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dilfsfordinner · 5 months

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honeymoon- nanami kento x wife!reader

a/n- in preparation for this week’s episode, this is my ode to my husband

warnings- fem!reader, unprotected sex, praise, missionary pos, mating press, belly bulge, nanami has a big d, implied breeding kink, fluffff

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Nanami Kento had been dreaming of a vacation. Somewhere with sand and palm trees, warm weather, the ocean, you. Now it would take a lot for him to admit this because he’s not a dreamer, per se, especially with his strict work ethic, but the amount of times he had to catch himself during a shift from drifting off in a fantasy about sleeping in or relaxing on the beach, you could say he had started to reflect his child-like self.

Except every single one of those dreams could not rival the feeling of experiencing his honeymoon with you. He’d gotten what he wanted. A private villa, surrounded by greenery with a whole rainbow of colors blessing the space. Red, orange, pink, and especially white flowers would pop out from the dense leaves of the tropical garden that was essentially your front yard, their sweet perfume just light enough to not be too overbearing. The villa was perched in a cluster of palms, the white-sand beaches of the Caribbean literally at your disposal by a pathway from your bedroom, its wood-lined trail leading down to a private oceanside cove of sand and the most vivid aquamarine water you’d ever seen.

It had been five days since the two of you had arrived at your little oasis, 120 hours of complete and utter relaxation accompanied by sheer happiness. You could barely contain your excitement for the trip when he’d announced the surprise destination a month before your wedding, and that giddiness you were once feeling was multiplied tenfold. Kento Nanami was finally your husband. The man you had fallen for was now tied to you legally and emotionally, the two of you matching with the golden bands placed upon your fingers, yours just a tad bit more extravagant with the stone you had dreamt of forged perfectly into the smooth metal.

Your favorite gift you had received though was once again from your husband. It had been given on the day of your wedding, a little white, bow-tied box placed in your hands before the reception. Upon opening it, you were met with a pretty bracelet, a twisted chain of pure platinum so uniformly perfect, you knew your husband had picked it. Your favorite part however, was the tiny charm hanging from the chain, a cursive “k” inscribed into the precious material, a clear sign of your newly wed’s hand in the purchase. “I’m yours now,” he had whispered into your hair, kissing away a stray tear from your cheek before helping you clasp the delicate chain around your wrist.

For days you had thanked him any way you could for his kindness, the two new additions he’d gifted so beautifully thoughtful, gifts that certainly garnered a lot of attention, especially when it came to some.. exerting activities.

It was like the atmosphere had turned you two into animals, your bodies sore from the endless (sorry for lack of a better word), fucking, the tension so thick you could feel it heavy in your chest, the warm, salty breeze flowing through the mesh, white curtains of your bedroom doing nothing to help calm your lustful state.

It was nearly dusk and your current session had started about an hour ago, any and every position you could think of already tried, your body turned and flipped a multitude of times before you were placed on your back again, thighs pushed up against your chest, your legs falling over your husband’s broad shoulders.

Your throat was dry from the fountain of moans constantly spilling from your mouth, Nanami’s name starting to sound like an imaginary word from the amount of times you’d choked out the syllables. Don’t be too embarrassed though because he was just as knocked as you, his skin flush from exertion, sweat dampening his blonde locks, and his usually cool tone of voice had turned desperate, your own name a slurred grumble or groan every time he felt you clench around him.

Your silky, white nightgown had been discarded long ago, the little scrap of fabric on the floor reminding you of what had started this escapade in the first place. The memory of Nanami’s eyes darkening when you’d emerged for bedtime had your stomach tightening and eyes squeezing shut. You’d known him for who knows how long and he still managed to make you feel like a horny teenager with just one look.

“My perfect wife,” he panted into your neck, heavy cock nudging your deepest parts, you could feel him in your belly, could even see him in your belly, the area below your navel molding just slightly into the shape of his cock every time he would push into you.

Your skin was glowing from the last remnants of sunlight reaching through the gauzey curtains, the ocean waves gentle as they crashed along the shore, wrapping you in a cocoon of pure passion, the current moment so perfect and loving, one of Nanami’s hands snaking into your palm to ground you, the other resting beside your head as he kissed the tender curve of your neck.

He was a warm lover. Caring, romantic, a listener. Someone who focuses on giving instead of stealing pleasure. That’s why it was so easy to give him your trust, to open yourself up to him emotionally, and physically. Someone who easily outshined anyone when it came to choosing who to share your remaining years with.

Your ring fingers clinked together when he pushed into you with a particularly needy thrust, the golden bands once again twining as his fingers curled over your own in a firm lock. “Only yours,” you whimpered out, voice almost breaking from your very vulnerable position, your chest compromised as your legs were propped up, the backs of your thighs fitting against his chest, folding over his shoulders at the knees.

Not only did your words drive him crazy, but the little jingle he would hear every time his hips connected with your own had his eyebrows knitting with some primal need to actually make you his. The bracelet he’d gifted you had ended up clasped around your delicate ankle, the silver charm glinting his initial in the low lights, every little reflection catching his peripheral, spurring him on. You had done it on purpose. You had known he would have you folded sooner or later and you knew how much he loved to mark you, that piece of jewelry a literal signing of his name on you.

Your mouths latched onto each other, hurried kisses ending in heavy breaths against each other’s face or neck, eventually your foreheads being the place of rest as he continued to fuck you with every ounce of energy in his body.

“-love you, s’much,” you murmured, voice lilting with the rising pleasure in your core, his thick length prodding every ridge you had to offer, that spongey spot of nerves catching his head with every pass, eliciting a gasp from your lips, Nanami’s jaw clenching as he held himself back from completely plowing into you, your approaching climax drawing a rush of liquid from your twitching cunt, trickling onto his thighs.

“I love you,” he kissed you this time, his strong hand fisting the sheets beside your head, the other still clutching onto your hand as he knocked the breath from your lungs, his cock feeling like a full-blown spear impaling you, the only thing keeping you sane being his mouth on you, and the sweet-nothings groaned from his lips.

***

It was dark by the time you two had truly finished with each other, your body curled up in Nanami’s lap as he lounged with you on the large chairs placed outside the curtains of your bedroom, the moonlight bouncing off the waves as they continued their trek across the shore.

His nimble fingers traced gentle shapes on your back, your upper body covered by his blue shirt, dwarfing your form in a pool of fabric, Nanami modeling your “half-nakedness” with only a pair of boxers, his strong legs visible to your very sleepy, but eager eyes.

Some type of tropical, cricket creature hummed a pretty song, coaxing your eyelids to flutter, your body sinking further into your husband’s hold, your cheek nestled gently against the soft curves of his collarbone, his heartbeat steady in your ear.

Taking note of your drifting consciousness, Nanami smiled down at your curled up form, fingers slowly letting up on their brief massage session to brace his hold. “Let’s get you to bed,” he murmured, kissing the top of your hair with such tenderness you almost agreed to get up and listen, but he was just so warm and cozy.

Pretending to not hear him, you put on your best sleeping face, mouth opening slightly to really pull it off, the tiniest of snores leaving you in a very convincing manner. Silence followed your antics before a rumble vibrated from the chest of the man you lied on, a soft laugh leaving him as he took in your ‘sleeping state’, a laugh that had your lips twitching, a smile almost breaking out on your face.

“What a shame.. the Mrs. has fallen asleep on me,” he sighed, voice filled with faux sorrow, and when he relaxed back into the chair, you thought the victory was yours, nuzzling back against his chest to comfortably relax again. That was.. before your world was turned upside down, a yelp echoing from your throat as Nanami hoisted you over his shoulder, your bottom cradled by his large hand as he smiled that stupid smile of his and trekked back into the bedroom, all fatigue gone from the two of you, replaced with the teasing air of aching want.

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#nanami kento smut #nanami x fem!reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk smut #nanami smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #husband nanami #nanami kento fluff #nanami fluff #nanami jjk #i need him #GUYS GO LOOK AT HIS SMILE IN THE PREVIEW

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justanerdy-gal · 3 months

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"Do You Resent Me?" (Astarion x Tav)

-> pairing: Astarion x Tav -> content: fluff/angst -> summary: In which Tav wonders whether Astarion resents her for convincing him to choose to reject the Black Mass ritual and not Ascend. Full of angsty fluff.

-> notes: The finished version of the WIP I posted yesterday. Astarion & Tav draws all the angst and cheesy fluff out of me 🥹

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“Do you resent me?”

Astarion looks up, wearily, from the corner of the Elfsong Tavern room that they had been staying in for some time now.

“Darling….what would I have to resent you for…?”

You slowly walk over to his corner of the room, and sit beside him on the edge of the bed. You observe him as he turns his gaze over to the hands in his lap.

“It…just feels like…you may have made your choice because of…me.”

Astarion turns his head to look back at you, betraying nothing in those crimson eyes at the moment, but listening.

“If I wasn’t around….you would have been free to make the choice you always wanted,” you continued, your eyes glassing over as you ponder the thoughts that have been plaguing you since the moment Astarion made his choice in the Szarr palace.

“The freedom that you always craved… did I take that away from you?”

Astarion’s eyes widened as you made your declaration.

“You… think it wasn’t the right choice?”

“Not that,” you tried to clarify. “Maybe… maybe I don’t know what the right choice is. But what mattered is… your choice.”

“You trusted me. You trusted me with a choice that, in the end, goes back centuries…” your voice starts to shake. “A choice with consequences you must live with for…eternity.” You look up at him as tears finally threaten to pour from your eyes. “What right did I have, to ask you to sacrifice yourself to the shadows?”

Astarion stares at you as he ponders your statement. He looks away from you as he stares at the cracked, drying paint on the wall of the old room.

“I think about it every minute, every moment.” Astarion speaks slowly, softly. “I think about the colours of the city. The warmth of the rays at dawn, beckoning me towards the next day. I think about the sanguine hunger I have suffered for over 200 years, and how I could be free from that pain. Free from all limitations. And how that will never be now… once the parasite is destroyed.”

You look up at him in despair as your body threatens to let out a sob.

“And I think about… how it would never be enough.”

It was your turn for your eyes to widen. His gaze had softened as his fingers move to entwine in your own.

“I see the colours through your eyes, through the stories that you tell me of your adventures. I feel the warmth through your skin as you lay beside me every night.”

“And your blood can sate me better than any power can.” You giggle as he smirks, softly wiping the tears from your eyes.

“Before you, before this nautiloid fiasco … I had no reason to want anything else but freedom and power. I only lived to escape what I was. I had everything to gain. And nothing to lose. So ofcourse, this Ascension seemed like an obvious choice.”

