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#there's no she can abuse us for the rest of our life as long as she genuinely loves us for one day
perlelune · 2 months
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Training Wheels | Coriolanus Snow | iii.
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Your mother's macabre work never appealed to you as you always preferred the comfort of your books, but when her apprentice takes a special interest in you, your safe, quiet world is flipped upside down.
Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Gaul!Reader, Shy Reader, Manipulation, Parental Neglect, Drinking, Peer Pressure, Hazing, University set, Loss of Virginity, Dumbification, Insecurities, Abusive Relationship, Degradation, Suicide Attempt
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
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“So what’s your deal?” Festus Creed asks out of the blue. 
Your mouth opens in shock, a nervous laugh slipping out. “My deal?”
A mocking sneer twists his features. “Yeah, Coriolanus kept trying to get you to eat with us but you were being weird about it. If you hate us, just say so.”
While some snigger at the table, Coriolanus stares daggers at him. The mirth instantly vanishes from Festus’ face.
Clemensia bumps her elbow into his rib, chiding him, “Festus, come on,”
“I don’t…hate anyone,” you defend, your voice hardly above a whisper.
Clemensia flashes you a reassuring smile.
“Of course, you don’t. Coriolanus said you’re very sweet.”
Livia rolls her eyes.
“Ugh, whatever. Can we get back to discussing the Yuletide Ball?”
Surprise flutters through you. The name bears vague familiarity. It can be found in the archives detailing the history of the Capitol University. But it’d since long become a frivolity amidst concerns such as quelling the uprisings in the Districts. What’s a students’ dance in the face of war and famine?
“The Yuletide Ball? I thought this was an abolished tradition…I mean since the war.”
Excitement illuminates Livia’s face.
“We’re bringing back the tradition this year, thanks to Coriolanus here. He convinced the new dean.”
Coriolanus lowers his head in apparent humbleness.
“I just made a few good points and he couldn’t refuse me,” he shares. He turns to you, blue eyes sparkling.  “I’m pretty persuasive when I need to be.” A chill dances through you at his low, suggestive tone. 
To your relief, his attention switches to the rest of the table.
“It’s important to not let District scum ruin our way of life. Traditions must return.”
Livia smirks. “Spoken like a student body president.”
Coriolanus waves a dismissive hand but a hint of smugness lingers in his tone as he says, “Please, elections are only in a month.”
“And it’s obvious you’ll win,” Clemensia states.
He gives a light shrug.
“We shall see.”
Clemensia pivots to you.
“Ivy, Liv and I are on the Ball committee,” she preens, her face brightening. “You could join us if you want.”
You lick your lips. “I don’t know if I’d find the time with midterms coming up soon…”
Coriolanus’ fingertips graze your arm as he offers, “You should do it, angel. It’d be a good way to expand your social circle.”
“You mean her nonexistent circle,” Festus gibes.
The blond’s jaw clenches.
“Talk to her like that again and see what happens, Creed.”
Festus cowers, nervousness flickering on his face. He clears his throat.
“Sorry,” he says to you.
“It’s fine.”
Coriolanus’ fingers latch around your wrist as his steely gaze cuts into Festus.
“No, it’s not fine,” he articulates. 
Undisturbed by the altercation between the boys, Clemensia prattles on about the ball.
“We meet up every Saturday morning. We’re working on winter-themed decorations right now. It’ll be so fun. It takes forever to do though.” She looks at you with emphasis. “An extra set of hands would be really welcome.”
“Clemensia…”
“Call me Clemmie,” she interrupts. “All my friends do.”
Friends? You study her hand clasped around yours. The concept is a little foreign to you. You also ponder why someone like Clemensia, with her perfect silky mane and smooth, blemish-free face would want to befriend you. She is the girl everyone gravitates towards. Charismatic, smart and nice to boot. And you might as well be a fly on a wall, ignored on the best days.
You are so stunned that it takes a shamefully long time for the words to fall back on your tongue.
“Clemmie, I’m usually busy on Saturday.”
“Oh.” She deflates, her hold on your hand loosening. “I get it. Sorry I asked.”
The excitement on her face plummets. Immediately, you feel terrible. You’ve never missed a single Saturday of studying, using that time to break down your more complicated courses of the week. But Clemmie looks crestfallen.
Perhaps, this one time, you can adjust your plans a little. One Saturday won’t make a difference in the entire year.
“But…I can try to free up some time,” you offer.
She perks up with your response.
“Great. We’ll be expecting you then.”
Lunch then proceeds, the table resuming the lively debate they were having before you showed up. Festus maintains facts about his family’s role in the reconstruction after the war while Clemensia rolls her eyes. They go back and forth and you observe them, slightly fascinated by the exchange. It’s such a rare occurrence for you to be around others that you soak every bit of their interaction. You get the inkling this happens a lot between them, them ruffling each other’s feathers. Ivy and Livia get wrapped in their own secret conversation you don’t catch a single word of. Meanwhile, Coriolanus watches all of them, taking a bite of the food on his plate every once in a while. The way he eats is slow, nonchalant, almost like he couldn’t care less what’s on his plate. Even if he doesn’t interject at any point, he looks right at home at this table. Unlike you. You recline into silence, letting every minute fly by as you wait for lunch to be over. When it finally is, relief surges inside you. 
You mumble a quick goodbye and gather your things. Clemensia beams and waves at you while the others barely acknowledge your departure. 
You head for the hallways, trying not to allow your mind to linger on the strange, uncomfortable lunch. Still, your mind swirls. You curse yourself for every blunder and awkward moment. You told him you don’t belong, that you’re an outsider, and always will be. It’s painfully obvious. From the way you dress, talk, carry yourself, you have nothing in common with girls like Clemensia or Livia. There’s a vast chasm between you and them. He should have listened. It astounds you that you even let yourself get roped into joining Clemensia’s committee thing. Though perhaps that won’t be too much of a hassle. You’ll show up to keep your word, then sink back into your rigid study routine.
Coriolanus’ deep voice, a sound you’re now oddly familiar with, erupts behind you.
“Let me carry those for you,” he says, swiping the books in your arms before you can protest. He falls in pace with you, a gentle expression decorating his  handsome face.
You frown, the uncanny emptiness of your arms swelling your discomfort.
“You don’t have to-”
“I insist,” he interrupts, chuckling lightly when you try to reach for your books and he dodges you with ease. Your shoulders sag. Your strides hasten, an urgency limning your steps now. 
Coriolanus meets no issue with your escalating cadence. He easily keeps up with you, a subtle hint of mirth lurking in his cobalt gaze. 
“It wasn’t too much, was it?” he inquires. “I know they can be a lot but they’re all good people. I promise.”
A myriad of words weigh heavy on your tongue but you diplomatically swallow each, settling for a safe, innocuous remark.
“Clemmie was nice.”
The corners of the blond’s lips quirk skyward. 
“I told you she was.”
The statement hovers between the two of you for a while. Clemensia seems nice indeed. The rest of his friend group…perhaps a little less so. Possibly a bit more cutthroat and self-absorbed. Though you surmise it is a requirement to be a member of Panem’s elite.
No other word is traded between you and him as you make your way to the lecture hall. 
“This is me,” you announce.
You turn to Coriolanus, hands stretching towards your books. He makes no move to give them back. Your forehead creases.
He gives you a sluggish once-over before offering, “What if I drove you back home after your classes?”
You nibble your bottom lip, dismayed by his proposition. You’ve caught glimpses of his fancy new car, as you’re sure most have at the University. As heir apparent to the Plinth fortune, he gets to spend money as he likes. 
“I usually walk. It’s okay.” 
He gets a little closer. “Come on, angel. Just let me do something nice for you.”
You shrink until your back hits the wall, stunned when Coriolanus follows each of your steps.
“My last lecture is…Professor Bellweather tends to ramble,” you mumble, his proximity unnerving you. “I don’t…I don’t know when he’ll be done.”
He licks his lips.
“I’ll just wait for you, angel.”
He utters the words like it’s obvious. You gawk at him. It takes you a few minutes to retrieve your speech.
You scratch your arm, your frown accentuating.
“You really don’t have to. Like I said, walking home is fine.”
The gaze trained on your form sharpens.
“And I’m offering to take you home so you don’t have to exert yourself.” He bends over you, invading the already insufficient space between the two of you. “Has a friend never done something like that for you?”
“N-No,” you admit. 
His tone’s heavy with suggestion as he rasps, “So let me be your first then, angel.”
Your heart stumbles inside your chest. 
“I’m gonna be late for class,” you blurt out, attempting to brush past him. 
Coriolanus’ hand darts out, swiftly cinching around your wrist to stop you from leaving.
“I still don’t have an answer,” Coriolanus says.
You glance from his hand, tight around your wrist, to his determined gaze. Your throat goes dry.
“Okay, you can d-drive me back home.”
He releases your wrist and returns your books, a smile ghosting over his lips.
“Wonderful. I’ll come get you later, angel.”
Clutching your books against your chest, you watch him glide away.
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As promised, Coriolanus is waiting for you when you exit from your last class. You don’t even think to hide your shock as you find the blond leaning against the wall. A smirk unfans on his lips, your reaction seeming to amuse him.
He doesn’t say much to you as you walk side by side and head to his car. When you’re outside, he surprises you by opening the passenger door for you before you can even lift a hand. 
“T-Thanks,” you stammer. You plop down on the plush seat. The leather smells new and expensive.
Your nerves thrum as he takes the driver’s seat and starts the car. You’ve never been alone in a car with a boy before. Uneasy, you let your eyes roam outside the window. The Capitol’s high buildings blur past you rapidly. 
You’re lost in your thoughts when you notice the prickling sensation over your flesh, The burning, unwavering weight of Coriolanus Snow’s scrutiny. 
Your head whirls.
Bashful words quake through your lips.
“Do I have something on my face?” Your hands reach to touch it, just in case.
He chuckles.
“No,” he replies, shrugging. “It’s a nice face that’s all.”
The casual compliment sends a wave of heat through your body. 
“Can you drive?” he asks, curiosity lighting his features.
You shake your head. Getting your license has never been a priority. Besides, it’s only a thirty minute walk to get to the University. You don’t mind it, often using that time to sneak in some reading.
“No.”
“I could drive you if you like,” he offers, his gaze holding yours. “Anywhere you want to go.”
Your cheeks warm. “I’m okay.”
Coriolanus nods, his focus shifting back to the road.
“You always say that…” He hums low in his throat. “I’m just not sure I believe it, angel.”
You’re so nervous the entire drive that you don’t even notice when he arrives at your house. You stare at him, mouth agape. You haven’t given him a single instruction on how to get there.
“You know where I live?”
As he opens the door for you, Coriolanus simply replies, “You told me earlier.”
Your brows furrow. You don’t remember telling him but his tone harbors no doubt. You rummage through your brain, seeking the moment. Nothing comes up and you grow confused. 
You blink up at him.
“I-I did?”
“Yes, you did, angel.” He snorts as if your line of questioning is beyond ludicrous. “How else would I know?” He slams the door of the car as you rise. “Besides…Dr. Gaul is my mentor. Of course, I know where she lives.”
You nod. That makes sense and it didn’t even occur to you.
“I…”
He cocks his head. “What?”
You fidget beneath his stare, discomfort flaring in the pit of your stomach. 
“Nothing. Thanks for driving me home.”
He flashes you a wide smile.
“My pleasure. See you soon, angel.”
He starts the car and drives away. You don’t feel quite at ease until his car’s gone from view, heading towards the Corso.
Walter zooms across the room as soon as you enter the large apartment. Your eyes wander about. As usual, the place is empty besides you and Walter. Mother rarely spends any time here nowadays, her work occupying all of her time. 
Walter rubs his furry head against your ankle, twirling around you as he meows. He then stands on his hind legs and starts gently raking his claws across your leg. A way for him to demand that you pet him. A small smile tugging your lips, you pick him up. The orange ball of fur purrs, curling against your chest as you carry him in your arms. You make your way to the kitchen and pour a mix of leftover meat and fish in his bowl. 
You set him down on the floor. His tail wiggles as he hops to his food.
You crouch next to him.
“You wouldn’t believe what happened today, Walter,” you say while giving gentle pets to his back. “I was invited to their table.” The orange cat pauses his eating to stare up at you blankly. “Yes. Theirs,” you repeat as if he could understand you. He gives a long meow before focusing on his bowl again. You sigh. “I know. I thought the same thing.”
Once Walter’s emptied his bowl, you pick him up again and make your way to the living room. 
You collapse on the couch.
“And then…Coriolanus Snow drove me home. Yes, the Coriolanus Snow. I didn’t even think he knew I existed.”
For a while, you remain on the couch, stroking Walter’s fur as he sits on your lap. His tail whips the air, his eyes closing as you pet him. His soft rumble of content reverberates against your belly, amplifying when your fingers drag behind his pointed white ears. You lean back, a blanket of peace settling over you. 
Walter’s not just a strange-looking cat, he’s also a rescue…from your mother’s experiments. A kitten mutt with mismatched eyes, one blue and one yellow, his mushed, wrinkled face gives him a passing resemblance to a rodent. Pets like him are a rarity in today’s world as most creatures such as him were eaten during the First Rebellion. 
Your mother finds him appalling. In her eyes, he is a failed experiment. Like you. Perhaps it’s why you have such kinship with the creature. You still recall her unsettling glance in your direction the day she asked the entire class of nine-year-olds at the Academy if they had pets they were sick of. She then proceeded to burn the flesh off a lab rat to demonstrate her pulsed energy laser.
This moment is burned into your mind forever, your mother’s clinical tone chilling your blood.
You stole Walter from the Citadel and took him home that same day.
You were careful to hide him, though you suspect your mother figured out what you did. She likely added it to her long list of disappointments when it comes to you.
Sometimes, you envy Walter. The simplicity his days hinge upon. His obliviousness to the woes of the world. His uncanny ability to sleep through the chaos of it, ignore the disarray. Walter’s world consists of food, play and cuddles. 
What a blissful existence. You bet Walter never had a vexing thought in his short life.
The train of your thoughts is interrupted by the shrill ringing of the phone.
You carefully remove Walter from your lap. He meows in protest and jumps off the couch. You pick up the phone, chest clenching as a familiar face fills the flickering screen.
“Mother,” you greet. “How are you?”
She ignores your question, curtly stating, “You’re falling behind in Molecular Cell Biology.”
You know that tone all too well, the warning laced within it so achingly familiar.
Your fingers twist around the phone cord, your voice becoming small.
“I’ll get my grades up, I promise.”
Silence hovers between you and your mother for a while. Faint hope sparks within you. Perking up, you decide to tell her about your day.
“Oh, mother, today-”
“I must go,” she interrupts. “It’s time for my milk and cookies.”
Your spirits plummet. You nudge a hollow smile onto your face.
“Right. I didn’t realize,” you say, checking the clock hanging on the wall. “I’m sorry.”
She heaves out a deep sigh, her lone blue eye narrowing.
“Focus on your studies. And try not to be even more of an embarrassment to me than you already are.”
“Y-Yes, mother,” you reply, your heart shriveling inside your chest.
As she hangs up, you feel silly and horrible. Silly for trying to strike up a normal conversation with your mother. And horrible for letting her down once more.
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“You came!” Clemensia exclaims as she rushes to you. You try not to tense as she gives you a tight hug. Ivy and Livia linger in the background, their eyes lifting from the crafts’ table. 
You wave at them and are surprised when Ivy wiggles her fingers at you. Livia is more withdrawn, nodding to acknowledge your presence but quickly returning to her task.
You step out of Clemensia’s embrace and flash a quick smile.
“Well I promised you that I would,” you reply nonchalantly. You take a look around the room. Various decorations and posters are propped against the walls, while snowflakes cut-outs and what looks like moon dust are scattered on the table. It seems the girls have been busy.
You turn to Clemensia. “What’s the theme again?” 
Ivy surprises you by answering cheerfully, “Well, it’ll be like a Winter daydream and we were thinking of making it a masquerade.”
Excitement sways in Clemensia’s bright eyes. “What do you think?”
“Sounds nice.” Your trite answer draws every gaze in the room to you. Awkwardly bouncing on your feet, you correct yourself, beaming at Clemensia. “I meant amazing.”
“I think so too,” she chimes.
She shows you the empty chair next to hers. The both of you sit down and she starts rambling about the theme and all the ideas she has to decorate the ballroom. You grow dizzy with all the information, trying to follow along her instructions at the same time. 
“We’ll need to find you a date,” Clemensia says. 
You shake the can of blue paint before spraying over the tree cut-out.
“It’s okay. I probably won’t be going anyway,” you respond absently. 
The pencil in Livia’s hand snaps. Your head rises. The blonde’s gaping at you. You then realize…the same look of disbelief is etched on all the girls’ features. A frown mars your brow. Did you say something wrong? You didn’t realize this was such an important event. 
A nervous laugh peals off Clemensia’s red-painted lips.
“No, but you have to,” she says, “It’s the first Yuletide Ball in over a decade. Everyone will be there.”
You shrug. “It’s four months away, Clemmie.”
Her onyx gaze shimmers.
“Well, a lot can happen in four months,” she sings, a mysterious smile spreading onto her lips.
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neesieiumz · 7 months
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brontide || ──────── r. braun.
day three - SPITTING / HUMILIATION / EXHIBITIONISM
『 synopsis 』 ⸻ a night with your friends gets you into way more trouble that you're looking for.
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『 warnings 』 ⸻ mafia!au. mafia-boss!reiner. the mafia part is implied but not explicitly mentioned. he also owns a sex club. sm*t. minors do not interact. humiliation. exhibitionism. spitting. emotionally-abusive ex-boyfriend. who happens to be floch. and who also happens to be in prison for five years. he calls you sweetie/sweetness. he's been obsessed with you the moment he saw you and sent your ex to jail so he can have you. one of reader's friends are also a part of the mafia and basically escort her to go to the club so she can get snatched up.
『 writers notes 』 ⸻ first day of kinktober! been planning this since august and I'm gonna finish it! By god's grace, of course!
『 word count 』 ⸻ 6.4k words
masterlist. next part in kinktober.
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Laughter echoed into the night, and the entire group huddled together ambled alongside the wet sidewalk. Your arms were hooked around the arms of your friends, walking in sync with them as the rest of your friends followed behind you all. The air smelled fresh, of wet petricor and tar, evidence of the recent rain that fell over the city. You felt light as if your head could fall off your shoulders, the slight buzz from the round of margaritas you all had during your dinner together. The original plan was to continue the party at your favorite club, but you found the line to be too long and it was slowly ruining your buzz. So now you were walking through the town, hoping to find something to continue the fun you’ve had tonight. 
Before, you’d never thought you’d be out like this, with friends, wearing short dresses and a huge smile on your face. Seven months ago, you were a whole different person, quiet, frightened, and controlled by your ex-boyfriend. However, miracles could come in the newest forms as he suddenly found himself thrown into prison, which inadvertently caused your freedom. Ever since then, you found yourself living more and more free, living more and more for yourself. You packed up most of your things, sold what you could of his things, and moved cities and jobs, finding a career or even higher pay. With your ex-boyfriend out of the way, as well as removing him from everything you could, it helped that he was in prison, and it made everything in your life in order.
“You know,” you felt one of your friends whisper into your ear, “I’m glad you could come out with us tonight.”
You had met her not too long ago, the two of you running into each other while you were in the middle of running errands. Since then, you’ve assimilated yourself into her friend group and all of you are becoming really close, really soon. However, swamped with work, at your new job, you hadn't had a chance to step out and have a fun night off with your new friends, who were all pushing for the time with you, especially since you told them about your ex-boyfriend. Learning about how before he went to prison for robbery, and how  he kept you isolated from your friends, family and controlled your money
You smiled at her, lifting your hand up to brush a few of your braids that were blowing in your face, “I’m glad I finally found the time to come out.”
She smiled at you, glancing down at your dress, “and I see the choice of dress you wore. Isn’t this the one I had to convince you to buy on one of our shopping trips.”
The dress was black and short, with a long slit going up the side, with thin straps holding it. On the slit, connecting the two pieces of fabric were multiple bedazzled thin pieces of fabric. It was different from what you would usually wear, but as you glanced down at it, from the fabric to the low-plunging neckline, it held a certain freedom that you hadn’t felt in a long time. The two of you gave each other a smile, as the entire group approached the newest location, a club that had opened up recently. It was brought up by Michael, who was your friend’s boyfriend, and mostly everyone agreed to finish the night out there after dinner. The name of the club was plaster at the top, glowering in a pure white. The rest of it was covering dark red LED tassels, it was opulent in nature, and the towering building had your heart clenching for a moment. You lowered your head, now gazing at the very long line peeking out the door. 
“That line seems… long,” you mumbled, as you all got closer and closer. 
Your friend glanced over to you, squeezing your arm, “no worries, Michael knows people, he’ll get us in.”
“Tessa!” 
The two of you turned to see Michael waving at her, gesturing for her to come to the front. You were about to let go of her arm, but instead, she held onto it tighter, taking you along with her. The rest of the group made way for the two of you as you all reached the doorway. You could hear the jeers of the rest of the line, seeing your entire group waiting at the entrance skipping the rest of the line. You stood right before the bouncers guarding the door. They were huge, wearing tight, black shirts and heavy cargo pants. They held tablets in their hands as they glowered down at you all. 
“We’re ummm…” Michael started, “we’re friends of the owner. He should already be expecting us.”
The bouncer glanced between the group before his eyes landed right on you. His hard stare caused you to slightly flinch, but Tessa’s grip on you only held tighter, keeping you in place. Your heart pounding away in your chest, you saw the bouncer glance down at the tablet before looking right back at you, before turning towards his coworker. The two of them whispered for a moment, and then the coworker picked up his small radio before entering into the dark nightclub. 
“Come in.” is all the bouncer said, before moving out of the way.
You glanced around at the group but you had no time as you were pulled into the building and into the dark space. Inside, it was dark, you almost couldn’t see ahead of you if it wasn't for the white strobe lights constantly moving and flashing around the room. The music was dark, with a huge bass boom, you couldn't feel your own heart beating. You pressed your hand against your chest, hoping for a reminder that you were still alive. Before you knew it, the group broke up all going in different directions, you could barely see where the rest of them went. You could feel Tessa’s arm pulling you away, past all the ladies standing and moving about it.
Before you could even think, you were standing against the bar table, your mind barely getting used to the loud music, and the constant movement all around you. The bar table was the only thing with consistent lighting, with low back wall lights, lighting up the different stacks of liquor, as well as low-hanging black lights as well, causing you to see the working bartenders making different orders. You glanced over to your left, hoping to see Tessa or some form of her standing right beside you but you couldn't. If you held your hand out in front of you, you probably wouldn't be able to see any of your fingers. You let out a shaky breath, soon realizing you couldn't hear yourself breathing. You glanced around you once more, not able to find any semblance of your friends anywhere around you. You felt weird, out of place even, you didn't know where to go. You turned your head around once more, taking note of everything around you. At the same time, an empty stool opened up, allowing you to sit down and rest your feet. You were still looking around, but still, all you could see was the strobing light, now a mixture of blue and gray, and the crowd of bodies.
Suddenly a hand tapped on the one hand you had placed on the counter, causing your already jittery body to jump, your body flying right back around, facing the bar counter. In front of you stood the bartender, with short, blonde hair, and a white towel laid across his left shoulder. He wore the same uniform as the bouncer, with a black shirt and you could see the hems of the heavy cargo pants. 
He stepped back a moment, his hands in the air as he took note of your jumpy attitude, “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
You shook your head, “sorry, I’m just a little jumpy, it’s my first time in a place like this.” You yelled over the loud music, leaning over the counter.
