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dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months

Note

I saw your requests were closed But I really couldn't help sharing one. I hope you do like the idea :)

So what about a Charles × Wolff/Hamilton reader where she is working in Health care but has a new boss recently and he passes inappropriate comments/threats etc about her and acts out of line, which keeps on escalating (As dramatic and much as you want it to) and she doesn't tell him or anyone and starts behaving irratically and is scared, but one day it was too much or he finds out about it on accident and is angry at first at her for not sharing and then is all protective and possessive and does something about it.

One shot/ Series. Honey anything to read any version of this would be just 🤌🏻

Thank you ❤️🥹

Your Safe Place || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!Wolff!reader Warnings: 18+ only, injuries, bullying, panic attack WC: 3.3k F1 Masterlist

Translations: ma (petite) louve - my (little) wolf || chérie - sweetheart || putain - fuck || je t’aime (aussi) - I love you (too) || Quel salopard - what an asshole

The second you closed the front door you could finally breathe again. Taking a moment to just settle after the day you had endured, you pressed your back to the door and closed your eyes. It was like you told your younger patients when they were feeling stressed: smell the flower, blow out the candle. Inhale through your nose, exhale out your mouth.

Peace calmed your mind as you smelt the dinner Charles had made, your plate kept warm in the oven like he did whenever your shift ran overtime. That was an almost daily occurrence, especially with the new boss. You took another breath to clear your mind before it could return to the man who was single handedly making you regret your entire career choice.

"Hey-oh," Charles caught himself before he could hug you, spotting the blood on your scrubs. "You, uh, have a little something-" You looked down where he gestured, his nose wrinkling at the sight.

"It's fine," you said as you dropped your bag to the floor and pulled the shirt off. "It's mine, not a patient."

He nodded with relief as he took it from you to put in the washing machine but then it dropped as he realised what you had said and took a closer look at you. "Ma louve, what happened?" his fingers were gentle as they guided your face up to the light and he saw the bruising around your nose. "Putain, you're hurt."

"It was an accident," you said softly as you took his hands from your face and stepped into his embrace. "Cassia just had an episode, you know how it is, she didn't know what she was doing."

He wasn't appeased by the answer as he led you to the kitchen where he sat you down before checking your dinner was still warm enough to eat. "Where was security?"

You were grateful his back was to you as he reheated the pasta, something he hated having to do since it was never as good as when it was fresh. You had grimaced, wondering the very same thing at the time. They should have been close in the ward but with the new boss, expenditure was more important than safety and the budget had been cut in half the moment he started.

"They got there as fast as they could." It wasn't a lie. They had run all the way from the maternity ward on the floor above but you had already reset your broken nose by the time they arrived. She had quickly calmed after a dose of haloperidol and been apologetic when she realised her actions while delirious. “I’m fine, Char.”

Diana sighed as she bandaged your wrist, a look of pity in her eyes as she shook her head. “Why do you stay? It’s not like you need the money, hun.”

You tested the range of movement and winced at the sharp pain, just another incident to add to the growing list. “What good does quitting do? You guys would just be another nurse down and it would put more pressure on an already crumbling system.”

The older nurse patted your hand before standing up and putting the left over roll of gauze away. “You’re too kind, but sometimes you have to put yourself first.”

You should have taken the rest of the day off but there were rounds to finish and call bells ringing left, right and centre. It was only when you couldn’t ignore your rumbling stomach any longer that you really took a proper look at your watch and saw your shift had finished over an hour ago.

“Katrina called in sick, I need you to stay on,” Tommy said without a simple hello when he caught you alone in the staff room.

“I can’t,” you replied as you grabbed your bag with your good hand, “it’s my dad’s birthday - we’re going out to dinner.”

“I don’t give a shit if you’re having dinner with the Crown Prince himself, we need you here.”

“Albert may actually be there,” you mused as you started to leave, but an arm blocked the doorway.

“Your yearly review is due next week, and I would hate to have to make a note of insolence, poor attitude and lack of empathy for others. We are short on staff and it’s not like you have children at home.”

That had been the only reason you took some extra shifts when you could manage it, because there were nurses like Katrina who had two young ones and they often fell ill with colds and flus from their daycare. It meant you had to become the automatic fall guy when any other member of staff couldn’t make it - but that was what the on-call nurses were for, except…

“Maybe we wouldn’t be short staffed if you didn’t get rid of the on-call contractors, or if you hired more nurses like we were promised two years ago,” you snapped without thinking, your hunger and exhaustion removing the filter that stopped you from having the temper your father did. Or, passion, as he liked to call it - a Wolff trait.

“So this is my fault?” he scoffed. “Nurses cost money. You might not know this, but money doesn’t grow on trees.”

You rolled your eyes at the reminder that you grew up with a silver spoon in your mouth, but that didn’t mean you were the spoiled daughter everyone who didn’t know you thought you were. You had studied hard and put in the effort to become a nurse because you wanted to help people. Tommy only cared about the profit.

“Healthcare shouldn’t be about money,” you muttered as you rolled your eyes. “It should be about helping the people who need it.”

“Then ask daddy dearest to make a donation, sweetcheeks,” he mocked as he pinched your cheek like a child. “That’s the only way you’ll get your precious nurses.”

You slapped his hand away from your face and ducked out the door before he could stop you but his voice echoed along the cold sterile corridor, “I hope you like night shifts, you’re going to be on them for a very long time.”

“You wouldn't,” you turned with a gasp. Charles' timetable was erratic but unless he was out of the country for a race he would always make the effort to be home by the time your shift ended.

“I would.” He chuckled and left in the opposite direction, pointing back to the staff room as he went. “You can leave at the midnight swap.”

Sighing with defeat and tears stinging your eyes, you grabbed your phone from the bag and sent an apologetic text to your father for missing his dinner party.

By the time midnight arrived your feet were aching and you had nearly emptied the vending machine of snacks to stave off your hunger. It wasn’t far from the hospital to the apartment you shared with Charles but it felt like a million miles when you stepped out into the cold night.

You pulled your jacket tighter around your body and shivered as you started off, your head down and hood up. You were so focused on just putting one foot in front of the other you didn’t see the shadow join you until a hand grabbed you and you screamed with terror as you were pulled into their chest.

“Ma louve, it’s me,” Charles soothed as he pulled your hoodie back and saw the tears in your eyes. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I, I,” you stammered as you tried to unscramble the thoughts in your head.

“Shh, I’m sorry, I called out to you like three times. I shouldn’t have grabbed you, that was stupid,” he chided himself.

“No, no, I’m sorry, I was in a world of my own.” You finally took notice of your surroundings and saw the car park was almost empty and none of the cars were his Pista. “What are you doing here? Did you walk?”

“I didn’t want you walking alone at this hour,” he said with a kiss on your forehead. “You’re shaking, ma chérie.”

“It was a long day,” you murmured as you yawned, resting your head on his shoulder as he gently rocked you. “I think I have more coffee in my system than blood right now.”

“You can’t keep this up, my love, you are going to burn out.”

You pulled out of his embrace and started down the footpath so he didn’t see the tears begin to escape. “I’m fine, Char. I can handle it.”

It was Charles' home race and you had promised him you would join him in Ferrari this year. It was one of the few races you could always attend, managing your shifts around it so you never missed it, and all week you had seen the city setting up for the pride and joy of Monaco.

Dawn was breaking on the big day and it looked like it was going to be a stunner as the sky turned blue and you left the hospital after yet another night shift. Tommy had found a way to make your life miserable and your shifts were constantly changing just to upset your mentality and circadian rhythm. You could barely tell morning from night when it always looked the same blue hues, same cool temperatures, the only indication was which side of the city was glowing, east or west.

“Good morning, baby,” you greeted as you wrapped your arms around Charles and kissed his shoulder as you found him at the bench making breakfast, already wearing his bright red Ferrari uniform. “How did you sleep?”

“Not bad. Would have been better with you,” he said as he turned to face you, his head dipping down to indulge in a kiss. You giggled as you saw a few crumbs of toast caught in the short hairs of his beard and brushed them away. “Thank you.”

“Now you can kiss me.”

The doorbell rang and he reluctantly released you from his arms to go answer it, his finger pointing to the second plate you hadn’t noticed. “Eat, amour.”

You hummed happily as you grabbed the toast and took a bite, casting a wave to Andrea as he walked in with Charles.

“You look half dead, Wolff,” his trainer said with a worried look.

“She just got in from a shift, and will be going to bed as soon as she has eaten, right?” Charles said pointedly while you rolled your eyes.

“Does he boss you around this much?” you asked Andrea, making him chuckle as he shook his head.

“No, but he doesn’t love me the same way.”

“Who said I love you at all?”

“You do, every time you get a podium,” Andrea pointed out seriously.

You nearly choked on the mouthful as you tried not to laugh at the truth. Charles was very affectionate when he was celebrating, and you hoped he would have an entire night of it after today's race. Unfortunately you wouldn’t be able to share it with him since you were due back at the hospital at 7pm for another 12 hour night shift. You had tried to find someone to swap with but Tommy had made it clear there would be consequences - all because you questioned his qualifications.

You hadn’t been able to quiet any more, not when you had the imprint of a patient's dental records on your forearm from when they bit you. You started dreading going to work, somewhere that should have been a safe place, a refuge for those needing help had become the opposite for you. It was bordering on dangerous and you had to say something.

In hindsight, you shouldn’t have said it in the morning meeting in front of dozens of staff, but you had serious doubts about his ‘people skills’ and wanted to know where he got his management degree from. Suggesting it was from Hogwarts, because it must be a thing of fantasy, may have been a step too far.

You were now paying for those words.

You still stood by them.

You still hadn’t told Charles.

He would only worry, or suggest taking a sabbatical. Yes, you longed to travel with him to his races and show your support, but you didn’t feel there was any way to contribute to society with that life. Nursing gave you a sense of purpose and fulfilment that you were certain you couldn’t feel just being the driver’s girlfriend, or the principal’s daughter.

“Hey,” Charles roused you softly and you realised you were starting to fall asleep while eating. “Let’s get you to bed, ma petite louve.”

You were already closing your eyes before your head hit the pillow but you felt his lips warm your forehead. “I love you. I’ll see you in the garage,” you mumbled as sleep took over.

“Je t’aime aussi.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you swore as you scrambled out of the bed and pulled on the first outfit you could find, a pair of comfortable jeans and a Ferrari shirt with Leclerc across the back with the number 16. There were dozens of missed calls and even more text messages but do not disturb had automatically turned on and you had forgotten to stop the setting. Today of all days you wanted to be disturbed.

Out on the street you could already hear the high keening of the cars racing around the city and you dashed through the thick crowds to get to the paddock. You hadn’t even remembered to grab your pass as you left in a rush but for once you were thankful someone recognised you and let you through.

“Arthur, how is he doing?” you panted as you reached the Ferrari garage and grabbed the headset he held out.

“Not the best start, he was a little distracted I think. You should probably let him know you are here.”

You agreed and went to the desk at the back rather than the main set up on the pit wall, quietly asking them to connect your headset to Charles. They were hesitant but there was no need for a pit stop any time soon since he had fresh tires so they made the adjustments to the channels.

“Hey baby, sorry I’m late.”

“You had me worried, little wolf.”

“That sounds so strange to hear in English,” you giggled, knowing the rules of the comms meant he couldn’t speak French on them. “I just wanted to let you know I made it so you can stop worrying.”

“I’ll always worry about you,” he said and you didn’t need to see his face to know he was smiling. “I’ll see you soon.”

The final 12 laps went almost as quickly as your nails, the nervous habit ruining them under the stress of the tight street circuit and close calls. Every time his car went flying through the sharp corners around the pool you were sure you were going to see him crash and your heart could barely take it. You ripped the headset off and rushed out of the garage as a wave of nausea crashed over you.

“Are you alright?” Arthur asked when he caught up to you in Charles’ driver room, a bottle from his fridge pressed to your clammy forehead. Your hands could barely keep it steady as the shook uncontrollably and you ended up letting it fall to the floor with a thud as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You couldn’t answer him as you struggled to pull air into your lungs, the screams of the crowd outside doing little to calm the panic gripping you. Dropping your head between your knees, you tried to keep from fainting but you could feel your heartbeat in your head, the throb sounding in time to the darkening pulse invading your vision until it all faded to black.

“You’re not listening, mate, she cannot come to work. She fucking passed out from exhaustion.”

“Then she should have been sleeping and not wasting her time watching some cars go around in circles. If she doesn't show up tonight, tell her not to bother showing up ever again.”

“She won’t,” Charles ended the call and slammed your phone down. “Quel salopard!”

The anger on Charles' face softened when he saw your eyes opening and he rushed across the room, his race suit still tied around his waist. “Don’t move, just lay down, ma louve. You need to rest,” he whispered as he knelt on the floor beside the couch you were lying on, his fingers brushing your cheek bone. “Arthur’s gone to get Toto.”

You couldn’t tell if minutes or days had passed and trying to think felt like trekking through a swamp of sludge in your mind. “The race?”

“4th.” He pressed his palm to your head and ran it over your hair feeling the damp heat on his skin. “You’ve sweat almost as much as me, mamour. You should have stayed home if you weren’t feeling well.”

You shook your head and it cleared some of the haze that hindered your cognitive ability. “I’m not sick, I just had…a moment. But I’m fine now.”

“A moment?” he asked with a frown. “What type of moment? And don��t tell me you are fine, you are clearly not and you haven’t been fine for months. Talk to me, please.”

The pleading, the puppy eyes, the way he dropped his head to your shoulder like he was defeated, it crested into a tsunami of emotion that broke the wall you had built between your personal life and your work life. The two worlds crashed together and the sob broke his heart as you crumbled apart in front of him.

The wave of truth crashed upon him and everything you had tried to keep from him for the past six months was lifted from your conscience as you confessed it all. You told him about the stress you were under, the bullying you had faced and the danger you were in each night with nearly no support or security.

You had been in a long sleeve when you went to bed but now you were in his shirt and he could see the latest wound marring your flesh, the impression of teeth setting to bruises.

Horror painted his features as he absorbed it all, then it turned to anger, hot rage as his clenched fists turned his knuckles white. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked with quiet restraint. “Pourquoi?”

You swallowed and shrank back into the couch as you felt that anger aimed at you. The shaking started again, a fine tremor coursing through your body until it reached your teeth and they chattered as a cold sweat broke out.

“Fuck, no, bébé, please,” Charles cursed as he unclenched his fists and reached for you only to freeze as you flinched. “Please, I would never hurt you. I’m not angry at you.”

“Yes, you are,” you whispered.

“Okay, I’m a little bit angry you didn’t tell me sooner. We are meant to share everything, no?” You nodded meekly. “But I would never hurt you, ma louve. I’m angry at myself, I should have noticed, I should have, I don’t know…I failed you.”

“I was scared. You would make me quit if you knew.”

His head lifted and confusion swum in those green eyes of his. “Why would you want to work for that asshole?”

“I like my job, I like what I do, Charles.” You looked away from the intensity of his stare. “I don’t know who I am without it.”

“Oh, chérie, you would still be the same selfless, kind, beautiful woman you are right now. That is who you are, and that will never change.” When he reached for you this time you let him take your hands and he kissed your knuckles before holding them to his chest. “I think it’s time to prove it to you.”

You sighed and gave him a small nod. “I think you might be right.”

The sound of relief he made brought a smile to your face and he returned it with a guilty one. “That’s a relief,” he admitted with a nervous chuckle, “because I think I got you fired.”

#charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #wolff!reader

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starsinmylatte · 3 months

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧

Yet another wonderful request as part of my JJK Fic Readers Supporting Noury event!

This fic is a gift for @starlitnotes (who Tumblr is apparently against me tagging, so I will DM her 😅) Thank you so much to everyone who has supported my event and my writing so far 💜

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Afab!reader x Hiromi Higuruma Rating: Explicit (18+ minors DNI) Word Count: 9k Request: Yakuza bosses Nanami and Higuruma

Click here to join my taglist!

Warnings are found below the cut!

Warnings (besides what it says on the request): Use of pet names (darling, baby, etc), threesome, oral sex, cum swallowing, praise kink, breeding kink, masturbation, Double penetration (vaginal), cervix fucking, etc.

“Excuse me, Miss?” An unfamiliar voice rang out from behind you as you scoured hardened syrup from the wooden surface of your coffee bar.

You whirled around, tossing your rag aside and snatching a spatula off the other counter. The cafe had been empty five minutes ago, and you knew that you’d already locked all the doors. No matter how polite your intruder was, he shouldn’t have been able to get in.

“Don’t come any closer,” you warned, clutching the spatula like a lifeline and pointing it toward the voice. Even though it was just a small silicone and wood tool, you felt safer with it in your hands.

A tall young man in a well-cut black suit seemed to melt out of the shadows that lined the back exit hallway. He calmly walked closer as you brandished your “weapon” at him, running a hand through his unruly brown hair and smiling sheepishly.

“I swear I’m a friend; I’m not here to hurt you.” The mystery guest raised his hands placatingly, showing you that he was unarmed. “My name is Takuma Ino, and unless you want to be arrested for conspiring with the yakuza…. please come with me.”

There was a loud, booming knock at your front door as if on cue, and another unfamiliar male voice yelled. “This is Detective Zen’in with the Tokyo Police Department! I’m here about an urgent matter. Please open the door so we can speak.”

Ino bristled at the sound of the detective’s voice. He immediately grabbed your upper arm and attempted to tug you towards the back door, but the sudden action spooked you. Your reflexes completely took over, and you slammed the wooden handle of the spatula against his fingers with a resounding crack. The young man barely suppressed a yelp of surprise, snatching his hand back and hissing in pain.

“Owwww,” he groaned quietly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, but we have to go now.”

The detective knocked at your front door again, and you flinched, feeling very much like cornered prey. Ino nervously rubbed his fingers, trying to soothe the sting as he glanced at the front door. “Please, Miss….. Look, you can bring that thing and hit me again if I make you feel uncomfortable in any way, but please just come with me.”

The knocking grew more insistent, and the detective yelled again, “Ma’am, we know you’re in there. If you do not comply, we will forcefully open this door.”

Ino looked at you frantically as he mouthed another silent plea and gestured toward the exit. A potent, white-hot mixture of fear and adrenaline shot through you as you realized that you had no time left; you had to decide now. You could only hope you wouldn’t regret your choice as you nodded at Ino, grabbed your purse, and followed him out the back door into the night.

As soon as the two of you reached the back alley, Ino motioned for you to stay put. He glanced around, scanning the other small, connecting road. Due to the lack of foot traffic behind the stores, there were only a few street lights in the alley, and you could barely see anything beyond your feet. Ino seemed frustrated, muttering under his breath until suddenly, lights flicked on inside a sleek, expensive-looking black car near the road. Your savoir sighed in relief as he ushered you towards the vehicle, throwing the door open and nearly tossing you in.

It all happened so fast that you barely had time to think before Ino slammed your door closed and vaulted into the passenger’s seat. The driver instantly shut off all the interior lights and revved the engine, leaving you scrambling to buckle your seatbelt in the dark. Your fingers scraped over supple, well-conditioned leather as the car shot forward, hurtling through the back roads and away from the cafe. Ino and the driver carried on a hushed conversation across the front seat as you tried to process everything that had just happened, but there was one primary concern on your mind.

“Ino-san….” you spoke carefully into the dark, “Why do the police think that a Cafe owner is involved with the Yakuza?”

“It’ll make more sense when you meet the Oyabun… er, well, both of them. They can explain everything,” Ino offered, exchanging a look with the driver. You felt so frustrated; they had left you literally and metaphorically in the dark. All you could do was sit there in the quiet luxury of your surroundings, more questions and concerns brewing in your mind as the car sped off into the night.

You passed the time by staring out the window, trying to retain some bearing of your surroundings, but the car was traveling too quickly for you to read the names of any streets or buildings. Soon, the blurry grey cityscape disappeared altogether. Lush trees began to fill your vision as moonlight poured into the car. The treeline grew thicker and thicker, seemingly stretching on forever as the road began to incline steadily. You realized the two men were taking you deeper into the mountains outside Tokyo, and an icy chill shot through you.

“Oh, god…. They’re going to kill me out here, and no one will ever find my body.”

The driver must have sensed your quiet fear, and he sighed deeply. “Ino-kun, please tell me that you explained at least some of the situation to her.”

“I figured that the Oyabun would want to tell her most of it,” Ino grumbled, still nursing his hand, “We didn’t have a lot of time with that weasel of a detective outside her door, so I just told her to come with me if she didn’t want to be arrested, and that she could hit me with that spatula again if I scared her.”

The exhausted-looking driver removed one hand from the steering wheel and slapped it against his forehead, wincing and rubbing his eyes over the rim of his glasses.

“What!?!” Ino protested, throwing his arms out dramatically. “It seemed reasonable enough to me. That thing hurts, and besides-! She’s safe, and that’s what matters!”

In any other situation, you probably would’ve found the scene hilarious. The other man gave a long-suffering sigh, pointedly ignoring Ino as the young man continued to try and explain his reasoning, complete with a dramatic re-enactment of you smacking him. The driver slowed the vehicle in the middle of the road and pulled off to the side without another word. Your hand crept towards the door handle, just in case.

“Please…. don’t.” The driver clicked on the cabin light and turned around, looking at you tiredly as your fingertips brushed the only barrier that stood between your freedom, “I give you my word that it would be a mistake to leave now; please let me explain more thoroughly.”

You gazed back at him warily, moving your hand away from the handle just enough to signal that you’d hear him out. The driver had a kind but somewhat pinched and anxious face; for a yakuza driver, he seemed strangely considerate.

“My name is Kiyotaka Ijichi, and this is Takuma Ino. We both work for the Kintatsu-ikka, and our Oyabun-”

“Our boss!” Ino supplied helpfully, turning to give you a lopsided grin.

“We received a tip that you were wrongfully associated with two different Yakuza groups and placed in danger. That detective who arrived at your Cafe is not a good man; if he had reached you first, you’d likely be jailed over false charges. The Oyabun of our family sent us to pick you up and bring you somewhere safe.” Ijichi explained calmly, adjusting his glasses.

