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tofuxtea · 2 years

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𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇 | 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘱 + 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 — negan smith x fem!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — age gap (around 15 yrs), authority kink, ‘sir’ is used in joking context, choking, aggressive negan, flirty reader, light humiliation, reader is pushed against a wall unsexily, very light dub-con if you squint (no precise ‘yes’ from either parties), just negan saying negan shit tbh

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 — i am barely on season 2 of walking dead i really hope i captured at least SOME of canon negan’s essence, otherwise i’m going off of what i think he’d be like in this situation. also this is a tad late. shhh. ALSO NOT PROOFREAD SHHHHHH I HAVE HOMEWORK DUE TN — 2.9k words.

the night was still fairly young, the last orange streaks of sunset against the sanctuary’s high walls slowly deepening to a rusty red. a majority of the saviors had already begun retiring to their rooms on negan’s accord — do not leave after sunset. it was a rule, sure, but it was also common sense in a world run by walkers.

you had common sense. sometimes. you knew it was an awful idea to venture out to town for medicine at a time like this, especially when you knew a group would likely be sent out the next morning to one of the trade groups, but the infirmary was running dangerously low on painkillers and first aid supplies.

while you never considered yourself to be the hero without a cape type, you needed the hike to clear your mind. negan seemed to be paying extra close attention to you over the past couple of weeks and it made you feel like you were a blood sample under a microscope.

you had no issue with negan but something about him breathing down your neck like his life depended on it made you feel odd. he was well older than you — possibly fifteen or so years older — but there was something about his sadistically arrogant dimpled smile whenever you pointed his closeness out that had your cheeks dusted pink. which was the last thing you wanted.

negan was no romantic nor was he one to easily take likings to people. he gutted people like it was breathing. sure, he had a close eye on you whenever you were within sight but you figured it was more of a cautious motive he had; like making sure you wouldn’t steal or conspire against the saviors. he would probably smear your brains on the cement you stood on without a second thought if you gave him even a hint of a reason to believe you were.

in simpler terms, he was an attractive douchebag. a dangerous attractive douchebag—

“the hell do you think you’re going?” the sharp, gruff voice that had been looped in your wandering mind seemed to summon the devil himself, his presence popping the bubble of tension that surrounded you. your spine stiffened, but you didn’t dare turn around to face him. you didn’t need to to know he was staring daggers into your back. there was a soft shuffle — he crossed his arms over his chest — and he blew a wry chuckle out of his nose. “you runnin’ away?”

any trace of accusation from his first question had vanished and he actually sounded amused. you stuffed a switchblade into the side pocket of your backpack with a scoff of your own. “‘course not.” you prayed that the firmness in your tone compensated for your shaky hands. it was all you could do to hope negan wouldn’t bash you in from behind with lucille.

“well, care to enlighten me, sweetheart?” he taunted and you could hear the smirk in his voice. unfazed, you zipped your backpack up and went to sling it over your shoulder when you finally came to terms with the fact that negan wouldn’t let you out. and you couldn’t lie your way out of it.

you met his empty, gently lidded eyes, thick dark eyebrows set in a stern line just above them. “i’m making a quick stop into town. we’re running low on meds and i’m not sure if they’re gonna last til morning.” negan’s expression hardly shifted, only his lips turning downwards with the slightest interest in your brave plan. for a sliver of a second you thought he just might be in support of it.

“alright, i’ll play along. how are you gonna get there with just that little knife of yours?” his finger jutted towards your side pocket. a jolt of distaste shifted your features and you knew negan noticed. at least, if he did, he didn’t care.

“you offering to come with? or do you just wanna protect me?” the way his eyebrows shot up made you think your playfulness didn’t make it across to him. but then the corner of his mouth slowly tugged into an impressed smirk.

“that’s all you’re going for? meds?” he reiterated, not a hint of confusion laced in his words. it sounded like he was pushing for a second answer you had yet to give.

you eyed him warily, ignoring the few steps he took into the room, shutting the door in the process. your brows pinched together for a second of suspicion. “why? you need me to get you something?” your gaze wandered off to the side while you pursed your lips with thought and hummed. when you met negan’s eyes again, he had gotten a decent amount closer to you and he actually winced at the mischievous look in your own. “condoms? viagra?”

he let out a breathy laugh, pearly white teeth showing from under a curled lip. “oh, don’t start something you can’t finish, sweetheart.” the genuine lightheartedness coming from negan scared you more than the dangerous proximity. “put the bag down. i’ll send a group in the morning.”

there was no challenge in his features and you knew he expected you to listen like an obedient little dog. when your fingers wrapped securely around the straps of the backpack and hiked it further up your shoulder, his little smirk faltered. “i’m going into town, negan. it won’t be too long.” you pushed lightly. praying to whatever god there was left, you hoped negan would simply shrug his shoulders and allow you to leave. he took a step forward.

“did i ask you?” an unsettling grin set his lips straight and it made you feel tiny. he definitely had the ambiance of a respected leader — if you could even call what people felt for him respect. his expression twinged with a mocking expectancy like he actually wanted a reply. “did i?”

your tongue swiped over your molars and your jaw jutted to the side. “no, sir.” the honorific held no sincerity. negan seemed satisfied with your answer nonetheless but he didn’t let the sarcasm slip by so easily. in the brief moment of tense silence you shared, a curiosity that hurt your brain begged to be debunked. “why do you care?”

negan’s eyes went scarily blank but the beginning sparks of a fire could be seen in the pits of his pupils. “excuse me?” there was hardly any venom on his tongue but it was enough to make you wince.

you flung the backpack onto the barely clothed mattress with a soft rustle and met negan’s stare with one that screamed really? “you think i don’t see you staring me down every time i’m doing my job? at first i thought it might’ve been because you were waiting for me to screw up but if that were the case we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” negan’s tightly pressed lips gave you no direction towards the truth. he had a knack for that. “would we, negan? so what is it? are you scared of me runnin’ away or do you actually care enough to not let me go?” the scrutiny behind your tone made him veer his gaze off to the side. he returned it moments later, possibly wanting to regain his composure.

“you done?” he asked flatly. for a moment you were glad he wasn’t lashing out at you for even assuming he’d care about somebody but it quickly bubbled over into exasperation.

“the hell i am!” you snapped, daring to bare claws at him. they were clipped down in a second, his palm catching your throat and viciously hurling you backwards until the backs of your thighs dug into the tiny bedside table behind you. negan still pushed, the back of your head meeting the wall with a gentle thunk.

it shut you up. eyes wide and fingertips scrambling to find footing on the table you were awkwardly hovering over, you feared negan. his eyes were scarily void of any readable emotions. he was completely cool, even with his leg nudged between your thighs and his wrist being softly clawed at by your nails.

“i said you done?” the heat of his breath hit your face and you gulped hard. his palm pushed against the center of your throat and there was no sign of letting up. not until you forced yourself to nod did he grant you a sliver of freedom by taking the pressure off of your windpipe. the calloused pads of his fingers still held your jaw firmly in place but at least you could breathe.

“you want me to add a ‘sir’ to that?” even while pinned to the wall you managed to adorn an arrogant smirk in between labored breaths. “who told you i was into this? arat? swear i can’t tell her shit—”

“that fucking mouth of yours.” negan cut in sharply. you would have assumed it was because he was genuinely disgusted until his tongue darted out and wet his lips. then the deep pits of his pupils finally became eligible and your brows leveled with shock. “do you remember who you’re talking to?”

you nudged against his hand, challenging the very man who could take your life with a clean swipe of his fist. unless he wanted to take the extra minute to grab his barbed baseball bat. “‘course i do, negan.” voice dropping an octave, you could see the strain it put on his hardened demeanor. he blinked quickly and shifted on his feet, the crease in his forehead showing his inward debate whether to give in or beat the shit out of you. it was decided for him when one of your hands that had stiffly held onto the table experimentally prodded at his side. negan’s breath went sharp but he made no attempt to get away. “you do care.”

“i could fuckin’ kill you.” the man seethed. his fingers grasped your jaw with ferocity and you choked on a gasp as he pressed you into the wall once more. his other hand hooked underneath your thigh and hoisted you onto the table, its contents rattling and tumbling onto the ground with alarmingly loud crashes. “i’m old enough to be your damn father and you wanna fuck me?”

negan had your cheek almost flush with the wall, his nose brushing against your tensed jawline. you could sense the taunting narrowing of his eyes and smirk on his lips without even seeing them. he had slipped between your legs, the hand that had aggressively lifted you now gently feathering over the front of your thigh.

“that’s what you want?” he held your mouth shut like a muzzle. your nostrils flared with anger and you shot him a dangerous glare out of the corner of your eye. “oh, you’re fucked up.” he barked out a laugh when pathetic surrender flooded your dilated pupils.

he whipped your head forward and released you. your first instinct was to slap him across the face, hierarchy be damned. you had your palm raised, ready to be brought down when negan caught your wrist into his large hand and pinned it to the wall along with you. his lips crashed onto yours with malicious fervor, the tickling sensation of his salt and pepper beard on your skin drawing a shudder from you.

your free hand curled a finger into his belt loop and pulled him impossibly closer. you wrapped your legs around his hips, gently grinding into his significantly hardened cock in his black jeans. “shit, don’t get too hasty, sweetheart.” he warned, tearing your wandering arm away from him and yanking it behind your back. you chuckled wryly, gently wincing at the roughness, but it crumbled as soon as his lips found your neck. your back instinctively arched and you kicked your head back a little to allow him access, though the tug he gave the hair at the nape of your neck did that for you. he was greedy yet smooth, carefully working down to the low neck of your tank top.

“negan,” you whispered shakily as his large hands slid up underneath your top, the sudden contrast in temperature bringing goosebumps to your skin. he groaned softly, the hum of his voice vibrating against your chest. in a second he had it pulled over your head and threw it mindlessly to the side. his eyes dragged down your torso, fueling the fire in his pupils. “oh, and you call me fucked up?” you teased as you swiftly unclipped your bra and theatrically slid the straps down your arms, noting the way negan’s eyelids went scarily low.

“shut up.” he shot back, hands molding to your hips, slowly slipping down to the waistband of your tiny shorts that he wanted gone. the needy glint returned to your eyes and your lips curled up.

“make me, sir.” it was a corny line that asked for a hell of a time, and negan bought right into it when he stole a long, sloppy kiss. while he skillfully worked the clasp on your shorts, you peeled his grey shirt over his head like your life depended on it. next was his belt buckle, then the button on his pants.

you let him shimmy your bottoms down your hips, his satisfied smirk growing when your black panties came into view. they were a little treat you snagged for yourself when you found a decently stocked department store a while back. it was just your luck that you decided to wear them today.

the thick pad of his finger found your clit through the thin fabric, slowly circling it. your hips softly bucked in response as a cry ripped from your throat. negan took the opportunity to latch onto your chest, teeth nipping at a mark he’d already planted. “fuck, you’re already so damn wet.” he panted, not wasting another second to slide your panties to the side and run his middle finger teasingly up your soaked cunt. he dipped his fingertip in, watching how you writhed at the sensation.

a broken cry met his ears and he smiled sadistically, continuing until he was knuckle deep. “ne—negan, fuck,” you couldn’t form a single sentence when he began thrusting his finger inside of you mercilessly.