“But everything changed,” Astarion said breathily. “From the moment you wormed your way into my heart…you became a complication that I never expected. Suddenly, I had everything to lose.”

“I would have stayed,” you say thickly.

“I know you would,” Astarion says sadly, “but would you have been happy?”

“I probably would have been happy…happier than I was, for sure.” Astarion stares distantly at the wall as he speaks. “But where would that happiness end? What would sate me, if my happiness was dependent on power? I would have to take more, control more, be more…it is surely the fate that befell Cazador, that befalls all with power…more power than they know what to do with.” Astarion winces as he utters his late master’s name. “The need for power, for control, can never be sated. It would never be enough. Nothing would ever be enough.”

“But you, with me, here? That is enough. You are enough. We are enough.”

You pause as you ponder his words for a moment.

“Am I?” you whisper weakly as you stare at your entwined hands.

You feel the chill of his hands as they move up to hold your face tightly, and tilts your head up to look at him. The intensity in his eyes at that moment was like nothing you’ve ever seen on him before.

“Listen to me,” he says firmly, staring fiercely into your eyes, as if he was speaking through to your soul. “There is nothing in the world that I wouldn’t sacrifice to remain here by your side. You are my eternity. My mad love. Besides,” Astarion smiles as he stares into your eyes. “I still think it was the right choice, regardless. If I could go back and do it all over again, I’d make the same choice. Every time.”

Astarion’s words cause the tears that you were holding back to creep up to the surface, as your body begins to wrack with heavy sobs, as you let out the doubt and fear that you have been holding since you both learned that the Ascension was a thing – since you have contemplated that potential decision every minute of every day, since the moment Astarion asked you to help him, and you convinced him to give away that power, to save those souls, to save himself. Astarion pulls your head to his chest and holds you tightly as you shake against him.

“My darling, why do you weep? Don’t sell yourself so short. No one else has a heart like you. You’re the only one,” Astarion whispers into your ear.

“I love you,” you declare into his shirt, tears still staining the soft, white material.

“I love you too,” Astarion says, leaning backward, pulling you down with him until he was laying on his back, with your head resting on his chest, hands softly caressing your hair. “I can’t imagine another way I would want to spend the rest of my days, my love. I’m not afraid – not anymore. And especially not of our future.”

And that is how you both fell asleep, with the two of you in eachother’s arms and your dreams of the future in eachother’s hearts.

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My AO3 and Twitter 🙂

MASTERLIST

#baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic idea #astarion fluff #tav fanfic

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7s3ven · 3 months

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can you please do poseidon/reader and she finds out luke is the lightning thief?

THE GRUDGE. luke (pjo)

( master list )

IN WHICH… Y/N L/N can’t forgive Luke for his crimes despite loving him more than she loves herself.

“I know in my heart hurt people, hurt people. And we both drew blood, but, man, those cuts were never equal.”

Warnings : spoilers, small angst (in my opinion lol. I’m more sensitive to family/friendship angst, not relationship angst), short(ish) oneshot

A/N : to any other writers, do you ever act out the situations you’re writing so you can write a better descriptions of reactions and then you realise that you’re actually a good actor?

Because I literally just acted out Y/N’s reaction and either I’m great at fake crying (which has been a talent of mine) … or my heart-wrenching sobs were real 😨. Also, the song one of us from the Lion King suits Luke perfectly.

—

The life of a half-blood wasn’t easy, especially not when you were a forbidden child. Y/N flipped through her fashion magazine, aimlessly swinging her legs as she lay on her front. “Y/N.” Luke called out, pushing the creaky door open. She lifted her head, staring at him curiously.

“Hey, Luke.” She smiled at him, clasping her hands together. He grinned back, slowly walking over to her side.

“You feeling okay?” He asked, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder. With Percy, her half-brother gone, she was alone in her cabin. Again.

Y/N gazed at him through her lashes. “Yeah. I’m good. I’m fine.” She whispered, reaching out to grasp his wrist. Luke bit the inside of his cheek.

“I have your phone.” Luke uttered, handing Y/N her device. Phones weren’t allowed in camp but Luke found a way around that, much to Y/N’s happiness. She had spent far too long in the mortal world to give up scrolling through social media.

“Thanks, love.” Her pink-tinted lips curved into a soft smile. “You have no idea how much I need this now that Percy is gone on his quest. It’s so lonely here.”

Y/N always hated being in her own company. Her cabin got messy and she never had the motivation to clean it. She was thankful for Luke because he always helped her with the mundane task that should have been easy, but not for her.

“No problem, princess.” Luke lightly kissed her forehead while she laughed. “I can’t wait until Percy is back because I have a feeling that things are about to change.” Nothing good lasts for long. Y/N, more than anyone, knew that. She stalked through the thick vegetation, harbouring a heavy sword. She had heard rumours of Luke… and she needed to confirm it for herself, even if it meant endangering her safety.

“Luke.” She called out, her voice shaking. She didn’t want to believe the rumours but Luke was unpredictable. Ever since returning from his quest, he hadn’t been the same.

Y/N had been at Camp Half-Blood for longer than most and she had seen demigods come and go, desperately searching for glory but never finding enough of it.

“Luke.” She said again, repeating it like it was a mantra that would save him from the terrible fate he had chosen. She dragged her sword against the ground, her eyes scanning for the slightest bit of movement amongst the trees.

She sighed, thinking of returning to camp before she spotted a flicker of orange. "Luke?" She whispered, but he still heard her. She stepped towards him, breathing heavily.

"Luke... what... is it true? Did you..." Y/N couldn't find the right words. "What did you do, Luke?" She asked, grabbing him by the front of his shirt when she noticed how he avoided her gaze and how his eyes looked so guilty. "What did you do?!"

"I did what I had to, Y/N. The gods... they don't care about us." Luke stiffened as Y/N glowered at him, her eyes filled with so much rage and hate and sadness and everything in between.

"You're wrong, Luke!" She exclaimed, harshly shaking him.

"I'm not like you, Y/N! My father doesn't care about me. Yours might give a shit about you but that doesn't apply to anyone! Look around you. Poseidon ignored Percy for years while nurturing you. My father abandoned my mother and I when he could have helped us. Ares hates Clarisse for being a girl and forces her to train harder until she collapses. They try so hard to find every little flaw in us that they ignore what we've done for them."

"But why this, Luke? Why betray us? Me! You betrayed me, Luke! And all your friends and family! Hermes may not give a shit about you, but I do! I have loved you since we first met, Luke! I fucking love you and you betrayed me!" Y/N slammed her fists against his chest, screaming until tears welled up in her eyes. "What did you do to Percy?" She muttered, her voice barely even a whisper. "Tell me. Tell me now and I might spare you! Please… please.” She hiccuped, her hits growing weaker.

Luke wheezed as Y/N gripped his throat for a split second. "He'll be fine... he only got stung."

"I hate you." Y/N seethed, rage engulfing her soft heart until it spilled out and poisoned her body with its toxins. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you! Gods, I hate you, Luke! Fuck you! Fuck… you!” She screamed, the sound echoing around the empty trees.

But she still couldn't bring herself to stab him. "Get out of here, Luke. Go! Leave! I never want to see your face again!" Y/N's voice shook as she shoved Luke away from her.

Heart-wrenching sobs slipped past her lips as she pointed an accusing finger at Luke. "The gods have fucked up, Luke, but you are no different. Maybe you had the right idea at first... but you went with it the wrong way. And it cost you everything. Don't go near Percy again. Don’t you dare touch him ever again! You don’t deserve his kindness! Don't even look at him because I promise you, if you do, I will drive a stake through your heart!” Y/N's confident voice faltered for a moment. She shakily inhaled. "I hope you're happy with yourself." That fated day still haunted Y/N's mind. She often had nightmares about it, where things turned out different had she stabbed Luke. She always woke up with a loud gasp, covered in a light layer of sweat.

On her nightside table, her phone rang. She hadn't been using it much since Luke left. She slowly reached for it. Nobody had her phone number except her close friend, who lived in Tokyo, her cousin, and... Luke.

Her heart was beating unusually fast as she shakily turned the device over to peer at the screen. Her stomach churned and she dropped her phone in horror. Percy was in the infirmary, still recovering from the pit scorpion attack. She was somewhat thankful for that.

She let the phone ring, letting out a sigh of relief when it finally stopped. But it started again, and again. Until on the third ring, she finally clicked the green button.

She didn't say anything, flinching at the sound of Luke's voice. "Y/N? Y/N. Thank goodness you picked up! I knew you weren't going to answer my iris message so I was hoping your phone was working."

Y/N cut Luke off from his ranting. "Luke... don't call me again."

"Wait, Y/N. Please listen to me. I love"-

She hung up before he could finish. She stared at her phone, gripping it tightly. With a guttural scream, she threw it across the room. It landed safely on Percy's bed and a part of her was glad that it did. It was one of the only things she had left from Luke.

She didn't know if she could ever forgive Luke for betraying her trust. And the worst thing was that she still loved him from the bottom of her heart. "You good?" Y/N quietly walked towards Percy, helping him sit up. He groaned.

"Yeah. I'm sorry about Luke... I know how much he meant to you." Percy's eyes softened as he stared at Y/N, intertwining his fingers with hers.

"He, uh... tried calling me last night." Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line.

Percy tilted his head to the side. "So what'd you do?"

"I ignored him until the third time... then I hung up after I told him to stop contacting me."

"You don't have to be so tough all the time, Y/N." Percy uttered, pulling her into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around her waste and she sighed.

"I really want to scream, Percy. I just... can't believe he could do that so easily. I mean, leave us... leave me. I'm trying not to care and I'm trying to say I'm fine but I can't let it go." Tears welled up again, dripping down the red apples of her cheeks.

Y/N would be lying if she said she hadn’t tried to figure out why Luke did what he did. She tried to piece everything together but it only hurt her head and heart to think.

After ensuring Percy was comfortable, she stepped outside. The camp was in utter chaos after Luke’s betrayal and they were trying to find more spies amongst them. Most people suspected Y/N because she ran into the woods to confront Luke and she was closely associated with him, which didn’t help. But she loved her friends and she could never leave them as Luke had.

She wandered into a small clearing, dipping her hand into a cold river nearby to calm herself. She didn’t even notice someone was watching her from behind until they cleared their throat.

With a panicked gasp, Y/N looked over her shoulder. She was expecting a fellow camper, maybe even Luke, but not Hermes in all his glory. The pair stared at each other for a minute before Hermes finally broke the awkward silence.

“You’re Y/N, right?” He hesitatingly pointed at her, worried he had the wrong girl.

She nodded.

“I know I’m probably the last person you want to see after Luke left.” Hermes started off, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck.

