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#investigative journalists take note
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There’s a word for this kind of incest-like business behaviour…
… Monopoly? Recreation of the modern feudal fiefdom? Corporate welfare? We will find it.
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adreamfromnevermore · 27 days
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Headcanon that the Bats must be the most infuriating members of the justice league. And it's got nothing to do with what they do or don't know or even their general skills and egos. Everyone is very used to Batman and the expectation that him and any of his spawn are somehow going to be three steps ahead of any issue they bring to the table ever.
No no, the infuriating bit? The stalking.
Listen, this is a family of freaks and weirdos. They work so well together because none of them were normal to start with and then they ended up traumatized. It's practically common practice in that family to accept that nothing is what it seems at face value and that all of your siblings are attempting to pry into your private life and cases at any given moment. I think for them it's honestly weirder if you take what they say at face value. They speak a language holy separate from any normally socialized person and it is a language of lies and half-truths that relies on the assumption that all parties are aware of that.
They're the most infuriating bitches around.
They'll tell someone something and appear to do the opposite and when confronted will have the most convoluted but sound reasoning of why they actually did exactly as they promised too.
They regularly pick people's pockets and hack into personal information because for them? That's practically a love language. They're obnoxious and they aren't even aware of it. Someone asks them to just tell the truth and they react like they've been shot. They're probably offended when they realize that someone hasn't been at least attempting to dig into them back, like come on man. I thought we were friends but you didn't even Google how long Nightwings been around? We've already put the bar on the floor for you guys? My siblings already have a full dossier ready on you because they caught us on camera in your home city during that 2 minute conversation we had 3 months ago. They sent it to me a few hours later. I think they got Oracle to help cause usually it takes them at least 12 hours.
You think they're being nice and friendly and then you realize that they have a nice little file compiled of everything you've done in the last five years, where you went to school and every note your teachers ever made about your behavior a decade ago when you were still a high schooler and fairly normal. If asked they'd probably be willing to bring out the family tree they built for you. They know what you did last summer better than you know what you did last summer. They have pictures, pictures that should be impossible because there's no way they were stalking you then and those sure don't look like security camera footage.
In reality Bats and Superman get along so well because that man is an investigative journalist and when they first met he could not leave it alone. Bruce was charmed the first time Clark Kent started doggedly attempting to ask him if he knew anything about Gothams new cryptid. It was cute how off base he was. But he was trying!!!! Bruce was sold for life! He dropped an dossier on lexcorp off in Clarks apartment a few days later. As a gift.
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itadorey · 7 months
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𝐥𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭 — geto suguru
pairing: cult leader!geto x fem!reader summary: your job as an investigative journalist leads you to infiltrate the time vessel association in search of a good article. but you get more than you bargained for when you catch the attention of geto suguru, the charismatic leader of of the organization that seems more like a cult. notes: cult leader!geto, fem reader, reader is an investigative journalist, reader is wearing a dress, inspired by a chem class i took + s4e3 of criminal minds, geto has a test of loyalty involving the drinking of allegedly poisoned wine but it's fake (nothing about it is real and he participates), he is manipulative but not about the sex. the sex is consensual! he is not the nicest man in this, vaginal fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, marking, teasing/mocking, he's kinda mean + rough, lmk if i forgot anything! wc: ~7.4k
𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 + 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈
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there are many words that are used to describe the leader of the time vessel association: intelligent, cunning, beguiling.
geto suguru was not someone to be taken lightly, especially after having managed to take over the association and quadruple it in size over the course of a couple of years. when you had taken on the assignment, you had known virtually nothing about them or the man in charge.
now, after nearly six months of investigative work, you knew of another word that could be used to describe the enigmatic geto suguru.
handsome.
joining the time vessel association was easy. their purpose was unclear to the rest of the country, and after giving a fake sob story and signing a few forms, you had been welcomed in with open arms. your life within the association was admittedly cozy, and you had uncovered nothing suspicious or interesting for your first few weeks within joining the organization. until you met geto suguru.
a charming smile was the first thing that filled your vision when you stumbled into someone, followed by a pair of warm eyes and handsome features framed by silky, black hair. you had immediately stiffened, back straightening as you let a soft smile appear on your face as you apologized.
"i'm sorry, i should watch where i'm going," you had said with a laugh, bowing your head slightly before stepping to the side.
"you should be more respectful," the light-haired woman beside the man had sang, looking you up and down before scoffing lightly.
"now, now, suda," the man had said. "there's no need to be so harsh with our new recruits."
upon noticing the confused look on your face, the man had laughed lightly, tilting his head towards you before speaking. "my name is geto suguru. it is an honor to make your acquaintance."
you had uttered your fake name after his own words, earning a knowing smile from geto before you hastily excused yourself. he had waved you off with a flick of his wrist, dark eyes watching as you walked away before he turned to ask suda for more information on you. the woman had hesitated slightly before looking through her tablet, rattling off your information as geto listened.
the two of them had stood silently in the hallway for a few minutes, a scowl appearing on suda's face when geto finally spoke.
"invite her to my office for tea. i would like to speak with her some more."
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the first time you had tea with geto, you had been a nervous wreck.
the sudden invitation had left you wondering if he knew who you truly were, and your hands had trembled slightly whenever you had moved to bring your teacup to your mouth. his sharp gaze had only added to your nerves, and you did your best to avoid his eyes in an attempt to keep your composure. you kept reminding yourself that you had chosen the career of an investigative journalist for a reason, and you had taken multiple precautions to ensure that your real identity remained hidden.
once you got used to geto's presence, you realized how useful your meetings with him were. he was interested in anything and everything you had to say, and a slight part of you felt guilty knowing that everything you told him was a lie. in return, he was more open with you than you expected him to be, and you did your best to ask questions about the association without drawing any unwanted attention to you.
in a matter of weeks, you had learned a lot about the time vessel association. you had learned about the internal fighting that had existed before geto assumed power, and how he had been quick to quell all conflicts and earn everyone's respect. you had also learned that there were only a select few members that geto seems to trust, but you hadn't figured out why just yet. the biggest piece of information you had learned however, was that geto was unnaturally charming.
a simple compliment from him always had your face heating up, and you took great pleasure in the way his eyes seemed to follow your legs whenever you crossed one over the other. you enjoyed the way he took your tea recommendations seriously, and the way his gaze seemed to linger on your lips as you regaled him with another story about your life before joining the association.
but no matter how attractive geto suguru was, you had to constantly remind yourself that it was in his nature to be so charismatic. after all, he was the leader of what was quickly becoming the largest cult in japan.
you made sure to take meticulous notes about your interactions with geto every time they happened, whether it be the private moments in his office, or the casual conversations in public. the green folder was filled with months of information, and you took extra care to hide it under a loose floorboard under your bed to ensure that no one could find it.
a part of you was suspicious about how friendly geto was towards you, and you found yourself wondering if a man such as him could actually be so easily swayed by personal feelings. that is, if that's what he felt towards you at all.
you tried to convince yourself that he truly did like you; that you had managed to catch his attention the very first day you met him due to your clumsiness. but you couldn't shake the feeling that he was onto you, and so you quickly made arrangements with your editor to finally finish your infiltration, the both of you agreeing that six months worth of information was more than enough to write an exposé on the time vessel association.
but your luck could only stretch so far, leading to this very moment where you find yourself face to face with suda manami, a pleasant smile on her face as she stood outside your door.
"can i help you with something?" you ask, your eyebrows furrowing as you study her vacant expression. "does geto need something from me?"
"i can assure you that geto does not need anything from you," suda hisses, her eyes crinkling as her smile widens. "but he is calling an immediate meeting of all the present members of the association. i suggest you make your way to the conference room immediately."
you give her a hesitant nod, slipping out of your room before following behind her. she's silent the entire way, only pausing a few doors away from the conference room and motioning for you to keep going with a wave of her hand.
the air inside the conference hall is stifling, the majority of the seats being filled as people wait for something unknown.
you slide into an empty seat near the front, making sure to sit on the end of the row as you look around. your hands flutter about, smoothing your dress down over your thighs as you look for geto, trying to ignore the tense atmosphere that's engulfed the room.
hushed conversations take place all around you, and you strain your ears as you attempt to eavesdrop and figure out if anyone knows why a gathering had suddenly been called. there is no sign of the long, black hair you're currently trying to find, and you slump in your seat when you realize that he hasn't even arrived yet.
silence falls over the hall the moment a figure walks onstage, black robes fluttering about his legs as he makes his way towards the center. you breathe in sharply when your eyes land on him, and you watch as he takes a cursory glance around the hall. his gaze stops briefly on you, and your heart stutters when his lips turn up the slightest bit upon seeing you.
"thank you for convening on such short notice," geto says, his voice low and smooth as he gives his audience a pleasant, close-eyed smile. "it is my pleasure to announce that we have reached our most recent recruitment goal."
geto pauses as cheers fill the room, and he nods good-naturedly as he waits for the noise to die down. he signals to the people standing on the sidelines, and you flinch lightly when one approaches you, gently pressing a black, plastic wine glass into your hand before moving down the row.
"as a result," geto continues, the smile still present on his face. "we shall celebrate tonight. we will start with our finest wine, and continue with a traditional feast afterwards."
you shift uncomfortably in your seat, looking down at the deep red wine currently being held in your hand. your eyebrows knit together, trying to recall if geto had mentioned anything about recruitment goals in your previous interactions. your shoulders tense when you take a glance around the room, seeing all other organization members take a swig from their cups without hesitation.
a cold chill runs down your spine when you turn your gaze back to the front, immediately meeting geto's dark stare. his eyes are focused solely on you, and he refuses to look away as he waits for you to make a move. you can feel your hand trembling as you clutch your cup, and you force what you hope is a coy grin onto your face as you lift your glass towards geto.
he grins back at you, his expression sharp and dangerous as he nods his head in encouragement. you press your lips to the rim of the cup, forcing yourself to remain calm and keep your lips clamped shut as you feel the liquid slosh against your mouth.
a satisfied nod is all you receive from geto before he looks away, and you waste no time before placing your cup on the ground, making sure that you tuck it behind one of the wooden legs of your chair. your hands are still shaking when geto speaks once more, a shining metal goblet now in his hand.
"it brings my heart such joy to see us all come together in celebration," geto proclaims, pausing to raise his glass. the lively atmosphere in the hall dissipates when his smile falls, and you can't fight the uneasiness creeping up your spine. "but i am afraid i also have some unfortunate news. it has come to my attention that we have a traitor amongst our ranks, someone who is not committed to the cause we stand for."
murmurs instantly fill the hall, and you can feel the ice creeping through your veins as you straighten up in your seat. you catch sight of suda glancing your way, and you do your best to keep your expression neutral, your stomach twisting with anxiety as wait with bated breath for geto's next words. confused expressions surround you, and you do your best to imitate them in an attempt to calm yourself down.
"this is why, the wine you've drank tonight has been poisoned."
you feel your heart leap into your throat at geto's words, and you silently watch as geto raises his cup to his lips before taking a deep drink. his lips are stained red when he hands his cup to suda, and you find yourself unable to look away even as panicked murmurs start arising all around you.
"i have the antidote, of course," geto says, a smile on his face as he scans the crowd. "it's ready to be handed out, once the traitor steps forward. you have five minutes until we all die."
there's a whole minute of silence as everyone tries to process geto's words, and you find yourself looking down as you stare towards your full cup of wine. your whole body trembles as you shut your eyes, and you find yourself wondering if geto had been telling the truth.
you start tapping your foot on the ground as people around you start debating in hushed whispers, trying to determine who could possibly be the traitor.
"one minute left!" geto announces, a calm look on his face as he eyes the clock on the wall. a part of you wants to jump out of your seat and admit to all your lies, but your fear of retaliation keeps you frozen in your seat. you know it's the right thing to do— you can't possibly let all these people die— but your resolve is broken down when you notice a man step forward.
"we have come to an agreement!"
geto's eyebrow raises as he eyes the man— shinji, you recall, one of the association's most loyal followers— and he tilts his head as he descends the stage, coming to a stop in front of him. he's a mere ten feet from you, and you can't look away from him as he hums questioningly.
"and what would that agreement be?"
"there is no one among us who would even think of betraying you," shinji proclaims, being met with sounds of agreement from the entirety of the room. you watch in horror as people nod enthusiastically, wiping away fearful tears from their eyes as they settle back into their seats. "we are wholly devoted to you and your mission, and if that means that we die for you, then so be it."
"you would all die for me?" geto asks, a leer on his face as the man nods. loud laughter tumbles out from his lips, and it only grows louder as he steps backwards, hoisting himself up to sit on the stage. "how precious."
geto's loud laughter rings throughout the room, and you watch as people look at him reverently. he rises to his feet, snatching his cup back from suda and downing the contents before tossing it to the side. the dull clang of the metal rings in your ears, and he sighs deeply as he gives the crowd a small bow.
"there will be no antidote handed out," he states, holding his hand up when mutters break out in the crowd. you can't draw your gaze away from him, your eyes tracing the drop of wine that trails down his lip before his tongue darts out to catch it. "there was never any poison. that was merely a test of loyalty and all of you, my dear congregants, have passed. it really does warm my heart to know that you all have such faith in me, and i hope that i live up to all of your expectations. there will be a celebration tonight, so please, enjoy the rest of the wine and i hope to see all of you in the dining hall later. now if you'll excuse me, i have some preparations to finish. i wish you all a wonderful day."
the words have barely left geto's lips before you're darting out of your seat, doing your best to avoid his line of sight as he's held up by some of the congregants. you feel yourself grow sick as you see the smiles on their faces, and you can't help the way your stomach lurches when they prostrate themselves at his feet.
you burst through the doors and into the hallway, trying to sort through all the emotions you're feeling. your thoughts feel jumbled, and you can only focus on getting to your room as you lurch to the side of the corridor to avoid crashing into people. you feel a relieved sigh slip past your lips as your room comes into view, only for it to turn into a gasp when you feel someone grab your hand.
your knees wobble as you turn your head, catching a glimpse of geto's usual hairstyle as he stands behind you. his hand is still wrapped around yours, and you wonder if he can feel the way your fingers tremble against his as he pulls you to him.
"i apologize for startling you," geto says, his voice rich and deep ad you nod your head in greeting. "i was wondering if you would join me for some tea before the feast."
"o-of course!" you say, mustering up the courage to meet his gaze. there's a glint in his eye as he grins, and he proceeds to weave your arm through his, your hand resting on the crook of his elbow as he leads you even further down the hall. you do your best to ignore the awed looks the two of you receive from the association members as you pass them, looking down at your shoes to try and distract yourself.
a soft 'thank you' leaves your lips when geto holds his office door open for you, and you wipe your palms against the skirt of your dress as you take your usual seat in front of his desk. he walks over to the window, a large assortment of porcelain and teas sitting on the shelves underneath it.
"any requests?" he asks, earning a quiet shake of your head. he sighs softly, crouching down to pluck a container of tea leaves off the top shelf before straightening up. he shoots a glance your way, watching as you shift in your seat. "may i ask a favor of you?"
"how can i be of assistance?" you say softly, looking at geto curiously. he chuckles at your expression, waving his hand towards his desk before turning to grab a teapot.
"can you grab the folder underneath the pile of papers? remember our last conversation? i have something that i think might interest you."
you respond with a hum, standing from your seat to reach the pile of papers he had mentioned. the edge of the wooden desk digs into your flesh as you stretch, your fingers brushing against the paper before you take the pile into your hand.
"i hope i didn't scare you with my little stunt earlier," geto continues, the soft clink of porcelain filling the room as he moves things around. you remain silent at his words, unable to find the proper words to respond with. you freeze when you finally find the folder on the desk, your finger closing around the familiar green plastic as you pull it towards you. you barely register geto's voice, too focused on the item that you were sure you had hidden in your room. "although i don't think it would be bold of me to say that you weren't scared at all, considering the fact that you didn't drink your wine in the first place."
your breath catches in your throat as you clutch the folder to your chest, and you feel geto come up behind you before reaching around you to set two empty cups down on the desk.
"what do you mean?" you ask, feigning innocence. "you watched me drink."
geto hums at your words, reaching over to pluck the folder from your hands. you whirl around in surprise, swallowing harshly when you realize that he was a lot closer than you originally thought.
"i did," geto agrees, opening the folder and skimming through the pages inside. "so imagine my surprise when i found a full cup of wine hidden underneath the seat you had been sitting at."
geto meets your eyes when you remain silent, giving you a teasing grin. he pulls out a sheet of paper, and your eyes widen when you recognize it at the one that was full of hastily scribbled first impressions.
"i know who you are."
his simple statement is enough to make your heart race, and you flinch when he laughs softly at your expression. he hums as he skims over the paper, eyes full of delight as they trace over the black ink.
"i must say, i admire your dedication to your job," geto continues, his eyes still on the paper. "when you first arrived, i didn't think you'd last one month, much less six."
"you've known," you finally whisper, drawing geto's attention back to you. he watches as your eyebrows furrow together in confusion, your lips parting as you stare at him in disbelief. "you've known about me this entire time."
"i have," is all geto says, returning the paper in his hand to the folder. he looks through the pages once more, plucking another one out of the stack before reading through it as well.
"why'd you let it carry on for so long?" you ask quietly. he doesn't respond for a while, closing the folder and tossing it onto your empty chair before looking up and studying your face.
"i suppose you could say i grew fond of you," he finally responds, a crooked smile on his face. you look away from him, flustered by his words.
"so you kept me around for your entertainment?" you scoff, earning a hum from geto. you cross your arms defensively, swallowing before asking the most important question on your mind. "so now what? what do you plan on doing now that you've blown my cover?"
"you're free to go and write your little exposé. i don't care about that at all," geto says casually, taking a step towards you. his robes brush against your knees, and you shrink back against his desk when one of his hands come up to cup your cheek, turning your face back towards him. your lips part slightly as his other hand grabs your waist, guiding you to take a seat on his desk. strands of dark hair fall over geto's shoulder as he leans down slightly, and you find yourself eye level with him as his fingers start tracing feathery patterns on your hip. "but as i said, i've grown fond of you,"
"oh?" you breathe, trying to concentrate on his words. his hand slides down lower, thumb stroking the junction of your thigh and causing your breath to hitch.
"i think it's safe to assume you've grown fond of me as well," geto says lightly, earning an indignant look from you. he leans in, nose skimming the side of your neck as you instinctively turn away. his other hand leaves your face to grasp as your other thigh, dragging you closer to the edge of the desk as he situates himself between your legs.
"you're wrong," you retort, huffing lightly as you squeeze your eyes shut. your head feels hazy, thoughts jumbled as geto leans over you, his large frame almost completely engulfing you as he chuckles against your skin.
"am i?" he hums, lips brushing your neck lightly as he speaks.
"ye— ahhh!"
you moan softly when geto nips at your neck, and he laughs mockingly as you arch into him. you fist your dress in your hands as he trails kisses up your neck, his breath hot against you as he leaves faint, red marks upon your skin.
"i don't think i am," he whispers into your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine. he presses a fluttery kiss to your cheek, his nose bumping into yours as he pauses. you open your eyes to see him watching you, dark eyes half-lidded as he takes in your flustered appearance.
you let your gaze drop to his lips, and you hesitate for a moment as silence engulfs the room. you feel vulnerable, almost exposed, as you sit in front of one of the most dangerous men in japan. there's a chill that's settled into your veins over the past few minutes, and you can't find it in you to fully believe that it's a result of fear.
geto suguru is a name that's been praised and cursed, and you've seen firsthand how ruthless and terrifying the man can be. yet you find yourself leaning in, your heart racing— from excitement or fear, you still don't know— as you unfurl your hands, letting them get lost in geto's robes as you blindly pull him in.
your lips meet in a clash of teeth and tongue, and geto wastes no time before angling your head up, deepening the kiss as he slips his tongue past your lips. you moan into his mouth, leaning up further as your arms wrap around his neck, your chest pressed firmly against his. thoughts are still swirling around your head as geto sucks on your tongue lightly, only making your head spin even more as you try to figure out exactly what it is the two of you are doing.
he's dangerous, you repeat to yourself, thinking about all the information you've managed to gather on the association. you think back to the wine incident, the terrified faces of the congregants flashing through your head as you pull away. geto chases after you, biting your lip, and all thoughts vanish. there's no moment of reprieve before you're kissing him deeply once again, remembering that it was you who pulled him into the kiss in the first place.
you part from him with a gasp, your face heating up when you see the thin string of saliva connecting you to him. geto breathes heavily, watching as you unwrap your arms from his neck to wipe your lips before he grabs your jaw with one of his hands. his lips are red and swollen, and you can't help the way your chest puffs with pride at the sight.
"would you die for me?" geto utters mockingly, enjoying the way a scowl spreads across your lips at the question. you try to pull away from him, stopping when his fingers tighten around your face ever so slightly.
"no," you snap, mild defiance in your lust-blown pupils as you stare him down. he thinks you look beautiful like this, titillated yet strong-willed. he wonders if he can change that.
geto huffs out a laugh at your response before leaning down, giving you a bruising kiss before releasing your jaw. you're still staring at him, shaky breaths leaving your lips as he looks up at the ceiling thoughtfully.
"have you heard of 'la petite mort'?" he asks quietly. he looks back down at you when he's met with silence, and he watches as your eyebrows furrow in confusion.
"it means the little death, right?" you respond, caught off guard by the sudden question. geto nods at your words, a low hum leaving him as he fixes you with a hungry look.
"that's the direct translation," he confirms, fingers dancing across your thigh. "however, the french used that phrase to refer to a certain... occurrence."
you hum questioningly, your attention caught by the movement of his fingers as you attempt to listen to him. geto smiles when he notices your struggle, and he lets his hand slip under your dress, his skin feeling hot as it lands upon your bare thigh.
"a more accurate definition would be 'the sensation of post orgasm as likened to death'," he continues, enjoying the way your breath hitches in his throat at your words. he lets himself lean down, lips barely brushing yours as he watches your reaction. he thinks the way your eyes flutter shut is cute, and he feels his dick twitch at the sight of you so ready and eager. "you said you wouldn't die for me, but tell me, would you be willing to die a thousand little deaths with me?"
a shiver runs down your spine when you feel his fingers trail along the your inner thigh, and you hesitate slightly before opening your eyes. you see the smile on geto's face, and you hate the fact that you can't really bring yourself to turn him away.
"i promise it would be worth it," geto mumurs, voice low with desire.
you clench your hands as you he waits for your answer, your stomach twisting as he lets out a low laugh as your inner conflict. a shaky exhale leaves your lips as you place your hands against his chest, smoothing the fabric you had previously wrinkled. there's a nagging voice in the back of your head, telling you that it's wrong to be here, in this situation, with a man like geto suguru.
but your resolve weakens when you take in the sight of him, hair disheveled as he stands in between your thighs and stares at you as though you're the only thing in the world that could bring him to his knees. you tell yourself that you'll hate yourself for getting involved with such a twisted man, but you ignore your thoughts as his fingers brush against your panties, telling yourself that you'll deal with your regret later.
"this doesn't mean anything," you whisper, looking to the side. you gasp when you feel geto's lips back on your neck, teeth lightly scraping against your skin as he wraps his hands around your thighs, spreading your legs apart as your dress rides up.