“what happened to ‘make me’, hm?” what he said refused to process yet you still managed to land a soft slap to his shoulder. he quickly pulled out, with an irritated whine from you, and popped it into his mouth, holding your eyes until he took it right back out. your lips parted, calming breaths beginning to pick up at the sight.

your nimble fingers found the waist of his boxers first, clumsily nudging them down his sides until his cock was freed. negan watched through sex-doped lids as you wrapped your hand around him and began pumping him. his head lolled back and his eyes screwed shut with an open-mouthed groan.

“fuck me, negan, please,” you whined, shoving your pride down your throat for the first time all night. you teased your folds with the tip of his dick, your heels nudging the back of his legs greedily.

he snaked his hand around to the back of your neck, pulling you into a deep messy kiss. the feeling of his tongue on yours and his beard softly scratching your face made you whimper. his other went between your thighs, keeping them wide as he slowly pushed his dick inside of you. you moaned against his mouth, steadying yourself on his shoulders. “negan,” your knuckles turned paper white from how tightly you were holding onto his arms, grip getting impossibly tighter when he started moving.

“fuck,” negan cursed when he felt how tight you were, practically squeezing around his cock. both of you knew you wouldn’t last long and if you kept knocking the table against the wall and the volume, you had about that long until someone walked in.

he hooked the backs of your legs underneath his arms and pounded into you, the angle hitting a spot that made your body go completely slack. your head slid on the wall behind you, kicking back out of pleasure as pornographic moans tumbled past your lips. “shit, negan, don’t stop.” you managed in between heaving gasps, needily pulling at his neck until he leaned down to meet your lips with an animalistic passion. he pressed one hand to the wall next to your head, the other holding your thigh almost flush with your chest.

his thrusts went deep and slowed down so subtly you almost didn’t notice, abusing the sensitive spot that had you seeing white. “that’s it, let go.” negan’s voice rumbled in your ears, nearing a low growl.

strings of curses left your mouth as your high crashed into you. hard. it rocked your body all over, momentarily numbing you. negan’s thumb roughly circled your clit once more, intensifying the electricity that shot through your body. you spasmed around his cock and your back gently curved, hips meeting his thrusts.

he didn’t last longer than you did, barely pulling out in time to cum on the insides of your thighs and lower stomach. his chest heaved as he came back down. neither of you moved, except for your palm as it slid down to the tattoo on the right side of his chest, the tips of your fingers brushing over the navy ink.

“next time you’re in town, get some condoms.”

the first half was better imo BUT ANYWAYS ENJOY negan lovers pls follow me ♥️ —rin

#the walking dead smut #the walking dead #the walking dead kinktober #negan smut #negan smith #negan smith smut #negan fic #negan x you #daddy negan #negan imagine #twd smut #tw dubcon #twd negan #twd kinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2022

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muddyorbsblr · 11 months

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the final Lady Sharpe part 3: unorthodox signals

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: @ellooo0ooo

Summary: The first night of your mission to put Lucille away finishes with an unexpected request from Thomas

Pairing: Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Word Count: 5.7k [get a snack or a drink ready]

Warnings: ghosts; the McMichaels; the teensiest bit of steam [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: Reader & Thomas are married; the start of pining

"Do you really think that this will be enough to put her away?"

Your first candle was just about to run out, telling you that over half of your first night in this possibly deadly operation in the hopes of putting Lucille Sharpe away for all the crimes she'd committed since Thomas was barely a young man was already over. Edith had guided you throughout the manner, finding the documents that held the records of marriages, deaths, money transfers and the like not too far from your shared bedroom with the baronet. A cursory glance through all the documents told you that alone they would barely have any leg to stand on and your hopes of putting her away would be significantly lowered.

You needed every morsel of evidence you could find.

Edith kept you company through the night, an invisible apparition of a lookout, talking with you while waiting for ink to dry so you could start copying the next line of the document. Mostly you two talked about her life before it came to a screeching halt courtesy of the business end of Lucille Sharpe's cleaver; how she wanted to be a writer and had made significant progress on her first novel that the murderous Lady Sharpe had burned to ash before ending her life.

If you survived this endeavor, you offered to pen down the novel once more at Edith's dictation to have her story published. So that her name may live on and her soul would live on in peace knowing that one of her dreams had been accomplished in a way.

"All of these together could build a strong enough case," you answered the spirit. "The only thing is it could build a case either against Lucille…or Thomas; there's nothing here so far that could undeniably present that it's her pulling these strings. What do the recording cylinders hold?"

"Enola's testimony that Lucille knows how to prepare the poison, the location of her cleaver, and that the money that has been inherited and co-mingled with the Sharpe estate has been used to complete the machine."

"Circumstantial," you mumbled, finishing up the fourth page for the night, leaving you a remainder of around five dozen sheets of paper along with transcribing the cylinders. "Anything else?"

"How about a spoken confession from Lucille?" That had your ears perk up, putting the pen down and allowing for the ink to dry before moving on to the next line. "Before she killed me she told me about how she made Thomas marry for the money. For the mines and for the machine and ultimately so they could find a way to make even more. But how all the horror that they dealt the world was for love."

"Lead with that next time, please," you breathed out, realizing that you now had the smoking gun. "What about a journal? A place where she kept track of all the prospects before ultimately choosing someone for Thomas to marry?"

"From what Enola has told me those get burned once the marriage certificate gets signed." Your ghostly companion sounded disappointed over that bit of information, almost as if she was apologizing to you for not being able to give you that. "Y/N if it's alright to ask…why did you decide to help Thomas? We could have helped you escape without his participation. In fact, everything you're doing now could have been done without his knowledge. Why tell him and risk betrayal? What if he's telling Lucille about your plan as we speak?"

"Good question," you blurted out a little louder than you intended. "Honestly when he explained to me what had been going on, part of me could see that in his own way…he was a victim in Lucille's plotting, too. I saw the remorse in his eyes as he talked about you…all of you. If he was being sincere and he truly wanted to be free from someone who had utilized him for her own selfish, hedonistic gain since he was but a boy, then I would be cruel to know all this and choose to not help him. Now, if he is betraying me and Lucille comes after me with her cleaver…or God help us something else…then that would be on his conscience if I die tonight. Or they do. In truth I wouldn't face any consequence upon their deaths because it would be an act of self defense."

You'd just finished copying the entirety of the fourth page when you were startled with a loud groan resonating from the attic.

"What in God's name was that?"

"It seems…it's Thomas. Maybe he's giving you a signal? How much of the second candle is left?"

You put the remaining candle next to your thumb. "Just a little over half a thumb's worth…" you trailed off. "I didn't tell him to give me a signal…"

A murmured second voice seemed to have joined Edith, which you surmised was most likely Enola. "She's asleep," Edith spoke after a few moments of less than whisper quiet tones. "Perhaps he hedged on the side of caution and made sure you wouldn't be navigating these halls without a light. How thoughtful of him." The slight teasing tone in her words didn't escape you, but you chose not to question it and instead gathered the original documents and placed them in the order which you found them earlier tonight, rushing over to the dresser in the hall near your bedroom and stashing them back in the drawer.

"Edith…do you think we'll actually succeed in this?" Throughout the night, you kept on inwardly voicing your doubts, wondering if perhaps you'd planned too meticulously, or maybe even not enough. That somewhere along the way in the next few weeks, you would have missed something and instead of tasting freedom at the end of this, you would instead be joining your newfound apparitional friend haunting the corridors of Allerdale Hall.

"You will," she answered you as you crossed the threshold to Thomas' workshop, finding a journal for sketches that you could sneak the copies you'd finished into. "It's too late for me to succeed in something like this, so really all I can do is help you -- and Thomas -- so that you can live your life free from Lucille."

"Our lives," you corrected. "If we make it out of this with our lives intact, he deserves to be with someone he actually loves."

The sound of water filling the bathtub greeted Thomas once he stepped into your shared bedroom, his brows knitting together in confusion once he stepped into the bathroom and spotted you standing beside the faucet in your sleeping gown. He couldn't help but to stare at how the moonlight shone through the window and hit your features in a way that he could only describe as celestial.

As if you were an angel sent his way, about to hold his hand and guide him out of the dark path he walked for most of his life.

"I drew you a bath," you said softly, shutting off the tap and already shuffling your way toward the door when he began to close the distance between you two. "Figured you'd want to clean up after…" You motioned your hand toward the ceiling, vaguely toward the attic where Lucille currently laid asleep. "…all that."

He held you lightly by your elbow to stop you from passing him. "You didn't need to do that."

"I know…" You gave him a tight-lipped smile, so far off from the one that he'd gotten to know before you were married. So distant that you may as well have been standing on the other end of the room instead of mere inches away. Almost as if you'd viewed him as no more than a stranger.

The thought alone made his heart grow heavy, a desperation clawing at him to know what he must do just to see that smile of yours again. The type that could light up a room and draw everyone's attention to you. The kind that dimpled your cheek and reached your eyes and all he could do in response was give you a smile of his own. Or kiss you.

"But personally whenever I had to do something that didn't sit right in my soul, I found it best to wash it off of my body at least before going to bed," you offered, placing your hand over his and easing yourself out of his hold. "Goodnight, Thomas."

Just before you completely slipped from his reach, he wrapped his hand around yours in a delicate hold. "W-Wait…Y/N, please," he stammered, tracing his thumb along the length of your fingers just as he once did even yesterday in the carriage ride as you two made your way to the decaying house.

We should have stayed in the city. The words begged to be uttered, weighing uncomfortably on the tip of his tongue. We could have been happy together.

"What is it?"

"I…I don't wish for the last thing I do before I sleep to be a—a distraction," he mumbled, heart hammering away at his throat, fearing what you would answer to what he wanted to ask of you. "I-If it would be alright with you, the last thing I wish to do before I go to bed tonight would be…a kiss."

Your expression went unchanged, remaining as distant and…almost defensive, as your eyes roamed his features. The silence from you was near deafening to him, the only sound that he could register being the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.

"You don't need to say yes--"

"Wash your mouth first," you said in a rush, a tiny tentative smile twitching at the corner of your mouth. "Because I refuse to kiss the same lips she kissed."

Thomas stayed where he stood for a good few moments after you slipped out of his hold, stunned that you'd given only that simple stipulation and that ultimately, you agreed.

The shameful memories of Lucille's touch would not be the haunting lingering thought that plagued him before sleep would overtake him tonight. For even just a fleeting moment, he could convince himself that tonight he would go to bed having only kissed his wife goodnight. He could allow himself to picture what life with you would be like if you both succeeded in this plan of yours.

How you two would live out your newfound freedom together.

The mere thought brought tears to his eyes, envisioning what it would be like to wake in the morning contentedly holding you in his arms, your only concerns in the world paling in comparison to what he worried of now.

Warmth couldn't find you as you sat on the bed waiting for the sound of the water draining from the tub, no matter that you were on the side of the bed that was closer to the fireplace, or that the windows were closed and the wintery wind could not enter the room. The cold was coming from inside you, all stemming from the question of why did you agree to Thomas' wish so quickly.

Were you honestly so desperate to have a semblance of the marriage that you'd thought you signed your life off to that you were willing to instigate a sense of intimacy with a man you found yourself questioning if he was worthy of your trust? Could you even bring yourself to sleep in the same bed as him after all that had been revealed today?

How come the answer to both those questions was not a clear and resounding 'no'?

