#is in the lyrics for impossible woman like yes
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Oneshot: Trouble
Pairing: Dark!Joel Miller x Innocent!Reader
AO3 Crosspost: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44157645
Summary: Ellie's gone. She ran away a while ago, after she discovered Joel's lie. It was a lie he had to make for his own sake because he couldn't handle losing her but still, he lost her. Now, he walks the wasteland alone, searching for purpose…and that's when he stumbles onto you. A bright, young woman who had gotten through the worst of it without losing her innocence to a world gone mad. If only you knew what was in store for you now that Joel has found a new person to latch onto…
Word Count: 8.2k+
A/N: As always, please read through ALL the warnings before proceeding: porn with plot, dead dove: do not eat (this story is not for the faint of heart so don't say i didn't warn ya), borderline non-con, dark!joel miller, loss of virginity, dom/sub undertones, age gap, use of the word "daddy"/"baby girl", bondage, forced orgasms, gunplay, praise kink, somnophilia, size difference, genuine fear/peril, death threats, cum play, rough sex, sexual coercion, squirting, breeding kink (unprotected piv, possible pregnancy/pregnancy talk), angst, mentions of violence, degradation, references to death
This fic will contain spoilers to TLOU Part One, so if you haven't played the game, please be aware that I will be referencing canon events. Hope you enjoy the sinister Joel I've made up and yes, I did based the physical description off Pedro Pascal's portrayal of Joel ~ ♡
It's been months since Ellie left Joel. He had gone out to look for supplies, since she had been sick. It wasn't until he got back and saw that she had taken up everything she could carry that he realized it had all been an act to let his guard down.
He had thought they were past what had happened at the hospital, since it's been almost five years, but the truth is…he knew what he had done was unforgivable. She was the cure. She wanted to die for the cause. She knew what she had to do but he was the one who wasn't ready to let her go.
This is the price he will pay for it.
It breaks Joel down more and more every day that passes as he scavenges the east coast, hoping he'll find clues of Ellie's whereabouts somewhere. Though, he taught her well, which meant he was almost certain she'd be hard to find.
If she's smart, which he knows she is, Ellie would've made it to the north before the winter began. That way, there's no chance of Joel ever catching up to her in the snow.
With a heavy sigh, Joel makes his trek up the state highway, weaving through abandoned cars. He'll be in New York soon. There once was a station there, but it quickly grew overcrowded and fell soon after.
Not enough food for people to eat, not enough protection for people to survive.
The infected would be roaming in the city, but Joel knew to avoid the densely populated areas. He didn't want trouble.
And yet, trouble always finds him.
Trouble had a name this time. Your name, though he didn't know it just yet.
Instead, as he watches you from a distance, Joel calls you baby girl in his mind, seeing how much younger you were than him. It was obvious you were older than Ellie though. You were an adult, a young one, but an adult all the same. It makes him wonder how you ended up here all alone.
You're humming to yourself, as if the thought of a threat nearby didn't phase you. It's a song he has heard before. Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks. He can almost hear the guitar riff, but it wasn't anything he could play.
However, at this moment, he wished he could.
Seeing you happily whispering the lyrics to yourself as you take down your laundry fills Joel with a kind of desire that taints his soul. It's dark and twisted, the way he wants to bottle up your joy and keep it all for himself.
How could you be so carefree in a world gone mad? It's as if no one has ever hurt you before.
Maybe…you didn't even know the infected existed.
That's impossible, but it looks like you're completely self-sufficient. You have a lake house and he can see the fishing equipment. You also have a garden with rotating crops that are growing well despite the incoming winter.
Who taught you to live life like this?
Peaceful, alone, without a care.
Joel is almost…disappointed. He'd imagine if anyone else had stumbled upon you, you'd be taken easily. You were like the easiest prey for a hungry predator, since you were clueless to the danger you could be in.
It makes Joel want to protect you…but it also makes him want to own you. There's an insatiable need to show you how much you need him to keep you safe, from people just like him.
So, that's exactly what he's going to do. Joel will make you his. He will weave himself into your life until you can't possibly live without him anymore.
That way, you'd never leave him like Ellie did…
❅❅❅❅❅
Today's catch went swimmingly, as it always does. You reeled in enough to have extra to dry into tasty jerky. Winter is approaching and you start to see your breath in the air, knowing that a storm is brewing. You'll have to start chopping some more firewood to store in the basement in case it's an extra cold winter. The temperature has been dropping every passing year, while the summers have gotten hotter.
You're thankful you won't have to think about summer preparations right now. Having to deal with those forest fires took up so much of your time. Winter is destructive as well, but at least it requires you to stay in instead of slave away all day.
Another winter alone, though. You let out a sigh at the thought. How long has it been since everyone you loved passed away?
You're tired of burying people…
Last month, you had to clean up the house a few miles down the lake. You hated having to do it, but your parents taught you well. The moment someone died, you needed to put them out of their misery or they'd fester and become worse creatures than the resurrected undead.
So, you put a bullet in their head and dug a grave for them. Then, you would spend hours rummaging through their house for any supplies before giving it a good thorough cleaning. It was your way of laying them to rest.
You'll miss that man though. Neither of you exchanged names, but you would trade fish for some of his pepper plants. Sometimes, he'd have canned goods for you that he had made himself. You still have some in your basement now. That'll help for the winter.
All these thoughts help you get through deboning your catch. You light up your wood fire stove so you can make a serving of stew and start the dehydrating process. It isn't until everything is in the pot that you register the rustling outside.
Is that the wind or…no, it can't be.
No one ever comes around these parts. It's so hidden by the trees that only an experienced person would think someone lives out here. That's sort of why your parents bought this house. It was secluded in the best kind of way, which aided a lot when everything went to shit. You were born here, raised here and will likely die here.
However, you weren't expecting that day to come so soon. Whoever is out there…they won't hurt you, will they? Your nerves heighten as you walk towards your door, debating if you should grab your gun.
You don't, because the person knocks.
It's a gentle knock, just three light taps. You calm down a little at that. You figure if it was a malicious person, they'd just break down your door. You haven't ever encountered a malicious person before, since you try not to believe everyone is bad. The people you know have all been kind, despite everything.
You hope this person will be the same.
So, you open your door and…
"Hello there." The older man at your doorstep says in his southern accent. "I was just passing through and I noticed you had a fire going. I don't mean to bother, but would it be alright for me to spend the night here, away from the cold?"
You look the man up and down. He doesn't seem like a threat, though he does have a rifle on his back and a pistol tucked at his belt. He's wearing a brown jacket with a flannel underneath along with several other layers that look like they're getting soaked through from the light snow that's starting already. He has a patchy beard with some grays in it along with soft brown hair that matches his eyes.
The man doesn't look intimidating, besides the weapons he's carrying.
So, you do what your parents had always done when people stumbled upon your little house and tell him, "you can stay the night if you agree to bury your weapons somewhere outside. There's a shovel out back. Choose any spot away from my garden, please."
"I will happily take that offer, thank you." His voice is smooth and gentle, so you ease up a little as you watch him leave to go fulfill your request.
The man returns later with just his bag and as a show of faith, he empties it at the doorstep so you can see what he has in it. You notice how few supplies he has, so you sift through your cabinets for some spare canned goods.
"You can have these." You bring them to him. "I've got plenty."
"You're very kind." He gives you a brief smile before taking the cans from you. "Are you always this welcoming to strangers?"
"I wouldn't call you a stranger. You're simply a traveler passing through. Nothing strange about that in our world."
You quickly leave after you say that to give him a change of clothes, since his are soaked and the spare in his bag doesn't look very warm.
"Would you like to use my bath?" You ask, pointing over at the bathroom down the hall. "I haven't heated any water, so it'll be a minute, but you can take a nice, warm bath if you'd like."
"That sounds wonderful." He seems pleased with your offer. "You're a very good girl, treating me with such hospitality."
"We all deserve some normalcy." You leave him with those words so you can go start the fire for the bath water.
It takes around half an hour to boil enough water in intervals, since your stove is quite small and you can only carry so much water at a time. Though, the man, who lets you know that his name is Joel, helps with that, lugging the pot of water back and forth for you until the tub is filled. You tell him to take his time and that dinner will be ready whenever he's done.
When Joel finishes his bath, he meets you in the kitchen and you pour him a bowl of stew, which you invite him to eat by the fire. You've already eaten your portion so you opt to spend time organizing stock since the storm is coming in stronger than you anticipated. You haven't harvested your winter vegetables yet and you should probably do that now before they get buried.
"Something on your mind?" That southern accent sounds close now and you look up to see Joel standing beside you, empty bowl in his hand. "Thanks for the stew, it was delicious."
You smile, taking it from him so you can quickly wipe it clean and set it aside. Then, you answer his question with a light sigh, "I didn't expect the snow to start falling so quickly. I need to go out and salvage what I can from my garden before I'm snowed in."
"Can I help with that?" Joel offers and you shake your head.
"I can't ask you to do that. You just bathed, plus you're my guest."
"I can always bathe again. You shouldn't be out there alone right now. Let me help." His voice has this tinge of leadership in it that makes you want to follow him, so you eventually agree.
"Alright. In exchange, you can have some of the harvest." You make him a deal.
"Can I ask for something else?" Joel catches you by surprise with that. "Would it be okay if I stayed here until the storm ended?"
"Oh…" He's right. If the storm has started already, he'd be stranded out there if you kicked him out tomorrow.
But, is it really smart to spend an entire storm with a man you've just met?
You can't let him trek through the storm though, so you tell him, "if you help me with some repairs around the house, then you can stay as long as you'd like."
"I'd like that." His smile makes your heart skip a beat.
The rest of the evening is spent shoveling snow and pulling out as many vegetables as you and Joel can carry back and forth to the house before the storm gets significantly worse. You're both soaked head to toe and you're freezing once you both get back into the house. The fire isn't going to warm you up, so you'll definitely need a bath. But, you don't want Joel to get sick, so you offer to have him bathe first, but he declines, since you need to too.
"One of us is going to get sick waiting to bathe." You tell him as you start boiling the water for the bath.
"Then why don't we bathe together?"
Your ears must have been deceiving you and you turn to Joel, who is peeling off his soaked outer layer. He doesn't seem phased at all by what he just said but you're flustered.
"H-how would that work?" You're suddenly feeling warm all over, despite your shivering.
"It'll be like sharing a hot tub." He says with a chuckle. "Just keep your underwear on. I can keep my shirt on too, if you're more comfortable that way."
Now you're embarrassed for a whole other reason. Why did you just assume he meant getting into the bath with him naked? There's no way he'd ask that of you and you feel bad that you even thought such a thing.
"That would work. You don't have to keep your shirt on, but I think I will." You're too shy to be that bare in front of him, but keeping your shirt and underwear on is fine. He doesn't say anything else about it as you both start prepping the bath once again.
When it's ready, you realize there's another problem with this scenario. It's not all that big of a bath. How would you both fit?
"You'll just have to sit between my legs." Joel tells you while he strips. "I'll get in first and guide you into a comfortable position."
You let him take the lead, though you turn away when he pulls off his shirt and don't turn back until you hear him get into the bath. Then, you strip as quickly as you can, leaving yourself in just your shirt and underwear. Joel puts his hand out and you take it, letting him help you in. He has you sitting between his legs, with your back against his chest, and…it's oddly nice.
The bath water is very warm and your shirt rises a little since there's air under it, so you try your best to smooth it out, though that doesn't help much.
"Do you want to take it off?" Joel asks you, his warm breath tickling the back of your ear.
"I…" You would but… "I'm not wearing anything underneath."
You aren't the biggest fan of bras. They're only good when you're exercising or doing some heavy lifting and don't want your breasts to get in the way. So, you don't wear them regularly unless you feel the need to.
"I won't look." He rests his chin on your head. "I'll keep my eyes up so you can get comfy."
That would be nice. It's odd how easy things are around Joel because you feel like you can trust him to do as he says, so you opt to pull off your shirt, tossing it aside. It hits the floor, the wet sound echoing through the room. You adjust yourself so that your breasts are submerged beneath the water and when you tilt your head up, Joel has his lifted to the ceiling, not stealing any glances at you.
Though, it wasn't his eyes you should've been worried about. You hadn't noticed where his hands were resting until you felt one of them slide up to cup your breast and the other slips down into your underwear. You're about to say something but then Joel rolls his thumb over your nipple and you can't stop the light moan that leaves your lips at the sudden sensation.
"Does that feel good, baby girl?" He whispers right into your ear with such sultry affection. "Do you want daddy to keep touching you like this?"
Before you can reply, Joel presses a finger against your entrance and forces his way into you, making you gasp. Your toes curl when his finger does, filling you up so much out of nowhere. It's nothing like when you touch yourself and in combination with his other hand teasing your breasts, you can't hold in the soft whimpers from how good it feels.
You need to tell him to stop, but then he thrusts another finger inside of you and you cry out from how much he's stretching you out. You've never been this full before.
"You're so tight." That word lingers in the air and you're getting dizzy from his seductive tone. "Has no one ever touched you before?"
You shake your head, not knowing why you're able to answer him but not able to tell him to stop…
"Are you telling me this is all mine?" He pushes up against a spot inside of you with his fingers that makes your whole body shiver in reaction. "You're sucking me in, baby girl. I'm jealous of my own fingers."
There's so many questions you want to ask him, like why he's doing this to you and why it feels good even though you shouldn't want a random man you just met to touch you, but none of those questions can be asked when every breath you take is stolen by a moan or whimper.
Something's building inside of you, that tension you've only felt on occasion when you've been bored and masturbated. However, this is even more intense than those times, because you're not the one setting the pace.
Joel is aggressive with his touch, fingering you at a pace you wouldn't be able to. Then, every now and then, he spreads them, reminding you of how big his fingers are as they stretch you out.
You're on the cusp of your orgasm and that scares you.
Why are you about to cum from this?
Why aren't you stopping him!
"Don't hold it in." He urges you to let go. "Cum for your daddy."
You're not my—you can't seem to finish your own thoughts because he's forcing your orgasm onto you, his fingers ruthlessly grinding against that spot inside of you that makes you cum hard. You're thankful you're in the bath right now because you swore, you squirted for the first time. You've never came that much before, tears streaming down your eyes from the intensity of it.
The pleasure sears every inch of your skin, making it hotter than before and the steam from the bath isn't helping your mind calm down. You're getting lost in that daze and it's not ending.
Especially not when Joel keeps going and he adds another finger, spreading you wide open. You're gasping for air from how filled you feel and he must not like that because he takes his other hand and shoves his fingers into your mouth. You gag on them, not expecting to have his fingers invade your mouth, but he doesn't care that you feel that way.
Instead, he goes, "be a good girl and enjoy yourself."
You wonder how you're supposed to enjoy yourself when your mouth is as full as your pussy is but soon enough, you understand. Every moan you want to make is forced back down your throat by his fingers and it's hard to breathe like this but that just causes your body to tense up more around his fingers. They're hitting you so deep inside that you're going to cum again all too quickly.
You try to tell him to stop but your words come out all gurgled up from the saliva pooling up in your mouth since his fingers are playing with your tongue. You're practically drooling and you try to swallow, but that means you have to suck on his fingers to do so, which only riles him up more.
"That's good practice, baby girl." He encourages you to keep doing that to prepare yourself for something else. "I can't wait to bury my cock in this pretty little mouth and your tight wet pussy."
You're on the verge of tears again and you don't know if it's out of fear or arousal as you get closer and closer to your next orgasm. You don't want his cock anywhere near you but you realize then that he's been pressing his hard cock up against your back this whole time. If you thought his fingers filled you up, you were certain his cock would break you.
You start to panic, trying to shove his arm away from you so he can stop fingering you but that only angers him. So, Joel retaliates by pulling his fingers out of your mouth and wrapping his hand around your throat, squeezing it hard.
"Don't make me kill you." He threatens and you go completely still. "I don't want to, but if you keep misbehaving, I will."
"Please…" You sob out of pure fear. "Don't hurt me."
"I would never want to hurt you. You're my precious girl, so don't make me do anything I don't want to, okay?" He lightens his hold on your neck then and you inhale as much air as you can, trying to find your composure. "You're going to cum for me again and then I'm going to take you to bed. Understood?"
You don't want to say it but he'll kill you if you don't so you nod and tell him, "I understand."
"Address me correctly when you're talking to me." His fingers press into your neck, as a little warning.
You swallow your nerves then go, "I understand, daddy."