"of course it doesn't," he says teasingly, fingers tracing your slit through your underwear. you squirm in place, your hands now firmly on geto's shoulders as he rubs your clit through the thin fabric. "whatever makes you feel better."
you're so focused on geto's fingers that you barely register his lips trailing down your neck. he leaves wet, sloppy kisses in his wake, only pausing briefly to tug at the neckline of your dress. a faint moan leaves your lips when the cool air hits your breasts, and it only grows in volume when he wastes no time in leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth, tongue circling the sensitive nub as you arch into him.
"you, ah, you're kind of eager, aren't you?" you ask quietly, gasping when he bites teasingly at the soft skin of your breast. "oh fuck!"
your hands tighten on geto's shoulders as he pushes your underwear to the side, fingers circling your clit and causing you to squeal at the sudden sensation. you feel like your nerves are on fire, pleasure ten times stronger now that there's nothing in between your cunt and his fingers.
"i'd say you're the eager one," geto huffs raising his head to look at you.
he scowls when you remain quiet, your forehead coming down to rest in the crook of his neck as he keeps a steady rhythm. your breathing gets heavier as he hooks one of your legs around his waist for better access but you remain quiet, causing a wave of frustration to wash over geto.
"say my name," he commands, feeling you shake your head against him. he presses harder against your clit, a strangled whine falling from your lips at the action. "say it!"
"n-no!" you whimper, gasping when geto slips a finger inside your cunt. geto smirks as he retracts his hand, watching the way you try to buck your hips in an attempt to keep his touch on you.
"no?" geto asks, faux concern in his voice.
"please," you whisper, pressing your lips to his neck. geto's other hand presses down on your thigh, keeping you in place as you try to inch your hips closer to him. your dress rides up even more with the action, and geto smiles when he notices the fabric rise, baring your glistening cunt.
he groans when you suck on the sensitive spot underneath his jaw, hand unintentionally tightening around your leg and causing you to gasp.
"please," you repeat, your voice needy as tug his face down to yours. your eyes are wide and pleading, a hint of glossiness visible as you pout.
"please what?" geto asks, enjoying the way you hesitate briefly. your lips part as you go to respond, only for you to pause when you see the proud glint in his eyes. you tense slightly, swallowing your own pride before pulling him into a deep kiss.
"please, i need—" you begin, pulling away from him and looking down. you squeeze your eyes shut tightly before speaking, embarrassment prickling at your spine as you give in to him. "i need you, su—"
geto smiles when you pause, letting go of your thigh to tilt your head up to look at him. "say it with me. su-gu-ru. it's not that hard."
your face flashes with anger at his mocking tone, feeling slightly irritated at his words. geto's eyes light up with delight at your expression, and you can't help but feel a twist in your stomach as you realize just how in control of the situation he is. you take a deep breath before squaring your shoulders, feeling entirely too exposed as geto watches you intently.
"please suguru," you say breathlessly, reaching for his other hand and guiding it back in between your legs. "i need you to make me feel good."
"well when you ask so sweetly, who am i to refuse?" he replies, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest as you scowl. your contempt is short-lived as he complies, and you moan when he begins to finger you slowly.
he pulls his face out of your hands to watch as your cunt sucks his finger in, eyes darkened with lust as you squirm in response. your hands fall back to his shoulders, fingers digging into his robes as your legs spread even wider for him.
"m-more, please, suguru!" you cry out, drawing his gaze back to your face. your eyes are squeezed shut, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted as moans pour out of you. he complies without complaint, another finger joining the first as he speeds up his pace. his office is filled with lewd, squelching sounds, mixing in with your pretty moans and whimpers as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you.
"like that?" he asks innocently, laughing lowly when you nod desperately. you try to buck your hips in tandem with his thrusts, and he can't help but coo at the adorably pathetic sight. he angles his fingers to hit that soft, spongey spot inside of you, earning a sharp whine as your legs instinctively try to close.
"su-suguru!" you moan, hearing a pleased hum in return. his hand is clamped in between your thighs, the skirt of your dress covering the scene in between.
"c'mon," he coaxes gently, his free hand rubbing soothing circles on your thigh as he tries to pry them apart. you comply slowly, knees trembling as he starts to move his fingers slowly. once he has your legs parted, he lifts your dress up gingerly, breathing in sharply when he sees your arousal coating your thighs. "so sensitive. or maybe you really are just that fond of me."
his words go unheard as you push his hands away, and geto frowns lightly before you start tugging at his robes, trying to shove the fabric off his shoulders as you pull him closer.
"what are you doing?" geto asks amusedly, smirking when you look up at him with a determined look. he keeps eyes contact with you as he licks his fingers clean, humming contentedly when you break his stare with a flustered look. you manage to untie his robes, only stopping when geto's hand closes around both of yours. "answer me."
"i need you," you state confidently, an embarrassed expression on your face as he releases you. he's pleasantly surprised by your determination, and he takes a moment to think before deciding to tease you.
"oh?" geto asks, a teasing lilt present in his words. "were my fingers not enough? was i not making you feel good?"
you pause at his words, giving him a mildly annoyed look before focusing on the the ties keeping his pants up.
"of course they were, suguru," you purr, saying his name wantonly. "i just need more."
"go on then," geto says, watching hungrily as your fingers deftly work at the knot. your eyes light up when you finally manage to untie it, wasting no time before haphazardly shoving geto's pants and underwear halfway down his thighs.
a sharp hiss escapes geto's lips when your hand wraps around his dick, and he watches in amusement as your lips part in surprise as you look at it. your tongue darts out to lick your lips as you give him an experimental stroke, and you look up at him through your lashes as he bucks into your hand.
"so pretty," you murmur, letting your thumb swipe over the head of his dick in order to spread the pre-cum that had gathered at the tip. you don't notice the way geto's breathing gets heavier, or the way he leans down to press his palms to the edge of his desk in an attempt to control himself. he watches with rapt attention when you let him go, bringing your hand up to your mouth to lap at the pre-cum that covered your fingers. "s-so big."
your eyes widen when he takes him self in his hand, using the other to lift one of your knees so that your foot is on the desk.
"w-wait!" you cry out, hands scrambling to find purchase on the wood under you. geto pauses, his head tilting to the side as he waits for you to continue. you look conflicted, your eyes still focused on his dick as he slides it up and down your folds, a weak moan leaving your lips when it brushes against your clit. "it's too big... it's not going to fit."
"it's too big!" geto mocks, your jaw dropping in surprise at his words. the hand on your knee slides down your thigh, and his thumb parts your folds, a sly smile appearing on his face when he sees your cunt clenching around nothing. "you were so bold a few minutes ago, and now you're saying it's too big? you asked for this, and now you're going to take it."
you whine as he rubs his dick up and down your slit a few more times before pushing in, your cunt squelching loudly as the tip pops in. your back arches as he keeps sliding in, his thumb reaching up to rub soothing circles around your clit in a futile attempt to help.
"suguru! 's too big!" you repeat, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. you pull him close, and he grabs your hips with both hands, pulling you to him as his cock bullies its way into your cunt. a loud gasp leaves your lips when he finally bottoms out, and he moans when he feels the way your cunt spasms around him, your legs trembling as they try to close only to be stopped by geto's frame. "i- i'm cumming!"
geto laughs at the sight in front of him, and he wastes no times before thrusting into you, setting a ruthless pace as you squeal loudly.
"suguru! it's too much! 'm too full," you moan, clinging onto him tightly as he keeps fucking you. his eyes focus on your tits, enjoying the way they bounce each time he thrusts up into you. he leans down to gently capture one of your nipples between his teeth, earning another surprised squeal from you as he tugs on it lightly. he pulls away to see tears of pleasure welling up in your eyes, and he can't stop himself from leaning down to press a soft kiss to your cheek.
"it's too much?" he asks, his pace relentless as you bury your face into his chest. you nod against him and he can't help but laugh, only pressing down on your clit harshly and causing you to writhe against him. "maybe i should stop then."
"no! no, please, suguru," you cry out desperately, looking up at him with glossy eyes as he slows down. "it's not too much, i can take it, please."
"are you sure?" he hums, earning a desperate nod from you. he starts thrusting into you again, his thick dick dragging against your walls as he leans down to continue marking your chest. your hands tangle in his hair, finger tugging weakly at the smooth strands as he pulls you in closer, his own fingers tugging at your nipples as he moves up to pull at your earlobe with his teeth.
"would you die for me?" he breathes into your ear, hips slamming against yours as he thrusts into you. your hands pull harder at his hair, muffled whines escaping your lips as you try your best to hide your face into his chest. he lets out a frustrated huff at your lack of response, one hand coming up to grab roughly at your jaw before turning your head to face him. "would you?"
"n-no!" you cry out, wrenching your face out of his hold when he presses a sloppy kiss to your lips. geto chuckles at the action, and he spreads your legs apart further, hands hooked underneath your knees as he drives his dick deeper into you. the new angle has the tip of his dick pressing against your g-spot, and he smiles as he notices the tears finally spilling down your cheeks as one of your hands leaves his shoulder to snake its way down towards your clit. he intercepts it, lacing his fingers with yours and smiling when you let out a frustrated cry.
"look at you, so cute," geto murmurs, squeezing your hand lightly. his soft words make your head spin, a stark contract to the punishing pace he was currently rutting into you at. you whine and turn away when he kisses your tears away, only for you to turn back to face him when he lets go of your hand to prod at your clit. "are you gonna cum for me?"
"yes!" you cry out, back arching as he rubs harsh circles around your clit. geto watches in fascination as you squirm underneath him, and his hips stutter when he feels your cunt clamp down on his dick. "i'm gonna cum! please! please let me cum, suguru!"
geto grunts at your words, letting his head fall into the crook of your neck. "fuck, you feel so good. this sloppy pussy was just meant to be fucked by me, wasn't it?"
"mmhmm, yes!" you warble in affirmation, tossing your head back. "it was! all for you!"
one last thrust is all it takes for you to reach your orgasm, and you let out a half-sob, half-squeal as geto fucks you through your climax. every nerve feels like it's on fire, and you think you hear yourself let out a scream when geto sucks harshly on the side of your neck, leaving a dark, mottled mark.
"doing so good f'me," geto grunts, still thumbing at your clit as he tries to fuck you through your orgasm. it's a herculean task, he thinks, your cunt clamped down so tightly around him that moving feels almost impossible. "so good, so fucking go—"
he cuts himself off as he empties himself into you with a low moan, and you whimper as you feel hot ropes of his cum filling you up. your post-orgasmic haze is quiet, filled with nothing but the heavy breaths coming from both you and geto. you feel weightless, and you're only brought back to reality when you hear a hesitant knock against geto's door, followed by suda's quiet voice.
"geto?" you hear her call from outside. "sorry to um, interrupt. but the feast is starting soon. everyone is waiting for you in the dining hall. excuse me."
you feel slight mortification at the realization that suda had heard what was happening, but a part of you couldn't help but feel satisfaction at the fact that it had been you on geto's desk and not her.
a soft chuckle leaves geto's lips as he starts to pull out of you, and he kisses you quickly when you whine at the feeling, your cunt still sensitive from all the stimulation. he pulls back to watch his cum dribble out of you, and he quickly moves your underwear back in place before any of it can fall on to his desk. you breathe in shakily as you fix the neckline of your dress, glancing down to catch a glimpse of the marks geto had left spread against your skin as he fixes his pants.
"i should go. that exposé won't write itself," you say hesitantly, breaking the silence in the office. you push yourself off the desk, your knees wobbling and causing you to collapse against geto as you struggle to maintain your balance. his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he chuckles at the sight. you look up at him, eyes wide when he nudges your cheek with his nose, capturing your lips in a searing kiss before speaking.
"so soon? but you see, you promised me a thousand deaths, and i have only collected one."
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ty for reading !!
2K notes · View notes
lonely-cowboy · 3 months
Note
HEY HEY CAN I REQUEST ANYTHING FLUFFY W CONNOR X FEM READER
YOU WORK IS SO GOODDD
MY DARLINGS FORGIVE ME
requests started coming in hot right as i started my midterms so pls forgive me for taking so long to get through my requests (which i'm loving btw i'm so excited to get to all of them)
with that being said i'll stop yapping and let you read in peace
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framed
pairing: connor (rk800) x f!reader
summary: you're very confused when you find a photograph of yourself on connor's desk.
word count: 1k
warnings: none
author's note: i said i'm done yapping and i mean it i have nothing to say. (except i do wanna say this was inspired by the person that said my connor was very you are in love coded bc that made me happy and got me thinking)
masterlist ⟡ requests
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
“What do androids do in their free time, anyway?”
“Plot against humanity? I dunno.”
Hank’s laugh came out in a quiet huff, one that indicated he didn’t think your answer was too far from the truth. 
You had come into the precinct hoping to interview Hank and Connor on their latest investigation surrounding a human cult determined to wipe out every single android. As head journalist for the Detroit Free Press, you were desperate to get word before everyone else. And as Connor’s friend, you were sure you could sweet-talk it out of him. 
But when you got to the precinct, Connor was, strangely, nowhere to be found. Usually, he trailed behind Hank like a lost puppy, but not even Hank knew of Connor’s whereabouts. His unusual absence only led to conversations about what the hell an android could be doing on his lonesome. Neither of you had any clue.
“Have a seat, kid,” Hank offered, nudging his chin over to Connor’s desk. “You know he’d feel bad if you were standin’ around waiting for him.” 
Rounding the table, you took a seat in Connor’s chair. You sat stiffly with your hands atop your thighs, the exact same way Connor would. The realization made you chuckle softly to yourself. Even when he wasn’t here, his presence always made itself known in the subtlest of ways.
Your eyes wandered across Connor’s desk, noticing that it was relatively barren. Hank’s desk was littered with mementos– old donut boxes, Detroit Gears merchandise, anti-android propaganda that he’d crumpled up and intended to trash. But Connor’s desk was plain and organized. A single blue pen sat exactly parallel to his recent case file that had been neatly folded. On top of his case file was a quarter like the one he always fidgeted with. You wondered idly how many quarters he had lying around, having never seen him without one. But the only belonging of actual interest was a picture frame right beside his terminal.
Your brows furrowed as your gaze latched onto the photograph. You were staring directly at a picture of yourself.
Believing it to be a trick of the light, you reached for the picture frame and brought it closer. Sure enough, it was you.  
You stared at a version of yourself who was mid-laugh. You could almost hear your own laughter ringing in your ears. It was that genuine kind of laughter, you knew. The kind that was an obnoxious cackle you always wanted to hide. Why on earth would Connor have a picture like that framed?
Come to think of it, where did Connor even get this picture? You didn’t recognize it at all. You couldn’t even place where it was taken. There were zero clues in the photograph as you were the only focus. Nothing else, just you.
You were about to ask Hank about it when a voice over your shoulder startled you, “I really like that picture.”
An inhuman yelp escaped your lips as you spun around in Connor’s chair. You found him looking down at you with a pleasant smile, not even remotely embarrassed to be caught having a photo of you.
“Why… what even… what?” you stammered.
Connor cocked his head curiously, waiting for you to get your words out. But you couldn’t. You were so utterly confused that your brain couldn’t remember a single word in existence. You just stared at Connor with a gaping mouth, holding the picture up for his viewing pleasure. 
When you didn’t say anything, Connor’s eyebrows furrowed for only a moment before easing. An endearing habit of his that made your heart flutter. He definitely was not helping you find the right words. 
“I’d like to clear your confusion as best I can, but… I’m afraid I don’t understand its cause,” Connor said gently.
From behind, you heard Hank’s quiet snort. He wasn’t helping either.
“Well… Connor,” you started slowly like you were gradually putting the puzzle pieces together. No matter how hard you tried, the pieces weren’t fitting. “Why do you have a picture of me?”
The corners of his lips raised into a small grin, his hands moving to clasp in front of him. You knew this stance to mean he was about to tell a story.
“I asked Lieutenant Anderson about the keepsakes on his desk. I was curious as to why these particular items were objects of significance and what classified them as such,” Connor explained cheerfully. “As I recall, he said ‘I don’t know, they’re just alright, I guess.’ Perhaps my interpretation was incorrect, but I took that to mean those items made him happy.”
Connor’s smile widened slightly. That meant he was finished. He didn’t clear any of your confusion.
“Okay…?” you prompted.
“I wanted to do something similar. I thought it could help me accommodate to deviancy, so I decided to surround myself with things that make me happy.”
Your mouth clamped shut as your confused look turned to one of shock. You were almost sure you hadn’t heard him right, but another laugh (hidden behind a cough) from Hank made you confident that you had.
“I… make you happy?” you clarified.
“Yes,” Connor answered curtly. There was another long pause as you waited for Connor to continue. He seemed to get the hint by now, elaborating further. “I always enjoy your company. I look forward to seeing you when we have scheduled plans. This wasn’t a scheduled visit, so I was pleased to see you were here. It made me smile. Seeing you makes me smile.”
With all his talk of smiling, you couldn’t help cracking one of your own. Seeing your smile made Connor brighten.
“Like that,” he said. “If I could photograph and frame you right now, I would.”
You were so giddy with affection that you couldn’t help but laugh. You had never known Connor to be so poetic with his words.
“You know, Connor,” you said with careless laughter. “I came here to sweet-talk you into an interview for the Press. But here you are sweet-talking me.”
Connor looked pleased with himself, standing a little straighter. “I hope that made you smile.”
“It certainly did.”
806 notes · View notes
feasibilities · 29 days
Text
"Perhaps you should have some, clear your head."
Investigative Reports | Jonathan Crane x Journalist!Reader
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Warnings: Non-Con, Drugging, Kidnapping, Dumbification, Bondage, Corruption, Pet Names, Hallucinations, Cockwarming, etc. Author's Note: I finally got around to writing this! This insane post got a lot of hilarious/supportive reactions, so thank you. I hope it really is The Most Disgraceful Fanfiction Ever Made.
“Would you like to see our treatment facility?” Jonathan inquired, smiling faintly.
“Of course. Where is it located?” You said, looking around curiously. 
“The elevator will take us there.” Jonathan replied, guiding you inside. You wondered why he was so eager to show you this “facility”, but it would be good for your article on Arkham Asylum. You also noticed that his hand lingered on your lower back. You made a mental note of the floor being accessible by key only. The door opened to a poorly lit corridor with double doors at the toward the back. A sinking feeling in crept into your gut but you followed behind him anyway. He opened the doors to an underground sweatshop. You saw the faces of some of the criminals who mysteriously avoided being prosecuted. 
“This is where we make the medicine.” Jonathan said. You quickly realized this was a trap. Why would he be willing to show you this if he would let you leave? A feeling of panic clawed at your internal organs but you stayed perfectly still.
“Perhaps you should have some, clear your head...” He said in a restrained tone, swallowing harshly. His icy disposition transformed into that of a monster. You ran for the elevator and frantically pressed the buttons. The doors never closed. You scurried out and ran down the hallway. You ducked into one of the empty holding cells. You saw a white bed with restraints. You hid in the corner behind it and held your breath. Tears rolled down your face as you blamed yourself for taking on this story. 
“Ready or not, here I come.” A ragged, disorienting voice spoke. Your heart dropped as the voice was a complete contrast from the composed one you heard minutes ago. You covered your mouth to muffle any sobs. You heard his footsteps click down the corridor before they stopped in front of the cell you were in. You crouched to make yourself as small as possible. You saw a figure with a burlap mask over his head. 
“Hmm, I wonder where she could’ve run off to.” Jonathan said sarcastically, knowing exactly where you were. Walking to your hiding spot, he stood over you. 
“There you are, princess.” He cooed. He kneeled down and wiped your tears with his thumb. You cringed at his touch and tried to scoot away. He pulled you back and put a white cloth over your mouth and nose. Your struggling was useless. Blackness crept into your vision as you lost consciousness. 
——
You woke up to an unfamiliar bedroom and a throbbing headache. This room was quite different from the dilapidated cell you fell asleep in. You didn’t recognize the pink silk nightie you had on. You were tucked in perfectly as well. You had little to no memory of the night before. Jonathan came in and shut the door behind him. Checking his watch, he smiled to himself. 
“Just in time.” He said, sitting on the edge of the bed. 
“What happened? My head is killing me.” You inquired, sitting up slightly. 
“You had a fall and hit your head. I know how to make you feel better.” He said softly, pulling the comforter from your body. His smooth hands ran up your thighs. 
“I-I don’t think this will help.” You hesitated. 
“Of course it will.” Jonathan replied. You pushed his hands away and tried to cover yourself once more. 
“I guess I’ll have to tie you up, darling.” He relented, retrieving rope from the nightstand. He removed your nightie and folded it neatly. He tied you in the Shibari style of the Star Harness with your arms bound. He covered your mouth with duct tape. He pulled you to the edge of the bed and bent you over. You cried desperately in hopes that he would stop. 
“Shh. The more you struggle, the longer it lasts.” He hushed you, kissing the back of your head. He took in the sweet smell of your hair. You felt him slide into you slowly, whimpering at his size. His thrusts were slow but deep to the point of causing pain. Your knees buckled with each thrust. 
“Already falling apart, hmm? Isn’t that sweet...” Jonathan purred, speeding up. You looked back at him with teary eyes. Jonathan kissed you over the duct tape on your mouth. Sounds of skin hitting skin filled the room. You clenched around him frenetically, earning cruel spanks from him. His glacial blue eyes bore into yours. A searing pain managed to reach your cervix as his movements grew careless.  The rope he adorned you in began to scrape painfully against your skin. 
“Want me to stop?” He teased. You nodded frantically. He pulled the tape off your mouth painfully. 
“Please, sir.” You begged innocently, beginning to cry once more. 
“Of course, my love.” He whispered, pulling out. He groaned at the sight of your arousal dripping down your legs. He took out a polaroid camera and snapped some pictures of you from behind. You turned away until he violently flipped you over. He put his middle & index fingers in your mouth. 
“Smile, sweet pea.” He mocked, snapping one final picture. Setting the camera aside, he stared down at you with an esurient gaze. You shifted uncomfortably as you were still tied up. His fingertips grazed the tender burgeon of your nipple. Enjoying the sensation, you pushed your chest up into his hand. You mewled sweetly and batted your eyes. 
“Don’t do that…” Jonathan said, barely holding it together. 
“I can’t help it.” You whined, oblivious to his impending breakdown. He was fuming at the effect you had on him. 
“Right.” Jonathan said, standing up and opening a drawer nearby. He grabbed a burlap mask and held it up for you to see. 
“Remember this, hun?” He inquired, taking off his glasses.
“No, what is it?” You replied, furrowing your eyebrows. 
Sliding it over his head, you froze in fear. You realized he was the man of your never-ending nightmares. You suddenly saw hallucinations of maggots and spiders crawling from the eye & mouth holes of his mask. The world around you started to spin nauseatingly. You closed your eyes tightly hoping it would all end quickly.
“I knew you would remember me, angel.” He said, speaking in the same ragged voice. He walked to you and untied the rope around your body. He began spreading your legs once more. You scratched, punched, and bit him to no avail. In actuality, your resistance was much weaker than you thought. The sedative he gave you drained you of any kind of physical strength. 
“Help!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, hoping anyone could hear. Jonathan put a firm hand over your mouth and entered you once more. This time, his pace was sadistic and blistering. The headboard banged against the wall. You felt your bones shake with every motion. You screamed behind his hand until you had no voice to scream with. That familiar band of pleasure in your lower half finally broke. Your body convulsed wildly. He enjoyed seeing you unravel. 