He smirked at you, “Well, I’m sure you’ll have a good time.” That's all he said before sliding you over a tall martini glass. 
It was filled to the brim with brown liquor, with a little bit of foam brimming at the top of it. You tilted your head at you, a questioning look on your face. 
“I don’t… I don’t remember ordering anything.”
The man shrugged, “it’s on the house, for you know… your first night here.”
That was the last thing he said to you before walking away, before tending to others sitting at the bar. You looked at him as he walked away before facing the glass one more. Slowly, you reached over to the counter, picking up the glass by the stem before bringing it over to you. You brought it up to your nose, taking a whiff of the cocktail. You could smell the slow-churned liquor, strong and expensive in smell. You glanced at it one last time, before taking a sip, the smooth mixture sliding down your throat easily. A slow, warm tingle rose up within you as you took another sip. Stepping away from the bar, slowly immersing yourself in the crowd. The crowd was moving all around, dancing in waves and into each other. You stood around, looking into the crowd of dancing people, seeing if you could find your friends anywhere, mixed in with the crowd. 
With nothing, you decided to move on, sipping on your glass as you slowly stepped around the perimeter of the club. You could feel eyes on you, prickly-like needles poking and prodding at your spine. Turning around with swiftness, you found yourself glancing up at what seemed to be the second floor, seeing people standing about up there. There was some level of privacy, with only semi-opaque windows showing off what seemed to be a private party. Your eyes glanced over from the railing of the second floor, your eyes guided to what seems to be a stairwell, located not too far from you. You could see two bouncers standing there, with a velvet rope keeping the general populous away from what seemed to be a more private crowd. 
“Hey!”
You gasped, feeling something cold prodding at you as you turned around, seeing the friend you walked into standing right behind you, her boyfriend not too far from her.
“Hey, I was looking for you!” you yelled over the music, taking another sip of your drink.
She smiled at you, giggling and crashing into you, most likely unstable from however much she drank, “sorry, me and Michael got lost in the crowd and we ended up joining someone’s randoms section! You should join us!”
The moment she said that Michael, the boyfriend, came up to her, pulling her away, whispering something in her ear. Your friend’s joyful expression soon faded, the two of them delving into whispered arguments, furrowed expressions on both of them now. Not wanting to get in between them, your eyes soon wandered towards the stairwell again. Two people, a couple, soon stepped up to the bouncers standing there, exchanging words between them. The bouncer glanced down at his tablet, much like the ones in front of the club, and scrolled through it, before nodding at his partner, who unlocked the velvet rope, allowing the man and woman to enter and soon walk up the stairwell to the more private party. 
“You curious?”
You jumped for the third time that night, your head whisking to the right, before seeing a tall figure standing over you. The first thing you notice about him is his olive green eyes, it was like they shined within the strobe lights. He had long dark hair, which you could tell was pulled back in some kind of bun. You couldn’t help but glance down further, seeing him wear a suit, his hands tucked into his pockets. He tilted his head, before the two of you turned your heads at the same time, staring at the stairwell. 
You shrugged your shoulders, “I guess I am, why? What’s up there?”
He mused, “can’t tell you that, but I can get you in, if you’d like?”
You narrowed your eyes on him, “why should I trust you? I don’t even know your name, and why would you do this for me?”
He shrugged his shoulders, “feel like being nice for a very pretty lady, think of it as my act of kindness of the day.”
He pressed his hands around your waist, before guiding you towards the stairs. At this point the thought of your friend and her boyfriend flying out of your mind as you headed closer and closer to the flight of stairs. Your mind racing with a never-ending stream of thoughts, and your heart pounding away at your chest, you honestly had no idea what you were doing. You took a final sip of your martini, just as you stood with the man in front of the bouncers. 
The two workers took one look at the man, not even bothering to look at the tablet before the one handling the velvet rope unhooked it immediately, allowing the two of you to pass. 
“Enjoy your time, Mr. Jaeger, Mr. Braun is sure to be expecting you.”
Braun…?
That name was familiar to you, you had no idea how, but you heard it before. However, before you could dwell on it, your escort, denoted as “Mr. Jaeger”, pressed his hands into you, guiding you up the stairs. You took one last moment, hoping to catch a glimpse of your friend, but you could no longer see her standing where she was last left, and neither could you see her boyfriend either. You shrugged the thought off, remembering the short conversation with her about joining someone else within the club. The sounds of the club became more muffled the more and more you climbed above them. Mr. Jaeger took his time to take you towards the more privatized area. You saw an empty table, glancing down at your glass before placing it on there, hoping someone would pick it up. 
The door to the area wasn’t covered by bouncers, but it was hidden from where the general population could see the few viewings of whatever was going on within the room. Jaeger is what you’ll call him until you can learn his real name, open the door, gesturing for you to walk inside first.
It was much like the crowd downstairs, but smaller, and with fewer strobe lights. It looked to be a private party taking place. You could tell by the banner that hung up in which you could vaguely make out the words “Happy Birthday.” Everyone was up in a ball in the middle of the floor having the times of their lives, with people scattered about as well. You ignored the white powder on some people’s tables as you maneuvered yourself through the standing people. 
Before you knew it, you had made it out of the crowd, stepping into a cleared-out area.
You took a moment to glance behind you, seeing the heavy crowd, and all the bodies moving about. Turning around, you suddenly found yourself face to face with a door. It was watched over by two heavily tattooed bodyguards. The men guarding the door looked different than the bouncers, each of their arms heavily tattooed, wearing heavy utility belts around their waists. Your curiosity was slowly taking hold of you, as you tilted your head at the men. 
Suddenly, the two men in the center took a few steps to either side, parting like the Red Sea, as the door behind them suddenly opened. Your eyes caught onto the first boot that walked out of the darkness, your eyes trailed up slowly as the rest of him appeared from the pitch-black, darkness into the low, gleaming light. The first thing you noticed was his hazel eyes, they gleamed through the light, capturing your pure attention. His blonde hair contrasted against his dark suit, his hands tucked into his pockets as he stepped down the rest of the way. He stopped, just right in front of you, and the two of you locked eyes. You took in his entire form. Your head tilted just a little, as you looked upon his face, the clean-shaven look, the broad form, realizing that he looks so familiar, that you’ve seen this man before. 
Memories flash before you, tan walls, bright lights, sliding chairs, and tables, black suits, and a mean smirk staring down at you. You glance up, jumping as you realized the man has gotten closer to you, no longer standing on the steps in front of the door.
“It’s been a while, sweetie?”
Braun… 
It was like lightning had struck you, as your mind flashed back to almost a year ago. 
“Babe, what is this place?” You couldn’t help but ask as you looked around the fancy lobby area. 
However, he didn’t answer you as he walked up to the hostess behind the table, talking to her before guiding the two of you somewhere. You tried to speak up again, asking him about this restaurant he took you to, but he only hissed at you, before focusing on the table before you. It was a long table, filled almost to the brim with prim and proper-looking people, all talking amongst themselves. 
“Mr. Braun, I’ve brought more of your guests.”
The scattered chatter spoon became hushed whispers as almost everyone looked up at the two of you. At the head of the table,  hardened hazel eyes looked up at the two of you standing there, the intense stare causing your back to straighten up as he glanced between the two of you. He had his folding in front of him, resting on his elbows and he produced a glare so menacing towards your boyfriend, the only thing you could skin them to was the hard and nasty stares your grandmother used to stare down at you whenever you broke her stuff.
“Mr. Forster, I should have you arrested for stalking,” the man started, waving away the hostess.
Your boyfriend, despite the obvious and sudden sweat that dripped down his face, as well as his shaky hands, spoke, “yes, Mr. Braun, I understand, but I just really need some of your time to talk about this new business venture.”
Business venture… so this wasn’t a romantic dinner like you thought it would be. YOU could feel yourself deflating as your boyfriend suddenly let go of you. He reached down, pulling out the seat closest to him, immediately, sitting down, leaving you to be the only one standing. Flustered, you began to reach for the seat next to him, hoping to pull it out and sit next to him quietly.
“Stop.”
Everyone froze, as the words echoed through the nearly empty backroom of the restaurant. You looked up only to find his eyes on you, which only caused everyone else’s eyes in the room to look at you. 
“You crash my event and make yourself known, the least you can do is pull out your own girlfriend’s seat, huh Forester?”
Floch, already flustered and embarrassed, only turned red as he stuttered against his words, “Oh, oh right, sorry, Mr. Braun.” Your boyfriend began to move to get, to pull your seat out for you. 
“I’m not the one to say sorry to, and don’t bother moving,” is all Braun said, before snapping his fingers.
All of a sudden, a man wearing an all-black suit appeared right behind, causing you to jump a little. He pulled your seat out for you, making a quick gesture for you to sit down.
“Take a seat sweetness.”
Quietly, you thanked him before sitting, squeaking as he pushed into your chair for you. Glancing up, seeing Mr. Braun’s eyes on you as you settled down into your seat. 
— — —
Seeing those same hazel eyes sent you in a whirl spin. Almost a year passed and you could still remember them staring into your eyes just like that day. 
“Mr. Braun… the dinner party…”  your words tasted acrid as you spoke them, inadvertently bringing up the memories of your ex-boyfriend. 
His chuckle sent electricity down your spine, seeing him step a bit closer towards you, “just call me Reiner… glad to see you remember me, huh?”
“Yeah… I’m surprised you remember me?” You winced at your words, internally yelling at yourself for the awkward choice. If he noticed it, he didn’t say anything about it, only moving towards you even more.
“Can’t forget a pretty face, now can I?”
Your mind was yelling at you to move, but you could barely bend a knee as he towered over you, his hands no longer tucked in his pockets, instead, he reached up, his hand slightly pushing past your long braids that frame your face, before caressing your cheek. You couldn't help the shaky breath, the clench between your legs as you got a whiff of his string cologne. 
“Come with me.”
It was a demand, not a question.
He took you by the arms before leading you up the platform he had once descended from. You couldn't help but glance back at the retreating party behind you, seeing the crowd get smaller and smaller as your vision soon became surrounded in black. The two of you moved through the darkness, the music changing from the EDM-focused club music to something a lot slower, and a lot more sensual, combined with a lot of bass. 
It was as if you stepped into a new dimension. 
The atmosphere was different from the one downstairs. That one was exhilarating, heart–throbbing. 
This one was heart-stopping. 
Your heart felt strained, trying to pump blood throughout this entire experience. Your inner ears constantly vibrated and fuzzed as you took a step into the crowd. Every movement felt like it slowed down, you could barely see two feet in front of you, much like downstairs, but somehow, it felt… different. It felt as if the bodies were closing in on you with every step you take. You rubbed your cold hands against your skin, hoping to warm it up a little and gain a sense of grounding within you. You let out a shuddering breath, feeling the temperature around drop with every step you take. The music was loud, almost deafening even, you could barely hear yourself think. All you can do is take one step at a time, trying to warm yourself through the cold environment. You couldn't help the way you held onto the man taking you deeper and deeper into this new-founded area, digging your nails deep into his arms to steady yourself into this anchor of a man. 
The two of you soon pull up to this table, surrounded by other people as he guides you to a velvet-cushioned seat, before sitting right beside you. All the men sitting around were huge, wearing suits of all different fabrics and cuts. in their hands either held expensive cigars or lit up, causing the area around them to smell like smoke. This caused your face to grimace, moving your hand up to your nose to block the smell. 
“Smoke’s getting to you, sweetie?” A low voice came up to your voice.
An arm wrapped around your shoulder, a hand grabbing at your face before turning it to the right. 
“I always hated the smell, Floch used to smoke cigarettes, and would stink up the apartment too.”
“Heh, you’ll get used to it,” is all he said, reaching out as someone handed over a perfectly wrapped and sealed cigar.
That same person lit it for him, before bowing and taking their leave. You watched them just as he inhaled the first smoke. The smell hit you, your nose slightly wrinkling at the tobacco. Reiner’s arms kept you close, putting you up against the smoke as he looked down at you. 
Before you lost your nerve, as you turned to him, your hands rubbing down your arms to calm the chills that ran up your spine, “Why did you bring me here?”
Reiner glanced down at you, blowing smoke out from the corner of his mouth. He then leaned down towards you, his heated breath from the cigar ghosting over your ear. 
“Look around Sweetness, what do you think this place is?” He whispered into your ear. 
Your eyes glance around the room, landing on the different people moving about. Some people were standing around smaller stages, watching strippers easily glide themselves up and down the pole. However most of the people were standing around couches, you could barely see what they were looking at. Looking closer at one of the couches, seeing one of the bodies move, your eyes widen at the scene. You saw a man—no, two men, one towering over a woman and the other one having her on his lap. You couldn’t see everything, but you knew what was happening, what the other people were watching. Reiner must have heard your gasp when you spotted one of, what looks to be many events, happening on the couches.
Your legs crossed, a dull sensation washed over you. Suddenly, your hyper-awareness activated, feeling Reiner’s hand on your thigh. His hand continued to trace circles in your thigh, his actions causing your head to feel slightly fuzzy, combined with the smoke in the air, from the cigars and the heavy smoke machines. You could only sway with the beat of the music, your body grazing against Reiner’s body. His arm that was once weighing on your shoulder slid off, before trailing up your face, pushing past your braids, caressing the left side of your face. The roughness of his hands grounded you just a bit, your dropping eyes fluttering open a little to look at the man with you. 
“Did you like what you saw, sweetie?” He whispered to you, his lips grazing the outer shell of your ear.
You nodded your head, vigorous in nature, gasping as he didn’t move his head from your ear. Rather, he leaned even closer, dipping down a bit before pressing slow and soft kisses against your neck. It had been a long time since you’d had anyone touch you. Seven months since you broke up with Floch and even longer even since he had gotten arrested. A shaky breath left your mouth, your hands reaching up to his suit, gripping onto it for balance. The hand was touching your thigh slide up, slipping in between your legs, his fingers grazing up against the slightly damp fabric of your thong. The size of his hands, as well as his strength, made your legs begin to spread apart. You couldn’t help but glance around the room, feeling all eyes were on the two of you. Suddenly the hand that pressed against your face, its grip tightened, a gasp leaving your mouth as you suddenly faced him again. The sudden hard stare caused you to squirm, your eyes darting about. 
“Look at me, don’t look at anyone else… just focus on me,” he commanded, before releasing his grip on your face.
Before you could even think, his hand flew down to your hips, lifting you up and placing you right onto his lap. The first thing you felt was his erection, pressing against your barely covered pussy. His legs spread wide as well, easily taking up the space upon the seats you were sitting on. The people around you all easily made space, but you could tell that they were all watching, their eyes felt like lasers burning holes into your psyche. Yet, all you could do was focus on Reiner before. Your heart was racing, and you felt heat flushing throughout your entire body,  from his actions to the people staring down at you. 
“Reiner–” you stared before you were cut off by him suddenly pushing you forward, your lips landing on his. 
He tasted like scotch, with an aftertaste of smoky cigars. Despite your known aversion to anything tobacco, you found yourself deepening the kiss. Your hips began to grind against him, hoping to find that perfect rhythm. Underneath your dress, your clit throbbed again the thin fabric of your thong, your pussy throbbing with every movement you made. Reiner’s hands slide down your back, before cupping themselves underneath your butt, underneath that the fabric begins to rise up and crumble up around your hips. You could feel the air hitting in between your legs and the deep feeling that your thong was on display for those around you to see. 
Spit began to drip down from your lips, evidence of your intense makeout. Slowly, you pulled your lips back, your lungs immediately inflating with air. Reiner’s hands began to massage, almost kneading the flesh he clung onto. By this, your thong was soaked, and the area around his erection was slightly damp with your juices. His finger thumbed at the thin strap of fabric, pulling it as far back as he could before letting it go. The loud snap stung against your skin, your back arching into the pain, eliciting a slightly painful yelp as your pussy clenched around nothing. 
“Reiner!” you shrieked, your hands and nails gripping his back and shoulders, digging into his clothing. 
You could feel him smirk against your skin before his fingers lifted up your thong strap before popping against your skin once more. Every throb of pain had you clenching around nothing, soaking your thong and his pants even more. By now, your dress had ridden up to your waist, so everyone was able to see just what he was doing to you. No one said anything, they only watched as he grabbed at your thong, beginning to pull the thin fabric down your legs. Your nerves wreaked havoc on your hands, seeing how they trembled as you began to slide them down from behind his neck to his chest. You lifted your legs a little bit, helping him get your thong off. 
He held them in front of you, shaking them like a cat toy with a sneer on his face, and an evil grin. You tried to reach out and grab for them but he pulled them back, a chuckle leaving his mouth as he laughed at the way you lunged at him. Reiner pocketed them, before putting his hands right back on your butt, like they belong there. You gasped as his fingers teased along the opening of your cunt. He leaned over, his heavy voice echoing in your ear as he spoke to you once more.
“Second thoughts, sweetness?” he asked you. 
Despite your sudden fear, you shook your head, your hands suddenly gripping the fabric of his suit. 
“Good,” he smirked, “because I’d hate to not be able to give all these people a nice show.”
That was the last thing he said before suddenly lifting you up, letting go of his cock. You squealed as he suddenly turned you around, fully facing the audience you had amassed. Your heart almost dropped, you could barely even see the back parts of the room, with the way the crowd had amassed itself. You hadn’t relaxed just how many people were watching you. Their eyes never left you, you could see their hungry eyes taking in the scene before them. Your dripping pussy, Reiner’s cock, the way you whined and grinding into him, everything. You couldn’t help the way tears welled into your eyes, but at the same time, a forceful tingling heat wracked through you. The humiliation you felt rocked you, yet all it could do was make your pussy even wetter. Their eyes were magnets, sticking to your every reaction. 
He stretched your legs wide, the sticky sound of your pussy easily bringing in more of the crowd. Hips fingers, continuing to tease you, dipping down into your hole, smearing some of your juices at your clit. He spread your lips even further, having no problem to let all these people watching you get fucked. You let out a sharp gasp as you felt his thick finger beginning to prod at your hole, your juices dripping down onto him. Melting as he further plunged his finger into you, hissing at how tight you were. Your eyes glued to his hands, only able to watch the way he slowly began to ravish you, bit by bit. You bit your lip, restraining your budding moans as his finger slid deeper into you. 
“Reiner—“ you choked, your head thrown back as his thumb pressed up against your wet clit. 
Your hips ground against his hands, clenching around his fingers. Rocking against him, succumbing to the way he pulled different reactions from your body and your lips. Your moans echoed through the room, and you could hear the muffled grunting of some of the men watching you. You could hear their whispers, wondering who you were. You could hear the jealousy on some of the women’s lips, complaining about how someone as unknown as you could gain Reiner’s attention. Writhing underneath his hold, you couldn’t help the way their animosity elated you. You cried out as you felt his fingers brush up against your g-spot, your back arching away from his front side. 
“Fuck— I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum—“ your words were high pitched, feeling the sudden building ache rushing through you. 
Suddenly, you were left out cold as you felt his fingers abruptly pull out of your cunt. You had no time to whine or complain as a gasp left your mouth and your body jerked suddenly, feeling Reiner beginning to stand up behind you. His hands slide down to underneath your knees, further spreading your pussy open. You crossed your arms, heart racing as you felt his angry red tip prodding at your entrance. For a moment, you glanced up, and standing behind a couple people, you could see familiar olive green eyes, with his tan hand tucked in his pocket, holding a glass of liquor. 
Before you could fully register the sight, your body convulsed as you felt the tip of his cock easing into your sopping wet cunt. There was no need for foreplay, with the way you had been dripping all over Reiner from the moment he placed you on his lap. 
“Oh my– oh my god,” you whined out, your head thrown back as he pressed his dick into your further, hearing him grunt as you felt yourself slowly stretch around him.  
“Big—“ you cried out, “its too big, fuck, I can’t—!” 
“Aww," he suddenly interjected, “can’t what? Can’t handle it?” His voice was deep and laced with condescension. 
Your body trembled at his words, and despite the humiliation, hearing the slight chuckle in the crowd, your pussy clenched around, sucking him in even further. Toes curled, you could do nothing while stuck in his hold but take it, desperate moans fleeing your mouth. You could feel his hot breath against your neck,, his own deep-seated, needful groans echoing in your ears. Although your eyes were shut you could still hear the makings of the crowd around, still watching you take every inch of him. 
Suddenly, one of his hands left your leg, before sliding across your neck and face. It wrapped itself around the front of your neck, before pulling it and your head back. His face towered over your own, and your eyes were almost jerked open. His thumb was able to reach your wet, plump lips, pulling the bottom one down slightly. 
“Open.”
It was a single command, one you fulfilled lustily, your lips parting and your tongue falling out. With nothing else, he inhaled sharply before a decently-sized globble of saliva dripped down from his mouth onto your own. Most would find the action distasteful, but not you. Your body completely wrecked with lust, could do nothing, squeeze your eyes shut, a large moan leaving your lips as his spit slid down your tongue in your throat. You melted in his hold, your juices soaking your dress, thighs, Reiner’s pants, and even a little bit of his shirt. 
Reiner ravished you, and the feeling of his cock pummeling you continued to push you more and more over the edge. Your entire body jerks, the feeling of your climax building up within you once more. His heavy pants and the heated smell of sex permeated off of both of your bodies, but it was the quieted, hissed sound of a few people watching, trying their best to stay quiet as they reached their own climax. 
“Coming!” Your words were loud but slurred from succumbing to your incoming orgasm. 
With your toes curling, your body thrashed within his hold as your cunt squeezed around his dick. Your body melted further into him as your juices poured out of you, your pussy throbbing. Your hands reached out, clutching onto the air as shaky gasps escaped from your mouth. Underneath you, you could feel Reiner’s actions becoming more erratic, his groans following along with him. With no other warning but a groan, you gasped as he came all inside of you, his cum painting your walls white. Tears streaks stained your face as you heaved in and out. Slowly, you felt Reiner slowly putting your legs down, still keeping you close to his body. You winced at the way your legs felt, seeing how they were stretched beyond their means. The crowd slowly began to dissipate as they realized you and Reiner’s bout with lust was basically over. Some still stayed, keeping their eyes on the two of you as you tried your best to clean yourself up. 
You gasped as you felt him slowly pull his cock out of you, a cool emptiness filling you. With whatever strength you could pull, you grabbed the hem of your dress, covering the mess the two of you made. You could feel both his and your cum dripping down your thighs, ignoring the way it trailed down your smooth legs. As you sat beside Reiner, waiting for him to get situated, you felt a wave of tiredness rush over you. You stretched, letting out a yawn. With no other warning, Reiner suddenly stood up, taking you into his arms. You could not fight him off as he held you tight. Through your teary and droopy eyes, you could see the crowd parted for the two of you. He walked deeper and deeper until the smoke and darkness fully covered the two of you. Your body had no strength as your body went limp, falling into a deep slumber.
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whiskeyskin · 7 days
Text
Goddesses and Mortals
Premise: After the events of Love and Longing, Gale finds out that his feelings are reciprocated.. and that's not all.. 😳🍑🫵
Accidental sequel to a previous fic cause I can't get this lonely Wizard out of my head without the promise of a potentially happy ending 🥹 in more ways than one 😏🍆
Gale x gn!tav • 18+ • E/M rating • MDNI
Gale POV, reader referred to as 'you', no specific mention of gentials or gender, porn with plot?, Mystra can fuck right off, fantasies becoming reality, longing, love, tenderness, mutual masturbation, anal fingering (M receiving), unabashed consent, mild cum swapping, minor sub/dom energy, marking if you squint
5.3k words
Special thanks to @senualothbrok for nestling this tadpole in my brain for Gale to get the real deal one day.. 💜
And at it again @spellbooking with another beautiful gif of our Rizzard ☺️ Thank you! 💜
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Gale was close, very close.
