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xo-cuteplosion-xo · 8 months

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Eeeeee I never know if my rambles are any good but here is me doing a sort of study into Dazai and Ranpo kinda analyzing their intelligence.

Could it be completely wrong... yeah... is it a bit of a personal take... kinda... did I kinda do some research? I did actually but surface level.

It's 1,667 words : )

Confidence to post this from my moot @pompompurin1028

Character studies:

Dazai and Ranpo

Dazai and Ranpo are both incredibly interesting characters. In more than one way they remind me of one another. The two are both highly intelligent and it's hard to say which would outsmart the other considering their intelligence differences.

Dazai is shown to be more of a mastermind. His intelligence is specific and direct. He bases predictions on the observations of people and the natural order of how a person operates. It's almost philosophical in a way. There's this certain disconnect to the world.

While on the other hand, Ranpo shares a similar disconnect but in a very different manner. Ranpo's definite is being able to observe and connect quickly. Hexs somebody who is hyper-observant and his brain processes information quickly and efficiently. He can "see through" people because he observes the smallest details most wouldn't notice. He can't actually do anything without evidence. We see his downfall with the perfect crime. However, through observing outside information from the crowd to things he noticed and looked around he was still able to find the murderer. Be it he did this a bit slower than he is used to he solved something that nobody else in this universe would have been able to solve.

It's arguable that perhaps Dazai may have been able to but I'd say because Dazai is oriented towards predictability and problem-solving he wouldn't have been able to find the perpetrator. Dazai would have observed that something was wrong, it was too perfect. There was a lack of evidence. Yes, you can create a perfect crime but Dazai most likely would have found something up with the scenario and looked for an ability that would have caused this.

My basis for why this sort of scenario would take Dazai longer is purely in the way we have seen him act. When it came to seeing Ranpo work he was rather impressed and admits to admiring him. It's not direct but the panel says "why ranpo is admonished by the agency." If Dazai didn't also think he was impressive then these words would have had a different spacing or flow and different words completely. I genuinely think Dazai in a way sees his flaws as being backed up by Ranpo.

Both are incredibly intelligent and have been such since they were small children.

The only difference is their environment.

The environment a child grows in and learns has a large impact on the development of their intellectual capabilities.

I don't think the Dazai we see today is the same type of smart as the Dazai we see in 15.

(Welcome to Lu losing their academic sources : (... oops )

I read in some studies that a child with an above-average IQ that is nurtured and has positive influences even when faced with trauma will develop an outlook that allows them to slip better into society and feel less estranged from others. Ranpo is a fine example of this. He suffered a great trauma with the loss of his parents but because of Fukuzawa, he was raised in those important teen years by somebody who nurtured and gave him hope allowing him to "fit in" his intelligence was forced in front of him and flaunted. That seemed to be avoided by Fukuzawa. He didn't want the child to grow up thinking he was too different and to put himself at risk because numbers said he'd be fine. This is shown when he gets so upset at Ranpo for putting his life on the line to solve a case. Ranpo is shown that intelligence isn't everything he's just like everybody else a life worth existing. He learned that lives should never be risked for the sake of a successful plan there will always be a route around. He became egotistical and motivated by praise but he values the lives of others and grew compassionate.

On the other end of this spectrum is a child whose intelligence is shoved in their face. It's the only trait that is ever acknowledged and they are even punished when that single aspect is not up to performing In other words an environment where the child is scolded and only ever acknowledged for intelligence in an abusive situation is commonly going to befall a bath of separation from others or will dehumanizing themselves. Dazai is a prime example of a child's intelligence being incorrectly handled. We don't know how things were for him before mori but some of the most crucial years of a child's life are those teen years. As intelligent as he was at the time, an adult influence still would have made a huge impact, and whether it's something that is solid or not Mori's role in his life was the most prominent adult presence. From the age of 14 to 18 Mori's abusive treatment of Dazai would have shaped his intelligence to look past morals and "basic human ideology" and see simply the open board. I like that it's often shown as Dazai making moves in chess because it's a very good example. Chess is a game of sacrifice and risk. This type of raw intelligence isn't a natural talent. You can be born with a high IQ but the shape of that IQ is nurtured. Dazai had to be cunning, risky, and sacrificial in the Mafia. It's not a place where he could place value on life. It's highly likely his situation pre-mafia wasn't any better. He already felt separated from humanity Mori's "care" only made things worse for a kind already starting to separate himself from others. If Dazai had been in a situation similar to Ranpo's he would likely have seen his intelligence lean closer to Ranpo's observational intelligence.

I also like to look at the two of them, now versus then.

We see a huge change with Ranpo. He doesn't take huge risks like sacrificing people on purpose. He tries to solve things without doing harm. When. He shakes the agency shakes. They rely on him because he's empathetic and understanding though he doesn't make it obvious.

Dazai is less obvious but if we look at 15 dazai and the current dazai there's a definite difference between the two of them. 15 Dazai was still exploring his capabilities. Planning and acting was still somewhat new having only just truly gotten into the mafia. We see him predict things and notice things but his details and explanations are mainly observational habits. We don't see him purposefully putting him or Chuuya into severe life-threatening danger the way we see him act in Storm Bringer. He doesn't sacrifice "pieces" then in Dark Era we see a severe drop in his attitude toward others. Even somebody he is close to is put to the test and toyed with in a way. We see him more organized and far more willing to sacrifice others for his goals than we noticed in 15. Then there is the ADA Dazai. There's manipulation of feelings but he's never put others in a place where the risk was overly dramatic. Kyouka was a gamble but it can be inferred that it was indeed the only way to save her from either execution or being killed in action. Even in Dead Apple, his gamble did put others at risk but he didn't purposefully try and kill any of his coworkers or pieces. I believe it's a fair assumption that none of them were in real grave danger. Dazai in prison however can be seen as almost slipping back. I believe the influence on Dazai with his surroundings is more important than anything else with him. Around Fyodor we see the light in his eyes drain. BSD really likes paying close attention to the eyes in the manga It tells us a lot about a character. Dazai's emptier looks usually reflect when he's around remnants of his past or he's acting similar to how he would have in the mafia. It's not a complete slip but he takes gambles that could get others killed. We don't know of it was his intentions are with a lot of his "moves" but what little we can infer from panels and expressions it's clear Dazai has less regard for human life and the only reason he doesn't do things the way he did is because of his promise to Oda. Oda was the first positive influence he had as a child. Around oda Dazai's intelligence was observational rather than performing in an analytical way. He wasn't taking knowing the situation and doing background research to figure out he'd lose his friends. No, he analyzed Ango's small details. He recognized things without any sacrifices and came to the conclusion that things wouldn't stay like this because of a pattern of events in his life not the rules of the world. He subjected himself to personal feelings and thoughts rather than the logical straightforward approach. This part could be argued but I truly think Dazai's thought process altered around Ango and Oda then around the agency he began to see a bit more of why protecting people was better than sacrificing them.

I believe Dazai and Ranpo have equal intelligence they just have separate types of intellectual capability because of their differentiating upbringings. I want to look more into how they contrast and yet complete each other's weaker areas eventually but at the moment this is all I have written out and all the journals I've read so far. I have a feeling that Ranpo is sorta that white knight of intelligence while Dazai is the dark knight of intelligence. They are equal and yet completely different and yet both are just as important to the overall "game". I could also probably go more into detail about how Dazai's upbringing with his intellect only created a worse issue of separation between himself and those around him. It's a concept I'm still building on but I think Dazai and Ranpo complement each other in a parallel kind of way.

#dazai #ranpo #dazai study #ranpo study #i have a few of these but im ao inaecure im wrong avout them #this is a test Ig #lu rambles 🎀#bsd #bungo stray dogs #Their differences and simulates really do interest me.#not proof read sorry about typos

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kae-karo · 2 years

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Writing behind-the-scenes: 1, 3, 4, 13, and 15? You write so much quality fic, it's got me really interested in your process for pumping all that out so fast haha.

aewin !!!!! hi hello thank u dear 😭😭🥺🥺🙏🙏 u are so sweet???? for context (x)

1. What was the first fandom and/or pairing that you wrote fic for?

i was a slutty lil dan and phil fan lmao. which i say with truly the most love and affection - i am very genuinely grateful for my time in what i would consider a very wholesome, supportive, and tight-knit community cause i think it really gave me the confidence and encouragement to keep writing and trying out new things (lmao)

3. Do you write fics from start or finish, or jump around?

mmm although i will put some dialogue or thought snippets into my discord for later use, i really genuinely cannot jump around while writing? and that's partly the fault of my characters, sometimes they just go off and do smth totally unexpected and i have to follow that train even if it goes off the rails lmao

4. Do you outline before you start writing? If so, how far do you stray from that outline?

lksdfjkl yeah this kinda goes along with the last one - i really cannot outline sdlkfjklsdf and there's a couple things that go into that? first is, ofc, characters do not like to do what i say lmao

which, i feel like i see this said a lot but without any explanation behind it for people who may not write/who might not get what this means? for me at least, it's not so much that characters 'have a mind of their own' exactly, it's more that once i get into the story, there might be decisions or actions or dialogue that comes up as i'm going and feels very natural to the characters/circumstances that it would feel forced or inorganic to ignore or to steer in a different direction. and sometimes, it leads the plot or characters in a direction i hadn't really thought about from an outside ("planning", i say very vaguely) perspective?

so there's that component lmao which often renders a lot of outlining or planning moot. but the other piece is that i suffer from 'end of the story' syndrome which i have just invented right now but basically, if i know how a story ends, i sorta...feel done? with it? and it's not so much like 'i know they get together at the end so i'm done' but more like. if i have a more solid concept of the specifics of the ending (events, dialogue, etc), my brain likes to tell me that i'm finished with the story - even when i'm only partway through, or close to the end lmao. so planning smth from the start (in what i'd typically consider an outline) tends to deter me from actually working on the story lmao

but! i do usually have some sense of direction at least, just a matter of how exactly i get there - ends like 'they get together' or 'this problem is resolved by this action/choice' or smth are usually vague enough to keep me motivated to see how exactly it plays out in the end lmao

13. Is there a trope you wouldn’t write if it was the last trope on earth?

uhhhhhh,,,,,,,,are there any that i detest that much? tbh i think i could be convinced to try writing anything once lmao. i think there are probably kinks i'd never write just cause i think i'd fail to emulate the vibe of like "this feels sexy" but trope-wise? there's probs stuff i wouldn't write often or more than once, but i'm always up for a challenge lmao. i have joked before that i think i could write 1k about pretty much anything, and i think i could write smth that i had a good time writing with the right story behind the trope

15. A Hollywood producer tells you that they want to film just one of your fics. Which fic would you want it to be?

ohhhhh oh boy. hm. i think to love (and be loved in return) (x) would fit the bill for like. fun fantasy world + mostly lighthearted and enjoyable romcom/fluff vibes with a little twist? if they're a producer that doesn't mind a little spice maybe my king of disaster series (x) i really think it'd be fun and very cool to see one of my fantasy fics/series come to life, especially one with more magic and a whole big cast of characters!!o

[send me writing asks from this list!]

#ask #ask game #writing #aewinning

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snnbnny · 2 years

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Hi! I know we haven’t interacted much yet (I’m trying to work on interacting more with moots tho!!) but I wanted to say congratulations on your milestone!! I also just saw the event and I think this event is super cute and original and I love the concept!!

I was wondering if I could possibly join?—if so,

My pronouns: she/her

Some stuff about me: I’m super sarcastic but usually don’t mean harm by it. I’m scared of heights and spiders and I’m allergic to mangoes and kiwis (doesn’t stop me from trying to eat them though) —(I also have a weird allergy to a weather pattern everyone makes fun of me for it haha)

I would like to go on a date with Suna (we probably have a newer relationship) and don’t have a specific visual for it, but I usually like to wear sundresses on dates cause they give me a little confidence boost

a/n: Hi Kaze!!! I want to interact more because you seem super sweet and i hope you know you always have a place here.

↳˗ˏˋ KAZE AND R. SUNA + AERO AND O.MIYAˊˎ˗ ↴

->OUTFITS:

You

Samu

Rin

->OVERVIEW: I love the concept that you and rin are a newer relationship, but I feel as if me and Samu are more established but very much still mushy over each other like new couples often are- hence why I think we find you two to be so adorable and also why we all hang out so much besides being friends.

->THE DATE WILL CONSIST OF....: This feels like a rather casual summer day date, like getting iced coffees or whatever then all meeting at the farmers market to shop around together before we go to a lake or large forested park and eat some of our goodies we got at the market before we dip our feet in water and fool around.

↳-PEER INTO THIS WINDOW TO SEE A MOMENT FROM THE DAY-༉‧₊˚✧

----wooooooooooosh---- (third person pov)

Despite the late July sun beating down, your group had found the perfect place to hide away between the cool water of the small lake and the shade of matured pine trees which populate the area. While Kaze and Aero stand ankle deep in the waters, kicking the liquid at each other and exchanging light hearted banter. On the other hand their boyfriends sit on the rather large red blanket which was nestled perfectly between the trees which sat a bit off of the bank of the babbling water source. The boys were watching their partners with hearts in their eyes and fresh apples in hand, they were enjoying a bout of comfortable silence which simmered perfectly in the calm of the moment.

That of course changed when Rintaro asked his friend something in a rather quite tone, "How do you keep your relationship with Jules so-"

"New?" Osamu gave his old friend a knowing look, it was as if the chef was waiting for this conversation to arise and had planed ahead. "If yer askin' if theres any secrets, na there ain't. Fer me and my darlin over there it's just the kinda love we 'ave. We're jus' two fouls who're still head-over-heals in 'ove even after a year and a half."

"... Yeah, yeah you do. It's something to admire what you two have, it's special." Suna whispered, looking towards Kaze longingly.

"Same can be said bout ya and Kaze," Samu retorted. "'spite the newness, i's like ya been together fer years. Theres familiarity an' understandin that takes time ta build. If ya worried if y'all got what it takes to stand 'gainst the stand of time, Me and my angel over there think ya thousand percent can."

Looks of appreciation and comradery were exchanged by the men, Osamu took this as the conclusion and stood to join Bunny and Kaze in the water expecting Suna to follow as he was.

༉‧₊˚✧and the window fades to darkness

link to the event (open)

#snnybnny's 150 follower event

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varietysky · 3 years

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No 11 for fandom ask: all ghosts characters

Fandom Asks | BBC Ghosts

11. what song do you associate with a character?

Okay, some of these song associations are deeper than others, and some might gel with the character lyrically moreso than musically.

Robin: "I’m Going To Go Back There Someday” from The Muppets

There's not a word yet for old friends who've just met

Part heaven, part space, or have I found my place

You can just visit, but I plan to stay

I'm going to go back there someday

Humphrey: "Emily" by Mika

Emily, one day I will end up dead

That's the only thing I've said

That would ever get her smiling

Emily

Emily, it's your life

And you can't live it twice

One day you'll understand

Emily, take my hand

Emily, I love you

And I know you do too

You never make no sense

Screaming at me in French

Mary: "I’d Rather Be Burned As A Witch” by Eartha Kitt

I use my eyes to invite you

My lips to delight you

And you never can tell

When I use my teeth to bite you

They say that I’m a witch,

And that I weave a spell

Well, I’ll be a son of a

I don’t know what

Well, let me tell you brother

I’d rather be burned as a witch

than never be burned at all

Kitty: "Party Tricks" by Äyanna

If I left the party would you look for me

Or would you just keep on dancing to your own beat

Take it,

You never thought that I would take it back

But it’s mine and I’m gonna take it back

Dignity and all of that

How many times have I heard this track?

You don’t see when I turn my back

You don’t see when I text you back

Believe me when I say

I gave you all I could and more than I should have

Hoping that you would need me

To your surprise, much to my demise

You had taken more than you need me

And myself and I, we will be just fine

I can bounce back, believe me

I will let it rain, then be on my way

Thomas: "Jessie's Girl" by Rick Springfield

I'll play along with the charade

That doesn't seem to be a reason to change

You know I feel so dirty when they start talking cute

I wanna tell her that I love her but the point is probably moot

'Cause she's watching him with those eyes

And she's lovin' him with that body, I just know it!

And he's holding her in his arms late, late at night

You know I wish that I had Jessie's girl

I wish that I had Jessie's girl

Where can I find a woman like that?

Fanny: "Still Hurting" from The Last Five Years

Jamie arrived at the end of the line

Jamie's convinced that the problems are mine

Jamie is probably feeling just fine

And I'm still hurting

What about lies, Jamie

What about things

That you swore to be true

What about you, Jamie

What about you

Jamie is sure something wonderful died

Jamie decides it's his right to decide

Jamie's got secrets he doesn't confide

And I'm still hurting

Captain: "Are You Lonesome Tonight" as covered by Frank Sinatra

Are you lonesome tonight

Do you miss me tonight

Are you sorry we drifted apart

Does your memory stray to a bright summer day

When I kissed you and called you sweetheart

Do the chairs in your parlor seem empty and bare

Do you gaze at your doorstep, and picture me there

Is your heart filled with pain, shall I come back again

Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight

Pat: “Always On My Mind” by Pet Shop Boys

Maybe I didn't hold you

All those lonely, lonely times

I guess I never told you

That I am so happy that you're mine

If I made you feel second best

Girl I'm sorry I was blind

But you were always on my mind

You were always on my mind

Tell me, tell me that your sweet love hasn't died

Give me, give me one more chance

To keep you satisfied

I'll keep you satisfied

Julian: "Gives You Hell" by All American Rejects

I wake up every evenin'

With a big smile on my face

And it never feels out of place

And you're still probably workin'

At a nine to five pace

I wonder how bad that tastes

When you see my face, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell

When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell

If you find a man that's worth a damn and treats you well

Then he's a fool, you're just as well, hope it gives you hell

Bonus!

Alison and Mike: "Dead Hearts" by Stars

Did you touch them? Did you hold them?

Did they follow you to town?

They make me feel I'm falling down

Was there one you saw too clearly?

Did they seem too real to you?

They were kids that I once knew

I could say it, but you won't believe me

You say you do, but you don't deceive me

It's hard to know they're out there

It's hard to know that you still care

I could say it, but you won't believe me

You say you do, but you don't deceive me

Dead hearts are everywhere

Jemima: "Feel A Thing" by Meet Me @ The Altar

I'm mistaken

For someone that can hide the aching

Constant breaking

Within this fragile mind

I've hated

Am I stuck? Can I defeat this?

With my luck, would I be complete then?

I've been holding my breath

To keep in all that's left

I should be hurting

But I can't feel a thing

It might be all the stress

At least that's my best guess

How could I know this

If it all feels the same?

Plague Ghosts: "Secondary Characters" from [title of show]

The secondary characters are singing a song

While the stars are snacking off-stage

It was their idea to bring us along

And now we're hijacking this page

Of the script

We're equipped

To steer the ship

'Til this trippy skit ends

And by the end of this song, we'll be best friends

#mia posts a thing #bbc ghosts #ghosts bbc #long post #anonymous #answered #I tried choosing songs I haven't mentioned already in previous asks #most of these are from my ghosts playlist anyway #i also associate many songs with several characters so it was hard to choose just one for each #this took so long omg #biphobic that this isn't showing in the tag tbh

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remmushound · 3 years

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Bay/rise 34!! @brightlotusmoon @errorfreak88 @digitl-art-monstr @selfindulgenz @yarchurr @dakotafinely @yarchurr @sententiously-sarcastic @sprinklestheditty

“This is fucking stupid.” Raph was pacing anxiously, his frustrations coming out in the form of heavy breaths.