“That still doesn’t answer why they think I know you people.” You snapped back, a little more forcefully than intended. Hot, angry tears welled up, threatening to spill over at any moment as you huffed. “I’m innocent. I don’t associate with criminals.”

“Don’t panic,” Ijichi reassured you gently. “I may not have the answers, but I’m taking you to people who will. It may not mean much coming from me, but our organization is different than what you think. Let us prove to you that we aren’t just ‘criminals.’”

“It doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice,” you sniffled, toying with the hem of your sleeve.

Ijichi smiled at you, the expression softening his face and lightening the dark circles under his eyes. “We aren’t too far from our destination, but please try to relax some.”

He left the light on as he started to drive again, quickly pulling back onto the road with smooth precision. You sighed, suddenly aware of the massive amount of tension in your shoulders and back that wasn’t there an hour ago. Ijichi leaving the light on was a small gesture, but it did help you relax. Ino remained silent in the passenger seat, and every so often, you could see him glance at you using the rearview mirror, but the atmosphere was no longer tense. Still, you couldn’t shake all of the anxiety from your mind as the car traveled on.

After a few more minutes passed, Ijichi turned the car down an almost-hidden road, and the massive outline of a house appeared through the dark curtain of trees. As you drew closer, the soft glow of lanterns lined a well-paved stone driveway, growing brighter and illuminating more of the multi-floored house and surrounding gardens. Your mouth parted in a silent exclamation as you stared out the window. It was gorgeous…. dark and sleek, like a modern mansion, but heavily influenced by the style of a traditional Japanese home. Like many other people who lived in Tokyo, you’d only ever lived in a tiny, very drab city apartment; there was no way you could fathom anyone owning something that massive.

You tried to stifle your amazement, quietly reminding yourself that you weren’t here to ogle some crime boss’s home as Ijichi pulled up and around to the front steps. Ino stepped out, opened your door, and offered his hand with a small smile. As you looked out, you were distracted by two massive stone dragon statues that flanked the steps. Their teeth were permanently bared in a protective snarl as a warning for those who entered, and you shivered.

“Kintatsu-Ikka,” Ino reminded you coyly.

Tentatively, you accepted the young man’s help, and he led you onto the beautiful wooden engawa that surrounded the entire mansion. He didn’t even need to unlock the door; he simply pushed it open to lead you inside.

Your jaw dropped despite your best attempt to keep a neutral expression; the interior was somehow even more beautiful than the exterior. Moonlight entwined with lanternlight pooled through massive floor-to-ceiling windows, shining on dark, polished wood floors. A crackling fire burned in a glass fireplace beside a common area furnished with plush-looking leather couches and chairs.

Notably, the central couch was occupied by a young boy in the most rumpled suit you’d ever seen. He was completely sprawled out in a position that made your back hurt just to look at, watching a cheesy action movie on a glossy, widescreen T.V. that probably cost more than your entire yearly salary.

Ino chuckled at your awe-struck expression, “I know, right? I think everyone had that reaction the first time they saw the place. Our Oyabun has good taste.”

The young boy perked up at the sound of Ino’s voice, nearly falling off the couch as he tried to stand up. “Kyodai! You’re back!”

He bounced onto the floor with youthful zeal, altogether abandoning the movie he had been so engrossed in and running up to the two of you. “Hi, I’m Yuji. Who are you?”

Yuji cocked his head at you in curiosity, the sudden movement causing his strawberry-pink hair to flop to one side. You smiled and introduced yourself, charmed by the sweet boy, but your inner thoughts only grew more complicated.

“This sweet boy is supposed to be a criminal?? Why do none of these supposed Yakuza act or look anything like the stories?”

Of course, you had heard more than your fair share of stories about the shady criminal organizations that Japan was so infamous for. Yakuza were supposed to be malicious gangsters who only pretended to follow an honor code. They were supposed to be rough, low-life criminals who had simply been given a spit-shine and a suit, but the young boy who stood in front of you seemed like an overeager puppy, energetic and harmless.

Yuji’s eyes shone as he recognized your name. “Oh! You’re-”

“Can’t talk now, little bro. She’s got a meeting with your dad.” Ino interrupted him, pulling you past before you could register what he said.

Ino led you past a few rooms where the glossy wooden floors gave way to traditional tatami mats. You turned down another hallway, passing more closed doors and what looked like a sizeable library before the two of you arrived at the end of the hallway, where one more door waited. The soft glow of lamplight shone out from the frame, signaling that it was occupied. Your stomach fluttered anxiously as Ino stepped up and knocked softly. A low, delighted chuckle came from inside, and your heart stopped as the door finally swung open.

“N-Nanami-san?!?” You managed to squeak out, almost dropping your purse in surprise.

You had no idea who you had expected to meet, but it certainly wasn’t one of your favorite longtime customers. Moonlight shone down on Nanami Kento's tall, well-built figure, further softening his sharp features as he sat behind a massive wooden desk on the far side of the room. Despite the late hour, he was still dressed in the tan suit and spotted tie he always seemed to favor. A few stray strands of Nanami’s beautiful golden hair framed his face as he nursed a glass of whiskey, raising the crystal highball glass to his lips for a taste of the amber liquid. He let his gaze wash over you, almost as if he was savoring your presence alongside the alcohol.

A low chuckle came from behind the door, and a raspy, darkly intelligent voice teased. “Oh? I didn’t think you’d ignore me…. I’m hurt.”

Your heart had stopped earlier, but now it just left your body entirely as Higuruma Hiromi stepped into view. As always, he was almost the visual opposite of Nanami but no less handsome in his black suit. Hiromi walked towards you, tall and lanky, darkly attractive with mussed hair and a near-permanent look of exhaustion hidden behind a small grin.

“Don’t badger her, Hiromi. She’s had a long day.” Nanami chastised firmly.

Hiromi adjusted the sleeves of his crisp dress shirt and gave you a lopsided grin that made your stomach churn. “Sorry, sorry. I was trying to lighten the mood.”

The two men were night and day from each other, but they were both your favorite patrons by far, each visiting the Cafe on the same day every week. As certain as night became day, Hiromi showed up on Monday mornings, and Nanami visited you every Thursday. You had grown to cherish their company, even allowing them to come and visit with you in the early hours before the Cafe actually opened, something you had never let anyone else do. However, neither man had ever mentioned the other, and you had never seen them at the same time. You had absolutely no reason to think the men had known each other.

A memory flashed through your mind as you stared at Nanami, gasping for air.

He had come to visit even earlier than usual one morning, walking in while you were tending to the pastry dough in your small professional kitchen.

Nanami had poked his head in to find you listening to an old song on your small radio, swaying your hips and humming along to the infectious tune. You were in your own little world, completely oblivious to his presence as you systematically filled croissant dough with chocolate and plopped them onto an awaiting tray.

You moved to place the tray into the oven but tripped over a rag on the way over, crying out as you braced to hit the hard tile floor…. but the pain you had expected never arrived. Instead, you landed against a broad chest and surprisingly muscular arms that broke your fall. The pastries hit the floor with a loud clatter, but it didn’t matter as Nanami chuckled in your ear, his low, rich voice bringing a deep flush to your cheeks as his hand stroked your waist.

“Careful, now.”

Only a few weeks later, Hiromi knocked on your front door one morning and stumbled in, tired and exhausted from “a long night at work,” but he had come anyway, wholly unwilling to miss his visit with you.

“You’d worry too much if I didn’t come,” he’d grinned at you, teasing but infuriatingly correct.

You had steadfastly ignored him, instead choosing to chastise the exhausted man for not taking better care of himself. You made his usual order from memory while making him swear that he’d get more rest. As you pushed the warm cappuccino into his hands, Hiromi’s clever fingers brushed against yours in a way that made your heart flutter.

“Anything for you,” he had said, looking into your eyes with a smile that made your knees weak.

You lurched back to reality as Hiromi led you to a plush leather armchair and gently helped you sit back. Your movements were slow and robotic, but you didn’t pull away from the warmth of his hand.

“What… what the fuck is going on?” You suddenly felt breathless, like you were drowning in the deep end of a pool. Hurt and anger flashed through you like wildfire. You had let these men in. Not only that, you had trusted them and grown to care for each of them.

“I’m sorry. We should have told you sooner.” Nanami sighed, “We both agree that keeping you in the dark was wrong, but please give us the chance to explain. The last thing either of us wanted was to hurt you.”

Hiromi reluctantly pulled away from your side, returning to take his seat next to Nanami. He nodded in agreement with the blonde man’s words and took a deep drink from his wine glass before he spoke. “We may not have been completely forthright with everything, but I promise that neither my brother nor I ever lied to you.”

“But… I thought you were a salaryman, and I thought you were a lawyer?? You didn’t ever mention each other, but now you’re brothers? I thought I knew you. What are you… Who are you?” You questioned furiously, gesturing between the two men.

All the stolen touches, all the charged glances, and honeyed words... Were they all a lie?

You’d wanted one or both men so desperately that you’d deleted the dating app on your phone, praying that eventually, you’d work up the courage to ask one of them out. At night, you dreamed about how they’d touch you; in your wildest dreams, you even thought about what having both of them at once would be like.

Both men had the decency to look ashamed as a single, angry tear rolled down your cheek. Hiromi tugged at his tie as if it had grown too tight, and Nanami sighed deeply, bowing his head. “We aren’t brothers in the literal sense, but we are ‘brothers’ because Hiromi and I joined the same Yakuza family when we were young. You may have heard Ino refer to another member of the Kintatsu-Ikka as ‘shatei’ or ‘little brother,’ which is the same concept.”

Hiromi finished fiddling with his tie, leaving it undone around his neck. “As for your other question, I am still a lawyer, and he does have some salaryman duties; Kento still handles a lot of booking-related concerns because he’s too damn good with numbers. We both started our careers in administration….” he paused, selecting his next words carefully, “...before we decided that certain things in our organization needed to change.”

You stared at the desk, steadfastly refusing to look at either man as Nanami continued, “Our family split into two rival factions, and Hiromi and I each took control of one side. We reshaped both organizations but left them separate because it allowed us a certain advantage over other, much less savory groups. My men became known as the Kintatsu-ikka, and Hiromi formed the Kageakuma-Kai.”

The names bounced around in your brain, and suddenly, something clicked. You had heard of them; some of the other shopkeepers around your district had specifically purchased protection from one of the two groups. They told you that the men were kind and honorable and could help you if any other Yakuza families tried to trouble you.

“Why didn’t you tell me who you were in the first place?” Your cheeks flushed hot, and you drew your arms around your body, desperate for some comfort from the way your heart ached. “Were you wanting to play with my emotions… to make me look like a fool?”

Both men looked instantly mortified.

“No. Absolutely not.” Hiromi said firmly, frowning as he set his wine glass down with a soft clink.

“That is the last thing we wanted,” Nanami’s handsome brow furrowed deeply as he agreed.

“You must understand that in our line of work, we don’t meet many genuine people,” Hiromi mused, studying how his red wine swirled against the glass. “Most people we meet either instantly fear us or they want something from us. You…. were an outlier; you were kind, warm, and just-.”

“Lovely,” Nanami murmured, finishing the raven-haired man’s sentence. “You were lovely. By the time we realized that we needed to tell you, neither of us knew how to. It isn’t an excuse, but we do want to make it up to you.”

“W-what am I supposed to do now?” You stammered. “Ijichi-san mentioned that the detective who showed up at the Cafe today was a ‘bad man.’ What does that even mean?”

If you had any doubt that the two men in front of you were telling the truth about being Yakuza, it immediately vanished as their expressions hardened in an instant. Nanami’s normally warm, brown gaze carried the full weight of scorched earth, and Higuruma’s dark irises glinted like obsidian.

“Don’t worry; he will be taken care of,” Hiromi muttered, staring intensely over the rim of his wine glass. His tone had a dark, glittering edge, and the implication behind his words made you freeze.

“The two of you… You hurt people, don’t you?” You questioned softly, almost afraid of the answer.

Hiromi and Nanami looked at each other briefly before the weight of their combined gaze settled back on you.

“We do, but only people who deserve it,” Nanami said plainly as if he were discussing the weather. “Both the Kintatsu-Ikka and the Kageakuma-Kai are groups that actively follow the code of bushido. We practice honor and restraint but do not show those virtues to those who do not deserve them.”

“That weasel knows that you likely have nothing to do with our organization. He’s a corrupt cop that another Association bought with their blood money; you’re innocent, and he’s trying to hurt you.” Hiromi spat darkly.

Both men radiated a fiercely protective aura that filled the room and made your heart skip a beat. You had been absolutely terrified earlier, and you had even felt betrayed by both men. They had certainly made a mistake by keeping you in the dark about their identities, but they had also done their best to fix it by helping you and answering all of your questions. A warmth began to blossom in your chest, replacing the fear and anger that previously resided there. With the intensity and honesty of your conversation, you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that both Nanami and Higuruma would walk through fire to keep you safe.

“So…. What do I do now, then?” You questioned with a soft smile, trying your best to extend an olive branch.

Their intensity faded, giving way to sheer relief as Nanami exhaled softly, and some of the tension left Higuruma’s shoulders.

“I’d like for you to stay here, at least for a little while,” Nanami responded gently. “This house is safer than almost any other place in Tokyo.”

Higuruma huffed into his wine glass, “I think you’re vastly underselling it, but I agree. My place would be the other option, but it’s in the middle of the city, and I don’t think it’s safe for you to re-enter Tokyo just yet.”

You looked down at your coffee-stained clothes and then back to the two men, trying to figure out how to ask what you’d do about basic necessities. Nanami caught on to your dilemma quickly, and he simply smiled and waved his hand. “Oh, don’t worry. One of the guest rooms is already fully set up and we can have anything you need brought in tomorrow.”

“We’ve caused you enough stress,” Higuruma acknowledged with an apologetic smile. “I can easily speak for both of us when I say that we’d like to take good care of you while you’re here.”

The lamplight reflected off his dark eyes, which were slightly hazy from the wine. You blushed and swallowed nervously at his words; your frustration had evaporated, leaving you painfully aware of the feelings you still harbored toward both men.

“You’re to treat my home as your own while you’re here,” Nanami added softly. “Ino and Yuji will keep you safe if we have to step out during the day, but both Hiromi and I will be here all night, every night. We will do everything in our power to resolve this matter and keep you safe.”

The two men shared a pointed look before turning back to face you. Higuruma and Nanami gazed at you with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.

“It must be obvious by now that both of us… care for you,” Hiromi murmured, his black eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. “If you allow us, we want to make up for our mistakes. We want to care for you- honestly, we’d both like to spoil you rotten.”

Your breath caught in your throat as Nanami nodded in agreement. “We both just want to see you safe and happy.”

“Thank you. I feel much better now with both of you here,” you murmured, desperately trying to keep your voice from shaking.

It was true. You did feel much better, but you were also completely exhausted from the day's harrowing events. Your body had held so much stress and tension over the last few hours that almost every inch of your skin hurt.

Hiromi noticed your discomfort, frowning slightly. “Kento, let’s save the rest of this for later. She’s beyond exhausted.”

“How about a hot shower and some sleep?” Nanami suggested softly, and you nodded in vigorous agreement.

“That sounds lovely.” You murmured wistfully, already imagining how the hot water would soothe your aches and pains.

Without further fanfare, Nanami and Higuruma got up to escort you from the office. Your legs were wobbly from sheer exhaustion, but you managed to stand and follow the two men without any major issues. As they led you through the house, it was empty; everyone else had either gone home or had long since gone to bed.

“This will be your room, and the one next to it is mine. Hiromi is on your other side, and my son sleeps across the hall,” Nanami said with a smile, gesturing at each door in turn. If you need anything, please let one of us know.”

“I will,” you murmured, returning his smile.

Both men studied you carefully in the dim lighting. They seemed reluctant just to leave you alone, but Hiromi finally broke the silence rather awkwardly. “Er, well, I can only think of one more thing you’ll need to know. We wanted to give you clean clothes to sleep in, but we don’t have many women around… Anyway, we both left you a few choices that should be comfortable enough.”

Hiromi’s voice was raspier than usual as he looked to the side and scratched his head sheepishly. A light flush had spread across the lawyer's cheeks if your eyes weren’t tricking you in the dim lighting.

“Ok….?” You said tentatively. Part of you questioned his reaction, but the tired half of your brain just decided to go with it.

“Good night, then. We are glad that you arrived safely.” Nanami whispered with a small smile as the two men headed off to their respective rooms.

Unsurprisingly, the room they had you staying in was no less beautiful than the rest of the house, but you were far too tired to inspect it thoroughly. All you cared about was the large, soft bed and the attached bathroom as you opened the door, threw off your clothes, and immediately jumped into the shower. The warm water felt just as good as you’d thought, and the spacious bathroom was stocked with any luxury product you could ever need. When you were ready to get out, your skin felt soft and wonderfully pampered.

You still didn’t fully realize why Hiromi had been so sheepish until after you had toweled off and stepped back into the bedroom. A small, multicolored mountain on top of the dresser caught your eye, and you audibly gasped when you realized that it was entirely made up of men’s clothing. There were luxuriously soft sweatpants, pattered pajama pants, socks, hoodies, and many different styles of well-loved T-shirts, all laid out for you to choose from. Honestly, there were enough clothes in the pile that you could easily have pajamas or comfortable loungewear for an entire month.

Eventually, you decided on a pair of lovely knit socks, some soft grey sweatpants that were clearly from Nanami’s wardrobe, and one of Higuruma’s old law school shirts. It was almost unfair; the clothes smelled like a perfect mixture of the two men. A heady blend of leather, aftershave, tea, and tobacco clouded your senses, and you blushed, realizing that you’d be wearing their clothes and nothing else since you had no clean underwear to put on. As you dressed, a shiver ran down your spine, but it wasn’t from fear; no, this was a shiver of pure need.

Both Higuruma and Nanami had been recurring visitors in your dreams for many months, and you had only grown more desperate to know how they’d feel and how they’d taste. You wanted to know if they’d be rough, pressing you into the mattress with deep, almost brutal thrusts, or if they’d be slow and sensual, coaxing orgasm after orgasm from you with their tongues and fingers, making you beg to feel their cocks. Maybe they’d switch between the two, or maybe they’d want you on top. Honestly, you couldn’t even tell what scenario you wanted more.

Your desire for both men had grown to the point where they were all you could think about. No porn quelled your appetite; no erotic novels brought you relief from the deep-seated desire that throbbed deep in your core and refused to leave for hours at a time. Honestly, you felt like it was driving you insane. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost swear the two men sent you into some kind of feral heat because you were always obscenely wet every night, nearly sobbing in frustration as your pussy begged for something more than your own fingers.

You’d tried overstimulation, erotic ASMR, vibrators, plugs, and even lube meant to replicate cum… literally everything you could think of. You tried to stuff your aching cunt full of every toy imaginable, desperate to find some relief, but nothing truly worked. Sure, you’d eventually orgasm, but it was never as satisfying as you needed it to be, and it did nothing to sate your desire. If anything, it was like only being able to swat at an itch instead of scratching it outright.

Tonight was even worse than usual; the way Nanami and Higuruma had been so protective of you earlier had only added fuel to the fire. You clenched your thighs together in sheer desperation as you slid into bed and slipped your hand underneath the waistband of your—no, Nanami’s—sweatpants with a whimper.

“Both of us care for you…. We want to spoil you….”

Their earlier words rang in your ears as you slid a finger through your folds teasingly, biting the swell of your lower lip to stifle the next pitiful whine that escaped. Your poor little clit was already throbbing, so puffy and sensitive that you had to turn over and bury your face into the pillow as you circled it with your fingers. The men you had fantasized about for so long were literally on either side of you as you touched yourself to thoughts of them, and you could only pray that you were being quiet enough-

There was a single, sharp knock on the door before it cracked open, catching you right at the moment your fingers slid into your soaked cunt.

You could hear Hiromi’s muffled voice, his tone urgent as he asked, “Are you okay? We heard you cry- oh.”

Two sets of footsteps entered the room and approached you on the bed as you slipped your hand out from between your legs, threw the sheet over your head, and prayed to somehow evaporate on the spot.

“Is there something you want to tell us, sweetheart?” Nanami rasped, voice low and thick with barely restrained lust.

“C’mon now, don’t be shy,” Hiromi purred, drawing another whimper from your lips. “We want to help you.”

You babbled an incoherent mess of words into the pillow, and Nanami slowly pulled the sheet back from your body. He hooked a thick finger under your jaw, gently pulling your face away from the pillow.

“Need you to use your words for us, darling.” The blonde man murmured.

“‘M so sorry… just need it so bad. Please, I need you both.” You sobbed shamefully, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you clenched your thighs together in desperation.

Something instantly snapped in both men. You felt the bed dip behind you as Nanami crouched down to pull you into a searing kiss. Hiromi slotted himself between your legs, pulling them apart, and you whined desperately against Nanami’s lips as the man between your legs pressed his gorgeous, hooked nose directly against your still-clothed cunt.

Higuruma inhaled deeply, luxuriating in the scent of your arousal as he growled and cursed under his breath, “Fuck, she’s so goddamn wet already.”

Nanami sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, nipping it lightly with his teeth as you moaned again, completely lost in your desire. Hiromi licked greedily at the damp patch of fabric that separated his hot mouth from your cunt, shoving his face even further in between your legs like he intended to devour you through the fabric of Nanami’s sweatpants.

“Ngh, ‘Romi,” You whined against Nanami’s lips as you kissed him sloppily, drawing a deep chuckle from the blonde.

“What about me, hmmm?” He teased. “If he gets to taste your pretty little pussy, what do I get?

Nanami trailed his lips across your jaw and down the corner of your neck, licking and biting at your pulse point before making his way up to coo against the shell of your ear, “I think I have an idea.”

You had never been so aroused in your entire life. All you could do was lay there as Nanami stepped away to undress, and Hiromi pulled you backward. He ripped off your clothes and coaxed you to your hands and knees, stroking your back and sides and whispering hoarse praises as you forced your jelly-like limbs to support the weight of your body.

As soon as you had all four limbs solidly planted on the bed, Hiromi’s patience snapped, and he lurched forward, sinking his tongue into your dripping cunt. The lawyer moaned shamelessly against your folds as he explored every inch of you with his tongue, kissing and sucking at your labia before reaching forward to stimulate your puffy little clit.