"Good girl. Daddy likes it when you listen." He gives you a soft kiss on the cheek, changing his tone all too easily. "Now, let me spoil my baby girl."
You brace yourself as his fingers curl their way back inside of you, going much more gently this time. Strangely, it's not enough to get you close. His pace is too slow, too soft, and you're trembling from how much you want him to be rougher with you.
"Say what you want." It's like he can read your thoughts. "Tell me and I'll do it for you."
You shouldn't say anything but your body is craving that feeling too much, so you give in and say, "more, please. I want more."
"Do you want me to go faster?" He asks as he does exactly that and you nod profusely. He suddenly slows though, so you know what you have to do.
"Yes, daddy, please go faster." You say what he wants to hear and he ramps up the speed again, giving you what you need. "Please don't stop, I'm so close…"
"I want to see it." Joel growls in your ear before you hear a pop and the plug in the tub is no longer in place. The water suddenly drains out rapidly and you stiffen at the cold air hitting your warm skin. "You better cum a lot for me."
You don't know what he means until he starts to move his fingers side by side inside of you and you squirt uncontrollably, screaming from how forceful he is at drawing your orgasm out of you. You can't think straight because you can't stop cumming, every orgasm gushing out of you against your will.
"Stop!" You shout because it's too much, you're too sensitive now and you're going to pass out. "I keep cumming, I keep–"
"That's good." He slowly corrupts you. "You want to keep cumming. You want to drown in the pleasure only I can give you. Enjoy it, baby girl."
And you do.
You hate how much you end up enjoying it, bathing in such bliss. It consumes you completely…and you faint somewhere along the way. You've never felt so good before. Your body can't handle it and you pass out from the high…
❅❅❅❅❅
Joel dries your hair for you while you're unconscious. He likes how peaceful you look, having fallen asleep to the orgasms he gave you. He wants you to look like this everyday and he'll make sure it happens.
A sweet girl like you deserves to be treated well.
Maybe that's why he can't resist touching you in your sleep. Joel watches as your chest begins to rise and fall more and more with every gentle stroke of his fingers. You're getting so wet for him now. He wonders what you're dreaming of and if he's in it.
He'd like to be. He wants you to only think of him. He's the only one that you need. He's the only one that matters. No one else will take you from him.
Joel refuses to make the same mistake twice. He loved Ellie like a daughter, raising her to be a strong woman. A woman strong enough to leave him in the dust because of a lie he made.
So, he has to be more careful with you. You're malleable, he's certain of that. You'll need some persuading, but you'll listen to him. First, out of fear, but eventually, out of love.
All he needs to do is tie you to him the only way he knows will work…by making you fall for him.
❅❅❅❅❅
It isn't until you wake that you realize your body is still heated from all the orgasms. You're aching from the waist down and you wonder why…until you see Joel between your legs, his tongue dragging up and down your pussy like he's starved for your taste.
How long has he been…you can't even formulate the sentence because he flicks your clit with his tongue and you squirt just a little from how overstimulated you are. A whimper leaves your lips because of it that draws Joel's attention to you and he smiles, happy to see you awake.
"How did you sleep?" His voice is so eerily calm…
You're unsure of how to answer that, so you ask back, "did you sleep?"
He nods. "I slept great, holding you in my arms."
"How long have I been asleep?" You're confused…
"A little over two days."
Your eyes widen at his words. Have you really been passed out for that long?
"Why are you down there?" If you've been asleep, why is he touching you?
"I needed to make sure whenever you were awake that you'd be nice and ready for me." He teases your entrance with three of his fingers before slipping each one inside of you slowly.
You brace yourself, expecting for the sudden stretch to hurt but…it doesn't. His fingers feel thick inside of you, but it's not anything you can't handle.
What did he do to you while you were asleep…
"You're almost ready for me, baby girl." His thumb presses lightly on your clit when he says that, sending shivers through you. "I've opened you up as best I could."
"Please, Joel…" You plead to him. "I don't want this."
"Your body says otherwise." He tells you as he curls his fingers and you nearly cum just from that. "See, you want this. Why are you running from it?"
"You're not giving me a choice." He's throwing himself at you and you're unable to stop him.
"I did give you a choice." Your breath catches in your throat when you hear the safety of your pistol flick off and Joel presses the barrel against your bare chest, right where your heart is. You only notice then that you're completely naked. "Either I kill you, or you enjoy my touch. I had assumed you'd chosen the latter, but if I'm wrong…"
His finger hovers over the trigger and you shake your head profusely, not wanting to die like this, not when his fingers are still teasing your insides. It's unbearable, the weight of the gun on your chest while his fingertips drag along that spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.
So, you succumb to the scenario you've found yourself in, "you're not wrong. I want this. I'll enjoy myself. I promise."
"Then, cum." He commands, keeping the gun steady on your chest. "Show me you're being honest."
You bite your lip and choke back your own dignity as you grind your hips against his hand, thrusting his fingers inside of you the way you need them to. You gasp when he starts to follow your rhythm, pushing you closer to the edge. It's a great distraction, because you barely notice the way he's trailing the pistol up your chest, but you're well aware of it when it brushes against your lips, forcing you to part them open.
Before you can beg him not to, Joel rests the barrel of the pistol in your mouth, the cold metal coating every one of your taste buds. You gag a little when he drags it against your tongue, but you can't focus on it while his fingers are inside of you. Tears start to stream from your eyes out of sheer terror and the most warped and frightening smile curves on Joel's face the moment he sees you.
That's when he undoes the safety of the pistol yet again and rests his finger on the trigger, his voice more menacing than ever as he goes, "cum for me right now or I'll blow your brains out, baby girl."
Every muscle in your body tightens at the threat and that's all it takes for the tension in your body to explode. You can't tell if you're screaming or moaning as your orgasm ripples through you violently, locking up every sense with nothing but pleasure. You can't feel, you can't see, you can't think.
All you can do is cum because that's what he wants from you.
Relief washes over you when Joel pulls the gun out of your mouth and tucks it away behind his back. His fingers release you from their hold and an empty feeling is tainting your mind. You've been so full for so long that it feels…wrong to be hollow.
How much has he corrupted you? How long is he going to stay until you're exactly what he needs you to be?
His baby girl…
You need to get out of here. You need to run. You need to fight Joel for your life back because you can't be his.
And yet, you can't find it in yourself to shove him away.
Not when he's whispering so softly to you, "good girl, that must've felt great. Let me make you feel even better now."
It isn't until you feel the tip of his cock press against your pussy that you snap back to the reality of it all. You're going to have your first time right now and he's going to fuck you raw.
The last bit of rationality courses through you as you plead, "please, don't do this. I don't have any condoms, I don't want to–"
"It's okay, darlin'." His southern accent sends shivers down your spine. "This is what you were meant for. This is what your body craves. Just let it happen and I'll take care of you."
You claw at his chest the moment he starts to force his way inside of you, his cock stretching you out more than his fingers did. You've never felt this kind of pressure before as he opens you up with every thrust. He doesn't like that you're trying to fight him, so the next time you shove at him, he smacks you right across the face. You gasp at the feeling and he pushes more of himself inside your swollen pussy then, smiling.
"You're so tight and yet you're taking every inch of me." Joel suddenly grabs you by your hair, pulling you forward so you can stare at the way his cock is slowly disappearing inside of you. "Almost there, just a bit more."
"Let me go." You cry out, wanting him to take his hand out of your hair. "Please, it hurts."
"Grab onto the headboard and I will." He makes you a deal and you listen, wrapping your hands around the metal.
His hand leaves your hair, letting your head drop back onto your pillow, and you relax just a bit. It doesn't last though, not when he pulls out a piece of fabric from his pocket and binds your wrists.
"Now, hold on tight, baby girl." His hands rest at your hips now, gripping your flesh. "I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."
You don't understand what he means until he pulls his cock out of you and rams it back inside, hilting all of a sudden. He's too deep, too big and all too much for you.
You try to say something but he raises his hand at you before you can, instructing, "if you want to speak, you better address me correctly or I will have to teach you a lesson."
You swallow at his threat, your throat going dry. Goosebumps rise on your skin and you're scared to say anything but you want him to be gentle. He'll break you if he keeps being this rough.
So, you stuff your pride away and beg, "please go slowly, daddy."
His smile softens then, liking how you've listened, and he rewards you by rolling his hips, letting you get used to him being inside of you, grinding himself back and forth against every spot that makes your pussy tingle.
It's starting to feel good and that's frightening because you're biting back your whimpers. You can't enjoy this. It's wrong. He's taking you by force and yet your body is desperate enough to meet him halfway, wanting more.
"Does my baby girl enjoy being fucked?" Joel adjusts a bit so that he can thrust upwards into you, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. "Tell me you do."
You keep your mouth shut, not wanting to say a word, and he doesn't like that at all. So, when you're right at the cusp of your orgasm, he pulls out of you, leaving you struggling against your restraints.
"If you want it, say it." He starts to rub his hard cock against your pussy, teasing your sensitive clit with the tip of it. It's torture because it's not enough to get you there.
You need more. You need him inside of you.
Joel takes his time to torment you, dipping into you just a bit before pulling out, dropping his cock over and over again on your pussy, rubbing circles around your clit.
Eventually, you can't handle the denial anymore so you cave and go, "please fuck me. I want to cum."
"Say it again." He wants you to embarrass yourself further and your skin burns from it.
"I want to cum. Please fuck me. I need you, daddy." You add on, hoping that's enough.
It is, because the moment he thrusts inside of you, you cum. You cum all over his cock and he rewards you by fucking you harder, making your orgasm even more intense. You're gasping for air because it doesn't seem to stop. You're throbbing inside and every thrust sends such waves of pleasure through you.
"You're milking my cock so well." He praises you. "Someone's desperate for my cum."
Your eyes widen when you realize he must be close from the way he's pumping into you and you panic, "please cum outside, don't cum in me."
"How am I supposed to cum outside when you're not letting me go?" He tries to pull out but your pussy is gripping onto him too tightly.
"No, don't, please." You can't get pregnant. You can't have a baby with a man you've just met. You can't…but he won't let you decide otherwise.
"You'll feel so much better once you're all filled up." Joel reassures you in the worst way possible. "Soon, you'll beg for it."
There's no way you would. Why would you ever want such a thing?
"Enjoy it." He says sweetly to you, looking at you with such affection. "We won't be able to fuck much when you're pregnant, so it's best to make every time count."
You want to ask why he wants you of all people, a random girl he met in the middle of the woods in the winter, but you're certain he won't have an answer. Perhaps this was all just bad timing and even worse luck.
It doesn't feel like much at first, when he finishes inside of you. It's hot and it spills out of you when he pulls away. Joel takes his time, pushing as much cum as he can back inside of you. You hate the orgasms you have from that simple action.
It isn't until the second time that it feels…primal. You can't explain it, but when he's fucking you like a feral animal, you find yourself leaning into it. Your body isn't in tune with your mind anymore. It's not listening to your pleas because it knows it feels good to be taken by him. He never hurts you unless you do something he doesn't like, which is rare. He only ever wants you to feel pleasure.
Days go by of this, of just…constant breeding. You will sleep, then wake up, fuck, have breakfast, fuck, have lunch, fuck, do house chores then fuck in the shower afterwards, then eat dinner which always ends with you bend over the dining table because you're the meal he's actually hungry for. This cycle repeats until you get your period.
The disappointment on Joel's face stings. It's like you failed him. You couldn't give him what he wanted. You don't like the feeling…but a tiny voice in your head reminds you that you shouldn't want to please him anyways.
During your period, Joel teaches you how to suck his cock, since he can't fuck you. As a reward for learning, he caters to you, helping you with your cramps, rubbing your belly when it aches, cuddling you like you're the love of his life. It's…jarring, to say the least. You'll go from him fucking your face to him caressing your back and whispering sweet words to you.
Run. That tiny voice yells into the abyss that is your mind right now. Run far away from here.
You want to listen but…where would you go? You grew up here. You don't know anywhere else. This is your home and he's the intruder.
An intruder who's making himself at home.
"Does your stomach still hurt?" Joel asks because you've tensed up against him, your thoughts influencing your nerves.
"A little." You lean into his chest, not because you want to, but because he's warm and the winter has been cold. "I'll be okay."
"You'll always be okay, baby girl." He presses a soft kiss on your forehead, taking in a long breath before saying, "I'll keep you safe."
Safe from who? You wonder, because you aren't safe from him…
❅❅❅❅❅
Another month passes and you're late. You counted the days, mainly because Joel made you, and you're late. You've never been late before, which can only mean…
"We won't know for sure, but we can find out." You suggest. "There's a convenience store a few miles up. There's no food there, but there's plenty of pregnancy tests. I remember seeing them."
You chew on the inside of your cheek, hoping he'll take the bait. Please say yes.
You need to get him away from your house. You need to kill him but you can't do it here. You need to do it somewhere he isn't familiar with.
A place where you know a gun is hidden.
"Better to be sure." Joel agrees to the trip. "But you're coming with me."
"Okay." You knew you'd have to. "I'd like to walk with you. It's a nice hike, now that the snow has melted."
The rest of the day is spent preparing for the day trip. When it's finally time to sleep, you're surprised to feel Joel's cock harden behind you as he spoons you. He rubs himself against you and you hate how your body reacts to it, leaning into the feeling.
"Just to be sure." He whispers to you and you know what he means. He doesn't have to say much else.
You feel him nudge you until you're on your hands and knees and he's situated behind you, pulling down your pajama pants. Joel lines his cock up at your entrance and in one single motion, he fills you to the very brim. You can't hold in your moan, not when his body is pressing down onto you, engulfing you completely as he starts to pound into you.
"How does it feel to be mine, my sweet baby girl?" He asks, his hips meeting your ass perfectly.
"So good." You don't lie because you know it'll be the last time you do this with him. "Please don't stop, daddy."
"Never." He says, grabbing you by your hair so that he can kiss the back of your head. "I wouldn't dream of letting you go."
With his hand still in your hair, Joel continues to fuck you from behind, tugging you back to meet him. His lips on yours are sloppy, but you kiss him back, feeling connected with him on all levels. Your body moves against his in perfect harmony and you drown in the moment
It isn't until he whispers the words "I love you" that your heart pinches just a bit, remembering the reality. You're going to kill him tomorrow, this man who loves you in a sick and twisted way.
"Fill me up." You whisper back, giving him something else, since you can't give him your love. "I need you, Joel."
That's enough for him to finish inside of you, the heat spilling into you in waves. His cock pulses inside of you for a few moments before he pulls out and lays back beside you.
You go back to the way you were laying before, and he spoons you to sleep. You wonder what it'll feel like to sleep alone, now that you've slept with someone for this long.
You're going to miss it…maybe even him too…
❅❅❅❅❅
Now that the snow has thawed, the ground is much less muddy. You still had to wear your boots, which aren't uncomfortable but they're harder to run in. You don't think you'll need to run but…you want to stay prepared.
Joel tells you a bit more about himself on the walk to the convenience store. You're unsure if you want to know more about the man you're about to kill, but you can't refuse him, so you listen.
You don't expect him to tell you about Sarah…but now everything makes sense. Perhaps, he's been waiting for a chance to make things right. To raise a child who won't end up dying in his arms and leaving him forever.
You clutch your stomach when he's not looking, scared of your own mind. Scared that the tiny voice in your head is now whispering guilty thoughts…
You can't. It's not reasonable to have a child in a world like this. Especially not with a man like him.
You say that, but Joel has warped you in a different way. You won't lie and say you won't miss him when he's gone. It's hard not to miss someone you've spent the last two months getting to know in more intimate ways than two normal strangers would.
As a war breaks out in your mind, you and Joel get to the convenience store. The front glass is shattered, but it's always been like that. Looters at the very beginning of it all broke it, which is why there's moss going on the shards that were left behind. That's what your parents told you.
You miss them more and more with each passing day. They were well-prepared to have you, knowing they've set up a little oasis in the middle of disaster.
You can't have this child with Joel. You're ill-prepared to be a mother. You're unsure if Joel would even be a good father, even if he claims that's all he wants to be.
Would a good father taint someone else's daughter the way he has tainted you?
You hold back your sigh as you and Joel walk over the glass to get into the store. It's a small store, so it's not difficult to find what you're looking for. You wonder if these will even work, since they probably have an expiration date, but you just have to know.
For your own sake, more than Joel's.
Once you've packed a fair amount of pregnancy tests into your bag, you tell Joel that you've stashed some canned goods behind the counter in the off chance you might get stuck out and about, and you wanted to check if they were still there. It's not a lie, but you stashed a gun there too.