He had to hurry, the party would all be rising from camp soon. Though there was no sunlight in this desolate place, a full rest was almost upon him.
Safely secluded in the abandoned house on the far reaches of camp; sweat damp on his brow, his hand slick with salvia, Gale feverishly pumped his length in quick bursts.
Your illusion image looked up at him through lidded eyes licking your bottom lip hungrily and growling a hedonistic moan.
"Gale.." you whimpered, the voice distorted.
"Yes, love.. I'm going to come for you.. only for you.. come with me." He bit out, on the precipice of orgasm.
Suddenly, a faint lilting of rosewater assailed his nose and stopped him dead.
A cold dread filled his body, incapacitating his lungs.
Mystra.
It couldn't be.
Surely not.
Not here.
Not now.
Why right now for hell's sake?
He'd not felt her presence since she'd tried to wedge herself between you both when you'd shared a moment of magic in camp.
Despite their separation, she still checked in on her disgraced former chosen and lover at the most inopportune moments.
Fumbling, he quickly tucked himself away in his waistband and spun on his heel.
Nothing.. but the scent remained.
Had she finally gotten sick of his abusing himself constantly to the fictitious likeness of you, using her magical essence to do so?
Had she been sensing him masturbating at least twice a day since her intervention charm through Elminster?
Was she making herself known to quell his incessant self-gratification, or to participate in it?
Even a tenday ago, that would have been a comforting thought. One he would have relished in, taken solace and pride in.. but this felt wrong.
His sweet nothings he had whispered in the dead of night to "you" weren't for Mystra's perverse enjoyment, or sick amusement, weren't for her for to cast judgement on.
"I don't know why you're here," he called brazenly, "but I assure you, this is nothing that concerns you any longer. Now, if you'd be so kind, leave me in peace." He requested, firmly.
Silence.
He wasn't convinced.
"And I don't appreciate the timing of you little assertion here. Now that I'm finally on a path of some kind of healing, you make yourself known?" He snapped, pointing a finger at nothing.
"You have no reason to be here. You have already spoken your will and want with my life and until such a time that that moment arrives, I will do what I want, with whomever I want. Be they real, or fantasy is no concern of yours. Now, leave." He frowned and gestured finally.
The warmth in the air he didn't realise had been present disparated. He was left cold.
Just like always with her.
"Gale?" Called your voice, your vision now by the doorway.
He looked up to see you leaning on the doorframe, slightly bleary.
"Sorry, my love. I got distracted. Less said about that, the better. Now," he beckoned a crooked finger towards himself, "let's get back to where we were before everyone wakes up."
You frowned and looked him up and down, "Did you just call me, 'my love'?" You asked.
For the second time that early morning, Gale's blood ran cold.
"And what exactly were we doing before?" You irked a brow, looking amused.
Gale struggled for words as the blood that had been swiftly journeying to the south was urgently redirected north.
"I-uh-I did? Must've been a mistake. What are you doing up so early?" He asked, trying to change the subject.
You squinted, "Who were you talking to?"
"No one." Gale answered, feigning innocence.
"Wow, that was convincing." You teased with mockingly wide eyes. You narrowed your eyes at him and he felt a gentle brush against his mind. You were seeking permission. He allowed it.
"Mystra?" You asked with a tense lilt. Gale nodded.
"Thought so, I heard you calling that you were trying to move on and someone was suddenly trying to get your attention again. Is everything alright?" You asked, your tone worried and sincere.
Gale's heart bloomed.
"Yes, since her missive from Elminster, she's reached out. I don't have time for it."
"That's a massive step for you, Gale. You said something about moving on, is that true?"
"Somewhat." He answered in a half truth.
You smiled, "Is she still here?" There was a pause, Gale could see the cogs turning, "Did you want to make her jealous? Is that why you called me 'my love'?"
Gale blinked twice.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, maybe you snuck up here to be with me. Maybe I'm the one you're moving on with."
Again, Gale blinked twice.
How unintentionally right you were.
He swallowed.
"Would that be something you're interested in helping me with?"
"To fuck with the gods? Anything." You purred the last word down the connection at him and it made the hairs on his neck raise like you'd whispered it directly against his skin.
"Then by all means, take the lead."
You irked a seductive brow and turned down your head to gaze through lidded eyes.
He swallowed.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to stare. You're just so gods damned handsome. I'm glad we could sneak away again." You walked towards him confidently, a slight prowl in your gait.
Gale's blood supply had ignored previous instruction and fully marched back south. The sight of you - truly you - saying these things to him had him dizzy from the rush of blood.
"Not to worry, I quite enjoying being gawped at."
"Well, it's certainly no hardship." You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in for a sensual hug, while he desperately tried to keep his erection from your notice.
"Mm, we have to be quick. We don't have much time until the others wake up." You crooned, wrapping your arms around his neck, "Did the minor illusion keep you warm enough while I was gone?"
And for the third time that morning, Gale's body shot full of ice.
His blood entirely confused, threw it's hands up in defeat for direction.
You knew?
How could you know?
He was careful.. wasn't he?
Your hands never stopped roaming; his arms, his shoulders, his neck.. his hair.. oh gods, up into his hair.
Gale's breath hitched and shuddered.
Oh gods, you felt like heaven. Even if he felt like he was in hell.
"I know you like me to watch you but I've been so neglectful lately with everything that's been going on. Can you forgive me?" You pulled back from him, your face pulled into a beautifully twisted smile, sin pulled at the edges.
"I th-think you can make it up to me." He gasped.
Your eyebrows flexed in amusement up your forehead, "Do you want me to watch you right now? With everyone waiting in camp, drinking tea and preparing breakfast?"
You smoothed your hands from his shoulders to the top of his chest, "Do you like the anticipation of being caught, Gale? The rush of being found?"
Oh gods, you were so close. You smelled so good, like lemongrass and lavender.. and underneath the balms, your musk, your scent. You.
"I would do anything, as long as it was with you, my love." He breathed, unable to contain the emotion in his voice.
Your eyes unfocused for a brief moment, then came back, blinking as though seeing through an unfogged mirror.
A soft gasp caught in the back of your throat; that noise could state him for a thousand nights.
Then you stepped away.
You averted your gaze, and backed away from his arms completely. You shut your eyes tightly.
"Gale, I-"
You opened them, a wealth of feelings swirling but he couldn't decipher any of them.
"I need to get back to camp. We need to get to Moonrise Towers today, with Isobel's blessing we can cross the Shadows. We need to be ready." You nodded curtly and disappeared.
Gale stared after you, the cold air of the Shadowlands around him a cruel but poetic pathetic fallacy.
He groaned and closed his eyes against balled fists, as he pressed them against his eyes. Tears brimmed behind them, hot frustrated tears.
"Gods fucking dammit."
***
Gale had attempted to maintain distance today, which had been difficult considering you'd partied up together with Karlach and Shadowheart.
Karlach had tried to question his glum mood, but he'd simply recused it as nerves of their close proximity to the potential Heart of the Absolute.
"Ah, Gale. If there's anyone who knows how shit it is to have a ticking time bomb in their chest, it's me. Come and speak to me sometime mate, yeah? We can talk about it."
"Karlach, you're truly a soul that steels my own. I may just take you up on that."
A firm nod and a beaming smile from Karlach ended the conversation as they entered this Balthazar's chamber, after which none of them really had the stomach for food that night.
Wyll had stepped up and made a hearty bowl of vegetable and meat stew. It was nothing on his own cooking, of course but it was a valiant attempt.
Needed a little more pepper.
You sat nursing your bowl, generally making conversation around the fire. Halsin had joined you back from Last Light with no new news of the catatonic lost soul, apart from that he kept singing. A lute of significance to him had been added to your list of items to retrieve; an ever growing list.
Gale swallowed a mouthful and risked a glance towards you, your eyes met for a brief moment before you looked away, uncomfortable. His heart sank.
He'd truly ruined any chance of friendship after his desperate behaviour this morning. You'd barely spoken two words together all day, and now you wouldn't look him in the eye.
He excused himself for an early night and retreated to his tent. He lit his candles and pulled out one of the many books he'd picked up along today's excursions around Moonrise, hoping that one of them would point them towards the heart.
***
The noise around the campfire grew weary as he poured over his readings. Various 'goodnights' alerted him to the potentially late hour.
Gale sighed and rubbed his eyes, he conjured a bookmark, closed it and drained his glass of wine.
Now that he'd been pulled from his focus, he realised how tired he was. Physically drained from a gruelling day of emotional turbulence.
Rosewater gently lilted under his nose, he snorted it back out.
"Oh for the love of-! Bugger off!" He spat through a whisper.
"I'm sorry." Came your voice from behind him.
He spun around on his knees to see you hastily trying to leave his tent.
"No!" Called a little too loudly, reaching out across the space, "Not you. I didn't mean you."
You stopped, looking back at him for the first time since the morning. The soft glow of the candles illuminating your wonderful face, his heart squeezed uncomfortably.
"I assume she's back again, then?" You asked through terse lips, glancing around the low lit interior of his tent.
"Where rosewater is, Mystra's sure to follow. What can I do for you?" Gale asked, shaking off the lingering of his former lover.
"I-," you started, wringing your hands, "I wanted to apologise for this morning."
Gale blinked.
You wanted to apologise?
"What for?" He questioned his tone incredulous.
"For it all. I embarrassed you, I embarrassed myself.. I acted poorly. I thought it would be a good way to show that I knew what you'd been doing-with the minor illusions." Gale's eyes widened. He'd been attempting to solve that one today.
"H-How did you find out?"
"I'd cast Detect Thoughts on Jaheria when we met her at the Inn, and it lasts all day. I heard you when I was laying down to rest. All the things you wanted to do." You swallowed thickly, and a jolt of excitement shot it's way through his cock to his brain.
That was two nights ago.
He'd fantasized about gourging on your sex as you mounted his face, fucking yourself with his mouth as you leaned back with one hand to stroke him. He'd made a mess of his walls, as well as himself.
"You've got a pretty interesting imagination, Gale. Especially since we seem to be ethereal galaxy people in your head." You smiled, folding your arms across yourself, "The one from last night was pretty hot too." You bit your bottom lip to contain more, and swallowed.
He remembered that vividly.
He'd fantasised about spooning you, fucking into you and playing with you from behind. The mirror image had gasped and moaned for him, breathed his name over and over again, as he came to the thought of pleasing you enough to milk his cum inside your clenching walls.
"I thought it was just sex, that maybe we could get rid of some nervous energy together but then this morning.. the way you-you looked at me.." you trailed off, Gale's heart hammered against his chest.
You rest your splayed hands across your heart, "I was foolish. You're not the kind to just sleep around. To have casual sex and not think of it again."
"Like Astarion?" He quipped before vetting the venomous comment.
You tightened your lip, "Kind of." You answered, with a tone that felt loaded with more secretive information but he didn't want to pry.
Well, he did.
But not right now.
"I could be." He postured, looking up at you.
You let out a short laugh, "That face this morning is not the face of someone who can just have sex and not want more."
He hardened his face, "It could be.. if you wanted to be.." Gale irked a brow, feigning a casual air.
"Oh, yeah?" You goaded, leaning on one hip and folding your arms again.
"Absolutely. We could have sex right now and I wouldn't bat an eyelid." He lied, pushing his lips down into a grimace, while his cheeks flushed and his heart pounded against his sternum.
"Really?" You questioned, looking dubious.
"Unquestionably." Gale punctuated with a flick of his fingers, relaxing into his position on the floor, widening his knees to sit back on his heels in an attempt at nonchalance.
"So, you fantasising about kissing my neck, my chest, stomach and hips and calling me "my love" means nothing." You stated, using air quotations.
"Certainly not. Mere sweet talk." Gale shook his head, shrugging his shoulders, while sweat gathered on his forehead.
You kicked off your hip and confidently strolled towards the short distance to him. His mouth instantly dried to dangerous levels of dehydration, as he tried to keep composure.
"And imagining your cock in my mouth, telling me how much you adore me, that isn't telling at all?" You sneered a lip through a smirk and shrugged one shoulder.
"Demonstrably." He tried to remain calm but every cell in his body was panicking, "Do you see me reacting?" He willed himself through words not to show a care.
Your tongue broke through your smirk to rub against your top teeth and his felt it between his legs, he jerked unconsciously.
"You're glowing." You drawled, dipping your eyes to his chest, "Do you even realise your orb lights up when you're horny?"
Gale's painfully stony face dropped as he quickly darted his vision to his chest.
You were indeed correct.
Through his camp clothes, a faint purple hue eminated through the fabric. Gale shot his had to cover his blatant display of arousal. He gave a sharp exhale through his nose and closed his eyes in utter embarrassment.
"This tent has been a purple colour show since Crèche Y'llek." You teased, the sound of your voice curved around a grin.
Gale's chest hollowed.
Gods dammit.
Mystra dammit.
"Oh and also this.." Suddenly he felt something graze along the length of his concealed erection - what he thought was a his concealed erection.
He let out he whining gasp, his hand slapping against worn leather, and he opened his eyes.
You'd rubbed the top of your boot under and against him in his kneeled position, gliding his sensitive member with the leather of your shoe. You continued the rhythm, the gentle friction was delicious, he gasped open mouthed.
Oh gods, it was real.
You were real.
It wasn't a cruel trick, or a fantasy.
It was you.
Gale reached up to grasp the crook of your knee, you held your gaze steadfast against his own. He began to pull off your boot, your eyes never faultered from his as it was flung to the back of the tent.
Your foot resting on his thigh, his hand still holding the meat of your strong calf.
You took his prickly chin within your fingers, eyes usure.
"If this going to happen, it's just sex. Nothing more." You stated, in a low tone.
Gale nodded, trembling from anticipation.
"I mean it. If you're on a path to self-destruction in the name of a Goddess, I'm not wasting my time with feelings." Your voice caught and anger flashed across your features but tears hinted in your eyes.
You slid your foot off his thigh and slowly descended to crouch in front of him, taking his face fully in your hands. Their warmth slid into the deepest recesses of his lonely soul.
"I care about you, Gale. You're worth far more than what she's asked you to do. Far more."
He poured over your face, so close to him. Emotions that he had denied himself bubbling to the surface; the longing, the loneliness.. the fear.
You ran a thumb to dry a tear he hadn't realise had fallen.
"Say something." You whispered, your gaze flitting between his eyes and his lips.
Oh gods.
This was to truly happen?
He'd kiss your beautiful, soft lips?
His breathing was unsteady, the anticipation coiled dangerously around every facet of his musculature.
Gale opened his mouth to speak, to utter sweet poetry regaling your beauty, your passion, your wit and wisdom but the words would not form, they were stunted on his paralysed tongue.
You were so close.
He could feel the heat from your body, he could see the wisps of your hair moving with his unsteady breath.
You came closer and pressed your lips between his brows, electric tingling his skin in your wake. His eyes lolled shut as he finally brought his hands to hold you to him, press you to him, to feel you finally.
He slid his hands below the seam of your shirt, to feel your smooth and scarred skin, fire grazing his fingertips at the contact.
"I-.. I care for you deeply. I cannot deny this." He began breathlesly, your forehead's connected, your bodies melting together. You sank further into the embrace, widening your legs to fully welcome him between your thighs.
The image of that first night he touched himself to thoughts of you, bloomed across his mind and he bit his lip.
"Neither can I." You agreed, the sound of your voice low and raspy, "It scares me, Gale. It scares the shit into me," you leaned back, holding on to the back of his neck, slowly leading you both down to the carpeted rugs below his bedroll, "Show me. Show me I'm not wrong to feel this way. Show me I'm not alone in this."
Gale shook in head, almost trance-like, "You're not alone-not alone.. I'm with you." He followed you down, desperate not to lose a second's touch with you.
"And I'm with you, I'm not letting you go." You spoke the words against his mouth, it made his mind numb.
"No, never. Never leave me." He mumbled, as you both situated yourselves on the floor. Words bubbled and frothed out of his mouth before he could stop them, "I've been so utterly alone for so long, cut off from everyone I knew and cared for.. and I'm terrified, I'm filled with dread each day. I don't want to die-I want to stay.. stay here." He mewled through the overwhelming emotion in his throat. You increased the intensity of your touch against your brows.
"Shh, none of that matters now. It doesn't exist. For now.. it's just us.. you and me.." you whispered against his skin, he felt it shiver down every vertebrae.
"You and me." He repeated, comforted by the softness in your voice.
Suddenly, your hand grasped his naked cock. He yelped in pleasure, but was hushed by the passionate meeting of your mouth. You captured his cries, claiming them as your own.
His fingers bunched your shirt, his knuckles white, as your tongue swept in to merge with his.
Oh gods.
You tasted like wine, and oranges, and sex.
He'd imagined your taste, your scent.. but this.. the full force of you was so much more intense that he could have expected.
You fingered his leaking slit and he jerked at the sensation, causing you both to make involuntary, open-mouthed moans.
You increased in fervour at his reaction, a desperate whine eeking from his body.
It was too much but not enough. He wanted more, more of you, more of this. He wanted the world to fall away and to be consumed by only you.
Like you said; "Just you and me."
Even though it would be grammatically correct to say 'You and I'.
Your hand wrapped around the length of him, pumping the head of his penis in short, lanquid bursts.. and suddenly the correctness on ones grammar seemed worlds away.
Gale shuddered and knelt over your body, settling himself between your gorgeous thighs, pressing down against your sex, enough to make you gasp.
You shared a wicked grin together before he cradled you to him, desperately kissing and mating your tongues. His hips unconsciously twitching against the friction of your hand.
"Gods, Gale. I want you." You keened against his lips, puffs of air escaping aggressively from your lungs, as his hips drove against you.
"Yesyesyesyesyes.." he chorused, messily thrusting against your palm, "Want this. Want you. For a long while.. even before.."
"Did you fantasize about all the positions we could fuck in?"
A sharp feeling settled low in his gut and he squeezed his eyes shut to close out a threatening, pre-emptive climax.
"Yes, wanted you.. badly." He added, barely able to speak.
"I know, I saw. Sweating and willing underneath you?"
"Yess.." he hissed.
"Slipping a finger inside me, then another, preparing me to take you?"
Another deliciously painful pang shuddered inside him.
"Stretching my tight hole for you, till I'm begging you to fuck me hard and unrelenting?" You growled against his lips.
Gale tensed his jaw to mute a groan from his chest, as your words gripped the back of his head.
Oh dear fucking gods.
You were very, very good at this.
"I especially liked where I got to play with you. Those moans at the back of your throat when you'd think of me on top, or taking charge.. I had trouble concentrating yesterday because I couldn't stop replaying those sounds."
He heard you whisper an incantation, that his lust-filled brain slowly realised was Mage hand, the moment before he felt the cold sensation working his undergarments completely free, pushing them down passed his knees.
"There was one particular part you seemed to be interested in exploring together." You purred against his temple, as you twisted your grip around his plump, weeping member.
The Mage hand palmed at the cleft of his ass and lazily dragged it's fingers up his perennium, sliding towards his..
"Oh gods." Gale whimpered, biting down on his lip hard, "Mm-Mhm." He panted in abandon.
He gasped, throwing his head back and loosening his tight hips to tilt them upwards in wanton display.
He bucked and jerked against the feeling of you pleasuring him, needing more of both.
He'd experimented with himself in this matter in his youth and in his newfound sexual freedom after his year of self imposed celibacy but never with another.
You groaned and rutted your hips against him.
"You look so beautiful like this, I can see you in the mirror behind you. You look spectacular, spreading yourself for me." You crooned, praising him and licking your bottom lip. You looked beyond him to what he assumed was his mirror.
Oh gods.
You were going to watch him like this.
Like he'd imagined.
Exposed.
Hedonistic.
Depraved.
The thought waved over his brain and made him dizzy, the desire swelled low in his belly.
"You're so willing and receptive, Gale. Do you want me to slide these fingers inside you? To pleasure you completely until you can't comprehend your own name?" You asked salaciously, assuring consent before blindly continuing. He raised his hips higher for better access as wordless agreement.
The mage hand ran a soaked finger across his puckering hole but ventured no further without express permission.
His whole body trembled, desire coarsing through his veins, soaking into every orifice.
"Yes.. yes.. fuck. I need it. Please.. please.." he wailed through staggered breath.
"Look at me." You instructed softly, halting your motions of abject pleasure.
With great difficulty, Gale did as he was told. He about exploded with joy with the sight of you.
He'd imagined you, summoned your likeness but nothing could ever compare to this.
The aura of his orb bathed you in a magical amethyst glow; the adoration shining in your eyes, the seductive curve of your lip, the sweat flattening your hair to your temples.
"So handsome.. so beautiful. Look at you, look at how you light up for me.." you smiled, guilding him with compliments as you raise a hand to touch the angry purple mark on his chest, now emblazoned with Mystra's star. "This does not define you. You are not the orb. You are not Mystra's chosen. You are Gale and you chose your own path. You are, and will always be, enough.."
Soft tears fell from his eyes from the intensity of his emotional response to your words and the physical stimuli of the hand gently testing his entrance.
You gently kissed the apples of his wet cheeks, then looked up at him with a darkened expression.
"Arch your back for me, sweetheart."
Gale instantly buried his face against your neck, lifting his exposed self for you.
"Good.." you cooed, beginning a slow pace to pump his cock again.
"Ohh, gods." His whined against your skin, his limit already close.
"Relax.." you whispered, kissing his temple, "Relax for me, darling. Take a deep breath, and let it out. Keep breathing."
Gale did as he was told. With each expell of air he loosened the muscles surrounding his asshole. The need growing to dizzying heights.
Pressure pushed against his rim as the finger glided halfway, he gasped and clenched unconsciously.
"Breathe, Gale." You soothed, pressing soft kisses to his face, "You're handling this so well."
Further and further you pushed inside him, delicious sensation flooding his body. His body tense and limp simultaneously, as the pleasure radiated through him from his pulsating walls.
"Fuck." He barely managed.
He kissed your neck and sucked down on the bite marks left by Astarion. He would make his own mark on you. One that everyone would see.
You gasped, your breath catching as you rolled your hips against him, teeth lightly nipping at his ear lobe.
Gale felt the friction of your other hand reaching down between you to stimulate your own release. His urge re-doubled in it's efforts to push him higher, intoxicated by your arousal.
He could feel your desperate movements between you, lightly grazing his testicles with the back of your hand.
You surprised him by gently pinching the head of him and thumbing the slit before initiating an unyielding, rapid rhythm wrapped around his cock. Synchronizing with curling the Mage hand towards his stomach, rubbing over the knot of his prostate.
A ragged, strained noise escaped from his throat as the sensations joined, assailing him from both sides.
He pushed back against the Mage hand, taking it's digit to the hilt.
"Oh yes, that's it. Enjoy it. It's for you.. all for you." You chorused his words to you, the words he used every night to pray to your false altar.
But now he had you, truly had you.. and you were spectacular.. you could not be formed into words.. you transcendend this mortal plane.. you were.. more than Godly.. you were-
A second finger penetrated him without refute and stretched his hole, doubling the pleasure against his sweet spot inside his ass, and he cried out in sheer bliss. Your hand wrapped around his cock, pumping in jubilant rhythm combined with the thrusting of the spell deep inside him.
The precipice of orgasm gripped him like a vice and choked him of all other need, apart from that to cum.