"I've never felt so stupid," you whispered into the quiet, wondering if Edith was present in the room with you now, the faint pang of disappointment prodding at your mind tauntingly when you heard nothing in return. "Too handsome for me to even have thought of knowing better."

The sound of water rushing into the drain jolted you out of your thoughts, having to make a conscious effort to take steadying breaths when Thomas stepped out of the bathroom with nothing but a thin bathing towel quickly becoming translucent from the water covering his lithe form. Suddenly you were conspicuously interested in the pattern of the flaming embers of the fireplace, keeping your gaze fixed at the blazing corner of the room until you felt the bed dip beside you.

It confounded you more when he shuffled closer to where you sat on the bed, fingers resting gently atop yours as he tucked his fingers under your chin to turn your gaze to him. "What did you gather from tonight?"

You had to fight against your urge to breathe out audibly in relief, your nerves over his request from earlier easing off somewhat at the much simpler turn the conversation had taken. "There are about sixty-five sheets worth of documents. I was able to fully copy four pages, but I think I can go faster if I can make the ink dry quicker…possibly up to seven or even eight pages a night, which would give me more time to work on transcribing the photograph cylinders."

"Would I be able to help you? About the ink?"

You shook your head slightly, shaking his light grasp on your chin only to have him cup the side of your face, fingers weaving through your hair, thumb stroking along your cheekbone. "I need to find a way to warm the paper and also procure thinner ink, so I'll go into the city tomorrow morning and see what I find."

"I could accompany you, make a day of it." The furrow between his brows visibly relaxed when you nodded, accepting his offer. The air around you felt thinner once more when his gaze flickered to your lips. "You truly are ethereal in this light," he breathed out as he leaned in close enough that you could hear his staggered breaths. "Brilliant," he whispered, barely audible, before he pressed his lips to yours in a tender kiss.

A faint whimper escaping you seemed to spur him on, each kiss becoming less restrained than the last, causing a near violent fluttering in your stomach the moment you felt his tongue tracing along the parting of your lips. There was a split second when he pulled away from you that you instinctively leaned toward him, chasing his kiss, before you caught yourself.

The sight of him giving you a tender smile greeted you when you opened your eyes, him seemingly content to stay right where he was, faces inches apart with his thumb tracing along your bottom lip. "Thank you."

"It's the least I could do," you said on instinct, assuming he meant what you'd done and agreed to tonight once he walked back into the bedroom.

"Y/N…" he breathed your name, his warm exhale grazing your skin from his closeness. "You're putting an end to the horror that has plagued most of my life. That is more than enough. More than I could ask for." He took you by surprise when he leaned in to press another soft kiss to your lips. "More than I deserve."

You immediately felt the loss of his touch when he scooted away and laid down on his side of the bed, moving you to follow suit as you wrestled with your thoughts and the outright diabolical turn your life had taken since stepping through the doors of his manor. How now you feared even sleeping only to wake with the maniacal Lucille standing over you with cleaver in hand.

Or perhaps you would not wake at all. Perhaps you would open your eyes and suddenly you would know the face of your apparitional friend Edith, because you were now cursed to haunt the halls of this possessed manor right alongside her.

What puzzled you the most was that if that were to happen, you would miss Thomas. And feel a sense of guilt about you that you were unable to deliver on your promise to end his sister's horrendous ways.

"Y/N, would it be too much if I were to ask for one more thing?" Thomas spoke into the quiet of the room. "You can say no I would completely understand."

"What is it?" You tried to keep your tone even, to not give it away that you were restless as well.

"May I hold you?"

The air left your lungs at his request, your thoughts racing with what his reasoning behind wanting to form this sense of intimacy with you when you knew that after all this you two would be little more than strangers. You tried to weave a sense of rationality into your decision. "Would it help you sleep?"

"Perhaps," he breathed out, already moving his arm to make space for you. "Since we met I always felt I could…breathe easier when you were near. I would sleep easier knowing that when I woke the next morning I would see you again. And now that you're here—"

You moved in the bed before he could finish his answer, shuffling into the space right beside him and settling against his side, grateful for the shadows cast upon your face from the fire now facing away from you, hiding the way your eyes widened and your brows knit together when he let out a sigh and visibly relaxed. When your head rested on his shoulder, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer and pressing a light kiss to your forehead.

"Goodnight, darling," he whispered into your skin, wrapping his other arm around you as well and pulling you into a full embrace, half of your torso laying atop of his bare chest.

"I'm just saying, Y/N, things around here the last few days have just been a few touches too bleak for my taste without you coming in to request some obscure ingredient or equipment for one of your experiments for Scotland Yard. It's so good to see you again, and married! You've no idea how jarring it was to hear it from Jeffries and Rhodes that you hadn't taken on a case in nearly two months and then so casually mention that they'd last seen you when you dropped by the station to tell them you were taking an indefinite break from cases for your wedding!"

You'd spend the last few minutes catching up with the owner of the assorted goods shop you frequented, Suzanne, a woman that seemed to be able to work miracles and find whatever it was you needed for investigating your cases throughout the years. The moment you walked through the doors of her shop, she dropped everything and pulled you into a tight embrace as if it had been years since you two last saw each other.

Considering the coldness of Lucille back in Allerdale and the bizarre mix of comfort and trepidation you felt this morning waking in Thomas' arms, the familiarity of your years long acquaintance's warmth and hospitality was such a welcome change. So welcome that it threatened to move you to tears with how it nearly overwhelmed you with relief.

"It's so good to see you, too, Suzanne." You picked up the parcel of parchments and a bottle containing a more thinned out ink compared to the one you used last night. "This'll help a great deal. Also…any chance you have a few long candles laying around?"

"Absolutely. How many?"

You did a quick computation in your mind, adding a few for contingency's sake. "Five dozen?"

She didn't even seem surprised by your request. "Is this for another case? None of the detectives I've crossed paths with mentioned you're working on something from their board."

"More a…personal project," you offered, a half truth considering that this would eventually become a case when the station received the copied documents. Or when they investigate your mysterious and untimely demise at the hands of your demented sister in law. "You know me, always have to make sure I have a little more than enough in case mistakes are--"

"Lord have mercy," she gasped out, her attention completely taken by whatever or whoever was at the door. "What a sight."

You suppressed the grin threatening to split your face in two when you caught sight of Thomas walking into the shop and making his way toward you, his overcoat swaying gently with each step. "I've placed the order. Parts should arrive in three weeks," he spoke, all the while keeping a hand behind his back as he approached you. "And as I made my way here I came across this and thought it would be a welcome spot of color in our room."

He brought his hand around to reveal a small bouquet of sunflowers, a bright smile stretching across his face as he saw your own smile playing at your features once you caught sight of the brilliant yellow.

"It complements your eyes," he said softly, holding the flower up next to your face, effortlessly keeping you captive under his steely blue gaze.

The sound of a throat clearing brought you out of your trance, turning to face the shop owner once again. "Suzanne, I'd like you to meet my husband, Sir Thomas Sharpe." Her jaw had gone slack staring at the two of you, giving him the slightest nod and a small wave, all the while the awe never left her expression.

"Have you got everything you need, darling?"

You nearly blurted out that all you needed were the candles when another item crossed your mind. "Nearly everything." You turned to address Suzanne once more. "You wouldn't happen to have some magnesium pills on hand, would you?"

"I'll see what I can find." She gave you both a curt nod before walking into her stock room. "Is everything alright? These are usually a last resort when all you do is toss and turn in the night."

"Just…some trouble sleeping," you called out into the direction of the door, holding up a hand in Thomas' direction when he opened his mouth to question the order. "Might just be the adjustment period after moving and all. Unpacking and familiarizing myself to a new environment."

"Oh! You've left the city?"

"Yes. I moved in to Thomas' home just outside the city. You know Allerdale Hall?" The sound of her stumbling on something raised your concern. "Are you alright in there? Do you need some help?"

"Forgive me for sounding like a dolt, but I've heard that that manor is condemned. Haunted, even. Everyone that had ever stepped foot across those doors swears they hear voices coming from the walls."

You shared a look with your husband, raising your eyebrow at him in a playfully taunting expression before answering the shop owner, "It's just the East Wind." He held a hand against his mouth to stifle the chuckles that escaped him. "Write it off as nothing more than an old wives' tale, my friend." You quietly shuffled a bit closer to Thomas before finishing in a more hushed voice, "Because what they're hearing are quite literally old wives…"

That had him shaking from the laughter he was holding back, moving his hand to wrap around you and pull you to his side, pressing a kiss into your hair and causing you to slightly shake as well from his barely restrained chuckling. When Suzanne had stepped out of the stock room with a box in hand along with a small tin of what you assumed were the pills you asked for, this was how she saw you two, a warm smile gracing her lips as she visibly melted at his gesture.

"I've never seen a husband so smitten with his wife," she commented as she placed the items on the counter. "It's so refreshing to see a couple so beautifully in love."

The sound of a sharp chime of the bell distracted you from the slight ache you felt from Suzanne's words, a tinge of guilt mixed with what you could only speculate was longing threatening to consume your thoughts. A group of three walked through, two ladies dressed in bright colors and frills with matching hats as a garish show of their affluence, and a gentleman in a definitively more muted business suit.

Recognition dawned in the eyes of each new visitor as soon as they spotted Thomas, the older woman's lip slightly upturned into an unsubtle sneer, while the younger woman straightened her posture, the swell of her breasts nearly bursting from the tight low neckline of her dress. Meanwhile the gentleman a few steps behind them shifted his attention quickly to the small collection of antique photographs by the front of the store.

"Thomas!" the younger woman sighed in a completely unnatural breathy tone that you recognized as an attempt in being flirtatious. "It's so good to see you again. We haven't seen you back in town since Edith's funeral. Honestly I feared that I--" The older woman lightly swatted her arm, both admonishing her and showing you that this was most likely her mother. "That we would never see you again."

It was almost as if the two women were making a conscious effort to disregard your presence, the daughter's eyes constantly flickering away from you the moment her gaze traveled in your general direction, and the mother staring right through you, as if the wall behind you was more interesting. Perhaps it truly was.

"Eunice was so eager to see you again despite the tragedy." The mother's tone reeked of cold calculation, a near mirror to Lucille's back in the manor. As if she were trying to sway his attention to her daughter.

You vaguely remembered something Edith had mentioned last night about pompous women back in her hometown filled to the brim with backhanded compliments and thinly veiled threats of putting others they deemed 'unworthy' in their 'rightful place in society'. This must be who she was referring to.

"It truly did not occur to me you would find yourselves back in London, Mrs McMichael." There was an obvious restraint in Thomas' tone that reminded you of how he questioned Lucille's suggestion for tea when you arrived in Allerdale yesterday afternoon, as if in his own way, he was trying to tell the woman across from you to take a step back. "What brings you back to London?"

"Oh, well Alan is here for a conference and Eunice was absolutely beside herself to return to the city and…all it had to offer." You unsubtly raised a single eyebrow at the poorly veiled weight behind those words. The younger woman, Eunice, had come to see Thomas. And it seemed that her brother was doing a poor job at feigning indifference judging by the way his head slightly moved along with the motion of rolling his eyes. It was only then that this Mrs McMichael looked directly at you, her gaze so cold it was clearly accustomed to being able to cut right into a lesser woman's insecurities.

You…were no lesser woman.

"But I see that certain sights have already become a touch too crowded," she sighed, her tone so condescendingly derisive. "Who might you be?"