So, you go to the floorboard you hid everything under and pull it open and—
The sound of a gun's safety flicking off freezes you in your tracks. You swallow, hard.
Fuck, did Joel figure it out? You're too frightened to look up, scared that you'll be staring into the barrel of a gun.
But then, a new voice appears and she goes, "step away from her, Joel."
You glance up then and your eyes meet the girl's for a second. She's young, maybe barely eighteen, and yet she wields the gun you had hidden in the floorboards like she's used to handling them. That thought should worry you, but you're more worried about how she knows Joel.
Did he…do something to her too?
"Ellie, please." Joel pleads, his hands up. "Don't take her away from me."
"I know what you did to her." Ellie has her finger on the trigger, ready to shoot him. "I saw what she put in her bag."
"She's pregnant. We're going to be a family." He tries to reason with her. "Come back with us. We have a home. You'll have a little brother or sister soon. Wouldn't that be nice?"
"You're sick, Joel." She gestures for you to come over to her and even though Joel's eyes pierce into yours to stop you, you still make the trek over to her. Once you're securely behind her, she continues her harsh words to Joel, "you don't know what it means to be family. Family wouldn't do this, wouldn't do the things you've done."
"I can change. I can do better. I'm sorry."
You've never seen Joel so weak before. The once scary man that held you captive is now cowering before this girl.
"Sorry won't bring them back." Ellie tells him and you wonder what she means by that. "So, don't come looking for us. I'm taking her and I'm leaving now."
"Please, don't take her." He begs, his voice cracking as he goes, "I love her."
You open your mouth to say something, but Ellie stops you. Maybe she knows what you're about to say, or maybe she just doesn't want you to say it back to him. Not that you would…right?
"This isn't love, Joel." She tells him for you. "Whatever this is…it sure as fuck isn't love. I'm sorry. You did this to yourself."
The moment those words leave her mouth, she shoots Joel. You cover your ears at the sudden sound as it echoes through the quiet.
You hear Joel scream and you realize then that Ellie didn't shoot him in the head. She shot him in the leg, so he couldn't catch up to you two.
"We have to go, now." She grabs your hand and you both start to run.
Run, that voice comes back in your mind, run and don't look back.
❅❅❅❅❅
You and Ellie take a break once you're a good distance away from the convenience store. You give her some of your water, since it looks like she's low on supplies. She asks you about what happened and…you tell her. Not in full detail, but enough.
"That fucker." She seems angry at Joel for more than just what he did to you, but you won't pry about what exactly.
"Who is he to you?" You ask Ellie, wanting to know that instead.
"He's trouble. The kind of trouble I need the strength to take care of before he hurts anyone else…" She says, the anger leaving her voice as a sadness seeps in, "but I'm not strong enough yet. I couldn't kill him…but I will one day."
You can tell she doesn't want to, and you understand why. You might be the only one out there who understands her because you feel the same way.
There's no way Joel isn't looking for you two.
So, your journey with Ellie begins. You're both on the run from Joel, but also finding the will to hunt him too. All while wondering if he's imprinting himself onto you the way he wanted to.
You press your hand on your stomach and chills run through you.
You should've known Joel was trouble the moment he walked through your front door…
A/N: I've always wanted to write a villain!joel since I feel like it actually fits his character a lot, if he was given the right set of circumstances. I also am a big fan of the "I need to kill him before he kills me" trope, but with a twist! The addition of Ellie in this part makes me really happy and gets my mind rolling. The latter half of this one-shot is very plot-heavy, which is new for me but I kind of like it? It really builds up to a possible sequel! So, if you're interested in a sequel, please let me know! This really does have the potential to be a whole series ♡
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Ben Barnes x reader who's in her 20s and Ben likes her one day he couldn't control himself and says it like "I know I'm older but I still love you" idk something like this?!?
Hi sorry for the delay, I'm on break from taking requests but I'm not going to abandon your request. So here's a taste of the dynamic between Ben and (Name) as I figure out what to put together. Just some headcanons whilst I work on your story.
- (Name) being a Young millennial/Millennial Z.
- I can imagine reader being an Actress and a singer herself rising through the ranks due to her unique talent.
- Ben and (Name) first met through mutual friends.
- In fact, they met at the Troubadour where Ben was actually performing that night.
- (Name) was also invited to perform as well.
- My girl did Rock music. And did she have some serious pipes.
- Ben could not look away from her performance. He thought she looked so ethereal but at the same time so enticing under the blue and dim lighting of the stage.
- The way she strummed her guitar to impossible notes made her look like a Metal Goddess.
- When the show was over Ben had the chance to introduce himself through a friend of his who conveniently knew her as well.
- He felt shy to approach such an intimidating but captivating young woman.
- He found her to be very attractive and quite adorable actually. With her highlighted hair, smokey eyeshadow with glitter, dressed in a black sheer lace top with a dark bra underneath and a pair of dark jeans and laced doc marten boots.
- Immediately fast friends when they started exchanging dirty jokes (Ben can be a hound dog for sure).
- Ben enjoys to cook and share with his friends and after getting to know (Name), he's insistent that she joins him for dinner (with some friends, of course...it wasn't a date...not yet).
- When she first came to dinner she brought over some special dessert from her culture (Whatever ethnic background she is; I'd imagine it being Flan/Basbousa/Avocado ice cream/Ube cake...etc. could be any)
- Ben loved her dessert. Made it official that she introduces more ethnic desserts to his colonizer palate.
- Ben saw something unique in (Name): she was so funny, eccentric, talented, free spirited, and crazy but in a good way.
- It wasn't long before they'd coincidentally worked together staring in the Marvel series 'The Punisher'.
- I'd imagine (Name)'s character being the sister to Frank Castle and there is some sort of chemistry between her and Billy Russo.
- (Name) doesn't know this but Ben has actually watched her films and series.
- After meeting her for the first time, he grew curious about her work and explored her films and music, and immediately became enamored by her method of acting and her lyrics.
- Her first time to explore London, Ben is there as well and offers to show her around.
- When he took her to the Harry Potter store (Name) couldn't help but mention how he would've been perfect for a Harry Potter film:
"Ha ha not you too."
"Yes, me too. I've seen your old pictures and you would've been the perfect Sirius Black. Ugh what a wasted opportunity but too late, you're...oooold." She'd exaggeratingly say the last bit in a grim voice.
"I am not old you just happened to be born really late."
"That's what an old person would say."
- His contact name on her phone would be 'Shadow Daddy' (She just had to since his character, General Kirigan, was trending like crazy)
- It was a slow start between the two. Starting off as friends but then things between the two became serious.
-Serious how?
Having dinner together with just each other.
Visiting each other's designated trailers.
Going to London's famous bookstores and exploring great literature.
Ben and (Name) would even do a music sesh or duet some songs together.
She even got to meet his family.
He met her family as well.
- I can imagine (Name) being well versed in technology.
- Young Millennial Zs are just good to adapting to new technologies and constructing their own system units. So it's only natural that she's good at it as well.
- She's also a pro at video games. Like really good that she makes misogynistic, fascist pigs cry like little bitches.
- Like the chick has her own customized mug/tumbler that reads 'FASCIST TEARS'.
- A total badass in Call of Duty (Warzone), Overwatch, Dead by Daylight, Dying Light, Friday the 13th, League of Legends, etc. Don't mess with her.
- Ben one time heard her lay down some serious trash talk and come backs at a bunch of sexist, misogynistic 'men'. (He had spare keys to her place and found her preoccupied in her gaming room)
"Woah! Are you a gamer girl?! Send me some titty pics, bitch"
"You can't handle my melons, bitch. If you're looking for some titty action go back to sucking your mama's. Annoying ass brat."
"This game ain't for girrrllls! Go back to the kitchen and make me a fucking sandwich!"
*Soon after he said that (Name) would constantly headshot his lame ass character barely even touching her or landing a shot at her*
"What the fuck?!Nah Nah, fucking bitch is cheating!"
"Ha ha ha! You fucking suck man. I don't think this game is for you so how 'bout you go to the kitchen and make my fucking sandwich."
- Oh yeah, (Name) is a major savage when ripping into those assholes.
- She was surprised Ben found her like that and felt embarrassed. She was worried he would find it appalling with spoke... Ben was such a composed fella and her... she was basically the devil incarnate ready to erupt and drink the blood of her enemies.
- But her worries went away when Ben chuckled at the scene he had witnessed and asked if she was okay (in a nice way) She'd later explained about how she was being insulted online and it made Ben worried.
- She told him not to worry and that she handled well by kicking their ass.
- Ben's not a gamer (I think) but he was really impressed with how she put down those sexist assholes.
- He found it kind of hot.
"Well that was an...interesting reaction, ha ha ha!"
"Stop laughing! I feel so embarassed that you had to see me that way!"
"I have to admit I found it quite cute how you swore at the screen. Ha ha, you looked like an angry chihuahua. Ha ha ha!"
"Ha Ha very funny"
"Alright, I'm just teasing you. I just hope you won't get into trouble"
"Nonsense. Besides...they only try and get my account reported for 'cheating'. It's not my fault they deliberately suck at playing."
"You are really good... It almost feels unfair."
"You say that because you've never beaten me at Mario Kart to this day."
"I've been practicing whilst I was away filming. So I'd like to think now I'm close to beating you."
"Ooh ho ho. Big talk eh. I'd like to see you try. Prepare to lose...again!"
- The two also enjoyed teasing one another that it gave everyone the impression that they were couple. Heck even their parents thought there was something more between the two.
- Ben laughed it off when his parents told him and he denied saying that he was too old for her. But they thought differently.
- (Name)'s mom was rooting for them (aww bless her) and her dad well...He didn't mind Ben but that was his sweet baby girl. To him, Ben was corrupting his sweet, innocent, little 'angel' baby (Ahahaha he can't see it clearly that his daughter is basically the devil who thrives on Cyberbullying fascist gamers... Yeaahh, an 'angel' for sure but there's nothing wrong with putting down toxic gamers. The girl is basically considered a saint in the gamer girl community)
- Sure there was a bit of a large age gap between the two but his parents had no qualms against whom he dated as long they treated him well. And they believed (Name) was the right fit for him.
- Ben would also invite her to one of his recording sessions and let her listen to him sing and play his piano.
- She would also invite to him to her recording studio to witness her play and come up with new songs.
- She'd be in awe of his talent and it would not go unnoticed by Ben which just bolstered his ego and made him flustered at the same time.
"Enjoy the show?"
"You were amazing! I mean... You all were amazing." She included the rest of the musicians who played by his side.
"Thanks, I'm happy to hear that."
"I heard that you're putting a lot of focus into your music since you didn't have the time to do so?"
"Yeah. I've put it off for a while since I wasn't so sure at the time but..."
"You're doing great and I'm not just saying that as a friend. It may seem late but you've put in a lot of work and creativity into it. I'd say all these years you just had some pent up creativity storming through that head of yours."
"Thanks that means a lot. I appreciate it."
"Happy to help. Ooh now that you're a rising musician does that mean I can be one of your groupies?!"
"Ha ha ha you can be so ridiculous!"
"That's what you love about me."
"You have no idea."
- Ben doesn't understand it yet but he always looked forward to (Name)'s words of encouragement and unwavering support as he trekked through the world of music.
- Despite the age difference the two shared their worlds and experience with one another and it brought them closer and closer.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
#ben barnes#ben barnes x reader#ben barnes x you#ben barnes imagine#ben barnes imagines#ben barnes fanfiction#ben barnes x female reader#ben barnes x y/n#ben barnes fluff#older!ben barnes x young!reader#request#special requests#fanfiction#fluff imagine#ben barnes headcanon#ben barnes headcanons#headcanon#headcanons#ben barnes fic
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RONAN and ADAM and... ETHEL CAIN
(trust me its gonna be so good)
My thoughts on “crush” by Ethel Cain and The Raven Cycle (because my niche right now is rereading the raven cycle for the first time in 4 years and I just happened to see Ethel live and I cannot stop connecting them)
As a prelude to my lyric/quote breakdown… Ethel Cain is a trans woman who writes hauntingly beautiful music.. She is religious and from the south, which is a HUGE part of why it is so undeniably apparent to me that she can be connected to specifically RONAN (gay catholic from the south with his barn house). Her music is so amazing and she is an awesome story teller so I hope you give her a listen.
Her most popular song CRUSH is so goddam Ronan and Adam I had to write this because I needed to put it somewhere.
“His window's already passed, so he's shooting at the glass
Keeping guns in his locker, and he denies it
Like it's actually important, but he lied 'cause I sure did watch him
Showing up wearing black, and he knows that”
His daddy's on death row, but he'll say it with his chest, though”
This is just very Ronan angst i don't feel like i need to explain..
“His friends move dope, he hasn't tried coke
But he's always had a problem saying no”
OKKK soooooo lets get into the the dream thieves helloooo
Yes Kavinsky and Ronan’s relationship is very hard to define but whatever it is he takes up a lot of his time in dream thieves.. And he loves coke (or whatever the hell he dreamt up)… and Ronan is VERY BAD at saying no when it comes to any sort of challenge from Kavinsky.
OK NOW LETS GET INTO THE GOOD STUFF
“Can you read my mind? I've been watching you.”
“As they moved through the old barn, Adam felt Ronan’s eyes glance off him and away, his disinterest practiced but incomplete. Adam wondered if anyone else noticed.”
“Adam finally sat down on one of the pews. Laying his cheek against the smooth back of it, he looked at Ronan. Strangely enough, Ronan belonged here, too, just as he had at the Barns. This noisy, lush religion had created him just as much as his father's world of dreams; it seemed impossible for all of Ronan to exist in one person. Adam was beginning to realize that he hadn't known Ronan at all. Or rather, he had known part of him and assumed it was all of him.
The scent of Cabeswater, all trees after rain, drifted past Adam, and he realized that while he'd been looking at Ronan, Ronan had been looking at him.”
“When he opened his eyes, he saw that Ronan was looking at him, as he had been looking at him for months. Adam looked back, as he had been looking back for months.”
“Couldn't fight to save your life, but you look so cool”
“I’ve watched the evening news, Adam,” Gansey snapped. “Why don’t you let Ronan teach you to fight? He’s offered twice now. He means it.” With great care, Adam folded the greasy rag and draped it back over a toolbox. There was a lot of stuff in the carport. New tool racks and
calendars of topless women and heavy-duty air compressors and other things Mr. Parrish had decided were more valuable than Adam’s school
uniform. “Because then he will kill me.”
“Good men die too, oh, I'd rather be with you, you, you”
“See, Adam Parrish is wantable, worthy of a crush, not just by anyone, someone like Ronan, who could want Gansey or anyone else and chose Adam for his hungry eyes.”
HELLOOOOOOOOo are u kidding….
1st Gansey is the definition of a “good man”
2nd Adam is OBSESSED WITH THIS the whole damn series and is constantly attempting to model himself/who he wishes he was after gansey
3rd to tie it all together… the whole series its like oh yea gansey is about to die (along with everyone else if we are being real)
“I owe you a black eye and two kisses
Tell me when you wanna come and get 'em”
PLEASEEEEEE like this is MY WAY of describing the ANGST and SLOWWWWWburn of their relationship. When I hear her sing this I cannot help but giggle and kick my feet because of how amazingly it fits.
“I only want him if he says it first to me”
"It was Adam’s ribs under Ronan’s hands and Adam’s mouth on his mouth, again and again and again. It was stubble on his lips and Ronan having to stop, to get his breath, to restart his heart. They were both hungry animals, but Adam had been starving for far longer.”
We all know the Ronan longing and it being a HUGE secret that he likes Adam... and Adam like knows and its like lol embarrassing (as if he isn't down bad as well)
ADAM is like oblivious to the legitimacy of his feelings until ronan gives him a little kissssss and then it's like he is all like “what is love”
“He looks like he works with his hands, and smells like Marlboro Reds”
HELLOOOOOo this is so adam are u kidding
“Ronan crossed his arms to wait, just looking. At Adam's fine cheekbones, his furrowed fair eyebrows, his beautiful hands, everything washed out by the light. He had memorized the shape of Adam’s hands in particular: the way his thumbs jutted awkwardly, boyishly; the roads of prominent veins; the large knuckles that protruded from his long fingers. In dreams Ronan put them to his mouth.”
“Adam twisted off the lid. Inside was a colorless lotion that smelled of mist and moss. Replacing the lid with a frown, he turned the container over, looking for more identifying features. On the bottom, Ronan's handwriting labeled it merely: manibus. For your hands.”