In that moment of blessed eternity, the world was narrowed down to nothing more than you and him. A vaccum in existence bathed in magical light.
Rapture split through every atom of his existence, building and climbing in a torrent of unstable energy.
"Yes, Gale-yes-come. Come with me."
His mouth open, panting like a rabid dog, he lost himself entirely.
He roared and strained and gasped, as he shot thick ropes all over your torso. His asshole squeezed and clenched tightly on the digits deliciously stuffed inside him working his orgasm longer. Your skilled hand milking every last drop from him.
He gulped for breath as you cried out underneath him, jerking against your own hand, breathless and exhilarated.
He watched you come undone underneath him, eyes screwed, mouth gaping, then biting down to quieten your moans.
Dear gods, you looked exquisite.
He reached a hand between you both to feel the after effects of your rhapsody, you twitched and laughed through a smile, as he cupped your sex in the wake of orgasm, riding you longer like you were to him.
"Stopstopstop-too much." You barely gasped against his sweat laden forehead.
There you lay, for what seemed like an easy age, together.
Aftershocks struck you both as you lay together in your joined euphoria.
The Mage hand had disappeared and left him feeling pleasantly sore from the hectic pace.
Gale pushed himself up onto his forearm, extracating his hand from between you. It was covered in your cum, it glistened on his hand.
It was one of the most erotic things he'd ever seen. Something he hadn't fantasied.
He glanced back to you, you also held up your hand drenched in him.
You opened your mouth, clearing indicating to feast on yourself from his fingers. His tender cock twitched with desire.
He reciprocated his mouth and you swept your digits in his mouth. He tasted himself, licking his semen clean, as you suckled your own essence from his fingers, then pulled him in for a deep kiss.
Gale moaned at the melding of you both on mating tongues. It was pure sex and exhilaration. The desire and need. The fullfilment and warmth.
The kiss broke and you smiled at him, letting out a large breath.
"That was.." You started.
"Incredible." He finished.
"That's one of many words." You mused, laughing breathlessly.
Gale pushed himself up higher, "Oh, gods." He snorted, looking down at the scene of debauchery before him and kneeled onto his heels.
You and he were both covered in cum. It was obscene how licentiously delicious you looked painted with each other.
He remembered the first time he'd cum to your image, how hollow and alone he'd felt.
But not this time.
This time he felt complete.
Like a piece of him had hurried it's way back to him after so long apart.
"Well, that's one way to let off some steam." He chuckled darkly.
"I think it's hot." You smirked, biting down on your lower lip.
Gale swallowed with difficulty, "Careful you, that's dangerous."
Gale heaved out a breath and came to grips with what had just transpired between you both. How little his imagination had been able to conceive of you. What paltry figments had been the stars of his fantasies.
He glanced down upon you; hair mussed, sweat drying on your skin, clothes rumpled and he couldn't have loved you more.
"What?" He asked in a quiet voice.
Gale shook his head, "Nothing." He feigned.
He waved his hand with a simple somantic and the evidence was gone.
"Then come down here, I'm getting cold." You stroked your hands up his arms and enveloped him into an embrace that warmed all the lost parts of his soul.
"I meant it, Gale. I won't let you destory yourself for this. We'll find another way." You nestled yourself deeper into the hug.
Gale smiled contentedly from ear to ear, "I know we will.. because now I have something to live for."
°•°•
166 notes · View notes
hunnylagoon · 2 months
Text
Candy
PT1: Sober to Death
Ellie Williams x Reader
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I’m home and here to stay like a ghost to haunt. You can’t shake me off your back for I linger in your head like carelessly uttered curse. Summer falls to ashes in my mouth and so I will spit them into your urn, just like that all of my devotion turns violent.
Premise: After a mental break you are being held together by nothing but glitter glue and craft yarn. You seek refuge with an old friend in a coastal town to live the life you thought you left behind.
Warnings: SENSITIVE THEMES / reader is a recovered addict / mentions of drug and alcohol abuse / angst / brief mentions of violence / possibly triggering discussions of drug addiction
Read at your own discretion
Inside me, something seethes. Inside me, some feral animal has been forced into a cage where it thrashes and screams. Perhaps I will turn into a snarling wolf and rip out the throats of each girl who made me go home crying in middle school. Maybe I will don the pelt of a sheep and surprise all of those who convinced me it was a good idea to try ketamine when I shed my cloak and reveal my long curled claws and fangs sharp as knives.
I'm heartless at worst and helpless at best.
I don't know how else to be. I was raised like a stick of dynamite lit from both ends and I can describe in detail how the earth warps beneath my feet or how I watch the sky bend until it snaps and collapses onto a body too tired to lift it back up.
Everything miles ahead of what I was, to them, I was only ever an addict. Cursed with the nickname 'popper' since tenth grade and everyone thought it to be nothing more than a joke they didn't know how I found serenity in the tablet of acid that rested on my tongue. 
It started with pot and drinking on the weekends then flew into full-blown benders when I swallowed back synthetic sunshine like it was candy. None of my friends thought I would end up with my back plastered on my dorm floor, eyes wide with what once was a bottle of pills frothing out of my mouth. 
It took me two overdoses to get here, had to put my white blood cells to work.
"I didn't think you'd be up this early," Joel smiled at me, he was nursing a mug of coffee, a plate in front of him with a half-eaten piece of toast and a golden yoke running onto the porcelain. That might've been my favourite thing about the farm, fresh eggs. Once you have them you can never go back to the sad pale grocery store eggs.
"That makes two of us," I pulled out a chair from the wooden dining table and sat down. Joel had put so much love into this home. These days I’m too nauseous to eat breakfast.
"Ellie doesn't even wake up this early," He took a slug of his black coffee, the scent was strong, filling up the entire house, I could smell it the second I woke up. "How's the room? Is everything to your liking?"
I had felt so guilty for free-loading off Joel whom I hadn't seen since I was twelve, it had been eight years. He sent me cards on my birthday every year but I never was able to grasp how close our parents had been. I'm pretty sure I was friends with Ellie when I was little, there were pictures of the two of us hugging each other and playing beneath sprinklers, my front teeth missing, Ellie covered head to toe in Spider-Man band-aids. I didn't have any recollection of us when we were close, as we got older we got more stiff around each other. When my family would visit, she would hang out with her friends and I would keep to myself. Of course, my parents moved us to the city where everything hit me too hard all at once. "It's perfect, thank you."
"It's pretty hard to peel yourself off that mattress, huh?" Joel smiled at me, showing me every ounce of warmth he had when I was a child.
I nod in response "So much more comfortable than those stiff dorm mattresses," It almost felt like I was making conversation with a ghost.
"Since you're up so early, care for a tour while I do some chores?" He asked. I had been here a few days already, though I just kept to myself I didn't want to impose on his pleasant life with his daughter who hadn't called him at three am sobbing because she had too many opioids. I had wandered briefly around the farm of course and I had remembered bits and pieces of it from my childhood but I felt so out of place that I mainly locked myself inside of my temporary room and lived through my friend's Instagram stories.
"I'd love to," I smile politely, unsure of what else to do. 
 "Do you think you're gonna go back to school?" Joel asked as he stood up with his plate and mug in hand and began to wash them in the stainless steel sink. "No pressure, there's life outside of a lecture hall."
This was a question I had been thinking about day in and day out. I was a year and then some into getting my degree when my 'fun habits' began spiralling uncontrollably. My parents had managed to snag me a two-year deferral so I could go to rehab and go back to school the following year but I was so full of shame that I shook with the thought of going back. For the first time in my life, I am afraid I have no real desires. 
When I was dead inside a motel bathtub, I thought I needed to be somewhere different but now that I'm there, I need to be someone different too. "I'm not really sure right now, just please don't tell my parents I said that."
"Secrets safe with me," He opens a cabinet and pulls out a bag of cat food, shaking it until a scrawny calico cat appears out of thin air. Pepper happily devours the food Joel puts in her little bowl. I remembered Pepper, she was a kitten way back then and I would cut open socks to make clothes for her. "You should just know that it's never too late."
Very early in my life, it was too late. "Thanks, Joel," Not yet a corpse and still I rot like all of my ambitions turn to sludge at my tired feet.
He looks around, exhaling a deep breath, trying to scope out anything else he has to do in the kitchen. "You outta get geared up, I'm gonna wake up Ellie then me and you can get to work."
I nod in agreement even though I'm not sure what he means by 'gear up' so I figure that's just him saying to put on a hoodie and some rain boots. I stand awkwardly by the door, waiting for Joel. Absentmindedly I rock back and forth on my heels hands clasped together. I'm twenty years old but I feel like I'm twelve again, trying to find a place for myself in someone else's life. 
I thought of the last time I was in this house. I was twelve, unaware of the future that awaited me, I had buried a time capsule with Ellie and her cousins somewhere on this property. Writing to my future self, talking about all of the things I should be. If only she saw the brain-rotten zombie that was her destiny.
My parents had told everyone back home I was backpacking across Australia and taking a break from academics to see the world. In the eyes of those who knew me well and were more than aware of what happened, it was a shame to them that I had wasted a sharp brain and a pretty face. It takes a whole lot of strength the endure myself.
It doesn't take long for Joel to walk back down the creaky stairs, Ellie trailing behind him, sleep in her eyes. She's in boxers and one of Joel's old t-shirts, hair still messy and unbrushed. Ellie yawns and gives me a little wave- it wasn't really a wave, just her raising a hand in my direction as an acknowledgment. 
We hadn't spoken much since I got here, I had met her in the past but we didn't know each other. A lot can change in eight years. She wasn't unfriendly toward me, we indulged in small talk and laughed at each other's jokes but each conversation was so shallow I wanted to lay face down and drown in them. 
Ellie goes straight for the fridge, unlike her dad, she pours milk into a sickly sweet cereal which seems cavity-inducing. She was back from college for the summer, taking advantage of her father's love and food. Joel walked over to where I was standing at the door, slipping into his mucking boots. "While you're both here," He says before looking at me "How much do you know about boats?"
I furrow my eyebrows "A good bit I guess?" I answer, figuring he was just trying to rekindle a spark between Ellie and me that had been put out eight years ago by rain, ocean spray, and vodka.
"Y'know, Els," He gestures towards me "This one used to work at her parent's marina, they tell me she's done a couple of repairs and I bet she could give you some pointers on how to fix up that boat." I'm confused by his words, this is the first I've heard about a boat. Joel can see the uncertainty on my face "Her uncle gave her a piece of shit boat last summer before she went back to school, over the year I guess some teenagers thought it was a good hideout and trashed it even more."
"Seriously?" Her head pokes up "It would be great if you could come down with me later, she just needs a little love," Ellie spoons some cereal into her mouth. I had always thought it weird how people spoke about their boats like they were women, I even caught myself doing it on occasion. "Only if you want to, of course."
"Sure," I agree, no idea how much repair this boat was in need of "I've got nothing better to do."
I could tell Joel counted this as a win. I knew he had been commuting with my parents and how desperately they wanted me to keep myself occupied for the summer. "Well, we've got some work to do, kiddo."
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After a solid five hours of following Joel around like a duckling and re-learning all the names of the animals, I was walking with Ellie toward her pickup truck. "Wanna drive?" She asks as we walk to the long beaten driveway
"Oh, I can't." The coolness of the morning has ebbed away into a borderline unbearable heat, I wasn't sure how Ellie was absolutely unfazed in her Jeans, T-shirt, and trucker hat. 
"You never got your licence?"
"No, it got taken away."
She cracks a grin "Jeez, what did you do? Hit a pedestrian?" Ellie teases.
"Something like that," Truthfully, my licence got revoked after I got a DUI and swerved my car off the highway, I was too high to realize the danger I was in and laughed the entire time warm blood pooled from a gash in my head that had to be stapled shut. Luckily my parents can throw money at anything and the problem will go away. 
She hops in the truck, there are little bits and pieces of it that show how it's lived in. A rubber duck with sunglasses sits on the dashboard and I'm partially surprised it hasn't melted in the sweltering heat. 
As beautiful and scenic as the drive down to the docks is, it's also extremely awkward, only on my end, Ellie seems completely unfazed. Travelling down the dirt roads until we finally hit the pavement. 
The salty breeze of Andromeda Cove carries conversations of clubbing and tanning, mingling with the sweet scent of coconut sunscreen and sea salt. Colourful beach umbrellas dot the shoreline. Seagulls glide effortlessly overhead, their calls blending seamlessly with the distant laughter of beachgoers. Quaint shops and cafes line the bustling boardwalk, offering an array of surfboards, souvenirs, and freshly caught seafood delicacies.
The Cove was immune to those gross and bland modern buildings that looked like something I would've made in Minecraft as a kid. Everything down here was local and kept its charm even after all these years. "Do you ever miss it here?" 
"I don't remember much of it to be honest."
"Really?" She asks, taking a turn down to the docks "It doesn't seem like it was that long ago."
"Yeah, my memory just isn't very good." My lungs are burnt and my brain is fried. You could tell me that I was in cheerleading for five years of my life and I would probably believe you. 
"Alright." 
I hadn't remembered her being this quiet but then again I don't remember much, I should probably write down everything I can before Alzheimer's sets in. There are lapses in my mind where memories should live, I recall my life through glimpses.
Ellie takes her keys out of the ignition and hops out of the truck, leading me down the docks. I keep guessing in my head which boat belongs to her and then the second I spot it, I know and how I dread. It's a sailboat or what's left of one, sharpie graffiti scribbled all around it. The word 'wanderlust' had once been titled along the side though the first half was scratched out by what I assume were those teenagers Joel mentioned so it just said 'lust'.
Ellie had no problem climbing aboard, I on the other hand had doubts that it could support the weight of two people, let alone itself. There were chips of white paint scraped off, Ellie motioned for me to get on deck  "How long has this been abandoned?"
She waves me off  "There's freedom that comes with abandonment."
I raise an eyebrow "Sinking in a boat that's docked is a very lame way to die."
"Nah," She says "We can haunt the marina."
She holds out her hand for me to take it and with hesitation, I do. Stepping over the gap between the dock and the boat, I haul myself over the rails. Even in the dark, I could make that climb, it was almost like muscle memory from working at my parents marina summer after summer. "She's a beauty, yeah? In her own special kind of way," Ellie pats the side of the companionway. "I actually made some progress on it last summer, if you can believe me."
"I don't know if I can," I look around, following her as we duck into the saloon.
She reaches for a notebook with a pink sharpie clipped onto it on the table of the saloon and turns to face me "Whoever was here must've been a real wordsmith, what I can't figure out is how the words got out of the notebook and onto my walls." 
I crawl onto the cushioned V-berth to get a better look at all of the writing on the walls. Most of it had been poetry, not Edgar Allen Poe but the kind that only an angsty teenage girl on the verge of a mental break could've written. 
The Statue of Juliette:
May I ask what you have done to women?
That your hands have only learned to harm one
Hand after filthy hand
Is dragged
Groped
Caressed
Prodded
Over my rusted skin
The things I have seen
The things I have endured
No water can clean me
No blanket can warm me
Take a hammer to my bronze flesh
And I will thank you for your kindness
As my body crumbles and clatters against cobblestone
I am eternally grateful
For this is the gentlest act I have ever faced
"I know," Ellie says, and I look back to meet her sharp gaze "A real Sylvia Plath.”
"Is this your candle?" I reach for it on the ground, it's halfway through its life. A vanilla bean bath and bodyworks candle.
She takes it from my hand and gives it a sniff "I was wondering why it smelled so good in here, I just thought that was you." She places the candle back onto the saloon table "So, Neptune's daughter, where should we start?"
I snatch the notebook from the table and flip it open to a page clean of any writing. It takes a little less than fifteen minutes to seek out all of the trouble spots. Ellie followed behind me and nodded to everything that I was saying. 
The boat isn't in nearly as bad of condition as I expected. I suspected that the teenagers who occupied it while Ellie was away at college had all been girls, they took relatively good care of the boat aside from the graffiti, allegedly most of the damage had been there when Ellie got it from Tommy a year ago.
We now sat next to each other in the booth around the saloon table, the ocean rocked the boat beneath us ever so gently, the same way a mother would rock her child's cradle. I missed the sea when I was in college, on a bender I had driven three hours just to be back with it, it seemed the only safe place to let go and be reborn. I liked the sharpness of the air, the vastness of the horizon and the mystery beneath it. I thought I would rise from the seafoam a new woman the same way Aphrodite did but no, I threw up on the sandy shores and called my parents to make it go away.
I give the notebook over to Ellie, a new entry written in bright pink Sharpie amongst the poetry and anecdotes. 
Wanderlust's issues:
Mainsail and jib seem sketchy; Unfold the hoist for a full assessment
Wiring issues are out of my hands but a probable concern-should probably call in an expert
Nav instruments are cracked
Leaks on starboard window, probs cracked moulding
Interior woodwork is original, mainly solid despite a bit of mildew
Graffiti and chipped paint, graffiti likely cleanable (May need a new coat of paint)
Possible rigging issues
Underside? That's a question for the experts
Final Verdict: Wanderlust is a seaworthy vessel in need of some love
Ellie lets out a low whistle "God, I love a girl who knows the difference between a mainsail and a jib." She cracks a mischievous grin.
"You're teetering very close between sexy and crass," I tease her in return.
She seems a little taken aback by my comment, like she hadn't anticipated a response but ignores it nonetheless "What would it take to make you my first mate?"
"I'm sorry?"
"For someone with a bad memory, you seem to know your boats, Joel said that you used to work on charters. You gotta know more about sailing than me. It'll be a fun summer project, get you out of the house a bit."
I furrow my eyebrows as I look at her "You want me to work on the boat with you?"
Ellie nodded. She didn't rush to fill the silence that stretched between us, she didn't bother to sweeten the deal or hunt for some reason I would like working with her. She just let it stand. I looked her in the eyes, trying to figure her out. She goes from being almost non-verbal with me and now she asks me to spend the summer on a boat with her. I wondered if she knew what she was doing at all and if I would be carrying her through this.
I had a feeling that Ellie would become my next bad habit. It's easy to get addicted when everything interests you and nothing satisfies you. "I'm in."
"You won't regret this," Ellie almost jumps up, I swear I could've seen her making calculations in her head "So, I'm thinking we get rid of all this junk and get a good look at it bare bones, make a list of supplies and give her the spa day shes in desperate need of."
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On my second day as first mate, I had been scrubbing away inside of the saloon while Ellie did some work on the exterior, my Scrub Daddy was being put to work. By the time I even made a dent in all of the Sharpie poetry, it was nearly falling apart and begging to be killed.
When I emerged from the companionway to replace my filthy bucket of water I spotted Ellie chatting up a girl on a dock. She had long glossy black hair that cascaded down her back in strategic ringlets. "So you're gonna sail on this thing?"
"Rebuilding her first," Ellie tells her, leaning against the railing. The girl she's speaking to looks like she's freezing, denim shorts cropped high and a white tank top.
"Do you need help?" She smiles and even I'm seduced by it. She has tanned skin that she's clearly been working on and sunglasses pushing back the silky hair from her forehead. "I've been on boats, lots of times," Her arms are crossed over her chest. I can see goosebumps all over her legs from the chill brought to us by the gray sky above and the frigid air. 
"That so?" Ellie asks, rising to her full height. A wrench in hand, it looks like the beginning of a really bad movie, not a family-friendly one. She saw me then, standing behind her. I watched her facade drop. Her smile changed as I approached, turning from flirt to friend in two seconds.
"Oh, hey," The black-haired girl regards me like I'm some kind of threat. "So do you need help or what?" 
Ellie looks at me and then back to her "Thanks for the offer but we're all set."
"Do you maybe wanna grab lunch or something?" She completely ignores me.
Ellie shakes her head "We've got lots of work to do, but-" She takes a deliberate pause and I almost cringe "I'll probably be at the shipwreck later. Stop by if you're around."
"See ya'," She grins and takes the sunglasses off the top of her head, placing them on the nose bridge before walking back down the dock.
"Wow," I dump my bucket of water over the rail of the boat "Looks like super difficult work out here, you are so brave." Sarcasm drips from my tone "Without you, who will flirt with all of the hot girls at the marina?"
"No need to be jealous," She says "I'm spending every waking minute with you after all."
I gave her the evil eye but I truly wasn't jealous. I didn't chase the thrill of a fling or late nights with girls whom I would forget by morning. I had dropped that by college and replaced it with ketamine and opioids, I abused liquor like I was its two-faced love. Now the only thing I chased was calmness. 
I wasn't jealous, just briefly reminiscing over how carefree I used to be. 
The tide was rolling and the sky above us was gray and angry as if something was raging within it. "Shit," I mutter, waves shifting from a distant hiss to a closer hush. The air hung heavy, I hadn't even noticed the change in weather from what seemed like the century I spent scrubbing away in the saloon. 
Ellie must've noticed what I was. "So, I'm thinking we should go?"
"You think?" I retort.
Moments later we're packed and rushing down the dock to find her truck. It doesn't take long for rain to begin to splatter on the ground beneath us, it isn't light and gentle, it's harsh. It sounds like pebbles being tossed onto a sheet of glass.
By the time we reach the truck, I'm soaked, hair sticking to my forehead and neck "You didn't want to poke your head into the saloon and say 'Hey, it's looking like there's gonna be a storm'?" 
"I was a little preoccupied," Ellie isn't much better off than I am, she takes off the flannel she had on top of her tank top and tosses it into the backseat, her tattoo out on full display. The rain is so heavy that everything on the outside of her truck looks like a blur. 
"Can you even drive in this?"
"No, can you?"
"No, I told you I have a DUI," The second the words leave my mouth I regret the slip-up. My eyes go wide and a hand slaps over my mouth, I'm acting like I just told her I was the one who took out JFK.
"You didn't tell me that."
"Well," I look forward, ignoring her piercing gaze, "I thought I did."
If not for the rain outside that pounded against the glass as if it wanted to be let in, we would've sat in complete silence while we drowned beneath all of the words going unsaid. My mind begins to wonder, first I think of the black-haired girl at the docks; I hope she didn't get stuck outside in the rain, especially with her lack of clothing. Then I think about what Ellie's thinking, did she know already? Had Joel told her? I'm humiliated all over again like I'd been when the paramedics dragged my half-naked body out of a bathtub.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" She asks. I don't say anything and she takes this as a hint "We don't have to talk about it."
I'm beginning to grow comfortable with the silence. I almost preferred it to the back-and-forth banter Joel and Ellie constantly had, which was more so father and daughter teasing each other.
Joel had probably known more about me than I did, my parents liked to keep him filled in after all. They just loved to keep tabs on me, if it was legal I'm sure they would put cameras behind my retinas and watch my every move. Eight months ago when I was in rehab, that was the most peace I've ever felt. As much as my parents wanted me clean, they held resentment since I ruined my life and was destroying theirs by association. Joel didn't seem like the type to gossip to his daughter but it nagged at me regardless. "Did Joel tell you anything?"
"What do you mean?"
"Just-like," I search through my brain to find the words "Like what I've been up to?"
She shrugged "He just said you are on a deferral and need a break from the city."
"Okay," I say, my voice so quiet it was almost smothered by the obnoxious rain. 
"Are you hungry?"
We had thrown on two jackets Ellie had in the back seat of the cars. She offered me Joel's black raincoat while she humbly took the bright yellow rain poncho. It took everything in me not to laugh at her, she looked like Georgie.
Ellie slung one arm around me, we were both hunched over as we ran as fast as we could. She was shouting stuff at me but I couldn't hear her through the rain, I just nodded in agreement and hoped she hadn't said something awful.