"Mrs McMichael, this is--"

"Y/N Sharpe," you cut your husband off, extending a hand towards the haughty woman. "Scotland Yard." The muted 'oooooh' from Suzanne had you fighting off a smirk. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

The older woman took a look at the items before you on the counter. "Seems an odd place for Scotland Yard to send off their secretary on a run for supplies." She then scanned your attire from head to toe, the feel of your husband's hand making its way from your waist to the pocket of your skirt quickly distracting you from the irritation beginning to worm its way into your expression. "Quite odd for them to make you dress in such an erudite manner, too. Don't secretaries back home dress a little more…simply, Eunice?"

You placed your hand over Thomas' inside your skirt's pocket, trying to discreetly pry his fingers away from the handle of your blade while answering the woman no more than a stranger patronizing you over the way you dressed. "Actually I'm an investigator. These aren't supplies for the station, they're for me. For a case." When his hand was no longer closed around your blade, his fingers intertwined with yours, you brought up your joint hands to press a quick kiss to the backs of his fingers, stifling back a chuckle at the seething glare that colored both women's faces. "I have everything I need. Let's go home."

"I wasn't able to ask you while we were in the store," Thomas spoke a few minutes after the two of you had hopped on to the carriage back to Allerdale Hall, the entire time his fingers interlaced with yours, refusing to let you go. As if a part of him was fearful that if he let you slip away for even a few inches, even for the briefest moment, that you might not return.

He wouldn't blame you if that had been the case; being married to him seemed more a dangerous struggle than the blissful, romantic affair that poems and novels were written about. That was the marriage you deserved, and it weighed heavy on his heart to know that he could not give that to you.

Perhaps if you both survived this effort to put an end to Lucille's plotting, and if somehow Fate was kind to him and would not see him suffer too great a consequence for aiding in these schemes, then he could start to craft that picturesque, love-filled marriage that he had longed for his own life. The kind that would have built a home full of warmth, laughter, and comfort even in the icy chills of the country.

With you.

"What is it?" The way your thumb was absentmindedly rubbing circles on the knuckles of his fingers had him itching to pull you closer. To kiss you again like he had last night. And perhaps even test the waters into having it progress into something more.

"The magnesium pills…Why did you get them? Did you truly have trouble sleeping last night? I sincerely apologize if I--"

"No no, Thomas. You did nothing wrong." Your hold on his hand tightened slightly, as if pulling him out of his own head, bringing his focus back into reality. Back to you. "I erm--I actually slept quite peacefully," you mumbled, ducking your head down moments after he swore he saw your cheeks becoming tinged with pink. "They're for you."

Confusion overcame the baronet. Last night had been the most peaceful sleep he had in years, despite his participation in this possibly perilous endeavor you'd both signed yourselves up for. Painted a beautiful picture of what your life together would be once it was truly only just the two of you, and you would both come home after a day's work and settle into a more relaxed, intimate routine as husband and wife. "I don't think I need them, darling."

"I mean, should there ever be a night that you…can't stomach your part in this whole…" you trailed off, your free hand moving about as if you were trying to grasp the right word. "Situation…They're for that." You leaned in closer and spoke in a more hushed tone. "Take a pill, crush it into a powder, and stir it into her tea. They shouldn't give off a telling taste, but you can mask it with sugar if it helps. Put her right to sleep so that you won't have to--"

Your words were cut off in an adorable little squeak from the back of your throat as he leaned in to capture your lips in a tender kiss, his heart awash with warmth when he felt you relaxing against him and heart a soft sigh right before you began to kiss him back. "You are a godsend," he whispered against you.

"Well, it is a wife's duty after all to lighten her husband's load as best she can," you retorted, chuckling lightly as you pulled away from him. He had to fight the urge to pull you closer once more. "It feels only but right to do what I can while I still hold that title."

Thomas felt his blood go cold, the chill spreading even to the tips of his fingers. "Wait. Y/N, what do you mean while--"

"Would I really be so cruel to help you escape one gilded cage just to put you in another?" Your eyes shone with a sincerity, an earnest to simply help with fulfilling a shared interest. "Thomas, when this is all over and if we both survive, the outcome I'm aiming for is that I get to live my life back here in the city. Keep on doing what I'm good at and solve more cases. As for you? You get to be free. To do with the manor what you wish, meet someone new, court them, and marry them by your terms."

He felt his whole body go numb as he tried to make sense of the words coming out of you, watching the images of the life he planned to build with you start to crumble in his mind. The image of a life as a free man without you to hold and kiss at the end of the day held little to no appeal for him.

I might prefer incarceration, he thought to himself bitterly. "Do you mean than when this is over what comes next would be--"

"Dissolution," you finished his question for him, effectively turning his heart into lead and dropping to the pit of his stomach. "You'll be free from me, too."

He could see from the smile on your face that you probably expected him to be relieved with this news. Ecstatic even. But every ounce of him screamed to tell you there was no need. That he didn't see life with you as a gilded cage. That your words felt as if you'd taken your blade and stuck it right through his heart before twisting it.

We should have stayed in the city.

A/N: I don't think he likes that outcome very much… 🥴🫡

everything taglist: @sailorholly @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee

the final Lady Sharpe taglist: @lady-rose-moon @sassanoe @smolvenger @annoyingsweetsstranger @bombcitymiss22 @ladyloki3 @cakesandtom

#thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe x female reader #crimson peak fanfic #crimson peak fanfiction #the final lady sharpe #muddyorbs writes #fic requests #500 follower celebration

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marzipanandminutiae · 1 month

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A Crimson Peak Timeline

(based on the art book, documents shown onscreen in the movie, and the character bios GDT wrote- where the bios don't contradict film canon. I've attempted to combine the two where contradicting elements are unavoidable.

Sometime during the reign of Charles II (1660-1685). Edward Sharpe created Baronet for services to the crown in providing clay for construction projects. Allerdale Hall built in the parish of Above Derwent, Cumberland, England.

1841. Carter Everett Cushing born the second son of six in an impoverished family that traveled the eastern US for his father's masonry business.

1863. Beatrice Alexandra Chetwynde, eldest daughter of a large, wealthy family, marries Baronet James William Sharpe. The marriage is contracted solely for the Chetwyndes' land, which adjoins the Sharpe estate.

April 1, 1865. Lucille Sharpe born.

Sometime between 1865 and ~1873. Carter marries 18-year-old socialite Eleanor Wyndham-Beckford, to the immense disapproval of her family. Though she is disowned and the couple struggles to make ends meet for years, Carter ultimately becomes a successful developer.

February 18, 1867. Thomas Sharpe born.

C. 1867-1872. The Sharpes employ a wet nurse- and later nanny -named Theresa, who would become the only adult to care about the children in their lives. She would ultimately be sacked after Beatrice caught young Lucille snuggling with her for warmth on a winter's night (on the grounds that a noble child should not be close with servants- a "crime" for which Lucille was beaten severely).

1876. 11-year-old Lucille murders her father with poison distilled from mine tailings, after he took Thomas on a hunting trip and left him in the woods to die of exposure.

Late 1876? A mining vein near Allerdale Hall collapses, killing several child mine-workers. I could have sworn I read somewhere that James foolishly dug a mining tunnel under the house shortly before his death, and that's what destabilized it, but I can't find it now.

October 9, 1877. Edith M. Cushing born, after Eleanor had suffered several miscarriages.

1878. Thomas and Lucille begin a secret sexual relationship.

Early August, 1879. Beatrice catches Lucille and Thomas together; Lucille murders her to keep their secret. The siblings try to run away together but are caught and brought back. Thomas is sent to live with an aunt and uncle in Whitehaven (who in turn send him to boarding school), while Lucille is forced into a mental institution.

Probably summer, 1885. Thomas finishes his schooling and rescues Lucille; they return to Allerdale.

1887. The Sharpe siblings travel to London seeking investors for Thomas' venture to reopen the mines. A wealthy, terminally ill gentleman, Major Richard Upton, takes a liking to Thomas and begs Thomas to marry his disabled daughter, Pamela. At Lucille's urging- since they're running out of both options and money -Thomas agrees. The two attempt to poison Pamela to death, but Lucille ends up strangling her instead.

Sometime between October 1887 and October 1888. Eleanor Cushing dies of cholera and appears to Edith as a ghost.

Early-mid 1890s. Carter and the recently widowed Mrs. McMichael have a brief flirtation that both Edith and Eunice oppose. Though it goes nowhere, the rift between the two girls is never healed.

Late October or November 1892. Edith (age 15) becomes infatuated with a 25-year-old poet who is having marital difficulties. After convincing Carter to hire him as a tutor, all unknowing, she confesses her feelings to him. He not only takes his leave of the Cushing family, but of Buffalo itself, quickly moving away with his wife and children.

1893. The Sharpes travel to Edinbrugh, where Thomas again finds no investors but does attract the attention of a 36-year-old widow of means, Margaret McDermott. Once again, he marries her and helps Lucille poison her, though she is ultimately killed via blunt force trauma.

Summer 1893. Edith asks her best friend, Alan McMichael, to kiss her so she can write about kisses more accurately. It means nothing to her, but sparks an unrequited passion in Alan

1896. Lucille falls pregnant by Thomas. He travels with her to Italy, which he loves and she despises. There he meets a wealthy woman named Enola Sciotti, widowed and bereaved of her only child, and decides of his own accord to marry and murder her in their usual fashion. The Sharpes and Enola return to Allerdale.

1897. Lucille is delivered of a son, who may or may not be sickly. Enola tries to care for her and the child, promising she can save him. The baby either dies of natural causes or Lucille smothers him under the conviction that his cries mean something is terribly wrong with him and he can't live- this is one contradiction in the bios vs. the movie that I prefer to leave vague, since it's possible not even Lucille remembers what happened. Either way, she blames Enola and dispatches her by unknown means. Thomas patents his excavating machine.

Late summer(?) 1901. Alan returns from studying medicine in London and sets up an ophthalmology practice in Buffalo. Edith's debut novel, Figures In The Mist, is rejected for publication by Oglivie and Sons. Thomas seeks investment in the mines from Cushing and Co., unsuccessfully. Edith and the Sharpes begin a friendship. Edith sees her mother's ghost for the second time.

September 14, 1901. President William McKinley dies after being shot at the Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo. I include this because the fact that the movie doesn't is hilarious to me.

October 21, 1901. At the Cushings' dinner party, Carter bribes the Sharpes to leave, instructing Thomas to break Edith's heart or he'll tell her about the marriage to Pamela. A deleted scene reveals that he was on the verge of relenting and investing in the mines when he read the private investigator's report.

October 22, 1901. Lucille murders Carter at his club, then departs to return to England. Thomas and Edith become engaged.

Late October-early November 1901. Thomas and Edith are married and travel to Allerdale.

November-December 1901 (possibly into early 1902?). The rest of the movie's plot.

#crimson peak #long post #meta

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cowgurrrl · 11 months

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“But the horror… The horror was for love. The things we do for love like this are ugly, mad, full of sweat and regret. This love burns you and maims you and twists you inside out. It is monstrous love and it makes monsters of us all.” - Lucille Sharpe

“This is a story about love. That is not a good thing.” - Craig Mazin

In September 2003, you have a five-year-old, two jobs, one degree, and one deadly outbreak. By September 2010, you’d make it to Boston, and meet Joel and Tess. They don’t ask and you don’t tell them what happened in those seven years. You wouldn’t for several more years. Except, what exactly did happen to turn you from a young mother to a ruthless killer willing to do anything to survive?