“Almost done, stay still.” He sneered, continuing his assault. Your mind was nearly blank from everything that was happening. Jonathan moved his hand from your mouth to your throat as he was getting close. Your fucked-out expression made his heart flutter. Suddenly, hot spurts of seed shot into you. His groans echoed through the bedroom. You felt some relief that it was over. Instead, he laid next to you and slid back in hastily. He wrapped his arms around you to keep you still. Your shaky hand clawed at them. A doused white cloth smothered you once more as you lost consciousness.
“Sweet dreams.” He whispered, holding you close. 
216 notes · View notes
golbrocklovely · 6 months
Text
cultish love // colby brock
A/N: first off, so sorry for this being so late, i had a lot of things i had to edit about this fic. also this is my longest fic ever ! like the other fic before this, this is a AU version of colby… where he, you guessed it, is a cult leader. and he is also corrupt (but like aren't all cult leaders). again this deals with some possible heavy themes, so give a good read of the trigger warnings before reading ahead. i've always joked about colby being able to lead a cult, and that's basically where this idea came from. this fic also took a turn i wasn't expecting, but i like it anyway. also the first half is written as a journal entry (all italized) and then the rest is an actual fic (not italized). lmk what you think, and happy haunting !
prompt: you're a journalist, and your next big story is on the 'empathic love' cult, led by none other than colby brock. this cult is not known well, but you are getting a first hand look at them and what they do. and quickly, colby takes a liking to you. || fem!reader x AU!cult leader!colby brock
trigger warning: SMUT, no actual sex but you do get mentally fucked (it will make sense in the story), cult vibes all around, love bombing, cursing, supernatural powers, colby is very intense and kinda scary but also still his charming self, slight dubcon similar in vain to sam's story - you never say no outright, but you do have general feelings of 'wtf is this, idk if i like' so if that's too much for you, feel free to read something else :), colby's aura is crazy good at giving you visions, strangers-to-soulmates?? don't know if that's a tag lol, also…. colby's technically bisexual in this????? but like barely
word count: 8610
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I've been a reporter for only five years, and this story.... it could make or break my career. Cults aren't as prevalent as they once were way back when. They still exist, just in the shadows. A lot quieter on most fronts. Usually disguised as a business or religion, for tax reasons of course. But this cult, Empathic Love, is unlike any cult I've heard of.
Of course, they don't call themselves a cult, but that's what they are. How else would you describe a bunch of randos following one man around wherever he goes?
They only started so many years ago, right before I graduated university. The main founder, Colby Brock, is a pragmatic individual, according to his followers. The cult began blowing up in my town a little over two years ago, and now people flock from all over the world to visit the Love Compound. You would think it's Disney World the way people grow excited about it.
But I am here to get to the truth of this cult. What is their motive? What are they planning to do? Will this be another Waco or Heaven's Gate? What sinister beliefs hide underneath the modern-day hippie aesthetic they show?
These notes will document everything I experience for the next couple of days. And in case I go missing, these are my proof of who's to blame.
I don't think it will go that far, but you can never be too sure.
~~~~
Day 1 - Investigation
I'm still incredibly surprised I was allowed to come onto the Love Compound. The leader himself apparently reached out to my boss and told them that they wanted someone to come down and interview the group. They allow visitors from time to time, "new recruits" as some of the townspeople call them, but reporters have never been allowed in. Not once. Until me.
Driving up to the compound was nerve-wracking. I never imagined I would be nervous; I've interviewed plenty of criminals in my years, have done full blown investigations into scary, horrifying crimes. But something about this place freaked me out. Partially because I didn't know what I was getting into. But another part of me, and I will never admit this out loud, felt... at home.
The only promise I made to myself was I wouldn’t drink any kool-aid while there. So, I plan to stick to that. Pretend my previous statement never existed.
I was greeted by a beautiful woman when I got there: Avery. No one went by last names. And some apparently changed their names altogether, which was not surprising. My guess is there were most likely criminals hanging out amongst the group. But I had no proof of that, just a hunch. It easily could be a safe haven for those wanting to escape whatever life they had before.
The compound was three Victorian style mansions connected to each other and had a decent size farm attached - about 222 acres. Avery told me about all of the vegetables and chickens they farmed. Everything was organic and used up as often as possible. Anything that couldn't be eaten or produced too much for the only 100ish people in the compound, was sold at the farmer's market or given away to the local food bank. Avery explained to me very clearly that everyone in the compound chipped in one way or another. Some still worked normal jobs, but just lived here with everyone. But she noted that Colby hoped in the near future no one would have to work at all and they would be self-sufficient in a couple years.
A cult with future plans? Almost unheard of.
I told Avery that I was given an all-access pass to ask anything I wanted to, and nothing I asked could be ignored or deflected. She agreed to an interview. I recorded all of it, but here are the highlights of what I gathered.
I asked her why Colby was such a secretive man. There were very few photos of him that did exist out there, but all that was rumored about him was his alluring eyes and generally attractive presence. She agreed that he was handsome, describing his as having "ocean blue eyes" and his voice was to die for. "Deep and arousing", as she explained.
I noted that she seemed almost lost in thought at the idea of him, like she was envisioning him directly in front of her. Strange behavior; but not for a cult follower. Many end up falling in love with their leader, believing they have a genuine relationship with said person.
I bought up the name of the group, Empathic Love, and said it felt a little too inviting. She laughed and told me that it was right on the money - the best way to describe why everyone was there. She expressed to me that so many of Colby's followers wanted peace and love and light, and that being in this group felt like that. It was rewarding to be surrounded by those that cared and wanted to see each other succeed. Life outside the walls of the compound was rough, scary, draining; but inside, it was all love.
Call me cynical, but I don't believe that for a second. It took all the strength I had to keep from rolling my eyes at her. But I could tell from her voice, her motions... she was telling the truth. Well, her truth.
I wanted to know what brought her here, so she spoke of her previous life. She was abused growing up, moved around a lot in foster care. She was almost homeless, and then one day she ran into Colby. He had just begun the Empathic Love group, and she just knew she had to stick with him. Her life immediately turned around the moment he was in her life. The adoration in her eyes told me a different story, so I pressed her - "are you and Colby... together?" She smiled and said no, but she knew that they were life partners before, just not currently.
Oh... so it's one of those types of cults.
She said that Colby doesn't have a second in command, wife, girlfriend, whatever. Everyone is equal and heard. He's just the face of the group, which is a bit ironic given even I have no clue what he looks like. I knew he was young, in his mid-20s. But other than that, no idea.
I needed to know, why stay? What keeps you here? A dreamy look came over her, like she had said this a million times before: "Colby. He is love, and that's all anyone could ask for."
Chills ran up my spine at the tone of her voice. It was dull, and her words sounded like a mantra, the way she said them so easily.
I wrapped up my interview with her, quiring if I was allowed to interview others. She said yes and began sending over random people one-by-one to me.
If I hadn't gotten chills from her first, I would have from everyone else. Something about seeing everyone saying similar things, smiling happily, like the ship isn't sinking around them was eerie. It made my stomach churn when I would ask questions I already asked Avery, and get almost the same speech back.
I interviewed about 15 people. All variety of ages and genders. I suddenly realized that there were no children around, and everyone was over the age of 21.
Consenting adults… minus the supposed brainwashing.
A couple of the interviewees stuck out to me:
Penelope, 25. Her upbringing was similar to Avery's, but she still kept in contact with her family. Apparently, she wasn't the only one like that either. Many still kept in touch and even visited their loved ones. I asked her to describe Colby, tell me anything about him. She giggled, almost like a schoolgirl, and began to weave such a story about him. He was kind and caring. His smile was contagious, just like his laugh. And his singing voice was fantastic. She talked about him like he was a boy band member, and she was his biggest fan. I asked her to give one word to describe him, and she said "Love. He is love, and that's all anyone could ask for."
Greg, 36. He had fallen into rough times, and desired a fresh start. He had heard about this group online, and figured checking them out while he was in town wouldn't hurt. And that was a couple years ago. I wondered why he didn't feel weird listening to someone that was younger than him, and he shrugged. It was nice not having eyes on him. He loved being in a wallflower, and he believed that Colby deserved all the love he got from everyone in the group. Every ounce he got was ten-folded back into the group. Greg had never felt so connected to a group of people and he knew it was all thanks to Colby. "He brought love into my life like I never have had it before. Because that's who he is: love."
Heather, 29. She mentioned how for most of her life she felt like shit. Her confidence was at an all-time low when she met Colby. He encouraged her to keep at it, to love herself and find happiness everywhere. And by spending more and more time with him, she did. She has never felt more confident about herself, her life, her direction, and Colby is the reason for that. The tone that took over her voice when she bought him up was odd. It was very similar to a partner describing the love of their life, almost like wedding vows. I asked her haphazardly about her love life, how that was going for her. And she told me she had been on many dates - something she never used to do back when she was younger or before Colby. But she did note that regardless of who she ends up with, she knows that a part of her heart will always belong to Colby. They were connected, forever. "Love and light and happiness is what I desired, and I got it - all because Colby exists in my life now."
It felt like I was getting nowhere with some of these interviews. Many said the same thing, Colby being love and light and blah blah blah. I wanted someone that wasn't gonna just quote to me whatever mantra he made them learn. And luck was on my side, because I was able to interview their newest member, Ash. They were 23, and very beautiful. There was an almost smugness about them, like they knew they were the shiny new toy on the block. The confidence only a young 20-something year old could have.
I asked them, point blank, about Colby. Be brutally honest. They told me he was hot, and that's what drew them to him. They liked the idea of living in a group setting, especially since they grew up with many brothers and sisters. They liked helping out, and they liked knowing that Colby was keeping an eye on them the most recently. I then followed up with how long it took for them to join the group. "Three days. That's how long it takes for everyone."
I questioned them about the "Colby is love" thing, and they agreed it was a bit strange, but they couldn't help but feel the same way as everyone else. They were like a moth to a flame when it came to him. Everything about him was hypnotizing, entrancing. It was like staring at the sun; even though you knew to look away, you just couldn't help it.
Then I had to know: were they sleeping with him? Most of these cults feed off of the leader fucking every person they wanted to and leaving other members high and dry. But for some reason, it felt as if Colby was sleeping with everyone with the way they all talked about him. Ash dissented, saying no one was sleeping with him. He didn't sleep with any of his followers. But they all shared a deep, sensual mental connection with him. They felt like, sometimes, he was in their soul. And that sensation alone was euphoric, bordering on orgasmic. They also knew that in another life, they would have been together, similar to what Avery said.
It was then I knew that this group was clinically insane, or just really infatuated by what Colby was selling. It had to have been some crazy brainwashing. But it was odd; people were allowed to leave, to see loved ones, to have lives outside of the compound walls. Hell, some had dating lives that included those not here! That's unheard of, and completely stupid on Colby's part if he wants to keep things going.
A cult leader that wanted to watch his world implode.... I had to meet him. I had to meet the myth that was Colby Brock. And tomorrow I get my chance to.
~~~~
Day 2 - Interview with Colby
I feel the need to explain that these are my notes, not really meant for anyone else to see. And really, the only reason anyone would be seeing this is if I disappear or got murdered.
So, I say all of that just so I know, for myself, that this is a safe space for me to express my truest emotions and thoughts after interviewing Colby.
And all I can say, honestly, is that... I get it. I understand it now.
I felt my nerves hit their break last night before going to sleep, unable to stop my mind reeling from what was to come. I ended up bringing along a bodyguard, or really a photographer. I had known Trey since I started working as a journalist, and I knew I could rely on him to get us out of the Empathic Love compound if anything went south. I wasn't sure what I was up against when I went to interview Colby, but God... I didn't think I was so underprepared.
I met him in his office, Avery walked me over to it. It was up in the attic of the third house. It overlooked the entire property with wide windows. For an attic, I expected it to feel dark and dusty, but surprisingly it was light and airy. Almost like being out in the woods and taking a deep breath.
Colby was sitting in his main office chair. He spun around to see us, a light smile on his face. I'll be honest - I was taken aback by his beauty. I understood Ash's whole spiel about him being attractive and looking at him was like looking at the sun. It was intense. He was intense. His blue eyes bore into me, almost like they could see through me. I felt chills, but they weren't of fear. It was out of... excitement, of awe.
He greeted me, giving me a warm handshake. I hate to admit that I almost blushed at the sound of him saying my name. I had to take a couple deep breaths before starting. Avery left the room, and Trey sat outside the door, in case of backup.
I recorded our interview, knowing that I couldn't keep track of everything he said. But listening back to it now, his voice.... it's like a song. A beautiful, spellbinding song. I could almost fall asleep to it....
I asked him about his life, and how he came to be a leader for a group like Empathic Love. He spoke of his upbringing lightly, barely scraping the surface. He talked about growing up pretty normally, having a loving family, a great friend group, and then one day realizing that he could make a change in the world. That many people loved him and loved being around him. And that's when he knew that if he could make their lives better, he would. So, he started Empathic Love. Originally, it was just gonna be a safehouse for those that needed it. But then more and more people joined and suddenly, it grew into what it was today.
I asked where his family was now. "In Kansas," he told me. He said nothing further than that.
He humbly spoke of all the love he received from his followers, or his "friends" as he put it. They all cared about him in a way that he only wished he could return tenfold. I questioned him about the whole "Colby is love" thing. "How come everyone says almost the exact same thing, like they've been brainwashed into saying it?" He didn't even trip over his words as he spoke matter-of-factly to me. "I didn't come up with that phrase, they did. You would have to ask them. I take it as the highest form of a compliment, truly. I'll be honest, it's a bit embarrassing at times when they call me that, but I can't help what they do. I appreciate their love, nonetheless."
I continued asking him about different topics, until finally reaching the one I was most intrigued about. "How many of your followers - excuse me - friends, have you slept with?" He smirked, smirked, at me and said "None. Did any of them tell you that we slept together?"
"No, but the way they talk about you like the sun shines out of your ass does seem a bit odd, don't you think?"
He looked unphased. God, he had an answer for everything. "I'll be honest with you, some of my friends might be in love with me. But I make it abundantly clear that while I love them, and love their love, I don't have feelings for them. I'm still looking for the one."
I remember holding back a glare, "So, you're celibate?"
"Now, I never said that." He let out a chuckle, then his eyes darkened. "Why do you care so much about my sex life? Unless of course, you want to join it."
I tried ignoring his gaze and his words but stuttered through my next question. “Then who exactly is the right one for you, if it's not one of your followers or friends?”
It took him a while to answer, he even closed his eyes for a bit. He sat up once he knew, sauntering over to his window that overlooked it all. "I imagine the one for me is someone that will bring peace to me and my life. Someone that for all my faults, can see who I am truly deep down. She will love me, and I will worship her. I will show her what true love feels like. Our souls will be one, because they always have been."
Something strange came over me. I don't know why I said it, but I uttered, "What about looks?"
Who cares about looks! Why did I ask about looks? I was a serious journalist, not a reporter for Star Magazine!
He looked over his shoulder at me, "Looks aren't that important to me. What matters is mind and soul. Who you are deep down. But if I had to pick… someone like you. I feel someone like you would be a perfect fit around here."
I wanted to give him the sassiest voice and rebuttal I could muster, but deep down I was shaking. Energy raced through my body, like I had been electrified.
He kept his back to me, staring out the window. “I'm not trying to be overly complimentary. I'm just being honest. But I can tell that you would do so well to have us around. To have... me, in your life. I bring a lot of love to people's lives, that's for sure. But I also bring a lot of drive, and passion, and intimacy.”
Intimacy?
“People open up when I'm around. They tell me everything, even things they never dreamt of telling another person. And I allow it, because clearly, they needed to express it. And once they do, it's like the floodgates open. Love and light just start pouring into them, into their life, and it's overwhelming - but so worth it. Doesn't that sound nice?”
I guess so...
“I bring happiness to so many. My friends have told me that they get jittery around me, I'm like a shot of adrenaline. And that energy, that power, courses through them. And when it gets expressed, it comes out in…” He took a long pause, turning back to me. The look in his eyes… I can remember it as if he was still in front of me. “Pleasurable ways.”
I hate admitting this, and it's embarrassing to say it even now, but I felt a jolt of... something, run through me. I won't even say what it was out loud, in fear of never being taken seriously again. But what happened after that, I don't know if words can even express it well.
Colby continued talking, but I couldn't pick up on any of it. He was talking up a storm, but I couldn't help the sensations I was feeling. Even in my wildest of fantasies, I've never felt anything in reality. It was all in my mind. But in that very moment, it felt like it was happening to me.
I felt lips tread up my neck, stopping just below my ear. A hot, low moan breathed into my ear. My spine tingled at the sound, my hands gripping the armrests of the chair. If I didn't know any better, I would think Colby was behind me, making those noises. My hands suddenly felt hands on top of them. My eyes widened, looking down, but nothing was there. I couldn't really move my arms once the invisible hands were there. My whole body felt numb and heavy, relaxed. My mind was the one on edge, worried as to why I was feeling all of this.
I hadn't eaten or drank anything at the compound. Maybe it was being poured into the room by the vents? I don't know, but something was making me feel this way.
The invisible hands drifted up my arms, massaging my shoulders for a moment. My head lulled back, almost hitting the back of the chair. My mind was on high alert, but my body was about ready to fall asleep. The hands relaxed me so much that my eyes began to flutter.
But then... they drifted down my torso. They traced along my neck gently, drawing small, insignificant patterns. The hands grew lower and lower until they finally were on my chest. I felt the hands cup my breasts softly, my breath hitching in my throat. They kneaded my tits gingerly, my nipples hardening in my bra. I bit my lip, praying that I wouldn't make a sound. It was hard not to, especially when the delicate fingers of these invisible hands found my nipples, gently pinching them.
I remember closing my eyes tight. Trying to clear my mind. This wasn't actually happening to me. There was no way. This was a psychosis or a drug hallucination that was happening to me and Colby was doing nothing about it.
One hand drifted down my body, stopping right above my sex. I suddenly became very aware at how wet I was, my eyes widening. I felt a rush of blood flow through my cheeks. I was about to get caught. These invisible hands made me wet, and I couldn't stop them.
And the terrible thing was, I didn't want them to. I wanted them to finish the job. To get me off... in front of Colby. One hand rose back up my body, grabbing my neck and turning my face to look up at him.
A deep voice whispered harshly, "You want him, don't you?"
I didn't say anything, afraid of what would come out. But deep down, I knew.
"Say it, and it's yours. Say you want him. And he'll have you... forever."
I opened my mouth. I felt the words almost leave my lips. I stuttered out something. I closed my eyes, my body feeling high.
And then in a split second, it was all gone. The room grew quiet, and Colby cleared his throat. "Y/N, are you okay? You look flush."
I jolted out of my seat, being able to move freely again. I looked around and realized Colby was sitting once more, staring at me concerned. I finished the interview abruptly, saying I had everything I needed - even though I definitely didn't. And then he uttered words I wish I didn't hear.
"If you want, come back tomorrow. We are having a celebration here. I would love if you came by, even if for an hour."
I nodded, not even really taking in what he said, and left. Trey was confused as to why I bum-rushed out of the room, but I never told him the truth. How could I?
I knew deep down I shouldn't have said yes to go to the party. But getting that footage would be killer for my article. Interviews are great, but a party at a cult compound? That's bound to end terribly (for Colby, but great for me).
But something in me can't shake this feeling that I basically signed myself up for the end. End of what? I'm not sure. But I'll find out tomorrow.
~~~~~~
Stepping back onto the compound made my heart race. I was nervous as all hell, and just wanted this day to be over with already. Today was my last day doing this story. I was counting the minutes to when I could go back to my office and write about how this place was insane, or whatever narrative I planned to write.
I had enough proof that something was up here. All I needed to do was a bit more digging. And during the party is when I planned to do it.
Avery walked up to me, smiling brightly. "Hey, Y/N! How are you doing today?"
"I'm okay. I know it's a bit early, but Colby never specified when the party was going to take place." I replied.
"No, you're totally fine. The party is gonna happen later. Right now, though, we have something going on that you'll definitely want to see." She clapped excitedly.
"Oh? And what is that?" I questioned.
"We are inducting a new member!" she exclaimed giddily. "There's a whole process that we do, and everyone is involved. I imagine that will bode well for your article if you see it firsthand. It's all taking place in that tent."
I stared over at the huge tent, its plastic cover doors strangely inviting.
I hummed, "Sure, I'll be there in a moment."
Avery nodded, turning on her heels and prancing over to the tent, following in other members.
"What's happening in there?" Trey asked.
"Apparently they are inducting someone new into their cult." I informed him.
He blinked. "Group, you mean."
I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, whatever. Make sure to capture as much as you can."
He shook his camera, giving me a wink, "On it."
We both walked in, many members still up and around, giving everyone hugs and chatting. Avery waved me down, patting the seat next to her. I walked over and sat. My body tingled in anticipation. I wasn't sure what was going to happen. My breathing picked up as everyone grew silent, the doors opening. Colby walked in, and people rushed to their seats.
Colby called out, "Hello everyone, good morning."
"Good morning, Colby." Everyone said in unison.
Jesus, that was creepy.
"A lot of things are going to be different today. First, we have guests watching our festivities. Y/N and Trey. Everyone, give them a hand." He gestured to the two of us.
The tent exploded in applause, Avery evening rubbing my back sweetly. It felt like I was being congratulated on something I didn't achieve, my cheeks flushing at the acknowledgement.
"And secondly, sadly, the new member we were going to have decided not to stay." He frowned, his face dropping.
Members gasped, some audible "oh no" echoed around the tent. Colby nodded his head sympathetically. “I know, but fret not. I think this will be a learning experiment for our new guests. We can still do our traditional motions of having someone join us. But, imagine it as if it's a mock ceremony instead. Ms. Y/N, would you please step up here?”
My heart stopped when he looked into my eyes, the first time since yesterday. I glanced at Avery, who grinned enthusiastically. She pushed me out of my seat, my body following her lead. I gazed around, finding Trey, who pulled away from his camera with a concerned look. I stumbled up the walkway, stepping on stage with Colby.
Colby lowered his voice so I could only hear him, moving away from the microphone. "I know you wanted to know about how we induct someone into our little home, so I figured why not use you as an example? We aren't actually inducting you, in case you’re worried. This is just what would happen if you were joining. Are you okay with that?"
I gazed around the huge, white tent, making eye contact with many people in the audience. They all looked so eager, waiting to hear my response. Some were even shaking with excitement.
I stuttered, feeling Colby squeeze my hands to bring my attention back to him, "I-I guess so."
"Fantastic." He turned, still holding one of my hands, "Alright everyone, you know the drill."
The crowd cheered, suddenly many lining up to a microphone at the side of the stage. Colby lightly pulled me to a cushioned throne, sitting me down. "So here's what's going to happen. People are going to come up to that microphone, and they are going to give you plenty of love. Genuine love. And then the next person will go, and so on until everyone has spoken."
"Everyone here? Like, all hundred plus of you?" I whispered.
"Yes. It's gonna be a while, so get cozy." He laughed, rubbing my shoulders.
Time felt frozen as slowly everyone came up and said something nice about me. Some were quick, mostly just commenting on how nicely I dressed or how the stories I had covered in the past were interesting and thoughtful. But others, it's like they could see into my soul and point out the exact thing I was insecure about. Everyone was complimentary and it was nice, but exhausting.