“Kento, she tastes so fucking good.” He groaned, leaning back to kiss and nip at the pillowy, soft skin of your inner thighs. You shook above him, back arched in pure hedonistic bliss as Higuruma devoured you like a man starved.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as Hiromi wrapped his hands around your hipbones, encouraging you to thrust back against his eager mouth. Nanami groaned at the sight of the raven-haired man devouring you as he returned to the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, and your eyes fluttered open again. Suddenly, you were treated to the sight of the tall, blonde man completely nude and kneeling in front of you.

Moonlight shone through the window, once again illuminating Nanami Kento's form, and your mouth went bone-dry. Sure, you had noticed how broad his chest was and how his suit jacket clung to his form, but now you could watch the way his muscles rippled and flexed with every move. Certainly, nothing had prepared you for the massive, golden dragon proudly inked over his entire right arm. It started at his wrist, wrapping up and around his shoulder to bare its fangs in a ferocious snarl across his pectoral. Your gaze trailed further down, past defined abdominal muscles to where his erection stood proudly against his belly. It was certainly larger than average, but what stood out the most was how thick his erect cock was.

You whimpered, and your cunt throbbed around Hiromi’s tongue as your gaze traveled to the swollen tip that was already starting to leak pre-cum. The raven-haired lawyer pulled back from your thighs, chuckling hoarsely, “I think our pretty baby likes what she sees, Kento. You should’ve felt the way she just squeezed me like a damn vice.”

Nanami’s large hand cupped your jaw, stroking it with his thumb as he leaned down and pulled you forward into another bruising kiss. In doing so, he accidentally pulled you forward and away from Hiromi’s mouth, causing him to growl in displeasure.

“Don’t worry, we’ll learn to share,” Nanami whispered against your lips, trailing his hand down to palm your tender breasts. “Are you going to let me feel that pretty mouth, sweetheart?”

“Please…. Wanna taste you.” You nodded rapidly, already almost salivating in anticipation as the golden-haired man rose and shifted his hips forward. Without any further encouragement, you licked his swollen tip, swirling your tongue around it to taste the heady musk of his pre-cum. His thick cock twitched, and Nanami groaned your name softly, guiding his shaft towards your plush, kiss-swollen lips with one of his hands.

You greedily sucked the thick tip into your mouth with an audible pop as Higuruma continued to torture you with his tongue and clever fingers, still completely drunk on your taste. Nanami cupped your cheek with one of his large hands before moving that same hand into your hair, entwining his fingers with the strands. From the look of intense concentration on his face and the way his abdomen twitched, you could easily tell that he was fighting the desire to sheath his cock in your throat all at once.

“Fuck, sweetheart…. you have such a perfect mouth,” Nanami groaned hoarsely, reflexively tightening his grip on your hair.

You moaned around his cock in response, causing even more of the thick shaft to slide in.

“Perfect, hah, beautiful…. Divine.” He growled more praises as you slowly took more and more of him until, finally, you nuzzled your nose against the coarse, honey-blonde hairs that trailed up from the base of his cock.

You had never felt so perfectly and deliciously used as Nanami began to thrust his hips shallowly, sliding his thick cock in and out of your throat. Hiromi’s clever fingers kept circling your engorged clit in the most delicious way, and you launched higher and higher into ecstasy between the two men.

The band of pleasure in your stomach began to tighten uncontrollably, causing you to moan and drool even more. You could actually hear how aroused you were as Hiromi drilled his fingers into your soaked cunt, easily rubbing against the spongy spot that had you whining like a bitch in heat.

“Please cum, baby. Need to feel you cum.” Hiromi groaned reverently, almost like he was praying. He reached down to squeeze the base of his own cock hard, trying to keep from cumming in his pants.

“You're doing so well for us. Please, sweetheart.” Nanami joined in as his thrusts became shaky.

You wanted to tell them that you would, that you were trying, and that you were so close to the best orgasm you’ve ever had…. but you didn’t even get to finish the thought before your bliss hit you like a falling star, sending you shattering over the edge into hedonistic oblivion.

You cried out around Nanami’s cock, soaking Hiromi’s face in your arousal as your orgasm was ripped out of you. A shaky curse tumbled from Nanami’s lips as he felt his swollen balls clench hard. As if you’d started a chain reaction, thick ropes of his cum filled your throat, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you registered Higuruma’s hoarse cry as you greedily swallowed every last drop of Kento’s cum.

After a few minutes passed, Nanami gently pulled you off of his softening length. He held you against his broad chest, pressing reverent kisses to the top of your head and whispering praises against your skin. Hiromi remained pressed against the mattress for another moment, left completely spent from his own unexpected orgasm, but eventually, he slid up behind you, pressing kisses to your shoulder blades.

“Beautiful girl, you did so well for us,” He murmured hoarsely, allowing you to slide into his arms as Nanami passed you over and slid out of bed to run the three of you a bath.

You looked at him with eyes half-lidded in complete exhaustion. “‘Romi, didn’t get to make you feel good,” you fretted.

“Oh, but you did,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to each of your eyelids. “You tasted so good that I came in my damn pants like a teenager.”

—

After that night, you rarely went more than two days without warming the bed of one or both men. True to Nanami’s word, he and Hiromi spoiled you rotten with anything you could ever want, and both men quickly became excellent at sharing you. You lightened up their lives in a way that did not go unnoticed by those around them, but the three of you hadn’t yet discussed what would happen with your relationship when you were entirely safe and able to return to the city. The uncertainty weighed heavily on your mind for a few weeks, and you finally decided to ask the two men.

A few nights after you’d made up your mind, the opportunity to ask presented itself when the three of you went to the onsen late at night. Both Nanami and Hiromi used the spa and the attached bathing facilities almost religiously, finding it an excellent way to relax from the stress of their day. Like other Yakuza, their tattoos barred them from entering any public bathhouse, so they simply built their own far away from prying eyes.

“Ken, Hiromi, I’ve got a question for the two of you,” You murmured, slipping into the warm water of the sizeable, man-made hot spring.

Higuruma chuckled, pulling you close to nibble the shell of your ear playfully. “This could be trouble,” he teased, passing you to Nanami, who chose to press a soft, affectionate kiss to your cheek.

You smiled at the two men, lightly smacking Hiromi’s arm for the quip. He growled at you playfully, surging forward to chase you around the small pool. Eventually, he caught you and tossed you over his lithely muscular back like a sack of potatoes, giving you a perfect view of the black, swirling Oni mask tattooed across his skin.

He returned you to your rightful place between him and Nanami as the blonde man scoffed at him, although both of you knew the stern dragon secretly loved your antics.

“You were saying, sweetheart?” Kento asked pointedly.

“Mhhmmm,” you nodded slowly, “I… I wanted to know what’s going to happen when it’s time for me to return to the city.”

Both men looked at each other pointedly, just as they had on the night your relationship actually began.

“Well, we’ve been discussing that, actually,” Hiromi started with a small smile. “Kento and I have concluded that it’ll be beneficial for the Kintatsu-Ikka and the Kageakuma-Kai to officially rejoin forces.”

You stared at them blankly, “That’s good… I think?”

“Yes, it is,” Nanami murmured smoothly. “Funnily enough, we both seemed to conclude that most important alliances are forged through marriage.”

“And we aren’t planning on marrying each other, so, naturally, the best option would be to find a willing third party to act as a proxy.” Higuruma grinned at you.

Tears of joy pricked at your eyes, “You know…. if you’re asking me to marry you, you may want to ask in slightly less legal terms.”

Nanami slid up behind you, pulling you back against his muscular chest. He leaned down to kiss your shoulder reverently, cradling your body as if you were the most precious jewel.“Then allow me. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Hiromi grew more serious, but his smile never faded as he knelt in the water in front of you and cupped your hand in his, “And I would also like to ask for your hand in marriage. Let us make you the happiest woman in the world, darling.”

You pulled both men in to embrace you as tears of pure happiness rolled down your cheeks, splashing into the steaming water. “I love you both so much.”

Nanami and Hiromi wound their arms around you, completely interlocking your body with theirs.

“There’s one more thing you’ll need to know, love,” Nanami murmured next to your ear.

“Oh?” You purred.

“If you agree to marry us, there’s a certain…. competition we will need your help with.”

“And what would that be?” You asked curiously, glancing between the two men.

Nanami gently reached his hand to trail over your lower stomach, and your breath caught in your throat as you realized what they were about to ask.

“We want you to give both of us children, darling,” Hiromi husked, roaming his hands over your body, “But instead of planning who will go first… we want it to be a surprise.”

“You want to see who can get me pregnant first?” You asked in a daze. Both men inhaled deeply at your words, and you could feel them start to harden against you almost instantly.

“We’ve both seen the way you dote on the babies who visited the cafe… and the way you look at baby videos on your phone with that soft little smile on your face,” Nanami murmured, “Yuji could use a sibling or two… Just say the word, and we’ll give you a baby of your very own.”

Your face flushed hotly at the idea of growing round and full with their children, and you had to bite your lip to stifle a whimper. The three of you could likely fill this spacious mountain mansion with children, and you knew that Hiromi and Kento would make the perfect fathers. They both knew when to be stern versus caring, and they’d protect their family with their lives if needed.

“Fuck, you’ll be such a pretty mommy,” Hiromi groaned, palming the swell of your breasts in the water. “We’ll get to see these all full and heavy…”

“If I say yes…. Can we start now?” You ask breathlessly, drawing a hoarse laugh from Nanami and a pleased grin from Higurumua.

“I think it’d be a shame to waste any time,” Kento said, picking you up bridal-style and carrying you from the pool deck with Hiromi hot on his heels.

–

In no time at all, you were lying on your back in Nanami’s spacious bed with both of your future husbands hell-bent on bringing you to the pinnacle of bliss. You’d already cum twice, and now Kento was sprawled out between your legs with your knees hooked over his shoulders, softly lapping at your clit as Hiromi kneaded your breasts with his clever fingers. Every so often, the lawyer leaned down to pop one of your hardened nipples into his hot mouth, sucking on the bud until you cried out.

“Ken… ‘Romi, nnngh, it feels so good….. too much,” You whined desperately at the blissful almost-pain of overstimulation.

“C’mon, baby. Make another mess for us, yeah?” Hiromi begged shamelessly, leaning up to kiss you deeply. He swirled his tongue into your mouth at the same time Nanami swiped his tongue across your clit, and you saw stars, wantonly moaning into the kiss.

Nanami repeated the movement with his tongue, and your hips bucked off the bed, but the strong man simply pinned you back down with a growl that made your clit throb.

“Darling, darling, fuck- so beautiful. You can do it,” The raven-haired man praised you desperately, and your back arched off the bed as your clit throbbed pitifully. Every nerve ending in your body lit up at once as your orgasm ripped through you, causing you to shudder between the two men.

Nanami pushed himself off the bed and back onto his knees as he wiped the visible traces of your arousal from his chin and licked them from his fingers, smiling down at you in a manner that made you shiver with anticipation.

“We’re going to fill you up now, darling,” he purred roughly, “One of us is about to get you pregnant, so what do you say?”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you mumbled over and over as Hiromi turned you over and laid you against his chest, making sure your legs were hooked over his. He palmed his erection between your legs, using his fingers to coat his thick shaft with your arousal before slowly sliding you down onto his length.

You moaned in tandem with the raven-haired lawyer as he bottomed out inside you. He was only slightly less thick than Nanami, but his cock was beautifully long. The swollen tip greedily rubbed against your cervix, almost pleading for it to accept his babies as Hiromi tipped his head back, panting heavily. You had to claw at the sheets on either side of him to keep from moving your hips.

“C’mon, Ken… ‘s not easy to stay still.” Hiromi groaned.

Nanami chuckled roughly, positioning himself behind you and threading his legs over Higuruma’s but under yours. “Baby, do you remember the word if we need to stop?”

You nodded frantically. “Please… I remember; just please, Ken.”

With another long groan, Nanami positioned his swollen cock next to Hiromi’s, doused himself with lube, and very slowly began to push in. At first, it felt as if you were being completely split in half by the two men. You were well past properly aroused, but the intense stretch of taking two thick cocks at once simply took time. Fortunately, both men were more than willing to be patient.

“Good fucking girl,” Kento moaned as he finally sank all the way in, his balls resting against your plush ass and his cock nestled directly on top of Hiromi’s as they took you at the same time. You sobbed against the dark-haired man’s chest, and he cursed loudly in return; the pressure and heat and delicious friction were almost too much for everyone involved to last any proper amount of time.

Nanami began to slowly thrust in and out of your core, which was now soaked with a hedonistic mixture of your cum, a generous amount of lube, and the pre-cum from both men. Every thrust sent him rubbing against Hiromi’s cock, creating delicious friction for both men and giving you the overwhelming feeling of being obscenely full.

Miraculously, the three of you managed to last another three minutes before you came unbelievably hard, convulsing between the two men as your vision turned white. As soon as your core began to flutter around Hiromi and Kento, both men were gone. They each came with a hoarse cry, painting your womb white with their combined seed as your cunt greedily milked it from their swollen balls.

Eventually, the two men slowly recovered their senses, but you were still absolutely floating. Hiromi pulled out of you first, motioning to Nanami to keep their cum tucked safely inside you. The blonde did so happily, gently keeping you plugged with his cock and fingers until the other man returned with enough clean pillows to prop your hips up properly. After sorting out your positioning, they quickly cleaned themselves off and returned to your side, ready to spoil completely rotten you once you woke up.

“Oh, and may the best man win.” Hiromi lazily jabbed at Kento, who simply scoffed with his own satisfied grin.

“The way I see it, we both already won.”

Tagging some friends: @pseudowho @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @ashotofspotchka @ironandglass @amyroswell @cassandrablacker @lady-valtieri @justanothersadperson93 @orangecremepuff @belle-smith07 @outspokenbrat @enchantedsylveon @khaleesihavilliard @spam-love @silverliningsandstorms @msniks @panteramarron @eldritchbeauty @unoriginalidea @cindyneko-strider @markleeisdabestdrug @gabbyburgers @its-chickenwing-450 @luneariaa @akiiireix @tojispookiebear @dangoank0 @ifuckinghateschool @barryatsumu @voids-universe @mahgyu @themoonmonologues @byul9158 @starlitnotes @makingtimemine @mischiefmanaged71 @galactict3a @dreahmdere @mirrors-musings

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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months

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what if engel is a virgin but insanely boy crazy 👁👄👁 and she will/can never not be

Hoooo boy!

NSFW below the cut

So, um. Reader never told König if she's experienced or not (if she was a virgin then my thoughts and prayers are with her.) Part of König's hostility in the crazy mating scene comes from his belief that Engel is not a virgin. He is extremely jealous of everyone reader might've had before him, so he guides his frustration to heated, possessive sex, stripping her with a knife, and so on.

But if we imagine you told him it's your first time, then things would go slightly differently. König would be much more delicate with you!

And good God… He would be even more enamored. You're kind, you're sweet, you're innocent and you're a virgin too?

König can’t believe his luck. You're just perfect. He can’t stand the thought of you with other men so finding out you're in fact untouched is only a blessing. König wants to be the only one who makes you scream and sigh. And what an ultimate fantasy: he gets to corrupt a pure, pristine virgin (of course König would never put it this way. He's simply introducing you to pleasure. Nothing wrong with that, right? He has good intentions! He's the best choice if you wish to feel good, ja ❤️)

So, König tries to keep his cool as he asks if this is what you truly want (yes? please say yes) and if this is the right time (this is as good a time as any, you just need to trust him!), is he truly the man you want to give yourself to? (tell him he’s the one, you will not regret it.)

He tries to be a gentleman and at the same time can't keep his hands off you. Hands steal their way under your clothes as he tries to persuade you by whispering things like: "I will be good to you, there’s no need to be afraid. I will be gentle, I promise…" But it’s difficult to believe anything he says because his hands are trembling, the whole man is trembling and throbbing and panting already.

If and when you're willing to have sex, König will take you in a classic missionary. No pounding from behind, no crazy unhinged mating press. And he prepares you first! With his tongue, perhaps pulls out an orgasm or two so that you will be relaxed and ready for him. It’s very likely that König pumps himself through an orgasm too while pleasing you with his mouth because he’s waited so long for this moment. Your taste and the sounds you make as he licks you to ruin are far too much. He will erupt in mere minutes and then be hard again in no time for the main event.

König tries so, so hard to control the urge to just plow you until your eyes roll in your head. He tries his best not to simply pound himself straight into oblivion. He wanted you before, sure, but now his want is doubled. Tripled. He fears he will hurt you and basically shakes from the effort to restrain himself as he finally enters you.

He goes a little over the top with the praise, too... You feel so good, nothing has ever felt better, you're such a good girl when you said yes, Lieber Gott you look cute like this, he knew you were made for him, etc. And he wants to know that you feel good. Not just to check if you're ok, but to hear how he makes you feel. Does he give you pleasure? Do you like it when he does it slowly? He can be more rough if you want. How does it feel to have a man inside you for the first time?

He's sweating from love and frustration, the hunger becomes all-consuming as he approaches his peak, and you get to see a sliver of who this man truly is underneath all that fake composure. As sad as it sounds, there's a chance he is so lost in you that he cums before you. He just can't help it. But he will make sure you get all the pleasure you need before the night is through and be extra attentive with the aftercare ❤️ (Also he would definitely be one of those guys who check if there's blood after you did it because he thinks it's a given that there is)

#answered #yandere könig #könig headcanons #könig imagine

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muzansfangs · 2 months

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hii ogm!! i'm loving the drink event and can't wait to see more stories! i wanted to request a manhattan with muzan (fem reader) where muzan is a politican, similar to in Kimetsu Academia where hes a politican!

sorry if i wasn't being to direct!

feel free to deny the request etc and have a great day! <3

The grass is greener on the other side.

Starring: Muzan Kibutsuji x f!reader;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, age gap between Muzan and the reader but the reader is 21, corruption kink, anal sex, modern au, unprotected sex, mention to reader stretching herself out before the encounter, pet names, slight degradation, use of handcuffs;

Plot: You knew only one thing for sure and thus was that Muzan Kibutsuji was your father’s rival. With the incoming election day, you were busy running errands for your father, when you found yourself face to face with the devil himself. From that infamous night, you always found yourself tangled into the silky bedsheets of Muzan’s bed, allowing him to strip you off of your sense of self-preservation, dignity and purity with every secret meeting.

Drink chosen: MANHATTAN (anal sex, corruption kink, handcuffs, shy reader);

MASTERLIST FOR THE EVENT | RULES FOR THE EVENT

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

"Dad, I can't make it to the conference in time. My flight got cancelled. I'll take the next one in the morning" you blatantly lied to your father, eyes staring at the golden number decorating the white door of the hotel room you were supposed to meet the reason of your little defection at.

It was not the first time you abandoned your duty as the daughter of a man running for becoming the next Prime Minister to follow your lecherous whims. You felt ashamed of yourself, when this started. You were not that kind of girl, but this man had clearly brought out the worst in you, convincing you it was perfectly fine to fight for what you wanted. To be a little selfish was essential to live without regrets.

Even if your choices would have hurt and disappointed the ones you loved.

But if they did not know about your whereabous, they would have not suffered, right? Therefore, here you were, telling lies to the man who raised you, spoiled you and treated you like a princess since the day you were born. All of this for the sake of a secret affair with his younger rival, the very man he was competing with to conquer the hearts of the electors.

“Don’t worry, honey! You have already done so much for me. — your father reassured you from the other side of the phone, causing your stomach to clench as the remorse ate you from the inside out — You will attend the next one” he exclaimed confidently, while you fluttered your eyes close and nodded your head mournfully. If only he knew where you were, if only he saw you now, wearing that scanty dress to please Kibutsuji, he would have undoubtedly watched his perfect little girl turn into a stranger, a backstabber deserving nothing but vituperation.

“I’m sorry, dad. For real. I’ll be rooting for you anyway” you said with a tinge of sorrow in your voice, right before knocking on the door and hearing the sound of footsteps approaching it from the other side.

“Oh, sweetheart, I know you will. I really have to go now! Take care” your father said then, right when two piercing red eyes locked with yours on the threshold of the hotel room you deemed as nothing more than the Gates of Hell.

Your breath was suddenly stuck in your throat and you barely forced yourself to end the call with a “Bye, dad” before Muzan snorted and stepped aside to invite you in. He was visibly displeased at the sweet way you had whispered the epithet rightfully reserved to the man you shared the same blood with.

He hated the fact that you were his daughter and, if he had to be honest with himself, he had decided to lure you in his den to get back at him. At least, at first. Horrified at the idea of growing attached to you, something that had inevitably already happened, he tried to act distant, but you constantly made it hard to let him consider you nothing more than a cheap harlot. Why? Those eyes of yours, your shyness, were endearing to say the least.

“You can’t stay away from me, can you?” he mocked you, closing the door behind you and watching as you kept your eyes transfixed on the polished marble floor under your shoes.

“I wish I could. It’s not that simple” you whispered, shrugging your coat off of your shoulders and abent-mindedly hooking it on the clothes hanger.

The moment your voluptuary curves were exposed to his gaze, you felt it. Shivers ran down your spine, while you did not dare to turn around and face him. It was unncessary, anyway. He walked stauntered towards you like a predator, his hands searching for yours as he pressed you against the wall. His cologne intoxicated you, while his hot breath fanned the shell of your ear in a scandalous way that made your thighs squeeze together. Planting your palms to the wall before you, he intertwined yours fingrs and nuzzled your cheek with his pointy nose.

“I think it’s true what they say. The things we love are frequently the ones that destroy us” he murmured in your ear, his lips tracing your jawline hazardously.

No matter how many times you had crumbled at his feet, granted him the chance to break you down and build you up again, his touch left you always in a haze. Your cheeks heated up, a knot between your eyebrows, as you tried to hide your face from him. If only you could understand how much that tender trait of your personality drove him nuts.

“Don’t hide from me” he stated, surprisingly tenderly as he reached his hand up to wrap it on the back of your neck.