Don’t Blame Me [5.0k]

Ptolemaea [3.8k]

It Will Come Back [3.3k]

Me and the Devil [3.9k]

It’s a shame that we’re not soul mates [5.0k]

Smoke Signals [3.5k]

Please Leave a Light on When You Go [1.3k]

United in Grief [1.8k]

Eight [2.2k]

Extras:

Please, Let Me Go: 2006 [1.1k]

#look for the light prequel #when you’re lost in the darkness #the last of us x reader #the last of us hbo #tlou fic

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hebuiltfive · 6 months

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Thundertober Day Fifteen: Piano

... Sorry for another sad fic. This one was inspired by Maisie Peters' song 'Two Weeks Ago', which is about a break-up but of course I twisted it into this. Tissues at the ready...

AO3 here

Days: One ~ Two ~ Three ~ Four ~ Five ~ Six ~ Seven ~ Eight ~ Nine ~ Ten ~ Eleven ~ Twelve ~ Thirteen ~ Fourteen

Warnings for: Grieving/Mourning/Loss "Now this songs for you, and it's all I have, and I wish it was two weeks ago." Jeff finds solace in playing Lucille's piano. Tagging: @thunder-tober@skymaiden32@idontknowreallywhy@mrmustachious

Did she know how much he had loved her?

Had he said it enough? Had he shown her enough?

Vows that had been made which had promised forever now seemed meaningless. Naive.

Because forever wasn’t possible. It had never been possible, but he had believed it.

The bubble had been burst, and now he was alone.

He felt that more acutely in the early hours of the day, before the sun had even risen.

The funeral had been yesterday. There had been so many people who had turned up. Some had been family, some had been friends, others had been colleagues and there were a few who had shown their face as a way of supporting the family who had been devastated by tragedy.

He’d heard many voices throughout the day, some he recognised and others that were unfamiliar to him.

“… so tragic…”

“… and with such a young family too…”

Jeff had tried to block them out. He had tried to block it all out. There were five young boys who still needed him, after all. He couldn’t afford to lose it.

But, in those early hours when only he was awake, Jeff allowed himself time to mourn.

It had taken him two weeks to even look in the direction of Lucille’s piano. She had only just started to teach Gordon, as she had once taught the older three. Only Virgil had seemed to inherit her talents, and by how the lessons had been going, Gordon wasn’t going to become a virtuoso like his older brother, but that wasn’t the point.

Gordon would never be able to finish those lessons with her.

Hell, no-one would ever be able to hear her play again.

He sat himself down on the stool, running a hand over the closed fallboard. Only two weeks and yet dust had already begun to gather. He swung the lid open, taking in the sight of the ivory keys. A sob slipped out.

Fingers pressed gently. Middle C.

Then another. D.

Jeff worked his way up the scale, then all the way down to the lowest key.

It rang out hollow, as though it mirrored his soul.

Before he knew it, he was softly playing one of Lucille’s favourite pieces. He was by no means as competent in his playing as she had been, but Jeff knew how to play the basics. Through his teary eyes, he missed a few keys here and there, but continued despite the errors.

A hand rested on his shoulder, a tender touch Jeff almost mistook for Lucille.

His son.

Virgil’s eyes were red and stains down his cheek marked the tears that had recently fallen.

How foolish Jeff had been to play so soon after her passing. How inconsiderate he had been to—

“You’re in the wrong key.” Virgil explained, shuffling into the space on the bench beside his father. “It’s supposed to be played in F Sharp, which are these chords instead.”

Jeff watched his second son’s fingers glide over ivory with expert precision and for a second, he didn’t see Virgil.

He had been trying his hardest to not break-down in front of his boys but, in that moment, the dam burst and Jeff couldn’t help it. Virgil stopped playing and looped one arm around his father’s shoulders. They sat for a while, sobbing and remembering and wishing they could reverse time. Two weeks ago wasn’t that far. Two weeks ago was nothing in the grand scope of the universe. And yet, two weeks ago might as well have been two centuries ago.

In the following months, seeing the piano became easier. Jeff encouraged Virgil to play, especially when Alan was having difficulty getting to sleep.

The more it was used, the less painful it became.

The more it was used, the more if felt like Lucille was still with them.

The more it was used, the easier the grieving became.

#thundertober 2023 #thunderbirds fanfiction #five fics #jeff tracy #virgil tracy #thunderbirds are go

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darklinaforever · 2 months

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When I am accused of romanticizing incest and grooming because I ship Daemyra, whereas when grooming is involved I recognize it, criticize it and have a tendency to despise the character who carried out this horror ! Wasn't it Lucille Sharpe who manipulated and groomed her own little brother ?! (Attention, I still love the character of Lucille. She is a fascinating complex character, I can't take that away from her. On the other hand, I definitely remain objective about the relationship she had with her brother ; Thomas, my little darling for the life that did not deserve so much misfortune)

Not to mention the characters of Tyler Galpin and Kylo Ren having also undergone grooming ? But obviously no one talks about them since they are men! And that the anti will have a tendency to demonize these two characters, refusing to recognize their victim status in order to make them into pure monsters having manipulated the poor young women in front of them (Wednesday Addams and Rey) ! There is definitely this tendency to demonize men and infantilize women during our era which wants to be so feminist.

Especially since I've already seen the Grooming story come out for Wyler and Reylo, but reversed, claiming that these young men groomed these young girls ! Either by transforming the canonical age of Tyler in addition to ignoring the canonical events making him a victim of grooming (nice try but failed), and for Reylo, although the characters are both adults, use their almost 10 years (I think ?) of age difference to shout about grooming ! (Definitely the use of this word is really trivialized these days) Yes ! Let's infantilize women, such as Rhaenyra Targaryen (who ironically always goes from victim to whore / aggressor with the anti, sometimes within the same episode, showing all the consistency they demonstrate in their speeches) or Alina Stakov by saying that they were groomed by Daemon Targaryen and The Darkling (Both stripped by many fans of their complexity / the fact that they are gray characters to make them pure monsters who are attackers and rapists of women, while there are canonical rapists around them in these universes respective !) to fix our anti discourse and pretend to be feminist ! Great to compare that to womens who fully choose to be with the men they want !

youtube

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diamondcrownacademy · 5 months

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DCA Info Part 49: Ella’s Family and Confidants 👠

Art colored by @au-ni-ro

For more information on Ella, click here!

Ella's Family

Gaspard Antoine Glaciel (ガスパール・アントワーヌ・グラシエル, Gasupāru Antowānu Gurashieru)

Twisted from: Cinderella's Father from Cinderella (1950)

Ella's Father. A soft-hearted, humble man who likes aromatherapy and indoor gardening in contrast to his wife, Emellette. He makes exquisite shoes that the locals sought after. His business was only known in the Glasswork Kingdom until he was finally taking the gamble to set up a shop outside of his home country. Devastated after Emellette's passing , Gaspard married Lucille due to mutual benefit, but no affection was involved in their relationship. He ended up filing a case against her upon discovering that she was abusing his daughter, Ella. He became more attentive to his daughter after the divorce, but his heart became closed off to any potential bachelorettes until he met Claudette.

Emellette Glaciel (エメレット・グラシエル, Emeretto Gurashieru)

Twisted from: Cinderella's Mother from Cinderella

Ella's Mother. An adventurous woman who likes to hunt and go horseback riding, she proposed to Gaspard first, she was always such a kind and bold woman. She passed away due to an illness when Ella was a child. She was known for her beautifully crafted jewelry sets and many women would chat with her to see what new jewelry set should they expect from her. She even made her daughter a blue bird jewelry set before her passing.

Lucille Luciferia (ルシール・ルシフェリア, Rushīru Rushiferia)

Twisted from: Lady Tremaine from Cinderella (2015)

Ella's first and former stepmother. A vain and cruel woman who sought to climb the social ladder by any means necessary. She worked as an educator but was known to be very strict and harsh to students, even going so far as to abuse them, this includes Ella. She had no shame in wearing jewelry that was owned by Gaspard's first wife, flaunting it, and being boastful to people whenever they go to gatherings. Lucille pays no attention to her son's bullying of Ella, she turns a blind eye and even tells her that her father won't believe her if she tries to tattle on them. After Gaspard divorced and filed a restraining order on her, she ended up being socially disgraced and had to live in her relative's house along with her sons because she was also fired from the school she worked at.

Edwin and Roman Luciferia (エドウィン・ルシフェリア & ローマ・ルシフェリア, Edō~In Rushiferia & Rōma Rushiferia)

Twisted from: Drizella and Anastasia Tremaine from Cinderella (1950)

Lucille's sons and Ella's stepbrothers. Edwin is an egotistic and selfish young man who constantly picks on Ella by scaring her or playing mean pranks. He vies himself as the best and has an ego as fragile as glass, he will retaliate by berating the person who calls him out. He abuses his status as a noble to get what he wants and put innocent people in harm's way. Roman on the other hand is quiet young man who has a calculating gaze and sharp tongue. He hurls harsh words towards Ella because his mother and brother do it. Although he picks on her because Edwin doesn't play his pranks on him for once, so his situation is mainly a target directing the negativity onto someone weaker.

Claudette Darlington (クラウデット・ダーリントン, Kuraudetto Dārinton)

Ella's second and current stepmother who got married to Gaspard after they realized that they fell for each other. She works in the tea business, selling an assortment of tea leaves and tea sets. She is a professional yet patient mother, she doesn't force Ella to trust her since she can tell that the trauma still affects her. She gives Ella her space and time to adjust until she can finally open up to her.

#confidant info #DCA info #diamond crown academy

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leonardcohenofficial · 1 year

Photo

i watched 120 new-to-me films this year; here are the posters from a few of my favorites in no particular order!!

faults (riley stearns, 2014) out of the blue (dennis hopper, 1980) wake in fright (ted kotcheff, 1971) entergalactic (fletcher moules, 2022) histoires d'amérique: food, family and philosophy (chantal akerman, 1989) the woman king (gina prince-bythewood, 2022) waking life (richard linklater, 2001) on the count of three (jerrod carmichael, 2021) thank you and good night (jan oxenberg, 1991)

i’ll tag @lesbiancolumbo / @draftdodgerag / @localpubliclibrary / @calicoskiesacoustic / @jerrylandis / @columbosunday / @harrierdoobie / @sightofsea and anyone else who’d like to do this!! 🌟

entire watchlist from 2022 is below the cut:

the world to come (mona fastvold, 2020)

nancy (christina choe, 2018)

la bouche de jean-pierre (lucile hadžihalilović, 1996)

run (aneesh chaganty, 2020)

the mosquito coast (peter weir, 1986)

mass (fran kanz, 2021)

a field in england (ben wheatley, 2014)

angels wear white (vivian qu, 2017)

a cape cod christmas (john stimpson, 2021)

shook (jennifer harrington, 2021)

outing riley (pete jones, 2004)

love & mercy (bill pohlad, 2014)

small engine repair (john pollono, 2021)

the fallout (megan park, 2021)

clemency (chinonye chukwu, 2019)

red elvis (thomas latter, 2022)

calendar girls (nigel cole, 2003)

the little hours (jeff baena, 2017)

out of the blue (dennis hopper, 1980)

aya of yop city (marguerite abouet and clement oubrerie, 2013)

fresh (mimi cave, 2022)

jesus camp (rachel grady, 2006)

bamboozled (spike lee, 2000)

master (mariama diallo, 2022)

the world of us (yoon ga-eun, 2016)

jezebel (numa perrier, 2019)

the cat, the reverend and the slave (alain della negra and kaori kinoshita, 2009)

cohabitation (lauren barker, 2022)

the queen of versailles (lauren greenfield, 2012)

secret ceremony (joseph losey, 1968)

the northman (robert eggers, 2022)

the silent partner (daryl duke, 1978)

in secret (charlie stratton, 2013)

the ground beneath my feet (marie kreutzer, 2019)

the man who haunted himself (basil dearden, 1970)

woodlands dark and days bewitched: a history of folk horror (kier-la janisse, 2021)

the miseducation of cameron post (desiree akhavan, 2018)

roadrunner: a film about anthony bourdain (morgan neville, 2021)

karen dalton: in my own time (richard peete and robert yapkowitz, 2020)

fire music (tom surgal, 2018)

histoires d'amérique: food, family and philosophy (chantal akerman, 1989)

fruit of paradise (věra chytilová, 1969)

a different image (alile sharon larkin, 1982)

preparations to be together for an unknown period of time (lili horvát, 2020)

candyman (nia dacosta, 2021)

fan girl (antoinette jadaone, 2020)

chicago 10 (brett morgen, 2007)

pray away (kristine stolakis, 2021)

mavis! (jessica edwards, 2015)