The line had dwindled down, and the next person to speak was Avery.
She stepped up the microphone, giving me a huge smile. "Hi, Y/N. I know we don't know each other that well, but I feel like I've known you my whole life. These couple days of getting to know you, being interviewed by you, have just been the highlight of my life. You are such a lovely presence to be around, and you deserve all the success you've gotten these last couple years."
Lots of people in the crowd nodded, agreeing with Avery. She continued, taking a deep breath, "I wanted to add - you are so deserving of love. You are easy to love too, and I hope that you are surrounded by people that make you feel that way. I know that this is just a mock ceremony, but I truly believe you would be such a great addition to us. I know you don't trust us, but I hope that soon you will find that you have a safe place here. Even if you never come back here again. This is your home now, and forever will be."
My chest heaved suddenly, tears welling up in my eyes. What the fuck is happening right now? Why was I crying at what she said? Sure, it was sweet and kind, but... how did she know I needed to hear that?
I turned my head, wiping the tears before anyone could see them fall. The crowd clapped as Avery left, going back to her seat.
The last couple people were a blur, my mind still hanging onto Avery's words. Suddenly, a hand was placed on my shoulder, jolting me out of my thoughts. I gazed up, seeing Colby's beautiful face staring down at me.
"The ceremony is done. Now, time to party."
~~~~~~
It had been a couple hours since the ceremony, my body feeling almost numb but jittery all at the same time. It was hard to shake all the love and words that were thrown my way today. Sure, some were probably just lying and saying random things because they had to, because they were conditioned to. But it freaked me out how some just... hit the right spots, knew my insecurities.
The party itself was fine. Two of the houses had parties happening in them, and since all three houses were connected, you could leave one and walk into another. There was a dancefloor full of people, and multiple fully stocked bars. Tons of food was at each table. It honestly looked like an adult prom. But I wasn't in a partying mood. Trey, on the other hand, was enjoying himself immensely. Girls and guys surrounded him, laughing at his jokes and bringing him plates of food and wine. One girl kept rubbing his thigh, staring at him longingly.
I wanted to leave. I had had enough of today, and I just wanted to be as far away from Empathic Love as I could be. I decided fresh air was what I needed, so I got up and slid out the back door of one of the houses, taking a deep breath. There were still too many people around, but I noticed the last house, the one with Colby's office in it, had no lights on and no one around it. I walked through the yards, stopping once I was by the back porch of the third house.
I sighed, leaning back against a railing. I could still hear the party going on, almost getting louder now that I wasn't there. I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed.
“Hey, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here." Colby's voice broke through my thoughts.
I exhaled. “Hi, Colby.”
He cocked his head, “Are you doing okay? You seem... upset.”
I felt this sudden rush of anger, knowing in reality he was to blame for all of this. “No, I'm not doing alright. I want to go home, I'm extremely overwhelmed by this party and all the people around here. That ceremony was too much for me to deal with, and the only way for me to get out of here is Trey and he's getting rubbed down by your followers!”
He took a step back, putting his hands up defensively. “Woah, that was a lot. You must have needed that release.”
I glared, “You think?”
“Look, I get it. It's a lot to take in. I myself don't love going to all these parties. It can be really overwhelming and if I'm honest, it gives me a lot of anxiety,” he admitted casually.
“You get anxiety?” I scoffed, “How? Everyone here loves you.”
“I know. That's the stressful part!” He sat on the railing, turning to me. “I'm the leader of this family. I have to make all the right decisions, and sometimes that means upsetting some of the people closest to me. Not to mention, so many eyes are on me, and it's just all too much sometimes. Even if you think this group is a cult, I still care for everyone here. I make sure they are fed, have a job, and have a life outside of here. And that's a lot to take on.”
“How do you deal with all of it, then?” I questioned.
“Patience. And a lot of alone time when I can get it - through meditation, specifically,” he laughed. “I was actually going to go meditate before I found you. Would you like to join me?”
I shook my head. “No, I'm good.”
“Are you sure? Look, at the very least, it will get you away from the party and all the noise. You don't even have to join me, you can just... sit in the room with me while I do it.” He argued, shrugging his shoulders.
I gazed at the party, everyone had grew rowdier while we were talking, and I didn't even notice. But my head felt like it was spinning from the noise alone. I sighed, nodding my head. Colby smiled, opening the door to the house, and I walked in first. I followed him up to his office, sitting down on his couch as he sat in the center of the room on the floor.
I raised an eyebrow. “That's where you meditate?”
“Yeah, I know it's a bit silly. But I feel so much more grounded... on the ground.” He replied cheekily.
I snickered, sitting back and watching him. He crossed his legs, resting his palms on his knees. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He took multiple breaths until they were low and shallow. I furrowed my brow, my eyes never leaving his form.
It almost seemed like he was asleep, or in a hypnosis of some sort. He was completely still and silent. A dull glow appeared at the top of his head, growing brighter and larger. I leaned away from him, my eyes widening at the sight. What the fuck is that...?
An aura grew around him, surrounding him completely. He didn't move, unfazed by it. His eyes remained closed, and with each breath it grew.
"How... are you doing that?" I uttered, my mouth a gape.
"Doing what?" He spoke in a monotone voice.
"That... aura. How are you doing that?" I pressed.
“I've always been able to do it since I was young. You can get closer if you want to.” He suggested.
How did he know I was still far away?
I stepped off the couch, moving closer to him. I kept my distance, but the aura was almost pulling me in. It was beautiful, the light reflecting and growing bigger. I was almost engulfed by it, but it stopped right before getting to me. I could feel its warmth, its energy. It was calling to me, beckoning me to step towards it.
The aura wrapped around me, filling me with light and love. Or at least that's what it felt like. I gasped at the sensation, my legs shaking underneath me. I breathed in deeply, my lungs filling up with fresh air. I didn't feel like I was in the room anymore. I felt like I was flying, the world almost zooming around me.
“Let your body relax, Y/N. I know it's so much to take in.” Colby’s calming voice spoke.
I felt my body give out on me, falling onto the soft rug. I laid down on my back, staring up at the ceiling. Visions began to swirl in my mind and around me.
How is any of this happening?
He answered, reading my mind. “Because of me. Because of us. Because of the connection you and I share.”
My body felt very heavy, unable to move even if I wanted to. I could move my eyes, and out of the corner of them, I saw Colby stand up. The aura remained around us, almost engulfing the entire room.
“You know, I knew the moment you stepped foot on to the compound's grounds, you were going to like it here. You were going to stay.” He smiled sincerely, gazing down at my body.
I blinked, confused. “What? I-I don't plan to-“
He cut me off, “This is the final step, Y/N. Everyone gave you love, people celebrated you, and now... I'm allowing you in.”
I wanted to shake my head, but couldn’t. “But I don't want to join.”
He chuckled, “Yes you do. If you didn't want it, none of this would have worked on you. You wouldn't be seeing what is directly in front of your eyes.”
The visions morphed around me, suddenly showing Colby and I. But we weren't us, we were different people, at a different point in time. But I could feel it was us. We were in love, growing a family together. Our lives were beautiful.
What the fuck is this?
“That is our past, or present, or future,” he winked. “The thing is, Y/N, I never seek out anyone. They all seem to find me.”
“That's not true, you emailed my boss about being interviewed.” I remarked.
"Oh, you are so forgetful, Y/N. You emailed us, begging to interview me and anyone else that said yes. I only agreed because I knew you wanted to meet with me. You sounded very eager to join in your email." Colby pulled out a piece of paper, reading from it happily, "Dear whoever reads this, I'm hoping to score an interview with your group, Empathic Love, for an article I am writing. I would love to meet Colby, and really pick apart his brain on why he created said group. Maybe I could even join if you guys win me over. Please let me know if any of this sounds of interest to you. Sincerely, Y/N of Global Gazette."
He leaned down, staring into my eyes mischievously, "Now does that sound like someone that didn't want to be here?"
My heart raced, suddenly scared. “Why don't I remember writing that?”
“I couldn't tell you. All I know is you wanted to be here. And there's a reason for it.” He sat down on the ground next to me. I wanted to get up and run, but my body stayed still, heavy. “Growing up, I realized very early on that certain people just... gravitated to me. A lot of women, yes. But really it was anyone. And not only did they gravitate towards me, they became obsessed with me. At first, I was confused, uninterested in ever going through that. Who wants someone obsessed with them? But then I realized how much good I could do with so many people rallying behind me.”
He continued, “As I got older, my ability, or power, or whatever it is - grew twice as strong. Suddenly, all the people around me followed me, did anything and everything I could ask for. Then, I began getting visions, and I understood why this was the case. Everyone here: we had a past life together. Their souls and mine have always been connected. They find me and then continue to stay. And almost always, they fall in love with me. It's just so glorious.”
“You're insane.” I mumbled.
He hummed, “Interesting, especially since you’re seeing the same things I am.”
It was true. The whole time he spoke, I saw vision after vision of our past lives together. We were always destined to meet, destined to be with one another.
“But the thing is, I know you're different from all the rest. You and I, we are meant to be together forever. You are meant to love me forever, and I am meant to love you. That's why my abilities affect you so greatly.” Colby divulged.
“What if I say no? What if I want to leave?” I grunted, trying to shake free.
“You've had the ability to go all this time. You just don't want to. You know how much love I can give you. You know how much pleasure I can give you as well.” He bit his lip, his eyes snaking up and down my body, “You've known that since yesterday, haven't you?”
Blood rushed to my cheeks, memories of yesterday played in my head.
“And do you know what’s crazy about that? That's not even half the pleasure I can give you.” Colby kneeled next to me, a devilish smile on his lips. His hand lightly brushed my face, cupping my warm cheek sweetly.
A burst of arousal raced through me, my body spasming in ecstasy. “Oh my God!”
“I know, it's a lot to take in. But I just want to make you feel good, darling. You deserve it.” He leaned in slowly, “You are mine, after all.”
"This is what your followers meant by a deep and sensual mental connection," I groaned, feeling hands all over my body, touching me in the most lustful of ways. "You got inside their heads and mentally fucked them."
“...That's one way of wording it. But if they didn't trust me, if they didn't already want me, it wouldn't happen.” He winced playfully, “So in reality, it's your fault.”
“Fuck you.” I growled.
“But baby, that's what's happening,” Colby laughed darkly. “Those hands, those kisses and bites... that's all mine. I can tell you're losing it. You want me real bad, but you don't want to admit it. I get it, you’re overwhelmed.”
I felt like my body was getting electrocuted with pleasure. My hips grinded into the air, needing some form of relief. My nipples strained against my bra, wanting any form of touch. I closed my eyes tightly, embarrassment rolling through me as I felt my damp panties against my sex.
Fuck, he was right. I did want this, and him.
I didn't even need to say it out loud. Suddenly I felt a cock slid inside of me, too easily from how wet I had become. I ripped my eyes open, looking around. Colby was watching me from his chair, smirking.
He palmed his hardening dick through his jeans. “Imagine how much better it would be if I was actually inside of you, filling you up with every. fucking. inch.”
I thought about screaming Trey’s name. Maybe he could help me.
He grimaced, rolling his eyes. “He won’t do anything for you, sweetheart. He joined our group just a couple weeks ago. Right around the time you sent the email. So really, you have all the more reason to join us.”
“Even if I join this cult, I will never stay here. I will leave here and never come back.” I hissed.
“And that is your choice to make. But Y/N,” his gaze lowered at me, his eyes intense. “You will never be satisfied. You got barely a taste of what I can offer you, and you're gonna want it forever. Just like everyone else here.”
“You're a- fuuuuuucckk!” I moaned, the cock inside of me hitting my spot deeper. I caught my breath, glaring at him. “Y-You're a freak.”
“Says the girl almost coming to my invisible dick.” He spat, clenching his jaw.
I bit my lip, annoyed at how right he was. The hands exploring my body gripped my ass, slapping it lustfully.
“Okay, okay. I'll agree with you. I am a bit of a freak of nature. But let's not act like I'm some monster. I let people leave. But they always come back because they choose to. I can't force people that far. Pinky promise,” He stuck his pinky out, and I rolled my eyes defiantly. He huffed, “It's not like this place is Scientology, for Christ's sake. We are love. I am love.”
“You are the most tainted form of love that I've ever met.” I retorted, gripping the rug to hide my building arousal.
He deadpanned, “Ow. That hurt.”
Colby strutted over to me, laying down right beside me. The pleasure grew more intense, my hips bucking desperately. His one hand hovered over me, never touching me. It didn't matter, because having him this close felt like his whole body was on top of mine, fucking me hastily.
“If you allow yourself to enjoy this feeling, you might actually come. Because I won't force you to. I'll just keep you here, for hours, riving in pleasure until your brain melts into goo.” He smirked, “How's that sound?”
"I-I hate you." I gritted my teeth. Why did I feel like I was lying?
"No you don't. But soon you'll be able to admit the truth." He leaned his mouth in close, his voice low and sincere, "I know that this place might not be what you imagined your home to be like, but it is. You will always have a place here. You will always be loved here. And I know that's what you want deep down. To be loved unconditionally. To have every fiber of your being satisfied. And if you let me, I will do that. I will please you every night, however you want me to. But for me to do that, you have to let me in. You have to let love in."
The cock inside of me pounded faster and faster. I could barely think anymore. The only thing on my mind... was him. The lives we had together, the life we could be having. I knew I shouldn't want it, but I did. I wanted him in my life, forever. He was what was missing, and I couldn't live one more day without him.
I mewled loudly, my hips thrusting up erotically. Colby's hand cupped my face gently, turning my head to look him in the eyes.
His alluring eyes stared deep into mine, his jaw clenched. "You will always be mine. I am love, and that is all you could ask for."
"You are love, and that's all I could ask for." I repeated mindlessly, grabbing onto his arm desperately.
His face softened, “That's right baby. You're such a good girl for me. My good girl, forever. You want that, don't you?”
“Yessss, please Colby. I want to be yours forever.” I keened.
"You will be. I promise, you will always be mine." His eyes darkened, the pupils almost completely blown out. "You will never leave."
"I won't!" I trembled, my orgasm building closer and closer to the edge.
“You wanna come, Y/N? Get close for me. Don't I feel so good inside of you? You like when I do this?” Colby's hand snaked down my body, rubbing my clit sensually.
I begged wantonly, dying to come. "Pleaseeeeee! Please let me come! I need it! I need you."
"Of course you do, baby. You and I need each other. Our connection is unlike anyone else's. Tell me the truth and I'll let you come." He leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear, "Tell me, baby. Say it..."
"I love you," I cried out, right on the edge. I direly wanted him to say it back, knowing it was already the truth.
“I love you too, baby,” he smiled sweetly, kissing my cheek. “Now, come for me.”
Hot, white pleasure shot through my body. I had the strongest orgasm of my life, my mind shattering as I rode every wave of pleasure that went through me. Colby stayed by my side, shushing me as my high lowered down more and more. He kept whispering 'I love you' repeatedly, my mind unable to hear or think anything else after a while.
I blacked out at some point but awoke when my body was lifted off the floor and placed softly into a bed. “Wha... happenin?” I slurred.
“Relax, darling. I just brought you to my bed. Well, our bed now,” he chuckled. “I want you to get your rest because tomorrow is a big day for you.”
“What's tomorrow?” I murmured.
“Your introduction to everyone as my soulmate.” Colby informed happily, tucking me in. “Everyone will be so pleased that you changed your mind about joining us.”
I nodded my head, snuggling deep into his bed. He dimmed the lights, whispering softly, "Welcome home, Y/N."
392 notes · View notes
thelovelylolly · 6 months
Note
Hobie gotta beat a mf up cause they stared being a misogynistic asshole to his girl🙏🏽🙏🏽
Problem?
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Summary: You start your dream job as a journalist, only to have a sexist co-worker and your boyfriend won't let that slide. Warnings: a misogynistic man (icky icky), fem! reader (she/her pronouns used), not proof read bc im tired, let me know if i missed anything :) Notes: hobie would NOT let that behavior slide period
You loved your job. It was your dream since middle school to be a journalist at one of the top news companies. It was everything you wanted, and more. You had the freedom to investigate what you wanted, when you wanted. You had control over how your stories looked in the paper and online, and you weren't as censored as other places were. It was perfect, except one thing.
Your co-worker, James, wasn't the most...welcoming to you or your ideas. You preferred stories about everyday people doing good things in your community, or focusing on local and small businesses. He thought that your stories weren't as gripping or enticing as they needed, and told you to try harder.
At first, you thought it was just because you were a new employee. But when his targeted critiques didn't stop, you realized it was something else. He wouldn't say the same things to your male counterparts. He also didn't respect your assistant, a sweet girl who needed a job during college. He treated her like garbage, which pissed you off even more.
You had a meeting with all the journalists to get updated on what everyone was investigating and reporting on. When you stood up and explained what you were doing, a simple piece about a bakery owned by a sweet lady and her girlfriend, James rolled his eyes and leaned over to his buddy to whisper something.
"I'm sorry, James, but I'm talking right now. You whispering is distracting me and getting me off track, I'd appreciate if you'd stop," you said calmly, trying to call him out as well.
He sighed dramatically. "Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart. Didn't mean to hurt your precious feelings."
You wanted to slap him, but you took a deep breath and went back to what you were talking about.
----
You kicked your door shut behind you and dropped your things next to it. "Hobie, I'm home!"
You walked into your living room where Hobie was on the couch, tuning his guitar. He looked up and smiled, immediately setting his guitar aside and going over to you.
"Hey, love, how was work?" He asked, pressing a kiss to your cheek and giving you a hug.
You grumbled and hid your face in his neck.
"That bad, huh?"
You pulled away from him, pacing up and down the room. "It's my god damn co-worker! He doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut! All he does is criticize me and belittle me, along with the other women in the office, but not with the guys! That sexist piece of shit! It's just...I hate it and I can't do anything with causing a HR nightmare, and I don't wanna lose this job, Hobie. It means so much to me and I…I just can’t lose it.”
You stop and wipe the frustrated tears that had slipped down your cheeks. You look at Hobie and give him a wobbly smile. “‘M sorry, didn’t mean to explode on you like that.”
“Don’t apologize, babe. You’re frustrated, I get it,” he replied, walking over to you and running his hands up and down your arms soothingly. “How ‘bout we order your favorite take out, yeah?”
“And we can watch my favorite movie?”
“Anything you want, love.”
----
On his patrol as Spider-Man, Hobie kept his eye out for your…problematic co-worker. He didn’t know what the guy looked like, but he could figure it out. He swung by your office and took a look inside.
There was only two people left, a man and a woman. He was at his desk, sipping some drink and yelling at the poor woman who was just trying to organize some files. He eyed her like a piece of candy and yelled at her for putting the papers in the wrong place. Then, he stood up and grabbed his things before heading to the door.
Bingo.
Hobie swung down to the front doors of the building and waited for the man to walk out. A few minutes later, the man strolled out on the phone.
“Exactly, Tim. I don’t get why she got hired. She just does some stories with zero…what’s the word, content to them? I don’t know, it’s just a matter of time until she gets hit with reality. She even had the nerve to stand up to me-“
“Pardon me, mate,” Hobie said, catching the man’s attention.
The man froze at the sight of Spider-Man, hanging up the phone. Hobie glanced at his badge and saw his name.
“James, is it? Well, I heard you were giving the women you work with some grief.”
“W-what do you want?” James stuttered.
Hobie started to back him into a corner. “You know how Spider-Man believes in…fairness and what not?”
“Y-yeah?”
“Well, I believe your attitude isn’t very fair to your co-workers.”
“Listen, man, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I-“
Hobie didn’t let him finish, giving him a shove back to cut him off.
“Consider this your warning, James,” Hobie said in a low tone. “Stay away from my girl, and you won’t see me again.”
With that, he swung away, leaving James shaking like a leaf.
----
The next day, when you got home from work, you immediately went to Hobie. He was in the kitchen, fixing some dinner for the two of you.
“Hey, babe, how was work?” He asked, putting his spoon down and going to you to give you a kiss on the cheek.
“It was…good. James didn’t bother me at all, or any of the girls, actually. It was weird, but I’m not complaining.”
Hobie hummed and went back to his cooking. You tilted your head to the side, confused at his reaction. You hopped up onto the counter next to where he was working.
“Hobie…did you do something?” You asked.
“What? Nah, I don’t even know this guy,” he answered.
"Hm, okay," you said. You hopped off the counter, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and went to get changed.
Hobie smiled to himself, knowing that James wouldn't mess with you anymore.
308 notes · View notes
nexility-sims · 4 months
Text
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𝐍𝐎. 𝟏   ❛ 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 ❜   |   VARIOUS LOCATIONS AND YEARS
❧  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.
❛ The queen’s voice broke as she talked. Staring into the camera, she willed the tears to stay. Her eyes grew glassy, and the small audience before her—palace staffers and journalists, a mixed array of stone faces and quivering lips—blurred into a white haze. The decision to speak had come early in the morning as she sat alone in bed. The windows and doors were thrown open, and she stared at the moon until she could see the rabbits dancing upon its surface. Her hair was gone by then, wrapped in a bundle to accompany her daughter into the first of her graves. With one hand, Beatriz felt her scalp, with its hair shorter now than even on the day she was born. Mothering had never come easy to her. Neither her children nor her subjects received her love in full, or the way they desired it, or when they needed it. She had tried her hardest for Sayfa, of which she made no secret. Still, because she could not trust herself to have shown it, she also could not trust that her daughter had known.
𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓
❧ woo, finally ! mixed feelings, but the important part is that it's done. my favorite part is the rowena guest appearance, personally :^)
TRANSCRIPT:
[RV] Good morning. I’m Inti Rivera. Today, the nation prepares for the funeral of Princess Safya. This daytime in memoriam edition of UBC Nightly News will be followed by live coverage of the procession.
[RV V.O.] Princess Safya was born in 1950 to the recently crowned Queen Beatriz and her second husband, Matias Villar. With the preference for male heirs ended, the princess was presumed to be a future queen.
[RV V.O.] The Queen elected to reveal her daughter’s name at the annual naming festival in Yaas. She was the first royal infant in two generations to participate. Princess Safya would later do the same with all three of her own children.
[RV V.O.] Although she was her mother’s heir and began accompanying the queen on business early, the princess was also close with her father. Commentators regularly noted their similar personalities and interests, as did Queen Beatriz herself.
[RV V.O.] Mother Rowena, formerly queen, returned to public life following Princess Safya’s birth. The princess shared her first patronage with her grandmother, and the pair became the most popular royals. [I] Can you tell us where you were today, my princess? [S] We visited an orphanage. The children are less fortunate, so we take care of them. I’m happy to say that is my responsibility now.
[I] How did the princess do today, Mother Rowena? [R] I don’t know how she can stand upright with a heart of gold! She’s full of empathy, this little girl, for others. She’ll be a servant her whole life, just like her grandfather. I envy everyone who’ll live to see it. [S] {Gasps.}
[RV V.O.] In the eyes of many, Princess Safya ceased to be a little girl when she announced her engagement in 1968 to Rodrigo Dardarich. The news excited the public but was not without controversy. [S] Some will say this is quick. We accept that. It is. However, it’s also true what they say: when you know, you know.
[RV V.O.] The Princess married in 1969. In a first, the family shared behind-the-scenes photographs of preparation for the ceremonies. Her new husband, in another break from tradition, would not share Safya’s titles. The princess penned a letter to the public for the occasion, calling her marriage, quote, “the first true act of my own, my first real decision.”