His grip was secure, when he forced you to crane your neck to meet his gaze. His lips captured yours shamelessly, hungrily, his tongue darting out of his mouth to lap at your parted lips and enter your mouth with the same confidence he held when he walked on a stage. Arrogant and unhinged, demanding and never coy he snaked his arm around your waist to make sure your back was flattened against his firm body. Timid moans fell from your lips, sounds he galdly swallowed, whilst leading you towards the king-sized bed at his back.

Lifting your lids to peer up at him, you hesitantly turned around to be face to face with him and your hand cupped his smooth cheek to run your thumb over his cheekbone. Theoughout the time you two had spent together, you had learned to read his body language. He never gave you the chance to be the master of your sea, but he did not disdain small attentions that oulked the strings of his heart. He had almost given you the impression he was touch-starved, as a dog who had been forced to just bark and growl all of his life and showing off his sharp fangs to keep potential threats at bay.

Muzan had barely opened up with you about his past and personal life. All that he asked of you was someone to keep his bed warm at night, even if you had to crawl into the darkness with him to quench his thirst for you.

You kissed him again, slowly, making sure your bodies were pressed up, that not an inch stood between you two. He reciprocated your attention, careful to remark how you were merely able to take the initiative because he had reluctantly allowed you to. You would have never forgotten it anyway. Not when his hands unceremoniously tugged the straps of your dress down your shoulders and proceeded in ripping it apart. You gasped, the sound of the garment coming apart at the seams making you knee buckle.

Muzan flicked his gaze up, tugging the ruined item down your curves to expose your body to him. The way you bit onto your lower lip nervously, still striving to avoid his plum red eyes made him want to ruin you over and over again. Every single time you two met, Muzan stripped you off of things he had yet to touch. Today was not an exception.

“What? Are you sulking over that dress? – he taunted you, quirking a dark eyebrow up before unbuckling his belt hastily – Ask your dad to buy you a new one. After all, he would be ecstatic to shower you in gifts” he bitterly commented, discarding the leather item onto the floor and shoving you down onto the bed by pushing onto your midriff.

His cold touch made your skin sizzle and your mouth went dry, when you lifted yourself up on your elbows, watching him stride to his suitcase and delving his hand into it, rummaging to draw something out.

“Or you wish it was me the one who sent gifts to you, huh? I bet you do. But, mon chéri, you know your dad would toss them into the bin. Therefore, I am forced to give you something else. Something your dad cannot see” he bantered again, his words sounding like a dagger in your heart, words representing the lyrics to the melody played by some metallic object clinking in his hands.

With your heart thrumming into your chest, you let your eyes wander to figure out the source of the chiming only to feel your breath hitch in your throat, when you found out they were shiny handcuffs. The look on your face spoke volumes, your body shuddering in anticipation as you kept on switching your focus from the object dangling from his index and his face.

Mischief twinkled in his eyes, watching in delight as you shifted your position on the bed in sheer desire and pure terror of exploring your tastes, terrorized to find out that you were probably as deranged as he was.

“You are noxious to me. You’ve poisoned me. I should not be here and let you mess me up” you uttered, sitting in a kneeling position on the snow-white sheets of the bed.

Muzan grinned and grasped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, face dangerously close to yours as he grinned at your face “Then why are you here? Why are you not in the crowd rooting for you daddy, huh? You’re royally screwing up, darling” he cooed, forcing you to lay face down on the bed.

With your cheek pressed against the rose-scented blankets, you chewed on the inside of your cheeks in a spiral of self-deprecation. He was right. You had deliberately chosen to follow him that infamous night and, much to your dismay, the following ones. It was all on you and your greedy heart, hypothetically assuming you still had one in your chest.

Muzan climbed on the bed behind you, his hands reaching for your wrists and pinning them togther behind your bed as he slapped the cuffs around them, factually preventing you from moving your arms freely.

“Have you done what I had asked of you?” he then inquired, hands already slipping underneath the waistband of your thong and dragging the thin item down your thigh.

“Yes, I did” you whispered, ashamed of yourself as he hummed in return.

The things you had done for him, things that had not even crossed your still innocent mind made you want to rip yourself apart. But how? How could you blame yourself for wanting him?

“Splendid. — Muzan chimed, reaching for something behind him on nightstand — Just relax. Look, I’ll let you see your beloved daddy while I fuck you up, alright?” he sarcastically taunted you, as you began to put the dots together. The remoter, he had grabbed the remoter. He remembered the exact hour your dad was supposed to speak to the Country.

Sweat beaded your forehead as you squirmed underneath him, a hoarse chuckle rambling from somewhere deep into his chest as the screen of the tv projected the smiling, proud face of your father. His eyes seemed to bore right into yours as Muzan fumbled behind you with his pants and grasped your hips into his calloused hands.

“Ah, look at him. My rival has a good taste in neckties. Where does he buy them? Marinella? Those are surely italian-coded” the raven-haired man behind you noted, deliviring another unfathomable kick in your guts.

“You are a bastard” you whispered, eyes widening as he pressed the girthy tip of his cock against your puckered hole. The stretch left you breathless, eyes watering in the process. Frankly, seeing the face of your father partially blurry was far way better than having a clear vision.

While Muzan grunted, makinf sure you could feel every inch of his cock dilating you, the words your dad said made you choke out an uncontrollable sob.

“My sweet daughter could not be by my side today. Her presence is a blessing. Hopefully, she’s now somewhere out there to bless someone else’s day. I love you, sweetheart!” your father said and there was a burst of applause to echo throughout the room.

Wincing softly in pain, hips rotating to accomodate to the intrusion in your most private area, you had to endure the way Muzan sneered and began to rhythmically thrust into you, a crazed expression on his face as he pounded into you without much care of your condition “Oh, you have no idea. Her ass is a fucking blessing, sir” he mocked your father, earning a stifle moan from you.

You wished you could space out, but it was impossible. The stimulation you were receiving was driving you mad. The pain gradually subsided, causing a series of unbridled moans to erupt from your throat. Drool was running down the angle of your mouth, back arching convulsively, as you heard every words your father said and felt every comment Muzan made.

“Fuck… Nah, I’m going to have to send my regards to your father, kitten. — he rasped out, giving you one last thrust, before pulling out with a groan and releasing onto the small of your back — After all, I’m going to steal his lucky charm from him, once I beat him” he whispered after a few seconds.

Trembling, astonished, you closed your eyes and laid there with a drained expression on your face. Muzan Kibutsuji was going to be the death of you.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! The third request for my event is done! Honestly, I hope you’ve enjoyed this one as much as I did. Why? Guys, come on, it reflects my main story “Guilty pleasure”. I felt like I had deprived you of ‘Politician Muzan’ for way too long not to write this one as soon as possible. Now, likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

Until next,

X O X O

TAGS: @doumadono @axesfordays @tomorika-pura @cursetopia @the-dark-creature @yazzzmints

#muzan x reader #muzan x you #muzan smut #muzan kibutsuji x reader #kibutsuji muzan x reader #muzan x y/n #demon slayer smut #demon slayer x reader #kny smut #muzan kibutsuji

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chuuyasheaven · 8 months

Text

“Disobedient wife !!”— Fyodor Dostoevsky

“He told you multiple times to not touch yourself when he's not there, didn't he? But yet you still decided to disobey Fyodor. . He'll make sure you'll learn your lesson.”

Tags: rough! Fyodor Dostoevsky / afab! Reader, rough sex, slightly degrading kink, slight praising kink, pet names, orgasm denial, masturbation, teasing?, fingering, overstimulation?, blowjob, husband! Fyodor, slight pussy/clit slapping, slightly mean! Fyodor, might contain grammar errors, cringe, etc.

Notes: this might be short sorry guys.

Fyodor was very busy lately, which left you sexually frustrated. I mean, come on, it's been an week already!? You tried asking him multiple times to touch you but with no avail, he insisted to finishing his stuff before laying a finger on you. The only thing which could help you relief some off it would be touching yourself, but Fyodor forbid you from doing that too. In your opinion was this unfair, if he wasn't there to satisfy your needs you should be able to do it yourself, right?

Most of the time he would be in the other room finishing off his work, so you decided to do it secretly. What could be the worst that could happen? There couldn't be any concequence if he didn't find out, right? You just laid there in your bed, being covered by sheets trying to cover yourself, while Fyodor was working in the other room. You took a deep breath before moving your hand down your body until it reached your panties. Through the fabric you tried circling your clit, it felt great, but you needed more friction. With your free hand you lightly pinch your nipple, adding onto the pleasure you circled harsher circles on your clit, putting more pressure on it.

To not be caught, you obviously had to stay quiet, or at least try to whimper quietly. “F–fuck. . .”, you cursed under your breath, this was dirty, sinful even, but you didn't care right now. Continuing for a while, you could tell that you were slowly growing close, but then Fyodor suddenly walked through your door, quite startling you. “My dearest, how are you?”, he asked you, you answered quickly to not raise suspicion. “F–fine!”, you yelped, hoping for him not to notice. “That’s good to know,”, “I thought you had work to do?”, you blurted out asking, he only chuckled lightly. “Well, I'm almost done, I just wanted to spend a little time with you, if that's okay.”, Fyodor informed you. This meant he would be here, you had two options to chose from; either you stop with your movements or you keep going pretending everything’s fine while listening to his voice.

You made your decision quite quickly, your fingers getting you off while you listened to your husband talk. You really thought you were slick, huh? Your panties were soaked at this point, you even feared that you accidentally soaked in the sheets beneath you too. But just as soon you got close enough, with only a few rubs left, you froze as Fyodor said the following sentence. “You seem to be close, I can tell.”, what does he mean? Maybe you just heard him wrong. “Huh?”, was all that came out your mouth. “I know you touched yourself to my voice, dear. What did I say about it?”, you looked down in embarrassment, Fyodor repeated himself as he wanted an answer told from words. “What did I say about touching yourself when I'm not around?”, he said with an slightly more serious tone. “I shouldn't.”, “And?”, he said. “I wasn't allowed to unless you were around, I know.”, you said with a small amount of guilt in your voice.

“And yet you still decided to go against my wishes,”, Fyodor claimed, you still avoided eye contact. “This means I’ll have to punish you, right?”, you looked up at him with an scared but confused expression on your face. “A punishment?”, you asked. “I never thought I would have to, but if you’re being disobedient you don’t leave me a choice, myshka.”, now you regretted it, you never went against his wishes yet you’re about to be punished, speaking of punishment; how would he punish you? “Will it hurt?”, you asked with some concern in your voice, Fyodor only chuckled lightly. “That’s not my place to say, but it won’t be extreme. If you’re so desperate for my touch then I’ll just use that for your punishment,”, wait, he’ll finally touch you? How is that a bad thing? Maybe he’s going easy on you since this is your first! Noticing your sigh of relief, he spoke up again. “But until you learned your lesson, I won’t give into your wishes.”

You nodded, a faint smirk was seen on his lips. “Good, I want you to remove the blanket.”, you complied to his order and revealed your mess, your panties and sheets drenched in your slick. “Would you look at that, you made a mess already,”, Fyodor said looking at it, you slightly blushed at that comment, amusing him only more. “Well, how about we start off easy, hm? Take your panties off for me.”, you complied again, taking them off instantly, making your arousal visible to him. “You’re gonna continue getting yourself off until I tell you to stop,”, “While you’re watching?”, “That’s how punishments work, dear.”, you hesitated at first, then you just shrugged and continued where you left off and rubbed your clit, while silently whimpering. You closed your eyes since this felt a little weird with Fyodor just watching. But you kept going, then Fyodor spoke to you again. “I want you to look at me while you do it,”, you opened your eyes to look at him, he was lightly smirking at you. “I’m the reason you’re touching yourself in the first place, no? Look at me like the good girl you are.”, Fyodor told you, the way he called you a good girl made you wetter, which didn’t go unnoticed by him. “Do you want me to keep talking, my love?”, you nodded as he asked.

“Such a naughty girl, hm? So desperate for my touch, and couldn’t even wait for me. . You wanna cum, don’t you?”, nodding again, you started to rub faster, fast enough to reach your high but before that could happen— “Sadly, I’m gonna need you to stop that.”, you whined as you stopped yourself, losing your orgasm. By now, the sheets were definitely drenched in your slick. “Good girl, you can be obedient afterall. Just for that, you can keep going, but you’ll need to be rougher.”, you went back to masturbating, speeding up your pace and making it rougher. Then Fyodor corrected you on something. “I only said to be rough, not to be faster.”, “So, I need to be rougher but slower?”, “Exactly.”, he approved. You slowed down but kept it rough, soon enough Fyodor started to get a little bored. What did he do about it? Well, he moved closer and gently slapped your hand away to continue. He got his own fingers to go to work, since they were clearly better than you. Fyodor’s fingers were long and skilled, so your high was obviously nearing quicker but when it was almost there, he cut you off again.

“F–fyodor! Stop being so unfair. .”, he could only laugh at this comment. Again, this was a punishment, what did you expect? “I’m being unfair? Do you want me so bad? Well, maybe if you earned it, then maybe I’ll let you cum.”, your eyes lit up after he said it, does that mean you can get your sweet release after all? “How?”, “Get on your knees and find out, dear.”, he explained, and you instantly knew what to do. You got out off bed and kneeled down in front him, as you reached the ground you looked at him, seeing his smirk. “Come on, I’m waiting.”, Fyodor teased, you unbuckled his belt and undid his pants, then you freed his dick. You got ready to take him, firstly you started to stroke it gently, your thumb rubbing his tip. His breath slightly hitched but he still kept his composure. Finally you took it into your mouth, starting to suck Fyodor off.

He was enjoying this, the way you innocently looked at him while sucking him off so good, he was nearing his release faster. Fyodor was getting closer with each suck, when he was seconds away to cum, he gently grabbed your head and pushed you down to make you deep throat him. This surprised you, but you didn’t care, then he came down your throat, forcing his seed down. You released with an ‘pop!’ and looked up at him again. Fyodor looked at you and chuckled deeply. “Alright, stand up,”, you obeyed him once more, standing in front of him. Suddenly you were dragged onto Fyodor’s lap. “If you want my cock so much, then fuck yourself on it.”, you were excited to hear these words, you positioned yourself right and got ready to take him, your arousal starting to show up again. When you got the right position, you sunk down his cock, moaning quietly as you did so. You immediately started to rock your hips, chasing your orgasm, Fyodor only smirked at this. “Would you look at that, my slut’s enjoying herself, isn’t she?”, you grinded your hips faster at that remark, making it obvious that you liked it. “You like it when i call you that, hm? Such a good slut for me.”, you continued your pace, if not only faster and rougher than before. Soon you reached it, your long awaited release, only to be edged by Fyodor again.

Fyodor held your waist to stop you from moving, which frustrated you way more than with what you started off. “Fyodor! I thought—”, “All this time, I still didn’t hear a apology from you.”, Fyodor stated, you were so frustrated to the point that you didn’t listen and still tried to move your hips, only to fail and Fyodor slapping your clit gently. “I’ll let you cum when you learned your lesson and apologize.”, you looked at him, your eyes filled with frustration, but he looked at you stern, meaning he’ll won’t to anything until you did what he said. “I’m sorry,”, you said before sighing.

“I’m sorry for not listening to you, I wasn’t thinking clearly and just wanted to be touched by you, Fedya. I shouldn’t have gone against your wishes, I’ll never do it again, I swear. .”, you looked away, not noticing his smile of approval. He let go of your waist, “Wasn’t so hard, was it? You earned it, darling, continue.”, you instantly continued where you left off, moaning into his shoulder as your head laid there. You were getting close again, but when Fyodor added pleasure to your clit, you let go and came instantly. You moaned his name while your sweet release washed over you. Just when you tried to come down from your intense orgasm, you felt your hips moving again, Fyodor using you to get to his sweet release. It didn’t take long until his cum filled your pussy, you both were breathing heavily.

“—That’s my girl, so good for me. But we’re not done yet.”

THIS TOOK ME THREE DAYS.

SMALL TAGLIST: @miloofc , @soukokulatte , @crystalice09 , @medusalovessnakes , @kk-oma !!

#Rei’s Kinktober 2023 !! ❤️#bsd smut #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs fyodor #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor smut

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butch-reidentified · 3 months

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I've spoken before about psychopathy, particularly my own, and the importance of recent research and demolishing the stigma and absolutely absurd past conceptions and measures of psychopathy, which were exclusively based on studies of male prisoners convicted of violent crime.

Just to reiterate - psychopathy is not being deranged and uncontrollably violent. Villanelle from Killing Eve is actually an excellent and well-researched example of high-EQ female psychopathy, and the first fictional portrayal I can genuinely see myself in. Psychopaths with high EQ are entirely capable of cognitive empathy, and many (like myself) are actually very gifted in it, and can even make excellent counselors/therapists as a result of this combined with a lack of strong internal biases and the fact that we won't be emotionally impacted/drained by patients. This presentation of psychopathy is becoming more and more recognized and studied, and is distinctly more common in women. We retain the core defining traits, obviously - boldness, deviancy, disinhibition, very high fear threshold, a tendency toward meanness (self-control is a thing, though), reduced capacity for remorse and regret*, and of course lack of affective (emotional) empathy - but are much more able to moderate ourselves and prioritize social functioning, and tend to view the sadistic behavior of low-EQ psychopathic males as wasteful. My wife calls it "prosocial psychopathy."

Anyway, I just kind of wanted to touch on this again since it's been a while and there's a fair few new followers out here. I encourage you to read the above links and check the tag - it's a pretty interesting topic, to me at least.

Edit 4/25/2024: *Regarding the reduced capacity for remorse/regret: I firmly believe this sounds worse than it is. For people like me, at least, it's not that I'm going around doing terrible things and incapable of feeling bad about any of them. The truth is that remorse & regret most frequently occur as a result of intensely emotion-driven behaviors, which as a concept is largely foreign to me - I don't tend toward remorse/regret because the way I interact with the world, analyze situations, and choose to behave in response, is inherently from the very beginning done with the acceptance of potential consequences actively held in my mind. I'm not prone to regret/remorse because I know myself extremely well and make choices as consistent with my understanding of self as possible, having already prepared myself for the possibility that things could go wrong. It's more about being prepared for what might happen and able to cope when things do go wrong, rather than being a piece of shit and not feeling anything about it.

This doesn't make me better or worse than others; it's a neutral fact that male supremacy has made seem otherwise by constantly claiming that "logic" or whatever is superior to emotions. Fuck that. Loads of the best people I've ever known have been very emotion-driven (what non-shit people identify as a firm of being passionate) and some of the shittest people I've known would waste their dying breath insisting they're 100% logical creatures, as if that's even a real thing. To me it feels very simple: if I'm making the best (most internally consistent, most reflective of my personality and values, etc) decisions I possibly can with whatever information I have at the time, then I've done my best, acted with integrity, and don't need to regret my choices. This is very challenging to write/talk about bc of the stigma & connotations involved, but again, this is a completely neutral fact to me in the same way I describe being a woman as a completely neutral fact despite the stigma & connotations involved there. Does any of this make sense?

#mine #psychopathy #emotionality

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autistichalsin · 3 months

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I have tried to avoid discourse around this ever since November, but since people are once again upset at the ultimatum (which doesn't seem to trigger in game yet, though it has been voiced) I guess I will offer my defense of Halsin.

A lot of the anger at Halsin here boils down to "he's against Minthara, therefore fuck Halsin," ignoring that Halsin has very good reasons to not trust her. (And also purposeful misinterpretation of his comments about HER to be about all Drow).

So first of all: We need to look at what has happened to Halsin in his life before arriving at this point.

Yes, obviously, there is his captivity with a Drow noble house, but I think people are kind of just forgetting what that means here. It isn't "he hates all Drow now because of his trauma", which is an almost insultingly reductive take. Minthara is from House Baenre, the top house of Menzoberranzan for centuries. She is at LEAST 200 years old, and likely older; she witnessed the downfall of House DeVir, and was old enough for her to fully understand it, but "young enough that it left quite an impression on me", likely placing her between 200 and 300 years old. Halsin is 350, and was kidnapped as a young Druid- likely between 100 and 175. There is a very good chance that Minthara was a young adult when he was a captive, and he would have heard about her evil actions long before encountering her in the goblin camp. He would know who she was before the tadpole.

Halsin was a captive for at least a few days if not longer, tortured in his bear form (the goblin lashers are mentioned at least a few times, not to mention rocks being thrown at him, Gut mentioning threatening to cut him open and put maggots in his belly, etc), and had his Grove threatened by Minthara.

Most important, and most easy to miss: this ultimatum is planned for if the Rite of Thorns is carried out, hence the reference to Kagha's foolishness. He has lost his home, his place of worship, and the people he considers his family forever. Watch his reaction after you tell him the Rite has been carried out; his world comes crashing down, he lets out the tiniest "the Rite of Thorns? no", and he is so upset he no longer asks you to take out the leaders. He says he needs to be alone for a while. He is grieving the loss of everything he had, everything that got him through the loss of his original family, and it is directly because of the Cult of the Absolute.

Now, let me go through some rebuttals to arguments in Minthara's favor.

She doesn't mean Halsin any harm at this point.

Rebuttal: Halsin has no way of knowing this. Her actions have already demonstrated otherwise- she has caused him harm. He has no tadpole to see her true intentions, like the other players, and Minthara doesn't make her case particularly well. She simply says she "has no quarrel" with him. Not an apology for his sufferings in the past or the loss of his home. If she doesn't regret the harm she caused him, he has no reason to trust her.

And of course, Minthara DOESN'T feel any remorse, whether or not she raids the Grove; if she does succeed, she'll later say her only regret is not making the choice to do it herself. Because she is evil and that's how evil characters work.

2. Halsin works with Shadowheart/Lae'zel/Astarion/an evil-aligned player; Halsin is willing to sleep with the Seldarine Drow twins; Halsin is forgiving and wants a better world for all, this should clearly include Minthara too.

Rebuttal: by rescuing him and saving the Grove, the former four have shown themselves to be capable of good deeds. He is very consistent that his one redline is DO NOT FUCK WITH HIS GROVE. If you DO NOT FUCK WITH HIS GROVE, he will give you the benefit of the doubt. If you FUCK WITH HIS GROVE, he is done with you; if the player raids the Grove, he will hunt them down and attack them, no matter what the player tries to talk him out of it.