“Something's been feeling weird lately
There's just something about you, baby (there's just something about you, baby)
Maybe I'll just be crazy (I'll be crazy)
And piss him off 'til he hates me
Yeah right, he fucking loves me”
…… do i even need to say anything??
#the raven cycle#the raven king#the raven boys#richard gansey#gansey#ronan lynch#adam parrish#blue sargent#the dream thieves#the dreamer trilogy#adam and ronan#pynch#noah czerny#richard campbell gansey iii#Spotify
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I love your post about the origin of the animated The Little Mermaid's music. That does explain why Part of Your World feels like a coming out song.
It's also believed that The Little Mermaid was written by Hans Christian Anderson as an allegory for falling in love with another man. But I'm not sure if that's confirmed to be true or not.
Ah yes! I have heard that as well! i don't know if Hans Christian Anderson wrote it with such a delibirate intention or not, but it IS a pretty certain fact by scholars and such that he was DEFINITELY gay himself. And as such, it's impossible to read the original Little mermaid, a story about an "other" creature falling in love with a man only to see him fall in love with a human woman and then DYING out of sadness, and not take it as the gayest little story ever written.
The Disney Little Mermaid is the same story but written with an optimism that the American gay community desperately needed in the late 80s and early 90s. One where Ariel's father not only changes his mind about who his daughter loves, but in the end the only reason she is able to stay with Eric is because her father gave her his blessing and allowed her to be who she really was. Which meant she could marry the man she loved, live happily ever after, and humans and merpeople could coexist.
There's a reason the movie ends with the lyrics
Now we can walk! Now we can run! Now we can stay all day in the sun! Just you and me, And I can be, Part of Your World.
It's a giant wish fulfillment film not only because Ariel and Eric end up together, but more important because Triton accepts his daughter at the end.
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The one, Neteyam.
Neteyam Sully x Gn!Omatikaya!Reader. part2.
Left unspoken. Angst. Kinda open ending? SFW.
Summary: You could never tell him, and you didn’t.
hi guys! this is the second oneshot i write and actually post ever and i’m really nervous about it, english is not my first language and i’m not experienced so please be patient with me. i hope you enjoy this and really recommend listening to The 1 or August by Taylor Swift while reading (there are lyrics of both songs included). comments and constructive criticism are always welcomed, thank you! <3
Neteyam Sully was your secret. You can’t really tell when your feelings started, having known the oldest Sully since childhood, the two of you never got too close, keeping a safe distance, leaning on rare moments alone and exchanges of looks that you hoped to carry some meaning.
Your courage was never enough for you to express what you felt, Neteyam carried multiple obligations as a future leader, one of them being choosing a partner that would be the next Tsa’hik, something that, in your opinion, several clan members could do better than you.
So you buried the words you most wanted to say and promised that one day this love would be gone. It didn’t, but it was just yours, and as selfish as it seemed, it was enough.
Neteyam was sitting while you patched up his wounds, his eyebrows furred, seeming lost in though. This would usually be a moment where you two shared a comfortable silence, but something seemed wrong. He arrived much later than usual and didn’t say anything since.
“What is bothering you?” He looked at you for the first time, eyes full of an emotion you couldn’t quite read.
“It is nothing.”
“Please, I know there is something. You can talk to me.”
But how could he? The truth is that Neteyam had just came out a conversation with his parents, receiving the news that he was now promised to another woman, the best hunter in the clan. It was excepted to him to be already mated, and since people were growing impatient it seemed the best solution. He felt his stomach drop, his face loosing color, but couldn’t say anything. Getting out of there as fast as possible and running to you.
Neteyam adored you. No, he loved you dearly. You were the one person he felt most comfortable with, the one he knew that would accept him for who he is and that didn’t expect him to meet any impossible and tiring standards. Every memory you shared meant everything to him. He collected your interactions and details as treasures, always trying to memorize your likings, fears, dreams, looking for you in every room he entered and hoping to one day verbalize a feeling that made his chest feel like it was going to explode. Waiting for the right moment made him loose his chance, and now he would never know if you felt the same. His eyes watered, avoiding your gaze, feeling your soft hands now resting in his shoulders.
“I am promised.” He let out as a whisper, somehow hoping that you wouldn’t hear.
Your ears turned, tail switching nervously. Focusing now on finishing the bandages and trying to seem indifferent.
“It is decided?”
“Yes. Both families agreed. I was informed today and don’t know what to do.”
“Have they set a date yet?”
“Next month.”
Your breath hitched, hands now trembling nervously and vision blurred by tears you tried to avoid. The air thick with all the unspoken feelings that both didn’t dare to expose.
“I see. I-” You opened and closed your mouth, not knowing what to say, instead focusing in finishing everything quickly and quietly, not talking at all. Then mumbled “I have to go, we can talk later.” as you ran out. Leaving a heartbroken and confused Neteyam.
A few days have now passed since your last meeting. You were avoiding Neteyam but trying to be discreet about it, giving him quick greetings and fake smiles. Waking up was painful and everything felt like a blur in your mind. How could you miss something, someone, that was never yours? He wasn’t yours to lose.
Maybe you should go back, maybe you should scream your lungs out and tell the world how you have always wanted him. But you couldn’t, you shouldn’t. Neteyam gave his life trying to be the perfect son, the perfect leader, and he would be. You weren’t going to take this away from him.
You looked blankly at the sky while preparing to do your chores. Taking a deep breath and trying to accept what happened. Knowing the kind, caring and responsible boy you once had with you is now out of reach.
If you only knew that Neteyam Sully wasn’t sleeping or eating either, wondering if he could be selfish for once. Fighting the urge of storming into your tent and pouring his heart out. Knowing that he would prefer a life alone than one with someone that wasn’t you. Feeling ready to go against everything he taught himself, to maybe disappoint everyone and fight for his happiness, to be brave. However, you wouldn’t even look at his face anymore, completely distancing yourself, did you finally grew tired of him? Perhaps these were feelings he was destined to bear alone, cursed to always love you from a distance. And maybe if one thing had been different, then everything would be different today.
“But it would've been fun,
If you would've been the one.”
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The Queen of Lies: Nullum Magnum Ingenium
Story Intro | Content Warnings | Mood Board | Vibey Song Lyrics | Ao3
Contains: lady whump, asylum, outdated/problematic/ableist language, bullying (includes food-related taunting, Victorian-style slut-shaming, sexist language), feeling humiliated, drugging/sedation
Previous | Masterlist | Next
Word count: 4700 || Approx reading time: 19 mins
Nullum Magnum Ingenium
Teaser: This room was so cold, her teeth chattered. Perhaps the presence of a few other bodies might have dispelled the horrid chill, or even kept at bay the nightmares—horrible ones, dark and sinister, filled with screams and the blood-flecked ghost of Will’s face.
Bree awoke from an ordeal that vaguely resembled sleep, curled into a ball and shivering, her face stiff and sticky with dried tears. The night had passed slowly, filled with constant interruptions from heavy-footed nurses. Each time, they’d noisily opened her door to peer into her face. Checking, it seemed, to ensure she was alive and calm and who she said she was.
From what she understood, Baden was paying handsomely for a private room, but she had to wonder if a shared dorm wouldn’t be more pleasant. This room was so cold, her teeth chattered. Perhaps the presence of a few other bodies might have dispelled the horrid chill, or even kept at bay the nightmares—horrible ones, dark and sinister, filled with screams and the blood-flecked ghost of Will’s face.
A basin of water was delivered, its arrival foretold by footsteps and the scrape of a key unlocking her door. Bree shivered through her ablutions, splashing her face and drying it with a yellowed towel that scraped her skin. Smoothing her hair with an old hairbrush made her skin crawl; she tried not to fixate on how many other locks it had brushed before. The morning nurse, a smiling woman whose black hair was braided away from her face and tied with a pink bow, provided her with a coarse, grey dress. Bree did not object, even though it was as hideous as her slip and equally uncomfortable. It, too, was stamped with its inventory number and Greyhurst’s name.
First, property of Baden Hatchett; now, property of the asylum.
“Come along, Mrs. Hatchett,” said the nurse in a sweet, accented voice when she was done. “Shall we see what they’ve made for breakfast?”
It seemed impossible that this kindly girl could be in the same profession as the blonde gossip from the day before.
In the dining room, Bree quickly found her way to Mrs. Strickland, certain she would need the encouragement to choke down her food when she saw what was being served: unbuttered bread and bowls of watery oatmeal striped with thin drizzles of molasses.
“Remember what I told you yesterday,” said the older woman, sipping daintily at her tea. Bree’s eyes filled with tears when she tasted hers. Will’s voice came to her, complaining about a different cup of tea; now she, too, knew what tea tasted like when it was made with care and love—and when it wasn’t.
“How long have you been here?” Bree asked, trying to take her mind off the lamentable bill of fare.
Mrs. Strickland’s face fell. “Almost three years.”
Bree nearly spilled her tea into her lap—not that it would have hurt much, considering that it was lukewarm. “What?” Her face drawn but collected, Mrs. Strickland nodded. “But—I thought—Dr. Armstrong said a few months—”
“For some, yes.”
Biting the inside of her cheek, Bree put down her teacup and took the woman’s hand. “I…I’m so sorry.”
Why on earth should this gentle woman have been locked away for so long? “Wh…” Fearing to pry, she cut herself off, but Mrs. Strickland grasped her question nonetheless.
“My husband and I have different ideas about how children ought to be raised.” Mrs. Strickland’s gaze, clouded with sorrow, fixed upon something on the opposite side of the room. “It was a battle I couldn’t win, since… Well, perhaps you know better than most. The law is not on our side, is it?”
Recalling Baden’s voice as he declared her forcible commitment entirely lawful, Bree shook her head.
“Some things are beyond our control, regardless of how hard we try,” said Mrs. Strickland. “Or how valiantly we fight.”
Something shivered and trembled inside Bree’s chest. That simply couldn’t be true.
But she thought of herself standing helpless, frozen, and silent as Baden walked away.
“We do our best,” said Mrs. Strickland, “with the lot we’re given. We keep going. We…” She glanced around the room, and for a moment, Bree could see the anguish swirling around her like mist. No, not just anguish; there was anger, too, and determination. Quiet, subdued—but not extinguished. “Survive.”
The rest of the meal passed largely in melancholy silence. When it was done, however, Mrs. Strickland got to her feet and informed the nurses, in a voice as reasonable as any Bree had ever heard, that she would take the new girl under her wing, if you please, and so Breanna Hatchett would accompany her for work in the sewing room. To Bree’s astonishment, no one scoffed or objected; in fact, the pink-bowed nurse beamed and said she thought it was a marvellous idea.
The sewing room was a surprisingly bright area filled with natural light and quietly chattering women. Work, Mrs. Strickland said, was part of the healing regimen at Greyhurst. Thus, much of the day would be passed with needlework, sewing clothes, pillowcases, sheets, and more.
“Saves them a great deal of money to have us do it,” Mrs. Strickland whispered with a roll of her eyes, and Bree couldn’t help but return a cynical laugh.
It was undeniably a relief to have something to occupy her mind: in every moment she wasn’t working, she fretted about whether Will was safe. If, as her slim silver needle wove in and out of her fabric, he was being locked in chains, carted away, or put to death. If each loop of her thread perfectly mimicked the deathly coil of a noose.
The first day ebbed into a second, and then a third, settling into a routine: rest, meals, work. The nightmares did not fade, nor did her sleep improve: if it wasn’t the nurses disturbing her with their stomping footsteps, it was the cries of poor souls elsewhere in the asylum. Bree burst into tears the first time she was jolted awake by a haunting, woeful scream.
Even so, her days passed in what might have been pleasant mundanity—if not for the ever-present terror that the next morning would be the one when a nurse or doctor burst in bearing news that those wicked Iustitia aecum thieves had been caught and put to death.
She was on her second pillowcase of the day when a nurse summoned her, announcing that she had a visitor. Bree’s mouth went dry. So, Baden was back. Perhaps bringing her belongings, perhaps some extra clothes.
Perhaps tidings of misery and death.
Squaring her shoulders, Bree followed the nurse from the room, her mind racing. Today, she would not face Baden with terror, hysteria, tears, or ravings. She would overpower him with strength of argument and soundness of mind, and she would convince him she had been wrongfully detained. Then, the moment she was free, she would find Will—and make sure Baden never laid a finger on him again.
It was a fine plan, or it would have been had Baden Hatchett been waiting for her.
“Breanna?”
Alice Wright stood stiffly in the parlour, twisting her fingers together. Her hands shook.
“Alice,” Bree whispered.
The afternoon light was weak and silvery. Spilling through the window, it glinted off Alice’s dark hair, and even though it was a miserable, grey sort of glow, she looked as beautiful and put-together as she always did.
Judging by how Alice clapped her hands to her mouth, Bree knew the light did not have the same effect on her.
Fleeting glances in the mirror had revealed an unpleasant truth: although only a few days had passed, her appearance was already deteriorating. There remained not a whit of shine to her hair; her skin was growing sallow; ringing her eyes were circles of dolorous, ashy grey.
Altogether, she looked positively frightful.
“Oh, Breanna,” Alice squeaked, darting forward and embracing her tightly. “What’s happened to you?”
Bree swallowed swift, smarting tears, unsure whether to be mortified or grateful that Alice bore witness to her imprisonment. Had Baden told everybody, then, that she was mad? Whenever anyone spoke the name “Hatchett” from now on, would it immediately be followed by condoling coos of, “Oh, that poor dear! Did you hear? Do you suppose they’ll ever let her out?”
But Alice merely murmured, “Oh, darling, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he would—I didn’t know it would come to this.”
Baden hadn’t come, but Alice had.
Baden wouldn’t help her—but perhaps Alice would.
“Please,” Bree said dizzily, her heart beginning to thrum faster. “Alice, please, you must listen. I’m not mad.” She swung her head around, cognizant of how perfectly paranoid she must look even as she insisted she was sane, but what she wished to say next, the nurses could not overhear. “I need your help.”
“Breanna, I—”
“I don’t know how long I’ll be in here,” she interrupted. “Please, listen. I’m not insane. Baden, he—he’s just trying to protect his reputation, don’t you understand? Because—because I—”
Because I fell in love with someone else.
“You must find him,” Bree whispered. “And warn him.”
“Wait—”
“Please!” Bree squeezed her friend’s hands. “You have to warn…”
Will. But what meaning would that name hold for Alice? None. Fox. Why should she recognize that name over his real one? The thief—my thief. But wasn’t that much the same as confessing her crimes?
Bree froze as she realized she had not a clue of how to word her plea.
“Breanna,” said Alice gently, cupping her cheek, “perhaps you might listen to me first.” She turned to the nearest nurse, who, to Bree’s great trepidation, was Miss Dugford. “I wish to walk with my friend.”
“If you want to go outside,” said Miss Dugford sullenly, “you’ll need an escort. She roamed her gaze over Alice’s smart outfit and lofty expression—and apparently concluded that this was a fine lady who was not to be crossed or trifled with. Bree nearly collapsed with relief.
“Fine,” Alice sniffed. “Then we shall simply take a turn about the room.” With a haughty toss of her hair, she laid a hand on Bree’s arm and tugged her along.
The softest whisper tickled her ear: “I have news, but play along for a few minutes, all right?”
Alice prattled on for those few—yet agonizing—minutes, filling the air with questions. How had Greyhurst’s staff been treating her? Had she been sleeping? Was there anything she needed? Why on earth had Baden not yet sent any extra clothes? Unacceptable. Rest assured, she would arrange to have some dresses sent immediately.
After two and a half circles around the room, one nurse, clearly bored, began to plunk away at the piano in the corner, making what Bree thought was quite an unnecessary racket. A new light glowed in Alice’s eyes.
“I was sent here,” she said softly, her eyes on the musically-minded nurse, her face perfectly calm, “but it wasn’t your husband who told me you’d been committed.”
Bree stumbled to a halt. “What?”
“Shh,” Alice admonished. “Enjoy the lovely music, won’t you?” The tune was far from skillfully played, but it was loud—and distracting.
“Who sent you?” Bree whispered.
“A terribly rude young man.”
As it sank in what this meant—the only person Alice could mean—Bree’s eyes filled with tears.
“Stop reacting!” Alice said quickly. Raising her voice, she said, “Now, Breanna, I know you’re terribly homesick, but—” She wavered. “Remember, we all just want what’s best for you. No doubt you’ll be feeling much better soon.”