“Luke is the last person I want to see.” Y/N retorted, “You’re second on that list.”

“He really did like you, you know."

“It wasn’t enough apparently.” Y/N shrugged, already accepting that she could tear Luke from his fate, “Maybe I deserved the betrayal… but not from Luke. He practically made me into the person I am. I guess he wanted to see how high he could build me before I fell. He had everything yet he still wanted more.”

“He cared about you. Dare I say, Y/N, he love”-

She cut him off just as she had cut Luke off. “Don’t say he loved me because if he did then he wouldn’t have done this! He… he wouldn’t have done all this!” Y/N choked on her words as she bit back a sob.

“He still loves you. Not loved. Not past-tense. Never past-tense. I’ve seen him, you know. He misses you and for a while, he tried to contact you in every way he could just so he could hear your voice. Even if you were screaming at him. I know that in another life, he wishes he didn’t have to leave you behind.”

“There shouldn’t be another life!” Y/N exclaimed. Getting angry at a god was dangerous but she was so frustrated and angry and hurt. Hermes didn’t seem to mind. He nodded his head, understanding her emotions. “Don’t you get it? You also have to take the blame. You’re part of the reason why he betrayed us!”

“He’ll forgive me eventually.”

Y/N shook her head. “No. You and every other deity thinks that your neglected child will forgive you but they might not. They might forgive but they will never forget. If I can’t even forgive the boy I love with all my heart, how do you think Luke will ever forgive you?” She furrowed her eyebrows.

“Forgiveness takes strength." Hermes whispered, barely loud enough for Y/N to hear. "Luke is much stronger than I originally thought and you, the mighty daughter of the sea god himself, are too.”

“Yeah, well,” Y/N shrugged as she stood up, brushing the dirty off her pants. “I don’t think I’m quite there yet.”

“It takes time.” Hermes said, “Meanwhile, I would suggest answering that.” He pointed at her phone that was ringing in her hand. Y/N didn’t even notice with how distracted she was.

She briefly looked down at the screen and raised her head again, her lips parting when Hermes was nowhere to be seen.

She hesitatingly pressed the accept button and raised her phone to her ear. She heard him quietly gasp, surprised she even answered again. “Luke… hi.”

PJO TAG LIST : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbaby @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @luvvfromme @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree @mqg125 @jamesmackreideswife @niktwazny303 @2hiigh2cry @user021099 @living-in-my-imagination88 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx

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thesiltverses · 23 days

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Hello! I found the silt verses about three weeks ago and have listened to it several times since. I have a few things to say.

I absolutely adore that episode about the national grid workers. I think it’s my favorite episode of any podcast I’ve ever listened to. My favorite part of that first episode Paige is in is how she justifies not standing up for Vaughn, that cognitive dissonance that you wrote so well. This episode gives me what I wanted from that episode, the workers all banding together to stop the wasteful sacrifice of one of them. The actor who played the foreman did an incredible job as well. I think that having him discuss which of his workers he would sacrifice was such a significant moment, despite how brief it is. It cuts right to the big question that I took away from the podcast which is, “How much is someone willing to sacrifice in order to maintain their comfort?” And the utter disrespect of Glodditch (apologies for the spelling) refusing to cancel even the radio but asking grid workers to kill themselves for 200kw/h! Top tier episode.

I grew up in the south and went to college in Appalachia. I saw the disparity in technology and “advancement” if that makes sense that poverty brings, and the way you set up the world invokes that feeling in me again. You are an amazing world builder and storyteller.

I really enjoyed the cameos - I’m a big fan of malevolent/devisor, Old gods of Appalachia, and all of Jonny sims work, so hearing familiar voices was an absolute delight. Harlan Guthrie as an acolyte of the snuff gods might have been a bit too on the nose with some of the things that man writes, though… /pos

I’m transmasculine, and something that I really appreciate is how you manage to make a trans man do some objectively awful things, but still manage to make him a complex, full character that I was rooting for very frequently. Brother Faulkner is so, so important to me as a character. Paula Vogel has a play called “Indecent,” which is about the true story of a troupe of I believe German Jewish actors between the years of 1910ish and 1940s putting on a show called “God of Vengeance” by Sholem Asch, also a Jewish man. “God of Vengeance” has queer themes and received a lot of criticism from the Jewish community for showing Jewish folks in a “bad” light at a time when there was already so much hatred for Jewish people. Brother Faulkner being as complex and, in my opinion, malicious and cutthroat as he is at a time when trans people face so much bigotry, especially legislatively in the United States, brings this conversation about “God of Vengeance” up again for me. I also love how normalized non-binary people are in this world, without question. “Sibling this or that,” the hunter, adjudicator Shrew - big thanks from me for all of this.

All of this to say, I love this podcast. Can you talk more about the rhetorical gods? Is Babble one? What makes them one if they are, or why aren’t they? I’m fascinated by them. Can you talk more about the propaganda gods too?

Thank you so much for the thoughtful and kind words!

I'll check out Indecent, it sounds really interesting and I'm very glad to hear Faulkner works for you as a character. I think the topic of how to include and write queer characters who are capable of terrible things and thoughts (because, after all, these characters are human beings and not tutelary exemplars), within the context of both a rising movement of transphobia right now and centuries-old scapegoating / pathologising portrayals more generally, is a really knotty but a really important one, and I always want to make sure I'm approaching it with care and due responsibility as well as a sense of humility around the limitations of what, as a cis writer, I can actually achieve.

To that end, I don't want to ever take the audience response for granted, but I'm always really grateful to hear that the portrayal is working for a listener!

Propaganda gods: gods whose prayer-marks or ritual verses are fed directly to the enemy, enforcing destructive or sabotaging changes to reality (so rather than sending a destructive saint or angel to rampage over the foe, you might drop pamphlets or send radio messages to the enemy to 'convert' them).

Rhetorical gods: gods whose followers possess reality-warping powers of language itself (which is why 'rhetorical god' is a polite way of saying 'liar's god'). In other words, the paranoia around them comes partly down to the fact that a disciple like Val may appear to be a limitless shaper of new forms, rather than shaped into a limited form of their own, as a result of their worship.

#carmen maria machado has a fun mini-essay about queer villainous portrayals which I do recommend

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yanderesimp2000 · 1 month

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Yandere vox x Fem reader Vox makes you his Kissing slave (minors will be blocked)

you guys voted on this I was originally just gonna do head canons but I decided to not be a lazy POS and right a full blown story

Warnings kidnapping, Pet names, hypnosis , Vox in himself is a TW, ,collars,elector shocking, non con touching and kissing,Raging TV man boner

first time with vox so feedback is appreciated

My requests are OPEN!!!!!!!!!!!

You worked at VoxTek you were a set designer .you were walking into work that day you didn't like the job but the pay was good but around half way through you day you were approached by one of vox's assistants you and said that Vox was calling you you shivered in fear from what he might do but you walked into his office anyway

Sitting on the couch in his office were the TV demon himself, Vox. He turned to you with a cruel grimace and crossed his arms across his chest. you were scared shitless and whimpered h-hello sir

He looked at you up and down for a moment, as if inspecting you. Vox: “Sit down.” He gestures to the open spot opposite him on the couch. you were still scared but sat down right next to him “Do you know why I called you here?” vox asked in a cruel and malicious manner "n-no sir" you stuttered "Ive noticed you've been falling behind and taking unapproved breaks" vox said in a serious voice You gulped, knowing he was telling the truth. As a junior employee, you did all the dirty work. There was no time for rest. vox then spoke again "And that's not all. It's not the first time you've made mistakes in your work. Do you understand?" His cruel expression was like a dagger in your chest. You were so scared you could barely speak.

you were shaking as you said "im sorry sir it wont happen again " you said in your same stuttery voice "Do you know what happens when an associate makes me lose money?" You shake your head no in response. "they get punished" this scared you shitless and you started begging for forgiveness vox then grinned and uttered

"Do you think that would be enough after you've caused me to lose money?" Vox's stern expression was giving you more pressure, as if he was planning to do something horrible. And the worst part was that you knew what he was capable of. Vox then grinned again and said "now follow me to your new home" you were shocked all you could say was "w-wha" your mind was racing "what does he mean by new home" was all you could think of.He stood up and walked out of the office. He stopped at the door, but without looking back he motioned for you to follow him. You get up out of fear and leave the office, following him. He leads you down the hallway, which seems to take an eternity. Your whole life flashed before your eyes. What did he mean by "new home"? It couldn't mean what you thought it meant. Finally, he comes to the last door at the end of the hallway that leads into his penthouse . He opens it and motions for you to enter. You slowly step into the room, and your body went pale as the door shut behind you and locked automatically. You turned around to look for Vox, and what you saw made your heart start to pound in terror. Vox grabbed something that looked like a metal collar and approached you.

You were to scared to speak just staring frozen in fear you body wanted to move to run to flea but you just could not."This won't hurt. Just don't move too much." vox said sickeningly calm. A cold feeling spread through you as he secured it tightly around your neck. There seemed to be no escape. "please let me go I'm sorry" you blubbered. "You really think I'd just let you go after all this trouble you've caused?" He moved closer to your face, and you could feel him breathing down your neck. "You know...I think you're going to need some more training." a chill went down your spine when he said that vox then giggled and said "you were always a sweetie y'know that right but I couldn't take ya in because it would affect my imigine but now since you messed up people will just think I killed you" He strokes your hair lovingly, showing his caring side as he leans down closer."Your mine now sweetie" you couldn't hold it back anymore you just started sobbing

Vox pulls you into his arms and holds you close, comforting you with his gentle touch. "Shh...don't cry. Don't cry. I'm not going to hurt you." He pulls you close and strokes your hair, soothing you. His embrace was warm and comforting, unlike before. This was a completely different side of him. Vox strokes your hair and caresses your cheeks as you cry softly in his arms. “Don't be scared. You're safe with me…” vox said in a gentle tone He looks down at you, and his expression softens as you continue to cry. All your fears and stress seem to melt away under his touch. as you look up at him into those eyes. he smiles at you, holding you close. You can feel his chest rise and fall with each breath. "... You'll be fine... I'll take good care of you..." vox said kindly

Looking into that Spinning little right eye of his made you calm down somehow. He keeps you close and strokes your hair, soothing your worries. His touch is warm and comforting, unlike the coldness you were used to. It felt nice to be held like this, to be held close and be cared for. You hadn't felt this safe in a long time. "... There... There, hush... Don't cry...** It wasn't like the Vox from the office. The Vox who yelled at you and made you fear for your job. This one was gentle and comforting. The contrast couldn't be larger... Vox was against hypnotizing you to love him he was only doing this to make you calm down for him it felt like cheating if he just hypnotized you to love him