FURTHER, he very much calls the party out on any future evil deeds they do (I.E. Shadowheart slaying the Nightsong if she's on the Shar path), and will leave the party if the player sinks their approval low enough.

The Drow twins are Seldarine, not Lolthsworn, and having a one-night-stand is very different than trusting someone as an ally.

The "wanting a better world for all" thing is of course subject to the paradox of tolerance. In the epilogue, it is very specifically mentioned that their commune is "hidden from those who are not welcome, open to any who need shelter." I.E. those who want to cause harm are not welcome to it, because the "better world for all" can't allow, by design, those who DON'T want a better world for all.

3. Halsin hates her because she's a Drow.

He specifically mentions Lolth-sworn Drow here. "Cruelty comes to Lolth's followers as naturally as breathing. I have seen it- experienced it." Minthara literally only abandoned those ways because she was abandoned by Lolth first- only when it suited her.

She still supports all the same teachings (which is why she openly insults surface elf players the first time they meet, and will tell an elf player who becomes a mindflayer that it was an "improvement"), and she uses slurs against surface elves to boot. Minthara is far more racist against surface elves than Halsin EVER is against Drow.

4. Halsin is condemning Minthara to a fate worse than death (unspoken: out of spite) and this makes him not a good person.

Halsin fully believes Minthara to be a threat to himself and the player. He says in as many words that if it's a choice between Minthara's freedom and the player's, he picks the player. In his eyes, it's a choice between Minthara's freedom and the fate of the world since he knows the player is the only one who can defeat the Absolute. He's in a dilemma similar to the player having to decide whether to let Orpheus die or turn the Emperor into an enemy- it's just that people don't realize because we have meta-knowledge, as players, that Halsin doesn't.

5. That "viper" comment is hypocritical.

He isn't referring to Drow as a whole. He is referring to Minthara herself.

Remember, he knew Kagha before she went bad, and knew she was capable of better (better enough that he made her his second in command). All he would know of Minthara was what she did in the Underdark as a Baenre (including owning slaves, which I'm sure didn't do her any favors), what she nearly did to his Grove, what she allowed to happen to him, and that she's now claiming to have changed when showing zero remorse or actual interest in changing anything. Perhaps it was wrong for him to phrase it it as "cannot" change instead of "will not" change for her, but the sentiment is spot on. Minthara doesn't fundamentally change in any path the player brings her on- what changes is, at best, who she considers it acceptable to subjugate.

6. Halsin has no stakes here, it's wrong for him to demand Minthara go when she has more to lose.

Again, Halsin views Minthara as an existential threat to their plan to save the world. He is lacking in personal stakes by comparison, but remember; he also has lost the only home he knows. That is no small thing.

(From a meta perspective, I do think they should have done something like mention the Shadow Druids/Ketheric Thorm loyalists are still hunting Halsin, just to make it more fair, but this was clearly written with the main goal of enforcing the exclusivity. And honestly, I can't imagine all that many people actually want both in the same party on every playthrough? Mostly I saw people wanting to recruit Minthara on good playthroughs, and wanting to not have to abandon the Shadow Cursed Lands to darkness; many of the people I saw expressing this specifically said they wanted to dismiss Halsin after accomplishing that. This seemed like exactly what those players would have wanted, being able to spare the Grove, free the SCL, and then dismiss Halsin and travel with Minthara.)

7. Halsin owes the player his unquestioning trust after they saved him/his Grove/broke the Shadow Curse. He has no right to question their judgment.

This... really isn't a good way to think? He shows his gratitude by traveling with them to help (when he has no tadpole at all- he's doing this out of pure selflessness to thank the player for helping him), but that doesn't mean he should stop having thoughts on the goings-on. Where is this energy when other characters continuously question your judgment when you have them wait at camp?

8. Halsin is being stupid by allowing her to go be mind controlled by the Absolute.

This is one I will concede. It's not the wisest decision, and I can only guess it's because they didn't want to write Minthara automatically going aggro on the player if they choose Halsin over her. (I, on the other hand, think that would be brilliant, and would be a mark in Halsin's favor for this choice.)

9. This is manipulation of the player.

Halsin wishes the player the best, and leaves without fuss, if they choose Minthara over him; he thanks them for all they've done, and he even says he hopes he's wrong, but cannot stay to find out. He is being sincere; he believes he, and probably the player, will be killed if Minthara stays, which in turn puts the fate of the world in question. He will accept the player's decision if they choose her, but he feels threatened and won't stay himself. This is a boundary, not manipulation, not malice, not anything else.

10. Halsin comes across as uncompromising/unsympathetic; this is OOC for Halsin/ruins his character; he is being selfish; other assorted similar sentiments

I already addressed most of the other arguments with the points above, but I will say, truthfully: I don't find this particularly OOC at all. He has been very clear that his one and only rule is DO NOT FUCK WITH THE GROVE. Minthara fucked with the Grove. He has no reason to trust her. And he has ALSO been incredibly consistent: if you are in a situation where it's someone else or you, you have every right to choose to save yourself. He shows sympathy if Wyll has to let Ravengard die, he doesn't blame the player if they kill EVERY DRUID IN THE GROVE to save the Tieflings, he doesn't even blame the player if they order Orin-as-Lae'zel to kill Yenna, an innocent child he was very attached to. He is devastated at the latter two, clearly, but he blames the Druids for the second for forgetting their principles, and he blames Orin for the latter for making the trap. This is perfectly in line with his Druidic beliefs; you have every right to protect yourself first and foremost.

I get that a lot of people don't like the ultimatum (worth noting is that this has always been part of the series; in the first two games, characters of different alignments would outright refuse to work with each other), but it really doesn't make Halsin look as bad as people say, and I feel like a lot of people are being really callous/dismissive/reductive to what Halsin has been through here.

#halsin #halsin silverbough #baldur's gate 3 #bg3

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reds-writings · 3 months

Text

crashin' the party

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: a bit of a whopper that had me stumped for a bit. i sincerely hope you like it. i didn't plan to go this far with the jj universe but the more i do the more fun i have with these two! i'm going to rearrange my masterlist a bit and put these parts in a more chronological order! this part technically takes place before the events of if only tonight we could sleep. feedback is always cherished and my requests are open!

word count: roughly 6.7k

warnings: cursing, fighting (verbal and physical), two idiots being dumb, miscommunication trope, the boy's a liar, guns, mentions of drugs, rust self-sabotaging, marty being marty, ANGST, making up at the end, things can be a lil toxic, reader gets the shit end of the stick in most of this, etc

You hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that something rather egregious was brewing behind your back over the past several days. Starting with the unfortunate shitshow that was Marty’s young thing of a mistress letting Maggie in on his line of transgressions due to a fit of spite. The fallout was more than unsavory which had him plenty distracted with trying to hopelessly pick up the shattered pieces of his now blown-up marriage.

Then, Rust decided to take a few week's leave in the middle of the case. Which came completely out of left field given his obsession with having this all solved more rapidly due to the ever-shortening time limit Quesada had set for you all. A dying father in Alaska or something along those lines. He hadn’t exactly informed you of it directly himself until you rang him up the night he was supposedly set to depart.

“Heard you were takin’ leave.” You idly twisted the phone chord between your fingers as you sat atop your kitchen counter. One of your coworkers at the precinct had mentioned it off-handedly earlier in the day and you were more than curious as to why everyone else seemed to know of Rust’s so-called last-minute trip and not you.

“Yeah.” Rust’s static voice sounded back to you, sounding stranger than what was his usual. More dazed and gruff.

“In the middle of this case?”

“Mhm…”

“...Mind sharin’ why?” He was being more elusive than usual and it was starting to grate your nerves further by the minute.

“Visitin’ my father. Anchorage. He’s dyin’.”

Oh.

“I’m uh...I'm sorry to hear that…when are you headin’ out? Need me to drive you to the airport or somethin’?-”

“Marty’s takin’ me. Tonight.”

That made you even more surprised. It wasn’t like the two were necessarily all that chummy. You tried not to let it sting that there seemed to be a purposeful choice in having Marty take him instead of you. The dynamic between you two wasn’t at its most idyllic but you hadn’t thought it to be too strained despite recent events. Things with the investigation were just piling up, getting trickier and more stressful to manage as time ticked on.

Sure, you guys hadn’t exactly been able to elaborate further on what was the bomb of feelings he had all but dropped on you but you hadn’t been taking it personally. At least not until now. Maybe he was starting to regret things. This was probably him pulling away so you’d get the hint to not be so keen on him moving forward. Were you coming off as desperate? Suffocating?

Realizing you’d yet to say anything you cleared your throat a bit, “Thought Marty would’ve been too busy dealin' with winning back Maggie and everything...” The couple already managed to give you more than a migraine or two since things went to shit. On top of Marty’s deep-seated 'woe is me' bullshit, Maggie had managed to stop by demanding answers in a hysterical flurry to things you had no knowledge of or frankly any business in.

“I won’t be back for a bit.” It was becoming apparent that he wanted to finish up this conversation sooner rather than later.

“Okay…I guess I’ll keep lookin’ for leads and whatnot. There might be a girl I know from way back who’s tied up in the kind of crowd we’re lookin’ at. I’m hopin’ she might be familiar with Ledoux or somethin’. If there’s anything you want me diggin’ into just give me a shout I guess.”

He was silent for a moment you considered too prolonged.

“I gotta head out. Keep track of what you find. Marty’ll be watchin’ my place.”

“You got it.”

More silence.

“Bye, Y/n.”

“Bye-” The line went dead before you knew it.

Geez.

The dial tone mocked you as you sat there in curling embarrassment. You don’t think he’d ever blown you off so bluntly before. Not even when you two first met. Your neck and face started to grow warm as you fought off the increasing sense of rejection brought on by your own insecurities and his sudden callousness. You were just overthinking things. Rust’s father was dying and it wasn’t like you could expect him to properly express what it was he was going through. You just had to be somewhat okay with standing by on the sidelines until he was ready to open up on the matter.

You hadn’t heard much about Rust’s parents or his upbringing but from what little tidbits he managed to drop it wasn’t anything to be envious of. Things seemed complicated from the sounds of it so you had no doubt Rust was probably just having a tougher time trying to navigate what he felt in anticipation of the grief that awaited him ahead.

Meanwhile, after hanging up on you, Rust couldn’t help but bring a heavy hand to his eyes as he sighed through his nose. Marty eyed him warily as he sat across from him in the depressing confines of his partner’s apartment.

“So you lied to her.”

Rust didn’t bother meeting the blonde’s disappointed look.

“You don’t think that oughta blow up in your face? She’s sharper than you may realize…ain’t some fragile thing who can’t handle her shit-”

“Don't need her on this, Marty.” Rust tried remaining passive at the mention of you.

Things were becoming too complicated. A consequence of his pathetic failure to keep his baneful desires in check. Giving in to those false hopes had him feeling increasingly weak and cheap the longer he had time to sit and torture himself over it. To entertain such notions with you was cruel to an extent he found himself severely uncomfortable with. It wouldn’t work. Not in this lifetime or perhaps any other that would exist in the infinite hell that was the universe. If he backed away now perhaps he could still hold onto whatever little semblance of control he had left.

“Don’t need her on this or don’t want her on this? There’s a mighty big difference, buddy.” Marty didn’t necessarily know about the recent developments between you two but it was apparent he was becoming aware that something was afoot. The pair stared at each other long and hard.

“This is a two-man job. No need for added weight.” Rust broke first, taking a long drag from the cigarette pinched between his nimble fingers.

“Sure, if that’s what you need to tell yourself. This is her case too and I don’t appreciate you havin’ me be part of some lie-”

“I can remind you that you haven’t had much of a problem with lyin’ as of late-”

“Oi, don’t get all judgy with me just cause you’re scared of somethin’ you ain’t got the emotional bandwidth to fuckin’ handle on your own. Y/n’s a smart girl. Strong. It would be unwise of you to underestimate her abilities because of some holdup you’ve got-”

“Marty.” Was Rust’s final warning. The steeliness of it had the blonde’s hands going up in mock surrender. If Rust didn’t want to unpack his growingly obvious partialness towards you then he wouldn’t bother pressing. It’s not like he was much in the mood to help out the pissy curmudgeon he called a partner with any hypothetical advances toward you. Marty saw you as something similar to that of a little sister. He wasn’t sold on the idea of romance, if Rust were even capable of the notion, happening between you two. In his opinion, your heart was just too big for the likes of Rust. He didn’t want to see you put in the monumental effort of caring for the hopeless loner only to be sorely disappointed in return.

The days following the odd phone call had that intuitive feeling in your gut growing all the more sour. You tried your best to find more on Ledoux but the bastard was practically a ghost. Any and all traces left behind were either long gone by now or slipping from you faster than you could blink. Marty wasn’t being much help either, hardly showing up at work or being in a perpetual state of buzzed when he did actually bother to grace everyone with his presence.

Though, anytime you did really manage to catch him he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye for longer than what he deemed necessary. Either the obvious bout of drinking he was throwing himself into was reaching a dangerously depressive territory or he was feeling guilty about something else entirely. He never was the best at bluffing when it came to things outside of the job. It was even more rare to find yourself in a situation where he had something to lie about to you in the first place.

Something was definitely up.

“Maggie talk to you yet?” You asked, setting down a styrofoam box of takeout in front of him as he sat miserably hungover at his desk. He took a peek inside and mumbled a quick ‘thanks’ before deciding to dig in.

“No…she ain’t answerin’ any of my calls. Her pops told me to fuck off plenty already so he ain’t an option of gettin’ through to her neither.”

“It’s a pretty big deal, Marty. It’s best to probably just…give her time to feel angry. Your constant pokin’ at her is only gonna drive her away further. Goin’ to the hospital huffin’ and puffin' like you did didn’t help your case either.” You sipped your coffee as you watched him rub at his eyes.

“I just needed her to hear me out. Hell, I even got Rust to go-” His stocky shoulders locked up suddenly, seeming to have caught himself in revealing too much before settling on shoveling more food into his mouth.

Your eyes tightened in suspicion.

“Speakin’ of, you heard anything from Rust while he’s been away?”

Marty shook his head a little too fast to be considered convincing, “Not a peep,” Obvious lie, “can’t imagine the intense bouts of angst he’s brewing up for himself all the way where he's holed up.”

“Mhm. How’re you holdin’ up at his place? Need me to bring by anything? I know it ain’t necessarily the Hilton-”

“N-no! I’m good. No. I uh-...I got some groceries the other day. It’s a mystery how that guy survives with what little he keeps in his damn fridge. Just ridiculous.” He coughed and took a sip of his own coffee, avoiding your growingly pointed glare. He could feel sweat start to form on his brow and he knew he needed to head out before he fucked everything up even more. Having Maggie angry at him was already enough to deal with.

“I bet. Listen-”

“L-Look I gotta get goin’. Regrettably, I drank too much last night and it’s honest to God catchin’ up to me right about now and I don’t need Quesada givin’ me shit. Sorry to bail on ya but I’ll see you later, a-alright? Thanks for the food.” Marty scrambled to get his stuff before semi-hurrying to scamper off. He could feel your eyes burning at the back of his head but he didn’t dare to look back.

Unfurling your arms you sat your mug down and reached for the receiver on your desk. It was a last-ditch effort, dialing Maggie, to see if Marty’s slip of the tongue about Rust meant anything substantial. If they were chatting here and there while Rust was away that was fine. If Marty was having Rust get through to Maggie all the way from where he was that was fine too. If Rust wasn’t in Alaska at all then you’re sure that ugly sensation building within you would multiply tenfold easily. After a few rings the line clicked with an answer.

“Hello?” Maggie’s soft lilt came from the other line. She sounded a little less upset than when you last saw her but still tired nonetheless.

“Hey, Mags. It’s Y/n. Just wanted to see what you were up to. How’re you holdin’ up?” You tried to maintain an air of complete casualness. No ulterior motives to this call whatsoever.

“Oh, hey! I uhm…I’m doing okay I guess. Trying not to let everything catch up to me all at once, y’know. It’s been hard…keeping what I can away from the girls. Marty just won’t quit it with trying to wear me down. It’s exhausting.”

“Yeah…I told him to leave you be but he never was much of an avid listener. We may work together but just know I ain’t takin’ his side on all this.” You offered up and it was true. Marty may have been your coworker for several years now and something close to a decent friend but this wasn’t something you were gonna coddle him about. The consequences of his petty adultery were ones he had to deal with entirely on his own.

“Thank you. You should try telling Rust that. Marty’s resorted to having him try to talk me down too, if you can believe it. Not that it worked or anything but I’m getting tired of feeling like I’m the one who should feel guilty for walking away when Marty decided to fuck it all up in the first place.” The woman’s tone grew a touch more frantic as her rant went more into detail but you stopped listening at the mention of Rust.

Y’know, the one who was supposed to be thousands of miles away right now.

“He got Rust to talk to you?” You interjected, only feeling a tiny pang of guilt for cutting in.

“Y-yeah. It uh…well it didn’t go to well. Y’know him. He didn’t try to blow smoke up Marty’s ass too much but he brought up the kids which more or less set me off. I said some harsh things but he just wouldn’t quit it with the whole ‘men and women don’t work' thing and 'our only purpose is reproduction’ or whatever bullshit spiel he had on his list of many-”

“When did this happen?”

“Earlier today. We met at some diner but it didn’t last long with him walking out. I do feel bad for getting ahead of myself but…I don’t know. If you see him could you tell him I’m sorry? I don’t want things being more uncomfortable than they already are between all of us…”

Ice started to spread like some nasty disease in your veins. The way your heart was stuttering out of rhythm had you grasping at your chest. You held the receiver between your ear and shoulder as your mind went blank at her simple confession. You didn’t know if what was actively consuming you was pure rage or a deep sense of betrayal. He had lied. They both lied. Like it was nothing.

Why?

Forcing yourself to sound unaffected you spoke up again, “Sure, I can do that for you. I’m sure he ain’t too hung up on whatever it is you said so I wouldn’t beat myself up over it. Sometimes he oughta be put in his place for what he lets slip out of his mouth.”

“You’re probably right. Thank you, Y/n.”

“No problem. I’ll check in with you later alright, Mags?” Your chest was starting to rise and fall at a rapid pace. You needed to get out of here.

“Alright, Y/n. Thank you again. Take care.” Was her warm reply before you set down the phone almost robotically.

They had really fucking lied.

It was well into the night by the time you found yourself parked outside of Rust’s apartment. The throbbing in your skull had grown exponentially since your chat with Maggie and the muscle in your chest had yet to cease its sickening pace. It felt as if you were experiencing everything from outside of your body. As if you had no control over your limbs when you clambered out of your car and nearly slammed the door off its hinges.

They wouldn’t lie to you like this. This was just one big misunderstanding. It had to be! You’d rather be angry for nothing than have the impending doom of betrayal strike you in a way that you felt would be irreversible.

They just wouldn’t do that to you.

Raising a shaking fist and pounding on the door, it sounded like you were there to raid the damn place like it was police business. You attempted to steady your breathing but as your impatience grew you found yourself pounding again when there wasn’t a fast enough answer. Marty and Rust’s respective vehicles were both here so there was no chance of no one being home.

Before you unleashed hell on the door once more it swung open to reveal a frazzled Marty. He stood there frozen, jaw opening and closing, visibly at a loss seeing your figure standing in the doorway. He looked ready to just about shit himself.

“Y/n! W-what-”

“Now, I know you know I ain’t stupid. So if you’ve got somethin’ you’re hidin’, which I know you are, you best 'fess up now-”

“I-I don’t know what-”

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth. I called Maggie. I know he's here.” You felt like some feral cat with its hackles rising by the minute. It was a rare occurrence to find yourself this upset.

“Y/n that ain’t-”

“If you have nothin’ you’re lyin’ about, if he's really not here then let me in.”

He opened his mouth only to be cut off, unsurprisingly, again.

“Now, Martin.”

The two of you stared at each other and Marty felt an unsettling sensation lick up his spine. There was no stopping you, especially not when you were like this. He must’ve hesitated for a hair too long because before he knew it you were slamming past the doorway, nearly knocking the wind out of him in the process.

The sight before you had you halting in the middle of your warpath. There stood Rust, still as a statue, looking like a full-blown tweakin’ asshole biker as if it were second nature to him. In the back of your mind, info from files about him being involved in undercover narcotics work for quite some time sparked recognition but you couldn’t seem to connect it with what was playing out right in front of you. All you knew was that something was obviously about to go down and they hadn’t even the slightest intention of making you aware.

It felt like one devastating punch to the stomach.

“What’s goin' on?” Your voice sounded foreign to your ears. It felt like your head was being held underwater as you stared down the man opposing you.

No one made a move to answer.

“I said what the fuck is goin' on.” Your tone grew stronger and both men had the nerve to look sorry at your state of distress.

“We have a line on Ledoux.” Rust ground out, having a hard time connecting with your gaze. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not tonight. Not ever. He didn’t need this. Didn’t need the distraction nor your wrath towards his pathetically selfish reasonings for not letting you in on any of this.

“And it just slipped your mind to give me the heads up? In case you might’ve forgotten I happen to work on this case with the both of you dipshits too. If there’s a tip towards that meth-head fuck then I’d think it’d be common knowledge that I oughta know too.” You snapped, venom bitterly coiled its way through you as the rage taking up space in your body had you hardly seeing straight.

“You didn’t need to be involved. It’s undercover work to get a way in with Ledoux. I don’t need both you and Marty to worry about when I’m dealing with-”

“Oh, fuck you! Fuck you both! That ain’t for you to decide. I can handle my shit just fine. You're tellin' me you two can throw yourselves into whatever shady bullshit it is your plannin' that could have you killed but I have to sit back like the clueless fuckin' idiot? Make that make fuckin' sense!” You were up in his face shouting now and it infuriated you that he was rearing back like some spooked horse to avoid your anger.

Fucking coward.