Will. He didn’t hate her after all.
“He sought me out,” said Alice quietly, “all for you.”
Washed away by these words was the conviction that Will despised her for dooming Jamie—but Bree’s relief was accompanied by horror. “He did?” When the constables could have found him at any moment? “Was he all right?”
“Well, I thought he was rather vulgar. But…” Alice nodded. “He seemed unhurt. Only…upset.” After a pause, she added, “And really quite incorrigible.”
Although she laughed, Bree’s throat ached with gratitude. Will, her Will—so reckless. Too reckless. “Alice, you have to warn him. Baden wants him dead. If you see him again, you must send him away. He can’t be caught.”
Alice’s face fell as she laid a hand on Bree’s arm. “He knows.”
“He—how?”
Whispering even more quietly now, Alice said, “A new arrest warrant. It says he’s done…terrible things. Awful things. To you.”
Bree’s hands moved of their own accord, taking hold of the end of her braid and combing through the ends. Every muscle seemed to tremble. “Alice, it’s not true. He didn’t. He wouldn’t.”
“So he insisted,” Alice said. “As did his friend. A woman.”
Colette was trying to help her, too? Bree pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to keep her sobs reined in.
“It’ll be all right,” said Alice soothingly, passing another worried glance around the room, apparently determining that Bree’s distress had grown too conspicuous. “You’ll be right as rain before you know it.” She took Bree’s hand again.
Something circular passed from Alice’s palm to Bree’s.
Quiet as a falling petal, Alice whispered, “I’m here to seek a way in, and I think I’ve found it.”
Without giving Bree an opportunity to react, she burst into loud, cheerful chatter. “Now, let’s rest for a few minutes before I go. Shall I tell you all about the literary society? No doubt you’ll be joining us in no time.”
They rested upon a poorly cushioned bench by the window. With a furtive glance around, only half-listening as Alice described the literary society’s current book and detailed her husband’s latest travels with the military, Bree glanced at the item in her palm.
A roughly carved coin, decorated on both sides: on one face, a tree with ringed roots, and on the other, two letters.
I.A.
Praying her shaking hands wouldn’t cause her to drop the precious gift Will had sent her, Bree slipped the coin into her stocking. She would not allow the nurses to see it, to find it, to parse its meaning—or to take it away.
His meaning, unwritten but clear: I’m coming for you.
“Don’t forget what Mr. Hawthorne said,” said Alice suddenly.
Bree frowned, trying to remember which quotation from The Scarlet Letter her friend meant.
“‘Do anything…’” Alice began, and Bree’s heart lifted.
“‘Do anything,’” she recited, “‘save to lie down and die.’”
“A dear friend once told me that,” said Alice, wiping her eyes. “I’m still trying to determine if she was wise or foolish, in the end.”
For the first time in days, when Bree laughed, it felt neither heavy nor forced. “You know,” she said, “I think you’d get along with him rather well. Once you got to know him. My…friend.”
Alice raised her eyebrows. “I don’t know about that. He frightened me, at first. And the way he curses!” Still, her lips turned upwards. Slightly. “Perhaps I shall have to take your word for it.”
Interrupting the contemplative silence that fell between them, Dr. Armstrong approached. Although he retained his usual mild demeanour, he seemed pleased. “You’re smiling, Mrs. Breanna.” If Alice found it indecorous that he referred to Bree by her first name rather than her last, she did not say so, although her mouth twitched. “I’m delighted to see that. Your friend’s visit has done you good.”
“Yes,” said Bree, praying he could not detect a suspicious amount of exuberance in her expression. “It certainly has.”
“You’re a doctor here?” asked Alice, getting to her feet.
Imperturbable and unoffended as ever, the doctor merely said, “I’m Dr. Armstrong, assistant physician.”
With sparks in her eyes, Alice strode up to him, held out her hand for a shake, and said, “Dr. Armstrong, my name is Alice Wright, the wife of Major Roger Merritt Wright of the 34th Regiment, and I would like to return to your hospital for a visit of a different sort. I noticed you have a lovely piano in the corner there, and I was touched by how—er—pleasing it was to have some music this afternoon.”
Bree blinked, wondering where Alice was leading this conversation, for no one with any taste would find the nurse’s playing pleasing to the ear.
“I was thinking,” Alice went on before he could interject, “of how nice it would be if I returned with a—erm—friend to play some music for the patients here. Might we discuss this?”
“Oh…” Dr. Armstrong appeared to give her proposition earnest consideration. “I suppose we could bring it to Dr. Richards and see what he says.”
“Splendid,” said Alice. “I’m sure he’ll agree that it would be ever such a nice thing to do. Music is simply delightful for the soul, isn’t it?”
Dr. Armstrong agreed, sending an affectionate look toward the shabby piano.
“Do you play, doctor?” Bree asked, a little surprised and genuinely curious.
“Well, not anymore,” he said, and she was rendered quite astonished, almost charmed, when his face turned red.
“Oh, but you did!” said Alice delightedly. “Why, then we simply must arrange this visit! Please, Dr. Armstrong, take me to see Dr. Richards right away.” Without giving him a chance to refuse, Alice gave Bree one quick embrace, bade her farewell, and led him toward the door. The sound of her airy laughter drifted away, more beautiful than any music.
In the blink of an eye, she was gone.
Bree stood still, heart pounding and hands tingling. Had that really just happened? Had Alice been there, slipped her an Iustitia aecum coin, promised to help her, and then vanished? It seemed impossible.
Yet the coin in her stocking insisted that something had been set in motion, a firm foundation laid.
For a plan.
For, she dared to hope, the plan that would see her once again set free.
***
If Bree went to dinner with her heart soaring, it did not take long for it to plummet.
“Madam Lawbreaker had a visitor today,” said Miss Dugford loudly toward upon seeing Bree. “Didn’t you, Mrs. Hatchett? Did you have a simply lovely time with your friend?”
Biting down hard on the tip of her tongue, Bree nodded and brace herself for whatever stinging remark or hissed innuendo was coming her way.
“I’m astonished,” said Miss Dugford. “The poor girl must not know what manner of people you associate with the rest of the time. Did you deceive her, too?”
Bree ignored her. Finding her prey dissatisfactory, Miss Dugford turned away, shifting her attention to a younger girl instead.
“Look at this! How shameful,” she said mockingly, pointing to the girl’s half-eaten meal. “You must eat up. It’s not healthy to eat so little, you know. And it’s so terribly ungrateful of you to leave half your food on the plate.”
The girl stared down in distaste at her lump of boiled beef, mumbling, “I’ve eaten my fill.”
“Are you quite sure about that?” Miss Dugford sighed dramatically and addressed another nurse. “These rich girls, wasting food like it’s nothing. Disgraceful!” She tutted, and the girl’s face flushed deeply, her eyes filling with tears. “Or perhaps her condition is worsening. A healthy young girl in her right mind wouldn’t refuse such a meal, would she?”
The girl ducked her head and said nothing. A tear dripped off her chin, splashing against the wooden tabletop.
“A woman in her right mind wouldn’t go anywhere near this meal,” Bree said.
Sharp intakes of breath up and down her table reminded her that talking back to any of the nurses, but especially this one, was ill-advised. At the moment, however, Bree didn’t care. She didn’t want Nurse Dugford’s attention, either, of course. But the poor girl looked so forlorn. So helpless.
If no one ever said anything, then what would it take to make that horrid woman hold her tongue?
“How extraordinarily impolite!” Said Miss Dugford, crossing her arms. “Didn’t you ever learn to mind your own business? Really, Mrs. Hatchett, you ought to be a bit more agreeable. More grateful. You’ve been given such a lovely place to stay while our kind doctors do their best to cure you of your nympho—” She paused dramatically. “Well, as I have a sense of propriety, I won’t say it here.”
Bree’s throat threatened to close up and choke the very words out of her. But instead of fixating on her atrocious meal, she looked up and met Miss Dugford’s gaze. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about. Perhaps you should say it.”
The nurse merely clicked her tongue and drifted away. “See? She is a hopeless case.”
“Don’t do anything untoward,” Mrs. Strickland said, clinging to her arm. No doubt she could see Bree’s fingers clenching into fists. “You’ll only regret it.”
Bree forced her breaths to calm.
It was a relief when Dr. Armstrong, making his rounds through the room, paused next to her, a smile on his face. “I must say, Mrs. Wright was very persuasive. We shall have a concert tomorrow.”
“What wonderful news!” she said, her mood buoyed by the sudden smiles beaming around her. “That will be lovely, I’m sure.” For everyone, of course, but especially, if Alice’s whisper was any indication, for her.
Oblivious to the plot he’d unwittingly abetted, Dr. Armstrong smiled again, lightly patted her hand, and moved on.
From where she stood, Miss Dugford watched them with her eyes narrowed. Bree threw her an indignant glare, resolving to keep her spirits undampened.
In this endeavour, she was successful—until it came time to exit the dining room, when Miss Dugford slithered toward her again.
“You seem quite taken with Dr. Armstrong,” she said coolly. “Everyone sees it.” Beneath the glow of the gas lights, her green eyes glittered menacingly. “How terribly improper. He’s a physician. A professional. Are you looking for special treatment or something?”
“I’m not taken with anyone,” Bree said through gritted teeth. “He was just telling me about the tomorrow’s concert.”
Something about today felt different; a crueller gleam burned in Miss Dugford’s gaze.
Bree knew she should duck her head and walk away. The coin in her stocking whispered to her softly: if only she could hold out, suffer just a little longer, her imprisonment would soon be over, and the gaping hole in her heart would soon be filled.
Miss Dugford giggled, shrill and girlish—more a caterwaul, a banshee’s scream. “Well, I’m no doctor, but it certainly seems to me that you’re utterly incurable. Married to such a prominent, respectable gentleman with a good job, then running off with a thief? Now throwing yourself at Dr. Armstrong? Why, there’s no fixing such deplorable promiscuity, is there?”
Hot, tingling prickles swept up and down Bree’s entire body.
“Your poor husband,” Miss Dugford sneered. “And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but your poor crook, too. I wonder what they’d say, seeing how you conduct yourself in here. No wonder your constable hasn’t come to visit.” Her head tilted to the side. “And your thief, well, he can’t, can he? He’d be arrested before he made it through the gates.”
Bree heard Mrs. Strickland calling her—Let’s go. Come away. Go on to bed.
“Be quiet,” Bree said, “and leave me alone.”
“But you know…” Miss Dugford continued, still tittering. “Supposing he could. Perhaps he wouldn’t be surprised at all. A man like that, straight from the gutter—why, I’m sure he’s very used to whores and trollops. Just like y—”
The slap of Bree’s palm against Miss Dugford’s cheek echoed through the entire dining room.
Aside from the gasps of alarm that rose among the women who had borne witness, there was only silence.
“How dare you?” Bree demanded. “You don’t know a single thing about me.”
“Did you see that?” Miss Dugford screeched. “You all saw that, right? She hit me!”
“Mrs. Hatchett, really!” one of the other women said. Perhaps it was Mrs. Strickland, horrified, disappointed. Perhaps it was someone else. Bree didn’t care.
Because Miss Dugford, clutching a hand to her bright red cheek, opened her big mouth again.
“Looks like Mrs. Hatchett’s time consorting with the scum of the earth was even more influential than we thought.” Her face contorted into a grimace—animalistic, bloodthirsty. “Were you always a violent little cow, destined to end up here from the start, or was it that Wardrew man who taught you?”
The name no one else was supposed to know struck Bree more fiercely than any blow.
Bree did not realize she had leapt for Miss Dugford until two pairs of arms grabbed her and dragged her away.
“How do you know his name?” It was her voice, she knew, crying out like that, but it came from somewhere far away, impossibly far. The voice of a woman gone feral, panicked and overcome.
And trapped.
Miss Dugford couldn’t know Will’s name, yet she did. Which meant that someone, somewhere, had told the police, and the police had told the rest of the world. Was it Jamie? Had he buckled under the pressure Will had suffered so keenly to withstand? Had someone else informed on IA? Or—worst of all—had the others been caught?
What if, at that very moment, Will was in chains again?
“How do you know?” she cried, tears already streaming down her cheeks.
“Everyone knows!” Miss Dugford snarled, scrambling away. “Wardrew, Marks, Haris! You just haven’t heard because you’re locked up like the bloody lunatic you are!”
Every name—revealed.
All her allies—doomed.
“That’s quite enough!” Dr. Richards bellowed, but Bree barely heard him.
She had consoled herself with the conviction that even if every constable was looking for a man with red-brown hair, hazel eyes, a tattoo, and a price on his head, Will was still protected by his anonymity, and that his name and whatever history remained attached to it would stay hidden long enough for him to get away.
But if everyone knew…
Something pricked her arm. It hurt—but it paled in comparison to the ache inside her soul.
“To your room at once, Mrs. Hatchett,” said Dr. Richards coldly, as a pair of nurses urged her to walk.
They didn’t understand. They couldn’t.
“Perhaps she is mad after all,” said Mrs. Strickland sadly. “She seemed such a sharp little thing.”
How could any of them understand?
“Come on now, Mrs. Hatchett,” a nurse said. “Don’t fight us. We’re here to help you. We know you’re upset. You’ll be all right soon. Just come along.”
It was not until she was almost at her room that Bree realized she felt strange. Not the kind of strange that came with having her soul shredded to ribbons—that remained.
No, this sensation was unfamiliar—limbs growing heavy and weak. Eyes growing dim. Mind growing foggy.
“What did you do?” she whispered. “I feel…”
“I know, lamb,” said the nurse, patting her cheek. “You were distraught, and violent, and you slapped Miss Dugford, didn’t you? That wasn’t kind, but anyone can see you’re suffering. You need rest. The chloral will help you sleep, that’s all, and you’ll feel better in the morning.”
“And then we shall have a conversation about standards of behaviour in this hospital.” Dr. Richards’ voice. Drifting from somewhere behind them.
“Are you with it enough to get into your nightgown?” the nurse asked. “Or do you need help?”
“Don’t touch me,” Bree said. She was crying. Was she? She wasn’t certain. She had been so happy. So hopeful. Earlier. Why? Alice. Colette. Music. A plan.
That Wardrew man. Everyone knows. Whore. Trollop. Bloody lunatic.
“Please leave me alone,” she sobbed when the nurse drew closer. “Don’t touch me. Don’t.”
The invisible spectre of Dr. Richards sighed heavily. “Just wait until she’s out,” he said. “Then you can finish up and help calm everyone else down.”
“Please,” Bree said. “Please. Please.” What was she crying for? Pleading for? She wasn’t certain.
She was so tired.
“You’ll be all right, Mrs. Hatchett.”
A lie, Bree knew, but the room faded, and she knew nothing more.
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#lps the queen of lies#whump#whump story#whump writing#original writing#original story#original content#lady whump#guy whump#romance#angst#tw asylum#tw ableist language#tw bullying#tw humiliation#tw drugging#tw sedation#food related taunting#tw food related taunting
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Ok so I have a lot of thoughts about Hazbin Hotel episode 6
spoilers below if you haven't seen it!!!
So along with getting Angel sticking up for himself, funny Nifty Shanagins ™, and the banger lyric of "If hell is forever than Heaven must be a lie", we also got some Vaggie lore.
WHAT?!?!?
Like yeah. We all love seeing Angel sticking up to the stupid Moth dude and whatever, BUT THIS!? Not only was Vaggie an angel, but an EXTERMINATOR!!!
And this has raised some thoughts and minor-not-should-be-taken-seriously theories.
One: Are human souls that have entered Heaven allowed to become exterminators? That after being so good in their life they get into Heaven, they just get a job that ha them going down an killing other humans? Like yes they're dead and made horrible choices, but every soul started somewhere. In Heaven or Hell.
If Heaven could excuse their angels killing thousands of people, just because they need to "protect" Heaven or something, then why don't they think a demon could become good? Because clearly the exterminators don't care about the demons. And I doubt Vaggie was the only exterminator that had been alive. So Heaven don't care that their "pure" souls are killing with no remorse, but think it's impossible for a demon to turn good?
I mean some cases in Hell make sense. Ms. Mallberry or whatever her name was in Helluva Boss (can't tell if I spelled that right.) Her husband/boyfriend (can't remember which it was) was having sex with another woman. So she tried to kill the woman. She was angry. People act out when experiencing strong emotions. Doesn't mean you should try to kill someone! But why she did what she did makes sense.
But Heaven doesn't care. I mean, they don't even know how a soul gets into Heaven!