“I totally agree.” Donnie agreed, “But you know Leo. He’d not gonna let this go.”

“He he fucking ought to! We ain’t got time for this shit!”

The Leo’s were both separately getting ready for the spar, but with such an open space it was nearly impossible for them to get out of each other's line of sight. This resulted in what could only be described as a heated staring content between the both of them as they sharpened their katana and odachi almost passive-aggressively. The brothers and sister of both proud ninja were intermingled in a group together— their brothers’ antics weren’t enough to drive them apart completely, but it was enough for a wedge to be stuck between them.

“Is Leo gonna be okay?” Michelangelo appealed to Donatello, grabbing a hold of the older teens arm.

“I don’t know Michael.” Donatello sighed, sticking his nose in the air in his frustration, “Leon’s always getting himself in this kind of trouble! It’s gonna catch up to him eventually!”

“Hopefully not today.” Michelangelo said, looking to Leo. “Other Leo is very large. He’s jumbo sized!”

“Sadly, his brain didn't get the memo.”

Mikey was looking between both of the Leo’s with no small amount of guilt. Donnie had given him the clear after he had calmed slightly and the pain in his chest wasn’t so bad, but now the pain had been replaced with an intense sadness. Michelangelo nudged his brother and pointed to the sad box turtle, and then both brothers nodded at each other with similar intent as they marched over and each took a seat beside Mikey.

“Why the long face?” Michelangelo pouted.

“I dunno, Mike, seems kinda… oblong to me.” Donatello motioned vageuly to Mikey’s face.

Mikey gave the slightest chuckle before he started to cry softly. Michelangelo frowned and looked to Donatello, who quickly pulled a tissue from out of his battle shell and offered it to Mikey. Mikey accepted it and, after a moments thought, said,

“You just carry tissues around wherever?”

“I never know when I’ll have to break out the dramatics~!” Donatello struck a pose.

“Are you okay?” Michelangelo gave Mikey a gentle stroke on the shoulder. “You look sad.”

“I’m just… useless.” Mikey hung his head.

That statement caused both Hamato brothers to erupt in loud, overlaying denial as they practically swarmed Mikey trying to convince him otherwise.

“You’re not!”

“You’re really not.”

“You’re incredible!”

“I once tried nunchucks for a day. Hit myself in the head, cried in a corner, slept in said corner. Very traumatizing.”

“You can do lots of things!”

“Except fight, apparently…” Mikey pouted, crossing his arms. “I just watched my dad and your dad get taken and I did nothing!”

“You’re not the only one who did nothing!” Donatello offered.

Michelangelo swatted Donatello and scowled at him a second before turning back to Mikey. “You panicked— that’s nothing to be ashamed of!”

“We were there! We— we could’ve helped stop them! We—“

“What could we have done…?” Michelangelo asked softly, laying a hand on Mikey’s knee.

Mikey gave a long, tired sigh reminiscent of someone far older with many more years of life bearing down on his shoulders. “Nothing.”

“Exactly.” Michelangelo said, “But what we could’ve done is gotten hurt! He took out all your brothers in one swing! All we would’ve ended up doing is getting taken out with them.”

“But don’t you think—“

“Come on.” Mikey’s words were interrupted by his Leo, who had lost what little patience remained as he strutted forward with the confidence of gods. “Let’s get this over with.”

Leo was the first in the dojo and he stood there as if he was still challenging Leonardo to back down at the cost of his honor. Leonardo didn't move from his place where he was still polishing his odachi.

“Well?” Leo prompted, “Come on! You challenged me to this, remember! Don’t you want to defend your honor?”

Leonardo thought for a second, and then shrugged. “Eh, never really had much of that to begin with. And I have all the time in the world baby!”

Despite his words, Leonardo seemed to accept his counterpart's challenge and stood from his seated position, giving his odachi a few experimental swipes before he came to join Leo in the dojo.

“This ain’t gonna end good...” April shook her head. Her face was painted to match Leonardo’s markings and she brandished a blue flag in support. Upon seeing Leonardo entering the dojo, however, she promptly cheered, “WHOOP WHOOP! YOU GOT THIS LEON!”

The rest of the gathered mutants— all except Raphael, who was still sleeping off his exhaustion— gathered in a tight group to watch as the scene unfolded. Donnie split from the group one last time in an attempt to appeal to his brother.

“Leo, this is crazy!” Donnie said, but it was like talking to a wall, “You can’t fight him!”

“Why not?” Leo asked calmly without dignifying Donnie’s concern with even a glance.

“Well, one, he's a child.” Donnie deadpanned, “And two, we need to be focusing on finding Master Splinter.”

“Trust me Don, this isn’t gonna take very long.”

“What you gonna do, punt the fifteen year old?!”

“He’s the one who picked a fight.” Leo growled.

“Yeah. Oh course he did.” Donnie leaned closer to his brother and spoke slowly, as if Leo were dense, “He’s. A. Teenager. A dumb, confident teenager!”

“So are we.”

“We’re gonna be twenty next month— I hardly think it counts!”

Leo didn't respond. He stared forward with a determined look and simply walked away from Donnie, leaving his younger brother staring after him with a frustrated disbelief.

Leo faced his counterpart. “Do you know the duel rights?”

Leonardo shrugged almost cartoonishly.

“Of course not.” Leo sighed, then carried on, “Rule number one: The offending party has the right to an apology and, if it is accepted by the offended party, then the duel will not carry to term.”

“Okay, so you gonna apologize them?” Leonardo asked, almost hopefully.

Leo narrowed his eyes and gave no answer. “If there is no apology met, then the next rule of order is to choose a second. The seconds are the judges— they try to reach a peace, and if a peace is unable to be met, then we move onto phase three. My second is my brother Raphael.”

Raph grunted softly and split off from the group to hesitantly come to Leo’s side.

“Don, you feeling up to it?” Leonardo looked to his brother.

Donatello gave it a moment's thought before shrugging and sauntering off almost in a bored fashion to Leonardo’s side.

“How do we win?” Leonardo asked.

“To win, you must knock down your opponent and hold your blade to their throat. Rule number three! The seconds try to negotiate a peace.” Leo gave a nod, and Raph lumbered forward to meet Donatello in the middle. The two of them quickly fell to a hushed discussion.

“Hello.” Donatello said, his eyes half-lidded and his voice dull.

“Hey— can’t you just try and get your Leo to apologize?” Raph almost pleaded, “You know this ain’t exactly a fair fight.”

“I know.” Donatello replied with little enthusiasm. “Your Leo’s gonna get knocked flat on his Gluteus Maximus. That’s science terms for buttocks. Aka: ass.”

Raph gave a half-amused snort. “No offense, pancake, but I think we both know that ain’t right.”

“Oh wowwwwww, so original.” Donatello slumped, “I’m so hurt. Then again you do have a good point.

Raph smiled, thinning himself victorious until Donatello added,

“I mean, there’s nothing Maximus about his Gluteus.” Donatello motioned to Leo with his thumb.

“No—” Raph growled and forced a smile as he addressed Donatello with slow words, “What I meant was that your brother is gonna end up with the same fate as a firework on Fourth of July.” He made an explosion motion and added his own sound effects, “I mean— come on! It’s like a dodge against a semi-truck— your bro stands no chance!”

“I think we can stand to disagree on that.” Donatello defended his brother calmly.

Raph fixed Donatello with a deadpan expression. “You’re not gonna back down are you?”

“Negatory.” Donatello finally smiled— little more than a slight curve of his lips, but still a smile. “Or way— would that be an affirmative? Eh. Doesn’t matter. Either way I believe we are done here.”

Without another word, he spun on his heels and carried himself confidently over to his brother’s side. Raph grumbled as he often did before taking his leave a few seconds after. There was a minute of stressful silence as both seconds reported to their brothers before Leo stepped forward again.

“Rule four. Draw your weapon only once there is a medic on sight with his back turned.”

Leonardo whistled. “I mean, not that I couldn’t beat you with my back turned, but seriously?”

“Not you.” Leo growled, “Donnie will be our medic on standby.” Leo motioned the tech genius to turn around, and Donnie hesitantly obeyed. This left only the Mikey’s watching. Once Leo was satisfied, he went on, “Rule five would usually include dueling at dawn, but I hardly think it matters down here.”

Leonardo looked up at the high ceiling and then down at Leo.

“Rules six and seven are also moot given our particular circumstances. Unless you have a god you pray to…?”

“Eh, some may describe me as a God, but I think I forgive myself for my sins~”

It took everything Leo had to keep his cool. “Rule number eight. Your last chance to set the record straight.”

“Hey! That rhymed! Good for you!”

“Wait are you just getting these from the Hamilton Musical?” Donatello started to ask, but was interrupted; even as Leo spoke over him, he still continued to talk until he finished the sentence.

“Rule number nine! Look your enemy in the eye.” He and Leonardo locked gazes, “Meet your enemy in the middle…”

Leonardo and Leo took four paces each until they were directly in front of each other.

“Summon your courage in any way necessary.” Leo said cooly, giving a bow that Leonardo returned, “Take a minute to breathe, then take ten paces back.”

The Leo’s were almost in perfect sync as they took their paces backward, now several paces behind their seconds while still facing each other.

“Ready your sword…”

Twin katana and a single odachi were held at the ready.

“Take one final breath…”

No one in the room breathed.

“And count to ten. One… two… three… four...”

“...five...six…seven… eight... nine...”

“Ten.”

#Fight fight fight!!#yes I got the duel commandments from Hamilton #I couldn’t find any good ones okay?!#I won’t apologize for perfection #donatello will defend his bro till the day he dies #usually with sarcasm

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whenimaunicorn · 4 years

Text

An Ill-Advised Wager

The lurid tale of how I lost my dignity in a bet to a pirate captain, and how in return he gave me my first orgasm that very night.

Fandom: Black Sails Characters: Charles Vane x Original Female Character (Ranger crew member) Words: 8874 Rating: Explicit Content Warnings: I don’t think there are any; the consent is very clearly negotiated. Dirty talk, oral and p/v sex that gets slightly rough.

“Your bid.” Captain Vane’s deep voice purred across the table at me, his cards held at a careless angle in front of his chest.

The lamplight flickered as the ship swayed. The captain’s quarters were lit just well enough to see the cards by, and for me to try and read the faces of the other players. At this particular moment, I was not concerned about Jack and Anne; the only countenance I cared to read was Vane’s. This, this seemed like the time to make my move. “I’ll bid—” I had to stop myself short when I glanced down, my fingers finding only one thin coin left to my name. I frowned down at it.

“Just about out of options,” the captain observed, leaning forward with the hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Not much left to bet.”

I pulled a face and tossed the coin toward the center of the table. “It’ll have to do. Just means I’ll be coming back a little slower after I win this hand.”

Vane regarded me from under heavy brows. “You would’ve bet more on this one, if you had it.”

My eyes flashed to his and I gave him only a quick nod. Better to appear like I was pretending to be more confident than I felt; in my experience that seemed to be the best way to bluff our Captain.

“What if I let you wager something else?”

I lifted a brow at him, trying to look skeptical. In truth, I was jumping to accept any deal he proposed; I was that certain that I would win the round. What with the queen I had hidden up my sleeve. “What could I have that you want?”

“Nothing you have to part with.” He settled back in his chair. “But if you wanted to wager a night in your bed, that would be something I would consider to be of great value.” He inched forward quite a few glimmering stacks of his own coin, showing how he would match the bet. Just the kind of large take I was saving that card for.

It was hard to keep my face impassive, so taken aback was I. I quibbled, to stall for time, and let the rest of my mind catch up with the escalating situation. “My bed is a hammock surrounded by your snoring, unwashed crew. Not sure you want to share that tonight.”

“Fine, then wager a night in mine,” Vane countered. His eyes glittered as bright as the gold as he waited for my response.

Jack Rakham coughed loudly. We both completely ignored him, staring each other down.

Was the captain serious? His deep-set eyes did not waver as he watched every nuance of my reaction. I didn’t have time to think about whether I believed he actually wanted to sleep with me. I pushed back my own foolhardy, burning desire, the one that I had always carefully hidden from him, and decided that it didn’t matter, anyway. I wasn’t going to lose. I could sort out the rest later.

“Done.”

Vane pushed forward a pile of coin so large that it made Anne suck in a breath through her teeth. I did feel my own cheeks color at the idea of what he would pay for me, were I for sale. “Show ‘em.”

I let my cards spill to the table, my hidden card now switched in and completing a high-value set. The only way I could possibly be beaten would be…

Vane laid his own hand across the table. Too many kings smirked up at me from that row. My stomach sank.

Vane drew his glittering stacks back to his edge of the table. Then he reached out and swiped up my own last coin between two long fingers.

I could have said something. I’d been counting the cards; there shouldn’t have been that many kings left in the deck. But I knew Jack habitually counted cards as well. If I said something about Vane’s foul play, Jack was likely to point out that I was cheating, too. Maybe that would have been enough to end the game right here, declare the round moot and undo the terms of the wager. Maybe. But I looked across the table at the way Vane was staring at me through his eyelashes. I imagined what it would feel like to be pinned underneath that body on his big bed, and after that I couldn’t say anything at all.

I turned and poured myself a drink.

He didn’t gloat. He didn’t tease, he didn’t try to touch me, he didn’t say one word about the terms I had just agreed to. The game went on without me. What did that mean? The captain had never indicated this kind of interest in me before. Was it just a power move, just part of the game?

I kept stealing glances at his face. Every time, he caught me, and gave me heavy looks back, until I felt as flustered as a schoolgirl. Jack kept the conversation going, talking about anything but the wager that had just transpired. He was almost babbling, really, and shooting me concerned looks whenever he thought Vane wasn’t looking. Anne’s face was smoldering; but she always looked like that. No way to tell if she was furious with the captain, or with me, or if she was thinking about something completely different.

I couldn’t hold Vane’s eyes, now. I looked anywhere but his face whenever he was staring at me, and even ignored when he tried batting at my foot with his under the table. I had been very careful never to invite being looked at in a sexual way by any of the men on this crew. I was lucky to have found as much acceptance as I had, here. Certainly Anne had paved the way for that, but I knew the balance was precarious. I had decided that I had to be untouchable; that would be the only way to fit in with the men without causing problems. Or having to fight off constant advances. And now here Vane was, about to ruin my reputation. I shouldn’t have been so cocky.

“Well, it does seem like it’s time to retire,” Jack said, staring forlornly into the mouth of the rum bottle. He upended it over his mug without gaining more than a single, final drop. He and Anne started scooping their remaining coin into purses.

I, having nothing left on the table, looked at my hands awkwardly.

They rose, and I thought to stand with them, but the captain cleared his throat and I dropped my butt back into the chair. Anne paused at my elbow, staring down the curtain of her hair at me. “You can leave with us,” she challenged, turning her baleful eye to Vane. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“’Course she doesn’t,” Vane growled at her.

At the same time I straightened, and replied to her half a beat later. “I wouldn’t welch on a bet.”

Anne furrowed her brows down at me. I think she may have been trying to look supportive, but her face had forgotten how to be soft. “Don’t sit well with me. Backed you into a corner, he did.”

“Come along, darling,” Jack said, wrapping one arm around her and attempting to tug her away. “I am certain she can take care of herself.”

I fixed Jack with a pointed look. “Not a word to the crew about this.”

Rackham drew himself up, exaggerated affront painted across his features. “What, are you implying that I gossip? I’ll have you know that I am extremely tactful. I know when to keep my mouth shut. There is an art to knowing when a thing is to be said, and when a thing is to be forgotten, and I assure you—”

Anne leaned her head toward me. “He won’t say anything.” From the way her hand fisted in Jack’s collar, it was clear she would be making sure of it.

When the door closed behind them, the sound of the latch clicking into place seemed loud as a bell. Vane had settled back into his chair, idly playing with a coin across the backs of his fingers. Looking at me like he was waiting for me to do something. It was embarrassing, really, how good he looked to me right then, his powerful frame smoldering in the chair, the strong lines of his face perfectly warmed in the lamplight.

I looked away. I had been resisting thinking those kinds of thoughts about him for so long, it was hard to break the habit now. I lifted my cup just for something to do with my hands, but it was already empty.

“Shy?” his voice crackled through the silence. “I suppose I should have expected you to be shy.” That irritated my pride, so I mustered my courage enough to glare back at him. Vane’s eyes were only laughing at me a little; mostly there was an unexpected kind of caring, a softness for me to be found there. “Haven’t done this in a while, have you?”

No reason not to tell him the truth. “No.”

His fingers flicked under that coin again. “Not a virgin, are you?”

“No.” I suddenly couldn’t bear the tension, and started stripping my arms out of my jacket. “Let’s just get this over with, then.”

Vane raised a single, scarred eyebrow. “Get this over with? That’s not really what I had in mind.” That throaty voice of his was so seductive. I should have been annoyed at the implication he was going to drag this experience out, but damn if my heart didn’t start beating a little faster.

“Yes, I am sure you are planning to take full advantage.”

He frowned, still not moving toward me. “What are you trying to say.”

I sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “I don’t know what the whores are telling you, but I’m a free woman out here and I’ll give you the truth. Sex doesn’t feel as good for women as it does for men.”

“Is that what you think.” He didn’t look offended, or ruffled at all by my flat statement. There may have even been a little pity touching his eyes. “Who told you that?” He reached out for my hand, resting on the top of the table, and I let him have it.

“In my experience, it never seemed that enjoyable.” His fingers squeezed softly between mine, as playful as they had been with that coin. He was listening to me, but trying to loosen my mood at the same time. “And I’ve never heard any respectable woman say anything different.”

“Well there’s your problem right there. Listening to respectable women. They only fuck respectable men, and those fuckers don’t know what they are doing.”

He lifted my hand from the table, leaning forward when I did not let myself be drawn nearer to him, and touched it to his lips. The kiss between my knuckles lingered, so much more than the polite gesture it was meant to mimic. Especially when his breath rushed out over my skin. I’m certain what I was feeling had started to show in my face. The way he was talking set off things I hadn’t really felt in years.

“You’re worried about what the men will think about you.” He spoke over the back of my hand, continuing to play with my fingers between his.

“Someone is bound to notice if I don’t wake up with my shift.”

Vane smiled. “Let them hear about the terms of the wager, then. I’ll tell the men that you spent the whole night wrapped up tight in the blanket, wouldn’t even let me touch you. That you played me just for the chance to sleep on a real mattress.”

I smiled, despite my sour mood. “Generous. But if that’s the case, perhaps I might actually do just that.”

He squeezed my hand. “That is certainly within your right. But if I’m not getting anything out of this, you’re sleeping on the floor.” We stared at each other for a long moment, both calculating. “But. If you decide you want to honor the spirit of the wager, and not just the words, I promise that I will make certain this is very, very enjoyable for you too.”

With his fingers laced tightly between mine, his thumb spread tantalizing circles across my palm. I felt my face getting hot as I stared across the edge of the table at him. He was absolutely letting me out of the requirement to do this, and at the same time making me actually want it. I was almost starting to believe he could do as he said, too. That he could make it feel different than that last time I had allowed a man to touch me, based on his unwavering confidence alone, and on the way my body was responding. His thumb stroked up the inside of my wrist with a surprising, exquisite delicacy.