“Underestimatin’ me like this makes you just as bad as the rest of them in the department. If you think I lack the capability for any of this then you be a man and take that up with me. You don’t make that idiot over there lie for you.” You grabbed firmly at the worn leather of his stupid jacket and he just took it. His heart was hammering and he suddenly felt ill. This was all going wrong and his mind couldn’t keep up. Nothing wanted to pass the threshold of his lips.

Seeing that he wasn’t going to reply you let go, feeling sudden shame wash over you at your burst of hysteria. Your eyes were starting to burn intensely as the weight of the current circumstances started to settle down on you, making you take a few steps back.

You felt like nothing. It wasn’t an experience you were necessarily new to but having it come from them had you more blindsided than ever imaginable. All you could keep asking yourself was: why? Marty’s never doubted you or gone behind your back. He was one of the only ones who believed in you when you first started out as some newbie of an investigator. You’ve known him for nearly a decade and looking at his pitiful expression now only had you feeling disgusted.

Rust you couldn’t even bother to pick apart any further. You had the impression he respected you enough on the job but that had been debunked in nothing short of just a few hours. Where did he get off? You weren’t some burden who’d just weigh the whole process down with your implied inferiority. None of this was making any sense and your heaving shoulders failed to stop their jittering as you took in the room surrounding you. An old red toolbox sat on the carpeted floor between two lawn chairs with a few guns, random documents, drug baggies, and whatnot scattered around. A black satellite phone on the dining table’s surface caught your eye and a sharp exhale left your nose. Your eyes drifted back to Rust. The bated silence that had blanketed the room was unbearable to the two men.

“Whether you like it or not you’ve earned yourself an extra set of eyes. I’m sure Marty can catch me up on everything on the way to Tweakersville since y’all tell each other everything now durin' your lil’ sleepovers.” You snatched a pistol from the floor and tucked it into your waistband before stepping out.

“Dyin’ father in Anchorage…what a crock of shit…” Were your departing mumbles as you disappeared out the door. It took everything in Marty’s being to not let out the pettiest of ‘I told you so’s’.

Rust only moved to bring trembling fingers to check his pulse.

The resulting car ride between you and Marty was deathly quiet as you stared out the window. You could tell he wanted to speak up but finding the right words wasn’t coming easy to him. It wasn’t until you pulled up to the shithole that passed as a dive bar that he worked up the courage to blurt out his defense.

“I didn’t wanna lie to you.” You just scoffed and shook your head wryly.

“Yet here we are.”

“What we’re doin’ ain’t necessarily legal-”

“So? It’s ain't like I’m sheltered from the ways of a dirty cop. I’ve done my fair share of shit over the years.” The skin around your nails was becoming raw at your incessant biting and Marty ignored the urge to swat your hands away from yourself.

“This wasn’t done out of thinkin’ you weren’t capable. You have to know that.”

“You can say that but I’m still havin’ a hard time workin’ out any other reason why you’d try to fuck me over like this.” You fixed him with a hard stare and he could only sigh. God, were you stubborn when you wanted to be. He needed to save his own skin on this one, Rust be damned.

“Hon, Rust’s throwin’ himself back into some old gang mess for the sake of this case. Now, from the looks of it, I’d say he ain’t too keen on having to do it at all in the first place. I’m sure you’re aware of what working narcotics can do to the mind of a man for the minimal time he’s set to do it out on the field. Let alone what it could do one working at it for four years nonstop. The man nearly died doin’ all this shit on more than one occasion. Shootins...cartel torture. Which brings me to my next point.” Your partner watched you intently as if to make sure you were fully listening.

You made no signs of ignoring him so he continued,

“I don’t know what’s goin' on between him and you, if there even is somethin' going on, but it shouldn’t be hard for you to imagine that he’s strugglin' with it a whole lot. It’s obvious he don’t know how to come to terms with most of what he’s feeling so it’s hard to determine just what the hell he’d do when it comes to being interested in a woman. Let alone you.”

“I fail to see what you’re gettin’ at.” You knew exactly what he was implying but childish insolence held priority.

“Rust doubts you the least out of everyone around here. Perhaps out of everyone he’s encountered ever. You challenge his way of structure. All the Debby Downer bullshit he tells himself starts to lack any sense. Not bringin' you on this was an act of piss-poor self-preservation. He may not admit that and you may not bother to believe it but that’s just what I see. You know I wouldn’t vouch for him on shit like this out of charity.”

The words sank in deep as you ruminated over them. It made sense but out of pure stubbornness, you didn’t really want to acknowledge it right then and there. When you had a clearer head you could probably find yourself empathizing with Rust’s decisions but you felt like you did enough of that already when it came to any other screw-up of his. This instance cut deep for another reason. Your trust had been breached to an awful extent and it just wouldn’t work if you had to fear it happening again. Romantically or professionally. It wasn’t up to him to make these choices for you. Especially when it came down to your line of work. You couldn’t tolerate that type of interference.

“I’ll take that into consideration.” Is what you settled on before turning to people watch out of your rolled-down window.

“I really am sorry, Y/n.” He spoke up again but you were too worn out to accept anything else at the moment. Even if you knew he was being sincere.

You ignored the nagging in the back of your mind that things would likely go terribly wrong sometime tonight. It annoyed you that being as mad as you were you still had half the mind to pray Rust didn’t end up getting killed doing whatever it was he was doing with that gang leader Ginger. You'd be devastated, fight or no fight. Marty had tried assuring you this was all meant to be quick and easy but you didn’t believe it one bit.

Minutes passed before you and Marty made your way to split up inside the bar. Marty wanted to keep an eye on Rust and you just wanted to make sure Marty didn’t do something stupid. It was safe to say he stuck out like a sore thumb in his bright Pink Floyd shirt and trucker hat amongst the throngs of burly, tatted bikers prowling about. Your expression remained neutral as you felt the number of greedy eyes growing on you while you slinked around. The music was too loud and the thick haze of smoke stung your eyes. The smell in here was more or less repulsive, having you fight the urge to wrinkle your burning nose in disgust. Rust didn’t seem to be anywhere around inside, meaning he was striking the ‘deal’ somewhere out back where the other hoards of folks were hanging around.

It didn’t take long for a commotion to rise up with the unfortunate cause of it being Marty. He was bumbling out apologies as some big oaf all but dragged him out of the bar with people hollering after him. You tried your best to briskly follow, making it out in time to see the man get thrown onto his ass. Miscalculating your gait you just about slammed into the scary man from behind at his sudden stop.

Meaty hands yanked at your shirt and slammed your poor back into a post near the entrance. “Just what the fuck are you doin', bitch.”

Trying not to gag at the state of his breath you attempted to wiggle out of his grasp, “Was just tryin' to leave so you can get right up off me-”

The man shoved you again and took his huge mitt of a hand to your throat, “You and your punk ass friend don’t belong sniffin’ 'round here.”

“I don’t know that son of a bitch so fuckin' let go!-” A burst of stars entered your vision as his fist nearly sent you sailing down the old wooden ramp. A boot or two kicked at your curled-up figure, catching you in the ribs and stomach a few times. One even clocked you in the jaw and you hoped you’d still have teeth left if you were lucky enough to make it out. Heavy footsteps boomed against the growing crowd’s uproar and your adrenaline kicked itself up a few notches. The giant's paws cleared the way and jerked you up again, the force of it having your feet leave the ground for a split second. You were struck again, then once more before your hand fumbled behind your back and got a good grip on the pistol in your jeans.

Cold metal jabbed into the grand protrusion that was his belly and it had him stilling almost immediately.

“Unless you want a bullet or two in your fatass gut, I suggest you let me go.” You spat.

When you didn’t get an answer fast enough, the cocking of the gun’s hammer sure as hell had him dropping you fast. As soon as he did you smacked him across the face with the butt of it and sent him to his knees. A naive soul or two began to make a move but you were quicker in aiming the gun at them in warning. Blood from your nose leaked like a faucet into your gaping mouth as you struggled for air. They sure managed to get you good. The growing pain you felt all over attested to that fact.

Once you were sure no one else would pounce, you spit on the big man and backed away with your gun in the air. You nudged Marty with your boot to make him get the hell up before you two booked it back to the car. According to him, Rust got roped into going down the Bayou with Ginger so you two had to make it out quick.

So much for quick and easy.

You couldn’t even bother to check the time as you sat reclined in the car to wait for Rust’s signal. Marty parked at some mostly empty lot near a grocery mart and scurried inside to grab you a few things. The bag of frozen peas didn’t do much for your rapidly swelling eye or aching jaw. Your nose didn’t seem to be too broken but with all its nerves it made no difference in hurting like a bitch. The bleeding from both your nostrils and mouth had started to clot thankfully but you still sat wheezing from your abused ribs.

“So much for being able to fuckin' handle yourself.” Marty huffed as he flipped through a tattered copy of Rust’s Nietzche. What was intended as a laugh came out as a wet rattle instead, making the blonde look at you in alarm.

“He let go of me, didn’t he? Not like you were much use.” Your tongue rolled around in the space of your mouth, forgoing the taste of copper in making sure none of your pearly whites were at risk of falling out.

“How’re you gonna explain this at work?”

“I dunno. I’ll say I took a tumble down my staircase or somethin’. Who cares.” It was likely your lazy nonchalance was the result of a possible concussion. It was getting harder to keep yourself awake as you two were made to wait patiently.

“Oh yeah. Casual tumble down the stairs. Makes perfect fuckin’ sense-” Marty’s bickering was cut off by the satellite phone’s sudden shrill ringing. You both shot up, adrenaline entering your systems once more, before he hurried to answer it. You could faintly hear a shouted line of demands before Marty confirmed what he heard and peeled off toward the location Rust had given him. You willed your hands to steady as you fumbled with the map you pulled from the glove compartment, making sure you weren’t going the wrong way.

The ninety seconds Rust gave was more like an eternity before you skirted up to the neighborhood that felt like an active warzone. As he was nearing the vehicle with a stumbling man in his clutches, who you assumed was Ginger, you leaped out of the car to open up the back and usher them in. You raised your pistol in a one-handed grip, keeping the other on the door as they stumbled inside. There was shouting from figures out following in the distance and gunfire that was making its way closer and closer. When they found themselves situated you slammed the car door shut and sent off a warning shot or two to keep the approaching group away. Responding bullets were your only answer, having you all but swing back into the passenger’s seat as they whizzed past you. Only one had managed to skim past your ear in sheer dumb luck, leaving your ear ringing something awful.

With you safely inside, Marty sped off again at Rust’s sharp command. You couldn’t really hear their yelling over the pounding of your heart and the fact your right ear seemed to be temporarily out of commission from the narrowly missed bullet.

You couldn’t dwell too much on the fact that with an inch difference it would’ve been your head.

Hours later, daylight agitated your vision as you waited in the new setting that was Rust’s truck. After seeing the state you were in he all but hauled you with him to wherever he planned on taking Ginger, declaring he had some first aid kit he’d need to use on you. You didn’t bother putting up much of a fight when he ordered you to wait in the truck outside of the diner you stopped at after patching you up in the limited capacity he was able to. You were just too exhausted. You hadn’t even mustered the curiosity to get a good look at Ginger tied up in the back as you had driven. Probably safer that he didn’t get a good look at you anyway.

Rust’s plan b with Dewall didn’t seem to pan out too well either as he came back to the truck with a deep-set scowl. Shoving Ginger back into place all bound up before climbing in up front. There was still hope that Marty would successfully trail the cook to wherever his hideout may be but Rust’s silence was conceringly heavy. Though, now wasn’t the time or the place to get into it with him all over again. You must’ve dozed off somewhere during the ride because when you opened your eyes, well eye…the other having swelled completely shut by now, you were pulled over on some trail. Rust just sat staring out at the scenery, more than likely lost in a swirl of his own thoughts, taking a moment to collect himself. Ginger's form was long gone from the back.

At the sound of you rustling in your spot, he merely glanced your way before looking away again. There was a tick in his jaw that didn’t escape you and you sighed knowing you’d have to be the one to buck up first.

“It looks worse than it feels.” Lie. Even the scratchy croak of your voice called you out on it.

“I didn’t want you here for a reason. What good is it if you wind up dead-"

“What you want isn’t always what you get. Next time don't take me for some fool-”

“Don’t be fuckin’ stupid-”

“And don’t you talk to me like you’ve lost your goddamn mind just cause of your pride,” You nearly thundered as you stared him down, “What happened, happened. It’s over. We pulled through with your wild-ass cowboy mission. Your panties can untwist now.”

A warm hand came to grip at your ribs, not violently, but firm enough to prove his point when the pain from your bruising nearly blinded you. Your own hand snapped up to grip at his arm as if playing a fucked up game of chicken. Who would break first? You’d be damned if it were you. Though the look in the man’s eyes had you faltering. You’d seen it before. That deep-rooted fear that bled out against his own will when it came to you more often than not. It seemed to hit him harder now that he was getting a good look at your battered and bloodied face in the afternoon light. Marty’s words from earlier felt mocking as they rang in your head.

Rust doubts you the least out of everyone around here...not bringin' you on this was an act of piss-poor self-preservation.

The idea of anything with you made him scared. Scared for you and scared for himself.

“Why did you lie to me? Truly.” Your voice fell quiet, the fight in you left just as quickly as it had found you.

He just blinked before letting his hand drop from you, however, yours stayed on him, “You’re a smart girl. You can work it out for yourself I’m sure.” He almost sounded sardonic.

“Maybe. But I’d like to hear it from you.” It might’ve been foolish to expect confessions of pure honesty from him but you’d keep giving him that option should he ever choose.

When he said nothing you brushed a knuckle beneath his eye then across his sharp cheekbone. His tired eyes fought themselves from fluttering, trying not to let your touch utterly consume him whole. It proved to be even harder when your thumb swept feather-light over his chapped bottom lip before retreating completely.

“Anything can happen, y'know. Anywhere, anytime. If you find yourself fearful of that fact pertainin’ to me then you need to let it go. If the idea of this,” You made a small gesture between you both, “is too much for you or you’ve realized you don’t want it anymore then that’s okay. I’m a big girl. I can handle just about anything. Your sanity and the sake of our professional partnership hold more priority over my whims. I don’t want my existence scarin' you to where it creates this big rift or you go to these dumb lengths to push me away.”

Those long fingers of his fiddled with the ends of your hair, grounding himself with what little contact he was able to allow himself in the moment. He was still undecided on what he wanted to do with you. What he wanted to be with you. The paleness of his skin covered by the sheen layer of sweat from the comedown of whatever he likely took in the company of Ginger had him looking gaunt. Aged even. He found himself drifting between somewhere far away and being present here with you.

“This can’t happen again, Rust. Whether we’re something or not. Especially if we find ourselves workin’ together for however long down the road. It won’t work for me no matter the circumstance. Best believe I’ll be firm on that.” You flicked at this chin lightly, hoping some of the damage from the last twenty-four hours could be undone.

“I’m-...I’m sorry.” Came the only remaining thing that could sound from his throat. And you’d take it for now.

“I’ll get over it. Eventually. It might be a tall order but you need to get in the business of regulatin’ how you respond to your own emotions more.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His final response was slightly choked but he didn’t give much else away after that. Sniffling, you leaned to the side on the truck's leather bench seat to rest your head on his shoulder once he twisted forward to face the wheel. An arm circled around your frame, his large hand finding purchase in your hair and you let yourself go for a moment as the truck began to roll forward.

You continued down the path in a more comfortable silence where Marty would be waiting for you at the end to scout for Ledoux’s hideout. Soon this could all hopefully be over and done with. What would come after, though, you hadn’t the slightest clue.

a/n: forgive me, babes. they'll be happier (until 02). thanks for reading! i'll probably go back and edit this a bunch of times bc i'm neurotic like that!

#rust cohle #true detective season 1 #reds-writings #true detective #rust cohle x reader #rust cohle imagine #true detective imagine #marty hart #fanfic #matthew mcconaughey

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evilbihan · 4 months

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It's interesting how the game never calls Bi-Han a "traitor". Sure, some of the characters do, but the game itself never refers to him that way.

One of his gear pieces is called "Wayward Son" and that is what he is, someone who strayed from the right path and lost himself in his own ambition. He made one wrong choice, one he regrets, if you listen closely to his intros with some characters, like Shang Tsung or Kitana, and it's ridiculous how certain people try and write him off as an evil turncoat who is lost beyond redemption. Liu Kang will try and (at least partially) succeed at bringing him back to the light. I don't get why people are trying to deny Bi-Han any character development and pin him to that one mistake he made or force the traitor role onto him when that's never who he was to begin with.

Bi-Han is the one getting betrayed, constantly, throughout his life. His father kept secrets from him, his brothers turn their backs on him when all he wanted was for them to be part of the future he envisioned for their clan. Even Frost wants to eclipse him and will undoubtedly betray him at some point. His own allies want to kill him after he helped them escape from captivity. Bi-Han has no one he can trust. He's entirely on his own. That may be his own fault to some extent, but I genuinely can't understand how people can be so blind to his suffering or worse, want to see him suffer even more? He's already bearing the consequences of his actions and it's painful to witness.

To get back to the point I made in the beginning, has anyone else noticed how the invasions mode nodes and encounters also never call Bi-Han a traitor or anything of the likes? I've seen Tanya's nodes and even some of her seasonal skins referencing her betrayal in previous timelines, even if nothing hints at her being a traitor this time around. In Bi-Han's encounters, the game only calls him "Ice Fighter", "Chill Initiate", "Snowfall Brother" or "Matchless Cryomancer", always refering to two things, Bi-Han's skills and his affiliation with the cold. That is who he is and always was. A cold, ruthless fighter. That hasn't changed in the current timeline and it makes no sense how some fans claim he was ruined because he made one bad decision.

When equipping Johnny as the announcer voice, the most negative thing he has to say about Bi-Han is that he's bossy, as opposed to how he speaks of actual villains like Shang Tsung ("Hate this guy" etc.). There are no references to his supposed "betrayal" which is why I believe it's only going to be a small part at the very beginning of his character arc that won't hold much relevance for the future, especially as the story develops more, except to serve as a reason for Kuai Liang and him to be enemies.

The way the game speaks of Bi-Han always sounds bittersweet to me and so do the names of his skins/gear pieces. It's almost like a parent talking to or about a stubborn kid that won't take their advice. One of my favorite examples is the kombat league skin that was added this season named "It's cold outside, Bi-Han". It reminded me of Liu Kang telling Bi-Han to "come in from the cold" and I think it's heart wrenchingly beautiful how even outside of the story mode and intros the tragedy that is Bi-Han's story is being acknowledged by the game through all those small subtle references.

One could argue that I'm reading too much into these details but I think some of you don't do that enough. There's 20+ characters on the main roster, the story would have to be dozens of hours long to give all of them in depth background stories and fully flesh them out so we can empathize with their motives. It's hard to understand Bi-Han's character unless you start looking at these small bits and pieces of lore and unfortunately, not enough people do that.

#bi han #bi han sub zero #mk bi han #bi-han #mk sub zero #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 2023

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tranquil-ivy · 1 month

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I’m going to go insane if Tumblr scraps one of my ask’s again. Gonna reveal my identity at this point. ☹️ (You wish.)

BUT OH MY GOODNESS YES YES YES, A THIRD BABY IS POSSIBLE!!!

I personally feel like Violet would be around 13-15, and Cecilia 9-10. (You can adjust with the age gap etc.) So they’d be a little older now, barely teenagers now.

Of course, the pregnancy was an unexpected thing. Both you and Leon never thought the two of you would have another baby, but nonetheless, the two of you had to deal with the consequences of your horny actions. 🙄

Violet and Cecilia would absolutely hate the two of you at first. Big sisters? Hell no. They’d literally run out of the living room yelling and slam the door to their separate rooms in frustrations. But what could the two of you do? Just wait and let them get over it…

At first, it was such a weird thing to them…Seeing their mom with a belly…Ew. And how Leon would give you double the attention made them get the ick, they were already used to y’all acting like horny teenagers but oh my god.

But alas, as soon as they met their little baby brother, oh, it was like it was the greatest thing in the world! The two of them would constantly beg to hold him, fighting over who gets to unfreeze the milk from the fridge and make him a bottle.

They’d both play with him, volunteer to even take him off of your hands for the day. (Which never lasted because they regret it as soon as he has a stinky diaper.) The two would also very much criticize his outfit choices. Every single onesie and little outfit you put on him had to be approved by his big sisters.

I also feel like they’d come up to you in the middle of target with a bunch of baby toys and clothes saying that he’d absolutely love them, and you just had to sign and give in.

- Anon! 🎀

Tumblr has been a Cunt to me the past few days with asks. I'm about to delete my whole account if it doesn't get fixed (I'm being dramatic.)

Leon and his wife would even be shocked they could have babies still... Not unhappy but you'd look him dead in the eyes and tell him "I'm getting my tubes tied or you're getting a vasectomy. No more kids."

Violetta (12) would definitely want nothing to do with the baby at first. She's almost a teenager and her parents having another kid at their DECREPIT AGE?!

So Embarrassing 🙄

Cecilia (8), still very young and impressionable would probably just be following her sisters lead but secretly be excited to finally have some to boss around.

But Violet (being the older pain in the ass sister she is) would probably get to Lia and drill it into her head that middle kids get forgotten and oh nooo she's the middle child

Make her sister cry, get grounded and her phone taken away for that.

But once their mother starts showing, Lia comes around immediately. Cuddles up with mommy on the couch whenever she can just to be close to the baby. Violets still super hesitant and not happy about it. Especially every time her dad shows you affection and like... Bucket loads of affection.

He missed seeing you pregnant. That pretty glow you'd always exude even just existing in his presence. And your cute pregnant waddle! He could go on for hours how much he loves when you're pregnant. This is a completely new experience for Lia, Violet hardly remembers what happened when you were originally pregnant with Lia . She was way too young to remember.

Time comes around when you find out the babies sex, Leon fully preparing for a 3 for 3 on the princess counter.

It's a boy... He's devastated at first. He really wanted another girl. But you on the other hand are relieved. You wanted a little boy. Not that you don't love your daughters it just be nice to have a son too. Eventually he's okay, especially after you tell him this means you need to have more renovations done to the house so there's room for the new baby. That means a new room to make into a nursery, something they didn't get to do with Lia but this time around they will.