Summary: Vaggie's lore is so interesting, and I want to see more of it. I love Angel, trust me, but Vaggie's story has so much potential and more lore inside of it. I want to see more about her.
And don't get me started on Husk's story! I NEED MORE ABOUT HIM!
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel spoilers#hazbin angel dust#hazbin vaggie#vaggie hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel ep 6
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I think Control by Halsey fits Itachi well
IN FACT YES, after reading the lyrics I had to start immediately with this request because it is a perfect match🙌🏻
for context, Uchiha! reader
"They send me away to find them a fortune, a chest filled with diamonds and gold." The dark room is filled with the sound of a distorted, incorporeal voice, a tone so low it could be interpreted as the devil himself speaking. There is something sinister in its words, evil, coldness, and each sentence rolling through the place sends a shiver of terror down her spine. (Y/N) looks from one side to the other, trying to find the source of the sound, where it comes from, but she can't make out anything among so much black.
She wakes up disoriented, lost, with no idea where she is or how she got there, immersed in an oppressive darkness that does not allow her to distinguish even her hands in front of her. Genjutsu? There is no other way to achieve such a powerful effect.
"The house was awake, the shadows and monsters, the hallways, they echoed and groaned." The voice continues, an unnatural wail this time from a different place, its trajectory swirling around her. The man moves, closer yet extremely far away at the same time, impossible to perceive.
"I sat alone, in bed till the morning-“
"They're coming for me!" she interrupts, cutting off the monologue of whoever is there with her. Her only chance is to alert him with her family name, scare him with the Uchiha reputation. Altered are her senses, each time she tries to read the chakra in the room a barrier plunges over her, blocking any guidance she can gain. Her captor seems to have studied her, alternatively knowing her well, for he is properly aware of dealing with a powerful shinobi.
"No one is coming for you, they're all dead, (Y/N). I tried to hold these secrets inside me, my mind's like a deadly disease, I couldn't." The man seems to be getting closer, each word a step nearer, his voice booming against the walls and stalking her from all directions at the same time. It is impossible to perceive his direction, but his proximity becomes more and more apparent.
"I'm bigger than my body, I'm colder than this home, I'm meaner than my demons, I'm bigger than these bones..." A hand brushes the back of her neck, moving her hair and making a small cry of surprise escape her. The caress is as quick as it is short, a millisecond of contact that makes her blood boil, angry at not being able to detect who is holding her captive, who stole her in the middle of the night, who was talented enough not to alert her instincts.
(Y/N) went to bed after an exhausting day, happy to finally get some rest, and now wakes up knee-deep in some psycho's shit.
Her hands desperately grope the floor looking for something, an object to hold and defend herself with, but the only thing she finds is a sticky and presumably warm liquid. Fresh blood permeates the atmosphere with a strong metallic smell.
"And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you're scaring me", yet I had to kill them all. I can't help this awful energy, god damn right, you should all be scared of me." Another hand brushes her knee, the woman crouching on the ground and looking around, trying to clear the darkness from the place with the help of her Sharingan. Her eye power seems to be countered by renowned techniques in the clan, moves that only Uchiha would use to fight each other, strategies no enemy should ever know about.
"Who is in control?" she asks in a desperate attempt to find information, for her captor to be as cynical as to give himself away and seek morbid credit for his actions, wanting recognition. The only response she receives is a hysterical, distorted, terrifying laugh, a sound that makes her feel exposed like prey in front of a predator.
"I paced around for hours on empty, I jumped at the slightest of sounds, I couldn't stand the person inside me, I turned all the mirrors around" his story is as theatrical as it is incoherent, the man does not seem interested in killing her, hurting her, he would have done it already. His focus seems to be on (Y/N)'s attention, in making the woman listen to his every word and feel scared of the situation.
Suddenly, a hand closes around her throat, fingers squeezing her soft skin with killing force, seizing darkness hovering over her and not allowing her to see who is brutally holding her. "I'm well acquainted with villains that live in my head, they beg me to write them so they'll never die when I'm dead." The air rapidly escapes her lungs without receiving more oxygen in return, eyesight blurred by the pressure and on the verge of fainting.
Perhaps this is the end, and her attacker's ulterior motives will remain secret in the face of her death. She successfully claws at the skin of the one who suffocates her, trying to find a weak point, contact on which to exert force and free herself, but she seems to be dealing with someone who knows what he is doing.
She mentally says goodbye to her family, to her beautiful clan, regretting not being able to be of more help to the Uchiha causes, sorry not to be able to say goodbye to her beautiful boyfriend. For some reason, she knows she has no use fighting against the one who holds her, as if her body recognizes the man's touch but her mind does not.
She knows who this is.
The hand disappears just in the nick of time, all the lights turning on and the Genjutsu imprisoning his senses disappearing.
"I'm bigger than my body." (Y/N) coughs violently, holding the area the man squeezed and trying to regain control of her body. She can't pay attention to anything for a few minutes, trying vehemently to pull herself together and not show weakness in front of her captor, but when she finally focuses her eyes again, the first thing she sees is ANBU sandals.
"I'm colder than this home." She identifies the location as the Uchiha leader's house, Fugaku's meeting room, the chamber where she herself spent entire afternoons receiving details of missions and orders to follow for the sake of the family.
There is fresh blood on the floor, the wet sensation she felt under her hands confirms her suspicions to be true. Meters away from where she herself sits, both the leader's and his wife's bodies lie lifeless, tragically one on top of the other. "I'm meaner than my demons." Her mind travels with speed, desperate to comprehend the scene, looking down at her hands and taking her first look at her captor. Wild eyes and activated Sharingan seamlessly identify Itachi, the man grinning madly and showing off a new ocular power.
The Mangekyōu? How did he get it?
"I'm bigger than these bones." The Uchiha hovers over her, taking advantage of her astonishment to knock her completely to the ground and position himself on top, observing (Y/N) with an unrecognizable look on his face. Her boyfriend reduces her to a mess of tears and confusion, not understanding anything about the situation, not comprehending why Itachi is dressed as ANBU in the middle of the night, why he tortured her psychologically in his father's meeting room, and why he murdered them.
"Please stop, you're scaring me, Itachi!" She cries disconsolately, forgetting for a moment all her abilities, showing herself as a little girl in front of a fierce wolf, surrendered to the intensity and intimidation her own boyfriend builds in her.
"God damn right you should be scared of me, I can't help this awful energy. Who is in control?"
The world spins in pain and suffering as a stabbing sensation pierces her chest, cold metal puncturing her skin just above her heart, tearing her body mercilessly, and pouring more blood over the existing one.
(Y/N) convulses at the attack, unprepared and helpless to defend herself against the love of her life, surrendered to his terrible will and with no choice about her future. The kunai buries itself with hatred, anxiety, and sadness in her flesh, sinking deeper and deeper into her muscles, painting the scene a deep red color.
Itachi wants to break her chest and take all the love she has for him, to hold it in his hands and smash it in her face, to shatter the affection they both constructed for each other, to eliminate any trace of passion between them.
The last vision (Y/N) has is of her beloved outraging her skin, stealing her life little by little.
#uchiha itachi x reader#itachi uchiha x reader#itachi x reader#uchiha itachi#itachi uchiha#itachi#naruto#naruto imagines#naruto shippuden#uchiha clan#uchiha reader#naruto x reader
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Music Talk: Magia
Haven't talked about music for a spell, so it's time to get back on that with the song I'm currently obsessing over. I don't listen to a lot of soundtracks anymore, but there are three exceptions. The (in my opinion) best works of Ennio Morricone, Guns & Roses from Baccano, and today's entry, Magia by Kalafina from Madoka Magica.
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I'm mostly going to talk about music stuff, but some (sizable) Madoka original series spoilers below the cut.
First of all, I love how this song starts. The rolling timpani (I think, it's been a while since my band kid days) into that eerily powerful choir of vocalizations that the rest of the instruments then layer in under is just such an attention grabber. The whole song comes rolling in like thunder and not even demanding attention as much as it states that you are now listening.
I also adore the vocal stylings on display here. Kalafina sings low in the register, contrasting with the higher-pitch nasal vocalizations and making the performance truly memorable, standing out both in tone and timber. The three vocalists singing in unison also adds power to the vocals and conjures up the mind of a Greek Chorus or one of many fate-tellers or -makers who work in triplicate. It tells the tale of a doomed struggle, but perhaps a heroically tragic one?
Another interesting thing about Magia is how it fits into the plot of Madoka and what it is perceived to convey. At first, Magia seems to be the theme song of the calamitous Walpurgisnacht, and the eerie power of the song appears to be an extension of the witch, who, to a greater extent than most witches, has transcended characterhood into a force of nature, an ender of all things.
It is only later, and perhaps after looking up the lyrics of the whole thing that one starts to pick up that this isn't the case. Magia is a theme song for sure, but not for the Walpurgisnacht, who is less of a conflicted character at this point than the lyrics would suggest since her motivations or even identity remains unknown, but for the standoffish and antagonistic Homura.
Now I could talk about the plot stuff around Homura in the original series for literal hours, but the relevant part here is how her story fits Magia both lyrics- and tone-wise so much better, and the point where it all clicks is the point where the show, to me at least, went from good to GREAT. Magia is a powerful song, yes, but it also feels like struggling uphill, like fighting against something that should be impossible to fight, like opposing the very plot that you're in.
There is also, I will add, a touch of vulnerability to the whole thing, the unison singing will drop away for a more personal-feeling set of lyrics. This neatly mirrors Homura's arc, as we get to see behind the cold and cynical facade, we see the young woman, a girl, really, who fights so desperately to save the one person she loves that she is willing to sacrifice anyone, even herself, even the world.
The lyrics really drive the point home, as they flit between dreams of a better future and the knowledge that this all might be for naught even if the most impossible were to happen. It might be a bit heretical to say this, but I love how goth it is. Not necessarily in that it fits the aesthetic, although I would argue it does in its way, but in how it sees the beauty in the hopeless and love in loss.
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After some discussion in a gc I ranked the OFMD soundtrack choices for each season.
Season 1:
Gnossienne No. 5: I have a Pavlovian response to this song now. I hear it and a little movie reel in my mind starts up with The Kiss (Season 1 edition).
The Chain: This was my most played song of 2022 on Spotify for a reason. The choreography: immaculate. That shot where the small boats are approaching the Revenge and it skips to the beat? Should have won an Emmy on its own. And Stede and Ed looking at each other as the music and the world fades away leaving only their love? Yeah, that’s the good shit.
Avalanche: This music overlaying Ed’s transformation into the Kraken, the shots of Stede’s books falling into the water? “I have begun to long for you/I who have no greed/I have begun to ask for you/I who have no need/You say you've gone away from me/But I can feel you when you breathe” It takes a scene that could have been campy or funny and with the power of Leonard Cohen elevates it to the most emotionally devastating shit you’ve ever seen.
Our Prayer: It’s so brief but it’s SO good. The blissful music overlaying Stede’s smile at being known.
Miles from Nowhere: Beautiful song, beautiful sentiment, Stede is finally, truly free of his old life and is on his way to discover what his new one will be: “I have my freedom/I can make my own rules/Oh yes, the ones that I choose”
High on a Rocky Ledge: I loved this choice as an opening and hearing it over the shot of all the flags always makes me so emotional.
Perfect Day: I can’t believe I’ve put my dear Lou Reed so low on this list but that’s what the impeccable choices above do for me. Obviously the crucial lyrics here are, “You made me forget myself/I thought I was someone else/Someone good” and juxtaposed over Ed rowing alone and Stede returning to discomfort in a married state it’s just so much.
The Empty Boat: I actually LOVE this choice, the lyrics are so good for Ed’s expression and feelings in this scene, but it just doesn’t feature as strongly as the others.
Bonus shoutout to Il triello: Olivia, give him the old fuck eye!
Trailer interlude:
Because the Night: This choice made me absolutely deranged. Hearing this was when I was like oh they are going to fuck and I am somehow going to be seeing it in a few weeks on my screen. The night before the premiere I was so full of emotions that I took a drive and played this over and over again while screaming along to try to get some of them out.
The Beautiful Ones: My brain became an endless loop of Baby baby baby for a week with Stede’s words and the cake toppers overlaid.
Season 2:
This Woman’s Work: This is THE song of the season to me. We all wanted a reunion, we wrote something like 10,000 versions of it, I personally wrote something like 10 versions of it, and then the actual reunion was SO gorgeous and SO perfect and soundtracked by this and “all the things I should have said that I never said, all the things we should have done that we never did” and that piano and the build and and and I will never recover.
Pygmy Love Song AND Seabird: I put these two as one because they’re the crux of Ed’s journey in this season and they work so well together thematically. First, the Impossible Birds - imagine hearing that there’s a piece of media about Blackbeard, infamous pirate, where one of his lines of dialogue is, “We’re never going back to land. We’re gonna sail, rob, raise hell, forever and ever without end” and instead of these words being delivered as a tough war cry they’re instead spoken in utter grief in a voice made nasal from tears. Taika’s delivery is so good it makes me want to eat through a brick wall (and all shout outs forever to Joel Fry for playing off him in this scene and several others). Playing in the background, its music lilting and warbling just as much as Ed’s voice? “My heart, my heart is full of love, I have nothing else.” So then a bunch of stuff happens (see the aforementioned reunion above) and we’re in episode 4 and Ed sees Buttons turn into an actual Impossible Bird, choosing to transform himself for love, and as Ed says “Fuck yeah brother, fly,” his face shining with revelation, we get, “There’s a road I know I must go/even though I tell myself that road is closed/like a lonely seabird/you’ve been away from land too long” MAGGIE PHILLIPS YOUR MIND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Run From Me: I was already a big Timber Timbre fan so when I read that one of their songs was in the show, I got very excited, and this did not disappoint. Its use to bookend this episode was incredible - the jilted wedding theme and the slow beginning of the song at the beginning as Ed is clearly in such a low place contrasted with the faster end of the song at the end of the episode as Ed enters this manic state during the storm - double Maggie Phillips your mind!!!
Strawberry Letter 23: The opening chords of this starting right after Ed introduces himself as the devil - just perfection. Ed’s sending 88 letters in his own way.
Road to Moscow: This one feels like a real “I just heard it last night and if anything happened to it I would kill everyone and myself” situation. Fascinating use here because the song is about a Russian soldier witnessing the ultimately-failed German invasion of Russia in WWII - a notoriously bloody campaign with massive losses on both sides, which is of course what happens to our crew and the soldiers they encounter as well. This line gave me chills in the context of the crew fighting through the trees: “Ah, softly we move through the shadows, slip away through the trees/Crossing their lines in the mists in the fields on our hands and on our knees/And all that I ever was able to see/The fire in the air glowing red, silhouetting the smoke on the breeze”.
I Love My Baby: Perfect double use. Also further wedding foreshadowing: “Just say you love me
And we'll go to the preacherman/Just say you love me/And before him we'll stand/We'll live our lives together/As we go hand in hand.”
Baby: Can’t believe this is so low but the other ones were all so good!!
The Times They Are A-Changing: Great use, loved that they used the Nina Simone version, it’s just not as significant to me as the others.
Callback Gnossienne No. 5: this playing while Stede’s looking through the cabin in episode 3 made me want to lay down in the road.
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BPP I have been thoroughly wrecked by Yoongi. HIS VOICE? HIS CHARISMA??
My god. He's been your bias since debut?! You're strong woman. How did you do it?? One concert and I'm ready to bear kids for him. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
/gen
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Ask 2: I'm sorry!!! But look at this!!!! twitter com/sujimschim/status/1652517741226790913 looolll I think army's gonna be okay (pun intended lol) Sorry I think I'm having a post wlive high right now. lol Also did you hear about that insanely lucky army who got Yoongi video on their phone AND got to sit next to Jimin during the concert?! Like WOW. I'm amazed. Isn't that harder than the lottery?? lol Ok I'll really stop. Have a good night!!
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Ask 3: A TO THE G TO THE U TO THE STD
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Ask 4: Yoongi looks SO GOOD IN WHITE T WALKING DOWN THE HALLWAYYYYYYSSSSSS?!@#@!K?!@! THANK YOU JIMIN FOR SCOLDING YOOOONNNNGGGGIIIIII!!!!!!!!!