“Why don’t you come sit next to me on the bed. Just to see how it feels. And whether you want to stop after that or not, I’ll tell the men that your legs remained firmly crossed.”

I still wasn’t answering, but I could no longer summon the words to say no. I had never seen Vane’s face like this, not directed at me at least. So… intent. And yet tender. I was starting to believe he actually wanted me, that this wasn’t just some victory to achieve on a whim, some conquest he devised because we were out on the open ocean and there were no whores in sight to appease him better. He looked at me like he was really trying to see me.

He kissed my hand one time more, then rose from his chair and crossed to the big bed nailed into the wall at one side of the cabin. I wondered briefly if it were the original, a luxury afforded to naval captains, or if Vane had put such an ostentation in himself after he took the Ranger. He sat down on the edge, caught my gaze one more time, and then set to taking off his boots.

“You’ll…” my voice warbled through the cabin, higher and weaker than I had wanted it to come out. He paused his movements, looking up and waiting for me to find my words. “If I want to stop, if it doesn’t feel right, you’ll let me?”

He straightened, his face going soft and sincere. “Of course. You are a free woman. The last thing I want you to feel is trapped.”

“Then,” I said, letting the warm relief that rushed through me at his words show in a little smile, “I suppose I might come sit next to you… Keeping my legs crossed.”

Vane winked, and finished pulling off his great, big boots. Mine were not as fine as his, and would slip off much more easily when the time came, but I did not want to promise anything by pulling them off this early. Instead I just sat in my chair a moment longer, enjoying the view of my strapping, handsome captain loosening his own clothing, readying himself for bed.

I wasn’t ready for his eyes again, when he finally looked up at me over his outstretched hand. “Come here.”

The mattress sagged underneath me as I sat down, but Vane was heavier and had already pulled it into a deeper valley, one that threatened to drag my hips down against his by gravity alone. He flipped his long hair over his shoulder as he turned his upper body to face me, and his scent filled my nostrils, rich and beguiling.

The truth was, I had wanted Captain Vane from the moment I laid eyes on him. Pursuing that thought had just never seemed like a good idea, especially once he took me seriously enough to allow me, a woman, to join his crew. Nor had I thought it very likely he would ever return my affections. Given my chosen profession, I didn’t think myself feminine enough to catch a man’s real interest.

But when Captain Vane ran the backs of his curled fingers down the side of my face, I felt desired. He touched me the way one would treat a proper lady, not grabbing or groping. His fingertips came to rest under my chin, tilting my mouth up toward his. I thought for a moment he might even ask to kiss me, the fearsome pirate captain himself, who never hesitated to take what he wanted in any other context. It was there in his eyes, the question, as he watched how I reacted to the parting of his lips.

My body leaned toward his, fractionally, past all my insecurities, and that was all the signal he needed to duck his head and press his lips against mine. His pressure was tender, but it was bold too, as his mouth parted wide enough to seize my lower lip between his. My insides reacted immediately, a fire kindling that made me wilt and straighten somehow both at once.

He didn’t push me into the bed. His desire was there, smoldering behind the working of his lips, but he held it back and kissed me thoroughly, while his hands played over the sides of my face.

I was burning up inside. There was a voice in my head telling me to end it here, that it was smarter to be the untouchable one, that I would come to regret this. But those thoughts only served to immolate me, to make the heat Vane was drawing out of my core more obvious, the desire for more of him more immediate every time I considered pulling away.

I gave in to gravity, and let the line of my hip roll down against his. Vane’s strong arms gathered me up, pulling my chest in against his as he kept kissing me. The angle was sharper now, pulling my neck long as my chin lifted to chase his kisses, my jaw opening almost without thought to allow his hot tongue to press past my teeth. I pressed open palms against his broad chest, hardly daring to satisfy my long-held craving to explore the heavy muscles to be found there.

One of his hands, previously content with stroking my face and curling through my hair, now traced curious fingers down the column of my neck. I shivered, knowing that the passion building between us was about to cross over into indecency.

But it had been a long time since I had been trying to live the life of a “decent woman.”

Vane pulled his mouth away from mine, his fingers halting their descent at the level of my collarbone. He traced up and down along that delicate line as he looked into my eyes. “Enjoying yourself yet?”

I was a little bit breathless, but still maintained enough poise to tilt my head coquettishly. “Still deciding.”

He smiled and leaned into me again. This time his lips were more insistent, reassured perhaps by the lightening of my mood. He cradled the back of my head with one hand, that arm holding me scooped in against his body, while his tongue delved my mouth and sought out mine. The other hand slid down the side of my body, playing over my ribs, tugging at my waist to pull me tighter against him.

I was glad that he had not immediately sought out my breasts. A long strip of cloth bound them down firmly under the man’s shirt that I wore every day of my pirating life. I was now… self-conscious about how unwomanly his hands were going to find me.

In truth, it had mostly been liberating to give up the trappings of femininity, and I was in love with the freedoms that living in a man’s shoes had given me. Right now was the first time in a great long while that I found myself wishing for a proper corset. Not for my own benefit, but only to be certain that my captain would find me appealing.

The play of his hand across my lower back reassured me on that last count. So did the look in his eyes when he pressed his forehead into mine, searching me with a fire that went beyond simple lewdness or curiosity. With a deep, slightly labored inhale, he began to open the buttons on my shirt, watching my reaction closely the whole time.

I wanted this. I couldn’t even imagine pulling away now. And though I feared that the sight of my chest strapped flat would be less than enticing for him, I was overcome by the desire to be seen. By him. To reveal myself to him. I opened the last few buttons of the shirt myself, and sat up straight as he pushed it down over my shoulders.

“I know why you hide yourself,” his voice rasped in the small space between us. “Why you braid your hair back tight, dress like the rest of us.” His eyes flashed back up to mine from under his brow. “And I think it’s smart. To not be a woman on this ship.” His fingertips traced up my belly, ran over the strip of cloth wound over my chest. “I’ve also seen the way you look at me.” A fresh thrill ran through me. He was seeking the place where he could loosen that binding. “And it occurred to me tonight, that you might be wanting an excuse. A way for this kind of… contact to be both possible, and deniable.”

My breath sighed out between my lips as I raised my hands up behind my back, freeing the end of the fabric and beginning to unwind it for him. Vane took over almost immediately, strong hands brushing over mine as he took the edge of the cloth and finished the unwrapping himself.

The sudden freedom made my breasts tingle; that, and the weight of Captain Vane’s gaze upon my completely nude torso. My nipples hardened before he even touched them, his hands scooping up from underneath with a soft sort of appreciation. When his thumbs brushed over the peaks I shivered. “Sensitive, are you?” he commented, and kept his touch gentle.

I closed my eyes and leaned into the feel of his powerful hands massaging my peaks. I felt his lips run across my cheek a moment later, then they were nipping down under my jaw, exploring the side of my neck. As he made his way down his bulk pushed me slowly backwards, until I had to reach back and hold myself up with one hand flat against the mattress. When his hot mouth closed over my nipple I arched my back and gasped. The sensation had sent a burst of unexpected pleasure straight down through my core, something sinful and tantalizing that had me wondering if perhaps the whores were not always faking the noises they made.

I looked down at Vane. His eyes were closed, brows lifted in an expression of rapt pleasure as he suckled on my tit, his head bent sideways to reach it and an angle that could not possibly be comfortable for long. I ran my fingers up his back, and my captain sighed with obvious pleasure. “Come up into my lap,” he coaxed.

With one last lick at my breast, he leaned back into a squarer posture and beckoned me to follow him up with insistent little tugs of his hands. When I realized he wanted me to straddle him I felt my face heating up. I had never been that wanton with a man.

His eyes were more hooded now, dreamier with pleasure but also narrowed, focused on his desire in the same way I had seen him look at a rich prize just before we raised the black. “Still shy?” he asked, echoing his earlier accusation, and it had the same effect on me for a second time.

In a surge of contrariness, I pushed my hesitation aside and swung my leg over his lap, sinking my knees into the mattress on either side of his hips. I held onto his shoulders for leverage, realizing too late that I had caught a few locks of his long hair in the process. I lifted my hand quickly and smoothed it back for him. I hadn’t even realized how tenderly I pushed the errant lock behind his ear until his clear, brilliant eyes flashed up at me and marked the moment. They were breathtaking, those eyes, fringed with lashes that would make them almost womanish were they not so deeply set into an aggressively masculine face. And something about this angle, him looking up at me now, softened them in a way that tugged at my chest. I almost forgot to speak my retort to his challenge. “Really, Captain, when have you ever known me to be timid?”

“Never before tonight.” He reached up to wind his fingers through a few of my own braided locks and pulled my face down for a kiss.

It was magnificent, and terrifying, to kiss Captain Vane like that. To be pushing down on him, having control of the angles, and yet to be so aware of being half-naked in a position that made every part of my body quite conveniently available to him. My hands scooped at his face while his roamed freely across my entire back, down my flanks and over my thighs, making me acutely aware of the unladylike spread of my legs, with no possible way to close them. So much for keeping my knees pressed firmly together tonight.

My fingers scrambled down broad shoulders as his scooped up the front of my body. It felt entirely unfair that he still wore his shirt, which was keeping his skin from me, and I told him as much. Vane stopped caressing me just long enough to strip it up over his head, exposing miles of rippling, tanned torso that I barely got to admire before it was hidden from my eyes again in the press of his body into mine. Rather than returning to the kiss he dove straight for one of my nipples, capturing it with more brash, self-assured confidence this time, his tongue circling with ease now that I was more conveniently lined up in front of his face.

I let my head fall back, overcome with that tugging, insistent heat that seemed to draw a line straight through my middle and down into my womanhood. I felt my legs tighten some against his waist, my hips bucking wantonly to close the little space that was left between us. It was so unlike me. And yet, it felt so thrilling. So indulgent. Just as a life of piracy should feel.

Captain Vane helped himself to my tits until I was positively melting in his lap. Our hips had started up a furtive, fractional rhythm that ran a counterpoise to the rocking of the ship. Like they thought they could get away with something that my mind wouldn’t catch them doing. I ground down more firmly into him, just to show them I was still boss, yes I was still in control and I wanted to be doing this too. Vane groaned into my chest. “Keep that up, love, and you’ll find yourself on your back faster than you thought possible.”

And I liked the sound of that so much that I did it again, pressing myself down over something that felt amazing against my tender, sensitive parts, something that I would have assumed was his hip bone if I wasn’t already feeling both of those against my inner thighs. Which meant that it was his—

True to his word, Vane scooped me up around the waist, popped me into the air with a thrust of his hips, and rode me down onto my back closer to the center of the bed. His hair spilled over both shoulders, curtaining us, and he dragged that hard length against me until I whimpered. He cocked his head, studying my face, my reaction to that.

I took a shaky breath in through my mouth, considering the moment as well. I actually felt…eager, to try letting a man do this to me again. My body was flushed, and languid, and writhing beneath him even when I thought I was lying still. Especially after the way he had flung me over, like it was only a trivial effort on his part to throw me around.

He must have been watching all this play across my face, for Vane’s next words were to purr “Is that how you like it, love? A little bit rough around the edges; want to feel me taking what I want?” He pressed his hardness between my spread legs, and it should have been insulting, an outrage, but because it was him it only stoked my passion to greater heights.

When I couldn’t find the words to answer in any way other than rocking my hips to match the motion of his, he dropped his head to kiss me. Deep, savoring kisses, ones that seemed, blessedly, to be meant to give me as much time to think as I wanted. Our bare chests slid against each other softly, and I allowed my hands to explore the planes and angles of the heavy muscles that before now had only fascinated my eye. Vane’s body was magnificent. And I thought, as I lay there, that being smashed underneath it might be the best possible way to enjoy it.

And so I whimpered, just a little, when he rolled off me, and settled in along my side without breaking the kiss. My body followed, seeking to keep our chests together, but I stilled when I felt his callused hand slide down my belly. “I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this body from me. I want to see all of it. Take off your trousers,” that rumbling voice urged.

I felt timid again, even as the heat bubbling up between my thighs caused me to press them together. I understood the meaning of the word “wanton,” now, as this burning feeling threatened to overwhelm all sensibilities. It still felt like something that perhaps I should not do, to allow myself to be completely naked in this dashing captain’s bed.

Echoes of an old life, that voice was. My new, pirating self did exactly as she pleased. And she, she said to that old voice: well, we did lose a bet. Only one honorable thing to do now.

Vane’s fingers were playing with the buckle of my belt, his smoldering eyes watching, waiting for me to react.

I appreciated his patience, the way he seemed to be willing to go at my pace, though his gaze brimmed with the promise of what he could unleash upon me once I dropped my last guard. The guard which at this point appeared to be symbolized by that clasped belt. His neck bent, a few locks of hair cascading over his face, so he could lay tender kisses on the skin of my shoulder and chest. He started to speak in between those kisses. “I won’t take you tonight,” his lips brushed the top of my breast, “if you truly don’t want that.” He nipped at my belly, just above my navel. “But perhaps you will allow me—” he kissed my flank, just below the edge of a rib, “—to do what I can to make you want it.” The last kiss landed in a tingling place just above the waistband of my trousers.

I lifted my head, keeping the rest of my body still underneath him. “I thought that’s what we were already doing.”

Vane straightened a little, and held my gaze while his hand came creeping up my leg, grazing along my thigh before hovering just above that hot place between my legs. His nimble fingers plucked a little at the fabric barring his way.

“Oh,” I gulped. Desire crashed over me like the surf of a rising tide. Yes, I wanted to feel him touch me there. And if he was saying that removing my trousers was not necessarily a promise that I was ready to let him push his cock inside me… I kicked my boots off so fast that the cabin echoed with the twin sounds of them crashing to the deck.

Vane helped me with my belt, then leaned back on one arm to watch me reveal the rest of my body to him. I pushed the last of my clothes down to the floor, eager to be rid of them now, then paused where I sat perched at the edge of the bed. I looked over my shoulder at my captain, hoping that the curve of my back, and the swell of my bare hips, appeared enticing to him.

His eyes were indeed clouded with lust, and his chest expanded with a deep inhale when I took the long, plain braid of my hair between my hands and began undoing it. Removing the final piece of what I had been using to hide my softness, my femininity. I watched him watching me, as I freed my hair, and I felt beautiful.

He reached his hand out to me, so many silent promises in his eyes, and I climbed across the bed to him. He kissed me soundly, fingers tangling in the loose tresses now freed around my face, and then he guided me to lay on my back beside him.

His hands slid over my body, firmer, more confident now. This was no longer coaxing, entreating: now Vane was conquering. He squeezed and savored all my curves, and his body pressed closer, more hungrily into mine, his mouth eating at me like the sweetest fruit.

And then his hand crept between my legs. His palm covered my mound, stilling me, letting me get used to the idea before his fingers started to move. I moaned my uncertainty into his mouth and he soothed me, humming a calming noise as he stroked at my sex and opened me up slowly.

I had only ever experienced rough fingers there before, greedy grasping that hurried to make the way clear for an insistent male desire. Vane’s touch was entirely different. His face hovered close to mine, watching my every reaction as he explored carefully, his fingertips gliding through the slickness at my entrance and pressing up to something else, a spot that concentrated all that heat that I had been feeling in my loins and made it bloom to unimagined heights.

My eyes widened in surprise. Vane seemed a little amused. “Has no man ever touched you there?”

I shook my head.

“Ever touched yourself there?”

My face burned at the very suggestion, and I denied it vigorously.

“Respectable women,” Vane chided, “are missing out on so much.” He rocked his finger in a little circle over that bud of pleasure, and I could only squirm and wail underneath him.

I clung to him as he worked me over, too far gone in the wash of desire from it to be embarrassed at the way my fingers dug into his arm, not even certain what I was begging for. I needed relief, but I didn’t want him to stop; the pleasure was burning, overwhelming, and I quite simply did not know what to do with myself. Vane’s face smirked down at me through all of it, every time I could bear to open my eyes and look up at him again.

My mouth let loose some sort of desperate, mewling sound when his fingertips left my body. I looked up at him just in time to see two of his long fingers disappear into his mouth, coming out coated in spit. Those slick fingers returned to my sex in a gliding plunge that parted my lower lips. The pleasure came easier now, less impaired by sensitivity and friction.

Vane’s eyes locked onto mine as I felt one of those fingers start to press inside me. A buzzing, welcoming heat gathered all around that invading finger, and though I kept my gaze on my captain’s face my awareness was all internal, focusing on how it felt to let him open me.

He kissed me again, once that finger was buried deep inside, and his lips kept anchoring mine as he dragged it softly in and out, simulating the movements I was certain he was burning up to be able to do with something else. Something much, much larger. I was surprised to find that the idea was more tantalizing than terrifying, now that Vane was taking so much time to get my body to warm to him.

He released my mouth so he could press his lips into the side of my neck, still rocking that finger rhythmically in and out. I could no longer say it felt like an invader, as pleasure bloomed all around it. I was surprised to find that I was even craving something thicker. The memories of my past, somewhat painful encounters with penetration had even taken on a perverse allure. I wanted to feel that again, now. “I’m…”—I had to pause and wet my throat, realizing how dry it had become from panting breaths—“I’m ready now, I think.”

Vane lifted his head, regarding me coolly. “Ready for what?”

“For…” I stumbled on the words, but I made myself say it. “For you to take me.”

“For my cock?” he specified firmly, bluntly, his intense eyes still looking a little bit amused around the edges.

I swallowed, and met his gaze bravely. “Yes.”

“No you’re not.” He shook his head and drew his finger out of me.

“What?”

Vane ignored my sputtering and started to slide down the bed alongside me. “Trust me, darling.” A smile flitted across his usually-stony face, making him look almost boyish as he shook his head at me. “It’s clear that you don’t even know what pleasure is, yet. Please, allow me to show you."

He tugged at my leg and I let him pull it wide. I was confused, and embarrassed, but I did trust him. My sworn captain. I’d let him show me what he meant.

Vane lifted my leg and put it over his shoulder, as he dropped down to his knees on the deck beside the bed. My face started to burn as hot as my loins when I realized he was positioning his mouth right above my sex, his breath already warm upon it. He turned his head and kissed me first on the inside of my thigh. “Relax.” His eyes flitted up, seeking mine. “Remember I promised, to make this enjoyable for you?”

His rich voice calmed me, and I nodded swiftly.

“Then let me try a few things. Tell me when I’m doing something that you like.”

His mouth was hot. So, so hot, and slick, when he fastened it over my mound in a devil’s kiss and slid his tongue alongside that secret pearl that was making my head spin. Vane pulled my legs apart a little wider, settling his bulk more comfortably between them, and then his tongue started flickering, back and forth against me.

My head flew back, my body curling to get closer to him and further away at the same time. What was this delicious, overwhelming feeling? The slide of Vane’s tongue was stoking that fire inside me higher than ever. I reached down and ran my fingers over his hair. I must have pushed him harder than I thought, because his tongue stilled and he drew back just far enough to speak. “Too much for you, love?”

“I…I don’t know.”

He hummed sagely as he pressed his lips against me again, the tail end of that vocalization making my toes curl as I felt it in my core. He licked more slowly this time, tongue circling that bud of pleasure as his hands stroked up and down my bare thighs.