She tugged me left, the deluge chasing us into Salty's for cover. It was nearly dead in there, two other tables, one was an elderly couple and the other was a group of girls, laughing like hyenas while one of them showed the others a picture on her phone.
Ellie wasted no time in taking off her poncho and I didn't blame her, no one wanted to be seen in that. The second we settled into a booth by the huge glass window which took up the entire storefront, an over-eager waiter came up. He was tall, had dark hair and had handsome features, he must've been bored with how slow it was in here. "Hey, Jesse," Ellie said "Can I have water and a big-buck burger?"
He nodded and swerved his body to look at me, "Alright and for you-" He looked up from his notepad and paused for a moment before a huge smile cracked on his face "I haven't seen you in so long!" 
"Hi," I smiled, my mouth hanging openly awkwardly as I tried to recall him.
"Do you remember me?" He asked, his hand dropping to his side "Jesse," He reminded "We used to go to school together."
I had no idea who he was "Oh my god, yes!" I say "I remember."
His smile grows "God, you look so different."
"You too," I gesture at him "You're way more-" My mind falls flat "Grown."
He nods along to my words "Have you had a chance to look at the menu?"
Wanting this conversation as soon as possible I nod despite not even opening the menu “Yeah, I'll just get the, uh, big-buck and a club soda.” I repeated Ellie's order.
He jots it down onto his notepad "It'll be right up."
"Ellie, I don't know who that is," I say when I see him retreat to the server station to fill in the order. The entire restaurant is nautical-themed, the walls painted black, and there were nets with faux fish covering every square inch of the ceiling.
"Wow, I had no idea," She says, sarcastically "Damn, your memory really is fucked." 
Trust me, I know or at least I think I do. I disregard her comment "Water? Don't you wanna get rootbeer or something? Joel said you drink so much soda that your blood is made of corn syrup."
She grins "Gotta keep up the tough guy act."
Across the restaurant one of the girls waves to Ellie, this one has curly brown hair and a sundress "Hi, Ellie!"
Her eyebrows furrow "Hey there-um...you," Ellie said "Good to see you again."
The girl smiles slyly at Ellie before turning back to her friends. "Looks like I'm not the only one forgetting people, what's your excuse?"
"There's a lot of girls in the world, I can't remember all of their names."
"You must've gone through every girl in the cove, power to ya'," I say "No idea you had such a reputation."
"You don't know a lot about me."
I shrug "You know even less about me."
"I bet I could guess."
"Be my guest."
She leans back like she's carefully considering her next words, choosing them very wisely before she finally settles "You picked a major like communications and got bored quickly, decided you needed to do some soul searching. Probably read 'Eat, Prey, Love,' then went on a backpacking trip, expenses paid by your parents. Alternatively, you lived in a van and pretended to be a broke hippie."
I shook my head "Very cliche and you were only right about one thing."
"What?"
"I got bored quickly," The rain outside was failing to cease. Across from me, it looked like Ellie was calculating my every move. Her auburn hair was still wet, and from her hairline, a droplet of water dribbled down onto her button nose to rest on her cupid bow.
"Can I have a hint then?"
"No."
I see a realisation hit her "You partied with frat guys?"
I shook my head "I've always been too cool for them." I wasn't too cool for them, I was too fucked up to even know they were throwing a party until someone verbally informed me, by that point all I've ever done at a frat party was break in through a window and steal a keg like the disgusting fiend I was. It was nothing to be proud of, my friends thought it was hilarious and posted it on their Snapchat stories, egging me on and feeding into this sickening behaviour. What wasn't funny was how I got caught and winded up with a busted lip and broken rib. With pupils the size of my iris, I couldn't feel the pain I was in.
"Okay, now you have to tell me."
"I can't, I lose my mysterious allure."
The bell above the door chimes signalling the arrival of another customer and said customer makes a b-line for our table. She takes a seat next to Ellie "Jesse texted me that you were here.”
"Dina, were you at work?" Ellie furrows her eyebrows.
"Yeah, it's not like anyone's buying souvenirs right now and Jesse told me you finally came back," She whips her head to look over at me.
I genuinely remembered her, unlike Jesse. She had buried the time capsule with Ellie, her family and I. I also recalled how her older sister used to give us hand-me-down clothes. "Dina, hi."
She has freckles scattered across her face the same way that Ellie does. Her smile was so comforting, I forgot that I was soaked to my bones and shivering. "Well we should all do something together tonight," Dina grins "You're doing Ellie a huge favour by helping her fix that rig, she better give you some good head for it."
I almost choke on my saliva while Ellie just groans with disappointment like she had anticipated Dina saying something along those lines "D, you can't say that stuff around every girl I'm with, this is essentially my sister for the summer."
Dina raises her hands in defence "Sorry, my bad, I was unaware since you failed to mention that you have my old friend living with you." Ellie looks like she's going to say something but Dina speaks up again before she has the chance to "Let me give you my number."
Wordlessly, I hand my phone over to Dina who fills out her contact information and then gives my phone right back to me. I study Dina's face and her mannerisms, hoping that something might bring me back to my childhood which has been wiped away by every upper and downer you could put a name to. Something about her seemed familiar, maybe we had been closer friends than I thought.
I nod along to whatever she and Ellie are saying, chiming in random bits of dialogue but my mind is stuck on the two of them side by side. They're what I could've been if my family never moved us away and I hadn't turned my brain into sludge.
The life I could've had.
 Ellie smoked from what I knew, maybe Dina or Jesse were into something a little more hardcore. Hardcore? If hardcore qualifies as drowning in a concoction of cough syrup, Vicodin, codeine, and Gatorade to balance out the flavour of self-destruction. The bottles I swallowed to sleep, I showed up to almost every lecture high. Here I was handed what was nearly a good life and I tossed it away for something with a sweeter taste than a stable job and proper education.
The horrors I've committed. No good deed will ever outdo the bad that I have unleashed upon this godforsaken earth. From my clouded brain, paralyzing thoughts come to life to curse myself, the nightmare no mother would wish for her child to endure. 
Relapse after relapse, I would fall sick with the thought of how many times I had to relapse until I was finally clean and that bitter flavour washed from my mouth.
"Are you okay?" Dina asks with a smile and furrowed brows "We kind of lost you there."
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It's one in the morning and I want to drink wine then slip beneath the rapid waters that will gladly pull me under and claim me as theirs.
Instead, I opt for a class of water. As Dina had said earlier, she wanted to get a bunch of friends together but the second we got home, I showered and locked myself away. Echoes of laughter and chatter drifted through my window.
I slip down the steps that lead to the kitchen. Outside the rain has finally dissipated and Ellie, Dina, Jesse, along with a handful of people I don't know crowd around a bonfire. The kitchen is illuminated only by moonlight, the moon hung over me as I poured myself water from the tap, a dead thing over a dying thing. 
I have seafoam in my veins and centuries-passed sunshine that induces my craving for some pills that will put me to sleep. Three months completely clean and yet that doesn't end the yearning for the drugs that comforted me more than any human ever had. 
The door cracks open and in comes Ellie, she's laughing and from the uncontrollable giggles, drowsy gaze, and slightly disoriented walking I can tell that she's been smoking. "Hey," She smiles at me, reaching passed me to grab a mug with Garfield on the front and fill it with water but she doesn't take a sip, she just sits it down on the counter behind us and stares at me.
Our faces only inches apart, I contemplate her next move. This close I can smell the marijuana on her and I almost want to scuttle upstairs and light a candle. Ellie hugs me, wrapping her arms around my midriff and letting her head find its resting place in the crook of my neck "Are you okay?"
"Mhm" She hums "I'm just glad you're here, whatever the circumstances are, I'm happy that you're helping me with the boat," I'm carrying almost her full way, and she's slouched against me "I love you man, I know you don't remember a lot from when we were kids but we had a lot of fun together."
"Thanks, Ellie," I give her a little pat on the back "That's really nice of you."
She peels herself away from me, using the counter to lean against instead. She looks me up and down, having an intense staring contest with my pyjamas "Do you wanna come out and smoke with everyone?" She's shed her tank top and thrown over a gray hoodie to shroud her from the oncoming cold.
I shake my head, no "I don't mess with that stuff."
"That's smart," She says "Have fun in your room, stowaway, I'll see you tomorrow to work on our boat," With that Ellie leaves without grabbing the Garfield mug she came in here for.
A/N: Hey, y’all. I’m aware I have a million open docs, I assure you they are all getting some love but I needed to come back to my roots and write some angst. These are some issues I have struggled with and I feel that it’s important to bring attention to it so it’s not taboo.
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alienwithaguitar · 25 days
Text
Shelby said a lot during her stream, teetering from honorable to downright strange, and I want to address some of the issues. Before I say anything, I am still supportive of Shelby’s story, but this stream revealed a lot to me. I especially push Shelby supporters to read this, as this stream pushed MANY people I know to a neutral stance.
Shelby claimed having a depressive disorder just involved "feeling depressed", which is a harmful misconception that minimizes our struggles. Depression is more than feeling sad, and is categorized as being "different from regular mood changes and feelings about everyday life." It can involve constant hopelessness, angry outbursts, loss of motivation in most activities, and can lead to fluctuating weights, suicidal ideations, and self-sabotaging. To say "we all feel a little depressed sometimes" is to dismiss the lifelong struggles people with depression go through.
Shelby also implies that people with mental illness cannot change, and that recovery is not possible if your depression has hurt others. Not only is that an incredibly harmful idea to spread, it's blatantly incorrect. Just as habits and thoughts are trained throughout your life, they can also be untrained. There is genuine psychological basis in this, and to say that recovery is impossible is scientifically false. Personalities shift our entire lives, and changes in our physical and mental environments help us train new habits. This is part of the reason we try forming better schedules in new environments, and why a consistently stressful environment can bloom negative habits.
People don't chose to have mental illness, and if you're never taught to handle it, it can be extremely easy to hurt others. The most powerful tool to recovery is believing you can be better, and Shelby telling people to not even try is just enabling self-destructive people to hurt others for the rest of their lives. Change is a long process, but it's absolutely possible- Something as simple as a disruption in your life, a wake up call, and a drive to be a better person are the first steps to kickstarting change.
Shelby’s claims are very strange considering the rest of the stream. Earlier, she went on a rant about content creator’s influence on teenagers. She acknowledged teenagers are impressionable, and that it’s important to take care of those looking up to you. She recognized her fanbase was mainly teenagers, many of whom struggle from mental illness. It feels backwards to emphasize being a good role model before telling thousands of kids that their mental illness makes them a bad person. Her statement was about treating people with kindness no matter what, but she couldn’t keep that energy for people with depression.
Shelby herself was able to find help in therapy, so to deny that others should seek help feels selfish. She also confirmed on stream that she's seen the informative resources people sent her, and that she has ignored them. I can excuse the stereotyping if she's willing to be educated, but she's made it clear she believes she’s right. This is one thing I cannot defend, and I can't forgive her for slandering myself and thousands of struggling teens’ progress to their faces.
One final thing Shelby mentioned was that we should wait for evidence, and it's alright to feel doubtful. I want to revisit her statement with the current evidence we have, that I will take with a grain of salt by her own request. With the proof we have, nothing that Shelby claims comes across as abusive outside of the biting.
Shelby said she would get locked in his house at times. UK houses need a key to unlock the inside, and Wilbur likely only had one. While at his house, Shelby had access to her phone, and there were ways she could communicate with him or call for help if this was a problem. We have no evidence to claim that he trapped her. Shelby also stated her family never met Wilbur, because she had to travel to meet him. It wouldn't be unreasonable to stay in his house for an extended amount of time, and that was entirely her choice. She certainly might have felt neglected, but to claim that it was entrapment is baseless.
Wilbur was also busy with tours, absent nearly 200 days of the year. Feeling lonely makes sense, but raising that as abusive and holding it against him is ridiculous. As a famous musician, Wilbur has obligations that he legally can't drop. This was something she needed to be aware of when pursuing a relationship with him. She's allowed to wish things were different, but genuinely expecting him to abandon his lifelong passion is more than a little strange. This doesn't detract from her feelings, but to hold his legal obligations over his head when she should’ve known he'd be busy is unreasonable.
Shelby has also made a point of publicly shaming his hygiene. The inability to care for yourself and your space is a common symptom of depression. It was kind of her to clean, but her words imply she thinks he's just lazy. She explicitly notes that Wilbur didn’t expect her to clean, but that he waited for her to clean. This is weird to specify, as people with depression typically don't make plans to clean for long periods of time. She likely just assumed his inaction was a sign for her to do it, rather than something he struggled with and had no plans to do anyway. I don't think she was right for shaming his depressive habits, and I don't think he was right for dismissing her help. However, the comments he made about her cleaning very strongly imply that he never had plans to clean either way. This just reads as a choice to help out, not expectation or pressure.
Based on the evidence we have now, the points Shelby made just come across as her dating a mentally ill man and not being prepared for the challenges that come with that. Her family never met him, and he was very busy, so there wasn’t much outside opinion she could get. It's reasonable for her to feel neglected, but that doesn't necessarily mean it was intentional harm. It's important for both parties to get help, to communicate what happened and talk about their feelings. Wilbur stated he was committed to talking with her and addressing her concerns, while Shelby blocked him and refused to communicate, despite telling him she wanted to remain friends. All she's done since is reject his apology (even though he made a statement, not an apology, for legal reasons) and ignore his requests to speak. This avoidance to communicate is likely why the lines of consent and expectation were blurred in their relationship, as they've both expressed an inability to communicate.
This was not written to discredit Shelby's experience, I do believe she has trauma. However, you can absolutely be traumatized by relationships that weren't necessarily abusive. I've experienced years of PTSD from completely fabricated nightmares, and have trauma from repeated hallucinations of my ex. She’s not lying about her feelings- But between the contradictions, refusing to talk with Wilbur about an apology, and the insistence to "communicate” despite the fact that she blocked him, I can't support Shelby's actions.
I will always fight to uplift victims, and I am sympathetic of her story, but I can't defend someone who makes no effort to communicate or educate herself before speaking. Until either of them presents something that is beyond "he said, she said" I will remain neutral. I think they both deserve a chance to change and talk about this privately, and I will be waiting for a better response in the mean time. There was clearly miscommunication, and this was brought to us prematurely (shown by her contradicting statements.) I urge you all to look at the evidence and hopefully come to a similar conclusion. You can feel for someone's experiences and sympathize with their mental state without endorsing them. Stay safe, be kind, and don't jump to any conclusions. 🤍
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thefallennightmare · 4 months
Text
Just Pretend-nineteen
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*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*
Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader
Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.
Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.
Authors Note: I realized today that Sarah and I have been working on this story for almost TWO MONTHS. Holy shit. Talk about a slow burn! I don't think it's ever taken me this long to write an active story. Also, there are a few sentences in Greek and Italian in this chapter. You can find the translations at the end of the chapter.
Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)
Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid @casangel1986 @qualityvoidcollectorsblog @myownthoughts12 @jilliemiw86 @bellaboo967 @halloweenaesthetic
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NOAH
My knee bounced in a tangent along with the clock on the wall behind Dr. Poulos as she tilted her head towards me, waiting for my answer. 
“I’m sorry, what was the question?” I blinked slowly. 
She gave me a small smile, tapping her pen on her notebook; something I’ve realized she did when she was ready to ask me a hard-hitting question. 
“How have the panic attacks been?” Dr. Poulos wondered. 
“Uh,” I rubbed my jaw. “It’s been better, I suppose. I still feel them starting every once in a while but my friends have been great at helping me through them.” 
“That’s great,” she smiled. “I’m glad to hear that. I know it was a problem for you from our first session.” 
“Yeah, I’ve come to realize there were a few aspects of my life that hindered me more than helped me.” 
Dr. Poulos’ brows raised. “Like what?” 
“Up until recently, I would drink; a lot. And smoke weed every so often. People say it’s the lesser of the drugs but it affected me in such a way that I didn’t like the man I saw in the mirror. Same with the alcohol. So, I’ve decided to become sober.” 
That spread a wider smile on her face. “I’m proud of you, Noah. It’s not an easy thing to overcome but to see how determined you are makes me very happy.” 
I ran my hands over my thighs while standing up straighter on the couch; her positive praise made my heart beat a bit faster. 
“I just want to be the healthiest I can be. Your body is a temple, ya know? It’s only been a few weeks but I can already tell a difference in the way I sing.” 
“That’s exceptional, Noah. I’m happy to hear that. It’ll help the course of your life. But I must ask, do you feel it’ll leave a part of you open and willing to accept the love you think you deserve?” 
I pursed my lips. “What do you mean?” 
“Well, as you mentioned previously, it sounds like Y/N has had some complicated relations with a man who was in a state of addiction. Do you feel that maybe, a part of your being sober can help you leave that part finally open? Allow you to see that you can be loved.” 
When I remained silent, letting her words rest in my mind, Dr. Poulos shut her notebook and set it on the table between us; next to one of those sand zen garden things. 
“What you're doing with Bailey and hiding your true feelings for Y/N doesn't seem to be helping, right?” 
I shook my head with a long sigh. “I never meant for things to go this far.” 
Dr. Poulos leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees, stippling her fingers. 
“Has Y/N ever given you a reason to doubt the things you say to her?” 
“No. Never,” I answered without missing a beat. 
“Then what’s stopping you from telling her how you feel?” She brushed a strand of brown-graying hair from her eyes. 
With Dr. Poulos’ words replaying in my mind, I sat down on the steps of her office while clicking on Bailey’s contact name on my phone. As it rang, I tapped my fingers on my knee to drum a random beat. 
“Hey, it’s Bailey. Leave me a message!’
Cursing to myself, I wished that she had answered because I didn’t want to do this with her voicemail but I had no other option. This needed to be done. 
“Bailey, it’s me- Noah,” I sighed while pinching my eyes shut. “Listen, I didn’t want to do this over text or on your voicemail. But I thought it best you hear me say this. I wanted to discuss it with you the other day but shit came up.” 
My eyes watched as a few people walked past on the sidewalk in front of me. 
“Look, I never wanted to hurt you, you’re a nice girl but this-us-isn’t working for me. I’m-I’m sorry if this hurts you. Truly. I’m not good at words all the time but I will say that I wish you the best and I hope you have a nice life.” 
After hanging up, I could physically feel the weight lift off my shoulders and heart. Breathing was easier and lighter, so with this newfound feeling, I quickly dialed Y/N’s number. 
“Mochi!” 
I could hear the smile in her voice.
“Hi, angel. Are you busy?” I asked while rising from the steps to walk a few steps to my car that was parked in the street. 
“I’m walking into an appointment right now. Can I call you later?”
Ignoring the way my heart dropped, I started my car and sat there for a moment. 
“Of course. I’ll be in the studio but I’ll always answer for you.” My hand ran over the steering wheel. 
“So sweet,” Y/N chuckled and my stomach fluttered. “There’s a reason why I gave you that nickname.” 
We quickly said our goodbyes and my mind was filled with the heavy conversation I needed to have with Y/N. I didn’t even realize the familiar figure bounding up the steps of the same office I left mere minutes ago, her yellow sundress flowing in the wind.
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READER
My eyes were trained on the small sand zen garden on Dr. Poulos’ table as she tapped her pen against the notebook in her lap. The clock ticked annoyingly loudly behind her, almost mocking me as I continued to leave her question unanswered. 
“Y/N,” Dr. Poulos’s voice was firm, breaking me from my trance. “You mentioned your mother contacted you the other day?” 
I played with the hem of my yellow sundress. “Uh, yeah. She doesn't do it often but when she does, she really lets her feelings known.” 
“And what are those feelings?” 
“The same bullshit. My mom doesn’t agree with the lifestyle I’ve chosen. She thinks it's a waste of time,” I shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. “It’s who she is. Being Greek, I was raised to have large but realistic dreams. My father on the other hand wanted and still wants me to follow my heart, he wants me to go after what I want, what I need. There’s a line between both of them.”
“You know,” Dr. Poulos tucked a strand of her brown-graying hair behind her ear. “There’s a study that says insecure attachment styles can develop as a result of poor parenting. Research indicates that attachment in childhood affects the development of familial, social, and romantic relationships later in life. Do you feel this has deeply affected or influenced your relationships? 
I pursed my lips. “What do you mean?” 
“I mean, you’ve had a pattern of falling for men who aren't good for you yet believing they are real love when you know subconsciously you deserve better.” 
“Maybe,” the word trailed off my lips, uncertainty weighing heavy on my heart. 
Dr. Poulos hummed, crossing one leg over the other. “It sounds that way, doesn’t it? Are you running from Noah because you’re afraid you’ll disappoint him? Afraid he’ll do what your mother often does? You’ve seen the way your parent's marriage was like growing up, that has to be a hindering factor, doesn't it? 
My jaw ticked. “My mother was unfair to my father. I’d never do that or treat anyone that way.” 
“I know you won’t, Y/N. You know it yourself, deep down in your heart,” she patted a hand over her own heart. “Because from what you told me about Noah, I don’t believe that he would act the way your mother has. You won’t disappoint him. And he doesn’t want to do that to you either.” 
I shook my head widely. “He’s with someone else so it doesn't even matter.” 
A small smile lifted at the corner of her lips. “Quite the contrary, Y/N. You said it earlier you wanted to tell him the truth. He isn’t your mother and again, from what you’ve told me it sounds like you both may want the same things. You’re just not trusting yourself. You’re relying on your trauma and issues with your mother to get in the way.” 
“Wow, nice observation,” I snorted. “How am I supposed to fix that?” 
Dr. Poulos ignored my snarky attitude. “If your mother has been unreliable, then you may need to lean on other people who are for support. Socializing with friends and learning to be vulnerable with others can help increase emotional connection.” 
“Malcolm and Chase are reliable,” I stated. 
“It sounds like it, from what you’ve told me,” she nodded. “There’s also Noah. His support can take some time to develop but having stable relationships with others can be part of healing. And most of all, self-care.” 
I left therapy with a hopeful heart and bright smile. Dr. Poulos always knew what I needed to hear as much as I tried to fight it. Peaking down at my phone, my pulse quickened when I noticed a missed text from Noah.
Mochi 🍡: New episode of Attack on Titan dropped. I can pick up lunch. Your place or mine?
Giggling, I typed out my response, not letting anything ruin this euphoric high I felt.
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NOAH
I stood outside Y/N’s front door, shaking out the nerves, and knocked on it. I had a bag of take-out food in my hand, something she requested from her favorite burrito place. 
“Hi,” she smiled while letting me in. “Did you remember the Dr. Pepper?” 
I chuckled while holding up the cup. “Light ice.” 
As we set out the food on the table in their dining room, I motioned towards the various easels and splattered pain on the carpet. “Studio?” 
“Yeah,” Y/N gave a sheepish smile. The lighting in here is better than my bedroom; although not by much.” 
I took in the various paintings of abstract lines and colors, some of random landscapes, and one of Salem. 
“These are really good, angel.” 
“I’m glad I decided to do this. Painting has been a great way to escape from reality, even for a little bit,” she took a bite of her burrito. “Oh, extra guac? How’d you know?” 
I shrugged. “I just do.”
We ate in silence for the next few long moments and as much as I tried to quiet the loud voices in my mind that screamed at me to tell Y/N the truth right now, it was extremely difficult. 
My eyes took in the glimmer of her bracelet as she reached for the chips and I couldn't stop the smile that spread wide to my lips. Y/N was still wearing the jewelry I bought her and it made me feel proud. 
“Where’s Chase and Malcolm?” I asked, noticing the quiet.
Y/N took a large drink of her soda, reveling in the taste. “Hiking. They left earlier this morning and typically don’t come back till later. So I have the place to myself.”