[RV V.O.] Critics who expressed suspicion of the relationship were vindicated soon enough. The princess and Lord Rodrigo became a favorite subject of photographers. The most skilled captured public arguments on multiple occasions throughout the years. These photos proved lucrative as interest in the couple and their life together continued to grow.
[RV V.O.] In 1975, the Office of the Crown Princess issued a formal statement refuting an “investigation” published by Concordia that year. The paper alleged impending divorce, with lurid but unsubstantiated details of infidelity and financial strain. The Crown declined to support privacy legislation proposed by the Assembly of Uspana in 1976, 1977, and 1980.
[RV V.O.] Princess Safya and Lord Rodrigo gave a joint interview on the state of their marriage in 1985. The unprecedented, polarizing broadcast broke daytime viewership records. The interviewer, Isabel Eannes, was widely panned by most viewers and commentators. [S] I don’t think that’s a fair question. [I] So, you disagree, then? You haven’t been unhappy?
[R] She’s unhappy right now—she hates combative journalists. [S] {Laughs.} No! I don’t hate anyone. We asked for this. We begged.
[I] Let’s talk about the ring, then. It’s new. Smaller. Why? [S] People like us don’t get do-overs. But, we’re trying anyway. [R] The alternative is being apart. That’s impossible. It can’t happen. We must try, even if it isn’t easy. [S] It’s hard, but that’s love. ‘To love someone is to suffer for them.’ [I] {Scoffs.} That is Tecuani maxim, isn’t it?
[RV V.O.] The princess gave birth to her first child, Leonor, in 1970. To the nation’s delight, Princess Safya and her new baby were inseparable. [R] Let us see her! Can you talk a minute? Share something! [S] We’re late for a meeting, I’m sorry!
[RV V.O.] In 1974, Princess Safya and Lord Rodrigo welcomed their second child, Mateo. Her office announced two years later, on the heels of former Queen Rowena’s death, that Princess Safya would be scaling back to, quote, “refocus on her growing family.” She would regain her place as Uspana’s “hardest working royal” by 1981.
[RV V.O.] Princess Safya’s final child, Gil, was born in 1979. The princess had declared a decade prior that she hoped for a trio of children.
[RV V.O.] When asked in 1985 if she wanted more children, Princess Safya remarked that she was, quote, “retired” and “content” to await her future grandchildren instead of “competing” with her mother. Queen Beatriz has six children, all born between 1950 and 1962.
[RV V.O.] Princess Safya, like heirs before her, formally began her career as a working royal at the age of ten. Commentators described her that year as, quote, “articulate,” “cautious,” and “soft-spoken.”
[RV V.O.] The princess and her younger brother, Prince Arnaut, became regular members of their mother’s retinue. The Queen described her feelings on the matter in passing during a press conference: [B V.O.] “Teenager” is a weak term. Once, Safya would have governed a province in her own right as a teenager. No longer. We coddle and undertrain our heirs just like everyone else now. The assembly tells me that’s a “parenting” problem. Well, what I say is it certainly won’t be my problem when I’m dead, and you’re stuck with them! {Laughs.}
[RV V.O.] Queen Beatriz and Princess Safya were proactive concerning Leonor’s training as well. The pair remained inseparable in public, gaining valuable experience together. Before her death, the princess announced her daughter would join the team she intended to task with passing a new education initiative through the Assembly.
[RV V.O.] Princess Safya began crafting policy proposals in 1988 to encourage and improve access to higher education. In addition to boosting funding for Uspana’s institutions, the princess was in talks with lawmakers to make attending schools abroad a feasible, affordable option.
[RV V.O.] Princess Safya’s last official public appearance was during a tour of elementary schools in southern Uspana. The fatal yachting trip capped a month of nonstop travel. Having allegedly, quote, “hit a wall” with legislators, the princess was focusing on what she did best. Commentators as well as school administrators, teachers, parents, and students described her in warm terms. The princess was enthusiastic and always connected on a human level with her future subjects.
[RV] That concludes this morning’s in memoriam special. Now, we go to Bernardo Rea for live coverage at Nakawe Palace.
[RE] Good morning. The mood is somber at Nakawe Palace as the family and silent gathered crowds prepare for the procession. Moments ago, Queen Beatriz unexpectedly announced she intends to give televised remarks. We are waiting to be invited inside.
[B] My firstborn will be interred today. I doubt that requires prefacing. How can it? It’s reality. The burden is immense. I’ve done what I can to lift it from my family. After funeral rites, the most sacred ritual we have is to shear our hair. This is surrendering power—spirituality vulnerability. It says, “Give me the pain of mourning. I can carry it for us all.” Not just anyone can be so burdened. You must be ready. You have to be empty.
[B] My request for all of you, the hundreds of thousands who I suspect will gather across Uspana, is this: empty yourself for her. Cry for my daughter. Weep as profusely as you can. Fill the streets with water so it will carry her home—to the mountains that chose her, that chose to take her away from us all, from me. We will let her go together, as one People.
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hollandorks · 8 months
Text
haven
battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader
chapter one
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Summary: After the sudden deaths of your mother and grandmother, you’re forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke your heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, you vow to get to the bottom of your former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what you’re expecting. a
a/n: look a new series! Two things inspired this (besides my everlasting love for the Batman): @bellaxgiornata's angsty Daredevil fic All These Years, and @neutron-stars-collision's Waiting For the Night (which also features an investigative reporter reader, but is set during the film). If you're here because you loved motn, welcome back! If not, check out my other battinson fics here!
(side note: I know this is a reader insert and Dory is canonically white, but reader could be adopted. I never clarify that)
Series Masterlist
word count: 3k
“Both of them are–?” Y/n choked on the last word, unable to get it past the back of her throat. But she thought it anyway. Dead. 
It was early, too early, her pajamas and hair still rumpled from sleep. Three hours until her alarm would go off. The faux hardwood floors were cold beneath her feet. The warmth of her bed was a thousand miles away. Her heart still pounded from being woken by a harsh knocking at her door. When she’d checked the time on her phone, she had four hours of missed calls from Alfred and two from an unknown number.
Alfred put a gentle hand on her shoulder and squeezed. He was the last of her family now, though he didn’t share her blood. “I’m so sorry, darling girl.” 
Y/n’s grandmother, Dory, the woman who raised her, gone. Along with her daughter, y/n’s mother, the woman who abandoned her as a child. Both gone in one fell swoop. She can’t find it within herself to grieve too much for the woman who gave her life. She’d already abandoned her, over and over, the grief lessening each time. 
But her grandmother–A strangled noise passed her lips and Alfred hurried to step in to embrace her.
“She had a great life,” he said gently. “She lived long and lived well.” 
And somehow, it helped. Alfred had been in her grandmother’s life longer than she had, and therefore knew her better. She had lived well, her life long and full. She was eighty-five years old and had still been in relatively good shape, physically and mentally. 
Alfred held her while she cried, the minutes stretching long yet sharp. They pierced her over and over, each one a moment in which her grandmother no longer existed. She didn’t know how long she cried, only that it was nearly impossible to stop. 
“Bruce is covering all expenses, of course,” Alfred said as he released her. 
The name raced through her like a bolt of electricity. Bruce. Of course she had to see Bruce. Dory had worked for his family for nearly fifty years, after all. Her mind flashed back to her last conversation with Bruce, almost three years ago to the day. Hurt washed over her all over again. This one was different than the grief but just as sharp.
“That’s…too kind.” It’s the best she could do. Besides, her income as a journalist in Bludhaven wasn’t exactly enough to cover one funeral, let alone two. So she couldn’t tell Bruce to take his money and shove it. She knew it was a gesture of obligation not of goodwill. 
“You know you and Dory are our family,” Alfred said, his familiar accent a balm to her nerves. He hadn’t missed the almost visceral reaction to Bruce’s name. He had always known, even though he hadn’t ever said a word. 
She almost scoffed at the word family, but held it back at the last moment. Alfred was her family. Just as Bruce had been her family, once. 
I don’t have time for you, he’d practically snarled the last time she saw him. 
The words still ached. 
“Do you want to drive back with me?” Alfred asked, his voice pulling her from thoughts of the past. “Or I can get a hotel for the night if you need time to pack.” 
She hesitated. Part of her wanted to refuse, to wait until the absolute last minute to leave, to delay seeing Bruce again for as long as possible. But she owed it to her grandmother, at least, to be present for the plans honoring her life. And she was sure she needed to sign some paperwork to have the bodies released. 
Bodies. It’s a shock to think of them that way. Two people, two souls, reduced to shells in one accident. 
Her mind jumped to her last conversation with Dory, the previous Sunday. Four days ago. Now she was simply…gone. Had she told her she loved her? She couldn’t remember now, no matter how hard she tried. 
The ache was back, the tears flowing without her express permission. 
“No, let me just–grab a bag and we can go now. I’ll call work on the way.” It helped to have a manageable list of things to do. Pack. Go with Alfred. Call work. Sign papers. One step, one breath, one moment at a time. Which would be the same way she would handle seeing Bruce again. 
Thankfully the editor of The Bludhaven Tribune was more friend than boss and would completely understand. Besides, if it came down to it, she had a couple of weeks of unused vacation time saved up. Dory had always made the trip to her–at least for the past three years. She had understood the need to stay away from Gotham and the man who had broken y/n’s heart. So her vacation days were rarely used. 
Within an hour, y/n’s bags were packed and a fresh cup of coffee was waiting in the cupholder of Alfred’s car. The cold air was a shock to her overloaded system. Her chest was too tight, her breathing labored. She couldn’t tell what was hurting worse–the grief for her grandmother or the anxiety of seeing Bruce again. 
A silly, hopeless crush, he’d said three years ago. 
A silly, hopeless crush that still hadn’t gone away, despite the fact that he’d effectively ground her heart to dust beneath his heel with the words. 
A few minutes into the drive, another question bubbled to the surface. “Alfred…” she began, unsure how to find the bravery to ask. “Did she suffer? Did they suffer?” Because, as many times as her mother had broken her heart, she was still her mother. 
Alfred was quiet so long that she feared the worst. But then, finally, “I don’t believe so, no. Your mother was driving. Dory was the passenger, where the impact was. And before you ask, your mother was clean.” 
She did flinch this time.
It had been her first thought. She was glad of the answer though, twisted as it sounded. 
She knew exactly why they were driving together. Because she used to take her grandmother to her appointments, but after leaving Gotham three years ago…it became harder and harder to make the time in the middle of the week. 
And, surprisingly, y/n’s mother had stepped in. She wanted to make amends, her grandmother had told her. She’d scoffed at that, but couldn’t deny the relief that had washed over her. She loved her grandmother, but having to pick her up from Wayne Tower was a particular kind of torture. The place held too many memories, both good and bad, now so inextricably linked that the pain bled into the happier memories. 
“How long has it been since you’ve been back?” Alfred asked quietly, as if reading her mind. 
Her hands knotted in her lap. “In Gotham or…?” She let the rest of the question hang in the air. Or at Wayne Tower? Or in Bruce Wayne’s presence? Because all three had slightly different answers. 
Alfred gave her a look before turning his attention back to the road. 
Y/n sighed softly. “Three years, give or take a few weeks.” 
“You never came inside when picking up Dory?” 
“No.” Her heart clenched with pain. “That’s why my mother…” 
Alfred nodded in understanding. “Maybe this can be…a new beginning,” he finally said. “Things are different. I think he needs you more than either of you realize.” 
No need to ask who he was. She wanted to roll her eyes, but Alfred meant well. Of course he wanted her and Bruce to make up, to go back to the way things were. 
He didn’t know how thoroughly Bruce Wayne broke her heart. 
“Then Bruce can apologize.” She crossed her arms. Because, as much as she still loved him, Bruce had been in the wrong, not her. It had taken him a long time to turn his anger on her, but he finally had…right after she had confessed her feelings for him. 
Y/n spent the rest of the drive in silence, the grief for her grandmother numbing her inside and out even as it warred with the anxiety gnawing at her gut. 
She thought about how it would feel to step into Wayne Tower again. How it would feel to step inside and not be greeted with a warm embrace from her grandmother. With her love. With her understanding. With her gentle manipulations to get her to help her with the housekeeping duties for free.
A few tears slipped out. God, she was gone. Y/n would never again hug her or speak to her or have her tell a story to help her fall asleep–something that happened even as an adult. Something she had done to help ease the heartbreak of three years ago.
She startled as a hand took hers. Alfred said nothing, merely squeezed. 
When she looked up, the city of Gotham was spread before her. She saw the neon lights from Gotham Square Garden near the city center, bright despite the early morning hour. Fog wound its way through the streets, a proper gloomy Gotham welcome to suit her mood. 
Though Bludhaven wasn’t far, it was much sunnier than the city of her birth. 
In the past year since the flood, Gotham became even gloomier. The streets were dirtier, darker, half the streetlights still broken. She remembered suddenly, vividly, the fear she’d felt upon hearing the news. She’d been called into work late at night last November. The office had been chaotic, frantic, Gotham’s nearest big city neighbor gearing up to help but also to tell the stories. 
Y/n is ashamed to admit that her first thought hadn’t been of her grandmother. 
It was of Bruce. 
Alfred, she had known, had been safe in the top floors of the hospital. She’d returned from a visit only the day before. The panic from the news of the explosion, caused by a serial killer, had barely worn off. Even after seeing Alfred was okay with her own eyes, she felt a lingering panic. Even after Alfred told her that Bruce hadn’t been home at the time and was perfectly fine.  
But Bruce–and by extension Dory–were unknown variables in the flooding. Had they been evacuated? Had either been present for the new mayor’s event? Had they remained safe in the tower, partially blown up as it was? 
She had waited sixteen excruciating hours before finally hearing that they were safe. Unharmed, even. 
The air around y/n suddenly darkened. While she was daydreaming of the past, they had reached their destination. Alfred pulled into the private, street level parking garage reserved for family only. There were several other cars there, including Bruce’s favorite classic sports car. The sight of the car alone made her chest ache. 
Y/n stared vacantly at the car. She startled as Alfred suddenly opened her door with her bags in his hand.
She blinked slowly, dazed. 
It was too much to deal with. Losing her family, coming back to Gotham, back to Bruce…She wanted nothing more than to go back to bed. It felt like eons since the Alfred at her door woke her, though it was only a couple of hours at most. 
As she followed Alfred to the private elevator, she wondered if Bruce would avoid her. If he would hide from the uncomfortable as he so often did. Part of her hoped he did. Part of her hoped she could get through everything without seeing him. But that was stupid. He would be, at the very least, at the funerals. 
Another wave of grief nearly knocked her over. She had to bury the last bit of blood relations she had. Had. The past tense was another unavoidable wave threatening to drown her. Her mother and grandmother both only existed in the past now. 
Y/n suddenly realized that that was how Bruce had been feeling for two decades. The feeling of being utterly alone in the universe, no one but himself left with his family name, his family legacy. But his was worse, so much worse. She had, at least, had her family for twice as long as he had. And that counted for something. 
The elevator ride was long and slow. Or maybe that was grief and panic warping time until she had no idea if the ride had just started or was about to end. Despite getting almost seven hours of sleep from a rare early night, she was exhausted. Her limbs were made of lead, her eyes heavy, her brain begging to be switched off. 
The smell alone, the particular blend of dust and old paper, was enough to make her knees weak. Ten thousand memories flooded back all at once, so many of them that she couldn’t fixate on any single one. 
The doors slid open and Alfred stepped out with her bags. 
But she had to press a hand to the wall of the elevator to steady herself as a familiar deep voice rang out in the silence. “That was fast,” Bruce said. God, his voice. “Did she decide to stay until the last moment then?” 
Alfred didn’t answer, because y/n’s presence stepping from the elevator was enough. 
Her heart was somewhere in her throat, or maybe her knees. She couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t. She couldn’t bear to look at him and see the indifference he now felt for her. She couldn’t look at him and hold a thousand more memories. 
She couldn’t look at him and love him, knowing he didn’t feel the same. 
The silence was deafening and finally, finally, she tore her eyes from the floor and looked up. 
There was a rush in her ears as she beheld him for the first time in three years. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of a pair of dark, well-worn jeans. His shirt was too big for him and his hair–his hair was longer. Her eyes skipped over him hungrily, noticing more and more differences in the person she used to know better than herself. 
He was taller, for one. She thought men stopped growing at twenty-five years old, or something like that. Or maybe it was the way he held himself, like he was more sure of his place in the world. And his shoulders were more broad, his arms more muscular. Bruce had all at once become…a man. Not that he hadn’t been a man three years before, but something about him was…more.
There were heavy bags beneath his eyes, like he hadn't slept. And, she supposed, if he was the one who had answered the call about her grandmother and mother, he likely hadn’t. 
She realized that they both had been staring at each other in silence. Alfred half-stepped out of the foyer like he couldn’t decide whether or not to give them privacy or stay to make sure they wouldn’t tear out each others’ throats. She wondered what Bruce had told him about their fight. Had it been the truth? Or had he played it close to the vest, like always? 
“Hi,” she finally said. Her mouth was dry and her voice cracked on the word. There was so much she wanted to say to him. Thank you and I’m sorry and I still love you even if you hate me were all warring to be first. 
“Hi,” he said back. His blue eyes pinned her to the spot. They seemed bluer, or maybe she had forgotten the exact shade of them. She wanted to close her eyes and sink into the familiar comfort of him, but those days were far gone. Three years gone. 
“I–” She wasn’t sure what words would come out but the need to fill the silence was too great. 
He beat her to it. “I’m so sorry,” he said. She knew he meant about her family and not about three years before. She knew it in the way she knew most things about him, born of the sheer amount of time they spent together throughout their lives. Even with three years separating their last interaction, she could still read him. Maybe not as well as she used to but still well enough. 
She couldn’t think of a single thing to say. She couldn’t say It’s okay, because it wasn’t. Or, I missed you, even though she did. Or even Thank you, because he hadn’t done anything other than offer to pay for the funerals. 
“Your old room is ready,” Bruce said and his eyes flickered away. Was he so tired of her already? 
I don’t have time for you and your silly, useless crush. The words seemed to echo in the air. Was he able to hear them too? 
“Who–” 
“She kept it ready for you,” Bruce said and his voice softened, easing the blow. 
A stray tear escaped.
Of course she had. Y/n’s grandmother was nothing if not optimistic. 
She had to take a breath and close her eyes against the wash of pain. Dory had kept her room ready for her, even knowing that Bruce Wayne broke her heart, even knowing she wouldn’t step foot inside Wayne Tower again unless absolutely necessary. 
As always, y/n’s grandmother had ensured that she always had a place to come home to. You’ll always have a home with me, she had said the day y/n left Gotham. 
She stepped away, eyes still closed, feet knowing the way by heart. When she opened them, she saw Bruce’s hand fall, as if he had reached out, perhaps to comfort her. 
The pain of that missing touch was too much. 
She simply nodded once. 
And then she fled. 
Her childhood bedroom was exactly as she had left it three years ago, free of dust, the linens on the bed so fresh she could still smell the detergent. 
She threw herself onto the bed and finally let herself cry. 
Next Chapter
taglist:
@ktficworld
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avelera · 1 month
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I've been talking with a few people irl about the TikTok ban and I was wondering if I could get your take on it? (iirc you work in election security). Mainly I'd like to know why TikTok/China is *uniquely* bad wrt dating mining/potential election interference when we've seen other companies/governments do the same thing (thinking of the Russian psyops here on Tumblr in 2016). It feels like the scope is so narrow that it doesn't come close to targeting the root problem (user privacy and data mining as a whole), leading me to think it's only point is "ooh China Scary". Thoughts? (No worries if you'd rather not get into it, I just thought of you as someone who might have more insight/informed opinions on the matter).
So I'm not really familiar with all the details of the case and certainly not all the details of the bill. But I will give my perspective:
TikTok as a particular threat to users' data and privacy has been known for some time in the cybersecurity world. US government employees and contractors have been straight-up forbidden to have it on their phones for some time now. I, for example, have never had it on my phone because of these security concerns. (Worth noting, I'm not a government employee or contractor, it was just a known-to-be dangerous app in the cybersecurity world so I avoided it.)
This is because the parent company, as I understand, has known connections to the Chinese government that have been exploited in the past. For example, to target journalists.
Worth noting, another app that would potentially be on the chopping block is WeChat, which also has close ties to (or is outright owned by?) the Chinese government. This is just speculation on my part but it's based on the fact that all the concerns around TikTok are there for WeChat too and it has also been banned on government devices in some states, so I imagine it would be next if the bill passes.
I think this is important to note because I've seen some hot takes here on Tumblr have said that the entire case against TikTok is made up and there is no security threat. That is simply not true. The concerns have been there for a while.
However, the question of what to do about it is a thorny one.
The determination seems to be that so long as TikTok is still owned by its parent company with its direct ties to the Chinese government, there really is no way to guarantee that it's safe to use. From that angle, demanding that the company sever ties and set up some form of local ownership makes sense.
I am not a lawyer, but, that being said, forcing them to sell their local operations to a locally-based buyer is a pretty invasive and unusual step for legislators to take against a private company, even in a clear case of spying. I'm sure TikTok's widespread popularity is a big part of the threat it poses, which lends to the argument used to justify such an extreme step. (Because it is on so many phones, it really could be a danger to national security.)
That said, at one point young activists on TikTok embarrassed Trump (lots of good context in this article) while he was campaigning in 2020, and there was some talk then about shutting it down which seemed pretty clearly linked to how it was used as a platform to organize against him. I'm sure there's at least some right wing antipathy towards the app that has a political basis going back to this event. Trump signed an executive order banning it, the ban going into effect got bogged down in the courts, and then Biden rescinded that executive order when he got into office, pending an investigation into the threat it posed.
Those investigations seem to have further confirmed that the Chinese government is getting access to US user data through the app, and further confirmed it as a security threat.
Now, to muddy the waters further, there's several dodgy investment funds including one owned by former Secretary of the Treasury to Trump Steven Mnuchin that are circling with an interest to buy TikTok if it does sell. That's very concerning.
Funds like Mnuchin's interest in purchasing TikTok (even though they do invest in other technologies too, so it is in their portfolio) definitely makes the motivations behind the sale look pretty damning as momentum builds, that it could be some sort of money grab here in the US.
China has also pointed out that forcing the sale of a company because of spying concerns like this opens a whole can of worms. If China thinks that, say, Microsoft is spying on their citizens, could they force the US company to sell its operations in China to a Chinese investor? Could they force Google? Could they even further polarize the internet in general between "free" and "not free" (as in, behind the great Chinese or Russian firewall, as examples) if this precedent is set, so that no Western companies can operate in authoritarian states without selling their local operations there to a government-controlled organization, and thus be unable protect their users there? Or, if you don't have so rosy a view of Western companies, could it effectively deal a blow to international trade in general by saying you have to have to sell any overseas arms of a company to someone who is from there? Again, I'm not a lawyer, but this is a hell of a can of worms to open.
But again, this is muddy because China absolutely is spying on TikTok users. The security reason for all of this is real. What to do about it is the really muddled part that has a ton of consequences, and from that angle I agree with people who are against this bill. Tons of bad faith consequences could come out of it. But the concerns kicking off the bill are real.