The pleasure was more bearable this way, and I let a little encouraging moan slide past my lips, to let him know. It was embarrassing to hear myself make such a sound, but the reward of Captain Vane’s rocking tongue was well worth the price to my pride.

He kept on steadily, and something started building inside me, underneath his tongue. The pleasure was growing into a ball of heat, of tension, something that made me restless and yet entirely unwilling to move away from that sinful mouth. I squeezed my thighs around his head instead, curled my knees over his shoulder, flung my arms over my face, whipped my arms down to clutch at the sheets. I didn’t know what I needed, didn’t know what to do. The one thing I was certain of was that I did not want Vane to stop.

There was something that I suspected this pleasure might be, what it was leading up to. I had heard the men joke, of course, mostly accusing each other of being unable to make a woman do this. I had heard the whores faking it. But I never thought I was the kind of woman that it would ever happen to, that would feel this. Orgasm. The possibility wasn’t spoken of in the respectable home of my youth. I had thought, in fact, that it might be a lie that men told to each other, that women could melt into a burst of pleasure the way that men did when they made their final release at the end of the act. Because I had never heard women speak about it to each other.

But I learned that night, my body was indeed capable of this too. Captain Vane showed me, with a relentless tongue that brought all that rising tension in my core to a breaking point, a snap of passion that made my whole body seize up as I was carried away in a thundering wave of ecstasy.

His tongue slowed, but did not stop, after that wave broke inside me. He lapped every last drop of pleasure from between my thighs, until I sagged into the mattress, and stopped squeezing him so tightly.

I looked down just in time to watch him rise from the deck, wiping his mouth with one hand before reaching down to push off his own trousers. His cock sprang to attention, straining hard and oh so large, even though I was the one who had just gotten all the pleasuring. “You are magnificent,” he murmured as he climbed over my body, distracting my eyes from the spectacle of his erection as he pressed his forehead into mine.

I met his gaze almost helplessly, my parted lips unable to form words as I breathed hard, still roiling in the eddies of pleasure left in the wake of what he had done to me. The mattress sagged with the weight of his knees between my legs.

There was pride in his eyes as he examined the mess he’d made of my composure. “Now, you’re ready to be fucked,” he declared. He caressed the back of my thigh, pulling me open wider. “With your permission, of course.”

And in that moment, I wanted it more than I had ever wanted anything. My loins burned in a fresh rush as I angled my hips toward him. I reached one hand up to caress the back of his neck. The other slid down his belly, pushing through thick curls to claim a prize of my own.

Vane’s cock jumped in my hand as I wrapped my fingers around the smooth skin of his shaft, thrilling at the iron hardness that the soft surface covered. He groaned in my ear when I squeezed it, and sucked in a breath when I slid my palm over the weeping tip of him. “Do you want it?” he whispered, voice too tight to speak any louder, and I shivered at the sound of how he was struggling to hold himself back.

“Yes,” I confessed to his cheek, breathing in the rich, deep scent of him. My blooming cunt was aching for him now. “But,” I said, hand clenching on the back of his neck as he had already started to move over me, “I don’t want a child.”

He surprised me by kissing me then, suddenly and soundly. “I won’t let my seed go inside you,” he promised to my lips. “But I want,” he growled, “I need to feel you for a while.”

My consent breathed past my lips as I pressed my body up toward him. Vane’s hand replaced mine at the base of his cock as he leaned in to line himself up.

He dragged his tip through the wetness that coated the outside of my sex, before finding the place where he started sinking in. I was ready for the pain, and was surprised to find that it didn’t come, not the way it had felt with my less-skilled lovers before. Vane’s cock hung longer and thicker than I had ever seen before, and so I had feared the worst. But my body welcomed the stretch of him. Especially since he was working himself in so slowly, dragging back after every inch he gained, even spitting in his hand to add more moisture and ease his passage.

“Look at me.”

I couldn’t open my eyes at first, so overwhelmed was I with the slide of his cock, plumbing deeper and deeper inside me with every rock of his hips. When I finally did, and caught his brilliant, hooded eyes gazing down at me in absolute lust and affection, an even sharper passion bloomed in my core. It was a primal feeling, animal and strange and yet so deeply, truly right. Charles Vane was making me his. With a soft cry I yielded something I didn’t even realize I was holding back, and the entire length of him bottomed out inside me.

He kept his face close, he kept his hips close. He rocked in tiny movements, the softening of his eyelids showing his pure enjoyment of the sensation of being inside me.

But it was so much. So very, very much; the pressure close to pain as he filled me to my limit. Every time he rolled his hips, it felt a little better. “Move,” I breathed. “It feels better when you move.”

His deep voice rumbled in agreement as he pressed his forehead against mine and made his rhythmic thrusts longer, rocking like the waves against the shore, pulling more than half his length out before sliding inevitably back in. Pain kindled into pleasure under that steady motion, and I sighed in sweet relief.

“Feels good to be fucked properly, does it?” he teased into my ear, and I realized I had let my eyes close again as I sank into the ecstasy. He kissed my cheek and then lifted up a little above me, giving himself the leverage to snap his hips a little faster, a little harder.

I was panting now, my whole body getting hot as I writhed and offered myself to him fully.

“You never answered me before. How rough you’d like me to get.” His pace increased just a little even before I could answer, his hands curling around my hips.

I had always feared men’s roughness, during this act. But with Vane it felt totally different. And the coiled violence in his arms, the way he was so easily able to put lesser men in their place, certainly those were some of the things that attracted me to him the most. “How am I to answer a question like that?” And then, another thought arrested me: “How rough do you like it?”

Vane’s hips slowed, so he could pay attention to my face as he considered. One scarred eyebrow lifted. “I do like a woman with a little fight in her.”

Well. That, I certainly was. You don’t find a place on a pirate crew without a good measure of ferocity. But I considered my position. “Hard to fight you when you’ve already got me speared.”

I smoothed my hands along his flanks, faking a caress, then pushed them against his ribs while squeezing my thighs around him, twisting my hips in the way that I would use to throw a man off me in a fight. In my current predicament, however, it served only to drive Vane’s cock inside me deeper, and I broke off my attempt with a ragged moan as the sharp pleasure of it overwhelmed me.

I thought I heard the captain chuckle under the sound of my own cries. He scooped up my wrists and forced my hands up over my head, driving himself into me with more savage stabs.

The way I felt when Captain Vane overpowered me like that gave me all the answer to his question that I needed, my insides blooming and tingling all over again. I didn’t like making noises, did my best to keep these mewling wails quiet, but it was so hard to control myself underneath this.

“You like to feel me hold you down, don’t you?” Vane rumbled in my ear. His fingers flexed against my wrists, emphasizing how fully he had me pinned.

I did, but I still had a little fight left in me too. My mouth sought his for a kiss, scraping hard, then my teeth sank into his lip.

Vane growled into my mouth and jerked me up off the bed almost irritably. I kept my legs wrapped around him tight, an almost ornery urge leading me to try and confound his attempt to reposition me. But that only made it easier for him to scoop me completely off the mattress as he knelt up on the bed. He wasn’t satisfied just with that, however. His powerful arms secured me close as he stepped back onto the deck, then turned and slammed my back into the bulkhead wall. He pinned me there, my feet up in the air, and resumed fucking into me.

I thrilled at the strength of this man, though the angle was savage. “Mmm, yes,” I mewled against his cheek, “throw me around.”

He gave me a few more good hard thrusts against the wall before he spun me over to the table where we had so recently been playing cards. He removed his cock from me with shaking effort, only so that he could manhandle me around and bend me over the flat surface. My cheek pressed into the finely polished wood as his cock punctured me again, so thick that I still felt every last inch of him going in despite how stretched I had already become for him.

His deep voice rumbled in pleasure above me as he fucked as hard and fast as he wanted. I felt my body coiling around him, his tip slamming at an angle that awoke something dazzling deep inside me, and I wondered if he was going to make me feel that breaking point again. My throat squeezed out his name, over and over again, hoping he wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t shift, wouldn’t break this delic—

Another orgasm crashed over my senses, locking up every muscle in my body as I squealed through my teeth into the wood. Vane made a guttural sound in response, his rhythm stuttering. He pulled his length out of me and I sobbed at its loss, but understood why when something warm and wet started streaking along my back. I reveled at the evidence of his pleasure as my body still shook with my own.

I heard him sigh deeply, felt him draw his slick-tipped cock across the base of my spine. Then he leaned over me, dropping his forearm onto the table beside my face and then collapsing his head on top of it.

We panted in unison for a while, recovering from the intensity of it all. When Vane tilted his head to peek at me through disheveled strands of hair, his eyes were alight.

“I’m going to have to have you again.”

I sucked in a deep breath.

“Not immediately,” he clarified, his hand stroking up the clean part of my back, “but this was too good to be just once.”

“Better hope your luck holds in the next card game, then,” I teased. “Though I know, by the way, that luck had nothing to do with it.”

Vane smirked. “Can you blame me, with such a lovely prize on the table?”

I laughed, given that I was currently still laying, naked, on that very same table. Then I got serious. “I don’t like how it would look to the men, me fucking the captain. It changes things.”

Vane leaned in closer, until my whole world was his brilliant eyes, as blue as the bay at Nassau where we’d be arriving soon. “Then you’ll just have to get very good at being quiet.”

Captain Vane Masterlist

#charles vane #captain vane #charles vane imagine #black sails fanfic #black sails fic

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maadorii · 3 years

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JAS’S APPRECIATION .｡.:*♡

is it just me, or did this year really just flash by like nothing? haha but i think we can all agree that 2020 was... an interesting year. a lot of shit has happened this year, and i mean a lot. both personally and just from an overall standpoint. but i don’t want to focus on the negatives right now.

since i opened this blog, a lot of positive things have come my way. i never felt more confident in my writing and more welcomed in a community before until this blog came into existence. so i’d like to write some thank you notes to everyone who has impacted me this year! warning: it’s kinda long i guess lol

for my followers: how are you my lovelies? 🥺✨ i want to sincerely thank you from the bottom of my heart for following me and for giving my works a chance! im grateful to you all for giving my blog a chance and i promise to bring more works in 2021! a special thank you to those who come into my inbox, i love interacting with every single one of you and please continue to do so! i promise i don’t bite :) and a reminder, that if you’re ever in need of something or just someone to talk to, my dm’s and inbox are always open for to hop in. okay? i know, i don’t know the lot of you, but i still care for you and your well being. happy new year to you all!

to my moots, i just to say that i fucking love each and every single one of you 😡🤚🏻 call me crazy or something by i’ll legit jump in front of gun for you. and to me, that says a lot. and there some moots i have that i haven’t spoken to yet (im sowwy...) but seeing your reblogs, works, hell even shit post on my dash really do making my day better. i get super happy when one of you guys appear in my inbox. and the fact you all are super fucking talented and beautiful, it isn’t fair!! to my moots i haven’t spoken to yet or not much, my new years resolution is to show up in your inbox and say hi! i’m shy and my anxiety honestly takes over when i try to, so i’ll try my best !! @cherryonigiri + @introloves + @oikadiors + @obithoes + @skateme2yokohama

[@0ik6lut] sal!! potentially the loml! legit my first ever moot on here. i remember how i showed in your inbox on anon asking what a smau was 🗿 i lowkey felt really dumb but you reassured me and answered me honesty and i think that’s where i got hooked LMFAO it’s always a blast interacting with you cause you’re so funny! and from the bottom of my heart, thank you! not only have you brighten my days, you’ve also sent me sweet messages during my darkest times and for cheering me up. i’m eternally greateful for you and i love you 🧡

[@omijime] NINI! 🧡✨the other loml uwu. do you know how much i love you? your so crazy and i love you for that cause talking to you is such a fun time cause sometimes i don’t know where it’ll go. how we jump from one thing to another is insane but i wouldn’t have it any other way! i’d also like to thank you for being another person i can consolidate to when i’m down. oh btw, when are we gonna have this joint wedding 🙄 ? atsumu is getting antsy over here LMFAO

[@iwas-angel] pat!! i know you’ve been taking the rest you so deserve, but whenever you do come back i just want to let you know that i miss you! and that your literally a ray of sunshine ✨ love you pat 🥰

[@kemochie] nea!! i still can not get over your waluigi theme, shit was amazing. i was tempted to send a video of waluigi saying wah! for an hour... i still am. IWJSNWSN ANYWAY— i cant wait to interact with you more cause you’re so funny and chill. i still laugh at the bob duncan ask KASksk my sense of humor is so broken at this point, it’s depressing 🧍🏼‍♀️ but love you and your crazy shenanigans 🙄🤚🏻🧡

[@chqrryvelvet] kae! kae! kae! i remember one of our first interactions was saying i was a popular blog REEEE i only had maybe 25?? or 30?? so i definitely didn’t consider myself one haha but talking to you is always... an adventure to say the least! remember that one time we went back and forth about whether or not i gave you a hug or not? still leaves me in tears (especially cause i wrote you a whole paragraph 😡🗿) but i love you 🥰🧡 so where my hug at?

[@miyagoldenhour] my maya! another moot i haven’t spoken much too but i so deeply appreciate! you complemented my theme and my heart was sold 😂 even though i think your blog is way prettier than mine i can’t wait to see more from you and talk to you more!!

[@rilacry] lola! my fellow hinata lover 🤩 can i just say, that i was super excited to see another person who loves hinata as much as i do? and the fact that your insanely talented too ?? shiiii, i must’ve hit the jackpot here 😎🤏🏼 but in all seriousness, you’re super duper cool + amazing, i want us to be able to talk to each other more soon! in fact, tomorrow, i’ll send you ask :) if i forget you can come kick my butt, sound cool?

and as my final present to you, my moots, this year i dedicate this painting to each and every single one of you! you all are the stars in my night sky, i hope you’ll shine brighter this 2021. happy new year!

[i hope you guys like it! i wish i could’ve actually drawn you guys as people but i didnt want to invade 🥺👉🏻👈🏻!]

#—mi amors 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years

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One of His Little Toys

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Notes: I wrote this for my @starkerfestivals prison au bingo square! I’m stoked for you guys to see it & hope you enjoy <3 Word Count: ~4.6k Warnings: drug use, physical violence, daddy!kink, general things that happen in prison

Growing up in the heart of Chicago, Peter didn’t have much a choice of what happened in his life. Sure, he was smart – but that wasn’t how you survived in his neighborhood. People didn’t give a shit about an ability to do differential equations – clout was won with fists, guns, and the occasional drive by shooting. No one really understood the darkness of the gang life outside of his little sector of the world. The Cartel had a direct link to the Underworld in Chicago – and Peter got caught in the web at a pretty young age.

May tried to stop him, she really did. When he first brought Quentin back to the apartment so he could grab some things to get the hell out of dodge for a couple of days, May cornered him in his room, a heated look on her face. “What are you doing with him, Pete? I told you I’d talk to Del Mar – we can get you a job.” May said the same words she’d been repeating to him over and over again since he turned 18. He’d been lucky so far, not getting caught in the illicit affairs he let himself get lost in.

“May, stop. I’m going to be gone for a couple of days. I can’t work for Del Mar right now.” He slammed the last couple of things he needed into the bag in his hand and brushed past her – the usual kiss on the cheek replaced by discontent and the slightest bit of disdain. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.” Peter wondered how many people said that before bad shit happened to them.

Later that same night, Peter was standing on his usual corner with his new partner, Quentin Beck – the bosses second or third in command around the city. He’d been steadily working his way through the ranks throughout high school and now that he could be available whenever and wherever – they gave him the ultimate promotion. It felt weird at first, to have so much cash and product on him; but then again, Peter never really stopped feeling off about the whole thing since he got beat up into it more than four years ago.

Slipping a line of blow across the snuff box of his hand, Peter took a long inhale and let the powder enter his nasal cavity, the movement of the drug across his blood-brain barrier quick – the effects hit him straight in the chest only a moment or two later. It was his only bump for the night, he needed to keep alert for the busy time of the evening in a couple of hours. When the clubs closed, all of the little playthings would come crawling his way – the late-night hours still upon them.

The night went on like it usually did – he made a few transactions and talked shit with the guys while they stood around, waiting for the next batch of patrons to find their hidden corner of the world. Peter, despite his promise to himself, took another couple of bumps from the stash in his pocket, most of the night spent floating in that weird haze that made time speed up and slow down all at the same time.

Through the haze, Peter recognized the swirling red and blue lights of the cop car about a second too late. He tried to turn and run, his feet a little heavy from the drugs coursing through his system – but he tried, anyway. The four or five steps he took were not enough – all of the sudden, he was down on the ground with a knee in his back, his hands being pulled behind him. There wasn’t any use fighting it, so he turned his head into the concrete below him and let the officer do his thing.

Between the huge stack of money in his jacket pocket and the many, many, many baggies of cocaine, pills, and black balloons in his pants pocket, there was way more than enough to put him away. There wouldn’t be a crying May bailing him out for the fifth time – not after this one. Sucking in a deep breath, Peter waited impatiently in his holding cell; they liked to drag out this process, his previous experiences adding up to so many days sitting in this exact precinct waiting for something – anything to happen.

His stint in court was pretty quick – Peter knew not to name any names or talk about what he knew – so he took his sentencing and waved a handcuffed goodbye in May’s direction when they walked him out. He might as well get used to only seeing her from that distance – 10 years would be a long time to only see her through the partition in the meeting rooms.

The whole processing system of actually getting into the prison took longer than his court appearances. He was used to the bend, squat, and cough – so he blissfully got to put his orange jumpsuit on without further hassle. He thought about all the dumb fucks that came through here and caused a fuss – those people just begging for trouble. Peter knew enough to know the last thing he wanted to do was go sniffing around for anything that looked remotely like a problem. It was imperative to get in there, keep his head down, and find people that weren’t going to shank him when he wasn’t looking.

All in a single day’s work, he thought – a sadistic smile on his face.

His first night was spent in a temporary cell – the big guys that were waiting to be sorted just like him didn’t scare him, but he gave up the top bunk to a grunting man who eyed him up when he demanded; Peter wasn’t going to be sleeping much, anyway. He kept his eyes open and his brain active for the entire night – if he was going to get pulled him his bed, at least he’d be ready for it.

Luckily, the first night went pretty well and he got pulled into a double room later the next afternoon. When he was walked into the cell by a guard, the other side was empty – the protocol of separating the prisoners a little moot once Peter settled into his side of the room. Who was he to argue with the bull shit of this place? The guard gave him a once over before unlocking his cuffs and stepping out.

Sitting down on the flat mat that would serve as his mattress for the rest of the time here, Peter watched the guard bring in his roommate. The man was older, his temples were struck through with white hair. There was a vertical scar across his right cheek that led up to smooth bourbon colored eyes and long eyelashes. His tongue peaked out and trailed across his lip, the older man watching Peter watch him.

At first glance, the man did not scream criminal. He wiggled his eyebrows and smiled at Peter while the guard undid his cuffs, then turned around and flipped him off when the door was closed and locked. “Thanks a bunch, Clint!” he shouted, his hands gripping the bars for a moment. Taking a deep breath, Peter braced himself – this initial interaction would more than likely set the tone for the rest of their relationship sharing this confined space.

When the man did turn around, Peter was struck by just how good all of those features looked together. He wasn’t tall, but there was a presence to him – his arms seemed well defined in the white jumpsuit this block wore. He crossed his fingers that this guy wasn’t some fucking psychopath, because he could easily see himself getting tangled up in whatever his roommate had to offer. A scary thought for not even knowing his name.