M (yolande zauberman, 2018)

wake in fright (ted kotcheff, 1971)

thomasine & bushrod (gordon parks, 1974)

desire me (released uncredited; jack conway, george cukor, mervyn le roy, and victor saville, 1947)

faults (riley stearns, 2014)

premature (rashaad ernesto green, 2019)

mother joan of the angels (jerzy kawalerowicz, 1961)

the loft (erik van looy, 2014)

the black phone (scott derrickson, 2022)

no exit (damien power, 2022)

nope (jordan peele, 2022)

paprika (satoshi kon, 2006)

our eternal summer (émilie aussel, 2021)

playground (laura wandel, 2021)

not okay (quinn shephard, 2022)

everything everywhere all at once (daniel kwan and daniel scheinert, 2022)

pressure point (hubert cornfield, 1962)

sharp stick (lena dunham, 2022)

on the count of three (jerrod carmichael, 2021)

martha marcy may marlene (sean durkin, 2011)

waking life (richard linklater, 2001)

sicaro (denis villeneuve, 2015)

arrival (denis villeneuve, 2016)

this magnificent cake! (emma de swaef and marc james roels, 2018)

chevalier (athina rachel tsangari, 2015)

young and wild (marialy rivas, 2012)

alice (krystin ver linden, 2022)

shame (steve mcqueen, 2011)

good madam (jenna cato bass, 2022)

black bear (lawrence michael levine, 2020)

speak no evil (christian tafdrup, 2022)

wet sand (elene naveriani, 2021)

the catholic school (stefano mordini, 2021)

poly styrene: i am a cliché (celeste bell and paul sng, 2021)

the violators (helen walsh, 2015)

the woman king (gina prince-bythewood, 2022)

the killing kind (curtis harrington, 1973)

oleanna (david mamet, 1994)

entergalactic (fletcher moules, 2022)

the more the merrier (george stevens, 1943)

primrose path (gregory la cava, 1940)

watcher (chloe okuno, 2022)

enemy (dennis villenueve, 2013)

darlin' (pollyanna mcintosh, 2019)

sissy (kane senes and hannah barlow, 2022)

till (chinonye chukwu, 2022)

black panther: wakanda forever (ryan coogler, 2022)

the hunt (thomas vinterberg, 2012)

the other side of the underneath (jane arden, 1972)

barbarian (zach cregger, 2022)

the intervention (clea duvall, 2016)

sorry to bother you (boots riley, 2018)

the silent twins (agnieszka smoczyńska, 2022)

tahara (olivia peace, 2020)

arranged (diane crespo and stefan schaefer, 2007)

swimming (luzie loose, 2018)

#like (sarah pirozek, 2019)

babysitter (monia chokri, 2022)

chico and rita (tono errando, fernando trueba, and javier mariscal, 2010)

pleasure (ninja thyberg, 2021)

john the violent (tonia marketaki, 1967)

fat girl (catherine breillat, 2001)

lemon (janicza bravo, 2017)

thank you and good night (jan oxenberg, 1991)

what about me (rachel amodeo, 1993)

the KKK boutique ain’t just rednecks (camille billops and james hatch, 1994)

sun don’t shine (amy seimetz, 2012)

zero fucks given (emmanuel marre and julie lecoustre, 2021)

piggy (carlota pereda, 2022)

ladyworld (amanda kramer, 2018)

wolf's hole (věra chytilová, 1987)

#we'll see if i can do 150 films next year lmao

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lucillesharpeismybaby · 6 months

Note

your dolls are lovely! for a future photo suggestion: what if adult Lucille going thru her childhood toys/props, or playing with young Thomas

Thank you for the suggestion! They're lovely.

I'd love to take pictures of adult&young Sharpes together! It may not be easy bc their proportions are quite different. They might look like different species. 😂 But i'll try somehow sometime!

#cpeakbjdproject #ask

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theflowerofthecommonwealth · 1 year

Text

Power Armor Punch Part Fifty Nine

Masterlist

(Trigger Warning for suicide attempt and severe self harm)

Lucille: I killed so many innocent people-! *the left side of her vision fills with a damage warning*

Nick: *sees the warning too, reaching out for him to stop* Gardio, stop-!

Lucille: *suddenly a sharp pain shoot through her shoulder as her arm is pulled apart and wires yanked out of their spots, soldered or not. Winces and screams, stumbling forward then breaking into a sprint*

Gardio: *covers his mouth in shock at the severed limb before pursuing her again, tears rushing along his face at what he's just done* Lucille-!

Ma: (Gasps in alarm at this, clutching her gun to her chest. She gives a quick glance at Nick before also going after the young woman who’s now down an arm and probably defenseless in her mental state)

Jasmine: (Keeps the shard in her side, blinking off with a thousand yard stare as everything bottled up in her mind jumps out to attack her in droves)

Donovan: (Still trying to find the right moment to cross the room and take the gun away from the girl, but she’s so sharp that he can’t move much) “Rosalinda, can you tell me what you want and or need? Anything at all. Even if it sounds impossible to achieve, we can work on inching towards it together.”

Jasmine: (Wants to die first off, but she’s sure that’s not what Donny means… Maybe she wants to get through ONE day without thinking about or doing anything terrible or saddening, along with sleeping throughout the night without a single nightmare. Just a normal, stress free day for once, maybe a happy filled one if she can be that lucky. But first she’ll have to deserve it, and she never will. This living hell is her well earned consequence for her actions)

Donovan: (Desperately) “Ro-Ro, please. Give me something to work with here…”

Jasmine: (Growls lowly, closing her eyes while more tears spill down her face)

Nick: *frowns. He doesn't know what's gotten into the woman*

Gardio: *running as fast as he can* Lucille, please don't do this!!

Lucille: *making serpentine movements. Wants to get lost in the fog and never be found*

Gardio: *won't let her*

Teshteal: *waited for a moment but decides to get up* I think they're going to need my nose. Lucille's making a run for it for some reason. *runs out the door and starts sniffing for Lucille and the others*

Joyce: (Reaches out to her boyfriend as he scurries out of the room, then draws back her hand, realizing that she’s now alone in the house at night. She slowly looks around the empty air with wide eyes) “Oh god…” (Reminds herself that Donny said that there was nothing lurking outside, yet she’s still frightened. She strains her ears for the sound of a boat approaching, holding her breath)

Pirate: (At the bottom of the makeshift elevator to the lighthouse, whining up towards the top)

Donovan: (Backs up at the growling. He’s walking on eggshells here) “Okay then… How about we both sit down on the sofa and take a breather for a moment, or maybe just you while I stand here. You’re looking a little green around the gills…” (Not to mention covered in cuts and blood) “I don’t want you to faint…”

Jasmine: (Stamps her feet and shakes her head, putting the arm that has the shard around her waist while letting the glass dig into the skin of her lower waist)

Donovan: (Realizes that Jazzy is probably feeling exposed and freezing right now due to not having much on. He wishes he had his coat to give her, or anything at all) “Are you cold? We are high up and it’s breezy in here. I’d go fetch you a jacket but I can’t leave you alone…” (Holds out his hand in a offering for her to take it)

Jasmine: (Hisses presses her back further into the wall, tightening her grip on the gun to the point her entire arm shakes)

Donovan: (Puts up his hands again, showing a bit of fear on his face) “I’m not your challenger or opponent, Rosie. I just want to get you to safety first, then I can help you work through whatever is going on inside your head.”

Gardio: *still chasing after his daughter, but he's starting to lose sight of her* No, no, no, no-! Lucille!

Nick: *listening for gun shots at this point*

Teshteal: *gets close enough to the group in a matter of moments* I'm tracking her.

Gardio: *realieved look* Good man. *nods*

Lucille: *trips and falls on her face, sending Kellogg's gun flying* N-no. I have to finish it- *struggles to get up. Winces and realizes she twisted her ankle. She starts to cry in frustration*

Ma: (Stopped to take care of some wolves that came over, shooting them and bashing them with the fury of a mother protecting her child)

Joyce: (Stands and starts slowly moving through the house as her heart pounds, creeping up the stairway)

Donovan: (Remembers how the girl cried out for her father after she got banged up the the trappers and how she’s been clinging to him ever since) “…Would you like to go down together so you can be with Detective Valentine? He seems to care about you dearly, he’s been by your side since he got back.”

Jasmine: (Sniffles, her eyes glimmering slightly at the mention of her Dad)

Donovan: (Notices that the mention of Nick brings little Rosie back into the sunlight and so he continues) “You really like him, don’t you? He seems like a good principled man, and a loving father to you.”

Jasmine: (Nods a little, suddenly feeling guilt claw at her chest when she thinks of all the trouble Nick has gone through to keep her alive and healthy, how heartbroken he gets when he sees his daughter destroy herself)

Donovan: (Holds both of his arms out to her, watching with concern as she starts trembling like a leaf in a raging storm)

Jasmine: (Feels so undeserving of the tender love and kindness Nick gives her, all she’s done is scream and cry to him. Maybe in the long run her being gone will make room for someone else to take her place, someone who deserves a father as generous as Nick)

Teshteal: *sniffs the air and darts to Lucille* Found her!

Gardio: Thank god!

Lucille: *trying to scramble for the gun* Just let me die!!

Nick: *kicks the gun away* No can do, doll.

Gardio: *sits and pulls her into his lap*

Lucille: Please-!! *having one hell of a mental break. She's squirming and fighting her father*

Gardio: Why do you want to die so badly?!

Lucille: The world would be so much better without me in it to fxck it up!!

Nick: Lucille that's a load of shxt and you know it. You know where I'd be right now if it weren't for you? Vault 114, as the world's most bullet riddled coat rack, that's where! The whole Commonwealth would be living under the Institute thumb without ya. You've made this place better. Not worse.

Lucille: *tears up* But all the people I went through to do those things- they had families!

Nick: *sighs* They did... but I've rarely seen you murder a man in cold blood, if at all. It's always been self defense.