Closer to the due date you start going over names for the baby. Leon suggesting Marvin as a middle name, you know the context of it and accept it immediately. Everyone starts throwing names around, Violet staying quiet. Lia suggests calling him Puppy...

"That's not a name honey." You chuckle at her suggestion when Violet looks at Leon.

"What's your middle name Dad?"

"Scott." Violet looks between her parents, shrugging.

"Scott sounds good to me."

You and Leon look at each other and smile. Agreeing it's a good name.

Time comes around to have the baby. Violets still against the kid, Lia's bouncing off the walls excited to meet her baby brother. You give birth and the girls are allowed in the room finally.

Both girls look mostly like a good mixture of the two of you... Leon could never deny Scott as his son (he never would) because the kid looks exactly like him. Dusty Brown hair from his younger years, cute little nose, big blue eyes and a butter ball of a chunky baby. He's absolutely precious.

Lia gets help from Leon to hold him since she's still younger. Violet keeps her distance until she walks over to check on you and make sure you aren't too tuckered out. Leon basically traps Violet between a chair and her only escape, offering her to hold her brother if she sits down. She agrees just to get this over with.

She has little Scott in her arms. He looks up at her smiling with those big blue eyes... 3. 2. 1...

She's crying. Won't stop talking about how cute he is or how much she loves him already. You and Leon share a look before he tries taking the baby back.

"He needs skin to skin time with mommy." She whines, reluctantly handing him over.

After that day you basically have two live in nanny's. Both girls wanting to help.

Unless it's diaper related...

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon s kennedy #resident evil x reader #🌿 ivy writes #🌿 ivy replies #🏡 domestic life with leon kennedy

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thesherrinfordfacility · 10 months

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so i had the bright idea of rewatching s1 today whilst im working from home, now knowing what i know about s2, and so i can ruminate a little more on s1 with the additional context. ive barely made it past five minutes

im pretty sure ive gotten most of the frames accurate from this bit, and im sure it might just be a bit of demonstrative cinematography (which ya know, *chefs kiss*) but at the same time i love going into full year 9 english teacher mode about this shit, and i think there is something to comment on (which someone already might have done but w/e). in any case, this bit of dialogue is very noticeably layered with shots of crowley and aziraphale, but intercut with the shots of adam facing down the lion:

like, i can't help but feel that there is some symmetry in this and either other people have spotted it and im very behind, OR we havent spotted it and s2 spoilers have helped unlock it✨

so who is meant to be who here? for my money it would be that adam is mirroring aziraphale, and eve is mirroring crowley - in so much that at a really shallow level, aziraphale is a platoon leader, a guardian, fought in the war etc. crowley, regardless of his rank, is a starmaker, and let's face it the boy has the structural integrity of a strand of dried linguine. so we could look at it on that level (ignore the lion for the moment ill sort of explain that if it isn't already obvious)

but also we now know that this scene is not their first meeting, and that aziraphale and crowley do in fact remember each other and know that they have met, and in aziraphale's case is probably the teeniest bit shy bc damn heart eyes as an angel, heart eyes as a demon 🥵 but my point is that this is after the fall. after (as far as crowley tells it) crowley fell for 'just ask[ing] questions", and "just hung around the wrong people".

now i have my thoughts on why crowley fell: tldr because it would require another post - both reasons he gave above are bullshit and obvs conflict with each other, so i think that he doesn't actually know why he fell and has just guessed his transgressions so he can rationalise it, that god actually never had an issue with him asking questions, and instead it was actually god's plan to make him fall so he could represent the 'evil' side of free will on earth, as aziraphale's counterpart, and essentially ensure that humankind stays eternally 'in balance'

ANYWAY so the fact that in the lion sequence, 'crowley' is being shielded by 'aziraphale' against an unknown entity; but does this mirror a flashback, or is it foreshadowing? again, id put my bets on the former visually, but the latter... lyrically? idk the word but regardless take the dialogue:

"What if I did the right thing;

with the whole 'eat the apple business'?

A demon can get into a lot of trouble;

for doing the right thing."

so let's rephrase this:

"Was it the right decision to fall;

was I right to choose this for myself?

to choose the right to choose?

Because i feel like i could live to regret it."

so is crowley in essence already asking if aziraphale is on his side? is he asking if falling was the right thing, the good thing, to do (regardless of whether god gave him any choice in the matter)? But was he given the choice, first true free will? did aziraphale try to protect him during the fall, so crowley could get out in time (but ultimately fail? or at least bought Crowley enough time to find a back staircase and fall gently and peacefully, 'saunter vaguely downwards'?), and then get assigned to earth to be the 'good' side of the coin for humanity?

and is crowley asking if aziraphale will continue to be with him? in whatever romantic, platonic, acquaintance context you want - is he asking aziraphale if aziraphale will fight for him again, for them both? aziraphale made his decision, enacted his free will, in giving the humans a sword, and thus brought the concept of war and horror to earth, even if that was never his intention - so now swordless, and now only condemned to watch humanity as it strides out on its own (or was this the plan all along?👀), is aziraphale willing to do it? does he have the power, the strength, the will? would he stretch his finger over the line to fight on their side?

maybe im asking the wrong kind of questions, but all ill say is that in the above sequence? at the end of the dialogue? adam kills the lion.

i think 'their side' began in the job minisode, yes maybe, but also maybe the idea of it, the understanding of it, was planted here.

#good omens #anyway time to continue with the rest of ep1 lmao #s1 meta #crowley meta #the fall/the great war spec

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stormikins · 2 months

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Mass Effect: Failed Opportunities.

An informal rant essay about my opinions and thoughts (and ideas/suggestions) about the choices made in Mass Effect Three. This is all because of this one post, and my friend (@xoshepard) giving me a compliment about my Shepard came back wrong headcanons. So. I’m fueled by validation and rage. A summary of the mentioned post is anonymous regrets that BioWare didn't explore the implications of Shepard dying and coming back and the fact that Liara helped Cerberus in doing so.

Disclaimer: I am a hater in this. I am. No doubt about it. If you like the story and think it’s great and nothing is wrong with it— then I am so happy for you. Truly. I wish I was the same. So, this post might not be for you. Also, this is a rant, and I try to keep it sensible so apologies if it’s not.

Word Count: 3k

TLDR: BioWare flip flops between decisions and choices and never truly settles, disregards choices already made, and leaves players wanting (AND THEIR MOTHERS!) while eviscerating character personalities. Consistency is not in BioWare’s vocabulary. Or dictionary. Or thesaurus.

One of the things that I dislike the most about BioWare's choices regarding this matter is that Shepard starts having these crisis thoughts/questions about if their body is theirs or not, etc. not only in the third game, but at the end of it. The player is literally doing the mission that marks the point of no return in the end, the last of two until the game is finished, and now Shepard is voicing these thoughts. Roughly sixty-ish hours since the beginning of me2 if the player is a completionist. (not to mention how much more time in between playing bc people have lives but I digress). This isn’t a plot hole, it’s a speed bump the player trips over and then the game expects us to get back and get going while asking why our nose is bleeding. Fuck you BioWare.

Now, one could construe this into being part of Shepard's character; squashing down all these conflicting and worrying thoughts to focus on their mission, bc they are a soldier. They literally don't have time for this. But now they're physically confronted with their reconstruction post-awakening haze and/or denial about it all bc Cerberus could be them lying to Shepard bc of manipulation. All right. If that is supposed to be the implication, Shepard putting their mental focus on their mission, why didn't Shepard have this crisis when they were in lock-up for six months, aka where they literally only have time to think?

James having a throwaway comment to Shepard, or another crew member (bc they talk to each other now between missions!), about how he's worried about them, about how Shepard had a freak out some point in lock down, the level of 'freak out' does not need to be expanded upon. Hell, James can just say maybe they passed the time asking each other philosophical questions, maybe about consent and choices and bodily autonomy. It could help lend more weight with Shepard posing these questions during the Cerberus HQ bc these thoughts are still plaguing Shepard. Shepard dies-again-without getting closure-again. This would fall into the cycle theme that the games have.

But, like always, Bioware fails to capitalize on opportunity.

Now. The Citadel DLC. sighs Shepard's repeated variations of "don't want to talk about it" it being the clone and everything else that's happening in the DLC, lends more to the theory of Shepard's supposed to be repressing this all. But the counter point about Shepard having their crisis in lock-up still stands.

What could have been interesting is if Shepard had these identity issues in 2 and potentially in three and given that the Citadel DLC ends with the clone always dying canonically, it can be a pivotal moment for Shepard to realize that they are who they are, different than their me1 counterpart or not (it also would be cool if characters mentioned if the player was choosing choices that an imported me1 Shepard normally would not have) and to have a clarity moment that they are Shepard. This clone and these logs could have provided a clean tying of loose ends of Shepard having identity issues instead of the teammates saying two lines about how they know that Shepard is Shepard and Shepard simply... moving on bc you do all this in the middle of a base attack. The player's mind is already set on defeating Cerberus (finally) and getting revenge, on being so close to the end of the game! It's also OPTIONAL. Yes, the player is automatically entered into a dialogue wheel but the choice to leave without seeing what's on the logs is immediately available.

Another thing the previous post went into was Liara's involvement. Her part in Shepard's reconstruction is not explored in the game. The player never learns about how Liara helped, just that she did and that she lost Feron because of it all to the Shadow Broker. I will not go into the comics, bc 1. I have not read them and 2. If developers must depend on supplemental media to explain key plot points, they are in fact doing it wrong (this is a conversation for another time).

I would not be as bitter about Liara's involvement if the game treated it better. The player has to complete two quests to unlock the dialogue of Liara telling Shepard that she gave their body to Cerberus. Shepard’s renegade dialogue to Liara apologizing about giving their body over is as follows, “all this time, it wasn’t your sources. You knowingly gave me over to Cerberus. You did this to me!” SHEPARD DOESN’T SAY ANYTHING ELSE. JUST SITS BACK DOWN AND THE RENEGADE RESPONSE TO HER SECOND APOLOGY IS TO SAY, “Let me know if you need any more help,” AND YOU LEAVE. WHY IS THIS THE ONLY TIME SHEPARD ACKNOWLEDGES THIS. wow. AND WHY IS IT LIKE THIS? ITS OPTIONAL. I— Again, this could tie into Shepard bottling up feelings and acknowledging them in Me3, could show Shepard as an actual person is the game lets us choose to be mean or turn her off but alas, the player cannot because the game likes ruining Shepard’s character (which I’ll save that for later).

One could say that Liara would go to any lengths for those she loves, whether the player romanced her or not, but in the first game, we have no indication that she is willing to go this far. I have a belief that nothing is 'out of character' if the circumstances are right. Now, these circumstances are right: two important figures in Liara's life die (Shepard and her mother), Liara's only connection to her theories on the extinction of the reapers dies as well, the threat of the Reapers, and all the traumatic experiences she had during me1 and then the destruction of the Normandy all collide together to make it realistic that Liara wouldn't be able to let Shepard go. There is one thing, though, is that this is all boiled down into “I couldn't let you go” and the game doesn't show it. Doesn’t show Liara's descent down into this rabbit hole, doesn't show the switch getting flipped of her turning much more ruthless compared to her me1 characterization.

She does show ruthlessness in some regards in me1, willing to kill her mother no matter their relationship. But out of all the SR1 cast, she is one of the most paragon characters. The game does not show the shift into Liara's characterization. No commentary from Me1 companions about how Liara suddenly shut them out, or from Feron talking about the things Liara was willing to do to get Shepard. No comments from Miranda and Jacob who I do know were part of the retrieval mission about how Liara acted. Liara is just immediately introduced with quoting her mother’s threats. WHICH IS SO INTERESTING! Again AGAIN the game goes nowhere with this. We get optional dialogue from Aethyta about the Matriarch’s being concerned about her but that is optional, and only if the player talked to her in Me2 does she show up in Me3 and deliver said dialogue. Liara herself never confronts this. Even when SHE TALKS ABOUT HER MOTHER. LISTEN— LIARA COULD HAVE TURNED INTO A SCIENTIST THAT WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR HER RESEARCH. TO PROVE HERSELF RIGHT BECAUSE SHE IS, SHE KNOWS IT AND SHE’LL DO ANYTHING LIKE BRINGING SOMEONE’S DEAD BODY TO A TERRORIST ORGANIZATION TO RESSURECT AND YET—

Garrus, on the other hand, gets his new characterization explained. In me1 he already tends to be reckless, ruthless, and selfish. It is no surprise that when Shepard died and the Council buried the truth, he went vigilante. The game shows his new bleak outlook on life bc we find him fighting for his life in a base full of dead bodies and then he explains he got betrayed. We deal with his character arc. We do not deal with Liara’s.

One could argue that could go and show how Shepard wakes up two years in the future and everything is different and confusing. Which I will agree with. If it was purposeful. And I don’t think it is, personally.

She doesn’t stay this new ruthless way. I am not saying she can’t be more than one-dimensional; I like that she can be soft with Shepard and the other companions. But all of a sudden, she, the character whose introduction in Me3 is her popping a singularity and gunning down two Cerberus goons with a cold look on her face, “can’t be that callous” about not focusing on the death numbers in the middle of a war zone because “that’s my home down there”. A home she rarely talks about, and she’s also been in numerous war zones just as bad as this. Liara, who spent more time in digs or collecting intel than with people, feels a sudden connection with her people.

I would like Liara a lot more if they didn’t eviscerate her character, thank you. Don’t take this the wrong way, I love her, I think she’s great. She just has the potential to be so much more.

Like—

Mass Effect for some reason, tries not to be an RPG. They don't give the players a proper choice/dialogue to allow Shepard to be mad at Liara about what she did. Or to stay mad. (I am not going to get into the debate of whether being mad at Liara should be a renegade option or paragon). It would make sense for someone to get pissed at the person who gave their dead body over to scientists to reanimate, but also terrorist scientists. The same terrorists that Shepard potentially fought in Me1 and also potentially discovered were behind the whole sale slaughter of their entire platoon and the torture of the only other survivor of the incident.

(I can’t remember if Shepard ever mentions Akuze to Cerberus. Funny, isn’t it. How the games like to take away Shepard’s agency but not in any compelling way.)

Besides, simply not choosing paragon options, it’s never mentioned again what Liara did to Shepard, which makes sense if Shepard accepted Liara’s apology. But what if Shepard, and the player, doesn’t? Liara’s forced on the player in Me3 as Shepard potential confidant, showing up repeatedly to Shepard’s cabin to move the plot forward, give Shepard missions/updates. Yes, the player can refuse to get personal with her which I do appreciate it. Like I said, Liara’s actions never get brought up in any meaningful way to help Shepard on a character journey.

Another failed opportunity about Shepard’s character is when the games don’t get into what Shepard is like post-resurrection. The game seems to be in the middle ground of making Shepard different but not still human, but in actuality, they can in the words of Hannah Montana, have “the best of both worlds”.

Me2 shows how Shepard is different now. “I’ve noticed a few upgrades,” Shepard states when talking to the Illusive Man on Minute Man station. Shepard can have multiple hard-hitting drinks in a row along with Ryncol in Dark Star, Zakera Ward. A poison tailored for humans served by a batarian bartender in the lower segment of Afterlife only knocks Shepard out, not killing them like it does to every human before.

That is how far the game will go in showing how different Shepard is, not counting renegade scarring. Which is a waste.

Shepard is The Protagonist. The main character. They have done the actual impossible. They are the Sole Survivor, the Hero of Elysium, the Butcher of Torfan, Savior of the Citadel, repeller of Geth, Collector, and Reaper armies and a host of other incredible achievements. They are a prophet, the damned, a modern-day Cassandra. The tip of the Spear, the Diplomat, the Soldier. Coats in the FOB on Earth says that it means something to the soldiers to see Shepard with them. They are “a tool, an agent with a singular purpose,” TIM calls them. (And a Karen ‘accuse her of classism’).

And yet, when Shepard gets revived—the most impossible of all things (and yes, it’s not like they had anything to do with it, it was Miranda and her team, but the Lazarus project only had one subject)—they are not made further into something larger than life. Something Other. Something that sets them out from the others. Because they’re Commander Fucking Shepard.

They literally have a vision of a dying race in their head that propels them to stop the Reapers. Me1 does a great job of playing with it. The player sees it once in Me2 and Me3, a side mission (Blue Suns: Archaeological Site) and after retrieving Javik, respectively.

Mass effect is all about cycles. The Reaper’s, Saren/Tim parallels, etc. What could have been interesting was instead of the reoccurring dream we have about a child that gets his emotional impact tarnished because of said dream and the star-child, the game does a mesh of the vision, prothean civilization in ruin, and the ruins we see of current civilizations from the missions Shepard goes on. Keep the oily shadows that whisper quotes from our dead teammates, but also have their voices coming from long dead Protheans pleading with Shepard to stop the Reapers, to save them.

Shepard can’t get any escape from the war, from the Reapers in their sleeping nor waking hours.

The game not making Shepard Other and going in the opposite direction—that despite all these upgrades Shepard is still human—would be fine if it was done better. A good stereotype of “I’m only human” is when a character fails. Shepard fails in Me3 most prominently on Thessia. I’m all for having characters fail but only when it’s done not so obnoxiously.

It’s a terrible fight. It is. Kai Leng hides behind a gunship that Shepard took down at least three separate times in Me2. Two of these instances are non-optional (Garrus and Samara’s recruitment, with Kasumi’s loyalty quest being the third). So, Shepard—Commander Shepard who literally destroyed a proto-Reaper—can’t destroy a gunship. It’s insulting how they ruin Shepard’s character in three.

In the end cutscene, Shepard clearly hears and registers that Kai Leng orders the gunship to fire on the supports of the structure and… runs further into the building. One could argue Shepard was trying to get the Prothean VI for the catalyst, but Liara is shown scanning it with her Omni-tool. What did she do, if not copy it? Why would she not? Why wouldn’t Shepard? They’re in the middle of a war zone, with enemies that were just right outside the door. Why stop for a chat here and now? (I know why, the plot demands it and lore dumping— lore that contradicts the lore dump by Vigil in Me1 so I’m even more inclined to not like these proceedings).

Kai Leng is Shepard’s nemesis in Me3 (and I’m forever mad that he is) and he’s supposed to be badass and edgy and able to go toe-to-toe with Shepard. Yet the game shows he can’t. He can’t reach his target because a terminally ill drell stopped him, or he didn’t notice Bau being cloaked in front of the Salarian councilor. (I can also go into how stupid this scene is with BOTH Thane and Bau).

He gets one over Shepard with the C-SEC sky car chase but that doubles back to BioWare ruining Shepard’s character by making them an idiot. Why not hit the brakes? Why not do a couple barrel rolls? Why fire through what should be bullet proof glass because it’s a C-SEC sky car?

Kai Leng can’t go toe-to-toe with Shepard unless Shepard gets dumbed down into an idiot and isn’t someone who reached not only Commander rank but also became the first human spectre. HELLO!?

So, Shepard failing and still being human and fallible doesn’t hit because they execute it poorly via Kai Leng and his stupid plot armor.

Who would be Shepard’s nemesis if not Kai Leng? HARBINGER. YOU KNOW THE REAPER THAT TAUNTED SHEPARD IN ME2? THE VERY FIRST REAPER MADE? THE REAPER THAT WE ONLY SEE—NOT TALK TO—SEE IN THE LAST HOUR OF THE GAME? THAT GUY. (matter of fact, throw in some of Harby’s arrogant lines about Shepard not being able to stop the Reapers in the alternative dream.) Harbinger should have possessed troops like he did in Me2 in the major Reaper battles. Earth. Menae. Thessia. He should have showed up somewhere, boasting about how they’re darkening the sky of every world. YES THAT’S A SOVEREIGN CALL BACK CYCLES! SHEPARD’S VISION IS COMING TRUE RIGHT BEFORE THEIR EYES AND HE’S NOT BRAGGING!? I THINK THE FUCK NOT! If you’re gonna make the Reapers so obsessed with Shepard as shown in Me2 with Harbinger’s comments and making a human looking Reaper, KEEP THE OBSESSION FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! I hate that the Reapers are obsessed with Shepard, Reapers who are above organics, have no weaknesses etc. and the entirety of Sovereign’s brilliant Virmire speech, because it’s not CARRIED OVER!

The enemies should have primarily been the Reapers from the start, and Cerberus the splinter group trying to sabotage the player. Make them smaller. Keep them kidnapping people for troops and biotic tests and lying about Sanctuary being a sanctuary and not run by Cerberus. Continuously have them send assassins—plural! Phantoms and nemesis— after Shepard with Kai Leng at the head of them. Even better if a strike group of baddies show up randomly during missions and watch out! Now Shepard has to deal with them as they fight the Reapers—in the same mission— because Cerberus wants to stop Shepard from killing the Reapers so they could control them and secure human dominance. Kai Leng is kept away from his target because they’re also fighting Shepard where Reapers are. Have them locked into statements until the environment falls apart literally forces them apart. Have them actually be equal adversaries.

Cerberus is introduced to be a mere group Shepard took out in Me1. They’re not all gone in Me2 surprise! Okay that’s fine and yet they not only sunk so many resources into Shepard and had so many cells gone rogue but they’re able to stage a coup on the Citadel! Pardon?? “But our resources are not unlimited, rebuilding you was a significant investment. And a significant risk,” Miranda tells Shepard in Me2. Cerberus kidnapping people on Benning would make sense if they’re scrambling for troops other than the relying on Sanctuary. (EVEN IN ME3 THERE ARE ‘ROGUE FACTIONS’— still a common occurrence for them. It’s never explained if Cerberus is lying about Benning or not). If they have these many rogue cells, again, how can they manage all they do in Me3? Especially if scientists are leaving Cerberus as well, aka the Ex-Cerberus Scientist mission Traynor gives you.

Yet, the player talks more to the Illusive Man than Harbinger in Me3, the leader of the Reapers, and we confront TIM at the end of the game, the most pivotal moment. The moment which people have sunk countless hours into, and we get a power hungry and indoctrinated TIM to… talk into shooting himself or firing a single bullet at him. There is no physical fight between the two. The conversation is similar to Saren’s and again, cycles are a theme, so why can’t we get a Reaper!TIM fight? The player, and Shepard, deserve the choice to fuck him up. This is a military game after all, they’re supposed to be encouraging our aggressive nature.