Just as I was about to speak, a persistent knock sounded on the front door, and she turned towards it with a confused stare. 
“Expecting anyone?” 
She shook her head. “Nope. Probably someone selling Girl Scout cookies.” 
“If they have Thin Mints, I’ll take four boxes,” I called after Y/N. 
Her laugh echoed throughout the room but soon seized when she opened the door. I noticed the way her body went rigid and I slowly rose in time to see a tall but petite brunette all but push her way inside. 
“Hi, koukla. I would have texted or called but it seems like you have an issue with checking your phone,” the lady peered around the space, a sour look on her lips. 
“Mo-mom? What are you doing here?” 
Shit. 
I knew there was a history with Y/N’s mom but never knew how deep it ran. 
“I was in town and thought to surprise you. Since you never talk to me anymore,” her mom tsked. 
Finally, her eyes landed on me, standing in the threshold of the living room and dining room; gaze hardening. 
“Who’s this?” She asked Y/N. 
Internally I snorted at how she asked Y/N rather than asking me. 
“I’m Noah,” I introduced myself while brushing away the strands from my face. 
Her mom hummed before nodding towards the back end of the house. “Give me and my daughter some privacy.” 
“Mom!” Y/N seethed. 
Noticing how the tension shifted, I gave Y/N a soft smile. “It’s alright. I’ll go say hi to Salem.” 
With my back to them, I walked down the hall and heard her mom mutter something in Greek. 
“Giatí échei makriá malliá?” 
“Eísai apísteftos,” Y/N responded in a stern voice. 
Sitting in the Y/N’s bedroom with Salem perched on my lap, I left the door wide open so I could listen in on the conversation. It may have been wrong to eavesdrop but something deep inside of me told me to be on edge, just in case.
“You should have called, Mom,” Y/N said. 
“You never return my calls.” 
“Gee, I wonder why. You exactly haven’t been that peachy the last few times we’ve talked.” I could hear the slight edge in Y/N’s voice. 
“I thought I’d told you I don’t appreciate the way you speak to me.” 
“It’s a two-way street, Mom. You get what you give.” 
Salem purred loudly in my lap and I continued to scratch him in the spot I knew he loved; between his ears. 
“I’ve always hated when your father used that line,” her mother sighed. 
Someone was pacing, their footsteps echoing loudly down the hall, and I peered down at Salem. 
“Your mom seems pretty upset right now,” I frowned at the feline. 
His bright green eyes stared back at me, simply demanding one thing silently; more pets to which I obliged. 
“Have you been to the doctor lately?” 
“Since when do you care, Mom? You never ask how I’m doing.” 
Salem jumped off of me when I slowly rose to my feet, deciding that I needed to be closer to Y/N, just in case. 
“I know how bad Endometriosis affects you, Y/N. I’m simply wondering.” 
I could almost hear Y/N roll her eyes as I neared the end of the hallway, out of sight but could still see just enough. Y/N stood with her hands on her hips while her mom sat comfortably on the couch. 
“I’m fine.” Y/N kept her answers short. 
Her mother pursed her lips. “And how’s the career?” 
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes at the way she said career. 
Y/N snorted. “Please, like you give a shit.” 
“Watch your language!” 
“You’ve never supported me with my music. Hell, with any of my dreams. So don’t start acting like you give a shit now. 
Her mom rose to her feet, narrowing her gaze. “That’s not true. I only want what’s best for you, Y/N. You don’t want to end up like your father and be stuck.” 
“He wasn’t stuck,” Y/N scoffed while clenching her fists. 
Her mother clicked her tongue while brushing away Y/N’s hair from her face. “Yes, sweetie, he was. And I’m telling you, no man will want to deal with someone that’s always on the road. What man is going to wait around or understand this lifestyle? What future are you gonna have?”
My jaw clenched at hearing those words because I knew it wasn’t true. There was a man who wanted Y/N; me. I would wait for years if I had to. Whenever she was ready, I’d be here. 
But hearing how her mom talked to her made me realize that there was a reason why Y/N never spoke of her and why she was so apprehensive of any future relationship. 
“We’re not talking about this,” Y/N stepped away from her mom to stand on the other end of the couch, giving more space between them. 
“Once again, you’re avoiding a tough subject. I didn’t raise you this way,” her mother chastised. 
Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Raised me? Are you fucking kidding me? You barely were home, too busy focusing on your career leaving Dad home to raise me!” 
I smirked at hearing Y/N mock her mother in how she said career moments before. 
“Your father was always your favorite. But it was me you stayed with after the divorce!” Her mother's voice was raised. 
Fearing this would end in such a bad way, I pulled my phone to send a text to Chase. 
Me: Y/N’s mom is here and I’m afraid shit is about to hit the fan. What should I do?
His response came almost immediately. 
Chase: Fuck. Whatever you do, Noah. Don’t leave. Stay until we get there. Every time her mom either contacts her or shows up, Y/N goes into a dark place. Malcolm and I are leaving right now and should be back in an hour.
I swallowed thickly as my stomach dropped. If the guys were worried about Y/N’s mom being here, it could only mean one thing. 
Disaster. 
“I stayed with you because you made me feel guilty!” Y/N choked on a sob. “For years I wondered why I didn’t feel a connection with you so I thought staying with you would bring us closer. But instead, you dropped the you’re adopted bomb on me; on my birthday!”
Her mother had the audacity to shrug. 
“You probably would have found out eventually. I simply sped up the process.” 
Y/N shook her head. “You’re unbelievable.” 
“Because I tell the truth? You think people are going to stay with you with the lifestyle you’ve chosen?” 
“Oh, gods, we’re back on this again?” Y/N ran a hand through her hair. “I have a lot of people that support me.” 
 “Who? Your friend?” Her mom pointed a firm finger towards the hallway where I was still hiding around the corner. “Do you think he is going to wait around?” 
For years if I have to. 
“No. No one will, Y/N. You’re like your father with these pipe dreams.” 
“Pipe dreams? I didn’t realize wanting a family was a pipe dream,” Y/N spat. 
Her mother gave her a somber smile, clicking her teeth. “Kouklamou, I thought we talked about this. You can’t have a family, not the traditional way anyway. You need to realize that no man is going to want to go through all that trouble to have a child. It’s not worth it.” 
Y/N and I both flinched at the same time, those words almost verbatim with what Trey used to say to her. There I stood, my fists clenched by my sides, I rolled my shoulders back, glaring towards the petite brunette with dark eyes. 
I was feeling triggered while I observed this entire thing; it felt intrusive at first but now feels like I’m behind fifty feet of glass.
It made sense now, why this loving bond between Y/N and I was inaccessible. In this mode, I had to take great care not to damage these bonds of love, this relationship, this friendship, and this woman in front of me, who very early on became everything to my heart and soul. For in time, the glass disappeared and my love returned stronger.
I understood.
From my corner, I could see how the kitchen table had seen every emotion, from the sweet silent happiness of family times, when the only sound is contented enjoyment, to the rage that bursts out in the hard times; I understood. 
I refused to stand there and let it sour, not to her. Never to her.
Sobs played like a sad tune and I noticed Y/N was crying, hastily whipping away the tears. 
“I can’t believe I continue to let you in my life, knowing how you’ll treat me. Girls are supposed to look up to their mothers as idols, to learn from them how to be mothers. But you’ve shown me how not to treat my kids in the future.” 
“We’ve talked about this, Y/N. The chances of you becoming a mother are not in the cards for you. Neither is this musical career. You need to face reality.”
Fuck this. 
As I stepped into view of them, Y/N pointed to the front door. “I don’t need you to come in here and tell me how to run my life, I’m done with this.” 
“Y/n-.” 
“You heard her,” I spoke while standing next to Y/N, immediately wrapping my arm around her shoulder to pull her into my chest. 
My heart broke at how quickly she grasped onto my shirt, not wanting me to let her go. 
“Excuse me? This is a private matter between my daughter and me. This doesn't concern you,” her mom’s eyes sliced into me. 
“It does. Because it’s Y/N.” 
Her mom’s gaze bounced between the two of us, almost waiting for Y/N to object to my words, but instead, she stood firm, sniffing away her tears. 
“You need to leave.” 
With one final glare, Y/N’s mom snatched her purse off the couch while muttering something Greek under her breath before she slammed the door behind her; all the negative energy leaving in waves. 
“Y/N,” I tried to make her look at me but she kept her head cast down. 
“I can’t, Noah,” she cried. 
I lifted her chin with a firm finger and sucked in a breath as broken, bloodshot eyes stared back at me. 
“Don’t ever hide from me, angel. You know that.” 
Y/N kept her gaze firm on my face. “She does this every time. I don’t know why I continue to let her. I’m just a girl who wants her mother's love, is that so wrong?” 
“Angel,” I murmured while pulling her into my embrace, brushing a kiss across her forehead. 
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NOAH
My fingers drummed against the marble counter in front of me while Davis set out various ingredients. We were currently streaming the two of us cooking BLTs, something for the fans to enjoy and watch. I was reading some of the comments, smiling at a few then cringing at some others. 
Davis handed me a block of cheese. “Cut this up for me, would ya?” 
With it in one hand, I playfully spit on my hand before giving it a nice smack. 
“Hm, imagining that someone's ass?” He smirked under his breath. 
I gave him a light shove. “Fuck off.” 
We spent the next long while goofing off and having fun for the stream. It was nice to let my mind focus on something else besides Y/N and her mom. I spent the rest of the night at her place, holding her in my arms as she cried herself to sleep. The familiar scent of her lingered on me as I tucked her softly in her bed. Before I walked out of her house, I ran into Chase and Malcolm, whose parting words stuck with me all day.
“She needs you more than she’ll admit. It may not seem like it but she does.” 
Y/N texted me this morning to thank me for being there for her and say that if she went M.I.A for a while today, it’s only because Hollow Souls were in the studio recording. I didn't ask how she was feeling after the surprise visit from her mom. Y/N would tell me, if she wanted to, when she was ready.
“Alright, let’s read some comments,” Davis suggested as we finished up the cook-off; me winning.
He held Max in his hands, every so often giving him kisses. As I read a few comments out loud and responded, the dog practically begged me for attention when a familiar username appeared on the screen. 
Y/NHollowSouls: Noah Sebastian, I swear to Hades himself. You kiss Max right now or I’ll come over there and kick your ass.
I laughed while shaking my head. “Alright, Max. Come here! Let me give you some love.” 
I scratched the dog's ear while leaving a soft kiss on his nose then looked back to the computer screen to see Y/N leave another comment. 
Y/NHollowSouls: Good, that’s better. Now I need to taste this famous BLT that won. 
“Then get your ass over here. Bring some coconut water because Noah drank the last one,” Davis said once he read the comment. 
My heart began to beat widely in my chest at the thought of seeing Y/N again. 
Y/NHollowSouls: fuck yes. Noah, have that sandwich ready for me.
We ended the stream shortly after that but my eyes lingered on the black screen for a long moment. Davis immediately picked up on my quiet mood and knocked on the countertop.
“Noah?” 
My name was white noise, still staring at zoning out in front of me. 
“Earth to Noah! Come in Herc! Come in Herc!” 
“What?” My eyes snapped over to Davis, finally breaking out of my trance. 
“What I thought.” He smirks before getting serious. “Are you alright?” 
I gave a weak smile towards Davis. “Yeah. I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” 
He motioned towards the laptop. “I know you’re not actually fine right now but-.” 
I ran a hand over my face, doing my best to keep my breathing calm and even. “I’ll be fine, I promise. It just fucking hurts.” 
Davis shifted on his feet, hesitation clear on his face. “Why? No disrespect to Y/N at all, you know I love her-we all do. But why did you choose to stay in touch? After all the hurt you’ve gone through.”
My vision was direct with his. “Because I’d rather have her from afar to make sure she’s alright than to not have her in my life at all. Besides, she’s going through a lot of shit, something no one should go through alone. I won’t let her.” 
A grin spread across his face and he nodded. “I knew it. I just wanted to hear you admit it. But you need to end this shit with Bailey.” 
“I already did.” 
“Fuck,” Davis’ eyes widened. “Finally. How did she take it?” 
I nervously rubbed the back of my neck. “That’s the thing, she didn’t answer. I left her a voicemail.” 
“A voicemail? Damn, do you think she got the message?” Davis wondered while be began cleaning up the mess. 
I, instead, began making another sandwich for Y/N, knowing she’d be here soon. “I fucking hope so. If not, then she’s probably testing me to see if I’d change my mind.” 
“But you won't, right?” 
I snorted. “Fat chance.”
Davis turned towards me, drying his hands on a towel. “So you broke up with Bailey. What’s the next step with Y/N?” 
“I need to talk to her first. There’s a lot we need to talk about,” I said while pulling out a cold can of Dr. Pepper from the fridge. 
“Hey, that’s the last one,” he exclaimed. 
I merely shrugged while setting a place at the kitchen table for Y/N. “It’s for Y/N.” 
Davis, as much as he tried to be upset, chuckled. “In all seriousness, Noah, you know we’re here to support you. We have your back.” 
I smiled at one of my best friends. “I know.” 
Just then a knock sounded on the front door and before Davis could answer it, I quickly closed the short distance and opened it with a smile; only for it to drop seeing Y/N standing on the other side with a frown. 
“What’s wrong?” I questioned while allowing her to step inside and led her to Davis’ kitchen. 
“Chase’s birthday is on Friday and the venue I booked for it just canceled on me. Something about a pipe bursting and the room is flooded,” she exasperated while falling into the chair at the table. 
“What are you going to do?” I questioned while sitting across from her. 
Davis joined us at the table, taking the coconut water from Y/N with a small smile. 
“Thankfully since they have to cancel, I get my deposit back but Malcolm is freaking out,” she waved her phone around. “We have two days to figure out somewhere new for this surprise party.” 
“You can have it at my place,” I suggested. 
Y/N took a long drink of her soda. “Are you sure? Don’t you think you should talk with the rest of the guys first?” 
I snatched a chip off her plate and shrugged. “They won’t mind.” 
“Sei un tesoro, mochi,” she patted my cheek. 
Davis choked on his drink and my eyes snapped over to him. “I don’t want to hear it!” 
He held up his hands. “I didn’t hear anything.”
Y/N smirked before taking the first bite of her sandwich and groaned. “Oh shit, this is good. No wonder you won, Noah.” 
With a prideful smirk, I motioned to the rest of her plate. “Finish up. I’ll call the guys and have them meet here and we can plan Chase’s party.” 
At one point, Davis left to take Max for a walk, leaving Y/N and I alone. We sat silently and enjoyed the world around us. This has taken a lifetime to learn. It seemed only the old could sit next to one another, not say anything, and still feel content. The young, brash, and impatient, must always break the silence. It’s a waste, for silence is pure. Silence is holy. It draws people together because only those who are comfortable with each other can sit without speaking. This is the great paradox.
“Oh, I never noticed the great view Davis has,” Y/N mused while pushing away her empty plate. 
Realizing it was almost time for the sun to set, I quickly cleaned up for her and motioned towards the back door. 
“Let’s go sit outside for a bit, yeah?” I suggested. 
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READER
Noah and I sat comfortably on the patio bench, a blanket draped over both of our legs as we stared out at the vast greens of Davis’ backyard. The sky was painted in bright oranges with hints of pink and purple. Silently, I thought to myself that I should have brought my art supplies, noting this would be a beautiful experience to paint. 
The silence between Noah and I was comforting, something you don’t find all that often. People always needed to talk rather than just listen to the world around them. The way the birds chirped, the faint noises of evening traffic, or the sound of the wind as it blew a chilly breeze. 
“Angel?” 
I hummed while looking over towards Noah. 
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Is there-I don’t know-anything you really want besides music right now?”
“I want a studio, with giant canvas’, paint; just an art studio galore! I’ve gotten into the hobby and love it,” I answered with a bright smile. “I was even thinking of using some of my art for the album artwork. Just playing with ideas.”
Noah’s smile matched mine as he let his hair loose from the hair tie, letting it fall to his shoulders in waves. “I love that you found something else you’re so passionate about, angel.”
“I love painting. I really do,” I leaned farther back against the couch and rested my head against it. 
“So paint. You should do whatever your heart desires, Y/N.” 
“Thank you, mochi” I nudged him. 
Noah rested his head against the couch, inches away from mine as another thought came to mind. 
“You know,” I started with a long sigh. “When I was a kid, I would have given anything to be exactly like everybody else” 
“You wanted to be petty and dishonest?“ He joked.
“Not everyone is like that,” I defended with a shake of my head. 
“Yes they are,” Noah retorted back. “But not you. You’re not like that.” 
This had me sitting up straighter, Noah following me. “How do you know what I’m like?”
“I see you,” He shifted closer to me, hand brushing across my knee over the blanket. “I’ve seen you for a long time. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met”.
My heart beat widely in my chest, the noise deafening in my ears and I cleared my throat. 
“I think you are too. If I’m being honest, I think I’ve always sorta known that,” I admitted. 
“You know,” Noah’s hand rested on my knee. “With me bouncing between homes and couches growing up, I always thought I’d be alone. I’d never expected to have such an amazing group of friends.” 
“Sometimes maybe it’s better to be alone,” I shrugged while looking past his shoulder to an older couple watching in the neighborhood. 
“Why do you say that?”
I still kept my gaze off Noah, voice dropping low. “Nobody can hurt you.”
“Y/N,” Noah sighed and lifted my chin so I could meet his intense gaze. “I would never, ever hurt you.”
Those eyes. I’ve dreamed of those eyes almost every night since our first meeting so long ago. I won’t say I’m in love, not out loud, but I am. I came to terms with that a while ago. 
“I know, mochi,” I finally whispered. 
Noah’s thumb traced over my jawline. “I understand why it’s hard for you, Y/N. But know that when I’m with you, I don’t feel alone.”
That magnetic pull that always seemed to connect us with that invisible string made me lean closer to him needing his warmth to envelop me. 
“I’ve never had this instant connection with anyone. I know you understand it too,” he continued. 
With my continued silence, Noah sat up straighter but kept his grip on my chin. “Are you freaked out? Because not hearing you say anything kind of-.” 
“Noah- no,” I rested my hands on his chest. “I feel it too.” 
His hand grasped the back of my neck now, tilting my head up towards him, as we began to lead in closer, and when his warm breath fanned over my lips, I let my eyes flutter shut. 
“Hey guys-oh shit.” 
Quickly pushing away from Noah, I peered over my shoulder to see Malcolm leaning against the back door. 
“We’re all inside ready to talk about the party. Whenever you two decide to grace us,” Malcolm winked before slipping back inside. 
Clearing my throat, I let the realization sink in what Noah and I were about to do. He’s with Bailey and I was ready to kiss him. I’m not this kind of person but yet here I was again being caught between him and my conscious. Bailey, as intrusive as she was, didn’t deserve this. 
Noah tried to bring me back to him but I quickly stood up, giving us more space. 
“We can’t do this. Not again,” my hair shook widely around my shoulders. “It’s not fair to Bailey.” 
“I ended it.” 
I blinked. “Wha-Oh? You did?” 
As ecstatic as I was hearing this, I did my best to hide it. I didn’t want Noah to know inside I was jumping for fucking joy; like a kid on Christmas that received the toy they’d been wanting. 
Noah stood from the couch now, standing in front of me. “I think Bailey saw me as Noah on the big screen, not me the person and after everything at that dinner I just knew it was time.” 
“I’m-I’m sorry,” I stammered, not knowing what else to say. 
His brows furrowed. “Why? It wasn’t serious. There wasn’t that connection; like the one we have.” 
As my lips parted, it was Jesse now who interrupted us, taking a bite of the apple in his hand. “Are you guys coming or what?” 
Noah cursed while running a hand through his hair and I shakily pointed over his shoulder. 
“We should head inside. Talk about this party.” 
Not wanting to spend another second out here, afraid to finally give in to the thoughts that were screaming at me, I gently brushed past him to return inside.
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GREEK TRANSLATIONS:
Koukla-doll
Kouklamou- my doll
“Giatí échei makriá malliá?”- Why does he have long hair?
"Eísai apísteftos"-you're unbelievable
ITALIAN TRANSLATIONS:
Sei un tesoro-you're a sweetheart.
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dazai-ritualist · 11 days
Note
Omg ! I didn't think you'd actually respond !! We're gonna fly away from here is easily one of the best ones in the series!! It's so Twisted and disturbing but almost domestic... (Also tysm for including my name idea in your story, Idk where it came from, I just liked it and I appreciate you!) I digress. I've returned with a concept. Al almost always has a plan when he does something. I don't know where you want to go with the second child but this won't be too focused on that one...for now. I really liked how you interpreted Alastor being a weasel and weaseling his way back into the families life and was thinking about how many I wonder about if he has a plan right now, like not a long term one, obviously, but a very specific one for a 'short term'. Women back then, especially in the south weren't allowed to have bank accounts so finicial trapping works well in this case. Also just kinda the ability to turn their kids against her would be enough to terify me. People talk about the 1950's housewife, but oh my god, 1920's housewives were a new kind of depressed. I, personally, don't think Alastor is the type of physically abuse women. No, he's far too classy for that. Instead, like I said, I think he'd either use his status in their house to trap his wife. We were able to run away while we were pregnant and alone, but we have a child now...and would we be willing to leave our child with him? No, I don't think I would, personally. This was just me rambling. K, love u, currently hyperfixated on this au. Byeee !!!! _ Cherry Anon!
DON’T REALLY WANT NO TRUST FUND BABY
[before reading this, read the rest of the story!]
— seems as if alastor found out your little secret
— UR TOO SWEET I SC THIS ON MY IG STORY AND YAPPED TO MY BOY BSF FOR AN HOUR AB IT IM BLUSHING SO HARDDDD!! ABUSE WAS LIT MY LAST SOCIAL STUDIES LESSON FOR THE SCHOOL YEAR MY TCH YAPPED AB FINANCE SO HARD 🤭🤭
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being married to alastor, the radio show host is quite the sensation in your town. but, behind the closed curtains, alastor did things that would’ve made lucifer shake in his boots.
no, he didn’t hit you. his mother would kill him if he hit his wife. but, just because alastor never hit you, didn’t mean he didn’t abuse you.
he tormented you in the worst way possible, through noah. and now, emilia.
it’s been 3 years. your little emilia lives up to her name, a cute little girl who’s eager to win. and, little noah is now a big boy, double digits and all.
and, since you’ve returned back to his house, alastor has done nothing but twist your babies’ minds. ‘once upon a time, mama wanted to run away from daddy… so, she ran away and took big brother with her. daddy was sooo worried for mama and big brother though… daddy was able to track mama down, and took her home!’ he cooed to your daughter, bouncing her in his arms— with you right beside him!
you wanted to yell; scream. of course, emilia was too young to understand what alastor was saying. but, still— the fact that he was trying to tell your children that he was some sort of white knight who saved you from yourself. you wanted nothing less, but to snap that neck of his like a twig.
you really shouldn’t act so brashly though. to outsmart alastor, you have to think like him. think of what’s smarter in long run.
alastor was ‘kind’ enough to give you an allowance. $200 every week for groceries and whatever you may need. he’s even so kind as to let you have some ‘private bonding’ with noah and emilia as they accompany you to the farmer’s market.
thankfully, you had a father who wanted to make his little girl survived even without a husband. and so, you had to hear all of his ramblings about finance. saving about 45% each week for 3 years… was about $14,000!
if you saved just a little more, you’d be semi-financially independent until you can get a proper job to take care of your children. it was run-away money, so to speak.
you hid the money in noah’s room. after all, who would expect money there? especially $14,000? and, it worked, for a while. every monday, while you tucked him into bed, you brought the money with you and hid it behind his dresser.
until, what had seemed like a normal tuesday. you came home from the tailor’s, getting back a dress that noah accidentally tore. when you came home, it was only two hours after noon. and despite that, alastor was home.