"c-can I go home now" you said softly he laughed and said "this is your home silly " you got scared and tried to run to the exit but then the collar on your neck beeped before a wave of electric shock came apon you frying your whole body you squeal in pain. "Aww sweetie did that hurt? " vox said that in a playful tone as if it were a joke. "It was just a little shock " he continues to stroke your hair while giggling as you're still in pain from the electric shock a bit of red drool on his face "You see, sweetie, this collar is to ensure that you obey my commands and never try to run away again." he said sternly "o-o-ok" you said inbetween wincing in pain Vox then smiles at you reassuringly. "Good girl..." he says He then lifts your chin up and looks you in the eyes. "...Don't worry. You're safe in my care now..." he said in a cruel tone

He keeps caressing your hair as you continue to sit there in silence, too terrified to move or breathe."...you shouldn't be so scared you little muffin..." vox teased He then starts to gently kiss you on the cheek "s-stop " you say softly He chuckles in reaction to your answer. "I'm just showing my affection... There's nothing wrong with a few kisses, right..." he said in a firm manner He continues to kiss your cheek as you squirm while holding you close and stroking your hair in a reassuring way. He starts to gently kiss your chin until the kisses get closer and closer to your lips you try to pull away The collar starts to vibrate and beep again, signaling that another shock would be administered if you continued to try and pull away you whimper at the realization that your just gonna have to let this happen Vox's tone then shifts back to a menacing one. "Didn't I tell you? This collar is here to make sure that you obey my command. Now stop fighting me... It will only make it worse for you." You could only tremble in fear as he said that He leans in even closer and presses his lips against yours you winced and softly cried "Just relax..." vox said aroused he continues to kiss you passionately, his hand moving to your waist as he pulls you closer you can feel vox's Raging Boner pressing up against your chest through his suit but he doesn't mention anything about it but he knows He holds you close and his grip around your waist tightens as he kisses you more and more passionately you cant handle it anymore and you try to take off your collar but when you try to do so, the collar started to beep and vibrate. Your body started shaking from the intense pain of the electric shocks shooting through your body. vox giggled and said "See how silly that was? This collar is here to keep you from doing anything stupid. It isn't coming off..." He then started to kiss your neck and the top of your chest. causing you to keep struggling Vox then grabs your hands and pins them to your side. "Please, darling, don't struggle. I don't want to hurt you... but you're really making it difficult to resist." He continued to kiss you on the neck and chest. as you whimpered Each kiss was more passionate than before, getting closer and closer to your collarbone. his slick Blue tounge rubbing around your mouth as you helplessy watched you were just so... powerless "Just relax, my dear I'm almost done" vox said giving you a small amount of hope The kisses slowly get even closer to your chest, and soon his lips land on your collarbone.

Vox then moves his other hand to under your chin and uses it to gently guide your head upwards so that you're looking at him.His eyes are filled with desire as he looks at you, a small smirk appears on his face. The contrast between his gentle, caring side and his cruel side is jarring to see.He then moves his lips away from your collarbone and kisses your cheek. "Just a bit more, and I'll be done. just relax and stay still." your body is screaming at you to wriggle to attack but you know you will get shocked if you do. He slowly moves his lips back to your collarbone. The kisses become even more intense than before, and his hands start to wander to more "special" areas of your body. He starts to lightly trace your curves with one hand while your other hand trails up your waist. "... Such a delicate and beautiful creature..." he says while you whimper His body starts to press against yours, and the kisses on your chest begin to turn to kisses on your neck. He leans in even closer, and the kisses on your neck start to inch their way up to your mouth. almost like a fucked up caterpillar of kisses "Just relax..." vox said in a hypnotic voice He finally reaches your lips, and he begins to put all his passion into the final kiss.

"that was great" vox moaned "You were the best..." he said into your ear He pulled you into a passionate embrace, his arms around you. His breath was shaky, and he was clearly excited about the kisses he just gave you. He continues holding you close, caressing your cheek and neck as he breathes heavily. as you were left a whimpering puddle Vox's chest was heaving, and his breath was heavy and quick. He continued caressing and kissing your neck, not allowing you to move away "Just lay here with me, darling... I never want to let you go." he said as you whimpered. Vox started to cuddle you, gently stroking your hair while holding you in his arms. "Just relax... Everything will be fine..." he said in that same hypnotic voice making your whole body tingle He keeps holding you, stroking your hair and caressing your cheek. The collar around your neck beeped a few times as if trying to remind you of its presence.

"Don't worry about this little thing..." He chuckles as he plays with the collar around your neck. "It's just to help me.... take better care of you. That's all..." he said in his gentle coo. "Just lay with me for now." he cooed He continues to hold you close, wrapping his body around yours and snuggling you into his chest. He strokes your hair and caresses your cheek again, but soon his hand moves to lower areas of your body. "s-stop" you quietly whimperd. Vox just ignored you and continued, making his hand continue to move up and down your body.

He kept his hands there, moving it around slowly as he looked at you with a smug look "Relax... Just let me do want I want to do..." he said then activating his hypnotic eye vox laughed and said "Good... now You cant resist even if you wanted to..." His hand continues to move across your body, and eventually reaches under your shirt as well. He starts to rub his hand over your chest, enjoying his power over you in this moment. "just go to sleep" vox cooed His words made you fall deeper into your trance, slowly falling asleep like he ordered you to do. Your mind was filled with his voice, and soon your thoughts began to get foggy. You felt yourself slowly drifting off. As you slowly fell asleep under his power, you could feel his warmth around you as he held you closely. As your body fell more and more into the trance, your eyes slowly fluttered shut and you fell into a deep sleep, your mind under his influence.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #yandere #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox x reader #yandere male #yandere boy #helluva boss #yandere vox #yandere hazbin hotel #writing #dark romance

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starzioo · 2 months

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𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐒. 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐓.

So I’m going to preface this by giving you literally the biggest angst warning that you could ever possibly have. I’ve been having a bad writers block and angst is literally the only thing I can write rn idk why. Even though I lowkey teared up while reading over this I hope you like it as much as I do lol.

5.1K WORDS

WARNINGS: HEAVY ANGST, CHARACTER DEATH, BLOOD.

Play this when you see the ♫ symbol.

You've never given much thought to how you would die. But dying in the place of someone else sounded pretty good.

You're sprinting down the corridors of Hogwarts, making any turn you could take that would maybe lead you to help. Your lungs felt tight, your air ways were burning. With spells being casted at you barely missing you by a hair each time. You fired back, but missed. The black haired woman running after you letting out vicious cackles with each spell. Your legs were becoming sore from the dodging and running, you wanted to just let your legs give out and let her take you life. This was torture. Running from your own mother. You had betrayed the Dark Lord, and now you had to pay the consequences.

Over the precious summer you had received your dark mark. You had been avoiding it. Your mother, Bellatrix Lestranged was locked up in Azkaban, or so you thought. Until the day you and Draco had returned to Malfoy manor from Hogwarts hoping to have a good summer. The second you and Draco had gotten out of the car Narcissa had you and him in a hug. A distraught look on her face. "The dark lord is here..." She said looking at the ground. You and Draco's once content faces now covered in confusion and worry, you share glances. "He would like to see you both." She took you and Draco by your hands, gently guiding you to the front doors of the manor. You all walk in frigid silence to the entrance of the study. Your breath had become shallow. You still hadn't seen him but you could feel his presence in the home. Narcissa gave your hands a light squeeze before the doors to the study opened. The Dark Lords disciple ushering you two in, leaving Narcissa in the hallway.

You and Draco stand in the middle of the study, hand in hand. Neither of you dared to say a word. You were looking at the ground, hoping for all of this to be a nightmare. Wanting this to just all go away with a blink of the eye. "My my, Y/n...my blood certainly does live within you." Bellatrix says stepping up to you dragging her wand down your jawline, practically forcing you to look at you. Your breath halts at the touch of her wand. Your eyes meet hers. You didn't dare to utter a word. Draco squeezes your hand. "As so does mine..." The Dark Lord says finally turning around in his chair. Your eyes immediately go back to the ground. "That is why you are both here today. As of today you will be my disciples. My spy's." His breathy dried voice says as he fiddles with his wand. Suddenly Bellatrix roughly grabs your arm and drags you infront of the Dark Lord. Your breath is still. You knew what was about to happen. There was no way you could've possibly prepared for this. There was no way you could've ever denied it. You turn your head to look at Draco who stands still, his eyes were glazed with tears looking back at you. Bellatrix grabs the hem of your sleeve and pulls it up to your elbow. Ripping your attention off Draco back to the lizard like man(?) sitting infront of you.

Without saying a word his wand presses deep into your arm. Within an instant you feel a burning sensation all down your arm. It was enough to make you drop to your knees. Tears started to flow down your face. Your face scrunched at the pain that was being inflicted on you. You tried to pull away out of the grasp of your mother. Only for her to pull harder and squeeze your wrist to the point of bruising. "Please! Let me go!" You cried. "Shut it!" Bellatrix yells cruelly. The sensation that ran through your arm felt like wildfire, as if your blood was poison, disintegrating your veins as it flowed. You let out a scream as the infliction was now at its peak. "Please! Make it stop!" You screamed trying to escape the woman's grasp, only to receive a forceful yank. Your screams filled the room until the pain finally subsided. Leaving your arm feeling as if you had been electrocuted.

Your eyes finally open, with tears streaming you look down at your arm. A sight you never wanted to see, the dark mark laid deep within your skin like a tattoo. Your breath was heavy, you turn to look at Draco, his eyes icy eyes now filled with fear. Bellatrix forces you to stand up so she can examine your arm. "Never refuse the Dark Lord like that again!" She yells into your face. "I'm sorry my lord." You say shakily, not daring to look him in his eyes. "You may go now." He says waving his hand. A strong man grabs you by your arm and takes out of the room shoving you into the hallway. A worried ridden Narcissa practically runs to you and embraces you. Her warm motherly hug induced the tears to flow out of your eyes again. Although Narcissa wasn't your biological mother she was more of a mother Bellatrix could've ever been. She cared for you like her own. You lean into her arms holding your now tattooed arm close to your chest. 'Shhhshhh.' She lightly lets out as you cry softly into her chest. Not a moment later you both hear Draco's cries from the study. You both freeze at the sound. You just tuck your head into Narcissa.