Without any preamble, the guy held a hand out between them, a smirk on his face. “Tony Stark,” he remarked confidently, his eyes glued to Peter. Knowing a challenge when he saw it, Peter slipped his hand into Tony’s. Though they were a little smaller than his own, Tony’s hands were rough, callouses riddling his palm and fingers.

“I’m Peter. Parker. Peter Parker,” he mumbled out, his cheeks heating up. What the hell was happening to him? All of the sudden it felt like his tongue was twenty pounds heavier than just a minute ago, his heart hammering against his chest. Gripping Tony’s hand tightly for another second, Peter pulled back – a guarded look on his face.

“You’re awfully young to be in a place like this, Peter Parker. What did a pretty thing like you do?” Tony asked, the customary ‘what’s your charge’ question was one he still wasn’t used to answering. It never occurred to him just how fucked up his life got until he uttered his drug charges – possession with the intention to distribute. The rabbit hole he let himself fall down was a big one.

Peter took a seat on his excuse for a bed again, his legs swinging crisscross applesauce in front of him like the literal child that he was. “Possession and distribution. All the hard stuff.” He shrugged his shoulders, irritable fingers picking at the snag at the end of his jumpsuit. “I’m not that young. Old enough to be here, anyway,” Peter muttered, his tone coming off a little petulant. At 18, he was old enough to spend the next decade of his life locked away – he felt old enough to not be called young anymore, too.

Tony threw his hands up in mock surrender, the smirk on his face growing a little. “I should have known. You have drugged up twink written all over you. Me, I liked to steal really expensive shit. Kind of a brainy criminal, if you will,” Tony stated. He smiled wide, like the Cheshire Cat, his eyes glowing a little. “Got any brains in that head of yours?” Tony took a step toward him then, his hand tapping on the middle of Peter’s forehead.

Simply rolling with it, Peter nodded his head – his eyes dropping a little bit. Something in him said to get on this guy’s good side. Part of it was his natural urge to submit to beautiful older men like Tony. He let Quentin walk him into a trap because he liked the lines around his eyes and the delectable way he could give Peter just enough to keep him coming back for more. His true druggy nature getting in the way of clear thought. Not this time, though – this was conscious and premeditated. To survive in here, he needed people on his side.

“Yes sir,” he finally responded, his chest tightening when he heard Tony take in a deep gulp of air. So, he’d chosen correctly. His lips slipped into the slightest of smiles, his instinct finally leading him in the right direction for once.

A palm cupped his cheek and tilted his head up, the man’s eyes catching his own. Peter saw heat there – brown pools quickly being swarmed by the black of his eye. Tony caressed his cheek softly, the touch a total contrast to the look on his face. Then, he pulled his hand back and slapped him – the echo of it making his teeth grind. “We’ll see, Peter Parker. We’ll see.”

Peter kept close to Tony throughout the rest of the day. Their cell doors opened a couple of hours later, guards stepping in to put them in cuffs and walk them out to the yard where they’d get a bit of fresh air. Out of all the experiences he’d ever had in jail, this one – the yard and all the vulnerability that came with being out in the open for most of the block population to see (and attack) – always made him nervous.

He quickly found he had nothing to fear, however. It wasn’t hard to see that the man he was with carried a sort of clout that only long-time crooks and murders could obtain. People looked away unless he was speaking to them and when he did, they gave him their full attention. Keeping his own eyes down, Peter was surprised to find them stopped in front of a cluster of guys sitting on some of the picnic benches just outside the cages around the gym.

“Guys – this is Pete.” He pushed at Peter’s arm, the movement thrusting him a little closer to the group. “Pete here says he’s smart. So he’s good with us until he stops being smart. Got it?” Tony looked at each of them, their heads nodding without a singular argument. Not for the first time since experiencing Tony’s raucous and completely intoxicating energy, Peter wondered what the actual fuck this guy was all about.

Either way, he didn’t question it. The group was large enough to have a perimeter around him at all times and they all seemed to do whatever Tony told them. As long as he was smart – which he wasn’t quite sure what that meant yet – he could count on the protection of the group of misfits that were gathered around his roommate like he was the actual messiah.

Peter quickly came to learn that Tony was the brains behind many operations within the prison. Since the older man’s duty was in the kitchen, he had access to delivery vehicles – which smuggled in products of interest for the other prisoners.

There was a pretty elaborately interwoven mechanism of distribution and payment that made Peter’s head spin thinking about it. He bit into his lip when Tony took him through it all, the massive amount of information that Tony kept in his head overwhelming.

He didn’t need to wonder about what being smart meant for long. It shouldn’t have surprised him that Tony picked up on his submission, the way he called him sir – hell, the way he followed him around like a puppy. It wasn’t hard to see it in his eyes, the want that fueled him where Tony was concerned. When the older man eventually came to collect, Peter didn’t hesitate or struggle. Their lips met in a hot kiss, a hot moan slipping from Peter’s lips. Tony tore away and pressed the side of his face against Peter’s.

“Fuck, you moan so pretty. But you have to keep it down for daddy, do you understand? The guards are only going to tolerate so much shit. And I plan to make you howl when I slam my cock inside of you,” Tony muttered, the words close enough to his ear that every one of them sent a tingle down his spine – the warm breath a swift contrast to the cool temperature in the cell.

He felt Tony reach down and grab him through his jumpsuit, his cock already rock hard. Biting into his lip, Peter stopped himself from yelping, the heat in his core already starting to overflow. Another hard squeeze had him standing right at the precipice – his body a total traitor. Tony huffed out a laugh, then covered Peter’s lips with his own. “Be a good boy and cum for daddy,” he whispered pulling away from the kiss a couple minutes later.

As if he would try to fight against that request – biting down harder on his lip, Peter felt himself cum in the only pair of boxers he’d been allowed. Tasting blood on his tongue made the haze he fell into even better, and he slumped against the wall bonelessly. Tony gave him all of a minute to recover before he was grabbing at him, hands tight on his shoulders.

“Get on your knees,” the older man demanded, his voice low and gravely – the tone one that didn’t leave room for any sort of questioning or argument. He slipped down to the hard floor and waited for Tony’s next instruction.

The rustling of clothes had him looking up, his eyes catching the bare flesh of his stomach before it was gone. Tony pulled himself out of his pants just enough to press his bare cock against Peter’s mouth.

“Open up, baby boy,” Tony murmured, his jaw already slack from the cold air across his sensitive flesh.

Opening his mouth, Peter took Tony in, the older man feeding him his dick – inch by inch. Tony kept a tight grasp at the base and let his hips tip forward to slip the length down Peter’s throat. He wasn’t the most experienced person in the world, but he learned how to breathe through his nose pretty quickly – Tony’s length impressive, despite his shorter stature. As the tip of Tony’s cock pressed against his throat, Peter felt himself drool down his chin, thick tears starting to collect in his eyes.

Tony’s hand moved from his dick to the back of Peter’s head and kept him there – his nostrils flaring as he tried to catch his breath. The hand stayed there for what felt like another year before fingers were tangling in his long curls and pulling his head away – a string of spit alive and well between his mouth and the tip of Tony’s cock. Gasping in a deep breath, Peter barely had time to wipe his chin before his throat was being assaulted again.

The older man took what he wanted until his hips started to stutter. Tony pulled back then, his eyes completely glazed – the look in them a little scary. His hand tightened in Peter’s hair and yanked until he was rising to his feet to ease some of the tension on the strands. The tip of his tongue played with the bite marks on his lip – the stimulus enough to stave off the sudden heat slamming into his chest.

“Turn around and drop your pants,” Tony grumbled, his cheeks flushed and lips moist from the man running his tongue over them.

Peter did what he was told – his head dropping against the concrete of the wall, Tony’s body immediately pressing him flush against it. Fingers were pressed into his mouth a rough “suck” being mumbled against the back of his neck. Tony nibbled and bit on the skin there, his teeth digging into the flesh when he managed to pull enough of it into his mouth.

Wrapping his lips around the digits, Peter sucked them into his mouth as far as they would go – the angle of his head turned not the easiest to manage. Knowing this was probably the only lubrication he was going to get, he laved at them with his tongue liberally. He felt like a fish off the hook when Tony pulled his fingers away.

There wasn’t much warning before one finger was against his rim, the tip rubbing the tight muscle for just a second before breaching – the slide a little dry, but the burn just right. He’d always gotten off on a little pain with his pleasure, so he marveled in it.

The drag of two fingers was even better and before he knew it, Tony was spitting into his hand, fingers gone and replaced with a blunt cock head. Rough hands on his shoulders pulled him back as Tony thrust forward, the stretch pulling a moan out of his throat that he couldn’t hold in – no matter how hard he tried.

“That’s right, baby. Moan for me. Tell daddy how much you like it,” Tony babbled, his words enhanced by the sharp thrusts in and out of his stretched hole. It felt a little raw, the drag back and forth – yet, Tony’s cock hitting his prostate was more than enough to make up for it. Tony reached around and gripped his cock with a tight hand, his strokes timing nicely with the roll of his hips.

Slipping over the edge was sudden, Peter tossing his head back a bit to let out a rough groan – his muscles clenched tight and every pulse of cum drawn from him felt like pure liquid fire. A rough bite on his neck signaled Tony’s release a moment later, the man’s hips slamming into him hard and staying there, the pulse of the man’s cock pulling another long moan from Peter’s lips.

Lips on his neck pulled him out of his orgasm induced haze – the press of Tony’s facial hair against the skin there making him shutter. “That’s a good boy,” Tony mumbled, his hands gripping Peter tight around the middle. With one more tiny thrust, the older man pulled out – a gruff gasp leaving his lips. “Fuck,” Peter heard, a small smile slipping across his lips.

If that’s what Tony wanted in return for protecting him – Peter was more than happy to oblige.

Things stayed pretty regular for a couple of months. Peter joined Tony in the kitchen, his brain a perfect addition to the already masterfully run plan. Without the drugs in his system, Peter could think much clearer. He contributed a lot to Tony’s already impressive plans – the man praising him on near constant basis, sometimes more than one time a day if they were lucky enough to catch a few private moments. It wasn’t like being on the outside, but it wasn’t too bad, either.

Of course, things always get bad when complacency sets in. He’d been absentmindedly sitting at their usual table in the mess when the rival group’s leader sat down across from him. Peter kept his head down and continued to eat. His break was only a few minutes and he wasn’t about to pass up the corn – it was one of the only good things in the whole damn place. Steve cleared his throat a couple of times before Peter looked up at him, a blank look on his face.

“What can I do for your, Rogers?” Peter asked, his voice dry, dull – the pitch of it like he was bored, or something. Tony told him not to engage with the man, they’d been friends or partners at one point, but things went south. The older man didn’t give details and Peter didn’t ask. He simply looked up and tilted his head, the utensil they were allowed gripped tightly in his hand.

“I just wanted to have a little conversation. It’s not often someone comes in and charms the pants off of Tony Stark. Thought I’d get to know a little more about you.” His leer made Peter want to jump out of his seat – the look one that Quill used to throw at him when he’d meet up with him for fill-ups. He didn’t like it then and he sure as hell didn’t like it now. The hair on his neck stood up, his mouth suddenly tongue tied.

A strong hand wrapped around his neck before he could get any words out, the touch immediately recognizable – “He’s not interested, Rogers. As a matter of fact, you sitting in front of him is offending the fuck out of him, isn’t it, Pete?” Tony gripped his neck tightly, his fingers squeezing enough to have Peter tilting his head back a little, eyes wide as he looked at him.

“Yes sir,” he answered swiftly, brown eyes never leaving Tony.

He heard a scoff across the table and felt the whole thing move a little when Steve got up from it. Peter tilted his head down and watched him square up towards Tony, a bunch of emotions tumbling across his eyes in a flash. “You can’t protect him forever, Stark. I’ll find a way to bring you down.” Steve held Tony’s gaze for a moment longer, then turned around and stalked back to his own table, his cronies immediately circling around him.

Tony took a seat next to him and gripped his cheeks. It wouldn’t be long before a guard yelled at him to drop his hands and break apart, so he spoke quickly. “Don’t engage him again. Do you hear me? Rogers is trouble and you’re a target because of me.” His thumbs brushed over Peter’s cheeks quickly, the show of affection rare, especially out in the open like this. Peter blinked a couple of times and nodded, his head in a billion different directions. The small bubble of safety he’d been so immersed in suddenly felt close to popping, his heart slamming against his chest in fear for just a moment.

“I hear you, Tony. I won’t. Promise.” Peter knew the words were true, too. His only desire was to make it out of this alive. At this point in time, Tony offered him the most protection and he wasn’t stupid enough to step outside of it. Clint banged his baton against the edge of their table, effectively pulling them apart. “Hands to yourselves, gentleman,” the guard said, a quirk in his lip as he spoke.

He had that same look on his face when he stepped away from the entrance to the showers a little while later. Peter didn’t hear Bucky until his face was thrumming from the first punch. His foot slipped on the shower floor below him and he hit the tiles hard, his right side protesting his weight. He felt feet slam into his chest and stomach, the lower part of his back and his legs. Curling up into a ball, Peter tried to keep himself as small as possible, the less surface area for them to hit, the less impact he’d have to deal with.

They stopped when he physically couldn’t struggle any longer – all of his limbs like jelly now that the ache and throb of all of his injuries made him feel numb. It took way too long for him to sit up and when Clint eventually came back to his post by the door, he radioed in the incident with a disastrous look on his face. Peter would’ve scowled at him if his eyes weren’t swollen shut.

His stay in the hospital was brief, the stitches on the side of his cheek the worst of the damage. All of the bruises would have to heal on their own, the purple and yellow of them going to be there for a while, if the physician they let him see was to be believed. He got released between mess and yard time, so he stumbled behind his guard until he could see his cell, the place feeling like coming home after 36 hours in nothing but white, his arms and legs strapped to a bed.

The second the new guard on the block, Bruce, left him in the cell, Tony flew off the bed and pulled Peter into his arms. He held back the wince from Tony’s too tight grip, the feeling of the older man’s hands was worth the throb of the bruises that littered his body. Peter let his arms drape loosely around Tony’s hips, his entire being tired – his limbs were beaten, his brain was all over the place; all he wanted to do was lay on the hard mat of his bed and slip into oblivion for a while.

Tony must have noticed because he dragged Peter to his side of the room and followed him onto the bed. Peter rolled towards the wall and shut his eyes, the ability to be in any position other than on his back a true godsend. He felt Tony’s scruff brush against the back of his neck, then heavy arms pulled him until he was pressed against the older man’s chest.

“I took care of it, Pete. No one is ever going to touch you again. No one.” Tony’s voice was gruff, despite not raising above a whispered.

“You’re mine and no one touches what’s mine.”

#starkerfestivalsevents #starker #ironspider #peter parker/tony stark #tony stark/peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #au prompts #prison au #bobbie writes #fics #fan fics

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autumnslance · 4 years

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((Free Day for FFXIV Write 2020, a WIP I’ve dithered on for awhile. Early Stormblood; follows the "Foibles" prompt’s events. Below the cut for those who prefer Tumblr to Ao3.))

Rhalgr’s Reach slowly recovered from the assault as the days passed. The bodies had been buried and all rites given, the living granted their too-brief time to mourn. Now came clearing the rubble, repairing what could be repaired, and somehow finding replacements for what could not.

Recruitment and morale were low, but Conrad and M’naago hoped to make steady progress while working with the Alliance forces, as even the token victories managed before the assault had aided their cause considerably. The Imperials, for their part, seemed content to allow the Eorzeans to have the East End and much of the lower Fringes, secure as the enemy was in Castrum Velodyna.

Krile, Arenvald, and a few other junior Scions continued to lend their aid to the efforts, even as they prepared to escort the worst injured back across the border to Gridania once they were well enough to travel. Y’shtola would continue on to Mor Dhona to recover in the comfort of the Rising Stones and take her turn as the senior Scion in the Toll; Thancred was now in the Reach, since she was injured and their comrades headed to the Far East.

Thancred’s mopey thoughtfulness since arriving in Gyr Abania had not been lost on Y’shtola, and she resolved to draw the cause out of him before she left. It would not do to have their senior representative in a surly mood at this critical juncture. The next opportunity presented itself not two days before she was scheduled to leave.

“What exactly is the problem now?” Y’shtola asked as Thancred entered her little sectioned-off “room” in the Barber to deliver her tea, then dropped onto the floor between the bed and the chair she currently inhabited, as he sighed heavily.

“So grouchy. Do you also require your medication?”

“No. And I am not ‘grouchy’. You obviously wish to discuss something.”

“It is not that I mind aiding the war efforts here in Gyr Abania,” he said with no further preamble. “I am simply missing people, with so many now off to the Far East. Having you ready to return to Mor Dhona seems to have sharpened that feeling somehow.”

“I am terribly sorry my recovery is inconvenient to your mood,” she said as she sipped her tea. He had remembered exactly the right amount of honey and cream.

“That is not what I meant and you know it,” Thancred said, settling onto his back, hands behind his head as he looked up at the ceiling.

“I am merely waiting for you to arrive at the point.”

“Remember when we were all still back in the Waking Sands, and I was rather foolishly pining after certain colleagues?”

“No,” she said, as acerbic as possible. He glanced up and caught her smile. “It only happened often enough to make keeping track difficult,” Y’shtola teased. Then she grew serious. “Except perhaps in one instance, where so far as I can tell, you never truly stopped pining.”

He winced and looked back at the ceiling. “You don’t miss much. Though I like to think I was managing my boyish infatuation and simply enjoying having so good a friend as Aeryn has turned out to be. I honestly expected nothing more, and I know there was...another interest.”

Y’shtola nodded. She had not known Lord Haurchefant well, but what she recalled was entirely favorable. She had returned from the Lifestream after the man’s sacrifice, but had heard much from Alphinaud and Tataru.

“I thought,” Thancred continued. “On my return from the wilderness, that much had changed for both of us. We practically had to learn how to be friends all over again. We sorted it out, however, and talked--about Minfilia, Lord Haurchefant, and others.”

“And you find your ‘boyish infatuation’ renewed?”

“No,” he said flatly. Her ear flicked at the seriousness of his tone. “I know those; they are often fleeting things, much as I enjoy that time and company. Or, did; I’ve not experienced such since...well, since before our Lifestream mishap, actually. Oh, I have spent a night or two sating physical desire with willing company, but it is...less satisfying, after everything.”

“Don’t tell me you have become celibate.”

He laughed. “Perish the thought! But it’s not as much of a priority anymore. For one, events do not always afford the time. But mostly because...There is only one person I am truly interested in, but she is--so far as I know--not interested in me.”

“You just said your infatuation had not returned.”

“It has not,” he replied. “I have been examining the situation, and have come to a new conclusion.”

“Oh?”

“I believe I am...perhaps...falling for her,” Thancred said quietly, reluctantly.

Hearing him say what she had long suspected was somehow still surprising. It was not that he had never fallen in love before--Y’shtola had been present for those few affairs, as both critic and support--but it was exceedingly rare that he allowed himself such a luxury; she had seen him too often sabotage his own relationships, usually due to his own deep-rooted feelings of inadequacy hidden behind his charming smiles and sarcastic wit. The man had only recently developed the capacity--or perhaps more accurately, the willing vulnerability--for the deeper levels of communication required to maintain longer term relationships with an intimate partner. Perhaps that contributed to this realization; Y’shtola knew he and Aeryn had been speaking more.