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merakiui · 1 year
Text
Thinking many Floyd thoughts, but the most coherent one is a journalist darling who goes to the prison that serial killer Floyd (who is on death row) is being kept at to interview him. Floyd has never spoken to a single journalist and has turned away all news and media outlets ever since he was incarcerated, only ever sitting down for monitored phone calls with his brother Jade and his friend Azul. Perhaps his opinion on journalists has changed, or he’s grown bored and wishes to speak to a new face.
You’re not frightened when you sit across from him. He’s in handcuffs and there’s an officer standing at attention should Floyd get any ideas. You’ve talked to plenty of criminals in your career. Granted, none can compare to the violent brutality Floyd has inflicted over the years, but even so underneath the merciless veneer of a killer he is still human. 
He stares at you, a blank look on his face, while you gather your notes and set a recording device on the table. His mismatched eyes are drawn to it, slowly at first, as if he’s a haunted portrait whose only modicum of free will is a slight movement of the eyes, and then his focus is back on you.
“Do you give your consent to record our conversation?” you ask, gazing at him while he looks through you.
“Go ahead. S’not a big deal to me.” He shrugs.
“All right. Thank you.”
You introduce yourself. He mumbles his name even though you’re already well aware of it. He’s oddly polite and soft-spoken, talking to you as if this is just casual chit-chat between friends. You ask simple questions about how he’s been faring or what he does here, and though Floyd answers all of them with varying levels of blunt honesty and sarcasm you can tell he’s starting to get annoyed and impatient. His brows knit together, his shoulders square, and he’s gritting his teeth. 
You let him wallow in silence for five minutes. Often, if there is silence between two people, one will hurry to fill it. This is why most journalists try to ask open-ended questions to keep conversations flowing, and if things become stale they will usually resort to utilizing silence as a double-edged sword, prompting the other to speak in order to avoid awkward tensions. It works well, often creating more conversation. But this doesn’t seem to be the case with Floyd. He stares right back at you, his mouth clamped shut and jaw set so firm you can see the muscles straining in his neck. He’s challenging you, you realize, attempting to see how far he can push you in this silent, one-sided battle. 
When you breach ten minutes of silence, you give in and ask, “What are you thinking right now, Floyd?”
There’s a beat of silence, a shift in his body as his prison jumpsuit rustles with the movement, and then a sharp-toothed grin is sprawling on his features, his eyes alight with twisted delight. 
“You really wanna know?” He’s giddy, keeping it from you as if it’s a vicious secret. 
“I do,” you say, offering him an encouraging smile. “Please tell me if you feel comfortable.”
And oh does he feel comfortable. He leans forward in his seat, meeting you halfway, utilizing the same tactic interviewers use when building rapport and trust with suspects. You recall one note you’d scribbled hastily: Floyd is an excellent mimic. You wouldn’t be surprised if he’s committed all of the tricks and traps investigators use in order to pry answers from criminals to memory. 
“I’m thinkin’ about how easy it’d be to kill ya,” he whispers, tilting his head like a sweet, innocent child who expects a pat on the head for good work. “I’d take a knife to your throat and saw through skin and sinew until you’re wearin’ a necklace of red. You know they dress it up in movies, yeah? Takes a little while to truly kill ya, though. And you choke on your own blood during it. You can’t even scream for help. It’s super gross, but not much you can do when you’re dyin’. Death ain’t pretty.”
“I...” You gaze at the recording device; it’s still running smoothly. “I see.”
“You’d be a really lame kill, y’know. No fun at all.” He looks away, boredom darkening his face. “I coulda grabbed ya from off the street, squeezed your little throat until your eyes popped, and that’d be it. Or I’d break your neck. Maybe kick your ribs ‘til they cracked and tear your lungs open. Paint ya in a real pretty red.”
You stare at him, absorbing every threat. The officer looks just as stiff as you, but you were expecting to hear the worst when you ventured here. This shouldn’t be a surprise. 
What really surprises you is how quick he shifts through moods. One minute he’s pouting about how boring you would be to slaughter, and the next he’s turned his body back towards you, smiling so brightly, his eyes devoid of frigid malice. 
“But your shoes are really neat! Super cool. Always wanted to own a pair like that, y’know. But my work got ‘em dirty all the time, so I gave up buyin’ nice shit for myself.”
You’re not sure how long you spend in that room with Floyd, interviewing him and seeing all facets of his personality, but by the time you’ve finished—Floyd’s frowning when you announce your leave, even going so far as to whine and say, “Already? I wanna talk more!”—you feel so very drained. He’s definitely interesting, even more so when he starts to go out of his way to request to see you, asking the officers so sweetly. You’ve yet to write any articles about him—there’s still so much information and recordings to sort through—but you visit Floyd every time he asks to see you, if only to learn more about what makes him Floyd and what makes him a feared serial killer. 
You expect the unexpected with him, but you really couldn’t have expected he’d propose months into your acquaintanceship. You think he doesn’t truly grasp the fact that he’s on death row, that his execution date could be any day of this month or any day in the next few years, that polite society deems it wrong for serial killers and law-abiding citizens to be wed. You illustrate this boundary clearly to him. He pouts about it, grumbles about how it’s “not fuckin’ fair,” and then he drops the subject entirely. You don’t hear anything more from him about marriage or how he loves you so much until a few weeks later when you turn the recording device off after yet another successful interview and his fingers catch your wrist, dragging you down so he can whisper in your ear.
“I wasn’t askin’ an open-ended question,” he mutters, his tone low and threatening. “It was yes or no, Shrimpy.”
He releases you when the officer yanks him back, scolding him for laying his hands on you and advising him that, if he isn’t going to follow the rules, he won’t be permitted to see you. Floyd’s humming and nodding his obedience, all giggles and grins, while the officer helps him stand from the chair, guiding him to the door. His eyes remain pinned on you as you pack your bag, awkwardly avoiding his petrifying stare. And just before the door shuts and officially separates the two of you, he smiles at you.
Even when you’re all alone, clutching the recording device in your shaky hand, you wonder if there’s more to those ominous words than what you were hearing. A warning, perhaps? Foreshadowing? You hope you’ll never find out.
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phoenixyfriend · 2 months
Text
Calls for Action, Call Your Reps: 3/12/24
This is USA-specific, as that is the place I live and know.
Find your elected officials.
As usual, most of my information on what bills are on the floor comes from GovTrack. I am including some suggested listening/reading (you can find text versions if you google the title and 'transcript') at the bottom of the post. I am also including a current event that is likely to be a very powerful argument, with the right politicians. The event is prefaced with a red warning tag, and followed by event-specific verbiage.
Suggested verbiage and strategies for calling your elected officials. We've recently seen politicians, including Biden, start to pivot towards the "Israel is increasing danger to itself" argument in public statements.
The most immediate and pressing issue at this moment is the famine in Gaza. The air drops are inefficient and dangerous (several people died due to a parachute malfunction), and the floating pier will not be ready any time soon. Trucks across land borders MUST be allowed in.
At this time, the three greatest factors in that famine are:
Israeli bombardment (destruction of existing food stores and farming land).
Israeli blockades of the Egyptian border into Gaza, preventing aid trucks from places like the US from reaching people, and turning away trucks on their own side of the northern and eastern border that contain items like medical scissors, solar panels, and anesthetic.
The cessation of funding to UNRWA, which has been the lifeline to Palestinian civilians for decades, and is currently the best and possibly only chance to save the one and a half million dying civilians
This information is being reported by the WHO, UNRWA itself, UNICEF, and more, along with journalists that are in Gaza at this time.
Both House and Senate:
Reinstate funding for UNRWA. While the claims made by Israel that employees of the relief agency were involved in Oct. 7th are troubling, THEY are not well supported, and western officials did not do their duty in investigating the claims before cutting funding. This arm of the UN is currently providing food, water, shelter, and medical care to the 2.3 million displaced peoples of Gaza. It is especially disturbing and concerning that the many children of Gaza, who are already suffering due to this conflict, are now having this support revoked. Many sources are also claiming that the evidence is flimsy at best.
Urge both Senate and House to refrain from funding Israel, or to at least put some strings on it. The IDF cannot be given funding without some regulations on what they can do with it. They have proven that they are unwilling to take steps to protect civilians.
Sanctions must also be placed on Israel for its continued impediment of aid intended for Gazans, including aid from the US.
Urge for the US to stop vetoing ceasefire demands in the UN. No, the suggested replacement written by the US is not an excuse.
Not directly related to Gaza: It looks like they’re gearing up for another push at KOSA. The canned email responses I’m getting are really proud of being in support of KOSA, which is… bad. It is also bad for people outside the US, including Palestine, apparently. VOTE NAY.
Not related to Gaza:
The US, France, and Canada are meddling in the Haitian government and pressing for "peace" under US terms. The international community cannot continue to seed problems in this country for their own purposes. Also, feel free to drop a note about how France and the US need to pay reparations for the double debt.
Domestic affairs: Press for a less harsh immigration policy than the one currently in Congress. Press for investigation into the Boeing whistle-blower death, and for stricter oversight and safety regulations on large corporations.
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littlejuicebox · 23 days
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A Pocket Full of Rainbows, A Star Up My Sleeve (1950s AU) / Chapter 1: The Drive In
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Click here to read on AO3.
Summary: It's 1957, and for the first time in his life, Astarion Ancunin is happy. He's a newlywed, his spouse, Gustav Adler, is the editor-in-chief of the city's second most prominent newspaper, and they play keeping up with the Atherwindes next door. They are picture-perfect domesticity. Or so it seems. Secrets Astarion has kept hidden from his spouse begin to surface around their first anniversary, and Gustav is left to wonder... who exactly did he marry?
Tags/Warnings: This one starts off with smut (light BDSM if you squint and tilt your head) in Chapter 1 so there's that. This longfic will have a lot of hurt/angst/comfort + mild gore + mentions of Astarion's past trauma. I will update with a warning if there is a significant concern in any chapter.
Notes: Special thanks to @leomonae for beta-reading and holding my hand while I write this entire thing that has taken hold of me body and soul. And special thanks to all the awesome supportive people on my discord server that have hyped me up enough to give me the courage to post this.
-----
Cigar smoke spirals out of the barely cracked mahogany door and into the newsroom as the editor-in-chief, Gustav Adler, finalizes the layout for this weekend’s edition of the Baldur’s Herald. He’s running late — he should have been halfway home, by now. His wife is going to be furious with him if they miss the beginning of the movie. 
But this story has a chance of finally getting the Baldur’s Herald ahead of the Baldur’s Gate Gazette; he has to get it just right. There is still more investigation to be done, of course, but no one can deny several missing persons and multiple eyewitness reports of a mindflayer in the lower city. It’s certainly enough to sell papers and promote intrigue. 
The paper had gotten a decent boost when he’d been promoted to editor-in-chief a few years ago. The promotion of an openly gay man – a half-drow, nonetheless – to the position had garnered quite a bit of attention. Good and bad, of course. But as the saying goes, all publicity is good publicity. 
In the Herald’s case, that had been true. The groundbreaking move had put the previously small paper on the map and quickly catapulted it to second place in the rankings, where it had been ever since. Tav was convinced it would only take one powerful story to overtake the Gazette; he felt confident the culmination of this story would be the one to do it. 
A rapid knock on the door pulls Gustav from his work as he takes another drag of his nearly finished cigar; his top investigator, Karlach, is leaning against the door jamb. 
“There’s been another mindflayer sighting. Dekarios is on the ground now, I’m on my way to meet him,” she says, her eyes alight with excitement. The tiefling had been chasing this story for weeks and finally had enough for her article to make the front page of this weekend’s issue.
“Excellent — I’ll be back in the office tomorrow morning, Kar. I expect an update then. I would go with you two, but the wife won’t forgive me if I cancel two weeks in a row,” Gustav responds as he extinguishes his cigar in the unfinished coffee that sat atop his desk all day. 
Karlach chuckles good-naturedly as she straightens from the doorframe and moves to put on the suit jacket she’d been holding in her hand. “Tell Astarion I said hello; and thank him again for mending this for me.” 
“Will do— oh, and Karlach, can you run this by the printers before you head out? It’s the final layout for the weekend edition,” the editor-in-chief says as he moves to exit his own office. He hands the mock-up to his journalist and heads out of the building for the night. In the parking lot, Gustav rushes to his car and hopes his wife isn’t too terribly upset with him for being a bit late.
Astarion had been Gustav’s secretary for nearly six months before he finally worked up the courage to ask the other man on a date. It was never easy for Tav, doing such a thing, although sexuality laws had changed in his early adulthood and it was common to see people just like him about the city nowadays.
He couldn’t have assumed Astarion was interested in men simply because he alternated between wearing suits and dresses – which had been, of course, one of the things that caught Tav’s attention and fascinated him early on. Astarion managed to look breathtaking in both; Gustav had never seen anything quite like him and spent more time than he should have admiring his secretary sitting just outside his office door. As it turned out, Astarion had been flirting with him for months; he had always worried he was misinterpreting the signals. 
It wasn’t until Karlach hassled him for a week that Tav finally broke down and asked Astarion to dinner. They dated for just under a year, and married as soon as they were legally allowed – all legal documentation still required assigned roles of husband and wife, and in the public sense, these designations were required across the board. They’d randomly assigned titles with the flip of a coin.
It seemed ridiculous, in the beginning. Bureaucracy and politics could be so short-sighted; the world never seemed to dot all its i's and cross all its t’s before moving on to the next agenda. In public, the couple always used the assigned titles; at first, this had been mostly to avoid confusion or ignorant comments. But then one night, Gustav had jokingly called Astarion his “wife” and it had instantly ignited something within his lover. He’d never seen his spouse so excited in bed until that moment. 
From then on, in public and in private, Astarion was his wife. The word just had different meanings depending on context. As an editor, Gustav could wholeheartedly appreciate the subtleties of the phrase; as a husband, he loved the effect the word had on his wife when they were in bed.
*
As Gustav pulls up to the brownstone townhouse he and Astarion share, he immediately notices the new gardenia shrubs and mulch surrounding the Atherwinde’s front stoop. A soft groan of annoyance escapes his lips; he’d planned to tend their own garden next weekend, but now he would have to move that project up. He was not about to let their annoying nextdoor neighbor, Edmund Atherwinde, throw subtle remarks at him for an entire week whenever they ran into one another while leaving for work. Gustav is almost certain Eddie waits to see when he comes out in the morning, just to harass him as they both climb into their Chevrolet Bel-Airs. Gustav’s is the most recent model; Eddie’s is last year’s model. Not that he’s comparing, of course.
He glances at his wristwatch; it’s twenty minutes past the time he was supposed to be home. They should still be able to eat dinner and make it to the drive-in. He grabs the bow-wrapped box from the backseat and then makes his way into the townhome.
A quick jangle of keys echoes through the short foyer before Gustav calls, “Astarion, I’m home!”
“You’re late,” a cool, clipped voice replies from the kitchen. “I’ve had to keep dinner warm in the oven for twenty minutes, Tav.” 
“I’m sorry, baby,” Gustav responds as he moves to join his wife. He presents the box to Astarion with a toothy smile and a wink. “But, perhaps this will make it up to you.” 
The scowl that had been painted across Astarion’s face soon pulls up into a grin as he takes the box from Tav. A quick tug of the black grosgrain ribbon reveals the present inside – a mink stole. A soft gasp escapes Astarion as he removes the fur shawl from the packaging and wraps it around his shoulders. 
“Gorgeous,” Gustav compliments as he admires his lover. “I think it will go well with the gown you plan on wearing for our anniversary dinner.”
“Of course it will, darling,” Astarion responds before lifting onto his toes and pressing a kiss against his husband’s cheek, right upon the old scar Gustav got back in his military days. “It’s beautiful, thank you. Now, dinner, dear– and we’d better hurry.”
*
Dinner was nothing to write home about. Astarion was a fair to middling cook nowadays – in the beginning of their marriage, he’d burnt nearly every meal he made. Almost a year later, he’d managed to get the hang of a few simple recipes. Gustav, to his credit, never complained. All his time in the military taught him to accept far meager offerings than his wife’s creations; if he could eat cold beans from an aluminum can, he could handle a slightly charred meatloaf. 
They made it to the drive in just as the last previews finished. Astarion had been exceptionally excited to see this film – a horror movie about vampires, of all things. Gustav was not particularly interested in the movie, but willingly endured for his wife’s happiness. Until, of course, Astarion pressed up against him a little over halfway through the film – an innocent reaction to the scene playing on screen – and gripped dangerously high on Gustav’s thigh. 
Desire immediately flared through Tav, and when he turned to look at his wife, he wanted nothing more than to smear the perfectly painted red lipstick on the other man’s lips. So he did.
They were locked in a passionate kiss for several minutes, the movie all but forgotten. Their tongues wrapped around one another in a familiar embrace, a comfortable dance the two of them had become accustomed to. It did not take long for Gustav to begin advancing eagerly upon his wife.
“You’re insatiable,” Astarion chuckles as his lover playfully nips into his neck. A delighted shiver ghosts up his spine.
“Can you blame me?” Gustav asks as his lips trail to his lover’s chest, just exposed by the neckline of Astarion’s collared dress. His tongue swirls along alabaster skin before a sly hand moves under the skirt hem. “You’re delicious… and I’d very much like to have a taste.” 
Gustav’s thick, purple-gray fingers run along the inside of Astarion’s pale, muscled thigh and travel all the way up to the edge of a sheer, nylon stocking. He quickly finds a garter strap, pulls, and releases the elastic band. Astarion jumps and gasps as the skin on his leg turns into gooseflesh; his husband palms insistently between his legs.
“S-surely you don’t mean here, Tav,” Astarion whispers, his legs spreading slightly, making more room to accommodate the hand teasing his hardening cock. But even as Astarion says it, he’s hoping his husband actually does mean here – the mere thought of such a scandalous act is causing arousal to dampen the front of his undergarments. 
“Mmh, and why not?” Gustav asks, already beginning to slide from his seat, down to the floorboard. He wanders his hand down under the seat and pushes it back as far as it will go. It isn’t much, but enough for him to comfortably kneel between Astarion’s legs. He brings his hands to his wife’s knees and slowly presses them open with a sly smile. 
“I…” Astarion tries to respond, his face suddenly feeling quite hot as a blush of both embarrassment and desire spreads across his skin. His mouth goes dry as he looks down at the man between his legs. Gustav is slowly pushing up the hem of Astarion’s skirt and peering up at his lover as he licks his lips. 
“Do you want me to stop?” He questions, cocking his head just slightly. When his wife doesn’t respond, he begins to lower Astarion’s skirt; his purple-gray hand is suddenly caught between slender, milky-white fingers.
“Keep going,” Astarion quietly urges before casting a glance out the window. They’re in the final row of the drive-in. Only one other car is in the same row as them, and the couple in that car are far too distracted by one another’s mouths to pay any mind to the two men.
Gustav hums happily as he unceremoniously lifts Astarion’s skirt and drops his head underneath; he’s greeted with a pale, leaking cock straining against a pair of sheer, silk panties. The sight causes his own cock to stir in his trousers. 
“Now be a good little wife and hold very, very still for me, baby,” Gustav commands with a final snap of Astarion’s garter strap. His wife gasps and squirms in his seat before obediently stilling. Tav doesn’t waste any more time with foreplay; his hands come under Astarion’s dress and quickly tear the underwear in two – he’ll buy a replacement pair later. Astarion’s cock springs proudly from its confines, bobbing slightly and begging to be sucked.
Tav brings both hands to the pale thighs on either side of his head as he pulls Astarion’s cock into his mouth. His tongue swirls around the head languidly, causing more pre-fluid to leak onto his tongue. The salty, musky taste makes his mouth water in delight. He’s certain he will never tire of tasting his wife.
A whimper escapes Astarion’s lips when his husband takes all of his length. Gustav’s warm, wet throat contracts around Astarion’s cock and then, much too soon, he retracts and begins to swirl his tongue around its pink, swollen head. Tav repeats this several times and each time his throat squeezes around Astarion, it takes everything within him to not buck upwards. His thighs are trembling. He so badly wants to move, to seek the heat of his lover’s mouth. But he wants to be a good wife, so he forces himself to obey the command. 
The excited keening becomes louder and more insistent the longer Gustav teases him. By now the movie is almost over, and Astarion is catching flashes of the end scene through blurred vision and panting breaths. He clamps his eyes shut as Gustav, once again, swallows him to the hilt. This time his husband holds the position and hums, both hands squeezing into Astarion’s thighs.
“Aah, Tav–” Astarion whimpers, his tone pleading, “Tav, please–” 
But Gustav retracts and his wife whines. He cannot help but smile at the neediness. He forces Astarion’s skirt up over his thighs, exposing his arousal-slicked face and his lover’s hard, weeping cock all at once. He peers up at his wife with a pleased smirk; Astarion meets him with half-hooded lids and blown pupils. 
“Already, baby? Really?” Gustav purrs, one hand coming to caress Astarion’s scrotum. He applies a light bit of pressure and admires the way pre-fluid dribbles from his lover’s desperate cock. His tongue darts out to slowly lap up the string of clear liquid running down Astarion’s shaft. “I don’t think I’ve worshiped my wife quite long enough.” 
Astarion impatiently squirms in his seat. He’d been doing a rather excellent job holding still until now, but the ache between his legs is growing increasingly insistent, and his husband has teased him long enough. When Gustav’s hands wrap around his cock he moans and his head falls back reflexively. The movie’s end credits are starting to roll. 
“Please, Gustav… I can’t– I can’t any longer, please–” Astarion begs, through sharp shaking breaths. His hips stutter forward insistently into the other man’s fists.
“Very well,” Gustav responds, and with little warning he drops his hands and takes all of Astarion in his mouth again. Pale fingers clutch into Tav’s cropped white hair, pulling slightly just at the nape of his neck. He hums his encouragement as he bobs his head up and down the length of his wife’s cock, covering it in saliva and spreading the growing amounts of pre-fluid dripping from its tip.
Gustav can tell by the breathy keening sounds his wife is making that he is close to release. His own cock is straining within his trousers – but that can wait until they get home. The first orgasm always leaves Astarion desperate for more, anyway. 
Tav swallows Astarion’s length once again, intentionally contracting his throat around the pale cock in his mouth. His wife bites back a moan and comes, hips thrusting up as warm seed spills down Tav’s throat. Astarion’s cock continues to pulse for a while longer, and Tav expertly swallows every last drop of his lover’s spend. 
When he feels the other man’s fingers retract from his hair, Gustav carefully pulls back and releases Astarion’s slowly softening cock. He swirls his tongue around the tip one last time, forcing a final whimper from his lover before easing back and placing a few kisses against Astarion’s thigh. 
“Darling,” Astarion pants as he runs his fingers through sweat-drenched curls. His lipstick is completely smeared across his face; he looks wrecked. “Take me home and make love to me.”
Gustav grins in response as he begins to climb back into the driver’s seat. Many of the cars in the lot have pulled away by now. “Anything for my beautiful wife.” 
*
They crash through the townhome door, a mess of half-removed clothing and desire. Astarion shoves Tav against the front entrance as soon as it shuts behind them and grinds himself along Tav’s thigh. The rotary phone in the living room is ringing, but they pay it no mind. 
Gustav quickly undoes the buttons of his wife’s dress and strips it from his body. He’s entirely naked underneath, save the garter belt and stockings – the ruined bits of underwear were left on the floorboard of the car. Astarion is undoing his husband’s belt buckle when the phone stops ringing; he moves to drop to his knees right in front of Tav, but he is quickly pulled back up.