After you had both gotten your dark marks more and more death eaters seemed to fill the house. The fun filled summer that you had dreamed of was now a nightmare. A dark aroma had filled the house. You stayed in your room unless told to come out. The house elves bringing you dinner and always bringing you your mail. The death eaters that filled your home had made you uncomfortable and uneasy. The place you once felt most content and safe was now degraded to the house you merely slept in. Over the summer you and Draco had spent a lot of time together inside your rooms. Bonding over the trauma. You thought of Draco as a brother, and he thought of you as his sister. You two were close, growing up you were the only ones there for each other. And it had been that way until a charming Theodore Nott had gotten close with Draco. Draco had always had his group of friends at Hogwarts but he was different. As he and Draco grew closer he became more friendly to you. He was quite charming and flirty towards you but that's just the way he was. You thought he was like that with everyone till one night when you and Draco were in the common room reading he pointed out that Theo only acted like that towards you. That was in fourth year. After that you had started noticing all the little things he did for you. Walking you to class, carrying your books, plating food for you at dinner. All the little things you never noticed were now seen very clear. You and Theo had grown close as friends seeming to always be together. Over that summer you had wrote each other and at one point he had even asked you to travel to Rome with him. Of course you agreed. On that trip you had shared your first kiss, and since then you had been dating. 'Puppy love' Lucius called it, but you knew it was real.

The feelings that you and Theo shared with each other went way deeper and beyond than what anyone could see. What you two had was something only seen in movies. The unconditional and genuine connection between you two was something many people can only wish for. Time seemed to fly by with him, what felt like minutes would be hours. Just having him by your side was enough for you. Whether it was as a friend or boyfriend. You knew it was nothing short of real. You and Theo both yearned for nothing more than to spend every waking moment together. Never getting tired of each other.

You were now going into your sixth year at Hogwarts although surrounded by people that loved you, you've never felt more alone. Ever since being ridden with the dark mark you and Draco had secluded yourselves from the group. Even Theo. He knew about your new allegiance to the Dark Lord but what he didn't know was that you and Draco had received tasks to complete. While Draco had to fix a vanishing cabinet, you had to place Madam Rosmerta under the Imperius curse. You would then instruct her to place a girl, Katie Bell, under the Imperius curse aswell. Madam Rosmerta would then instruct Katie to take the Opal Necklace to Dumbledore. You knew Katie, she was a sweet Gryffindor she was quite smart and quite on her feet. She played quidditch, and she was in multiple of your classes all throughout your years at Hogwarts. Knowing that you would have to curse her made your heart ache. You never were actually friends with Katie but the gut wrenching thought of cursing her had made you nauseous.You've never used an unforgivable before. Never once. Nor had you ever thought about it. Seeing that Draco was having troubles with the vanishing cabinet you decided to postpone your task for as long as possible.

Your task was all that had been on your mind. The mere thought of doing such a cruel thing had been toying with your mind. If anyone found out how could anyone forgive you? Madam Rosmerta was a mother, she was a figure of welcome to Hogsmeade. Katie was someone's daughter, someone's sister. You can't imagine someone doing such a thing to Narcissa or Draco, so how could you? Those thoughts crowded your mind until the day came that Draco told you he had fixed the cabinet. Those words came crashing down on you like bricks. You knew it was time.

You had snuck into The Three Broomsticks through the back door. You waited until the absolute perfect time when Madam Rosmerta was in the back room grabbing something. You were tucked behind the door with your wand shaking in your hand. "Imperio" you uttered. Madam Rosmerta seemed to pause. Her body was still for a moment, she seemed robotic in a way. She turned around to see you. "Act as you would normally. Pretend you never saw me. Place this is the girls restroom for Katie Bell to find. Place Katie Bell underneath the Imperius curse and instruct her to take the box to Dumbledore. She will act as normal." You whisper looking into the woman's eyes. You hand her a box that was wrapped in a cover. "You will not open the box at any given moment." All she does is nod with her usual warm smile. You had been rehearsing those words for weeks. You swiftly made your way out of the back door. It was done. Your task had been completed. You back up into the cobblestone wall behind you. That same nauseating feeling came back. You couldn't believe what you had just done. Your task was supposed to be the very task that would lead to Dumbledores demise. You felt as if someone had knocked the breath out of you. No amount of words could describe the guilt that you felt at that moment.

You ran back to the castle to inform Draco that your task was done. Once you had got there you practically bursted into Draco's dorm. Your eyes were swelled with tears. He immediately stood from his chair with worry. "I-Draco. I did it." Your voice was small and shaky. He engulfed you in a hug. Draco was rarely ever seen hugging other people or showing any form of affection but with you it was different. He cared for you as if you were his little sister. You sunk into his comfort. "It had to be done Y/n..." he says as he tries to calm you. Your hands your covering your face you tucked into Draco. "What had to be done?" A familiar deep voice said from the doorway. You immediately turn around to see Theo standing with a worried expression. Your eyes were filled with tears and your face was blotched pink. Draco rests a reassuring hand on your arm, "It's nothing Nott." He says shortly. "No, It's not just nothing Draco. Y/n, what's wrong?" He says as he finally comes into the dorm room to talk to you. "Theo it doesn't concern you..." Draco says once again speaking for you.

Your eyes were trained on the ground, you couldn't bare to look Theo in the eyes after what you had done. "It concerns me if Y/n is standing here crying and not speaking! She's obviously shaken up." He says lightly raising his voice at Draco. "Y/n, talk to me, what's wrong?" Theo says gently grabbing your hands. His eyes glancing all around your face trying to read the situation. You knew you couldn't tell him. Even though Theo's father was a death eater the Dark Lord made it very clear that no one could know about you and Draco's tasks. You didn't even know how Theo would react to the fact that you had not only Imperiused one but two people. Your breath was trembling and so were your hands. Your eyes were looking everywhere else but at Theo, his eyes were doing the very opposite. "I-" You were about to speak but the words were caught on your tongue. No matter how badly you wanted to tell Theo you knew you couldn't. Telling him would only put him in danger. "I can't tell you...I'm sorry.." You say taking your hands out of Theo's grasp and quickly walking out of Draco's dorm.

You practically ran back down the halls to get to your dorm. Theo followed quickly behind. You had barely gotten into your dorm with Theo just seconds late. You closed the door quickly. You couldn't face him. The guilt you bared was too much. He banged on the door. "Y/n! Please just talk to me baby, I'm worried." He yelled from the other side. Your back faced the door and you slid down it. "Theo just go away." You said trying to fight off the burning sensation in your throat. "Y/n I'm not leaving till you talk to me. We've barely spoken in weeks. Please baby I'll fix whatever I did." He said pleadingly. "Theo it's not you. I just. It's just something I can't talk to you about, okay? It's for your own good that you stay as far away from this as possible." You cried. A sudden silence comes from Theo's side. "Is this about him?" His voice now serious. You immediately knew who Theo meant by 'him'. You stayed silent, you buried your face into your hands. "Y/n...Whatever this is. I need to know. Please just talk to me." He says trying the doorknob one more time. You take a deep breath and stand up.

You slowly open the door, Theo comes in and wraps his arms around your waist placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Now tell me what's wrong." He said walking to your bed and sitting down. You close the door and sit next to him. "Theo I can't tell you...I swore..." You voice breaks. His hand lays on your knee. "Y/n I already told you that I'm not leaving with you telling me." He says bluntly. "Theo I can't...you don't understand. I wish I could! I-" You instantly get cut off when Pansy enters your room.

"Y/n, you'll never guess what just happened to Katie Bell!" Pansy says frantically as she walks in. You froze. Your face completely drops hearing her name. What happened? What could've went wrong? Did she touch the necklace? Did it ever get to Dumbledore? Your mind is flooded as you just stare into nothing. Tears streaming down your face. "I-I-" Pansy just stands at the door utterly confused on the sight infront of her. "Pansy...You should go..." Theo says walking up to the door and slightly guides her out. "Y/n. Does this have to do with Katie?" Your eyes shot from where they were up to him. Hearing her name made you feel disgusted with yourself. Your mouth just fell agape trying to form words. "What happened to Katie?" "I...I don't know." Nothing should've happened to Katie. She should've just delivered the necklace to Dumbledore and that should've been it. If something happened to Katie then that meant your task wasn't fulfilled. "My task." You whisper, thinking aloud. "What task, Y/n? What did he tell you to do?!" He finally sits back down next to you. "He...I..I had to Imperio Madam Rosmerta and Katie..." You whisper. He fell silent. "What..." "Nothing was supposed to happen to Katie! I swear! I don't know what happened! I- She was supposed to give the necklace to Dumbledore!" Your head falls into your hands. "Y/n...are you talking about the opal necklace?" You just leaned into him hugging him, he reciprocated. "Y/n I need you to calm down so you can tell me what exactly happened." He says softly.

After about 10 minutes you had finally calmed down. Over those ten minutes you still hadn't fully built up the confidence to tell Theo exactly what you did. It didn't matter regardless because he was patient with you. Ofcourse he ended up comforting you, telling you there was no other choice. It was either you or her. You still hadn't figured out that Katie had been taken to St. Mungos. So the overwhelming guilt still hung over your head taunting you. Theo stayed with you for the rest of the day. You were filled with worry. Your task wasn't complete. But that wasn't the reason you were in the predicament you were in.

"Luna!" You shouted as you saw her fighting off two Death Eaters. Many people didn't like Luna because they thought she was weird and quite out of it. But you saw past that. She had such a kind soul. She was that one person that you knew would never judge you for anything. You two were friends you couldn't just stand back and let her die. "Expelliarmus!" You knocked one of the Death Eaters wands out of their hand. He immediately turned around. "Levioso!" You had picks up the man and slammed him into the wall. He was knocked out. You immediately run to Luna who was still fighting the Death Eater. He was firing unforgivable curses at her like it was nothing. "Bombarda!" The man was bombarded into the stone wall. "Luna are you okay?" You rushed to her. "Yes, I'm quite fine actually. Thank you." She said with her usual contentment but slightly out of breath. "Cmon we gotta go before they wake up." Although the men were knocked out it wouldn't be long before someone found them and woke them up. You and Luna run down the corridors trying to find someone to group with. That's when you saw it. Bellatrix was practically terrorizing a group of younger students who were hiding. She was yelling at them firing spells trying to get them to tell her where Harry Potter was. Why would they know? She knew they didn't know. She just wanted to traumatize as many students as she could. You weren't thinking. These were just kids? "Expelliarmus!" You casted at Bellatrix. She spun around like a mad woman. When she saw you with Luna behind you her face told you everything you needed to know. She was going to kill you.

You fired a couple offensive spells at her before taking off running. You were trying to lead her as far away from the 1st and 2nd years as possible. You left Luna with the kids, you knew they were in good hands.

All while you were running for your life Theo was running to find you. You had left him to go find Draco but obviously that never happened. He had got to Draco but now he needed to find you. You were his only concern. "Y/n!" He shouted as he looked for you.