She also knew a few things Aeryn had confided to her, when seeking a viewpoint with more maturity and experience than Lyse or Tataru could offer.

This was going to be tricky; neither of these dear, swiving idiots would say anything to the other if not nudged--or outright shoved--in the proper direction. Luckily for them, they had both chosen her as a confidante.

“Have you asked her if she is interested?” Y’shtola asked.

He frowned, his uncovered eye turning to her. “I know she does not care for intimate relations--”

“And yet, she has had some form of intimate relationships,” Y’shtola pointed out. “That she does not look at others and feel such attraction does not preclude a want for intimacy--including physical, in some cases. In any event, it does not mean one wants to be without close companionship.” She paused to take another sip from her cup while he thought. “If she is willing for something other than friendship, then she can set boundaries and communicate what she is able to give. ‘Tis a matter of respect and patience, which I know you fully capable of.” She leaned over, careful of her slowly healing injuries. “And I will not hear excuses that you are not ‘good enough’ for the Warrior of Light, Thancred.”

“Gods, I must be in a state, if you are being kind,” he smiled up at her fondly.

She smiled back and reached down her free hand; he took it and gave her a gentle squeeze. “I’m a bit surprised, however, that you have no words of warning about entertaining such notions with a colleague,” he said.

Now he was looking for a reasonable out; she wasn’t about to give it to him. “I trust that to be something you have already considered yourself, and part of the reluctance to admit to these feelings,” Y'shtola answered as she let go of his hand and sat back again. “Denying your heart will do no favors for your working relationship, either; it must be confronted and discussed like reasonable adults.”

Not that her friends were reasonable, but they could at least pretend for a time she mused as she sipped more tea.

“‘Tis a moot point at the moment, you know,” he said. “She is in the East. It shall be moons before they’re all back.”

“Then we shall have to keep you from stewing over the matter too much in the meantime,” Y’shtola replied lightly. “And if your feelings have not changed by the time our colleagues do return to us, then you shall have even less excuse to not speak with the woman.”

“Logical as ever. Thank you, Shtola.”

“You’re welcome, Thancred. Now, will you get off my floor?” She set aside her empty tea cup.

“But it’s cool and actually fairly comfortable. I think I wore myself out running Arenvald through his paces earlier. The boy’s come a long way and has far too much enthusiasm for sparring practice.”

“Thancred, please; I wish to nap.”

“I’m not stopping you,” he replied cheekily, hands behind his head again, a faint smirk on his lips as he closed his eyes.

Y’shtola sighed--exaggerating a tad, perhaps--and carefully, slowly, moved from the chair, giving him only a light kick in the ribs as a formality. He playfully grunted at her tap, otherwise not moving, as she lay down carefully in her bed.

She was not sure if he actually intended to sleep as well, or was simply using her room for the companionable silence and safety from Resistance officers and enthusiastic sparring partners it offered. No matter; she did not truly mind his presence--he knew she had fewer nightmares of Zenos (helm looming over her, cold voice taunting before the world shattered, leaving her drowning in her own blood) when another was near--and if Thancred sought his own form of comfort, she could not begrudge him that when their fellow Scions were ever so far away.

The pair slept, keeping each other company.

#Final Fantasy XIV #Lyn Writing #Stormblood #Thancred Waters #Y'shtola Rhul #Thancred x WoL #shippy nonsense #pre-relationship #Aeryn Striker

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jjba-hell · 3 years

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Fate and Fortune

Part 11

Here’s Part 10 but hop on the Fate and Fortune tag for the rest

Second week of 2021 and I’m straight up not having a good time ✌︎('ω')✌︎- I hated the original piece so ended up re-writing it so uhhh good luck with this piece (really not a favorite for me)

For my moots: @fyre23 and @risottoneroo

Content warning: none in particular, just a SLEEZY Steely Dan

The tarot cards laid out before her two stacks- the ones whose stands who are known and those are not. Mr Joestar had politely asked for a reading- wondering if Hermit Purple could help him choose the card Dio’s stand held.

Vera didn’t say it quite off the bat from asking but she had her money in The World- simply because that was the end of their journey as a group was heading- to Dio. It had seemed almost poetic when thorny vines wrapped around the World card. Joseph thanks her for the reading and proceeded ahead to grab some food. So with that, she slid the deck back together and as she rose back up on her feet a quiet whisper over her ear brought her plans of walking back to the others to an abrupt end. “So- this is what Enya’s killer looks like? I suppose I have to thank you, Dio’s faith in her servitude was wavering.”

Vera craned her neck to take a look at the owner of the voice behind her- somewhat handsome if not marred by the godawful sneer plastered over his ear.

“Got some guts coming after me directly, don’t you think?”

Fortune materialized behind the man, Vera taking his moment of surprise to step out from his looming stance over her shoulder. “Got a name, jackass?”

“Dan, Steely Dan. My stand represents the lovers.” He said almost as if he expected her to know who he was. “Now that you know my name and I have most certainly heard more than my fair share about you- join me for a coffee? Just across the street.”

Vera’s scowl only seemed to worsen at the offer. “For what?”

“For taking care of Enya for me, of course. It truly does make my life so much easier.”

She didn’t trust this weasel as far as she could see him and she was convinced the others might smell something was up soon enough but until then she’d have to deal with it- maybe she could manage some information out of this bastard.

“Fine then- let’s talk.” She dematerialized Fortune back and with her hands back into her jean pockets, she followed.

Unsurprisingly two cups of coffee were already set on the table outside the shop. “How hospitable of you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you knew I was going to take your offer.”

Steely Dan brought his cup to his lips. “Rest assured, I’d never allow any harm to come over a stunning creature such as yourself.”

Vera sat back, bringing a cigarette to her lips. “I’m a bit young for you, aren’t I?” She sneered- the slight twitch in his right eye enough to get a chuckle out of her. “Besides, no matter how pretty I am, doesn’t change the fact that I am, essentially, your enemy.”

“What can I say? Birds of a feather flock together.”

She laughed, watching the others approach her from across the street. About time.

“My, my- your vanity that important to you? How about we cut to the chase, Dan? What do you want?”

Dan leaned in over his edge of the table, folding his arms in front of him. “Surely that’s an easy answer- I’m here to destroy your little group- one by one.”

Uttered just in time for the others to hear.

“And what exactly makes you so confident you stand a chance against five of us?” Polnareff was one to speak first.

The simpering laugh he have made Vera’s blood boil. This guy really thought he trumped them somehow. “Simply put, none of you can lay a hand on me.”

Vera flipped her cigarette between her fingers and pressed the hot coal into the top of his right hand. He flinched away angrily fanning his hand before balling it into a fist and swinging her way. She held her hand up to grab his wrist as a block but Star got him first- sending him....and Mr Joestar flying back.

She ran to Joseph to help him back up again- her mind running furiously to connect why he flew back? Was it a fluke?

When Mr Joestar’s breathing started laboring, her gaze shot towards Jotaro with his grip on Steely Dan.

“Jotaro, stop.”

He shot her one glance over the shoulder before relaxing his grip- Joseph’s breathing evening out a bit.

She looked up at the sleeze ball Dan and scowled- “Your stand, the lovers. You’re interconnected with it aren’t, you?”

“A good start. Doesn’t explain how Mr Joestar’s getting hurt though, does it?” He taunted.

Vera thought about it for a moment, trying to piece together why only Joseph would be targeted. It had to be a choice- he’d pick the seemingly weakest one who couldn’t take the beating.

“The niche of it I’ll yield on but it seems whatever you experience, your stand deals to your target.”

That same sickly smile spread over his lips. “Good looks and good brains- not that the latter matters very much.”

Jotaro grabbed hold of the bastard’s collar again, threatening to kill him too quick for it to hurt. Fortune’s dials moved back quietly over Joseph’s injuries- unable to revert back to the state it was in before the stand but maybe just before the punch. “So... how are you making this work, Dan?”

Somehow knowing more did nothing for her to come up with a plan but when the bastard started making a scene with Jotaro- rock in hand- she started to worry. Vera moved closer to where Jotaro had to be held back by the other two men- when Dan brought the rock up over his shoulder to swing at Jotaro’s head she simply had Fortune snatch it out of his hand.

“Tch, how primitive.” She grabbed hold of Kakyoin’s wrist, pulling him away from the scuffle. “I think you know what to do- I’ll make sure this cuck doesn’t do anything stupid.”

The corners of Kakyoin’s mouth twitched a bit before he and Joseph took off down the street- shortly followed my Polnareff.

“Oh, I see... you think you could exploit a range weakness.”

She didn’t answer, taking a moment to stand beside Jotaro whose jaw was painfully clenched.

“No matter. Since you two will be following me around for a day.” She figured he’d pull the move, fucking sleezeball. He grabbed hold of one of her belt loops and pulled her flush to his side. He threw an arm over her shoulder and started walking.

Jotaro- simmering behind them, followed. “Admittedly, you’re pretty even when you scowl but I think a smile would suit you better, wouldn’t it?”

Steely Dan’s hand wrapped around her jaw, making her look at him- the disdain on her face still evident. She figured he’d threaten her with his own pain, or rather Mr Joestar’s, so she swallowed her pride for a moment and forced a smile.

He let her go completely as they reached the drainage ditch- turning towards Jotaro to instruct him to act as the bridge. “Didn’t take you as the lazy kind, Dan. Surely a physique like yours is earned”, she tried so hard not to say the last bit but she just couldn’t resist. “Especially at your age, walking must be the best way to get that exercise in.”

Once again- the comment made his eye twitch and as penance his leg swung into the pillar. Fortune moved too quick though and moved him just enough to slip and fall on his ass.

Once again, she swallowed her pride and came to his aid- helping him back up on his feet, that sickly sweet smile plastered to her face.

“Oh come now, I’m just teasing. Nothing wrong with being just a little playful, is there?”

He squinted at her in disbelief, as he should, taking her hand regardless and walking past her to address Jotaro. “Troublesome woman- someone should have beat that out of you. It might just end up being me.”

She wrapped her hand around Jotaro’s clenched fist, just long enough for him to relax a bit until Steely Dan gave his next request.

Vera didn’t dare follow Dan, she simply phased herself to the other side of the ditch Jotaro was stretched over- a trick she knew would tip fortune out of her favor for a while but she didn’t care.

“Oh? You actually followed me?” Dan taunted as she bent down to help Jotaro into the other side and fix any of the damages he caused. She didn’t answer him though.

“Tch. Very well.”

“That fuck is going to wish he were never born.” She growled through gritted teeth. Jotaro gazed up at her, the same anger in his eyes.

His hand moved up, almost looking like it was going to cup her face but instead it moved to grab a strand of her hair.

“That move cost you.” He commented as she peered down at the grey strand. Vera was used to moving Fortune forward and back to her will but because she could only move her own forward she noticed little changes like longer nails or outgrown hair a bit too often for her to rule out that other people’s fate didn’t affect her.

The gray hair however... she suppose that was due to the shock her system had been given the past few days. “Doesn’t matter.” She rose up again, taking his hand in hers. “Come on- he’s gonna get up to something I swear.”

They followed after like obedient dogs- both Jotaro and Vera’s patience growing painfully thin. From back scratching to shoe shining- Vera stood between Jotaro and whatever onslaught of petty jabs at Jotaro he could throw. Jotaro’s torture was physical for sure but the scathing comments thrown at Vera had her fingers itch for his neck under her grip.

She angrily wrenched his hand from the hem of her jeans- gritting her teeth as she hissed. “Reach into my jeans one more fucking time and I’ll-“

“You’ll what, dollface?”

“I’ll make what I did to Enya tané in comparison to what I’ll do to you.”

“Oh is that a threat?”

“A promise, motherfucker.”

He shrugged her off, her blood boiling more with every step she has to watch him walk away. “Let me make it up to you, Vera. I’ll treat you to some jewelry...”

It was trouble from the second she stepped into the shop after him- looking at nothing in particular except the back of his neck right in front of her. When it was Jotaro holding the bracelet, it was the only time she couldn’t stop him from getting hurt.

Outside the shop he slipped a gaudy gold necklace around her neck and soon as he finished clasping the thing she phased straight out of it, letting it fall to the ground.

She only gave one look at the piece of jewelry laying on the ground and then up at him. “Suits you better, looks cheap.” Fortune moved towards Jotaro to start on his injuries- Dan thinking he could take a hit on her but once again missing poorly.

“Y’know- I can’t tell when no one’s ever used their own fists to fight their way out.” She gazed over her shoulder at him. “My dodges are slow and the fact that you can’t hit me says a lot. A bit too comfortable with your stand if you ask me.”

As if on qeue, Dan’s frown soon turned bloody. Kakyoin must’ve gotten a hit on the jackass’s stand.

Relieved, Vera reached into Jotaro’s jacket pocket for a cigarette and the notebook he’d been working on. She scribbled down the shit he’d said to her and then closed the book- handing it back to him.

“You’ll take care of this one for me, yeah?”

“You going to check up on the other three?”

“Yeah, best not avoid any brain damage your grandfather could have suffered from the extraction.”

Jotaro nodded- Dan’s begging getting louder as she walked away. She figured it best to let him handle it-moving her own fortune forward was never good and she had the right idea to do so since no sooner she turned a corner down an alleyway did a door slam open and give her a bloody nose.

BONUS:

“You can take a lot of verbal abuse, huh?”

Jotaro had muttered at her as she laid her head on his chest. The night was too young and too hot for them to be touching too much.

“And you can take a lot of physical abuse, what’s your point?”

He gave a huff, of laughter or frustration she wasn’t sure. “You shouldn’t.”

“I don’t. I just don’t deal with it the same as you.” She lifted her head a bit to get more hair out from under her head. “I’m much rather humiliate them before I just punch them.”

“Where’d you pick up that trick?”

She laughed, “Boarding school, unsurprisingly.” She put on her best British posh voice. “A lady’s hands must never draw the blood of her enemies.”she shrugged, laughing at her own impression. “So when you can’t throw hands- violence comes some other way.”

Jotaro only hummed, bringing the little ice pack they’d bought back to her. She took it and gracelessly held it against her nose which had turned violently blue the first few hours.

“I’m sorry.”

The phrase came out of the blue for her but she looked him head on regardless, “For what?”

“Dragging you along.”

She shook her head- “I’m sorry to tell you JoJo but I’m as much after saving Holy as I am avenging my parents-“

The mere word made he zone out, or just become quiet in the conversation.

So he wrapped is arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer, letting the doe eyed glare in her eyes clear up a bit before starting the conversation a new.

“She’s not dealing with it well.” Kakyoin sighed, leaning against the hotel balcony railing as Jotaro smoked. “I understand why she’s doing it but I don’t think she processed what she felt back there.”

Jotaro only nodded, swallowing a heavy lump in his throat as he straightened. “She’s been acting off, I’d be lying if I said I’m worried.”

Kakyoin sighed, unfolding his arms over his chest before doing the same. “All we can do is hope that Avdol might know what to tell her.”

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo part 3 #jotaro kujo #muhammed avdol #joseph joestar #Noriaki Kakyoin #Jean Pierre Polnareff #OC content #OC Vera #fate and fortune

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bubblyani · 4 years

Text

Deeper Relations: 09

(Freddie Jackson x Reader)

A Freddie Jackson Multi Chapter Series

Chapter 09: The Reveal

Rating: Mature (18+)

Story Requested by: @97freaknik

Summary: Being the youngest sister of Jackie and Maggie, you were quite young when Freddie Jackson went to prison. Upon his return, you cannot help but recall your innocent love you had for him back then. And surprised by your transformation into womanhood, Freddie cannot help but form a desire towards you. Will a dangerously seductive attraction grow between the two of you? What will be the consequences?

Author’s Note: Things are heating up. That’s all I’ll say. Enjoy!

Series Masterlist HERE

Sitting on the bathroom floor, you kept staring at it. The bitter truth you could not avoid. You blinked enough times, hoping to see this was all just a mere illusion. But it was not.

You were pregnant. You were with child.

Finally, you were aware of what emptiness tasted like. The whole world was at the near grips of crumbling down, where all forms of dreams and hopes were about to be crushed. This was never in your agenda to begin with. Pregnancy was never supposed to arrive at a time when you least expected it. You did not want it to be bad news. You wanted to look forward to it. Only at the right time. When you were properly married and ready. Not like this.

And with that cruel realization, your body started to panic. Your breathing quickened whilst your heart beat increased. What were you to do? Who could you confide this in? For the first time, you had never felt so alone.

Another horrible query dawned on you. Freddie. Oh god, what would Freddie say? How on earth could you even reveal this to him? Salty tears ran down your cheeks so quickly as your shoulders began to shake. Fully overwhelmed and afraid, you cried. But quietly.

A few minutes later, you were drained to the core. But at the same, your sanity returned to you. And that was when you knew, the only way to make any further decision was to get professional advice.

And just like that, you retouched your makeup, and went to see a doctor.

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(Two days later)

Amusing how the previous Family Dinner was something you looked forward to, for this time you did not to the slightest. This emotional rollercoaster did not seem favorable to your health. You longed for some peace in the end of the day. But for the moment, social gatherings did not seem ideal for your state of mind.

You attempted your hardest to maintain the mood as last time, but the attempts seem moot. For all you were tempted to do was nothing. Fortunately, your mother decided to help you with the dinner preparations so all hope was not lost.

Yet you had to wear that enthusiastic smile, like a mask.

“Is Freddie not coming today, Jacks?” Maggie asked her sister casually at the dinner table. Whilst barely chewing the food, your eyes turned to them with attention. You noticed his absence from the start of the evening itself, yet the nervous thought of seeing him distracted you.

“He’s taking care of some stuff.” Jimmy answered, right before Jackie could even start. And given her look of embarrassment, it was evident she clearly did not know the reason for her own husband’s absence. Her recent behavior and the increasing usage of pills implied enough: she definitely was not happy with Freddie, and neither was he.

The bell rang, making you get up in an instant.

“It must be the delivery…” You said, abruptly leaving the dinning room. Your mother had ordered some wine from the bar, only it came in last minute.

“Thanks, Jim. Goodnight” Waving to the deliveryman, you struggled with the two bottles and change money. Pushing the door slowly, you moved towards the living room table. With the two bottles safely on the coffee table, you put the change in the pocket of your jeans.

“You ought to be more careful closing the door”

A familiar voice tickled your ear, making you gasp as you turned back. Before you could even greet him, Freddie Jackson attacked you with a hungry kiss.

With lips still intact, you felt yourself being pulled into the bathroom nearby. Closing the door, his desperation was evident with his passionate kisses.

“Fuck! I missed you…” he breathed into your lips. Spinning you around, he held you against him, both facing the mirror over the sink top, as he began to grind. He held you tightly by the waist, rolling his hips against yours, making sure his manhood brushed over your buttocks. It was true. Ever since you found out of the big news, you had been avoiding Freddie for the last few days. Even when a rendezvous was planned, you skipped it with intention.

With your hands resting on the sink, you kept quiet. No matter how much pleasure you could be receiving right now, you did not have the heart to utter a single word. And truthfully, your face wasn’t helping either. Cold and concerned, it finally got through to Freddie. The moment he noticed it, he stopped.