“Not here on the tile, baby. It’s much too hard,” he murmurs as he guides his wife over to the carpeted living room. As soon as they’re in front of the couch, Astarion rips Tav’s trousers and undergarments off in one swift motion and then guides his husband to sit on the serpentine sofa. 
“Now, darling, let me repay you for earlier,” Astarion purrs as his hands teasingly slide up his lover’s purple thighs. He’s just about to take Gustav’s cock in his hands when the phone begins ringing again; it’s a sharp, shrill, distracting sound.
Gustav groans in irritation. He quickly leans over to pull the handset from the stand and uses a finger to hang up on the caller. He tosses the receiver haphazardly, leaving it off the hook so that the phone will not ring and interrupt him and his wife again. It’s well past ten at night; whoever is calling can wait until the morning and call back then.
He turns his attention back to Astarion and smiles. Then, he reaches out and brings two fingers under his wife’s chin before he gently presses upwards. They meet one another with a slow, gentle kiss. When Gustav retracts, Astarion is staring up at him in wide-eyed adoration.
“Now, where were we?” Gustav asks. Astarion chuckles in response before wrapping two pale hands around the cock in front of him; it’s already leaking in anticipation as he slowly strokes up and down the length.
“I think we were just getting to the good part, my love,” Astarion murmurs, peering up at his husband through hooded lids before dropping his head to take Gustav between a pair of lipstick-smeared lips.
The phone stays off the hook for the rest of the night. 
49 notes · View notes
wandabear · 9 months
Text
WISH YOU WERE HERE - WANDA MAXIMOFF X FEMALE READER
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Summary: 17 years ago, a New Jersey high school girls’ soccer team travels to Seattle for a national tournament. While flying over Canada, their plane crashes deep in the wilderness, and the surviving team members are left stranded for nineteen months. Based on Yellowjackets
Jules is portrayed by Adelaide Kane. Here.
Author's Notes: A little advice? Please, listen to 'Lighting crashes' when you start 'NOW'.
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Warnings: death, angst, fluff. This is the finale.
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CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN FINALE
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCHAPTER EIGHT
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BEFORE
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The following months were as hard as they expected. Surviving became harder and painful, especially for their spirits. The girls could barely move in that cabin that was surrounded by snow.
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Despite the care of his sister and friends, Pietro's pneumonia ended his life after fighting for weeks.
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Desolation was all Wanda knew for a long time, but thanks to the support of Y/N and the girls, she was able to move on as the months went by. Guilt choked her for a long time until she realized it was beyond what she could do. The death of her twin brother hurt Wanda in the depths of her heart. Soon they will die too.
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But the one who didn't seem to find peace was Y/N; inside her, the guilt grew more and more. Pietro died to save her, and now she was there. Leading a group of hopeless girls trying to survive another day, and in the only way they could.
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Finally the snow disappears, allowing them to bloom with spring, revitalizing their spirits. Of course, that didn't mean they were going to be saved, they had all lost that hope a long time ago. They were just a bunch of girls when before they were a huge team.
But when they least expected it, one day, a small plane flew over that lake, noticing the signals they sent. They all screamed and made as much noise as possible to be seen until Y/N fired the flare with a look full of hope.
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They will return home.
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“The investigation into the cause of the accident remains preliminary.” One of the journalists commented live along with many more outside the New Jersey airport room. “The crash site was over 600 miles north.”
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But before the journalist could continue, the doors opened and some hooded girls left there to go to the truck parked outside. The policemen tried to shield them from the journalists who charged at them like wild beasts thirsty for blood. 
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“Here they come!” One of the reporters yelled. “Let's go!”
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The reporters were clamoring for answers, the camera's shutters clicking every second; the despair on the faces of those girls. Wanda's green eyes widened, completely terrified. Taking care of her, Y/N and Natasha took and tried to get their friends out of that place.
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“Can you tell us anything?” One of them was trying to get the mic closer to Jules, but Natasha just pushed him. “Natasha, what happened?!”
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“Y/N, Who survived?!”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “How did you survive the cold?” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Wanda! Where’s your brother?!”
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“How'd you survive for so long?”
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“What happened to the rest?”
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“Tell us something... anything!”
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All those questions haunted them all the way to the police station. Some cried with happiness while others were simply anxious to see their families again.
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The first to arrive were Wanda's parents, who hugged the brunette with so much love and support. Between tears and various affectionate words, they celebrated her return but also mourned the loss of Pietro. Oleg said that they could talk about it later, that the important thing now was to go home.
Everyone's parents came for them, including Natasha and Alexei, the big man ran up and hugged Nat and Yelena like a huge protective bear.
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Everyone was again surrounded by their loved ones, except Y/N and Jules who called home several times but no one came. Auntie Claire never left the house alone unless she was working.
The black-haired girl hung up the public phone and walked towards Y/N in that police station.
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“I tried it like six times.” Jules sighed and sat down next to Y/N, who was looking worriedly towards the door. Why was her aunt taking so long?
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“Me too, I called Claire and mom's house but got nothing.” Y/N sighed and slumped back in the seat. She looked around, noticing how Nat and her parents were approaching them.
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“Hello, girls. We were thinking… Do you want us to take you home?” Alexei offered with a warm look. Melina nodded quickly, delighted with the idea. They always adored those two, they were an odd couple but really good people.
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“Umh… we're actually hoping that-” Jules tried to say but then swallowed hard. “Actually, I would like to know… my mother is not answering the phone. Did mom say that she would come later or something?”
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At that moment, the Maximoffs, who were also nearby, approached standing on one side of the Romanoff’s.
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“Everything's okay?” Oleg asked curiously, noticing how the girls were getting more and more nervous.
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“Mr. Maximoff… My aunt isn't answering the phone. Do you know if she will come?” Y/N stood up, looking at the man with concern.  “I was thinking maybe you knew because you’re neighbors.”
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“Oh, sweetie.” Mrs. Maximoff said with sadness, as did Natasha's parents. “Has no one told you?”
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“You don't know yet?” Melina murmured worriedly.
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“Tell us what?” Jules asked, raising an eyebrow, fearing the worst. “Please, tell us what?”
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“Oh, girls.” Melina placed a hand on both of their shoulders and sighed.  “I think you'd better come with us, okay?”
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“I would like to stay, I don't want my mom to come and not see us here. She will freak out.” Jules said quickly, taking a step back. Of course, she could tell that they had some bad news to give them and she was completely refusing to receive it.
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“Mama... What's wrong?” Natasha frowned, standing next to them.
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“Sweetie…” Melina started and then looked around the other parents, getting their approval. They deserved to understand why Claire hadn't arrived.  They deserved the truth, maybe not in that way, but the girls didn't seem to accept leaving without an answer.  “Claire had a heart attack some time ago.”
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“She died.” Iryna took courage when saying those words, feeling a deep sadness when she saw how tears formed in the eyes of those girls. “She had a heart attack when the plane crash happened. I’m so sorry.”
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Shaking her head, tears running down her cheeks, Y/N was not willing to hear that. Of course she wasn't going to accept it.
She wasn’t going to accept the death of the person who cared for her all her fucking life, after having seen suffering and death in the Canadian taiga.
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“That's not true, she wouldn't leave us.” Y/N narrowed her eyes, taking a more defensive position due to the pain. Like a wounded animal.
Y/N just hugged Jules, who just started crying uncontrollably.
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 Feeling enormously sorry for them, their friends tried to comfort them and the adults just decided to give them the necessary space for it.
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“You can come with us if you want.” Alexei offered them, hugging Y/N and Jules for some time. Claire and Melina had always been good friends, that's how she met Nat.
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“I- I don’t know.” Jules stammered through tears, she couldn't even speak. “I just want to know what happened. I just want my mom, I wanna go home-”
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“Please, at least for tonight. Come with us, okay?” Melina asked both of them, taking their hands.
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“You know that you count on us for whatever you need.” Iryna, Wanda's mother, offered with immense tenderness. Wanda nodded quickly.
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After a moment, Jules nodded and took a step forward, realizing that her mother wasn't coming. Her mom passed away a long time ago and she just wanted to know why.
But unlike Jules, Y/N couldn't just leave it like that. The pain inside began to consume her, the rage and the anger that she felt against this world so difficult and destructive. How is it possible? After suffering so much. This was messed up.
Y/N clenched her fists tightly.
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“Y/N?” Wanda noticed the tension in her girlfriend and approached her, taking Y/N’s fist in her hands. She didn't care that her parents saw it, Wanda loved that girl with all her heart. “Please, come with us.”
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Green eyes looked at Y/N's, and even though that connection was still there, something was broken in Y/N. And she knew something was off.
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“I just-” Unable to speak of what she felt or accept it, Y/N swallowed and moved away from her, letting go of the brunette's hand. “I have to get out of here.”
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Y/N took a few steps back, ready to escape.
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“I’m coming with you.” Wanda followed her steps but Y/N got in the way, shaking her head.
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“No.” She said quickly, noticing the disappointment in her girlfriend's eyes. And yet, despite that, Y/N decided to swallow hard and move on. “Stay with your family.”
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She couldn't deal with all of this right now, she needed to find some way to escape. “Just… stay.”
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Y/N walked away leaving the sokovian behind. Leaving the police station, not knowing where to go, she just started walking without a destination. Not knowing that that moment would be a terrible break in her life, and in the lives of those who loved her.
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NOW
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Lightning Crashes
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The hospital doors opened, letting in a desperate woman looking for answers. Her eyes showed the uncertainty and desolation she felt. The place was full of injured people, apparently there was a pretty serious accident nearby. Wanda came after her, trying to keep up.
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“Excuse me? Excuse me!” y/n approached the receptionist, who seemed to be quite busy with all the cases coming in.  “I’m looking for Julia Y/L/N. She works here, she's a doctor.”
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“Excuse me, right now I can't-” The receptionist muttered trying to help many people at once, Y/N was about to lose her mind when a familiar voice made them turn around.
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“Y/N? Come with me.” When she turned around, Y/N sighed, finally seeing a familiar face. Christine, one of Jules's coworkers in the hospital, took her arm and led them to another room.
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Y/N quickened the step, noticing the woman's hurry. “Christine, what's going on? They called me saying I should come-”
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“I know.” Christine stopped when they got out of the operating room.  Wanda frowned, this was not a delivery room. It was the damn operating room.  “We don’t have time so… Look, I shouldn't be telling you this, but I feel like I have to because she's my co-worker and a  good friend, and I owe her so much.”
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Christine swallowed hard, trying to be strong. In a job like this, she had often been the bearer of bad news but she had never had a case so close to her.
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“As you can see, there was a chain reaction crash, we have many injured.” The redhead took a cap and disposable scrub and handed it to her. “Jules and Natasha were there, a van crashed into their car when they were coming here because her water broke two hours ago.”
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Wanda covered her mouth, terrified. But full of innocence, Y/N nodded and looked around her. “Okay, where are they?”
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“Y/N…” Wanda reached out to take her hand.
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Christine cleared her throat, trying to be professional and not shed a tear. “Natasha... she died instantly.”
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Her face paled. Wanda just tried to sit in the nearest chair, feeling horrible dizziness.
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“What? No.” Shocked, it’s all Y/N could say. Tears filled her eyes. “No, that’s not possible. She's fine. She's going to be fine!”
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“I know you're in shock right now and it hurts, but I need you to pay attention to what I'm going to tell you.” Christine put a hand on her shoulder. “Julia is injured, a piece of metal went through her shoulder, and she needs you to be present at the birth.” She sighed. “She doesn't want general anesthesia, so... please put this on and come with me.”
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But Y/N just stood there, not knowing what to do. Her face pale, the ringing in the ears again.  “I- I don’t know how to do it.”
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“You're the only family she has right now. She needs you, she doesn't know that Natasha died.” Christine persisted, hoping Y/N would do it.  “She’s having the baby, you must give her strength to stay with us. Okay?”
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Wanda approached and hugged her for a moment, showing her that she was not alone.  “You can handle this, detka.”
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Y/N just nodded quickly, like an innocent child without understanding anything that was happening around her. She put on those clothes and entered the room with Christine.
Swallowing, Y/N blinked as the lights from the operating room blinded her for a second. Several doctors were around Jules, who was already in labor.
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“You're dilated enough now, this baby is coming right now.” One of the doctors said.
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“I know, I can fucking feel it!” Jules grunted and narrowed her eyes, the pain was too much. Sweat and tears poured down her face, a bit bruised, but nothing serious for now.
Seeing Jules like that, Y/N left that state of shock to walk towards her and take her hand.  “Hey, sis… are you ready to bring the little bee into this world?” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Jules smiled a bit exhausted, squeezing Y/N’s hand gently.  “Hey you… I'm ready to kill Strange when I get out of here.”
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“Now, push!”
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“Push, Jules.” Y/N looked at her and nodded, giving her all the strength she needed. Jules took a deep breath, then pushed hard, squeezing her sister's hand. The pain is exponentially intolerable.
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“Oh my god!”  She screamed.  Her jaw tensed as did every muscle in her body.  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
“It's going great, it's almost ready... Now it’s going to be harder, but we need it, okay? Push!”
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Y/N stayed by her side every moment, smiling, crying, saying the most beautiful words of support.
Felt her hand about to break many times but she didn't care, feeling the pain as an ally to endure the moment.
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“You’re so brave, you know? This is really beautiful, Jules.” Y/N smiled tenderly and whispered in her ear. “You're doing great, I'm so proud of you. You’re going to be such a good mom.”
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The raven-haired girl nodded and took a deep breath, knowing she had to push again, but before reason came to her.
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You're going to be such a good mom.
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“Y/N?” Eyes brimming with tears, Jules turned to look her in the eye. “Where's Natasha?”
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Y/N didn't know what to say, just swallowed and cradled Jules's hand in hers, she didn't know anything. No one told her anything so that her condition wouldn't worsen, but how could Y/N hide something like that from her sister?
The heartbreaking silence caught them again like a wild beast. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
“Y/N… Please tell me, where is Nat?” Jules pleaded with a shaky voice. This time, tears of sadness began to fall down her face.
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Y/N sniffled. “She… Natasha did not survive the crash. I'm sorry.”
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Jules brown eyes only expressed deep, heartbreaking sadness.
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“No… God, no… She can't be dead, I still feel her here.” Jules begged and placed a hand on her chest; they both began to cry together before the loss. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
The loss of a best friend and of a soulmate. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
“PUSH!” The doctor's requests became more and more insistent, they were the last pushes.
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In a scream of pure pain, physical and especially emotional, the woman screamed, pushing harder than ever. Screamed because of the helplessness she felt, she screamed because of the injustice, she screamed because of her broken heart.
A heart that was beating wildly.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “I'm here with you, okay? You will never be alone. I love you.” Y/N reminded her over and over again, closing her eyes and giving Jules all the support in the world in that last push.
And after that, a hopeful cry made them both look at the doctor, who soon handed the little baby over to the nurse. After wrapping it in a blanket, Christine walked over to show the baby to them.
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“It's a beautiful girl.” Christine said tenderly seeing how Jules smiled completely in love, excited, destroyed. That beautiful, reddish baby who moved her hands desperately seeking connection.
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“Look at her… You’re a mom now.” Y/N smiled and kissed her sister's forehead, watching her niece with enormous tenderness.  “Baby bumblebee is a girl, look at her.”
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“She’s beautiful… kinda looking like a red potato tho.”  Jules laughed and leaned down to kiss her little girl's forehead gently. Jules closed her brown eyes for a moment, holding the baby against her chest so she could say some last words to her. That was it, all she needed.
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In soft whispers, she said the most beautiful things and the most beautiful promises that Y/N could have heard. And Y/N knew at that moment that this baby would never suffer the same that she suffered with her own mother.
Looking at that tiny adorably newborn, who now had their hearts forever.
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“Y/N…” Jules barely whispered, feeling her muscles begin to lose strength. That was the sad cue to give the little one to Y/N to hold. “You have to take care of her…”
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“Sure I will. With you, with Wanda and Yelena... We will all do it together.” Y/N held the little girl in her arms and nodded. She didn't even know how to hold a baby, but she tried.  It was such a small thing in her hands, how was it possible?
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Jules swallowed and blinked rapidly, reaching out to take Y/N's arm. Her breathing seemed somewhat agitated, quite abnormal.  “Y/N, look at me, promise me you'll take care of her.”
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“I promise. I swear.” Y/N nodded, not quite understanding what it meant.
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Smiling sadly but lovingly, Jules raised her hand to caress her sister's face.  “You know I love you with all my heart, right? There’s no better person than you to do this… I'll be forever grateful.”
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“Do what? What are you talking about?” Y/N frowned.
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“Tell my little girl that we love her, okay? Always remind her of that. Her moms will always take care of her.” The woman sighed, her eyes closing but she fought with all her might to stay awake for a few more seconds. Please, God, just a few more seconds.
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Shaking her head, Y/N approached her sister.  “You will tell her, okay? Just stay awake.”
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A screeching beep made Y/N jump, the little girl in her arms began to cry.  ㅤㅤㅤ
“Jules, what's going on?” She tried to keep Jules awake, but the paleness on her face worried her even more. “CHRISTINE, WHAT’S WRONG?”
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“She's losing a lot of blood!” Christine hurried over so she could see what was happening. Sure enough, blood loss from childbirth was to blame.
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“I'm feeling a little tired.” Jules muttered tiredly.  “Remember you promised.”
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“Please, don’t… don’t do this.” Y/N took her hand and began to cry, begging her to stay by her side. “Please, she needs you. I need you… You are all I have left. You're the only family I have left!” Y/N pleaded, sobbing.
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“I love you, Y/N/N. I'll always be with you.” She smiled at her one last time, finally allowing herself to rest.
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Crying inconsolably, Y/N felt fear, anguish and desolation destroying her.
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“She’s coding!”
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One of the nurses came over to take the baby away, telling Y/N  that they should take her out now.
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“Where are they taking the baby? No, tell me! where is she going?” Y/N screamed in despair.
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Y/N put their hands to their head, completely overwhelmed by everything that is happening around her. The sounds, the screams, the crying.
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“No, no, no.” Y/N repeated over and over again, moving closer to Jules to try to wake her up, cup her face and talk to her.
One of the nurses reached out to pull Y/N away from her, but the woman struggled to hold on to her sister's body. It took three nurses to get her away from Jules, allowing them to start the defibrillator.
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“One, two.” Christine ordered before placing the paddles on Julia's chest. “One, two.”
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Y/N screamed inconsolably, seeing how they tried to save her sister's life but after several attempts, they only found that her heartbeat was no longer heard.
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“Come on, Julia! Stay with us!” Christine asked, trying many more times.
ㅤㅤㅤ But after a few minutes, they stopped. She was gone.
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“Fuck!” The doctor tossed the paddles aside, completely heartbroken.
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Lightning crashes, a new mother dies.
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But the one who was heartbroken was Y/N, watching her sister's body, taking slow steps towards her. But far from seeing that tender look, that adorable smile, she found just a pale and abandoned body.
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“Jules?”  Y/N whimpered like a little girl, reaching out to take her hand. “Jules, no, please. Don’t leave me, please.”
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She allowed herself to stay by Jules' side for a while, venting all her pain.
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“Time of death?”
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“04:30 AM”
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Feeling like it was all a huge sadistic joke on the fucking universe. Auntie Claire was gone, but she still had Jules. A beautiful part of her aunt had remained in her.
Now Jules was gone, and all that remained of her was this little girl.
Completely numb, she left that room with a lost look. What had to be done now? Where to go? Y/N walked slowly down the hall, until Wanda finally saw her.
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“Detka? What is it?” The sokovian asked desperately. Those red eyes showed that she had been crying for a long time over the loss of Natasha. “Is Jules okay? Are they both okay?”
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Still looking blank, Y/N murmured: “She died.”
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“What? No!” Wanda shook her head, she couldn't believe all this.
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“She died after giving birth.” Y/N swallowed. “I'm so sorry.”
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“Oh my god.” Wanda burst into tears, holding on to the wall for a moment. “a-and the baby?”
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“It’s a girl. She’s at the baby nursery now.” Finally coming out of her shock at seeing Wanda suffer like that, she went over to hug her. So tightly, allowing both of them to cry together.  “What the hell is going on?”
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The hours passed, Y/N looked down, seeing her black coffee that she was holding in her hands. Wanda was on the phone with Yelena and Natasha's parents to explain the situation to them. Of course it was one of the most difficult moments of her life.
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“They’re going to fly from Ohio, going to the airport now.”  Wanda sighed, walking over and putting her phone in her pocket. “Yelena was really pissed off, but I heard that Alexei was devastated. Melina too.”
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Gently, she took her girlfriend's arm and rested her head on Y/N’s shoulder.
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“I'm sorry you have to go through all this.” Y/N murmured, drinking that coffee that didn't even seem to save her this time.
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“You don't have to be sorry, they were my friends too. Our friends, our sisters.” Wanda sighed. “I love you, and I will always be by your side. I'll support you in everything.”
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Y/N tilted her head to see Wanda and confirmed once more that this woman was the love of her life. That she had always been by her side, and she always would be.
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“It's all so unfair, you know? How is it possible?” Y/N swallowed hard so she wouldn't sob again. “How is it possible that we survived so much to end up like this?! Is this karma for what we did?”
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“No, detka. Of course not.” Wanda cooed, hugging her.
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A few minutes later, one of the nurses came out of the door and invited them inside. After agreeing to sign some papers and follow some steps, they approached the nursery ward, looking through that huge window at the adorable babies in their cribs.
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Y/N looked for the little girl somewhat worried, what if she wasn't there? Fear washed over her until she was finally able to recognize her, not far from them.
Wanda smiled as soon as she saw her.
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“She’s a beautiful baby.” The nurse smiled, showing them the test results. Everything was okay, the baby girl was healthy. “What's the little girl's name?”
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That question clearly affected Y/N deeply, she justtried not to get emotional again. Those eyes were tired from crying.
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“They wanted to keep it as a surprise.” Wanda answered for her girlfriend, squeezing her arm in support.  “They didn't get to tell us.”
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The nurse nodded sadly and was about to leave until Y/N spoke.
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“Natalia.” Y/N whispered. “Because… because their names were  Natasha and Julia… and… i-if you mix the names… I think Natalia sums it up pretty well.”
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The nurse nodded, wrote down that name so she could put it on the bracelet that the baby would wear for the rest of the night. Natalia Romanoff Y/L/N.
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“Is it stupid?” Y/N whispered to Wanda, who just shook her head. “Do you think they would like it?”
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“It’s a beautiful name, detka.” The brunette kissed her cheek. “Do you know what it means?”
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Y/N just shook her head, trying not to pout.
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“It means ‘natale domini’, christmas day. A sweet name like Natalia will always remind her how loved she is, they'll love it.” Wanda hugged Y/N's, both watching that adorable baby. The nurse took Natalia in her arms and brought her closer so they could see her.
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Oh, she was adorable even yawning.
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“I don't know how to do this.” Y/N confessed quietly, completely terrified but ready to face that huge monster called fear.
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And by her side, Y/N had the most important woman in the world. Wanda looked at her with those green eyes full of love, swearing her loyalty forever. “I will help you, detka, everything will be fine. You can do this.”