"Y/n! You little slimy brat! You're a disgrace to the bloodline!" She yelled. "CRUCIO!" That's when it hit you. Your now limp body fell to the ground. Within a second every single nerve in your body was being tortured. Knives were being pierced into every inch of your skin. A blood curdling scream being let out from your throat. You felt fire in your veins. The woman cackled at the sight. You've never felt such pain in your life. "Please! Stop!" Your voice cracking. Your face contorted with the pain. The torturous stabbing didn't stop. You were loosing your breath. The white hot knives consumed every cell in your body. Your screams echoed and bounced off the walls of the corridor. She kneeled down next to your face. "It's what you deserve." She spat and stood. "Sectumsempra!" The woman yelled as she slashed her wand at you. The piercing stopped but was replaced with what felt like millions of tiny knives cutting into your skin. This time you actually bled.

Your screams continued as the woman looked down at you grimacing. You wanted to grab your wand and kill the woman. Your wand laid multiple feet from you, no matter how much you wanted to grab it you couldn't. Your body was limp as if someone tranquilized you. The woman smiled at you and began to walk away. "You were never a mother to me. You're gonna die today and after that you're going to rot." You managed to let out. She turned on her heels. "Oh no dear...only one of us is going to die today, and it's not gonna be me." She laughed. The echoes of someone calling your name had caught your attention. You saw him come around the corner, but only for a second before you blacked out.

♫

"Y/n, Y/n, baby, please, please, please. Wake up." A small shaky voice above you said. You felt tears dropping onto your face. Your eyes waveringly opened. Your vision was blurry, unable to focus. Your entirely limp body was in the hands of Theo. One of his arms around your back, his other hand was on your face. Draco stood behind him. His face covered in grief. You could've sworn this was a hallucination. Your hand lifted off the ground to touch his face. The connection made it real. You couldn't feel your body. Theo's eyes were glazing and an indescribable look rested deep within. "Y/n..." His shaky voice was laced with relief. Your eyes wondered down to your own body.

The once unstained white cotton shirt that fitted your body was washed red. A pool of wine colored liquid flooded the cold stone ground beneath you. You were choking on the air that filled your lungs. "Th..Theo" Your eyes let down a stream. "Please make it stop." Your voice croaked. An overwhelming amount of fear washed over your body. You've never thought about how you would die. You always thought after Hogwarts you would go on to bigger things with Theo. You always imagined getting married being a classic bride. A big white lacy dress with flowers and a veil. Walking down the aisle watching Theo shed a few tears with Lucius walking you down the aisle. After that you would've moved into Nott Manor. A few years later you would bare children. Every night you would tuck them in and read them stories. You would watch your kids grow up and one day send them off to Hogwarts to carry on the legacy. Watching them grow and prosper as young witches and wizards. After they run off and get married you and Theo would've moved to Italy together. To a home that overlooked the ocean side. Having a candlelit dinner together every night. You two would've grown old together in peace. Every dream of yours was now ripped away out of your grasp by no other than your own mother.

You had just been staring up at Theo. Your ears finally stopped ringing and you got pulled back into reality. He was now fully crying over you. You looked past Theo to see Draco who was sitting on the ground leaning his head against the wall. His once pale skin was now covered in blotches of red. His white button down was covered in your blood. "Draco..." Your small breathy voice whispered. All of his attention immediately went to you. Within a second he was beside Theo looking down at you. Cold tears that covered their eyes dripping down on to you. "Y/n don't go, please. You're the only sister i've ever had. Please" His voice sounded shattered. He held your hand tightly as if you were hanging on a cliff, his grasp being the only thing keeping you from falling. "I...I love you both, more than anything. Please don't ever forget that." You were slowly losing your breath. Your body held onto whatever air you could let it.

You were beginning to feel that cold sensation that everyone always talked about feeling before dying. Cloudiness filled your head you couldn't even form a coherent thought. Your eyes fluttered up at the both of them. "I love you both more than you would ever know." You felt your body getting weaker by the second. The pool beneath you only growing. You felt a liquid creep up your throat. You tasted the metallic. You wanted to speak. You wanted to tell them how much you loved them, and how you never wanted for this to happen. You wanted to take all your wrongs back. At first it came thick the metal tasting liquid swirled your tongue. Your breath was completely lost. No matter how hard your lungs fought for air the liquid just continued to fill them. The blood trickled down your lips. You took your last jagged breath. Draco’s grip on your hand tightened at the sight. Theo tucked his lips between his teeth. Your vision went completely blurry before going black. The hand that was being held by Draco going lifeless. Your life had slipped away from their grasp. “Y/n….” Theo’s voice croaked. His hand brushed through your hair. He knew it was coming and that it was inevitable. By the time they got to you there was no way to reverse it.

Your eyes that once held a sparkling looking now faded and blank. He sobbed as he watched the light fade away from your eyes. Your fragile cold body laid in his arms. He rested his head down onto your blood ridden chest. His mind was flooded with the soft memories of you. He couldn’t stand the thought of having to live the rest of his life without you. His mind recalled every second he spent with you. All the regrets he had filled his body. All the times he got mad at you or shunned you after a fight. All he wanted to do was to take those things back. He wanted to apologize and plead for your forgiveness. He wanted to tell you he loved you more than the world. He had told you that he would protect you with his life. He had failed. His body yearned for your warm touch, your smile, your soft voice that always told him how loved he was. After all the grief of losing his mother you were his cure. You were his escape from all the pain. The countless nights he cried into your chest, just as he did now. Except this time you weren’t hugging him. Or telling him that it’s okay. This time you couldn’t usher him with your soft words. He sobbed uncontrollably into your cold chest. No matter how much he wanted to stop he couldn’t.

Draco stared down at your cold eyes with an unseeing gaze. His hand still held your unresponsive one. You were his sister unbiological or not. All the anguish you experienced together is was held you two together. You were what helped him keep going all throughout his trauma. The loss of you played with his heart. His soul felt an immense lonely feeling. He lost himself along with you. You were his light in the darkness. You weren’t blood but your unwavering love and loyalty to him is what made you family. He closed his eyes as hard as he could hoping to wake up. Hoping to wake up in his bed to forget this. Wishing it was all just a cruel nightmare. So he could go walk to your dorm and give you a hug. He wanted nothing more than to speak to you one last time. To joke around and laugh together again. To sit in the common room and read together. To listen to you talk and ramble on about your date with Theo and how it went. The loss of you to him was losing a piece of his own life.

You had slipped away and took a piece of their souls with you.

==============

Hope you liked this piece. <3

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transmascaraa · 20 days

Note

Reader has a secret hobby they do that they never told the sillies about, and the sillies find out

(example - reader being a singer, making songs, playing music, dancing, cosplaying, doing shows etc etc)

multiple characters headcannons!

they weren't supposed to know...

characters: lyney, gaming, xiao x gn!reader

author's note: nuh uh the draft didn't get saved where i was halfway through xiao smh enjoy this version where it's a bit shorter😭 i did cosplaying btw

✯ Lyney

-most surprisingly due to how fucking clingy he is, he would probably get to know but only after a couple of months.

-you would accidentally post your cosplay video on your PUBLIC acc and not your private one.

-he gets a notif almost immediately and he's already opening the app

-mouth wide open. pure shock in a good way.

-get ready for his teasing to get AT LEAST four times more often.

-he would probably ask you to cosplay him or lynette if you haven't already.

-he'll ask you to match cosplays but like huskerdust typa stuff(or fyolai whichever you prefer cuz he'll do anything for you)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✧ Gaming

-it wouldn't take too long for him to find out tbh

-he would walk in on you while you were cosplaying him and his lion dance

-walking into the room and then his mouth being open in a second.

-in utter shock. /pos

-then the two of you would just basically awkwardly stare at eachother's blushing faces for a while

-until he breaks the awkwardness by saying something like "that. was. AMAZING."

-he'll praise you a lot, saying that you do the impression of him literally perfectly.

-he'll match with you if you want to definitely!

-and you'll get famous on social media because of him(i literally got "famous" because of him)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

☆ Xiao

-it would take a while for him to find out

-but he'll eventually walk in on you cosplaying hu tao/zhongli whoever you prefer

-he'll just stand there with his eyes wide open

-and you'll try not to be too awkward and tru to explain to him what "cosplay" is in the first place

-he literally won't get the point of it even if you explain it to him but okay

-he values your hard work and all so he'd probably call you a professional at one point

-WON'T match with you because he find it dumb(he literally will you just have to look at him)

-and he gets used to it after a while so yk even if he finds it weird af he would still support you

-loves it when you make him match with you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

yes

i like it

it's only a tiny bit shorter tbh but it's nice like this too

| @keeyisbored | @mariaace <3

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #gaming x reader #gaming x you #lyney x reader #lyney x you #xiao x reader #xiao x you #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #idk from now on i'm gonna write xiao more often #he's interesting to write #i've said that for about like 3 chars now idc

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hp-hcs · 6 months

Note

Um, yeah, I don't really have a specific character in mind (so you can ignore this if u want to!), but how would some characters react to a male reader who listens to muggle music, but like- metal?? yk

this is the kind of shit i wanna see in my inbox hell fucking yeah

❕i’ll be honest, my vibe has always been more punk/pop punk/metalcore/hard rock 🤷‍♂️ i did my best buttttt these are all just songs from my playlist so- (i adore my slytherin babygirls but they’ll always be second to my lord and savior glenn danzig)❕

also accidentally wrote gn reader again so that’s pretty girlypop

requests open

i’ve never actually written one of these like, group headcanons for a whole bunch of people, but i keep seeing other people doing it so we’re trying it out ig. do we like it? yes? no?

slytherin boys: gn! muggleborn! reader’s music taste is rather…unexpected

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

mattheo: die, die my darling — misfits

i’m of the opinion that mattheo would fucking LOVE the misfits (once you introduce him)

he walks into your dorm to ask you a quick question, and you’re just dancing around in your room screaming the lyrics to:

“DIE DIE DIE MY DARLING, DONT UTTER A SINGLE WORD”

“DIE DIE, DIE MY DARLING, JUST SHUT YOUR PRETTY MOUTH”

he’s like 🧍‍♂️😦😍

and that’s when he falls in love with you

jk, unless????

you show him the misfits’ entire discography, and bitch about jerry only (as u should)

he takes a bit too much of a liking to helena 🤨

yk, the song that goes “if i cut off your arms, and i cut off your legs, would you still love me, anyway? if you’re bound and you’re gagged, draped and displayed, would you still love me, anyway?”