“a-alastor..! what are you doing home so early? you have a broadcast in 2 hours…” you narrowed your eyes at alastor, on the floor with your children, many new toys surrounding them. “ah, darling! i decided to pick up our children early, and we may have splurged on our little shopping spree…” he smugly grinned. “oh..? where’d you get the money?” you raised your eyebrow, closing the door and laying your bearings on the dining table.
“funniest story ever, my love! there was a random stash of money in noah’s room! seems as if the tooth fairy came early!” he laughed. random stash of money in noah’s room..? “oh. i see.” your breath stopped for a minute, thinking of what kind of consequences could come from it.
“do you have any idea how that money landed there?” he side-eyed you, expecting a lie. “perhaps it was from the old owners? you know this house, there’s so many secrets in here.” you said. “i see… i suppose you are right, darling!” he giggled.
you were back on square one. financially dependent on your husband, if you could even call him ‘husband’. as you climbed up the stairs, you heard alastor whisper to your son. “you see that? momma lied. she got less talkative when papa asked her a question.”
this is what alastor’s been teaching your son. as much as you want to protest, you did lie.
oh, how much you wished for much more simpler times. playing with your baby boy in the kitchen as you make little treats together for his snack at school. and now, the boy alastor’s turning him into— a cunning sociopath, the lord only knows what he will teach your daughter.
this is just a minor setback, it has to be.
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velvet-vox · 18 days
Text
The russian worker drones family; murder drone's greatest small scale tragedy.
As long as I can recall there has never been in my mind a story quite as painful and heartbreaking and yet quite as engaging as the tragedy of Doll, Yeva, and her husband, who's lack of a clear name doesn't detract from the impact of this story or the death of the other two.
The last time such an emotional impact was left in my brain was with Noximilliem Coxen the Watchmaker from Wakfu, who I will assuredly make a comparison post with Doll, as they both hit extremely similar themes and ideas while still having such different execution and story beats that it almost makes you question why would you even compare them in the first place.
Tragedy is deceptively hard to write right and make meaningful, as just crippling your characters won't do, because at that point it just becomes drama porn and as boring as a low effort pre-schoolers program. Seemingly unfeasible in a show such as Murder Drones; an horror/comedy/romance where an abused child repaired and made friends with a robot only for said robot to cause the destruction of her planet and... something else.
Buckle up cause these robots emotions might not even be considered real inside the fictional setting but our pain allows what would otherwise be a pretty standard horror scenario to transcend into the bane of my existence as we take a look at the small, inconsequential tale of the russian worker drones family.
Yeva
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Starting off with Yeva as the oldest member of our family in terms of chronological relevance, we get our first peek into the way this story plays out due to Yeva being seemingly mute by choice or programming, which retroactively sets up the storytelling method used; Yeva doesn't speak a single word in this scene or the one that precedes it, but we still get a clear rendition of her character by her standoffish behaviour juxtaposed with her caring and nurturing nature, it's debatable whether or not her and Nori are sisters, but you wouldn't be blamed for thinking that judging by the way Yeva tends to Nori after the banishment of the solver, being chained up and experimented upon didn't stop her from staying positive in the midst of adversity and could theoretically be the reason why she was the only correctly patched drone in the facility.
During the V attack she sacrificed her own life in order to protect Doll. An act that, in the long run, ended up being whortless, but that cemented Yeva has an unyielding positive influence in a world stormed by negativity and death.
The father
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We know jack s##t about this man but that won't stop us from analysing him. The most interesting things about him are his relationship with Yeva and the fact that the picture of V seen in episode 2 was made by him. He's, admittedly, a white canvas for head cannons, but thematically he keeps a recurring motif that this post will touch upon in his final entry:
Doll
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And now, for the crown jewel of this family. The protagonist's dark reflection. Not many people can claim to have been messed up as hard as Doll was. Sure, death is still death, but with it comes a certain sense of finality and rest. Instead, by contrast Doll's death is so brutal and devastating because although it's something that she has been calling upon herself since she started to consume other drones for her goals, it's just so heartbreaking because she managed to achieve absolutely nothing despite being one step forward everyone else in the story; she never got better, never reademned herself, made their parents sacrifice worthless, died almost entirely off camera completely alone and scared, and as her last compensation act she managed to give Uzi a barely useful warning before having her probably still alive consciousness eaten by an eldritch atrocity. At the end of the day, she was deemed worthless by the main antagonist and quickly brushed aside.
And we go back to a certain reoccurring theme regarding this family: Yeva never speaks. Her husband is never given a name. Doll is literally a toy name. Their story plays out in the shadow of the main plot. Every single aspect regarding them paints their existence as worthless and inconsequential (classic eldritch horror), yet are given enough spotlight to leave an impact on us, to have their presence felt, and to give us the impression that, despite their bad luck, if they only took certain decisions in certain key moments, maybe they would have survived and received a much better ending than the one they got.
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thecoleopterawithana · 6 months
Text
Now and Then
1977
youtube
Now and Then: I know it's true / It's all because of you
And if I make it through / It's all because of you / And now and then / If we must start again / Well, we will know for sure / That I love you
I don't wanna lose you, oh no / Abuse you or confuse you / Oh no, no, sweet darlin' / But if you have to go away / If you have to go, well you the reason [?]
Now and then / I miss you / Oh, now and then / I want you to return to me / 'Til you return to me / I know it's true / It's all because of you / And if you go away / I know you could never stay
.
1978
youtube
Love Awake: Love awake to the day / When we can make our love awake / Lord knows we need it any time we can get it / But we forget it every now and then / But if you don't feel it, later on, you'll regret it / And if we let it we could set it free, you and me
.
1981
youtube
My Old Friend: If I told you how I feel / Oh, it wouldn’t sound so real / ‘Cause emotions, they are just now settin’ in / But it sure is great to know / That wherever we may go / We can always be the best of friends
My old friend, / Thanks for inviting me in / My old friend, / May this goodbye never mean the end / If we never meet again this side of life / In a little while, over yonder, / Where it’s peace and quiet / My old friend, / Won’t you think about me every now and then
.
Well, it was something that I’ll never live long enough to forget. It happened in February of 1981 and as the world all knows, and never will forget, in December of 1980 when John Lennon was taken away from us, and so this was the following year, in February. I wrote the song about and for Paul McCartney. I did it because he was so kind to invite me down to this beautiful island of Montserrat with Stevie Wonder. Ringo was there, just had a wonderful time. I flew down by myself. Paul and Linda met me with a jeep on the (center) airfield with a little single engine plane and took me across the mountains we were like kids again, and it was a wonderful time, and I wanted to do… I didn’t want to cry when I left after staying down there, and I’m a big crybaby! If something moves me, I’ll just choke up… I talk about it. I thought that would happen, so the night before, I just wrote how I felt on the isle of Montserrat on every shell, forget a country boy with a guitar and a song you invited me, and you treated me like kin, and you’ve given me a reason to go on. So my old friend, think about me every now and then. I sang it for Paul, at about 10:00 the next morning. I was scheduled to leave flying again in the little single engine aircraft to the island of Antigua where I was flying commercial back to Atlanta and on to Nashville and back to Jackson, where I live here. I sang it, he said “Carl, it’s beautiful… would you sing it again?” and I said. “Sure, man.” He said “wait just a minute,” and he got Linda in there, and they sat on the floor, I sat on his old Fender twin reverb amplifier, with a guitar, I did however notice a microphone over there. I didn’t pay that much attention to it, but George Martin recorded it and after I finished singing the song to Paul, he was crying, tears were rolling down his pretty cheeks, and they’re pretty to me just like they are to the rest of the world. I think he’s a very handsome boy and always did. He’s even handsomer when he’s crying. And Linda said, “Carl, thank you so much.” I said, “Linda, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you cry.” She said, “But he’s crying and he needed to. He hasn’t been able to really break down since that happened to John.” I mean he stepped outside of the room, out by the pool, and he just had his handkerchief out, and he was going at it. And she put her arm around me and said, “But how did you know?” I said, “Know what, Linda? I don’t know what you’re talking about?” She said “There’s two people in the world that know what John Lennon said to Paul, the last thing he said to him. Me and Paul are the only two that know that, but now there’s three and one of you… you know it. I said, “Girl, you’re freaking me out! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She said the last words that John Lennon said to Paul in the hallway of the Dakota building were… he patted him on the shoulder, and said, ‘Think about me every now and then, old friend.’ Q: That’s just amazing… And she said, here you are, that’s what you just sang, and how did you know? And I said I didn’t know it, gosh, I didn’t know it. But McCartney really feels that Lennon sent me that song, he really does.
— Carl Perkins, interviewed for Goldmine (September 26, 1986).
.
1994
Paul had gone to Yoko to ask if she had any of John’s songs kicking around. The deal was that Paul would induct John into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in return. Yoko’s a generous person in that respect, so she actually gave him three songs – 'Free As A Bird' and 'Real Love' were worked up and released, the last one wasn’t.
— Source close to the Anthology project, quoted in the Sunday Express (April 29, 2007).
.
1995
It was one day – one afternoon, really – messing with it. The song had a chorus but is almost totally lacking in verses. We did the backing track, a rough go that we really didn’t finish. It was sort of a bluesy sort of ballad, I suppose, in A minor. It was a very sweet song. I liked it a lot. Should it ever be completed it would probably end up as either ‘Now And Then’ or ‘Miss You’. I wished we could have finished it.
— Jeff Lynne, quoted in the Sunday Express (April 29, 2007).
It didn’t have a very good title, it needed a bit of reworking, but it had a beautiful verse and it had John singing it. [But] George didn’t like it. The Beatles being a democracy, we didn’t do it.
— Paul McCartney, interviewed for Q Magazine (November 2006).
.
2007
There are a couple of things which may surface at some point. You see, with the Beatles, there’s always a surprise somewhere along the line. We did ‘Free As A Bird’ and ‘Real Love’, those two songs of John’s, and that was very exciting, very moving for me and very comfortable having his voice in my headphones in the studio again. And there was a third track, another song we had our eyes on called ‘Now And Then’. l actually wanted to do it on Anthology 3, but we didn’t all agree. But things change and the thing is that it might not go away. There was only one of us who didn’t want to do it. lt would have meant a lot of hard work, the song would have needed a lot of re-writing and people would have had to be very patient with us. But there are these one or two things lurking in the bushes. The Beatles might just raise their ugly little heads again…
— Paul McCartney, quoted in the Sunday Express (April 29, 2007).
.
2012
And there was another one we started working on, but George went off it. We were like, ‘No George, this is John’. He said, ‘It’s still rubbish’. ‘Ok, then’. So that one is still lingering around. I’m gonna nick it with Jeff and do it. Finish it, one of these days.
— Paul McCartney, interviewed for the “Mr Blue Sky: The Story of Jeff Lynne & ELO” documentary (2012).
.
2018
youtube
Get Enough: It was a time when we walked by the docks / I told you, "I need you all of my life" / And watching the tugs rolling by together / Do you remember? / Do you remember the lights on the shore? / How they reflected the rain on the road? / I believed that you love me alone / It was real / Do you remember? / Now and then I see your face / I've been wanting a lovin’ embrace / I've been looking for love, but it gets me nowhere / Oh, yeah, yeah
Get enough, get enough, get enough of (Your love) (x2) / I can't get enough of / Of you
It was a time we were all full of hope / Saw the future burning bright / As we watched the moon rollin’ out to sea / Do you remember? / But those days are erased from my mind / Yeah, I've left all those old days behind / But still I remember your face forever, forever
.
If I'm going to see a face in a painting, it's highly likely to be his.
— Paul McCartney, interviewed by Diane Sawyer for ABC News (November 2, 2000).
.
2022
And then 'Now and Then’ just kind of languished in a cupboard and we didn’t do anything with it. I kept saying, “You know, maybe we should do something with this, seems a bit—” “Hm, I don’t know…” There wasn’t a great desire to do anything with it. So it hung around for a while. Years! And every so often, I’d kind of go to the cupboard and think, “There’s a new song in there! We should do it! We gotta do it!” But it’d go back in the cupboard.
— Paul McCartney, in BBC Sounds Eras: The Beatles (November 2, 2023).
I got a phone call from Paul saying, “Is it possible to use that [MAL] technology for another project I’ve been thinking about? […] Would it be possible to take John’s vocal and clean it up and get rid of everything else? Because that would allow us to finish this Beatles song.” And absolutely, it didn’t take me more than about a second to get back to him and say, “Of course we can do it!”
— Peter Jackson, in BBC Sounds Eras: The Beatles (November 2, 2023).
.
2023
youtube
Now and Then: I know it’s true / It’s all because of you / And if I make it through / It’s all because of you
And now and then / If we must start again / Well we will know for sure / That I will love you
Now and then / I miss you / Oh now and then / I want you to be there for me / Always to return to me
I know it’s true / It’s all because of you / And if you go away / I know you’ll never stay
Now and then / I miss you / Oh now and then / I want you to be there for me
I know it’s true / It’s all because of you / And if I make it through / It’s all because of you
.
I do feel as though ‘Now and Then’ is a love letter to Paul written by John. I mean, I've never really asked Paul about it, and I'm not sure whether Paul would say, ‘Oh, that's definitely it,' because he wouldn't want to second guess John. But that's the sense I get. And I get the feeling that's why Paul was so determined to finish it.
— Giles Martin, interviewed for PEOPLE magazine (October 26, 2023).
When you say you enjoy 'Now and Then', that’s really nice, because that’s why we do it. We do it so people can listen to stuff and not just hear it. 'Now and Then' sounds like a love song. It sounds like a song that John wrote for Paul, and the other Beatles: “I miss you/ Now and then.” It sounds like Paul has gone there, which I think he did. You know, no one told Paul to go and do it, and Paul didn’t go, This would be a great exercise for the Red and Blue Album. He was at home in the studio. He dug on the record and started working on it, because it’s his mate. And he really misses John. I mean, that’s the truth. They broke up, and John died nine years later. It really isn’t very long.
— Giles Martin, interviewed for GRAMMYS (October 26, 2023).
.
When I remember the Beatles, I remember the joy, the talent, the humor, the love. And I think, if people remembered us for that — for those things — I’d be very happy.
— Paul McCartney, in BBC Sounds Eras: The Beatles (November 2, 2023).
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insomniakisses · 11 months
Note
Reader comforting aegon cuz he's just so broken after the treatment he's been through 🤠
A Lovers Comfort
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Character: Aegon Targaryen (HOTD)
Warnings/Notes: mentions of parental neglect/abuse, Viserys slander, mild Alicent slander (i love her tho), soft hubby Aegon, your Rhaenyra's daughter (you can chose adopted or not), war doesnt happen, aemond still looses his eye.
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When you where first told you where to marry Aegon you were worried to say the least. Having heard many stories from your brothers and mother, not to mention the not so fond memories of him when you were all kids. But it had been years now, surely he had matured into a man? Perhaps he hadn't with the outrage you could see of your mother's face, your whole family's faces.
Yes, your mother had long ago proposed Jace marry Helaena, to solidify the bonds between the greens and blacks. But to her this? This was different. You were her baby, her only girl and she couldn't let them take you from her. Make you bare his children. No she had to stop this.
Which led to now, all of you on dragon back heading to kingslanding. Your mother and Daemon leading on Syrax and Caraxes, while you and your brothers followed. Being greeted by the king and queen upon landing you remained silent as you were all led inside.
There you watched as your mother and Daemon enter the council meetings room along with the king and Alicent, Your brothers being sent to the training grounds and Aemond accompanying his wife, Helaena back to their chambers with a soft nod to you. Leaving you alone with a half drunken Aegon.
"You don't want me." he laughs, deeply amused at the scrunch of you face when he slumps in the seat next to you. "You've never liked me, no one does"
Rolling your eyes you take the wine from his hand, pushing him back in his seat. "Your family likes you Aegon, your mother, surely" your voice is short, seemingly bored of his presence already. Not something he's unused to.
"No.. They don't like me" It comes out soft, and barely audible but you hear him. It makes you turn slightly, staring at him unsure of how to proceed. Your heart aches and you find yourself reaching for his hands, the action makes him look up unshed tears filling his eyes.
"Father does not care for me, us. he spent so long wanting sons and dreamers yet now he finds himself with two songs and a dreamer in my sister and he still views your mother as his only child." You wince at that, sure you had seen it growing up you weren't blind to the kings dismissal of his children or fondness of your mother. you had no idea just how little he cared.
"Your mother must love you though, i've seen her with Aemond she seems rather loving?" Your carful with your words not wanting to offend your prince its his laugh that startles you. "I am no son of hers, she made that clear after aemond lost his eye. He and Helaena are all that she cares for. I'm just her drunken, ungrateful son."
You understand him now, understand his anger, his drinking. He's hurt and lost and crying out for help when no ones bothered to listen. You feel yourself move towards him, unsure why, you pull him into a hug.
He nuzzles his head into your neck and releases a breath he didn't know he was holding, letting his eyes close and his body relax in your hold. "I'll marry you." his head shoots up at your words, confused as to why you would give your life to him. "But, reduce the drinking. You don't have to stop, just drink less okay?"
"Okay." He smiles then, a true genuine smile and you lean down to press a soft kiss to his nose laughing when he scrunches up his face in protest. "Good. I'll hold you to that."
Feeling him hum against you, you move to run your hands through his hair. "Ser Christen, please in form my mother and the rest of the council that the meeting need not proceed as Aegon and I are accepting the terms of our betrothal."
"Of course Princess."
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Should this be a series?
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ya9amicide · 1 year
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Redamancy [BTS]
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chapter one
♡ info ♡ k-pop masterlist ♡ next chapter ♡
summary: Hybrids were accepted in society to a certain degree. To some, they are for entertainment. Used as sex and money tools. To lock up and abuse whenever and however they please. Something to have control over. To others, they are companions. Just like regular animals are used for therapy or simply companionship, hybrids are too.
To the rest, they are just like everyone else. Someone with their own life who deserves the same freedoms as your everyday John or Jane Doe. Wren is one of these people. She hates the idea of owning a hybrid. She has nothing against those who own them for medical or companionship reasons. Just the rest.
But, when a ragtag pack of seven mismatched hybrids somehow ends up in the woods behind her home, she takes them in and does the one thing she never thought she would do. Own them. But, she also does something she didn't even think was possible. She fell in love with each and every one of them.
pairing(s): ot7 x ot7, ot7 x oc
warnings: none
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Most hybrids come from Asian countries because of the ethereal beauty they possess. For most, that is the only asset that keeps them alive. The way most of these hybrids end up in other countries is if they are sold to someone and brought there. Now, the entire world has hybrids mixed into its population.
Being a writer, I always get asked why I haven't written anything about hybrids. For a fantasy writer, it's like the jackpot of writing material considering they actually exist and all the information I would need is right at my fingertips if I want it to be.
It's just something that never sat right with me. I don't know everything and the only way to know everything is to speak to one myself. I don't own a hybrid. I won't own a hybrid. I have nothing against people who own them as long as they are treating them with care. But, I just don't feel comfortable interrogating someone for the purpose of a story.
Hybrids have very unique, very personal aspects to their lives that other people don't have. It would be like asking the deepest most personal questions about someone's life. It's unfathomably uncomfortable.
Luckily, I can escape the demands for hybrid content when I'm teaching. Teaching Greek mythology to college students has its perks in that regard. Which, leads me to where I am now, wrapping up my lecture for the day.
"Alright everyone, don't forget your homework for the weekend." Some students groan at the back of the room. I stand from behind my desk, walking around to the front where I lean against it with my hip. "Yes, yes, I know. Just be thankful you get a whole weekend for it, your other professors probably wouldn't be so nice. Now, any questions?"
Two hands raise in the air and I call on the first one to come up. "How many sources did we need to cite again?"
"At least three," I say. "You can use more if you'd like, I have no issue with that. However, I hope I don't need to remind you which types of websites aren't credible sources?"
Everyone shakes their heads and I nod, calling on the next person. "Will there be any time to come in to ask questions about our papers before Monday?"
"To come in, no. Unfortunately not. However, if you'd like you can email me with any questions you have or just send me a draft and I can read it for you and give you feedback that way. I will try to get back to you asap if I can. Just please do not email me Monday morning or late Sunday night as I will be asleep and it will be too late for you."
When I finish speaking everyone shuffles in their seats. "Any more questions?" When nobody else speaks up, I lean upright from my position in front of my desk. "If that's all then you are all free to go. Have a good weekend." I receive goodbyes from almost every student as they leave. Once the last one does, I shuffle all of my belongings together and leave the room, locking the door.
On my way home, it starts to rain. It's been in the forecast all week but it was only supposed to be a slight drizzle. This, however, is a torrential downpour. Pulling into my driveway and parking, I brace myself to make a run for it. There's no way I won't get drenched.
Walking inside, I toe off my shoes and drop my things by the door before going upstairs to change into warm and comfy clothes for the evening. Walking into the kitchen for food, I pass the large, sliding glass doors that lead to my backyard and the woods behind my house.
Cereal for dinner sounds good. With a bowl of dry cereal in one hand and a glass of milk in the other, I make my way to the living room. On the way, I pass by the glass door again. Lighting strikes, lighting up the yard and the woods in the distance. In the treeline, I almost swear I can see an animal. It's not super big, but it's not small either. Surprisingly, even with the woods bordering my house, not many animals make their way out. so, seeing one now is slightly odd.
I set my food down on the coffee table and move back to the kitchen, making a plate of food for...whatever is out there. If it's in the woods in a storm like this, it must be hungry. Sliding open the glass door, I set the plate down on the porch under the awning and move back inside where I sit on the couch with my own food and the tv playing in front of me.
I'm around two episodes into the show I was watching when I hear footsteps on the back porch. They're small but loud enough for me to hear through the rain which has settled down into a soft drizzle. Standing, I make my way to the door, trying to keep my steps light and my posture open so whatever is out there doesn't feel threatened by me.
When I'm close enough to see what it is, I find a German Shepherd right before it shifts and a man is left in its place. My hand reaches out for the door handle when he sees me. His eyes widen and he scrambles to pocket all of the food and make a run for the woods.
I quickly open the door trying to stop him. "Wait, please! You don't have to go." He freezes in his steps, halfway off the porch. "I- I can give you more food if that isn't enough. And some water too if you want?" He's thin and pale and shaking like a leaf where he stands. "Please?" My voice is soft, I'm afraid if I speak too loud he'll run away. "I just want to help."
It feels like we stare at each other for hours before he nods his head, barely enough for me to see but it's still a nod. "Okay, okay that's good," I say and lead him inside. "Let me get you a towel so you can dry off, you must be cold." I don't wait for him to respond before I rush off to get it. When I come back, he's in the same spot I left him.
"Here," I hand him the towel and watch as he wraps it around himself. Slowly, his shivering starts to calm down. "Do you have any preferences?"
He looks at me strangely, head tilting to the side. The ears on the top of his head flop to the side softly, the fur wet. "To eat? Is there anything in particular you want? Anything I should avoid?" He seems to take a minute to process what I asked him before he slowly shakes his head. "Okay. You can um...you can come wait in the kitchen while I get you something if you want."
He timidly walks in behind me and watches everything I do. I decided on soup. Hopefully, the warmth from the food would make him feel better. "Is it just you?" I ask timidly.
"No," he says softly after some hesitation.
"Are- are they close? Whoever you're with?"