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Ask 5: I love how Yoongi sticks to his first iteration of Sorry for being cute choreo. That choreo is becoming a lore of its own. yoominforlife lol Also OMGGGG his concert haegeum performance is gonna be LIT. I personally really love the name of the song and all the word play that's hidden inside it
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Ask 6: i want to fuck yoongi till the paint peels off the walls i need to suck his thick fat cock clean empty, gobble his midas balls till i gag and after that read him my deontological critique of neitzche's assertion that god is dead. because god is well and truly alive and i just sucked his balls dry. i was lost and stupid in the wilderness of my ignorance of his divine hotness. i doubted your mind for your esteemed love for him. i was foolish but he has made me a believer. i want to be shoooshed by yoongi. then fuck him till he blacks out. consensually.
sorry. pls don't hate me bpp yoongi just drives me so fucking insane.
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Ask 7: D-Day tour setlist is INSANE. Banger after friggin baanger Bpp! Have you tried to rank Suga's songs before? All his solo songs too can you rank them Bpp?
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Hi Anon(s),
Anon in ask 2, your link. And yeah, that person was super lucky. 💜
I need to confess to y’all. I caved and got myself an earlier ticket. Usually, I buy my tickets for later in the tour to give myself time to calm down and adjust. I’d have spoiled the setlist for myself, listened to it ad infinitum till the lyrics were ingrained and my hormones were in equilibrium. But this time I couldn’t wait till the Cali dates, (still going). I had to see Yoongi tonight.
And Christ, I have ascended.
I know I will not be coherent, I’m already trying to self censor as I write , but I want to get this out here because many of you have sent me asks about him, some I know I can’t post ever, so I’m hoping someone else gets it whatever it is I’m tying to say.
…
Yoongi is so beautiful.
Yoongi is a rock star, and I mean that in a literal sense. He makes rock music, thinks like a rock star, and sings like a rock star. His live renditions of Amygdala are the perfect example of this. Pairing screamo rock in the chorus with the guitar solos in the outro, everything about Yoongi's vision for that song is centered around liberation, a value that's inherent to a rock star.
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(Yes. That’s the objective correct answer.)
I laughed reading all your asks btw. (Anon in ask 6, I see you, I get you, and I don't judge you.) Ranking Agust D's songs is impossible for me. My personal taste is screamo rock and dirty trap or drill, I like songs with distinct percussion, lots of guitars, and/or distortion, voice cracks, autotune, etc. Artists like Nirvana, ONE OK ROCK, Kendrick Lamar, Twenty One Pilots, and Jimin give me bits and pieces of that sound, but no one in BTS knows how to scratch that itch for me better than Yoongi.
He’s just the right kind of insane to speak my language.
The duality that shimmers around Jimin like a mirage and is central to his magnetism, where you can’t be sure of who, what, exactly you’re looking at - man, woman, child, king, snake, panther, cat, metal, silk, fire, ice - all in one. That duality, lives in Yoongi’s music.
It’s elsewhere too, but it lives in his music. Even underneath all of that, he just makes some of the best music around.
That beat change at the end of Shadow? That's music tailor-made for me. Cypher Pt 3, AGUST D (the song), What Do You Think?, Trivia: Seesaw, the live performances of HUH?! and Amygdala are a revelation. All his music sounds perfectly made for me.
I honestly have no choice but to love him.
(I have no words when it comes to Yoongi.)
I won’t exactly rank his music here. I’ll discuss some of my favourites based on things like production, message, flow, feel, etc. Maybe.
Production
724148
This song is criminally underrated. I mean it's a crime more people aren't screaming from the rooftops about how crisp this track is. Listening to 724148 was the first time it really hit me how brilliant Yoongi is as a producer.
So Far Away ft Suran
You need to listen to this song on good speakers. It will change your life for the better. Do that, then come back here and tell me how you feel.
Burn It ft MAX
You know, when I heard the live performance of this song, I called a friend to help me re-calibrate my speakers. To recreate that feel. The production on the song is insane. Not to mention Yoongi's flow in the second verse.
Amygdala
The guitars are placed and layered perfectly. I love how forward the drums are in the mix. The autotune is one of my favourite things about it too. The entire song is perfect.
Daechwita
Am I the only person who hears the same static in the song intro that continues faintly in the foreground for the entirety of the song? As though you're entering a glitch. It's so sick. The main/central beat doesn't vary much, all the texture comes from Yoongi's adlibs. And he does an excellent job elevating it to something more.
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(It truly embarrasses me that I cannot allow myself to talk about him. He’s that… much.)
Flow / Delivery
You've all seen me go on and on about Jimin's vocals. About how much Jimin's voice is the catalyst for ecstasy when I listen to BTS's music. But Yoongi's voice affects me just as strongly, if not more, in a very different way.
I’m a sucker for the kitten. That insane high pitched thing he does drives me to the limits of my sanity. But he’s also a natural baritone. A nasty one at that. You can hear it in the music he makes. And that’s my kryptonite.
Have you listened to HUH?! Like, really listened to it? Do you hear his flow from 1:08 - 1:15?
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Do you hear how disgusting this brat is?
Fuck.
Let’s just move on.
Some favourites where his flow, delivery, switch-ups, is frankly ridiculous:
Shadow
Burn It ft. MAX
AGUST D
HUH?! ft j-hope
Cypher Pt. 3
Aside, the instrumental of this track, along with Cypher Pt. 4, Dionysus trap remix, Danger MMA 2019 version, and We Are Bulletproof Eternal, is incredible.
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Feel
Honsool
Making a list based on pure vibes, Honsool has to show up. Yoongi captured the unmoored, untethered feeling of drifting through haze, distilled and crystalized into Honsool. Genius.
Give It To Me
What Do You Think?
HUH ft j-hope
Tony Montana ft. Jimin
I'm a sucker for the grit in their voices in this song. The live version specifically.
(He’s such a problem for me y’all…)
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Not to get into this, but he also does sweet, poppy songs too. Some faves being That That, Amygdala, People, Trivia: Seesaw…
He is a true artist.
And nothing is hotter than that.
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Message
I started writing this long paragraph about the themes in his music and stopped because I’ve really gone on long enough. I’m barely keeping it together here. I just saw him lose his mind with happiness at the ARMY who disguised her iPhone as a Samsung. That wide smile on his face is still replaying in my head. I’m happy he’s happy, because he’s made me so happy.
Anyway, some fave tracks I reach for, for their message:
5 - Strange ft RM
4 - UGH
3 - Snooze ft Ryuichi Sakamoto & Woosung
2 - Amygdala
1 - People
In a class of its own, I have to mention The Last. That song is a reckoning and wake up call. It's everything and I'm forever proud of Yoongi for making it.
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Have y’all imagined what the concert will be like in 2026? Have you really sat down to think about what it could look like? Because I have. And it looks like pure bliss. No matter what is happening in the world at that time, I must see BTS.
It’s a decision I made last June, but Yoongi on this tour has breathed fire into that desire. He’s made me want him, crave his sound, daydream of his music playing in my head…
If I could I would’ve sued this man already.
Anyway, Anon in ask 1, welcome to getting wrecked by Yoongi. He is layer upon delightful layer of loyal, creative, tortured beautiful genius hovering just on the edge of insanity. I’m hopeful that he completes his tour as planned, enlists as planned, serves as planned, and is discharged and back to BTS as planned.
In the meantime, I’ll fully enjoy the time he’s spending with us and the music he’s making for us. I’m happy y’all are joining me in this too. 💜
#yoongi#min Yoongi#Agust d#Suga#BTS#d day#d day tour#And fuck Hybe with their fuckass dynamic pricing
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15 questions for 15 mutuals
I was tagged by @vimpse. Thank you! <3
1. are you named after anyone?
Yes, after my great-grandmother, who died when I was a baby. When I turned 16, I also took my great-grandmothers last name, simply because I didn't want to carry my father's last name, and she had the most beautiful last name from my entire family.
2. when was the last time you cried?
Three days ago.
3. do you have kids?
No. I follow the philosophy of antinatalism. While I would love to have children, I believe it would be cruel, especially with my genetics. If I had a choice, I wouldn't want to be born, what if my child grows up and feels the same as I do now?
4. do you use sarcasm a lot?
Probably.
5. what sports do you play/have you played?
Never played any sports in my life. I have some breathing problems so physical activity is harder for me than for a healthy person, although I do fitness consistently (lifting and calisthenics) for the first time in my very unfit life. Funny enough, I have the war to thank for that. This winter, when we had blackouts, I was looking for something to do in the evenings, when it's dark, cold and dreary. I tried to do yoga for relaxation, but soon discovered just how weak I was. So I started to include more and more strength building exercises, HIIT workouts, until finally switching to lifting weights.
It's amazing how much easier it is not to quit if your goal isn't to lose weight / get bigger butt or flatter stomach, but to get stronger and have fun. Modern society (yes, we're getting into the "society" talk) is trying to convince you, especially if you're a woman, that you should do fitness for looks. I'm sick of seeing all the female-oriented videos on youtube captioned like "get tOnEd muscles for the summer" or "burn belly fat in SEVEN DAYS" (it's impossible btw). Because god forbid you want to actually grow your muscles, not get them "toned", whatever that means. God forbid you want to become stronger or more flexible, not skinnier with a bigger butt.
I've never been able to stick to a routine because I hate boring repetitive cardio, and it can be very disheartening to see no change on the scale when your only goal is to lose weight. So I thought I was just not a fitness kind of person. But when you feel your body getting stronger, when you realize that your progress depends only on your efforts, it becomes so exciting and fun.
Thanks for coming to my TED talk.
6. what’s the first thing you notice about other people?
Voice and smell. I'm autistic, so I almost never look in the face, but even when I do I usually don't register person's appearance very well. For example, I pass by my neighbors every day, but I have no idea what they look like, so I will never recognize them if we ran into each other somewhere else.
7. scary movies or happy endings?
Scary movies, preferably with happy endings.
8. any special talents?
I'm very good at remembering song lyrics. And I can immediately think of a song for any situation, any prompt.
9. where were you born?
The most depressing town in Donetsk oblast, Ukraine.
10. what are your hobbies?
Maybe these are not really hobbies but - rats and video games. Also, walking around taking pictures of trees, sky and turtles. lol
11. do you have any pets?
I have two cats, a dog and six rats.
12. how tall are you?
173 cm (5.6)
13. fave subject in school?
Ukrainian and Biology
14. dream job?
None. Well, I would love to have a greenhouse and a small business of growing and selling houseplants.
15. eye colour?
Greyish-bluish-greenish something. Always green when I cry, for some reason.
Seems like everyone I know has already done this? :( Let's see...
@eulaliasims, @userdata, @ho3sferatu
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I'll try to keep this short ❤️ I love this album so much 🥺 And I think I told you that Alone would destroy me and it really did... And it's also my favorite from the album. I can't really explain what I feel when I listen to it, but I always have this tightness in my chest. I had it when I first listened to it and I had a feeling the lyrics would make me cry and they did. It really brings me back to my quarantine days... and not to the better ones. It really has that choking, depressing feeling that quarantine had. I really love his singing in the song too 🥺 He sounds amazing, so gentle, so soft, and yet very strong (I'm literally contradicting myself but anyway)
I really liked Like Crazy too. The mv was amazing, and I read so many theories. Most of them were kinda the same, you know with the woman also representing him. Both the English and Korean versions were done so well 🥺 interlude: dive ❤️ his introduction from the busan concert❤️ oh, and the transition between the songs? Him having a drink at the end of dive, and then like crazy having this "being intoxicated in a club" vibe, and alone starting with an alarm clock... I'm obsessed with this. Also I'm SO SAD letter is only on CD 😭😭 Like I understand why, but Jimin 😭 It's my second favorite from the album, and after listening and crying to Alone, I cried to Letter too 💔 The parallels with blue & grey 😭 Shivi, the urge to get a lyric tattoo from alone or letter 😭
Also I still don't know if he's singing "please me" during Like Crazy and we will never know and it will bother me forever 😂 But anyway. He did such an amazing job, I'm so happy he could finally release this album. And I'm so happy he said he got to overcome and heal from these feelings.
Ps. Let Jimin curse on TV okay thanks that's all ❤️ -🦋
putting it under read more bc i rambled lol <3
i love it so much too 🥺 oh and same, alone took me back to my own quarantine days 😭 i was stuck at a relative's place for three months and my aunt wasn't very good to me. i used to cry alone a lot and that was when i had found bangtan :( they really saved me :( and alone took me back to all of those feelings i went through back then before I found bangtan 😭 everyone's stories are so different but im sure so many people related to alone 🥺 (and no i get what you mean by gentle and soft yet so strong, and i agree) i absolutely LOVED face off too. his voice in face off his so addicting and those high notes damn 😭
and like crazy is a fckin bop ✋🏼 RIIIIGHHTTTT i loved the mv too the colours in the mv .. *chef's kiss* (this is me speaking from a gifmaker perspective btw, i thought the mv would be impossible to colour properly but I had so much fun colouring it and I was satisfied w the results gdhfhdjhfdj ANYWAY thats not the point fghdjfhj) AND PLS TEH THEORIES. SO GENIUS. AND THEY MAKE COMPLETE SENSE TOO. yes yes yes you're so right the transition and connection between the songs truly genius 😭😭😭😭 ALSO LETTER!!!!!!!! YES !!!!!!!!!!!!! im obsessed please it is SUCHHHHH a beautiful song 😭😭😭😭 i cried to letter too 😭 its my new song that i fall asleep to 😭 it was with you before this hdjhfjd. its so beautiful and jikook's voices go so well together and they sound so beautiful 😭 and god it being a hidden track and starting at 6:13 of like crazy english version on the cd just .. it just feels sooooo personal and full of love 😭😭😭 i really wish it was on spotify too but I downloaded the song and added it to my playlists through local files thing on spotify 💖 omgomgomg anon you should definitely get the tattoo!!!! <333
i will believe it is "please me" and run with it 🧘🏼♀️ and me too 🥺 the album is so so good im so proud of him 🥺 right, im happy this album helped him to let go of those feelings 🥺
pls you know when they reviewed face off alone and like crazy three days ago and said face off wasn't eligible (?) i thought they totally dropped smf from music shows bc 1. they didn't review it along w the other songs 2. and i thought maybe they didn't review it bc it was already known that it has cussing and i got SO SAD that they wouldn't perform smf 😭 and i was confused too bc bighit did say in the notices that he would perform the prerelease track and the main track. but i was relieved yesterday when they said he performed smf 😌 anywayfddh im dumb. i can't wait to see the performances heheh <33
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youtube
Release: March 9, 2009
Lyrics:
Hey I'm in love
My fingers keep on clicking
To the beating of my heart
Hey I can't stop my feet
Ebony and Ivory and dancing
In the street
Hey it's cause of you
The world is in a crazy hazy hue
My heart is beating like a jungle drum
My heart is beating like a jungle drum
My heart is beating like a jungle drum
Man you got me burnin'
I'm the moment between
The striking and the fire
Hey read my lips
'Cause all they say is
Kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss
No it won't ever stop
My hands are in the air
Yes I'm in love
And so onburuburobummbummbumm
My heart is beating like a jungle drum
My heart is beating like a jungle drum
My heart is beating like a jungle drum
My heart is beating like a jungle drum
Songwriter:
Sidney Joseph Bechet / Zutty Singleton
SongFacts:
“Jungle Drum” is the third single from Icelandic singer-songwriter Emilíana Torrini’s third album, “Me and Armini”. It was released as a digital download on March 9, 2009 and later as a CD single in Germany on June 19, 2009.
Critics received the song very positively; Popmatters reviewer Spencer Tricker called "Jungle Drum" the album's "catchiest song" (alongside "Big Jumps"), "as good as the Fisherman's Woman singles". He also praised the song for having "an irresistible chorus with some completely unexpected interludes." Matthew Allard of ARTISTdirect stated that the song "was intended to be an iPhone advertisement". Clickmusic reviewer Francis Jolley called the song "a lively, fun little gem reminiscent of Nancy Sinatra in her heyday" and "infectious Scandinavian pop." Both Popmatters and Clickmusic reviews praised the song's rhythm section, calling it impossible "not to tap your foot along."
In 2009 she was also seen in the TV show “Germany's Next Top Model”. As a result, the song gained great popularity in German-speaking countries. It was scheduled to appear in the dance video game Just Dance 3, but did not appear for unknown reasons.
In 2010, the track was used as the theme song in a video created for the Icelandic government's official campaign "Inspired by Iceland" to attract tourists to Iceland.
#new#new music#my chaos radio#Emiliana Torrini#Jungle drum#music#spotify#youtube#hit of the day#music video#video of the day#youtube video#good music#2000s#2000s music#2000s video#2000s charts#2009#pop#rock#pop rock#indie pop#lyrics#songfacts#881
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((More Writing, cuz I enjoy it. Moving down the line then))
That last guy was pretty cool. We like the scythe. Tell us about another one.