🤨🤨🤨

interesting, mattheo. interesting. not concerning in the slightest.

he adores them and you guys listen to their music together when you study <33

y’all start running around screaming I AINT NO GODDAMN SON OF A BITCH

your teachers love it <3

theodore: nazi punks fuck off — dead kennedys

y’all were showering together

(is that really like a sexy thing? i sure as fuck don’t know 🖤🩶🤍💜)

you started singing to yourself and babygirl was like 😳☺️

he loves ur voice <3

even when you’re singing “nazi punks, nazi punks, nazi punks FUCK OFF”

(cause like……yk…….he’s a wizard nazi himself 😬👍)

awkwarddddd

he always lets you put on your music

to be honest, he doesn’t really care about the lyrics, he just loves that you love it

(*cough* simp *cough*)

draco: possessed by satan — gorgoroth

you’d just come back from winter break and had brought one of your holiday presents back with you: a new record player and a shitload of vinyls

you set it up in your dorm and asked your roomie, draco, if he’d mind if you played something

he'd never admit it, but he was wildly curious what muggle music sounded like

so of course, you blessed him with the sweet sweet sounds of gorgoroth 😌🥰

(aww, nostalgia <3)

he just looked at you like 😨

you then proceeded to educate him on gaahl beating the shit out of someone (a l l e g e d l y) and threatening to drink his blood

he’s now even more concerned

(do you or do you not tell him about the gogoroth concert ft. alive ‘crucified’ actors & impaled sheep heads vs. the country of poland?)

((idk babe that’s for you to decide))

blaise: boogie woogie wu — insane clown posse

i feel like blaise is chill enough to give any music a shot before deciding if he likes it or not

you weren’t that close, just acquaintances, but one day you just offered up your other headphone to him in the middle of a really boring class

oh, he’s in love

🎵😍😍🎶

you make him a playlist of songs you think he’d love, and he lowkey almost starts crying and that’s how he asks you out on your first date

(is it terrible to think that this might be your wedding’s first dance song?)

((NOW MURDERRRR))

(((UH OH, HERE COME THE PO-PO TOO MUCH MURDER)))

enzo: custer — slipknot

it’s your ringtone for someone 😌

like ur mom, or something? idfk

“incoming call from: birthgiver” 🎵CUT CUT CUT ME UP AND FUCK FUCK FUCK ME UP🎶

enz:🧍‍♂️

he doesn’t even know how to react

he’s only a bit terrified

he’ll listen to a few other songs you play for him, but will make you play the weird sisters afterwards

tom: reincarnate — motionless in white

he’s bitching about how much muggles suck and muggle music is trash blah blah blah

and ur like “oh really? wanna bet?”

you whip out your phone and start blasting your playlist

he would absolutely eat that shit up

it’s cheaper than therapy ig 🤷‍♂️

he hates being wrong about anything ever so he’ll never admit out loud that he likes it, but he will just show up at your dorm at like eleven pm like:

“do you have any more uh……song recommendations or something…..uhhhh” 🧍‍♂️

babygirl 💞

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harmonysanreads · 10 months

Note

i keep on thinking about yan!neuvillette lately ever since i saw those posts you reblogged 😭🙏

yan!neuvillette who has you arrested and tried in fontaine’s supreme court. having secretly worked with the prosecutors to make sure that the odds are against you, he rules that you are guilty of a crime which you, in reality, didn’t commit — but the evidence was stacked against you, and the defence certainly had no chance in winning the trial.

after all, neuvillette was the chief justice of the supreme court. the highest position one could have in this nation, second only to the hydro archon herself. who wouldn’t trust his judgement, especially when it appeared that you truly were guilty of the crimes you were accused of?

yan!neuvillette, expected by society to uphold the law and help maintain peace and order within the nation as their reliable chief justice, but neuvillette knew how to keep his position and reputation secure while using his vast knowledge of all the ins and outs of the laws, and what loopholes there are and aren’t in order to bend things to his will — namely, your circumstances. nobody knew fontaine’s legal system better than he did; and you’re the only thing he’d bend the rules for.

the majestic ornate walls of gold within the opera epiclese have never felt so suffocating before.

and, as she always did with every trial, the hydro archon oversaw yours; but it appeared that all she cared for was excitement, seeking thrills and theatrical twists that belonged to the stage. it was made clear rather quickly that the last thing she would do was interfere with neuvillette’s verdict, evidently having long lost her interest in your case.

there’s nothing else to turn to. no one else to turn to. neuvillette had the highest form of authority that a citizen of the land of justice could hold, so even if you were highly dissatisfied with the result of your trial, there was no higher court you could appeal to. the decision of the supreme court was final.

yan!neuvillette who even gave periodical visits to you down in the prisons, much to your surprise and apparent confusion — you would’ve thought that any business with this man was over the moment the gavel was struck and the court adjourned. but whatever matters a man as important as neuvillette had to tend to in the prison, he certainly spent a good portion of that time speaking to you. even the prison guards were momentarily dismissed while he stood before the bars of your cell to hold brief talks with you.

yan!neuvillette who one day quite nonchalantly revealed that he was actually fully aware of your innocence during the trial.

does he truly hold the right to judge the crimes of others if he, too, is guilty of committing such injustices behind the scenes?

the sudden spark of realisation and anger in your eyes, that shift in expression that was a fire that burned so strongly, caused the slightest change in his otherwise neutral conduct. it’s something that made you so interesting to him. however, venomous insults began to spill out of your lips, ruining that momentary image. you should remember your current circumstances, he reminded you. you were in no position to be uttering such expletives towards him, of all people. and to think he was about to offer you a way out, a way to clear your name, perhaps..

but you only deserve such a mercy if you hold your tongue and cooperate with him.

the conversation continued no further that day — he walked off without another word, leaving you to your own thoughts.

- 🕯️

Mmmmmm, delectable as always nonnie! I love how we all agree that Yandere!Neuvillette is so unfair in all the ironic ways. Not only are you unable to oppose his unjust verdicts but also you cannot reason with his logic. Since we're still yet to see more of him, you know what would make him absolutely terrifying? If he had not even a shred of guilt for what he was doing. And seeing as how Focalors never really intervenes in the trials, we can guess who gives him all this power and self-assurance. All speculations thus far, of course.

Neuvillette seems like someone who values etiquette. That being said, I don't think he's someone who'd opt for physical punishments rather, he'd probably make you memorize all the ridiculous court etiquette of Fontaine. Especially if you misbehave, the tomes of Fontaine's constitution are waiting for you.

#i fear the woman i'll become once we get his first in-game appearance u_u #the more i think about his yan potential the more he terrifies me #neuvillette brainrot #yandere #yandere genshin impact #yandere neuvillette x reader #yandere neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #neuvillette x you #──⚝🕯️anon #yandere x reader #fontaine #neuvillette #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact

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hollyhomburg · 7 months

Text

(Hopekook x reader, toxic relationship but in a 🥴 way, possessiveness, controlling behavior to the extreme, implied yoongi x reader, voyeurisim, exhibitionism, squirting, pee stuff, mafia stuff)

You know what I sorta want? Organized crime boss alpha hoseok who treasures his little omega pet beyond words, couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to her 🥰 unfortunately for him she has a habit of being a disobedient little pet. especially when he leaves for business and he’s not there to keep her in line himself. Luckily he has his live in bodyguard and most loyal second jk who keeps her fuzzy and omegaspacey and so spoiled she’d never think about leaving him. (Not that she could, not that he’d let her, but things won’t ever have to come to that because hoseok is going to treat her /well/ keep her happy)

He knows all of their rules. That she can’t touch unless hoseok says she can, can’t cum unless he says she can, can’t leave the apartment unless he says she can and if she’s accompanied by at least 3 guards, can’t skip meals, has to wear the clothes that alpha picks out for her. Everything. Hoseok is not the typical alpha, he demands utter devotion for what he gives- and he gives her everything in return.

Of course he has to leave sometimes for work, and the long weeks away are taxing on their relationship and her submission. jk is there to pick up the slack when he catches her with her hand between her thighs or using the shower head in ways she shouldn’t. often spanking her pussy pink and swollen infront of the camera and documenting every flinch and squeal for hoseok. Making her beg to cum, jks tatted fingers spreading her lips wide when hoseok asks to see her hole.

Just the threat of sicking jungkook on her is enough to have her quaking because he regularly fucks her to the point of incoherency, fucking her with his fat knot even after he’s cum and it’s popped. Hoseok always asks to see, always demands videos of the two of them. He has to make sure jk is breeding her properly in his absense 🥰

He gets little updates from jungkook whenever he’s away, little things like “she took her settling spanking so good this morning, woke up and asked for it like a good pup,” “ah she’s so cute, give her pussy a kiss for me” or “she was batting her eyes at one of our alphas, how do you want me to proceed?” “make her show him her hole and tell him it’s mine, fuck her infront of him if you must”

There are other cuter moments too, moments when she calls him curled up in jks arms and tells him how much they both miss their alpha, or when she wants to show him their kisses. How sweet she can be when she wants to be, or photos of jk tucked all under her chin, smothering her with his body the way hoseok always does too 🥺

Imagine she tries to leave the apartment without anyone, without jk, just to go downstairs to the coffee shop across the street for a treat, and hoseok is so pissed because she could have been put in real danger. Maybe she was in real danger and she almost got abducted by hoseoks enemies.

He’d be seething, already arranging for their deaths but unable to come home just yet. “I obviously can’t trust you to make decisions by yourself so from now on until I say so You’re not allowed to do anything without jks permission. you’re not allowed to sleep, eat, or take a fucking piss without him telling you that you can. Do you understand me?”

“Yes alpha.”

Jk is equally as angry, maybe he narrowly got to her in time before something did happen to her. But he takes hoseoks command seriously, the humiliation burning through her and doing something funny to her tummy when she tells him she needs to pee and he says she can’t yet. maybe he pushes it, waits until she’s squirming and begging and only the does he say she can. Maybe she tries to protest when he follows to watch. “Hyung says I’m not to leave you alone.” A mean glint in his eyes as he doesn’t move.

Maybe he likes it a little too much and continues to enjoy his power over her, waiting’s until he’s fucking his fat knot into her and on FaceTime with hoseok to tell him all about how she hadn’t been good enough today, that she was complaining about jk watching her, that it’s icky and embarrassing. But it’s hoseoks urging of “go on baby, you where complaining about how gross it was, why don’t you show us how good you can be” her sobs and hiccups music to his ears as jk’s knot presses right /there/ and she can’t /not/ make a mess all over. And the humiliation just intensifies when jk reaches down and slaps over her clit, making a wet slapping sound.