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Desperate and tired, Y/N moved from one side to the other holding that baby of barely eight weeks. She spent nights without being able to sleep well, completely in despair.
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“Please, Natalia. Stop crying.” Y/N begged, squeezing her eyes shut to keep from exploding. Little Natalia had been crying for a long time and nothing seemed to calm her down. Y/N was holding a bottle with the infant formula that the doctor recommended.
Y/N gently left the baby in the crib next to her favorite bear, but nothing happened. Natalia kept screaming even more, as if she was daring her lungs to explode.
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“You don't want to eat, your diaper is clean! What the hell do you want?!” Y/N yelled so tiredly, but after a few seconds she started crying next to the baby. “What do you want from me?! I miss and need them too!” Y/N sobbed.They both shared that moment of pain.
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Auntie Claire was gone. Jules was gone. Natasha was gone.
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Now there was only that little baby left, that adorable little thing next to her and it wasn’t her fault for coming into a desolate world.
She was all Y/N had left of the people she loved the most. How not to be patient with that little bee? It wasn't her fault, and it wasn't Y/N's either.
She allowed herself to cry for a moment and then wiped away her tears, taking Natalia in her arms again. “Now it's just the two of us, okay? They screwed us like that, we have to deal with it.”
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Y/N sighed.
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“Okay, let’s try something new…” Y/N walked to the window, looking around with the baby in her arms. She got a nice apartment some months ago. “Your grandma Claire used to sing this… she was such a fan, and your mama loved it too.”
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“I hear your voice. It's like an angel sighin'. I have no choice, I hear your voice… feels like flying. I close my eyes, Oh God, I think I'm fallin'...” She sang softly, like a lullaby. “Like a child, you whisper softly to me. You're in control, just like a child now I'm dancing.” 
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Incredibly, the little girl began to calm down little by little. That heartbreaking cry now turned into A curious look, those little hands trying to catch Y/N's face.
Y/N smiled seeing this great progress, encouraging herself to move a little like a little dance. “It's like a dream… No end and no beginning. You're here with me, Natalia, it's like a dream… cause when you call my name, it's like a little prayer.”
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“Life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone. I hear you call my name and it feels like home.” Natalia moved her hands excitedly, watching every movement of Y/N's lips, even gurgling.
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“That’s it. You liked it, didn't you?” Finally achieving the first bond with the baby, Y/N let out a small laugh of happiness between tears. “I love you, Natalia… I will take care of you forever, even if I have to give my life for you.”
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She kissed Nat’s forehead and continued rocking her for a while, noticing that now the girl was no longer trying to let go. She just relaxed in those soft arms, beginning to fall asleep until someone knocked on the door.
Y/N walked towards the door, meeting a worried Wanda on the other side.
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“I read your message, I came as soon as the twins left with Vision.” The brunette approached to kiss her then watched little Nat gurgling.  “Everything's okay? What is it?”
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“That’s from the past, now we are at peace.” Y/N smiled and took the bottle to see if Natalia wanted to try it. After a few seconds, the little girl accepted.  “She was crying and I didn't understand what she wanted.”
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“I'm proud, Y/N.” Wanda smiled tenderly. She took off her jacket and walked Y/N to her bedroom.
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“Can you stay with me?” Y/N begged with cute eyes and an adorable pout. “With us?”
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Biting her lower lip, watching the love of her life rocking that baby slowly, Wanda just nodded, feeling a strange sensation of familiarity and peace inside her.  “Of course, my love.”
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Fifteen minutes later, they were both lying on the bed, watching as Natalia drank her bottle happily cuddling between them. ㅤㅤㅤ
"We've been waiting for you, now you are here. More perfect than I imagined, our house is now a nest. No matter where you go, sunlight shines on you.’
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Surprising Y/N with her beautiful voice, Wanda smiled seeing that Natalia closed her cute eyes and relaxed with that lullaby, letting go of the bottle.
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“That was beautiful.” Y/N whispered, lost in the beauty of her beloved.ㅤㅤ Wanda smiled tenderly. “You are.”
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Wanda gently leaned in to give her a short kiss, trying not to disturb the little girl.
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“So… How about we get a boat?” Y/N joked. Vision deposited the money into her bank account the day before, so everything was fine between them for now.  “Mmm… no… College fund, right?”
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Wanda bit her lips, trying not to laugh.  “Yes, college fund… And pay our bills.”
ㅤㅤㅤ “And put a down payment on a boat.” Y/N teased again, settling between the huge pillows. Wanda did the same, taking Y/N’s hand.
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“We’re not getting a boat.” The sokovian whispered, closing her eyes a bit tired.
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“But they're fun.”
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“They're expensive.”
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“You’re right.” Y/N grimaced and closed her eyes as well, feeling the exhaustion in her body overcome her little by little. 
ㅤㅤㅤ
“College fund, pay our bills and some nice vacation on a beach.” Wanda smiled tenderly when she saw how Natalia was completely sleepy.  “There's gotta be some fun in our lives.”
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“I like that.” Y/N smiled sleepily. “I love you…”
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Watching that adorable moment in front of her, Wanda knew that the answer to the question she was asking herself for a long time had already been answered.
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“I love you too, detka.”
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But maybe it was time to go further. And although Y/N didn't know it, Wanda was ready to offer her to move in together. Why not?
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“Okay, Natalia. Hold on tight.” Y/N said to the little girl as she adjusted the baby carrier on her chest. Little Natalia smiled tenderly and moved her little legs excited for her.  “We're going on our first adventure.”
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When little Natalia turned five months old, Wanda and Y/N found a nice place to live together. Of course the twins were delighted with the idea, because having a little sister for them was something really important.
Wanda explained to them the importance of taking care of Natalia and making her their family. But the twins didn't need explanations, they loved the little redhead already.
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And slowly, Y/N learned to be a responsible parent.
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She learned that loss didn’t mean having to destroy everything around her, and making Wanda happy and giving Natalia a better life was all she wanted.
Y/N learned how to deal with diapers as well as crying at night, or also with paranoia and fear of losing the little girl.
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Sometimes she stayed watching her for a long time, thinking about how much she resembled to them. Natalia hated being around too many people and cheeky like Natasha, but she also was so warm like Jules.
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“Do you think she will like it?” Y/N asked the twins with some concern, showing them a small velvet box. A beautiful ring was waiting to be delivered to Wanda that night.
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Little Natalia observed the ring with curiosity wanting to grab it so badly, with just a year she didn’t understand anything they said, but she could say things like: ‘Mamma' and 'mommy’.
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“She will love it!” Billy grinned and Tommy nodded. They were both quite excited, and that made Y/N's heart beat faster. The twins have always been a great support.
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Nodding, Y/N knew she had to take the biggest and most important step of her life.
And she did it, because the wedding was the most beautiful moment of their lives.
Wanda's tears of happiness and Y/N's huge happy smile showed it in the pictures. ㅤㅤㅤ
And of course she missed Natasha and Jules a lot, but Y/N knew that wherever they were, they would be happy for them.
Y/N and Yelena formed a much stronger bond, completely unconditional in the absence of their sisters. Both were clear that the important thing was also to give Natalia a beautiful family.
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EIGHT YEARS LATER
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“Natalia, your aunt Yelena is here!” Y/N's voice made the adorable redhead startle and leave her room, but not before grabbing her backpack.
Y/N and the blonde walked to the kitchen, where Wanda was baking some cookies.
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“You better take care of her.” Y/N pointed at the blonde and sat down at the table to enjoy some cocoa and cookies. “If you're going to take her fishing in Alexei’s boat, don't let her fall. She's learning to swim.”
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“She will master it soon.” Yelena arched an amused brow and stole one of the cookies, taking a bite. Of course, Y/N's serious look made her add,  “I'm just kidding with you, Y/N Y/L/N. We'll just visit my parents and fish in the boat for a little while. Talk about stuff… that’s it.”
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“We know.” Y/N kissed Yelena’s cheek, just to annoy her even more. “I just like to annoy you.”
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“Ugh.” The blonde teased, wiping her cheek.
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“Here's something to eat, in case you don’t wanna buy something.”  Wanda smiled when she saw them and took two lunch boxes and a box of fresh cookies.   “Chicken paprikash, mac and cheese, your favorite I know, and cookies.”
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“Wanda Maximoff, you are a sweetheart.” Yelena sighed exaggeratedly and leaned in to kiss her cheek, this time trying to annoy Y/N.
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Y/N just giggled and tossed her a small chocolate chip.
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“Okay, it's time. I'll call you as soon as we get there, okay?” Yelena said goodbye to both and walked towards the door.  “Let’s go, Natalia!”
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“Coming!”  An adorable eight-year-old girl ran down the stairs. She was a redhead, like Natasha and her eyes were light brown like Jules. Natalia was fierce, kinda sarcastic and brave, but also adorable, smart and kind.
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The little girl approached Y/N, hugging her mother tight. “I’ll miss you, mom.”
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Smiling tenderly -and fighting not to turn into an overprotective bear- Y/N hugged her daughter for a moment. “Take good care of your aunt, okay? She’s crazy. Send some hugs to mama Melina and Alexei. Tell them we miss them.”
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“Yes, mom!” Natalia smiled toothly. “I'm going with Auntie Yelena, I love you both!”
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The little girl kissed Y/N's cheek and then ran to hug Wanda's waist, who kissed the little girl's forehead.  “Be careful, okay? We love you, baby.”
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“Yes, mama!”
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“Take care, kiddo!” Y/N got up to see how the girl ran towards the porch, meeting the blonde one. “Don't forget to call us, okay?”
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Y/N remained watching the place, until Wanda hugged her from behind, snuggling up against her.
There was her little girl, ready to start a new adventure.
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It didn't take long for them to decide to have another baby together. Wanda tried an IUI to become mothers and after one attempt, they miraculously managed to conceive a beautiful and healthy baby.
Y/N was quite nervous, fear and memories of her sister in the hospital haunted her, but little by little, Wanda made her understand that everything would be okay.
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Nine months later, they both welcomed an adorable baby girl they named Luna Maximoff-Y/L/N.
The children were delighted, even though Natalia felt a bit insecure, when the tiny redhead saw her new sister she swore to take care of her forever. Forming an inseparable bond.
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Smiling, seeing how Wanda held her little newborn daughter, singing a tender sokovian lullaby, Y/N knew that although life was sometimes hard, it also had happy and memorable moments.
This was more than a happy place. This was a family.
And she deserved it.
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And time passed, year after year, full of happiness.
Of course there were some complex moments, not everything in life is happy moments but always, there were always more beautiful than ugly moments in the lives of those women.
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Wanda and Y/N had a beautiful marriage for almost forty years. They saw their twins grow up and become good, kind and respectful men.
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Natalia became an incredible, respectable, successful and loving woman. Of course she was a little rebellious at times like Natasha, but she also had responsible moments like Jules. She met an adorable girl on a trip and fell madly in love.
Wanda and Y/N always reminded her that Nat and Jules were her real mothers and they always came to the cemetery to leave some flowers.
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Luna was an adorable girl, she was like Wanda. Even with her brown hair and beautiful green eyes, Y/N told Luna that she was her little 'firecracker' because she had her adventurous spirit.
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Y/N lived the most beautiful years to the fullest, even when Wanda passed away two years before her, Y/N knew that together they had lived a beautiful life. And death, like loss, no longer affected her the same way.
That night, Y/N passed away sleeping and letting herself fall asleep, leaving in absolute peace.
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Opening her eyes slowly, Y/N felt like someone was poking her over and over again inviting her to wake up. “Hey, you.”
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A male voice made her eyes widen.  “Wake up, lazy ass!”
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Y/N got up quickly from the ground, looking moved at the boy in front of her. Pietro looked exactly as he was before the plane accident; his wild hair, those green eyes sparkled.
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“Finally!” He smiled. She looked around her, it was a nice quiet place, like a warm spring afternoon. Though she had no idea where she was.
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Without waiting any longer, Y/N hugged him tightly, closing her eyes. Saying over and over again how sorry she was, and how much she owed him. How thankful she was.
Year after year, the guilt over Pietro's death washed over her and she was finally letting it go.
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“Everything is okay, captain, all that is behind us.”  Pietro hugged the girl and smiled tenderly.
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“Well, I'm getting a bit jealous over here, and you?”
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“A bit, yes.” This time it was Natasha, giving Jules a little nudge at her side. They looked exactly as she remembered them, so beautiful. 
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“Nat?” With tears in her eyes, Y/N wasted no time in running to them and hugging them. “Jules!”
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“What? Did you think you'd never see us again?” Jules teased, hugging her tightly. “Thank you for everything you did for our little girl.”
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“We are proud to see the woman she has become thanks to you and Wanda.” Natasha smiled and ruffled Y/N's hair.
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“That little girl stole my heart from the first moment, I'm glad you are happy.” Y/N sniffled.
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“We are really happy.”
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“I'm sorry you couldn't have-” Y/N tried to say but her friends just shook their heads.
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“We were always there with you.” Jules smiled and put her hand on Y/N’s shoulder.
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Closing her eyes for a second, Y/N got lost in that touch that felt so real to her. Wasn't she dreaming?
Suddenly her eyes widened, looking around her with excitement. “Wanda… where is she?”
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Natasha smiled. “First you must be sure of what you will choose.”
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Y/N frowned.  “What do you mean?”
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“Do you want to stay or do you want to come with us?” This time Jules spoke, all of them began to walk down that path between the trees.
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“You must leave all longing behind, you must first accept it.” Pietro nodded.  Of course he was referring to her family, who were still alive.
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Y/N thought for a moment. Her children would be fine, they were old enough to move on their own. It was her time to move on too.
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“They'll be fine.”
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With a smile, the three looked at each other and then stepped aside.
Behind them, Wanda was looking at her with a huge smile and a hopeful look.
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“Detka!”
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Without further ado, they hugged each other again, stronger than ever. Their souls finally found each other, entwining once more. “Wands… I missed you, so bad.”
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Y/N kissed her lips over and over again, desperate for having missed her so much.
Wanda smiled between kisses.  “I missed you too.”
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They held each other for a moment until Y/N felt how they were surrounded. Not only her friends, but also other people.
One of them made her let go of Wanda’s arms. Y/N felt that the time -if it existed there- stopped completely.
It had been a long time since she saw that girl.
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“Hey.” Sharon waved, smirking slightly. Sharon, Helen, Carol, Kate and all the girls who died in that place were around her. This time not like a horrible and haunting nightmare, no. This time it was a welcome.
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Y/N blinked and waking up from the reverie, she violently approached her to stop in front of Sharon. She did nothing but feel her tears fall.   “I'm sorry about everything. I didn't mean it to end like that, I'm so sorry. I spent all these years thinking about that, I didn't want you to die. I'm so sorry, Sharon.”
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She finally cried, letting go of the guilt. Y/N carried Sharon's death for a long time.
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“Can you forgive me?” Y/N asked Sharon, taking her hand, but the blonde squeezed her hand as a clear answer.
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“Only if you can forgive us too.” Sharon nodded and just hugged her. “I never hated you, we were young and stupid. We made a lot of mistakes in a place that wasn't for us, but all that is behind us. This place is to rest... all those pains left behind.”
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All of them hugged Y/N tightly, welcoming her to a whole new place. Where pain, revenge, violence was left behind.
One by one the whole team approached to join that hug. Like the first time, like that first time after winning the match. If only that plane accident hadn't happened, oh that team would have been unstoppable.
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BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!
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They all cheered, happy, free.
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“Okay, move on from here.” Yelena growled. “We must move on, I'm sick of seeing you all even in the fucking heaven.”
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Y/N turned to look at her, confused. “This is heaven?”
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“Yeah, we don’t know? It's more like… a place made up of many heavens? Individual ones? Each of us can rest and lose ourselves in the moments we decide to remember.” Wanda explained, narrowing her eyes, some of the girls nodded. “We don’t need to understand, just… be here. Unless you are a very evil person, we don't know what happens there.” ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ
“But if you're not evil... everyone gets a piece of paradise.” Jules smiled widely.
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“We can visit others, but only soulmates can share the same place.” Natasha kissed her wife's cheek, hugging her.
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 “Ready to meet ours?” Wanda smiled and took the hand of the love of her life.
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Y/N inhaled deeply and then nodded. Finally smiling, ready to rest. “Yeah.”
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Yup, this is the end. 🐝 I hope I didn't disappoint you. And it was good for you. I know it has not much to do with the tv show -more than the plane crash and some stuff- and I'm happy with that. Maybe there are some one shots later, explaining some moments. Pietro's death and everything...   So, thank you very much for reading me, it is always a delight to know that you are here with me. 🐝
the cutest and lovely BEES tags ✨ @kaiidth-wandika @yourfavunsub @pawiie @fanboy7794 @sunsol-22 @scarlettbitchx @arcturusseer @imnotasuperhero @chtte @lesbians-in-outer-space @starry-night17 @cristin-rjd @kenlymar @chtte @marvelogic @druggedduck @aliherreraaa @widowwaddles @gingiesworld @canyonyodeler smromanoff @romanoffomixam✨
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Text
In Defense of Marinette
I like Marinette. While there are many valid criticisms of her writing, the same can be said for literally every other character and she's actually doing pretty well given that she's the main character. After all, in a show where consistent characterization is an ongoing issue, the one with the most screen time will probably be the one who's the biggest victim of the issue.
This is heavily exacerbated by the rule that supposedly governs Miraculous. Namely that, in each story, Marinette must make a mistake. Or, at least, so says the head writer:
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I really do not care what this guy says on Twitter or anywhere else. I only care about what's in the show because, if you have to go outside the text to understand the text, then you have no idea how to tell a good story.
However, unlike many of the tweets that I've seen, this one isn't some BS bit of lore. It's a writing rule and it has substantial backing in the text. It's extremely rare to have an episode where Marinette comes out smelling like roses and that's a problem because Miraculous has over 100 episodes. In other words, to follow this rule, the writers have to come up with over 100 ways for Marinette to be wrong so of course she's going to come across poorly. Why would you do this to your main character?
It's extremely common for kids shows to have a "lesson of the day" element to them. Someone always needs to learn something, but I've never seen a show misunderstand the assignment so badly. Learning a lesson is not the same as doing something wrong.
It's been a while since I watched the 2010 version of My Little Pony, but it really leaned into that whole "lesson of the day" thing and it actually knew what it was doing, so I'm going to talk about it briefly to discuss things that Miraculous should have done.
The first thing to note is that MLP had an unambiguous main character - Twilight Sparkle - but Twilight was not the one who learned all of the lessons. She had a pet dragon and a crew of five friends who would, occasionally, be the ones to learn the lesson because there were lots of lessons that simply didn't fit Twilight's character. Instead of warping Twilight to make the idea work (cough cough Ikari Gozen cough), the writers just let someone else have the spotlight for a bit.
This is an excellent way to build out your cast and Miraculous had plenty of opportunities to do it. For example, Lila should not have been Marinette's issue. The fact that Lila hates Marinette could have certainly stuck around, but the one who takes her down and learns to investigate her sources? That should have been Alya. A liar is the perfect enemy for an investigative journalist, but a poor enemy for someone who shines as a battlefield commander and overthinks when she's given too much time.
Another way that MLP would teach lessons was to have someone other than Twilight or the main crew cause the issue that they then had to deal with. This leads to one of the best moments in children's television:
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And, frankly? Marinette deserves a moment like this. That poor girl has been through hell and is never allowed to make the right call when it really matters. The show will even completely rewrite its lore to make her fail (see: Strike Back). That is such an awful thing to do to your lead! Shows about female empowerment should include women feeling powerful and, no, Lila and Chloe don't count!
Also, the show is literally about Gabriel taking advantage of people who are upset. You don't need to have Marinette make a mistake to shoehorn in a life lesson. Akumas are life lesson fodder and season 1 actually seemed to get this. I'm not sure why they switched gears to "Marinette is the star and, therefore, must always be wrong."
The final way that MLP taught lessons was to have Twilight do something wrong because having your main character do something wrong is a totally valid way to teach lessons. It just shouldn't be your only way because you know who is always wrong in children's media?
Villains.
They wrote Marinette like a villain.
And a large part of the fandom hates her for it because of course they do.
You're not supposed to like villains.
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pinkslashersimp · 10 months
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Hello! May I request headcanons for NBC’s Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham with a Venom!fem!reader? The reader has a symbiote like her fellow investigative journalist Eddie Brock, but has not told her partners about her ‘little friend’ or that she eats really, very bad people until another symbiote, Carnage, shows up and attacks them on a night around the town or when they are all about to have dinner in Hannibal’s home? Thank you so much!
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╰┈➤ Note: Hello!!! sorry this took so long, I’m volunteering (childcare practitioner) and I work as a chef on the weekend so my spare time is almost none existent 😭 this is my first time writing for someone with powers(???) - which i may start doing in the future bc my Marvel interest has peaked 👀 - so pls forgive me if this isn’t the best or is a little sloppy T-T
✎ Synopsis: You and Eddie both share a dark secret, which Hannibal and Will both suspect may be cannibalism. But when an enemy attacks, how will your work partners react to your true self?
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Of course you’d kept it secret, had you told anyone, let alone Hannibal, about your or Eddies “little secret” it’s no doubt you both would’ve been institutionalised immediately.
You were very, very, sneaky about who you ate and where. Picking off rude people you saw in the store, men who are too crude to women, or following drivers who drive like dicks off the road to devour. People nobody would necessarily miss too much. They were never reported as murders, either, just missing.
Since you and Eddie are investigative journalists you would be assigned to these cases with the aid of Hannibal, but would quickly drop them, as there is “insufficient evidence” and it “simply could be anyone”
Hannibal believes you’re both lazy at first, dismissing cases, until he realises there’s a common theme going on between you both. People go missing in the same area, you’re both assigned to the case with his help, and suddenly the case is dropped with you both acting suspicious.
He, of course, does not think you’re symbiote. Just a classic cannibal murderer.
Will has his suspicions too, but instead of believing you’re cannibal murderers he simply believes perhaps you both know something about the missing people that you aren’t saying for whatever reason.
It displeases them both greatly.
Hannibal and Will both agree that the best course of action would be to host a dinner party at Hannibal’s home, to gain trust and open a discussion about the missing people.
And to potentially see if you recognise the taste of human meat…
You and Eddie both turn up to the party, in your smartest attire, ignoring the very sarcastic comments the symbiotes make as you both get ready.
When you are both seated, Hannibal and Will share glances with one another
You and Eddie share a glance too, after tasting the meat, silently confirming exactly what you have both just put in your mouthes. And Hannibal catches onto this.
He glances over at Will again, and before he can say anything a loud crash comes from the back of the dining room, as the window shatters upon impact when a giant, red symbiote with rage in its eyes crashes in
“What the FUCK-!?” Will shouts, pulling out his gun and firing into it as much as he can.
Hannibal stands and quickly moves away from it, as it snarls and takes every bullet from Wills gun. It turns to both you and Eddie as Venom emerges from you both, emerging from your skin like a sick, black, sweat.
Hannibal and Will both stand back in the doorway, watching in confused horror as the three of you fight it out in their dining room, you and Eddie quickly overpower carnage and he turns on his tail and runs out into the night, howling about coming back.
You both turn back and check on each other, before turning to your horrified friends in the corner.
“what the fuck was that…” Will asks, his gun pointed at the both of you, whilst Hannibal desperately tries to process what just happened.
Looks like you’ve both got too much explaining to do.
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