Lucille: *knows that isn't true. The Prydwen wasn't self defense. Everyone there were merely defending themselves* Please... just let this failure die...

Gardio: *holding her tightly as she struggles* You're not a failure. *tearing up again* Please, stop calling yourself that... *looks up to Ma for help briefly before kissing his daughter's hair frantically*

Ma: (Shrugs off her jacket and slings her shotgun on her back, kneeling down beside the two. She drapes it around Lucille before gently holding her from behind so it’s harder for her to struggle) “Sshhhh, baby. Sshhh….”

Donovan: (Smiles at her despite the fear boiling inside his chest) “I sure your mom would’ve loved him too. She would’ve loved that such a kind man was taking care of her wild baby girl.”

Jasmine: (Swallows a lump in her throat with a strained cry, her knees getting even weaker. He’s right, Mamá would’ve adored Nick if she could’ve met him… But what if Nick is next on the chopping block for her terrible curse? She’s already straining the poor old detective to his limits just as she did to her mother and aunt)

Donovan: (Knows that Jas can play tough girl and warrior face all she wants, but at the end of the day she still just wants to snuggle her parent for comfort when things get rough. She can’t resist that feeling no matter how much sass or aggressive hisses she throws at people)

Jasmine: (Slumps against the wall so she’s partly doubled over, still holding the gun to her head but she’s aimed it away from her mouth. He fingers are getting heavier over the trigger)

Donovan: (Takes another chance at trying to approach)

Jasmine: (Weakly) “Stay away from me! You cannot be close…” (Starts to sob again) “Do not be close to me, please…”

Teshteal: I'm going to head back. I left Joyce alone and I'm sure she's freaking out. *scampers off. He doesn't mention the scent of blood because Nick has a hand in this situation. Hopes Jas isn't dead*

Gardio: You got a law degree before the war. That wasn't an easy task! You helped people! That is the exact opposite of a failure!

Nick: Vault 88 would be just a pit in the ground with a messed up mad lady as overseer without you! God- Curie- she'd still be stuck in 81 all alone. What would your wife do if you suddenly vanished, Luce? *kneels. Softly, worried for his friend* What about your kid? He'll miss you something fierce. Geneveve, too. She'd never exist without you now she's singing in Goodneighbor.

Lucille: *freezes when she hears Curie's name then resumes struggling knowing they have safe lives ahead of them* They'd be fine-!

Gardio: *shakes his head fiercely, remembering losing his wife* No- Not Curie. Remember how it felt when you lost Nate? The pain? The overwhelming grief? I don't know who Curie is but do you really want to put her through that same hell?

Lucille: *clarity hits her at the mention of Nate and compares it to what her wife would go through... guilt washes over her face but not for the atrocities she assumes she's committed*

Nick: *nods* She needs you, Luce. You don't want to let her down by pulling the trigger, right?

Lucille: *nods, holding back tears*

Nick: Then, chin up. *smiles reassuringly* I know the night just got darker, but it won't last forever.

Lucille: *sniffs* You've said that before...

Nick: And I'll say it again. As many times as you need.

Lucille: *just starts crying. Not even fighting anymore. Hearing him reassure her the same way he did right after killing Kellogg and finding out Shaun was in the Institute helps her more than the old synth knows*

Nick: Also you're still the best damn partner I've ever had. Can't let you die on me.

Lucille: *chokes out a laugh between her sobs. She'd smile and laugh at his remark if she wasn't relieving her pent up stress through her tears*

Gardio: *wonders if the worst is over for her. He prays it is...*

Ma: (Gently rubbing Lucille’s back, nodding along with what the two other men are saying)

Donovan: (Sees that he’s losing her again) “Don’t do that... It’s alright that you want comfort, it’s never been a weakness.” (Gives her a nod) “I won’t touch you, but you have to put down the gun, Rosie-Posie.”

Jasmine: (That’s not what she’s thinking at the moment, she doesn’t care how much she’s dressed or how much comfort she wants. She’s a danger to them, to everyone around her. Even if she’s not cursed, she’s sure as hell coded to kill people then spit on their corpses with a sick smile)

Donovan: (All he needs to do is to disarm the unstable girl, then he can carry her back downstairs kicking and screaming if that’s what it takes to bring her to safety. After that he’ll be sure Jas gets cleaned, bandaged, fed, then put back into bed even if she fights him on every turn. He saw that glimmer in her eyes, she’s IN there somewhere, and he’ll wait and care for her for however long it takes to set her free)

Jasmine: (Looks her childhood friend over, once again seeing the sweet goofy boy whom she loved to mess around with. He’s innocent, he has a good life here. She can’t taint that too, she can’t drag any of them down with her) (Coldly) “Turn around.”

Donovan: (Goes even more wide eyed, taking a step to her again as his heart pounds with dread) “What?!?”

Jasmine: (Through tears, shaking her head) “Turn the fuck around! Trust me, you do not want to see this.” (Takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, ready this time to follow through with what should’ve happened a long time ago)

Donovan: (Bolts forwards) “NO!!! DON’T!!!” (Grabs the girls arm and pushes it upwards high above her head just as she pulls the trigger, causing the bullet to go through the window instead)

Joyce: (Came outside to find Donny once she realized that she was probably safe, screaming when she hears the bullet shatter the glass from above) “DONNY!!” (Runs to the elevator and calls it down, panting)

Jasmine: (Goes feral when she’s kept from ending her life, her programming fighting skills taking ahold) “YOU DO NOT KNOW WHAT THE HELL YOU ARE DOING!!! YOU WILL ALL BE DEAD IF YOU LET ME LIVE!!!” (Makes a move towards the other bullets still in the case)

Donovan: (Kicks the back of her legs to make her fall partially into his arms, trying to pry the gun and shard out of her hands)

Jasmine: (Throws herself forwards, sending them both into a tussle on the ground for the gun)

Joyce: (Takes the elevator up, yelping again when she sees the two struggling against each other) “Donovan!”

Donovan: (Snatches the teen by the waist and pulls her in) “Joyce! Go downstairs.” (To Jasmine who’s wrangling in his arms) “Calm down, baby! Please!”

Jasmine: (Tries to flip him over, but her arms are too weak to lift him up by that much) “GET THE FUCK OFF ME AND LEAVE!!”

Joyce: (Fearfully with an outstretched hand) “But-!”

Donovan: (Pins Jas by her arms to the ground, wincing as she kicks his groin) “NOW!”

Joyce: (Crying as she presses the button to go back down, so confused and scared for her brothers safety and the teens sanity. She puts her arms around her chest to hug herself tightly as she walks back into the house)

Jasmine: (Raises the thick shard to her neck, trying to slit it as she can’t reach the gun and death isn’t coming soon enough)

Donovan: (Holds her wrist in his, pulling back so the shard partly slices her shoulder instead) “Stop it!”

Jasmine: “I WILL END UP KILLING ALL OF YOU JUST LIKE I DID WITH THEM!!! I CANNOT LIVE WITH THAT ANYMORE!!!”

Lucille: *starting to calm down*

Nick: *heaves a sigh of relief* How about we get you back to the house. You never finished your food...

Lucille: *nods and croaks* Yeah...

Teshteal: *makes it back to the house and immediately goes to Joyce when he sees the frightened look on her face* Angel? What happened? What's wrong? *takes her shoulders in his hands, looking into her eyes*

Joyce: (Points behind her to the laundry room door that’s open, shaking all over as she stutters) “Donny… the little girl… gunshots… She’s trying to…” (Feels her knees buckle a bit, so fearful for her brother because of how strong Jas is and how feral she was fighting)

Jasmine: (Sobbing hysterically. Donny isn’t Nick, he doesn’t know about the shit she did. He doesn’t know what she’s capable of. He only sees her as that wide-eyed kid who’d bubble around town with a smile on her face. That kid is dead, she’s been dead since the moment she chose to go down this path when she told her mother off)

Donovan: (Also doesn’t know that Jazzy blames herself for the death of her family, or what happened to her baby and the four kids. He just sees his little sister having a major mental breakdown while bleeding from cuts that are shaped into horrible insults and words. He can give a guess where she was told these things, but he doesn’t have any details other than what he heard from Teshteal about the vault)

Jasmine: (Gets the rage back into her and she shoves Donny aside with all her might, running and sliding to the gun and the box with the bullets)

Donovan: (Recovers quickly with a grunt of pain, diving back to stop her as she expertly reloads the emergency pistol) “YOU NEED TO STOP!!”

Jasmine: (Shrieks as she is knocked against the cabinets, struggling to kick Donny again and get the gun pointed back to her head)

Donovan: (Doing everything in his power to not let Jazzy prematurely end her own life. He has to put his body weight on top of her in order to do this, wincing a bit when she screams a different note)

Jasmine: (Puts her legs around his waist and swings them both to the floor, her landing in the pile of shards)

Donovan: (Scrambles to get Jas out of the glass so she can’t use it or accidentally cut herself)

Gardio: Here. I'll carry you. *stands, bridal carrying his daughter, the remains of her arm under his own. Nods to the others* Lets go.

Ma: (Makes sure that her coat is nice and snug around Lucille before she kisses her head and nods back at Gardio, taking the lead in guiding them back to the house with her shotgun out. God help anyone who tries to mess with them right now…)

Teshteal: *catches her when he knees start to buckle* Whoa. Easy, love. Slow down and talk to me... *strokes her hair out of her face gently*

Joyce: (Grips onto Teshteal, heaving heavy breaths while her mind races to explain things clearly) “They’re fighting up there… I heard a gunshot. The girl was crying and she had the gun in her hands… She was covered in blood…”

Jasmine: (Puts the gun back up to her head, screaming with frustration when Donny once more pins her arm to keep it away from herself) “Stop it!!” (Glass cuts her skin while she swings and swats at the ghoul)

Donovan: (Takes the kicks and hits the teens gives him like a champ) “I’m not stopping, child!”

Jasmine: (Pulls the trigger on the gun again, smacking him across the face when he winces at the loud noise. She sits up and backs against the wall with the gun pointed at her head)

Donovan: (Cups his cheek and stands, pointing at her) “WHAT WOULD YOUR MOTHER SAY TO THIS?!?”

Jasmine: (Freezes, shaking all over as she glares at Donny with bloodshot eyes) “She would not say shit because I am not her daughter!”

Donovan: “Bullshit! She loved you with all her heart just as she did with Cosmos and Lilac and the rest of us! You know that!!!”

Jasmine: “And yet she is dead along with my siblings! Because of me! Just like what happened to my first adopted father! And my baby! And those kids!!! My friends!!! The people in the vault! Settlers!” (Looks down at herself, squeezing her eyes shut) “ALL OF THEM ARE DEAD BECAUSE OF MY FUCKED UP SELF!!!”

Donovan: (Goes partially jaw dropped at her confession that he has several questions about, then takes the opportunity to spring forwards to tackle her once more and hold her arm away from her head, kneeling over her for a better hold)

Jasmine: (Lost in a pool of red of all the people that have crossed her path and died for it) “YOU ARE NEXT ON THE LIST!!! I AM FUCKING PLAYING WITH ALL OF YOU!!! YOU WILL DIE IF I LIVE!!!” (Sobs harder while she gaps) “I am playing with you! I am playing the role of the victim so I can eventually take what I want and kill all of you one by one! Because that is what they made me for!!”