Alright sure. Might as well continue with the next one.
Traveling a few miles from Thorne's hive, there would be a semblance of a town, with some semblance of a functioning community there. One such house would have music playing there, even at ungodly hours of the day as we approach the hive of a rather plucky Bronze blooded troll. Inside the music would be playing through large and powerful speakers, the things blaring some vague electronic noise that passed as music. Not that the bronze could hear it. She couldn't hear much of anything, actually. Jahnee Feldor would be standing in a room not unlike a garage, tables of prosthetics, Robot parts, and other things that could be considered her trade. The woman was a... technician of sorts, and was also stone deaf. The music did have a purpose, the deep, vibrating bass that lightly vibrated the hive gave Jahnee a sort of ease, as she would drum one hand along with the rhythm. Currently splayed out in front of the woman was a textbook, some sheets of paper, pencils, A large grid over a sketch of a strange and ancient stronghold, and a cheat sheet she was using to record the encounter. Yes, the woman was deep into planning the next brilliant and exciting installment of a tabletop game she had been working on, The woman bobbing her head to some tune she was imagining as her glasses glowed a bit. A small interface would show up in them, the glasses displaying the few lyrics of the song onto her lenses as she'd glance at the projected text, before waving it away and focusing back on the papers. Jahnee would tap her boots on the floor a bit, Her pants having plenty of pockets and room for the many different things she likes to have on her, such as a lucky d20 she kept around, as well as a holster on the back for the impossibly loud shotgun she often used while exploring. She wore a simple tank top over her modest top half, a bronze crest on it to mark it as belonging to hers. Several silly armbands and goofy little baubles adorned her arms and hands, but would come off whenever she was working. She'd have a messy head of hair, Trimmed to stay out of her eyes as her glasses rested on her face, telling her whenever something auditory happened.
This is Jahnee Zelcra, and she is an avid fan of music despite being ENTIRELY DEAF. With some help from a friend, she overcame this by creating a sounds-to-text overlay and operating system for her, in the form of a pair of snazzy designer glasses. She spends her time helping out the... less fortunate of the area, be it offering her services as a technician and robotics enthusiast, making and selling robotic prosthetics for the maimed, disarmed, or impaired. When not doing that, she often played the drums, but had gotten a bit worse since her loss of hearing. She was also an avid Tabletop Gamer and Adventurer, relishing in stories of adventure and mythos surrounding old ruins, sightings of monsters, and fantastical settings. Monsters, creatures, and legends filled her heart with wonder and excitement, and she often offered sessions out to those who showed ANY amount of interest to them. As long as they didn't mind hearing her speak a bit louder than usual. She also tended to go on adventured to the countless old ruins around the planet, sometimes traveling pretty far to scratch that wanderlust itch. There was also, The Van.
Sitting in the garage with her was an honestly slightly disappointing relic of another time. The vehicle didn't run, at all since Jahnee honestly had no idea what the fuck she was looking at when she looked at the motor of it, But the rest of the vehicle looked rather nice. It would be a rather old looking vehicle, Found in some ruins and retrieved by a small swarm of robots she made. The inside would have been redone, the rotted carpeting ripped out, and the vaguely acrid smell of some kind of smoke cleansed out from it. The outside of the van looked amazing, having been repainted over the silly little symbol on the sides and the hood. The best part was the artwork on the side, A large and powerful orc with tusks swinging an axe at a dragon breathing fire at him, an alternian dice rolling on the highest possible side was emblazoned on this strange alien relic. The bronze woman rather proud of the sight, often looking to sight for inspiration for her sessions. How she dreamed of a place where she could be free and just explore and live out the life of an adventurer.
How unbelievably fucking ironic if you ask The Writer.
But yes, This woman went about her night, jamming to the deem buzzing bass of the music she had no idea sounded like, While tinkering and planning for her next grand adventure she would take her friends on.
((Yeah okay, Jahnee has a Van, Sue me.))
((I also don't know how much is here or how much needs to be added so I'm stopping this one here.))
#Spry's Writing Tag#Homestuck Fan Writing#My OCs#homestuck#felt like writing more again.#its pretty frickin nice being able to write about my ocs#Jahnee Feldor
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Scarborough Fair: 1/?
I know I said that I was going to wait until I finished this to post, but I changed my mind. I spend tons of time thinking about this story - way more time than I've spent actually writing it. So I thought going ahead and posting may give me a kick in the pants. I'm hoping to post weekly, fingers crossed.
I wanted to be extremely clear in the tags what this story entails, but I hope some of you will give it a chance nonetheless. Yes, it's going to have heavy parts, but there will also be swooning and epic true love. You'll also see in the tags that this angst, though heavy, will have a happy ending. So . . . trust me? I hope? Haha. This is a CS AU of the Nancy Werlin book Impossible, so if you're familiar with that book, you know what I mean. When I read it, it broke my heart, put it back together again, and gave me massive CS vibes.
Impossible itself was inspired by the folk song Scarborough Fair. Though the most famous version is by Simon & Garfunkel, there are many versions out there. I tweaked the lyrics to fit this story and the world of Once. Enjoy!
Summary: Seventeen-year-old Emma Swan has had a charmed life, despite being a foster child. She has a wonderful family who loves her, and the best friends in the world. The only thing that mars her idyllic existence is her birth mother: a homeless woman who mutters nonsensical rhymes and claims to be Snow White. One fateful night, however, Emma’s world is shattered. Perhaps her mother’s rhymes aren’t nonsense after all.
Rated: M for date rape, dubious consent, teen pregnancy, and sexy times (the good kind!)
Words:2k+
Also on Ao3
Chapter One
“O, where are you going?" "To Scarborough fair,"
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme;
"Remember me to a lass who lives there,
For once she was a true love of mine.
And tell her to make me a cambric shirt,
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme,
Without any seam or needlework,
And then she shall be a true love of mine.
And tell her to find the town which no one knows,
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme,
And reunite the lovers there with a kiss ,
And then she shall be a true love of mine
And there she must sow an acre with but one kernel of corn,
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme,
Upon the seashore before the tide comes,
And then she shall be a true love of mine
Emma saw the rusted shopping cart rattle past out of the corner of her eye. She tried to keep her gaze mostly trained on her friends or on her lunch, but she couldn’t help glancing over towards the fence that surrounded the lunchroom courtyard. Mary Margaret’s long dark hair was matted as usual and laced with drooping, dead dandelions. She had a thing with flowers. And birds. She liked to swipe lawn ornaments for that reason. Propped sideways in the front of her shopping cart was the same chipped and faded bluebird, missing one eye, that she’d had for as long as Emma could remember. The giant pink flamingo was new, though. It rattled against the sides of the cart, banging against the bottles and cans littering the bottom. A whirligig painted like a giant sunflower leaned against the garish flamingo. It spun in the breeze with a faint whir.
Emma forced herself to look nonchalant as she nibbled at her peanut butter and jelly. Maybe it was only a coincidence that Mary Margaret was just outside the schoolyard fence.
“That girl right there! She’s a princess! Princess of Misthaven!”
So much for coincidence. Emma’s gaze lifted and caught Anna’s across the lunch table. Anna arched her brow as if to ask what she could do to help, but Emma was frozen like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights.
“That woman is so weird,” Lily muttered, watching Mary Margaret let go of her shopping cart to clasp the chain link fence in a white knuckled grip.
“Don’t forget who you are! Princess of Misthaven! Daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming!”
Her voice had risen to a shriek, and the teenagers around Emma started to laugh at the homeless woman. A few boys yelled at her to shut up, and one threw his can of soda at her. It clanked against the fence, spraying brown liquid all over Mary Margaret, but the woman didn’t even flinch.
Please don’t say my name. Please don’t say my name.
“Hey, hey you! Emma! I’m talking to you!”
Emma pressed her eyes closed tight. Mary Margaret was so hysterical, it was difficult to understand her, and besides, Emma was a common name. Right?
“Is she yelling at you?” Lily asked, leaning across the table.
“I’m done,” Anna proclaimed, a bit louder than necessary as she jumped up from the table. “Let’s go to the restroom before the bell.”
“Okay,” Lily shrugged and stood up, gathering her tray of barely touched cafeteria food.
Emma followed suit, Anna looping her arm through hers after they’d both tossed their brown paper lunch sacks. Emma’s sister practically dragged her into the school building, and Lily hurried to catch up.
“That blonde right there! The really pretty one!” Mary Margaret continued to yell. “Stop her! I need to talk to her - warn her! You’re too pretty, Emma! Too pretty for your own good!”
That had been Mary Margaret’s obsession this past year and a half - that Emma was too pretty. For some reason, it stung worse than every other crazy thing she had ever said.
“Why was that homeless lady yelling at you, Emma?” Lily asked.
Anna laughed and waved her hand dismissively. “We saw her at the park a couple of weeks ago. We tried to be nice and talk to her, but that was obviously a mistake.”
Hm. Anna was a much better liar than Emma would have expected. Lily seemed to accept it, too.
“Well, I’d go tell the front office if I were you. Maybe the secretary will call the police. That’s harassment.”
Emma only had time to nod at Lily’s suggestion before the bell rang. When the brunette turned her back, Emma mouthed a silent thank you to her sister. As much as Anna could run her mouth, no one in the family would ever breathe the truth about the local homeless lady, the one who claimed to be Snow White.
Because the ugly, embarrassing truth was - “Snow White” was Emma’s mother.
************************************************************
Ingrid Jones grinned as she saw the name flash across her phone screen. If he was calling her, that could only mean two things. Either he couldn’t reach his brother, or he wanted something. Something he didn’t think Liam would agree to.
“Killian!” she said blithely as she answered. “It’s nice to hear from you.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” he replied, and Ingrid’s lips ticked up into a smile. Yes, he wanted something.
Ingrid closed the files littering her desk and leaned back in her office chair. “How did finals go?”
“Well, I think. I mean, I felt pretty confident about everything but statistics. That class was tough.”
“You’ve always been too smart for your own good. I’m sure you did more than fine.”
Killian chuckled in a self-deprecating way. He was an odd dichotomy of cockiness and insecurity. It was part youth and part the tragedy he was born into.
“Listen, Ingrid,” Killian transitioned, clearing his throat nervously, “there’s been a slight change of plans, and I’m afraid it’s going to throw the entire summer off.”
Ingrid laughed merrily at his typical melodramatics. “Which is it, Killy, a slight change or an atomic bomb to the entire summer?”
Killian ignored the nickname that he only - rarely - tolerated from Ingrid and Anna. “If I wanted someone to tease me, I would have called Liam.”
“Sorry, sorry, what’s the issue?”
“Well, you know that on-campus summer job my roommate helped me get?”
“Yes. The job that broke all our hearts because you wouldn’t be coming home.”
“Broken hearts?” Killian asked, and she could practically feel his smug grin through her phone.
“Of course! Melodramatics are apparently a family trait.”
“In that case, maybe I worried for nothing. The job fell through, which means we have to move out of the dorm. I’ve already gotten a new summer job, it pays even more, actually. It’s just -”
“You need your old room back?”
“Please?”
Ingrid laughed again, able to hear the puppy dog eyes and pouting smile in that one emotionally laden word. The boy could charm his way into - or out of - anything.
“Of course you can, Killy.”
“Liam won’t mind?”
“Not if I tell him I already told you yes. And the girls will be thrilled. If only Elsa wasn’t interning on the Titanic.”
“It’s a research ship in the North Sea, Ingrid.”
“Still sounds like she could hit an iceberg or something.”
“Nope, that’s the Atlantic.”
“It’s really annoying having such smart kids, you know.”
Killian laughed, and Ingrid found her heart filling up at the thought of him being home. Truth be told, she had been a little down lately over her college kids foregoing summer break at home. Summers and holidays were supposed to ease the whole “letting them go” thing.
“If Liam’s not mad about it -”
“You really think your brother will be pissed that you’re coming home?”
“I know he loves me and wants to see me, but we argued over that on campus job when I applied for it. I don’t know, I guess I just didn’t want to hear him rub it in. Or find out he’d finally changed my room into a music room.”
“He’d have to get through me first. I’m the sentimental one, remember? So, what was your other request?”
“Help moving out this Saturday? It’s probably gonna take all four of you, but I really need Liam’s truck.”
“First of all, I find it hard to believe a nineteen-year-old college student has that much stuff. Second, the girls and I can’t help. We’re prom dress shopping this Saturday.”
“Emma’s going to the prom!”
Ingrid thought she heard a thud followed by scuffling noises. “Did you just drop the phone?”
“Uh no, of course not.”
“And you did hear me say girls, plural. Anna’s going too.”
“Oh, like a group thing.”
“No, they both have dates.”
“I knew Anna was seeing that idiot, but since when does Emma date?”
Ingrid sighed and turned her chair towards the window. A spring breeze tossed the leaves of the trees. “The idiot’s name is Hans, and for Emma it’s just a date. She’s a junior. She wants to go to the prom. A guy asked her. That’s it.”
“What guy? I mean, Emma’s always gone on and on about how foolish girls get about boys in high school, and how that’s never gonna be her.”
“His name is Neal Cassidy.”
“And?”
“I don’t know. He goes to school with Emma. They have a few classes together.”
“You mean you haven’t met the guy!”
“Well, no” Ingrid frowned as she watched sparrows flit amongst the branches of the tree. Did Killian have a point? Should she have invited this Neal kid over? It was amazing that after seventeen years, she still second guessed herself at this parenting thing. Even a college freshman seemed to be more concerned about prom than she was. She shook her head at how ridiculous that sounded. Killian had always been over protective of his sisters. He’d gotten into his share of fights over Elsa in middle school when she’d been bullied, he’d crawled through a thorny bush on a camping trip to get to Anna when she sprained her ankle two years ago, and then there was Emma. Perhaps because of the specter that was Mary Margaret, he was particularly protective of Emma.
“Listen, Killian, I know you take the over protective big brother gig very seriously, but I really think you’re making a big deal out of nothing. Emma told me she has no romantic interest in this guy. Common interests, those were her words. Honestly, she sounded like she was picking out a sensible car instead of a prom date. She’ll go, she’ll dance, she’ll eat, she’ll come home. It’s not quite the crisis situation you're imagining. This is Emma we’re talking about. Now Anna with that creep Hans, on the other hand . . .”
Killian let out a shaky breath. “I suppose you’re right. Emma’s the smartest girl I know.”
A voice behind her chair made Ingrid whirl around. Linette, her level-headed yet compassionate human resources director stood there looking a bit dazed, her hands fluttering nervously at her waist.
“Um, Killian, I need to let you go okay?”
“Sure. And thanks, Ingrid.”
“We’re family. No thanks needed.” She ended the call, then focused her gaze on Linette. “Everything okay?”
“More than okay,” the woman replied with a dreamy sigh.
Ingrid narrowed her eyes. In the past twenty years working together, she had never seen her like this. “Just spit it out, Linette.”
“I hired someone.”
“For what? We have no openings!”
“I know.” Linette blinked, as if trying to focus, “but when you meet him . . .”
“I assume this is the lovely director?”
The man standing in the doorway was in no way a heartthrob. He was older, for one thing, with shoulder length, messy gray hair. He also walked awkwardly, leaning heavily on a cane. Yet there was something about him, an aura. Ingrid felt light headed, and a silly giggle tumbled from her lips when the man leaned over her hand and kissed it.
“Charmed, dearie,” he said to her in a dulcet voice.
Ingrid’s gaze was drawn to the amulet about his neck which he touched with long, thin fingers. The longer she gazed upon it, the hazier her thoughts became.
“Now,” he said, putting an arm firmly about her shoulders, “let’s talk about my new position here. More importantly, however, I want to know all about you and your family . . .”
Tagging: (let me know if you wish to be removed or added): @snowbellewells @teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @xhookswenchx @winterbythesea @thisonesatellite @welllpthisishappening @spartanguard @ohmakemeahercules @tiganasummertree @sparlecorn93 @sals86 @pirateprincessofpizza @xarandomdreamx @zaharadessert @huntressandlioness1 @jamif @undercaffinatednightmare @onceratheart18 @sparlecorn93 @sals86 @pirateprincessofpizza @xarandomdreamx @zaharadessert @huntressandlioness1
#cs ff#cs fanfic#captain swan ff#captain swan fanfic#angst#heavy angst#angst with a happy ending#cs impossible au
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