“Babe, you alright?” Nervous, you barely looked at his reflection. With your lips pressed together, you barely answered. Concerned, he wrapped his hands around you, nestling his face on your neck as his voice grew soft.

“You being quiet is not normal, cupcake” he said, “Come on…what is it?” He purred, “How’s my girl feeling?” He said, in an attempt to calm you down.

Freddie Jackson’s way of calming you down was quite the opposite of what any other normal person would do. He knew sensual care would do the trick, the more you were cared for, you’ll be aroused but also honest. And that was what he strived for. He kissed the most intimate areas of your neck. He unhooked your bra to relieve some tension of your body. His hands traveled under your shirt, digging under your loosened undergarment to allow his callused thumbs run over your breasts. Because that what you liked, and he knew it well. As much as your body managed to respond with goosebumps or erect nipples, your heart was not ready to disclose anything. How could you? Were you ready to spill the beans, just so you could see his look of disgust or disappointment, and have him leave you? Your eyes kept looking at the door nervously.

“Oh I know whats going”

When Freddie spoke, you stared at him bated breath. What could he possibly know? “You’re uncomfortable with everyone here, right?…” he said, “Worried we might get caught, yeah?” He added with a mischievous smile. Sighing softly, you gave a tight smile to cover up everything, yet no answer. But Freddie did not mind. Instead he was just impressed.

“Good girl, not even talking…commitment innit? ” he said, giving a light smack on your buttocks, “Alright…” he said, as he opened the door, “ I’ll catch you later…cupcake” he winked.

Closing the door with the lock, you quickly sat on the closed toilet. Close call, you thought. But you did not like it. Being so secretive with Freddie was not your intention. It made you sick. You loathed being disloyal to him. This was unavoidable. You had to tell him soon. Taking a deep breath, you decided to go for it.

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(Two days later)

The second hand on the clock was loud enough, you knew how quiet everything else was. Your hands were clasped together as you sat on the side of the bed, waiting. When Freddie decided on the next rendezvous, you did not hesitate to accept. You even arrived at the Rose Gardens Hotel much earlier than planned, finding enough time to gather your thoughts and courage to face him. Your flow of thinking suddenly made a halt when the door opened. Looking up you saw Freddie was standing there, watching you. Lust brimmed from him. Understandable, give his frustration of not being with you for a considerable number of days.

“Well well…look what we have here?” He purred “Someone’s early”. 

You sat up, and you watched him, walking towards you. Smiling shyly was all you could do when he stood right in front you. Fingers resting on your head, he slowly undid your ponytail, pulling out your loose wavy hair, letting the fingers entangle around your locks.

Truthfully, you missed his touch. to be honest. But the stress you underwent overpowered you. Taking your hand, he pulled you up to stand.

“Now that’s a pretty dress you’re wearing, Cupcake…”   He muttered. His eyes washed over your short white dress with black polkadots. With the buttons in the front and the length reaching only up to the end of your buttocks, it was quite a ravishing sight for him. You felt his hands move from your shoulders down your back, finally resting on your posterior, cupping the buttocks tight. He groaned, closing his eyes to savor it. His lips grew closer to yours in the process. Except for the first time ever, you pushed him away. “Freddie…I…” you paused, “I need to talk to you” Confused, he nodded, “Yeah sure…” Holding his hand, you pulled him over to sit next to you on the bed. You had to do this. For it was vital. “What’s the matter, babe?” Freddie asked. You exhaled deeply. You really could not believe you were finally about to reveal this. “Do you love me?” You asked. It made him raise his eyebrows. “What?” “It’s a simple question Freddie…” you chuckled, “Do you love me?” “Of course I do, babe” He said without any hesitation “I love you…” “Do you love me regardless of whatever might happen?” You asked, as nerves built up even more. “Yeah I do” “Cause if you don’t, then I understand…it’s perfectly fine-” “Babe, what the bloody hell is going on-” “I’m pregnant” And finally, Freddie quietened.

You said it. You said it at last. Speechless. He was speechless. Regardless of what he might say, you told yourself you could handle it. If not happy, you could always get rid of it. You were early enough to do so anyways. But the fact he did not respond yet, it killed you.

“You’re sure?” He finally spoke in a low voice, still surprised.  “Yeah…the doctor confirmed it” You replied softly. You watched him slowly nod. Only you blinked twice to see a soft smile emerging from him. “Fuckin’ hell…” his lips curling up into a smile, “This is wonderful” Your eyes widened. “Really?” “It’s bloody brilliant” He said joyfully, voice filled with emotion. He said it as if he just heard the best news ever, “Y/N…” he said, clapping his hands, “We’re gonna have a fuckin’ baby” This all felt unbelievable, even when he pulled you into an embrace. He held you so tight, you felt his heartbeat, “Oh this is just great news…I’m so happy” he continued, “Oh! imagine how bloody adorable our baby’s gonna be?” He said as he looked at you. “Our baby?” You asked, surprised. Freddie nodded, putting one hand over your belly. “Yes, Our baby…” That afternoon, there was no sex. But it was certainly better. You were relieved beyond all measure. Laying together in bed, you stayed in his loving arms, enjoying his warm forehead kisses. Safe, you felt safe once again. But like clockwork, a dark cloud came over your sense of happiness, making you sit up with concern. “But…” you began, “...this doesn’t make things easy for us, you know?” “What do you mean?” Freddie asked, sitting up. You sighed. “What we have, this relationship…no one knows about it. It’s a Secret” You continued, “You’re married. And worst of all, you’re married to my sister-” “Who I don’t fuckin love anymore” he insisted, in hopes to make you feel better. “Still…it’s not easy” you said worriedly, “I’m scared Freddie” “Hey Hey…” pulling you to another embrace, he comforted you, “I’ll be here. I promise you that” he murmured ,stroking your head, “Freddie will figure something out.” Cupping your face, his gaze held you so sharply, “All I want you to remember is that…I love you, Y/N” Your eyes welled up with tears. It couldn’t be helped. You were moved to the point your lips quivered. The assurance was certainly comforting.

“I love you too”  

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(4 days later)

Freddie Jackson was indeed a piece of work. As promised, he actually figured it out. Part of it at least. Amidst the sounds of the cutlery, plates and conversation in the Family Dinner the following week, you cleared your throat.

“Everyone…I uh…have an announcement to make…” You said. Suddenly all grew quiet. Unaware of what you were about to say, most of them looked positively uninterested.

“Um…I decided to move out” Finally, uninteresting was not the case anymore. Eyes were widened, they indicated surprise. All except Freddie’s.

“What? You’re moving out?” Lena asked. To which you nodded.  “Yeah...me and a few mates decided to move together…” you said. “Why?”   “Because It’s easier for me that way. With university and everything. Besides, I’m not a kid anymore” You lied, you lied outright with no shame. But you were right about one thing: you were not a kid anymore. You were a responsible adult. A responsible adult moving out to hide one’s pregnancy. Awkward silence filled the room. “So…Who’s going to live there?” Maggie began to speak. You shrugged your shoulders. “Oh..just me and a few girls …” you replied. Lies. It was just going to be you. “Did you all already find a place?” “Yes Jimmy, one of the girls already found a place” More lies. It was Freddie who managed to find the place to his surprising convenience. Perhaps it was the manner you announced it, perhaps it was the volume of your voice. But nevertheless, everyone did nothing but merely nod in acknowledgement. It seemed that you moving out was never expected.

“I know this is all very sudden but…” you said, “I think it’s the right decision”

Silence only meant agreement here. And finally, you were free. Truthfully you did not care for what the others thought of this. Just announcing this and making it known was enough for you. Accidentally catching Freddie’s eye, you watched him wink at you. Responding with a soft smile, you exhaled deeply. Grateful you were indeed for him, finding a place like that. Far away from the family, it was just the perfect place for both of you to get away from all this. Relief washing over oneself, you recovered your appetite instantly.

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(4 days later)

“A pint of Lager for you, Y/N?” JImmy’s enthusiastic voice woke you from your pondering. Chuckling nervously, you shook your head. “No thanks, Jimmy” you said shyly, “Long night tonight…” “Alright…then I’ll get you a coke” with no judgment, he rushed over to the fetch the drinks. “Thanks” You said, sighing with relief. You were more than surprised when both Maggie and Jackie asked you to join them and their significant others for drinks one evening. If only this could have happened before nature prohibited you to drink cause of your unborn child. But that was only for you to know. Being quiet at the bar was usually not your style. But that was your mode tonight. Not because you disliked the company, you were just fatigued. Whilst sipping your coke, you carefully observed the two couples interacting. The energies exuded from the two groups felt polar opposite. Warmth, that was your impression of Maggie and Jimmy. Rife with positive energy, pure and wholesome, they smiled with every inch of their bodies, they talked with passion, they had dreams and it showed in their eyes. On the contrary, you could sense nothing but Chill from Jackie and Freddie. Distant, inattentive, they were the symbol of two individuals who have given up on love, given up on trying to fight for one another. The thought of a life for yourself made you concerned. Looking at Freddie, all you hoped for was a life where nothing close that even could crawl over. You would never give up on him. You just hoped he would not give up on you as well. Suddenly, nature called. “Excuse me...Off to the loo” You said, getting up with a smile. “Oh...I’ll join you” Maggie suddenly said. “Me too...” So did Jackie. Your eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “Alright...” you muttered, as they eagerly followed you to the restroom. Something seemed strange and you certainly did not seem right. As soon as Jackie locked the restroom door, you knew your intuition was accurate. Standing next to each other, the sisters faced you as if a fight was to take place. “Alright Y/N...” Maggie began, to you surprisingly chuckled. “I knew you two didn’t have to tinkle” you said, pointing at them. Jackie scoffed, folding her arms. “Of course…”she said, “We were trying to get you alone”. Her face growing even more serious, Maggie’s eyes did not blink. “What’s going on?” She asked. “What do you mean?” You asked back, before anyone could answer you changed your mind, “Nothing!” You added. “I found a pregnancy test in your room” Maggie said. You quietened. Feeling sentimental by the discovery, you decided to keep the test stick in your cupboard. So anyone snooping in your room would obviously find it. Yet, you were shocked. Could she be knowing more? “Why...why would you even go there??” You snapped in anger. “Does that really matter,Y/N?” Jackie said, raising her eyebrows. Coming closer to you, Maggie held your hand. “Y/N...” she began, “Are you pregnant?” Looking at her, you knew you had to be mature. Handling this with little damage was key. You took a deep breath, before nodding reluctantly. They knew, but the fact you finally admitted just made it all seem very real. And they seemed to have difficulty accepting it. Their reactions may not have been loud, but they were affected. “Who’s the father?” Jackie asked a few seconds later. She gasped, “Is it Marcus?” “I...rather not say” You replied nervously. Truthfully she would be the last person you would disclose the truth. As their reactions were silent and lengthy, you grew desperate. What were they thinking about? “Please...” Clasping your hands together, you begged,“...don’t make a big deal about this...” You continued with desperation, “the father knows and we decided to keep it” You added, “so it’s all good. It’s actually...one of the main reasons I’m moving out” you finally admitted quietly. Attempting to process the news, the sisters kept their composure. “I never imagined you having a baby so soon” Maggie said. You could not agree more. “This is so sudden” Jackie added, worried for you. “Yeah ...“ you added, “…but I’m actually excited” You said with an involuntary smile. The change in your tone, the hope that glinted in your eyes, they were finally convinced. Along with that came relief. “Awww Y/N...” You were surprised when they both hugged you tightly. Hugging them back, you felt even more relieved. It was true, to have the baby of someone you truly loved, was indeed a blessing for you. “But please don’t tell Mum yet. I’ll let her know in the right time” Your voice was muffled in the midst of their embrace, “Promise Me! Promise!” Pulling away, you begged, looking at both of them. “Don’t worry love, we will be here for you” Jackie surprised you with that comforting phrase. With a pat on the shoulder, she left. Maggie however, walked with you. “Whatever you do..”she said “…don’t let this ruin your life...your education”. You could sense she had high hopes for you. And you adored her more for that. You smiled. “I won’t....”

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As you stirred awake, you turned to the side, sleepily hugging the pillow closer to your body. The fatigue seemed to have lasted throughout the entire night, waking up was difficult. And now you were as exhausted as someone with a horrible hangover. And you did not even touch a drop of alcohol. Reliving the memory of last night, you suddenly found yourself smiling. For there was one moment that you did not want to forget.

The moment you felt nauseous out of the blue. Amidst the loud and entertaining conversations, you needed to throw up fast. Stumbling after excusing yourself, you remembered how you ended up in the back exit instead of the restroom, throwing up on the side. Bile was all that you could taste of yourself as you kept gagging. Throwing up at a bar, nothing suspicious nor outrageous. Yet it could have been comforting to have someone by your side throughout the ordeal. Someone to hold your hair, and calm you down. And the last thing you preferred to do was to burden your sisters again after the last reveal.

As if your prayers were heard, you felt your hair being pulled back. You felt a warm hand rest on your back. Only to find it was Freddie.

Wiping your mouth with one hand, you slowly stood up straight. Your face turned red with embarrassment as he paid close attention to you. “And so… begins the madness”

You said shyly chuckling. He did not laugh, only reached his hand out to place it on your non-existent baby tummy. As much as you liked it, you reluctantly pushed it away, worried someone might see.

“How did you even come h-”

Shushed, you were shushed when he proceeded to place a soft kiss on your forehead. Warmth trickled down your head. Quickly absorbed in to the skin, you felt replenished , you felt cleansed, you felt cared for. Yo felt loved. Amidst all this, he just wanted to make you feel better.

“Don’t forget that I’m here, babe” he breathed, cupping your face.

Breathing in deeply, you realized he has not smoked today. Only the whiff of his intoxicating cologne had reached your nostrils. Heart beat suddenly increased when your eyes caught his lips moving closer to yours.

“No..I just threw up…” you shyly looked down, as insecurity took over. To which he just chuckled. “Don’t… fucking… care” he said, kissing you softly on the lips. You were always blessed by his lips. And now it really felt like the touch of an angel. Humming, he seemed pleased. “Mmm…I fuckin love your lips” he purred. Pushing him away, you chuckled.

“Stop! someone will see…go inside! will you”

Smiling even though you were half awake, you remembered how he flashed his signature grin before walking back into the bar. You remembered the physical relief you experienced , and was aware of the challenges pregnancy will bring you.  

Regardless, it really was a moment worth remembering. Cuddling the pillow tighter, you thanked the gods for letting Freddie be there by your side to face all obstacles. You were ready for anything. Simply anything.

A thundering knock on the door made fully woke you from your dream state. The knocking was aggressive and desperate. And it did not cease. Concerned, you jumped out of the bed to open.

Only to find it was Maggie.

But you could not sigh in relief, especially when you saw her face. Gaunt and traumatized, her lips remained tightly pressed. Before you open your mouth, she quickly entered the room to lock it tight.

Another obstacle, you thought. But you were ready, you thought.

“Maggie? ” you began, fixing your messy hair, “Are you okay?”

She did not answer. Instead she merely took a few deep breaths. As if trying to gather her thoughts which were scattered everywhere. A few seconds later, she turned to your direction. And it frightened you.

“I’m your sister…right?” she asked. You nodded silently.

“And I think…” taking another breath, she continued heavily, “as your sister…I deserve to know the truth. The truth of what’s really going on…”

Her voice, it was grave. It was low. Speechless, you were on an internal debate on how to proceed.The truth of what? Which lie? You did not know.

“From this minute on…” she said, as her voice broke, “I want to tell me the honest truth. Only the truth, Y/N…”

Impatient, you only grew more frustrated. “Maggie, What tru-”

“Is Freddie…” Maggie paused. With wide eyes and a heart filled with worry, she took a deep breath to finally finish her desperate inquiry

“…is Freddie the father??”

Completely frozen, you suddenly regretted being brave. You wished for a do over, so you could erase all that had happened. For you just did not want to face the consequences.

——————————————————

Chapter 10 (FINAL Chapter) HERE

Tagged: @starlightmornings @rogerfxckingtaylor @daydreamerinadazedworld @courtney-thevixeniris @kimmietea @shigarakitomuraxxxdabi @tealaquinn @rach5ive

Check My MASTERLIST here :)

#tom hardy #freddie jackson #freddie jackson x reader #freddie jackson imagine #the take #the take 2009 #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy imagine #tom hardy x reader

51 notes · View notes

chibivesicle · 4 years

Text

Golden Kamuy 235 & 236: Clint Eastwood as a postal delivery man and our pirate has domestic desires . . .

Hello all, I apologize for the delay in my posts. I am one of the many people who had to change from a job of going into work to working entirely from home and online only. I have found the transition to be incredibly difficult - I have always had a strict division in my work/home balance. Add on top of that the fact that I live alone with my cat, my parents are almost 2,000 miles away and my brother is currently in Tokyo has made things very stressful. I don’t mean to dump this on you [readers], but sometimes I think it is better to at least say these things since a lot of other people are dealing with this or some version of these situations. It sucks, it is messing with my life and I am trying to deal with this situation.

Okay, enough about me, let’s get to GK.

Chapter 235 starts with Boutarou and Sugimoto about to have a showdown (to the death since Sugimoto just wants his skin). It starts out with Boutarou sizing up Shiraishi, he appears a bit playful and curious that Shiraishi is still in Hokkaido - based on Shiraishi pre-Asirpa/Sugimoto/Kiro he really was a self interested guy. You’d expect he’d make his way back to Honshu and have some fun going to red light districts. The fact that Shiraishi has a pensive look means he’s trying to think a way to deal with this situation and also reacting to the assumption of his personality. He immediately sees Sugimoto reaching for his bayonet and realizes they need to ask him if he know more information.

I really have grown to like Shiraishi - he was a successful escape artist, indicative of being a smarter than average guy and he’s already putting the pieces together that Boutarou would have more information on the Ainu as he sees Sugimoto in his murder mode.

Shiraishi is able to de-escalate the situation by calming stating an assumption on his part. It is gamble, but based on what he learned from Heita, it is a good gamble since the thought things over pretty well.

This is enough information to get the pirate to stop and then he’s excited that they are thinking the same thing as him. Shiraishi is close enough to Boutarou to keep Sugimoto at bay who in this panel looks like a predator coming in for a kill after stalking. Sugimoto is hunched over, almost creeping forward like a cat while Shiraishi is upright and super relaxed.

Shiraishi’s statement is enough to get more information out of Boutarou, he then tells them that there is a rumor that the tattoos are useless to figuring out the code. This is enough to snap Sugimoto out of his murder mode. Excellently played Shiraishi!

They are interrupted by the fact that the pirate gang notices another paddle boat is coming the opposite direction and there are soldiers on it and if they are from the 7th it would be bad news. Only then does Sugimoto realize that of course Boutarou would have men working for him and it causes him to pause.

Boutarou has an excellent reaction to things, he calmly gets the boat moving again, and his men, keep the passengers under control. The postman is the introduced, our Clint Eastwood stand in as he’s armed to protect valuables sent via the post.

We can see where this is going . . . there will be a shoot out on the boat and Asirpa is still out cold. It looks like they will be in the clear, they pass by the other boat as they wave over.

Shiraishi is nervous as he hopes the plan works with little issues. Asirpa then wakes up as the postman readies his handgun. The postman thinks he took out one of the pirate gang members and causes enough of a commotion that the other boat notices the gunshot.