Teshteal: *flinches hearing gun fire. He quickly leads Joyce to the couch* Stay here. I'm going to go see if I can sort this out. *runs to the light house door, absolutely obliterating the lock by kicking it. He runs up and freezes at what he sees. Wonders if he can give commands in this instance but considering the situation he pulls out the tone of an officer giving orders* A-001, Reset!!

Joyce: (Winces at the sound of the door being forced open, crying into her hands while she waits for Ma to come home or for her brother or boyfriend to come back down and explain what’s going on)

Nick: *walking along side them. Still worried for Lucille*

Gardio: *Just wants her to be okay*

Ma: (Hopes her two kids are doing alright, and Jazzy too. Lucille had pointed out that Jas was missing from the sofa and she assumed Donny went after her. She’s getting a motherly sense that something is terribly wrong back at home, and so far that instinct hasn’t lied to her)

Jasmine: (Has completely lost it already and is breaking through several layers of coding while at the same time letting it control her so she just screams something incoherent at Teshteal. He’s suppose to be her target, he can’t have control over her)

Donny: (Has literally zero clue on how to respond to Jasmines previous statement as he’s missing so many pieces of the puzzle. He’s sure that Jas doesn’t want to kill anybody, but he’s afraid of agitating her further if he tries to argue) “Help me hold her, she’s strong-!”

Jasmine: (Growls lowly and kicks Donny in the stomach to get him off her) “LEAVE ME BE FOR YOUR OWN DAMN GOOD!! I AM NOT WORTH THE FIGHT!!”

Donovan: (Falls back a considerable distance with a groan. She’s definitely getting much stronger, there might’ve been a crack from his bones at that one) “And your dad?!? What does he have to say about this?!? This can’t be the first time you’ve tried pulling this off!!!”

Jasmine: (Halts again, staring down the barrel of the gun while waterfalls stream down her cheeks) “Daddy…”

Donovan: (Nods, breathing a pained sigh as he grunts from the impact) “Yeah. Surely he knows more about you, right? Yet he’s still staying firmly by your side.” (Puts up a hand to stop Teshteal from approaching Jazzy. He doesn’t want to lose her to aggression as she’s incredibly unstable and fragile)

Teshteal: *freezes, keeping away until the time is right*

Ma: (Picks up speed, glancing back at the two men. She slows down slightly after a few minutes so she can whisper to Nick as to not worry Lucille or Gardio) “I-… Something is wrong at home.” (Looks back ahead, trying not to move too fast) “After taking care of people for two hundred years as a constant parental and maternal figure, you kinda develop a very strong second sense than most. It’s like an actual tingle in your skull.”

Nick: *nods and prepares for the worst. He gets ready to use the Reset code again*

Jasmine: (Whimpers as she eyes the gun, staring at her vague reflection in the shiny black casing. So tempting…)

Donovan: “I don’t think Detective Valentine would want to see his little girl go out like this. And I can tell you that neither I or Ma want watch you go either.”

Jasmine: (Sniffles, shaking her head as she sits up and backs against the wall) “You care too much about me… You are not suppose to give a shit what happens to my pathetic and worthless self…”

Donovan: (Sighs) “And who told ya that? The same people who said those horrible things to you?” (Gestures at the engraved words on her skin that are leaking blood everywhere)

Jasmine: (Coldly) “They knew me better than any of you ever will. They knew exactly what kind of damage I am capable of causing on innocent lives.”

Donovan: (Steers the conversation away from that) “I think your dad gives a shit what happens to your physical and mental health, no matter what people have said in the past or will say in the future.”

Jasmine: (Blinks on her tears, losing control of her breathing a bit but she stays alert. It would be horrible if Nick came up and saw her body on the floor surrounded by her own blood and insides) (Softly) “Daddy…”

Donovan: (Holds out his arms to her, offering another choice once more) “Wouldn’t you much rather be downstairs with him? I know you’ve always loved to cuddle, you could be doing that instead of being up here freezing and blood soaked.” (Pleadingly) “Please baby, put down the gun… I swear on my life that we’ll be able to work this out bit by bit.”

Jasmine: (Sniffles again, shuffling in the pile of shards) “I am not a baby or a kid!”

Donovan: (Sad smile at the teen girl) “I’m 15x your age, Rosie. I’ve lived through several lifetimes and eras during the apocalypse. You’re just a little baby girl compared to me.”

Teshteal: *slowly approaches the two on all fours like a timid animal, pupils saucers, making his expression softer. Softly* Rosie... I don't want to see you like this. I don't like seeing you like this. *begging her softly* Please listen to him... please let him help you. *looks so worried for the girl*

Ma: (Soon the group comes up to the path that leads to the house. The main gate is wide open and she can see the modified Mr Handy still patrolling the premises)

Jasmine: (Blinks at Teshteal for a moment with trembling lips, remembering that she wanted to kill him in cold blood not too long ago, and when he came into the room she got a spark of that feeling from the programming. She shakes her head vigorously)

Donovan: (Still holding out his arms to the teen, inviting her to fall into an warm embrace)

Jasmine: (So badly wants to deep down inside, but there’s a million reasons why she shouldn’t. She thinks of her Dad, then what has happened to Lucille because of her... She’s destroying this family from the inside) “He is going to be next… This family will be next on the chopping block…”

Donovan: “You didn’t kill your family, Rosie. Those deaths are not on you.”

Jasmine: (Angrily snapping, getting frosty eyes once more) “YOU DO NOT KNOW THAT!!! As long as I am still here, your days are numbered!! I will keeping going batshit until someone dies!!!” (Shaking all over again, staring down at the gun) “I am not worth saving for the cost…”

Donovan: (Inching towards her, glancing at Teshteal as Jas is getting riled up) “You’re not doing us any favors by trying to go through with this!!! Please put down the gun, you’re not thinking about this the right way!!!”

Teshteal: You didn't get them sick... you had nothing to do with how they died. *sniffs, remembering his own family- all whiped out from the bombs. Their bodies nothing but silhouettes on the walls. That wasn't his fault. That was the fault of the war* I know what it's like... but you aren't responsible for things beyond your control. *keeps inching forward. Softly* The voices are wrong, Rosie... Why would the people who hurt us ever tell the truth?

Nick: I'll go on ahead. *walks in and notices Joyce on the couch with her face in her hands. He frowns at that then deeper as he sees the lighthouse door. He approaches it*

Joyce: (Raises her head when Nick comes in, relieved that he’s back. She points to the laundry room as he passes) “The girl has a gun… Donny and Teshteal are trying to help her…”

Jasmine: (Growls lowly at the two men, labeling them as threats) “You are wrong. They would not have died if I did not come into the picture in the first place.” (Closes her eyes again) “The voices are right, they have almost always been…”

Donovan: (Takes the chance at tackling Jasmine when he sees an opening as he’s the closest)

Jasmine: (Fires the gun twice when she feels herself being brought to the floor, screaming at Donny to get off as she kicks and punches with all her strength)

Donovan: (Has an incredibly hard time at keeping the feral girl under control, he can barely keep her on the ground for a second before she’s flipping him over and hitting at his chest while the glass on the floor cuts at him)

Joyce: (Yelps at the sound of gunshots as they echo loudly from the lighthouse, covering her mouth with both of her hands. She hopes none of those had hit anyone…)

Ma: (Hears them as well from outside, rushing up to the door in a panic) “JOYCE! DONOVAN!”

Nick: *charges up the stairs as soon as he hears the shots. As soon as he crosses the steps* A-001, ZERO DAY. *not taking any chances this time*

Jasmine: (Gasps when she hears that command word that tells her to go completely numb and neutral from her father, but her mind is so fragmented that she just crumbles to the glass covered floor in defeat. She curls into a ball with the gun clutched to her chest like a teddy bear, weeping loudly while trying to cover up as much as she can with her arms and legs)

Donovan: “Oww, damn…” (Winces as he slowly rises from the ground so he’s kneeling instead, brushing off the glass from his body. He’s sore all over now and has a killer headache, but it’s nothing a little radiation and rest can’t fix)

Nick: *picks her up, taking the gun out of her hands and tossing it aside. His mechanical heart sinks seeing the words. Softly, reassuringly, but pained* Come on, kitten. Let's get you patched up. *before he carries her out of the room to Donovan* When he's available, might want to ask Gardio to shoot some radiation your way. *heads down to the med room to start fixing her up. He'll snap her out of zero day when she's bandaged up. He'll keep reassuring her through out so she knows she's safe*

Donovan: (Taking a moment to regain himself after the fight) “Yeah, I’ll see if I can.” (Slowly stands and hobbles over to the sofa, glancing around at the now messed up room)

Gardio: *takes Lucille up to her room and lays her in bed*

Lucille: *winces* My my ankle...

Gardio: *pulls out some med-x and gives her a shot* Ssh. *sets her arm to the side* You're going to be alright.

Lucille: *whimpers a little* I'm sorry...

Gardio: *strokes her forehead* It's okay...

Ma: (Bursts into the house, immediately rushing over to Joyce) “Baby what’s wrong?” (Lifts the young women’s face to hers, looking her over) “Are you hurt? What happened?”

Joyce: (Puts her hands on Ma, taking a deep breath) “Rosie was fighting with Donovan, and she had a gun. Teshteal went up when he came back and now the girls father is with them as well.”

Ma: (Worried about everyone at the moment, there are three people she wants to attend to. Lucille has her father looking after her and Jas is with Nick, Teshteal, and Donny while Joyce is alone. So first she needs to calm down her daughter) “And you? You’re not hurt, are you?”

Joyce: (Shakes her head) “Just a little rattled, Donny didn’t let me come close but I saw them fighting and heard the gunshots.”

Jasmine: (Chokes on her sobs and starts kicking the air while swatting at her Dad with one hand while the other clutches a shard she picked up, her mind shattered enough and dead set on dying for everyone’s sake that she can partly break through her programming)

Nick: A-001, reset. *trying to get her to go limp just so it's easier to attend to her on his own. He lays her out in the med room and takes the glass shard away from her, tossing it in the garbage behind him*

Gardio: I'll be right back, sweetheart. *runs down into the med room and quickly grabs supplies. He doesn't dare look at Jas- he's had enough heart ache for one day*

Jasmine: (Weakly whimpers as she goes completely limp on the cot, still hiccuping on her cries. Her mind tries to go through a full recount, but all she sees is white and black splotches. She’d be terrified out of her mind if it was someone else standing over her while she’s probably at her most vulnerable state ever, but she isn’t scared even the slightest as it’s just Nick who’d never dream of hurting her)

Teshteal: *knows he can't help Jas... but he can help Joyce. He slinks back down to the living room. Timidly from near the end of the couch looking like a kicked pup, worried she might be mad at him for leaving her alone and not comforting her when he got back* Joyce...?

Ma: (Held Joyce close so she didn’t have to see Jasmine while Nick walked by, stifling a cry herself when she catches a glimpse of the bloodied girl. She looks up at Teshteal with a sad smile when he arrives, then down at her daughter to see what she wants)

Joyce: (Raises her head when her boyfriend returns, so relieved that Teshteal is alright. She pats the seat on the sofa besides her to invite him to sit) “Hi… Are you okay? How’s Donny doing?”

Ma: (Wondering the same thing, already giving Teshteal a once over with worried, motherly eyes)

@lucilleandherrobots

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout original character #fallout oc #fallout role play #fallout rp

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