They ruin TIM but also Shepard.

Shepard never grows and changes like the characters around them, and their resurrection could have—should have—played a part in that. If they’re supposed to remain the same, be a tool for the narrative, make them it. Lean into that. The player chooses options. What would be an interesting mechanic is to make it a struggle for a certain background to get a certain morality. Have Shepard be stating doubts about who they are and if the player is contradicting a stereotypical background (Butcher trying to be paragon, a Hero trying to be renegade), they meet the camera—the players eyes—as they explain their inner turmoil. Make Shepard feel like the tool they are, like they’re not in control of their actions. A renegade overcoming it all and being a paragon hero, or a fall from grace paragon that brings the galaxy down with them. A renegade trapped in a cycle of violence (CYCLE) who can only see the world down the barrel of a gun, or a paragon who continuously chooses kindness. MAKE IT MEAN SOMETHING!

I think I’m done. So.

In conclusion, my love and passion for this game transitions into rage because of seeing possibilities squashed like a bug under a boot. To borrow Star War’s phrase: Mass Effect could be so good if it was good.

#mass effect #yes im putting this in the tag idc #anyways this was fun #im finally dictating my thoughts on ME3 cause it fucking sucks #ive played this game the most out of the entire trilogy and any other game i own

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transgenderteensurvivalguide · 4 months

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i will have top surgery tomorrow, can you tell me it will be ok please?

Lee says:

Good luck my friend!

I know that surgery can be scary, but by the time you're ready to have surgery, you've already had a consultation with your surgeon and a pre-op appointment, and may have also gotten a letter from a mental health provider. During this process you've had the opportunity to have discussions with your providers about the procedure, its risks, benefits, and potential outcomes. You've probably also spent a fair amount of time researching surgery online, if you're anything like me, and may have also spoken to post-op individuals about their experiences for additional insights. So you already know what to expect from the surgical process.

It can help to remind yourself why you're going through surgery. You chose to have top surgery for a reason-- probably multiple reasons! Think about the goals you hope to achieve through top surgery-- you probably hope it will have a positive impact on your mental health and quality of life. Keep that hope in mind and envision your life post-surgery.

I had top surgery myself, with no complications, over 6 years ago, and I'm very happy. There were a couple (maybe many) moments in the early post-op period when I had a lot of anxiety and worry, but top surgery was the right choice for me and I am glad I went through with it-- now I have the rest of my life to live in a body that I feel comfortable in. I can't promise you that you will not experience complications or that you won't have any regrets, but I can tell you that I have faith in your decision-making abilities.

If you trust the expertise of your surgical team and feel like you have information you need to make an informed decision, and you feel getting surgery now with this team is the right choice for you, then it probably is. Remember that you are the expert on your own needs, and that you know that you are making a decision that will help you to grow into the future that you want to have for yourself.

Pre-op anxiety is super normal, but taking care of your mental health is important! If you need more support than you can get from those around you (Friends, family, partner, etc) then reach out and ask for help. If you're experiencing significant emotional distress or struggling to cope with the surgical process, a trans-friendly therapist or counselor can be really helpful in managing things like post-op anxiety or depression.

And again, you got this anon!! I hope you have a smooth and uncomplicated recovery.

#Lee says #top surgery #surgery m

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 5 months

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a brief retrospective on Louis and Violet as love interests, Clementine's bisexuality, and the fandom's continued insistence on fighting over this

In December of 2019, I made a series of posts called "An Explanation of Why Louis and Violet are Both Excellent Love Interests" that explored my feelings on the topic after seeing a lot of fighting in the fandom over who's better; who is the "right" choice for Clementine?

The answer is simple: there isn't an objectively correct choice.

I compared Louis and Violet to the romantic options in other games, including Life is Strange, Persona 4, King's Quest 2015, and Catherine, as well as TWDG: A New Frontier. I wanted to show how much better TFS handled the romance versus those games, why we should be grateful for what we got since it could've been a lot worse, and how the fighting over who's "right" was a waste of time.

I suppose it's only fitting that I'd be driven to revisit this topic after seeing fans continue to argue amongst themselves over this years later in the trenches of a weakening fandom.

Just when I think I'm done writing pieces for TWDG, some random redditor writes an essay about how violentine only exists for "woke points" that grabs me by the throat and throws me down. Then another will insist that clouis is abusive since Louis voted against them in ep2 in their own essay and I'm dragged back here, kicking and screaming.

While I think my previous Excellent Love Interests posts about this are on the juvenile side, I do still agree with my main point: Louis and Violet are excellent characters who make for compelling love interests. The fact that we got them both, that we were given the choice, and that they're as well done as they are, is something I don't think we appreciate enough. Hell, I don't think we even appreciate that Clementine's a canonically bisexual protagonist as much as we should.

We're too busy trying to one up each other with, "Well, actually, clouis is superior because of this and this," and "no, you're wrong, violentine is actually better because of this and this," and sometimes a wild non-shipper will appear out of nowhere to slap down an, "actually, you both suck, singletine is better."

It's sad that this is what fandom inevitably defaults to, always. It stops being about the game we love, the thing that brought us here, and it becomes a pissing match.

Doesn't matter what fandom it is; we end up projecting too much of ourselves onto fictional characters, investing too much of our time into ship culture, hyper-fixating until it becomes part of us... and let's be real, sometimes it's in unhealthy ways.

So, when someone else attacks the things we're attached to, it becomes a personal attack... and when we feel threatened, we become defensive and retaliate... and sometimes, we take it too far and target others out of insecurity, to feel validated, even if it means going after someone who is just minding their own business.

Also, I think some people are just assholes who want to piss on everyone.

Because of this, I would like to discuss Louis and Violet as romanceable characters, why they're both important to TFS no matter who you choose, why Clementine being a bisexual protagonist matters, and the fandom's continued insistence on fighting over this.

For many personal reasons, I've always been trepid about being open with my sexuality as a bi woman. I've done a lot of reflection this year on why that is; internalized misogyny, the biphobia that lingers in the queer community, insecurities, regrets, how I tend to be harsher on female characters over male characters, why it took me so long to not feel afraid of engaging with queer media, admitting I was wrong about so many things I've said in the past, how it's all affected my writing, etc.

When TFS released and I made this blog, I had already accepted my bisexuality but was in no way public about it, not online or in my personal life. But playing the first two episode of TFS, being presented with both Louis and Violet as potential romantic partners struck something inside of me.

Yes, I picked Louis; we all know I'm a major clouis shipper at this point, and if you're new here, then now you know, too.

But it's the fact that Violet's also an option, that with just a few different button presses, Clementine could've fallen for her just as she did with Louis; that there's evidence in game that she shows interested in both of them no matter your choices; that no one in-game judges Clementine for who she chooses to be with... that meant something to me in a way that it hadn't before.

TFS wasn't the first game I played with a bi protagonist; in Excellent Love Interests, I compared Louis and Violet to Life is Strange's Chloe and Warren. I have a lot of mixed feelings about the first LiS game overall, but I've been quite open about my dislike of Chloe and indifference to Warren.

Chloe, to me, is everything I dislike in a love interest, predominately in wlw. 2023 was the year of "CJ dives into sapphic literature and it's a 50/50 chance of striking gold or gettin' hella eaten by disappointment, shaka brah." Meaning I've read a lot of wlw novels, and all the ones I hated featured a Chloe clone, sometimes done even worse.

And Warren? I'll be real honest with you- I couldn't even remember what his name was when I started writing this. I had to go back and check. That tells you what I think of him, no?

So, LiS didn't strike me the same way. Sure, I knew Max was a bi protagonist and that's great, but the choices weren't appealing to me. This was when I was a teenager still somewhat in denial of my sexuality, which most definitely contributed to me being uncomfortable when faced with a wlw relationship portrayed in-game, especially when I found myself wishing Kate was an option for Max... but y'know, "shhhhhhh if I don't acknowledge it, it doesn't exist."

When the first episode of TFS released, I was older, I was no longer in a not-so-great relationship, and had better accepted who I am. The first episode does a great job of introducing you to Louis and Violet, and giving you the opportunity to spend more time with the one you're interested in.

I actually really liked them both when ep1 dropped, but I've always had a preference for a character who is kind, deflects with humor, and tends to be picked on by the rest of the cast... so it was inevitable that I'd stick with Louis. Though I won't discredit Violet in ep1, or the rest of the game, just because I didn't choose her in the end.

That's one of the best things about Louis and Violet as options; they're opposites, yet alike in many ways. They have their appeals and charms. They're flawed. It never feels like a "love triangle" situation where they're fighting over Clementine. Louis and Violet are friends who have known each other from before the walkers came. It's refreshing to have two characters who are interested in the same person but don't go for each other's throats over it. When they do argue over her, it's more to do with AJ shooting Marlon and whether it's safe for the group to let them stay.

I can't fault anyone who struggled to pick between them. When someone talks about who they picked and why, it's all about the player's preferences.

It's your choice to make, and no matter what, you're not wrong for it.

This season concludes Clementine's story, regardless of what some comics will say. It's the last fight. It's her happy ending. She and AJ finally found a home, a family.

I've played these games since S1 came out in 2012, over ten years ago. Clementine holds a special place in my heart. Not only did this important character have a great final season [despite Telltale shutting down and TFS nearly being left incomplete, remember] but she's also revealed to be canonically bisexual.

They didn't release the whole season and then as an afterthought be like, "oh yeah btw she's bi, she has oneline of flirty dialogue with this character so see? we did good rep."

Yeah, I'm side eyeing you, ANF.

They didn't try to hide it. They presented it to the player unapologetically and made a conscious decision to exclude anything biphobic from other characters... which meant a lot to me.

Biphobia is real and it's not that I don't want it explored well in media, but there's something appealing and safe about a game with a bisexual main character who isn't questioned about it negatively; "You're bi? Doesn't that mean you cheat on all your partners?"

To give a compliment to Life is Strange: True Colors, I had a similar feeling in that game, too. Alex is openly bi, she can date either Steph or Ryan and no one questions the "legitimacy" of her bisexuality.

Because that's always a thing on top of everything else, y'know? "You're a bad bi unless you're with the 'gayer option.'" "Bisexuality isn't real, you're just confused." "I don't date girls who've been tainted by a man." "Oh, you're into girls? How about a threesome?"

Violet never turns her nose up at Clementine for admitting she had a crush on Gabe. Louis isn't ever gross about Clementine and Violet getting close. It speaks volumes for their characters and how accepting they, and everyone else at Ericson, are of Clementine no matter who she chooses, if anyone.

That acceptance, even if it's just in a game, means more than words can express to queer players who don't feel that acceptance in their daily lives.

Which means it hurts all the more when it comes to the fandom's own display of biphobia; "You're bi but ship clouis? Why ship something hetero when violentine is right there?" "Well, MY Clementine's straight because she picked Louis! Stop forcing the gay onto MY Clementine!"

Clementine's important to all of us. Why do you think so many people are pissed about the comics to the point of spewing disgusting bile toward Tillie Walden? I've said my piece on that plenty times before, so allow me to say it on this; the representation of bisexuality in Clementine is beautifully woven through TFS in ways that are subtle yet impactful, and I thank TFS for giving that to us.

One argument I've come across recently against Clementine's bisexuality, and violentine in general: "blegh they only included violentine/made Clem bi for lgbt points." y'know... as if that's a bad thing.

It bothers me because A. saying "I'm not homophobic *but*-" and then making a homophobic argument against violentine while insisting that Clementine's bisexuality came out of nowhere and was forced is icky, and B. I know I've said similar things about violentine in the past. I know I used to argue that violentine's underdeveloped, yet the devs pushed it to the forefront over clouis to pat themselves on the back for doing representation, etc.

I don't believe that anymore; remember when I brought up people making arguments out of insecurity? Yeah, that and being lowkey bitter that violentine got more dev attention than clouis sometimes even though like... that doesn't matter? It literally doesn't matter. That's what I meant when I said you get so invested that certain things feel like a personal attack when they're not.

Some of the developers of TFS are queer people. They probably wanted a bi protagonist with a wlw option because that representation is important to them and they had the opportunity to express it, not because they were trying to get "points" with anyone. Go listen to the commentaries for TFS; they talk about violentine with nothing but positivity, and they didn't do that to shade Louis or clouis shippers. And if you do think they did it shade fans, then maybe stop and consider why; do you actually believe that or are you annoyed that your fave wasn't the center of attention?

On the flip side, I also want to say that gloating and insisting that violentine is the better/right choice because of these things is also unpleasant and untrue. It sucks when it feels like things are biased against you and it sucks even more when that bias is weaponized by other fans to beat you down.

But honestly? If you need this much validation on your opinions about fictional characters, maybe you should stop to think about why that is and what it says about you, yeah?

Truly, this whole clouis versus violentine thing is irritating at best, vile at worse. Thankfully it doesn't happen as much on tumblr given the state of the fandom, and everyone's at least agreed that no matter their feelings toward each other, clemricca is worse. So, that's something, I guess.

I think the best way I can put this is you don't get to dictate what other people think and feel. Being passionate is great until it becomes an excuse to be an asshole. Not everyone is going to agree with you and you need to put your big kid pants on and accept that.

I'm under no impression that the fighting will ever stop, even when this fandom is dried up with only bones and memories haunting its desert... but at the very least, I can point some of it out and ask that we do better than this.

The focus gets lost in the fighting, and that focus is Louis and Violet themselves. Y'know, the two this retrospective's about.

Remember when I talked about Persona 4 in Excellent Love Interests and how much it sucks when the person you want to romance isn't actually an option--?

Hmm? What's that? Ah, yes, right- @pi-creates insists I add that TFS and Persona 4 actually are the same because Aasim wasn't an option and they're still bitter about that... but this isn't about Aasim, that's a topic for another day. Sorry Pi, but thanks for the screenshots used in this retrospective👍

Anyway, TFS gave us two excellent choices, and it would've been worse off had it only given us one of them, or none at all.

Louis wears charisma as a mask and uses humor as a shield to deflect. Violet, for as quiet and standoffish as she first appears, has a heart she's both eager and reluctant to share.

Louis is warm curtains of sunlight seeping through the murmuring woods of green leaves and little song birds. A heart carved into the rustic wood of an out-of-tune piano. Music echoing in the early morning hallways.

Violet is the glow of a full moon that illuminates still waters so the stars can dance in its reflection. Paint smeared over finger tips to offer a piece of herself meant to be worn. Constellations of stars named in secret.

They're both lonely people, often misunderstood by the others at Ericson, and sometimes by each other. They want to be known. They want to be seen.

But fear is a powerful wall to overcome.

And that's the beauty of choice. You get the impression of knowing them in the beginning, but it rarely breaks surface tension; Louis is nice and funny but undependable, Violet's rude and reserved and a little awkward. Neither are outspoken about any issues around Ericson, content to keep their heads down.

Clementine has to make the effort to know them, and the game establishes this by asking you an unassuming question: do you want to go hunting with Louis or fishing with Violet?

Clementine either makes an effort to understand Violet's feelings toward Brody and why she's so mean to her, and try to help her through it... or she doesn't listen to what Violet's saying, is dismissive, and ends up making things worse.

When Clementine goes hunting with Louis, she has to make the decision to spend time with him or ignore him in favor of hunting, and should she choose him, he opens up to her just a bit.

Then comes the confrontation with Marlon at the end of the episode where Clementine has to make the choice of who to appeal to. The gravity of this choice is often glossed over, I think.

Marlon has a gun pointed at her head, and she pleas for Louis or Violet to step in and save her. Both are hesitant because of course they are! They've known Marlon longer, he has a gun, and he's using manipulation to scare them into submission; he uses his friendship against Louis, and Minerva against Violet.

But when Clementine gets through to them? They stand between her and Marlon in rather in-character ways; Louis eases in with his hands up, attempting to deescalate the situation while Violet pulls out a weapon and demands he back off.

They risked getting shot. They risked death. They knew what was happening was wrong. They didn't want Clementine to die, they didn't fully believe Marlon's bullshit but were too scared to step forward until Clementine asked them, too. In that moment she basically told them, "I trust you. Instinct tells me you are the one who can stop this. My life is in your hands."

This choice changes them, and this moment ripples through the rest of the season. It makes perfect sense that Louis would be upset over Marlon's death and feel unsafe with Clementine and AJ there whereas Violet sees the death as justified and Clementine and AJ shouldn't be kicked out over it. It's an overwhelming situation for everyone.

I've talked about ep2 and the vote until my lungs nearly collapsed and I saw the gates of Hell over the horizon... but that's fine, I can talk a little more about it and maybe this time the flames with cleanse me of my sins or something.

This is where the fighting really began, and I shouldn't have to say it again, but I will anyway: There isn't an objectively correct answer here, there's only personal preference.

Louis and Violet take very clear, opposite stances on this situation. I think they're both a little wrong and a little right; they shouldn't ignore that AJ killed Marlon, but kicking them out isn't the best solution either.

As a clouis shipper, I happen to like the way these events play out with Louis' vote. But not everyone feels that way. For some, Louis' vote is a deal breaker, making Violet the more appealing option given she voted for Clementine and AJ to stay.

Do you want a girl that's been by Clementine's side from the beginning and was vocal about keeping her and AJ here?

Great, Violet's the choice for you. Enjoy the lovely moonlight and constellation mini-game.

Do you want the extra angst of a boy who made a vote he comes to regret and then does everything he can to apologize and make it up to Clementine?

Wonderful, here's Louis. He'll play you a song he wrote and then name it after Clementine, it's very cute.

While on the topic of ep2, I also want to discuss the episode's final choice of saving either Louis or Violet and the consequences.

You know how in other games, say like massive RPG's with "good" and "evil" choices you can make that end up defining your character? You know how sometimes people question why developers even bothered putting those evil routes in since a majority of people will choose to be good? This isn't a new topic of discussion, but it's relevant to my point- they do it because the option to be evil makes the choice to be good more impactful. If you do choose to be evil, you did it knowing you could've been good and yet you decided chaos was the way to go, and now everyone and everything around your character suffers.

I don't think it only applies to binary "good" versus "evil" choices, either.

TWDG is great with its "You can only save one of them" choices, even if they usually fumble with the consequences in later episodes.

When I'm faced with this choice to save either Louis or Violet, I don't save Louis just because I like him more. Sure, initially that's why I saved him on my first run... but then the rest of the season came out and I learned the consequences of the choices I did and didn't make.

Knowing that he'll get his tongue cut out if I don't save him makes me all the more anxious to choose him. And I know violentine shippers are gutted knowing that if they don't save her, she'll feel so betrayed that she turns on Clementine and in the end is blinded in the boat explosion, so they're just as eager to save her.

But all of us have to live with the consequences of what happens to the one we didn't save, too. We made the decision to save the one we love at the cost of hurting the other we didn't love enough. You can't save them both. You're forced to hurt one of them in order to protect the other.

And it doesn't even stop there. TFS isn't done twisting the knife.

Mere moments before you have to make the choice to save one of them, Lilly's standing over Clementine with her finger on the trigger... only to then be tackled by the person you didn't choose to spend time with.

They just saved Clementine's life only to be dragged away by their neck, and the game asks you what that's worth: They got captured saving you, so do you save them in return or do you remain loyal to the one you chose before?

And when you know the consequences of both routes, when you know Louis will have his tongue cut out and Violet will have her eyes burned?

Louis and Violet are good people at their cores who only wanted to be understood and loved, and no matter what, you have to abandon one of them for the other... and they are left physically and mentally traumatized because of it.

But wait, there's more. The one you didn't save will always survive to the end and act as a constant reminder of what you chose... but the one you saved? If you don't trust AJ, then you'll be forced to watch them get torn apart and eaten alive by a herd of walkers. The only way to save them is to trust AJ so that he shoots Tenn.

A child has to die in order for you to save the one you love again, a choice you indirectly made.

The ending shows you the one you didn't save, and it shows you Tenn's grave... and it presents a quiet question: was it worth it?

Would you make those choices again?

That's the power Louis and Violet bring to TFS.

That's why the choice matters.

We justify trusting AJ because we'd rather see Louis and Violet live over Tenn, knowing we're taking away the best friend AJ's ever had and allowing Minerva to get her way. We save Louis knowing that it breaks something inside of Violet and results in her permanently losing most of her eyesight. We save Violet knowing that we'll find Louis bloody and sobbing in the cell after having his tongue cut out of his mouth.

And we argue about it amongst ourselves even though it's all fucked. There isn't a true happy ending here, not for everyone.

Louis and Violet stand on their own as great characters, but you only get the true depth depending on how you play. They're excellent love interests because they care for Clementine. Through their relationship with her, they grow as people and find the acceptance and love they're starved for.

It's not perfect, but it honestly doesn't need to be. There was care woven into these characters. Both routes have a wide appeal. That means something to so many people.

I know we as fans often will say we wanted more, we wanted this and that, we wish this was different. It's not a dating sim where the main objective is to woo them. It's not a massive RPG with hundreds of hours to explore every nook and cranny of their characters. This is a Telltale game. It's a narrative with Clementine and AJ at the forefront, and it's up to you whether you want Louis or Violet to share that spotlight.

It's a story about Clementine finding a home, about molding what kind of survivor AJ comes. It's about Clementine meeting two broken people with glass shards at their feet, about her glass mixing with theirs. It's a game about choice; which glass pieces do you pick up, and which do you step on?

We should take more time to appreciate Louis and Violet. We should share our appreciation for the development team for giving us a bisexual lead with two great love interests, especially since we almost didn't get TFS in its entirety; we can hate Skybound as much as we want for the Clementine comics, but without them, this team wouldn't have been able to finish the game they were clearly passionate about.

We should have more self-awareness and try to understand why we like and dislike things without targeting others.

In conclusion?

I think they're both neat 👍

#twdg #twdg clementine #twdg louis #twdg violet #twdg clouis #twdg violentine #clouis #violentine #long post #i didn't plan on writing this for new years but here we are #might as well end 2023 with some clouis and violentine talk mixed in with some self-reflection and shade toward reddit #i have many thoughts so thanks for reading them

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