Unfortunately, his “excellent” aim had nothing to do with him. Instead, it was all from Vasily sniping them one by one from the boat with the horses. This is the worst outcome possible, it makes a huge scene, escalates the entire situation, and takes out most of the pirate gang a disadvantage to Boutarou.

Sadly, our inexperienced postman makes terrible decisions wasting his ammo from his revolver for no reason and then someone finds Sugimoto’s lost rifle. Cue Ogata lecture. Oh wait, Ogata isn’t present, yet we as readers can hear his “tch” sound. In the meantime, due to Vasily’s sniping, the other boat is worried about saving the passengers and turns back around.

Thankfully, Boutarou thinks quickly on his feet. He takes control of the boat and he turns it so that he can ram into the paddle wheel of the other boat.

By incapacitating the drive system of the other boat, they can leave them stuck in the river. Very clever moves and it additionally, breaks the rope that kept Vasily tied to the boat. He’s now stuck in a small boat as they escape from him.

This all in all is a good situation for Vasily even if he doesn’t realize it, keeping him away from the rest of the group means, there won’t be another shoot first, ask no questions later situation. The man he should have sniped was the postman, not the pirate gang. As usual he goes for clean head shots, indicating he doesn’t snipe the same way as Ogata, who frequently thinks about his most effective way to do things.

Back to the action where our postman from hell now has Sugimoto’s rifle is and still fighting back awkwardly and is under the indication that his men were shot by him. He goes into a calm mode as he looks at his options to take out the man. Meanwhile, Sugimoto is just trying to dodge him and not die due to the man’s recklessness.

Boutarou has an expression of complete seriousness, he cares for his gang and he’s going to do what it takes. Being the wild man that he is, he manages to swing the anchor into the passenger galley and Sugimoto luckily is able to yell to Asirpa to protect her as she gets the man down as he goes for the backpack.

Of course Sugimoto goes back to angry murder mode as Boutarou hits him in the face with the anchor as he gets close enough to punch him in the stomach under the pretense that he may have hurt Asirpa.

Yes, Sugimoto, you lost your rifle, and your inability to keep an eye on your firearms lead to this entire situation and he’s now back to “who cares - kill the man and skin him” mindset.

Quick summary of the chapter

1.) Shiraishi remains the brains of their group. He was on the path for the most information and least amount of violence, but that didn’t work out.

2.) Boutarou is a clever guy. He has a good balance of using his brain and calmly and effectively making decisions. The fact that he’s friendly with Shiraishi tells me that he is a more complicated convict that some of the others and will continue to be a major force in this story arc.

3.) Vasily is a giant liability. He can’t effectively communicate with the rest of the group. He snipes the wrong people resulting in a more complicated situation and he eventually gets ditched. His sniping style is clearly one of simple execution. There is no way that he’s as intelligent as Ogata and lacks the ability to play a long game at all. In a way, he may even make Sugimoto feel good about him being around b/c he can write off snipers as being all like Vasily and therefore, puts Ogata in that category even though he’s no way close to it. The fact he wasn’t with the rest of the group to see what was happening made things far worse, what did he gain by sniping some of the pirate crew? Nothing.

4.) Sugimoto put Asirpa in danger. By rushing off to deal with things and leaving her out of his sight, losing his rifle and being stuck in murder mode, he endangered her. If he truly wants to protect her, he can’t just leave her out of his sight. He deflects everything in the name of always following short term actions.

Chapter 236 starts with several pages of Boutarou and Sugimoto fighting each other. Both of them have white murder eyes as they beat the shit out of each other.

I think the fight between these two is to show us how tenacious they are. They are able to put everything into the fight - it is a brutal all out brawl between them and they hold nothing back.

In the meantime, the postman wastes his last shot with Sugimoto’s rifle and Asirpa is able to cleverly kick him off into the water. Then Asirpa is able to stop Sugimoto as she gets onto the deck with her bow at hand (not sure where she put his rifle). Sugimoto’s eyes return to round and black with a little sparkle in them, indicating that he’s out of his murder mode.

By her actions, she was able to get the postman off the boat and all the commotion can calm down, it gives Shiraishi the opportunity to also get Sugimoto to stop with reason to talk to Boutarou.

Boutarou seems unfazed by Sugimoto’s switch from murder to normal. To me it indicates that they must have a lot in common as he looks at him with some sort of “kindred spirit” vibe. It may just be me, but both men appear to have on/off switches for their murder modes.

Shiraishi then asks him about the rumor to be unable to solve the code, and Boutarou gives him what he knows. We finally learn the origin of the Baroto skin; Wakayama had found one of the other convicts; he killed him and skinned him.

We get an extra image of a naked Boutarou as he reveals he lost it via gambling. Wakayama states the odds of all of the convicts being alive to be found and skinned is too to low as two of our previous convicts are shown how they died. He was confident that was a moot point and even went as far to see how Wilk may have just messed with everyone, because he could.

This then connects to what the candy peddler said - that Wakayama was disappointed; likely due to the fact he lost the skin and also the fact that if he thought about what happened to other convicts, it really is a pointless quest.

Despite all of the skins they’ve found, Wakayama and Boutarou have valid points. Boutarou tells them that it gave him a reason to give up on trying to find the skins, but thought if he tried to figure out where Wilk hid the gold, it would be worth the effort. He then asks them if they’d like to join forces with him.

To keep them intrigued in him and his goals, Boutarou tells them what he wants to do with the gold. He wants to leave Hokkaido, move someplace warmer in SE Asia and then become a major producer of agricultural products. He sees himself making himself the ruler and he wants to start a large family.

His idea is exceptionally childish and still is mis-placed colonial/imperial feelings but it is coming from his own personal experience. Shiraishi is less than amused and Sugimoto tries to almost hide his feelings on the idea of why everyone wants the gold to rule a country. Boutarou is very perceptive he asks Sugimoto about his family. As Sugimoto states he has none, it leads him to ask what caused them to die and Sugimoto tells him it was due to TB. He then reveals that his own family died of smallpox. This lead to his childish dream of creating his own family that wouldn’t be shunned due to disease and he used this concept as the way to keep him going - the side effect is that he used his dream as his way to push through everything.

All of a sudden their brutal fight makes so much sense - neither of them have something to lose related to their family. Their lack of a family back home allows them to be reckless idiots. And this leads to a much awaited Sugimoto flashback! Finally! I have to admit that I’ve been waiting for this for a loooooooong time. I was thinking it would happen on Karafuto due to Sugimoto’s vision during the snow squall - this just shows us how deep his denial of this is.

With Sugimoto’s dead looking black eyes, we can tell that even before his father died, he had reached the same mental state as many of our other characters where they “broke” inside. Ogata around age 9, Tsurumi with the death of Fina and Olga etc etc. We learn that Sugimoto’s family have a weakness for being kind and caring towards others, so his father feels bad for his situation.

I want to know exactly what his dad did that leads him to say that he was always helping people even if he shouldn’t. Does this mean that his father got overly involved in things? That he was also overly emotional and rushed into things without thinking them through. Argh! I want to know more about Sugi-dad.

Sugimoto sits outside of the house as a cat approaches him. As stated in the footnotes at the end of the chapter, the cat is supposed to prevent TB. Sugimoto then wonders if due to the cat’s aloof nature, perhaps it isn’t helping with curing his sick dad. He tells that cat that it is useless too, this implies that Sugimoto himself feels useless to help his father.

The cat then walks off to do its cat things as Sugimoto stands up and prepares himself. His clenched fists and determined expression in the last panel show that he’s made a decision. In an attempt to give him ‘release’ his father tells him to leave their home.

He is told that for him to live for his own sake isn’t a bad thing. This tells us that Sugimoto has a hard time being selfish, he’s clearly done actions for the sake of his family without any regard for his own feelings and self care. He leaves the house as his father coughs in the room. He’s nervous and unsure of the decision at first. He’s sweating as he holds his feelings in. But the wind blows through the trees and he makes his verbal commitment to not lose. He begins to cheer himself up and it leads to the dramatic panel. He declares that he’s immortal!

So, before his father has died and he burns the house down, he has made his first declaration of how he will live his life - he will be immortal. We now know this attitude was created before he enlisted in the 1st and fought in the war.

He then snaps back to the present as Boutarou asks him what his dreams are. The facial expression of Sugimoto is one of almost confusion/panic/thought

The fact that Sugimoto can’t answer him easily, indicates that Sugimoto has been living without any dreams for himself. Just living without a long term goal. His various shades of his eyes show us that he’s never been asked this question before so directly. It isn’t about Umeko and Toraji. It is about him. And thus, his father’s statement makes more sense now; Sugimoto doesn’t want things to be about him; then he’d have to face himself.

The chapter then ends with them arriving at their destination. Again, Boutarou is reasonable with the passengers; they just take the registered mail money and leave the passengers with their money and unharmed.

Since the postman was looking in Sugimoto’s backpack he revealed what was inside of it. Heita’s skin and his tobacco case. So now, Boutarou knows that they ran into Heita and he’s clearly not alive anymore. Good eye, Boutarou!

Clearly, the next chapter will have more drama in relation to this discovery.

Quick summary and conclusions;

1.) Sugimoto is most similar to Boutarou. He spends so much of his time othering and making the convicts inhuman; just the skins. Boutarou has too much in common with him. The tenacity to fight to the death, carrying the PTSD from losing their families to disease and the feeling of helplessness. The difference is that Boutarou thought deeply about his childhood motivation and has accepted it for his future plans and motivation. Boutarou has the ability to self-reflect and use it in a pro-active fashion. Sugimoto has revealed that he has been running away from facing himself since before his father died. This is terrible - it tells us that Sugimoto’s problems go back even further than we originally realized and he went to war already wounded and broken. No wonder he continues to be reckless; he was as broken as Ogata was going to war. The Ogata-Sugimoto similarities gain another point for how they were both broken before enlisting in the army.

2.) Sugimoto clearly hates cats and the link to Toraji’s nickname of Tora-chan and Ogata add to it. The black cat let him down unable to help his father recover from TB. He’s been surrounded by cats, people with cat nicknames, or cat like characteristics. It is obvious that he’d lash out a those with the overlap and Ogata is our most obvious easy target. A random black house cat let him down. All other future cats will let him down. The link to Ogata is so obvious with his aloof attitude and ability to float between groups with little attachment.

3.) We finally learn the origin of the Barato skin. I’m glad to know that it was a skin that was lost by Wakayama. It shows that many of the more rational convicts knew when to give up with the hunt for the skins and it was key in highlighting the Hijikata-Ogata alliance of convenience. It also highlights that with Asirpa knowing the code, it is likely that not all of the skins are critical. @goldenkamuyhunting had an excellent meta post about what this could mean for the hunt for the skins. I reblogged it before this post if you missed it.

That’s pretty much all I have for now!

#golden kamuy #golden kamuy meta #sugimoto saichi #asirpa #Shiraishi Yoshitake #boutarou the pirate #ogata hyakunosuke #vasily #heita

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onetoomanysteps · 5 years

Text

Regarding the problematic dilemma that is SnA’s eight episode

“The source of every crime, is some defect of the understanding; or some error in reasoning; or some sudden force of the passions.”

― Thomas Hobbes

..Okay, so, here I am again with a long-ass critic post about Shoukoku no Altair’s anime release. Yes. It has been a while and the anime had long ended. I know. Maybe some of you would say that roasting the anime again after all of this time is moot point, since it’s less likely that many people will come and search for it as it’s already out of season. But then again... compulsory community service in the middle of holiday time unfortunately can’t manage to shift my saltiness towards SnA anime, and once again I decided to resume doing this review that I initially thought I would abandon at the pilot episode.

Whew. Okay then, OOT rant out, now time for some content.

Warning: Spoilers, as usual. Also, quite more opinionated than the first review. Differing opinions are welcome, but please relay it with class.

Maybe some of you would be surprised when this particular episode became the next choice for my reluctant SnA anime bashing session: after all, compared to the other ones, this one is quite tame and consistent in regards to pacing, nothing out of ordinary as it was basically adapted from the interlude-type story of 4th volume of the manga. No sloppy scene cuts and merge like the ones littering the pilot episode, the seiyuus’ expertise shining through their well-executed lines delivered with emotive and fitting voice acting, fairly decent editing for supposedly dynamic scenes like Mahmut’s gambling parade (though a dark glittery effect and Katou-sensei used in the manga would make it 100X more awesome, as it added to Manga!Mahmut’s rightfully conspiratory look when he swindled the bar patrons’ money), the smoothness of it would not give the impression of another episode that messed up so bad that it needed a bashing post of its own.

Except that that was apparently not the case. As with most of its notable adaptations recently, there is a disturbing theme that repeats itself across some of Mappa’s recent adaptation works: For some god-knows-why reason, Mappa reeeally likes to change some aspect of the story, so that it diverges from the original source material and transform the show’s overall tone. This, in my opinion, is a kind of hit-or-miss situation; when it’s done well, it can make the story even more interesting and/or bringing out a kind of freshness to it, but when done poorly, it can destroy it into barely recognizable piece of... whatever it is instead.

Two of the most apparent examples of this theme is how Mappa did Dororo and Kakegurui’s anime adaptation. In Dororo, the important, plot-relevant differences shown since the beginning created a darker story that has a whole unique and interesting nuance compared to the more lighthearted original source. Meanwhile, in Kakegurui, in which the noisy, fanservice-laden changes only happened at the very end of the season, it felt abrupt and destroyed the tension that had been building since the first episode. For me, it gave an anti-climatic impression like the ending was written from a completely different story altogether and just slapped on the rest of the season like some kind of poorly made band-aid.

Apparently, it turns out that SnA anime also followed (or maybe some would say preceded, as it was aired even before Mappa!Dororo and aired together with Kakegurui) the same trend. To some extent. Here I see that SnA anime, as I had written about in the pilot episode critique, had changed some components of the story, in which the change didn’t really stem from technicalities and more of an artistic license to change the story’s overall tone. The problem is, the way that the anime changed scenes here and there is not consistent and overall not suited to the kind of story SnA is trying to tell us: the anime tried to somehow mix an image of Mahmut as a righteous, morally superior protagonist that always thrive in his every impulsive, ego-driven endeavors with a particular shape of world- building that centers on realpolitik-esque international politics, in which the highest reward would go to the actor that appeals the most to pragmatic rationality in ensuring their goal’s attainment. In this work, this mostly meant the characters’ goals regarding the wellbeing of their respective nations (i.e. national interest). In other words, the anime tried to blend two things that was supposedly not put together, and somehow tried to make it work. This made the overall tone inconsistent, as the anime was not clear on what kind of message it wanted to tell us.

This flaw was, in my opinion, most apparent in this particular episode. Why, you ask?

Because of this sly, sly, fabulous piece of work.

As some of you might already know, this magnificent bastard of a doge above is one of the, if not THE one, most pragmatic character SnA had to offer. Even more Machiavellian than other magnificent bastards such as Zaganos and Louis that has their own momentary emotion-controlled decision resulting in abject barbarism, Lucio for the most part managed to keep his underlying human emotions to himself, dividing his emotions as a human being with his rationality as a statesman with such surgical precision that even some of us sometimes forgot that he, like all other characters in the series, still has a heart underneath all of that smug diplomatic farce of his.

On one side the manga showcased his ability to create carefully balanced moves, crafted in order to maximize his city-state’s gain as a middle power with decent defensive capabilities and flourishing economy, but otherwise not immune to the effects of Turkiye and Baltrhein’s power struggle that reverberated throughout the region.

On the other hand, the manga also explored his inner, more vurnerable moments through carefully placed flashbacks and delicate showcase of blink-and-you’ll-miss micro-expression from time to time, creating a subtle nuance of conflicting desires in his mind that never truly surfaced for the whole world to see, painstakingly contained lest it becomes a crack that will rupture the delicate balance of his conscience and affect his decision-making abilities.

This two images of Lucio that the manga expertly portrayed, to me, is a good crystalization of the implicit rules of pragmatism present in the SnA universe already mentioned above. The ‘rewards’ for his ideal behaviour are readily apparent throughout the storyline, up until now. Venedik, the city-state that Lucio currently leads, always occupies ‘safe zone’ in the manga’s plot progression: it never suffered a crippling destruction that robs it of its sovereignty (compare to Phoenicia and some of Rumeliana mainland’s city states); haven’t experienced the kind of back-and-forth win-and-losses that causes drastic depletion of its resources (compare to Baltrhein that lost a lot of human and material resources along with their territories, and Turkiye that also lost a lot of human resources, intellectual properties, and arguably their subjects’ trust); and last but not least, it is able to participate actively, according to its own terms, in securing its interest throughout the great war that engulfes the entire region (somewhat of a luxury, certainly not possessed by the Cuore that depends on the Alliance to conclude the war in favorable terms for them).

In my opinion, those advantages that Venedik has would not be there without Lucio’s careful and logic-driven way of directing Venedik’s domestic and foreign affairs and masterful management of his personal sentiments. This is especially apparent when we compare Lucio with other policy makers in the story, that more often than not commited grave errors when they let their personal sentiments cloud their judgement (Mahmut’s impatience to save Ibrahim regardless of his position that led to his demotion in the story’s early stages; Zaganos’ thirst for revenge that led to many unnecessary sacrifices in recent chapters; Constantinos’ pride that led to Phoenicia’s harsh subjugation by Lerederik’s troops; Louis’ apparent prejudice at other other states that emptied Baltrhein’s coffers to fund a costly war, et cetera). The message is quite clear: as a statesman/woman, it’s imperative to separate one’s personal sentiments from his/her job as clean as possible; or else he/she will suffer grave consequences as a result; it doesn’t care what kind of personal morality or quirks you have, it decides that you’re finished when you let them dictate your actions (although still, being shonen manga, Mahmut as the protagonist still gets more ‘redemption’ than most...). Despite it being a value that is somewhat a bit foreign and outdated in manga world, (especially when considering the modern world’s worship of Romanticism and animanga’s reputation as one of the most expressive medium of storytelling), this subtle nuance is what separates SnA from another works in the same medium, even the ones with the same umbrella genre of historical fiction.

It’s this whole nuance that the anime failed to capture in its entirety, thus creating an underwhelmingly generic show of shonen adventure that moves because of Hero vs. Villain plot based on black-and-white morality. The drastic change they did to Lucio’s character, the character that I thought of as the ‘It’ standard of the manga’s reward-and-punishment system, presented this error clearer especially when combined with their hideous portrayal of Mahmut throughout the series already realized by a lot of other manga reader. In the anime, I didn’t see the realpolitik-savvy, confidently prudent Doge that I know and admire. In here, I saw a man so insecure about his own political inclinations that his most trusted subordinate deliberately hid a crucial intel in anticipation of an error in his judgement.

As this is already quite long, here are some screenshots to ponder on. Go figure.

Manga:

An elaborate, brilliant piece of roasting that we never knew we needed, yet the anime never gives

Anime:

Seriously? That’s all?? How about.. the Magistros’ death?

Totally blindsided by an unanticipated jab on your personal sentiments thanks to some missing intels, possibly showing your weakness and incompetence in front of foreign politicians and your own subordinates. Fun indeed.

Um... I think this is not a matter of personal preferences anymore... do you really not trust each other that much??

....Who are you, and what have you done to Lucio?

#shoukoku no altair #the eight episode #long post

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