"Yes."
I pause what I'm doing. Maybe I should make more soup..."How many of you are there?" How much food am I going to need to make?
He shifts uncomfortably. "Seven. Including me."
"Do they want to come in? You can invite them if you want." I avoid looking at him, continuing to make more food.
"What?" He sounds surprised and wary.
"Only if you want. I mean," I stop and chuckle slightly, "seven versus one? If I were to try anything, which I won't, I think you all have the advantage. Don't you think?"
He waited for a few minutes, probably trying to see if I was pulling his leg. "Okay." He slowly makes his way to the sliding door, I can feel his eyes on me, keeping me in his sight. Leaving the door open, he shifts back into a German Shepherd and lets out a loud howl towards the forest. Anything else beyond that, I don't hear because of the volume of the storm raging outside. It was around 15 minutes before he came back inside, several pairs of footsteps shuffling in behind him.
I freeze, gently putting down what was in my hands before slowly turning to face the group of hybrids in my home.
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cottoncandy-cult · 7 months
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Smoker x Wife! Reader
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Smoker sat in silence as he watched his wife sleep, the swaying of the boat had her sleeping rather deeply on this night. But right now, sleep eluded the silver fox, he had woken up a half hour before this moment and after laying there he determined he would do some of the paperwork he had put off til tomorrow. Unfortunately, he couldn't focus, he didn't know what it was that stood in his way of sleeping but it was starting to bug him.
With a sigh he turned back to his desk, fixing himself two cigars as he tried once more to read the monochrome pages. That didn't last long though, two thin arms curling around his neck as he felt someone rest their head on his. He didn't need to see the stray strands of (H/c) to tell him it was his wife; she was the only one bold enough to touch him without permission. She was the only one with that right. She didn't see a high ranking a marine, she just saw a man who needed someone to keep him grounded. "Did the light from the candles wake you?" His voice was gruff, having sat in silence since waking his voice was slightly deeper than usual.
"No, I couldn't get comfortable without you." He turned to face her, she released him and backed up only to be tugged into his lap. She didn't spare a second before she snuggled up to him, he may not have seemed like an affectionate man but if his angel wanted love, he'd never deny her. He was a proud man; he took pride in his love for this woman and was secure enough that he had no problem telling people where to go. Though they were both mature enough to refrain from hard core PDA, she was a military wife and understood his duties.
He muttered a low apology, using his free hand to move her hair from her face and stroke her cheek. "I woke and couldn't sleep, I thought I'd get some work done..." She giggled as he glanced back at the shuffled papers, pressing a soft kiss to his exposed chest. He was sleeping in a pair of loose black pants; she was in one of his shirts and her underwear. The weather of the area they were in was rather nice even at night, so they were able to sleep pretty comfortably. "You know our anniversary is coming up... We'll have been married 5 years in a week." She spoke softly, giving him a sweet smile.
He chuckled a bit as he looked down to his wife, he had been thinking a lot and found that the life of a marine has left him wanting. He has seen the hypocrisy of those around him, he could see the corruption and false justice that had begun growing and the toxicity that been there from the start. He begun to question what he was doing at this point, if he was really one of the good guys at this point. Especially since it's becoming more common that he comes across Marines abusing their power, he had yet to tell her. But he was considering resigning, the thought of taking her away to beautiful little island had begun growing more and more appealing. They could start a family; he'd make sure their home was safe. Even if it meant running off anyone who tried to cause trouble on the island.
"Yeah, I know, I think you'll like the gift I have..." The longer he gazed into her eyes the more solid his idea became; he'd make sure they had a true home by the time of their anniversary. He also planned to make sure he gave her the family she wanted; he'd give her everything she had been denied because of his wasted dedication to a failing system. (Can you feel my disdain for the world government yet?)
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skrifores · 4 months
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I have seen the point being made that you don’t have to be in a romantic relationship for some behaviour to constitute domestic violence. I’m seeing this said with regards to Our Flag Means Death and what some people perceive as domestic abuse on Ed’s part - that him not being romantically involved with Izzy shouldn’t mean behaviour between can’t be considered domestic abuse.
It is an excellent point that in many places, the definition of domestic abuse isn’t restricted to intimate partners! It is often widened to consider any violence, coercion and emotional harm taking place within a home environment. Under this definition, children can be victims of domestic abuse by their parents, it can occur between siblings, even roommates - especially with a live-in landlord situation. And of course, the Revenge as well as being a workplace is ultimately where the characters live.
I think it’s very clear that the show is a workplace comedy about pirates, but if you want to apply the definition of violence, coercion and emotional harm within a home environment to your reading to the show, that can be done.
Of course, I would be surprised if you genuinely view it that way and still made it as far as even watching Season 2, given the way what you consider to be domestic abuse in this fictional setting happens so very often with little to no moral consequence, and is often intended to be taken as a joke.
I mean. In the very first episode, the crew talk about killing Stede, and begin to plan for this, including lighting him on fire.
Jim threatens Lucius and actually physically locks him in a small wooden box in the second episode for what seems to be quite a long time.
I think in 4, Izzy pulls on Fang’s beard and it really upsets him. He also talks pretty openly about the intention to kill the Revenge crew, though I’ll let that go at this stage since he doesn’t really live there so much as being there for the purpose of murdering them and stealing their stuff. Still, poor Fang, that looked like it hurt.
While we’re on Izzy, he does also actively try to kill Stede by stabbing him, and he then he goes and does the olde worlde equivalent of calling the cops on him on the intention of having him executed, which seems pretty fucked up on the ‘violence’ part of our DA definition but also hits pretty hard on coercive control since he’s doing this to get Ed to behave differently.
He does prevent the Navy from executing Ed, which is nice, but he does point out that he regrets this, which, ouch, emotional harm. If we’re doing real world definitions, “I should’ve let the cops I called on you murder you” is the sort of thing that would make me feel pretty fucked up. And we all know what it means when someone tells you to watch your step.
But it’s not all about Izzy! (It’s really not, guys, there’s a whole TV show here!) Buttons bites Lucius - who ends up needing the whole finger gone! And he’s a visual artist!
Even my darling man Roach tries to eat the Swede, and I’ve gotta say, I don’t think they were on that island long enough to justify murder.
And who could forget Mary?? Wonderfully written character, love her, but, she does with malice aforethought attempt to kill her spouse in his sleep with a skewer. She was right to do it, in my opinion, but y’know, even without broadening the definition beyond partner relationships, murder of your spouse is pretty classic domestic abuse.
So, y’know, the point I’m getting at really is that if your definition of domestic abuse is violence and control wherein the perpetrator and victim share a significant aspect of their lives like living space - that’s a fine definition in real life. It is the one I use, in real life. But if you apply it to Our Flag Means Death, I really don’t understand how you stomached watching the first season or why you came back for more.
And if you only apply this definition with regards to Ed’s behaviour, but not the rest of the characters, I do wonder why that might be.
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chalkrevelations · 9 months
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There are things I say to my partner in the privacy of our living room when I’m blowing off steam that I would never in my life say to friends or other family members or bosses or work colleagues or fellow community members. I do this not because I’m two-faced but because I’m human. I get frustrated, but I’m also a grownup who realizes that my frustrations and fears in that moment are not the entirety of who I am. I have a right to express them, but I do not have the right to inflict them on the people who would be hurt by them. That’s why those conversations happen in private, in a safe space of trust, where my relationship allows me to show my partner parts of me that aren’t perfect and allows my partner to show me that I don’t have to be perfect in order to deserve to be cared about. I get support through my petty moments until I can be a better person.
This latest attack on Build is a horrifying violation of privacy and trust that leaves me feeling literally nauseated. I once again reiterate that I don’t trust third-hand amateur fan translation to be accurate and contextual, particularly given the provenance of the material, but Build himself is apparently distressed enough by at least some part of the material to make a public apology. So, that being out there, I will say: This was a private matter that should have stayed private, out of respect for everyone involved. Whatever was actually said is nobody’s business except Build’s and now, unfortunately, any named individuals who this was inflicted on and who may have been hurt by it. Which, rest assured, was the intention - to hurt not only Build with this, but also, particularly, Apo and Bible, both of whom Poi has shown her dislike of and ill-will toward in the past. I suspect some people also don’t know how abuse works, and it shows, given that what was purportedly said is a reflection of Poi’s own views back at her.
Whatever the context, I see that purity cancel culture still insists on freezing people in amber in their worst moments - without recognition of any capacity for change or growth - as long as it provides ammunition for a smug, gleeful Particicution. You’re stuck on some unkind things Build supposedly said more than a year ago? Let me tell you what I’ll remember for the rest of my life: The small, broken sound of Build’s voice just a few months ago as he tried to protect Bible and Bible’s career from a sociopath, in a telephone call that he felt he needed to secretly record as evidence of how he was being manipulated and abused.
Meanwhile, I see that swathes of KP fandom continue to be complicit in Poi’s campaign of public and dehumanizing abuse of him, which now includes not only borderline revenge porn, but separating him from his friends and isolating him. This is what abuse looks like. It’s happening in front of your eyes. Do you even care? Do you actually, legitimately care about abuse, or is it just a tool for you to use to win petty shipwars and make yourself feel righteous? Because here it is. Take a good look. This is a textbook play. And if you’re participating in reposting those screenshots of private conversations and mocking Build’s relationships and spreading vituperative language about him and acting like he deserves to have his life and career destroyed, you’re enabling an abuser. You are aiding and abetting her, as the very scenario she threatened him with - in order to maintain access to him, to keep him under control and compliant - continues to get spun out. YOU are a bully and a hypocrite and an abuser, helping to prove that the most dangerous time for an abuse victim is when they leave.
But I guess some victims do have to be perfect, huh?
.
(ETA: 7/18/23, 1520 - This post is being linked on Twitter by @cherryluminary with my permission. I'm not over there, but I increasingly feel like it's important to name what's happened, and continues to happen, to Build online as what it is - abuse. Similar to to my last post that breached containment, I'm going to ask people to remember that the behavior of Build's fans reflects on him - however fair that may or may not be - and should remain above reproach. I understand being angry - I'm angry, and at more people than I've discussed publicly, at this point. But if I find out you've been descending anywhere near the level of the ugly little sociopath in my inbox who openly admitted they want Build to kill himself, I'll block you.)
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meo-on-prairie · 7 months
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Pro-gamer!Gojo, Geto, Sukuna, and Toji
Writing this on my phone because life been putting me thru a meat grinder and i dont have the time to write an actual fic so i'mma ramble about the fic i been writing in my head when i dissociated
Imagine e-sport AU JJK
Youre a girl that's joining a 5 members first person shooter esport team call Curse Technique (CTQ) cuz women respresantation in esport fucking damn it
Your teammates are Gojo (Sixeyes), Geto (spiriteater), Sukuna (malevolent), and Toji (topji)
Theyre all streamers turn pro-gamers and are the most cocky bastard alive. The have never lose a single tournament ever since the game launched.
They got scouted by CTQ organizations from their stream when the game first launch
They fight each other for the second position on the leader board.
Note how i say second
Because someone with the in-game name KandyCat have the top position. Undefeated. Many have tried. But they cant even come close to thag ranking score
And goddamn did the 4 of them tried. They did a 1 week subathon with the sole purpose of tryna take the number 1 spot. They got their ass handed to them by said KandyCat in their solo rank games. So they temporarily gave up.
They always curios who this KandyCat is tho, becaude they are not a streamer, there are nothing about them on the internet beside the fact that theyre number one on the game leaderboard.
Over times, their curiosity and completitiveness against KandyCat before some sort of admiration and obsession. They really want to know who this person is and learn from them.
Now let's talk about when the team manager introduced you to them.
They thought you were their new assistant. They were expecting their last teamate would be another well known streamer or pro-player
The disbelief on their face when your manager said "this is y/n, she's your 5th member and also will be your in-game leader"
You almost let out a snicker
They threw a tantrum. That's for sure. Not cuz youre a girl. It's cuz theyre prideful as fuck
They cant fathom how a literal no body, someone they never heard of before, be their leader?!? Theyre literally the top 5 players of the game. Impossible. No. If leader is one of them, the rest will be bitter but they still relinquish. But their leader is someone they have never heard of before??? They wont stand for this
No. They refused "she can be our leader if she can beat all 4 of us in 1v1s" sukuna scoff and for the first time theyre all in agreement about something.
"Sure!" You said "let's make it more fun by placing a bet, whoever win get a wish from the loser"
Your manager, nanami, just sigh a long sigh and let yall duke it out on the game.
You logged into your account (y/n0nt0p) and gojo immediate poke fun of you "after this you should chsnge it to y/nthebottom"
They were all so confident. Already thinking of what their wish gonna be.
LOL MAN DID THEY GOT THEIR ASS HANDED TO THEM
They could not even land a shot on you
For the first time in their career they went negative on their Kill Death ratio. It was tragic. You were abusing mechanic they have never seen before. Taking angle they didnt know exist. Shooting through wall they didnt know were made out of paper.
They were floored
Complete. Utter. Defeated.
"How?" Toji, the last one to went against you, ask in disbelief.
" You surely dont think this is my main account right? I dont even have any cosmetic on here" you said with a smirk, hinting to them that this isnt the account you will be competing under.
Nanami let out another sign, he need painkiller after this "if you would let me finish introduced her before throwing a tantrum, you coulda save your pride." He said while shaking his head "y/n will be competing under an alias "KandyCat" or Cat, she specifically put in the contract that she does not want her identity to be out in the public including her appearance so----"
"KANDYCAT?!" Gojo shouted cutting nanami off once again.
"The. KandyCat??? Number one player on the leader board. That KandyCat?" Getou said, not believing his ears
Poor men.... theyre going thru so many shocking things in one day. It's like their word just got turned upside down.
Honestly, i havent thoughts about it after this but it would be fun to be like a choose your own adventure fic. Where they all fell head over heel for you over the course of the competitive season.
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ellieclaireblack · 9 months
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sanctuaire | sanctuary
sanctuary | noun your safe and peaceful haven a comforting place of refuge and rest in a noisy, chaotic world
{brother's best friend | fem!reader x james potter} ⪼ word count: 2k ⪼ warnings: mentions of abuse 
part one: back home
story: sanctuaire | sanctuary
playlist
Kreacher was calling for me. Again.
“I'm coming. I’m coming” I made my way down the stairs into the dining room of 12 Grimmauld Place. 
Today was January 4th 1976. Christmas Break was over and we would head back to Hogwarts. We consisted of Regulus and me. Since Sirius ran away during the holiday. An act I still didn’t forgive him for even though I understood why he did it. From the day he’d been sorted into Gryffindor my twin had a hard life. 
Walburga, Orion and Reggie were seated at the table when I joined them. 
“Good morning, father, mother, brother.” I greeted them politely and sat next to Reg. 
“Bonjour mon cher [Good morning my dear]” Papa greeted me in French. Walburga just looked up and nodded at me. Regulus opted for a small smile.
Out of my parents I loved my father, but Walburga was directly spit out from hell. Papa just never said anything against my mother. However she was rarely present anyway. The days she was home were horrendous.
Everyone tended to their meals and silence filled the room. That’s how it was: no talking at the table. I was glad to get back to school today. 
I missed my friends and I missed Sirius - even though I was still mad at him I longed to talk to my twin. He’s always been the person who understood me best. There was a lot unresolved between us. His unannounced departure during a stormy winter night made life at home a lot harder.
Walburga blamed me that the heir of ‘The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black’ vanished and let her anger out on me. A few spells turned into dark curses and several bruises covered my skin. Papa didn’t do anything against her but I know that he sent several house elves to patch me up when she left me in my room in agony.
“Children get ready. We’ll aparate to the station in 15 minutes. Your mother won’t be joining us, so make sure to say your goodbyes.” Papa said, ripping me out of my thoughts.
In my room I stuffed the last few things in a bag. Kreacher would aparate my belongings to 9 ¾. I grabbed my Slytherin robe, the Prefect Badge glinting in the light. My parents had been pleased when I got it, except when Sirius didn’t get one the mood in our house shifted quickly. I can still hear his screams of that day faintly in my head. I shake my head, trying to rid my mind from this particular memory. One last look in the mirror and I headed downstairs again.
Papa and Reggie wait for me already and we smile at each other. The first real smile all day. We each grab an arm that Papa offers us. Everything turns black, my body tightens up and just before I think my airway caught up we are standing on Platform 9 ¾.
“I wish you a good second term, my loves. Make sure to write. I’ll miss you. Bon voyage. [safe journey]” Papa pressed a kiss to both our heads and I couldn’t resist hugging him. Though half of Hogwarts was aware of our presence he hugged me back.
“I’m so sorry for what she did to you and that I couldn’t help you more y/n. Je t’aime. [I love you]” 
“Je t'aime aussi papa. Ne t'inquiète pas, ça va aller. [I love too, Papa. Don’t you worry I’ll be fine.]” All the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes were forced down. As a child I was always expected to keep my feelings inside, so that’s what my siblings and I were exceptional at.
“Watch over one another and make sure Maman doesn’t find out you’re talking to Sirius. Also tell him I’m sorry for how things went down, that I miss and love him. Go now, I’ll see you soon.” 
He disapparated and Reg squeezed my hand. We made our way to the Hogwarts Express and parted ways, both of us in search of our friends.
“y/n/n!” I hear a shout. Turning around I spot my best friend. Florence Clarisse Rosier - older sister of Evan Rosier and my roommate. She’s running towards me and tackles me into a hug. I suppress a wince, when she squeezes against my bruises. “We’ve already secured a compartment, come on.”
With ‘we’ she was talking about Adam Cygnus Travers and Theodore Lewis Nott. The two boys completed our friend group and we were known as the ‘Slytherin Royals’. All four of us descended from families of the Sacred 28 and had quite the reputation.
I greeted the boys with a hug and we talked about our holiday. I swiftly left out the subject of Sirius, but they knew. Walburga officially declared Regulus as the new heir of the House of Black, every Sacred 28 family knew what happened with Sirius. I saw their worried faces and uncertain looks, the eye-contact between them. No one dared to touch the subject.
I was relieved to to go to the Prefect meeting, so I could escape the unease. On my way there I passed a compartment Remus Lupin was currently exiting. Quickly glancing inside I spotted my twin, James and Peter. Sirius and I held eye contact for a split second before I turned my head away. I could see the disappointment in his eyes. My heart clenched. I really missed Sirius, he was my other half. We've never gone so long without talking.
“Oh hey y/n.” Remus greeted me only noticing now that I stood next to him.
“Hey Rem. How was your holiday?” We continued to talk while heading to the front of the train. Remus avoided the subject Sirius and I was thankful for it.
At the meeting we got handed our new patrol rounds. I was paired up with Remus or Lucinda - Lucy - Greengrass, which I was quite content with. Lucy was pretty nice. I wouldn’t call us friends, but conversation between us flew easily.
Later back in our compartment I put my feet in Theo’s lap and he absentmindedly began to massage them, while I read a book. My grades were extremely important to me, even more to my mother. So I wanted to get a head start on this semester's material.
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When we arrived at the Great Hall - everyone was exhausted from the long journey. We were happy when Dumbledore held his speech and the food finally appeared. 
During Dinner I felt several pairs of eyes on me. I knew it was the Marauders. I didn’t meet their eyes. The Great Hall was definitely the wrong place for the conversation me and Sirius had to hold. For now I was still too angry at him to have a level headed talk with him.
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After dinner my friends and I spent the evening on our couch in the common room. We’ve claimed that couch as ours and no one dares to sit on it, except when they’re invited to do so. Our evening was spent talking some more and when all of us got tired we made our way upstairs, wishing the boys a good night.
Unlike the Gryffindors, Slytherins had to share their space only with one other person. The shared space is only a bathroom and a small lounge room. Everyone has their own bedroom. In my case my dorm mate is Flo. She’s been my best friend since day one. With her lively nature, she draws the attention of an entire room to her. She’s the kind of girl who’s friends with everybody. 
In first year she would drag me into her world. I always loved the attention, just like Sirius. It was something we rarely experienced as something positive and at Hogwarts everyone seemed to like us. Naturally. We were somewhat celebrities in the Wizarding world.
Before going to sleep I put a silencing charm around my room. I had always had quite the share of nightmares, Sirius used to call them night terrors, that’s how bad they were. Since he was gone there wasn’t a single night where I wasn’t plagued by a nightmare.
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A scream tore through the dark. My own. My skin was covered in sweat and I suppressed a shiver. 
Only one thing helped me get back to sleep after a nightmare. My brothers. I couldn’t go to Reggie though, he had been through enough during the holiday and it hurt me to see him suffer because of me. So Sirius it was, I knew he wouldn’t question it even though we weren’t talking currently.
As quiet as possible I made my way to the common room. Empty.
I wasn’t really scared that a teacher would catch me in the corridor. Us Slytherins - especially the children of the Sacred 28 - had Professor Slughorn wrapped around our finger, so I wouldn’t even face consequences.
As a Prefect I knew all the Passwords of the different houses so getting inside the Gryffindor common room was dead easy. The common room was empty as well and I tiptoed up the stairs.
The door to the boys’ dorm slightly creaked slightly when I opened it. "Sirius, Sirius!" I whisper yelled into the dark and quiet room. But no response from my twin-brother. A sigh escaped me and I was just about to go back to my dorm when I heard a whisper.
"y/n, is that you? Are you alright?" It was James. "Yeah, no I-I'm fine." Obviously my best friend sensed the lie and ushered me to come over to him. I sat down on his bed and before I could protest he pulled me next to him.
The moonlight that shone in the room made it possible for me to see his features. That meant he could also see my face and the shed tears on my cheeks. 
"What's wrong y/n/n?" "I’m fine. It was nothing, just a nightmare, it's fine. I’m fine. I just wanted to talk to Sirius."
"Sounds like you’re fine. Hey, you don't have to lie to me. I know how bad your night terrors are and it's rare you seek Pads' help in the middle of the night. So it must've been really bad."
I mumbled "okay you're right" in response. James put his arms around me and pulled me into his chest. Feeling his body heat seep into me I felt like I could finally breathe again and let out a shaky breath. James put a silencing spell around the bed so we wouldn't wake the others.
"What's going on? Why are you avoiding us? Did something happen?"
Tears were threatening to spill again. "It's my mother. J she's never been this bad or this angry. They told us it would have consequences if I spent time with you guys."
"Oh y/n, you should've gone with Sirius when he came to me, I was really worried about you the whole holiday. I didn't hear a word from you."
“I just couldn’t leave Reggie alone. Also I don't want to leave Papa, would be so lonely without us. Besides, Sirius didn’t even tell me he was leaving. One morning he was gone and I had to face Walburgas anger. I get why he left. Still we’re his siblings for Merlin's sake. He could've at least said something.”
Now I was really crying. James wrapped his arms even tighter around me. "I’m so sorry. I didn't know it was that bad or I would've gotten you out of there myself. You and Pads definitely need to talk tomorrow."
We talked for a little while, when I noticed James started to get really tired. His eyes fell shut every other second and he was trying hard to keep awake.
"Mind if I stay the night Jamie?" "Of course not, sleep tight, love." "Good night James." I whispered but didn’t get an answer. James had already fallen asleep and in the comfort of his arms I was finally able to go to sleep too.
author's note: so first chapter of my new story. thanks for reading this far! i'm not 100% sure how to feel about this for now. there's definitely going to be more james later, but i needed this as an entry point for the story so you have some background information. also i just wanted to put out there that english isn't my first language. i proof read the chapter, but if you spot any mistake don't fret to tell me i love you guys and wish you a gread day/afternoon/night where ever you are ♡︎
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