I imagine it’s all in an effort to make her obedient so that when hoseoks rivals or even his friends come over he can show off how /perfect/ she is. Making sweet commands like “baby, show us your pussy” and she lifts her skirts without a second thought, “good puppy, now kneel before daddy and Mr. Min” she drops to her knees without a second thought, nothing in her mind but /have to be good for alpha, have to be good for hoseok/. “Good pet, now suck on mr.min’s fingers like how you suck on jkies cock, show him how good and messy you get pet” and she just opens her mouth letting yoongi shove his fingers into the buckle, keening when he pets over her tongue. “No gagging?” “None at all, baby pet let me train that out of her ages ago, isn’t she beautiful?” Maybe he sits back and sips on his whiskey, snapping his fingers and beconing jk forward, “jk, show mr.min how cute she is when she cums”

“Yes sir.”

Maybe when she complains about something small (maybe she’s a little spoiled) like wanting two alphas for her heat when hobi’s going to be away for it and really she’s used to two knots at once during her heat 😠 why can’t she have that this time??? and hoseok just tells jk to see how many times he can make her squirt before she passes out.

The pictures he gets later…her ass up on the floor with a puddle beneath her, jk showing off his sticky fingers. His own glossy lips and fucked out grin. And the text that comes through isn’t just for her, but for him too

“Good puppy”

#bts mafia fic #bts mafia au #bts poly au #jungkook x reader #hoseok x reader #bts a/b/o #alpha! hoseok #alpha! jungkook #hopekook x reader

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mikavlcs · 1 year

Text

False Meridian

Pairing: Ghostface!Tara Carpenter x reader

Summary: Another Ghostface appears out of the blue and Tara will do whatever it takes to eliminate them before they get the chance to hurt you.

Warnings: graphic violence & gore (!!!), bad decisions, bad writing, the usual shit honestly, this fic also follows scream logic (stab wounds are akin to paper cuts)

Word count: 8.2k

Notes: this was requested by a few people. read the warnings pls. i hate this.

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2

It had been two months since your father’s death and things were very slowly but surely improving.

You integrated into life with the Carpenter sisters well. So well that Tara honestly thought you were always meant to have a place here. Even during those first few days when you were drowning in guilt and grief, you walked the halls of her house like you belonged there, and Tara loved it.

Unsurprisingly, through the impending days and weeks, your mother never came to check on you even once and, in turn, you never asked to see her. Tara couldn’t help but think it was for the better.

Now, she and Sam were your family, and everyone involved seemed more than happy with the arrangement.

Tara could do without having Sam there, personally, but she still had her uses and you loved her for some reason. Well, not for some reason, you’d mentioned how you always wanted an older sibling a few times, but why you adored having Sam in that position was still a mystery to her.

Sam had abandoned her when she needed her most, and her being back now, five years later didn’t change that, no matter how apologetic she tried to seem.

But Tara buried those thoughts whenever they came forth. Sam, for all of her many faults, was helping you and she wouldn’t begrudge you a connection with her sister because of her own hang-ups.

Plus, there were more pressing issues at hand to worry about anyway.

Returning to school after the bruises had healed enough to be believably covered by makeup and strategic wardrobe choices was tense for both of you.

Tara knew her friends could be nosy, and the last thing either of you wanted to talk about was what happened that night.

And the questions started immediately when you sat down at the group’s picnic table before first period. The boys were practically talking over one another, but they calmed when they noticed the way you shrunk into yourself.

Mindy specifically, being the only socially conscious one, was determined to give you space about the issue, whacking Chad and Wes when they crudely tried to question you and reminding you that they would be happy to listen whenever you were ready to talk.

For that, Tara was thankful, and she made sure Mindy knew that.

Over the days, weeks, and months, you established a new normal bit by bit. Your usual liveliness began seeping back in as the blood on your hands faded with time. Dinners and family nights were riddled with your laughter, and you started going to more and more group hangouts.

You seemed freer now, without the shackles your parents placed on you, and the sight made Tara overjoyed.

So things settled once more and a peace of sorts came to rest over her.

Sure, there were the daily annoyances like boys at school who stared at you in the halls, Wes’ insistent crush, and Sam’s overprotectiveness, but none of that mattered because you were there to soothe her every time.

And now that you lived with her, she had unlimited access to you—her favorite drug, her unending addiction. It was utter bliss.

But of course, peace, however relative it may be, never lasted for Tara.

It happened on a normal night, which only made it that much worse in Tara's mind.

You all had finished eating dinner together twenty minutes ago. Sam, as usual, left for her night shift just as you and Tara began washing dishes, walking out the door chuckling at Tara’s grumblings about getting out of chores while you waved.

Per the routine that you both had been cultivating, you washed, and she dried. You’d gotten to the point where you were both automatic, not needing to look to know where the other was and what they were doing.

When you blindly handed her a dish, she was already waiting for it with an open palm. You worked in tandem efficiently, like a well-oiled machine.

The only thing that actively broke the set-in-stone routine was the ringing of the landline on the kitchen counter.

It was an odd occurrence. The number connected to it was long forgotten by Tara, so it sat silently on the counter most days, completely invisible save for the few times it got knocked over while cooking.

So the sudden sharp ringing startled you both. Tara flinched, her movement nearly imperceptible, but you literally jumped. The only thing that kept you from dropping the dish you were scrubbing was the steadying hand Tara placed on your forearm.

You shot her a bewildered glance, which she returned, but ultimately you ignored it and went on with your shared task.

But then it rang again, and again, and again.

Both of you tried to continue ignoring the sound, but it persisted for minutes on end, unrelenting.

You dried your hands off roughly with the towel by the sink. “I’m just gonna answer it.”

Tara nodded mutely, her eyes following you as you answered the phone.

She continued to dry off the last few dishes, sending you small glances as she set them on the counter. You were leaning against the island, exchanging tense small talk with what Tara assumed to be a particularly insistent telemarketer and she could tell by your tone of voice that the conversation would be over very soon.

Just as she was about to put the dishes away, you gasped, and the phone clattered loudly onto the island counter. Tara was by your side instantly.

“What happened?” she asked urgently.

You didn’t answer, too busy pressing yourself against the sink to try and put as much distance between yourself and the landline as possible.

She carefully took one of your hands and cradled it between hers, hoping to calm you enough to talk and it worked.

“He—he asked what my favorite scary movie was.”

Oh, she thought, her previous tension abating a bit.

Stupid calls like this had been happening ever since her initial killing spree. Immature teens and twenty-somethings loved pretending to be her so they could scare a stranger and get a cheap laugh. Tara adored the Stab movies, but the hardcore fans could be such disruptive assholes.

She sighed, stroking her thumb softly over your knuckles. “It’s okay, baby. It’s just a prank call. People have been getting them for months now.”

You shook your head vehemently. Only now did Tara feel the slight shaking of your hand in hers.

“No, Tara,” you whispered, fear staining every syllable. “He knew my name.”

Tara froze. Immediately, she picked up the phone and pressed it to her ear.

“Who the hell is this?”

A sardonic laugh chimed from the speaker, and even from that single noise, Tara recognized the use of the voice changer.

“I’m just somebody who knows your little family secret, Tara.”

Her heart stuttered but she didn’t miss a beat. Thinking quickly, she decided to try and bait him.

“And just who are you? A loser who needs to hide behind someone else’s identity to mess with some girls? Don’t be a coward, show yourself.”

A clumsy attempt, but the only thing she came up with on the spot. Unfortunately, he didn’t bite.

“Oh, now where would the fun in that be? One of the best parts of the Stab movies is the mystery. Revealing the killer’s identity in the opening scene would be disappointing. As a fellow fan, wouldn’t you agree, Tara?”

The way he said her name, like a taunt rather than a title, made her skin prickle. Her irritation was rising steadily, but she couldn’t lose control. Not in front of you.

Narrowing her eyes, she walked to the other side of the kitchen and dropped her voice to the most menacing whisper she could muster.

“Is that what you think this is? The opening kill scene? Because I think you have it painfully backwards.”

“And what makes you think that? I could kick down your front door and dismember you both right now. Who knows, maybe I’m already inside.”

An empty threat, she knew, but still opened her security system app, silently thanking her intuition when she all but forced Sam to install one after you moved in. As expected, it was green. No doors or windows had been opened.

With that reassurance in mind, she set her phone down and turned her back to you.

“Believe me when I tell you that if you step foot inside of this house, I won’t just kill you, I will brutalize you. I will maim you so badly that your family won’t even be able to identify your body.”

The threat did little to deter the stranger. If anything, it seemed to excite him.

“Oh? And how can you be so sure?”

Tara chuckled. “Call it personal experience.”

“Well, luckily for both of us, we’re diverging from the formula. This isn’t a kill scene; this is a warning. A message, if you would.”

Confusion swelled in her. She asked, “A message for who?”

A laugh from the other end. Then, “You, Tara. And your dear sister. And your… ‘friend,’ of course.”

Her teeth grit harshly at the mention of you, but she needed to uncover a motive of some kind if she wanted to identify this person, so she tried another tactic.

“You’re a Stab fan, but you’re changing the iconic opening sequence?” she asked. “Why? Isn’t changing the franchise formula sacrilegious? I mean, they tried that with Stab 7, and look where that got them.”

“Ah, but this is my movie, Tara. And altering the structure serves a purpose. It destabilizes audience expectations and builds tension for the impending bloodbath in the future.”

“And when exactly will this bloodbath be?”

“I’ll be back for the seminal third act soon when both family members are present to witness it. In the meantime, I’ll keep your secret safe.”

Tara went to respond but the line went dead.

You watched her intently as she turned back around, glancing between her and the phone. Cautiously, you asked, “Did he hang up?”

She nodded, placing the phone back on the receiver roughly. She hadn’t managed to ascertain a solid motive, but there were pieces. Bits of a breadcrumb trail for her to try and follow.

He mentioned that this was his movie, could that be his motive? Was this just the work of a fanatical fan that wanted a movie made from their actions?

But at the same time, this sounded far too personal to just be some random fanboy. Why target her specifically? And what exactly was he talking about when he said he knew her secre—

A sharp knock on the window resounded through the kitchen.

Both you and Tara jumped. There was a moment of stillness, both you and Tara seemingly frozen in time, but she forced her legs to move. Slowly, she crept toward the window, ignoring your frantic whispers, and pulled the curtain aside.

Standing right on the other side was someone in a Ghostface mask and a black robe.

When he knew he had her attention, he tilted his head to the side and raised his hand, proudly showing off the knife within it.

Tara’s eyes widened. Her fingers curled instinctively, muscles tensing in preparation for a fight. But he simply waved, waggling his fingers around the hilt, then turned and walked away.

She wanted to chase him down, tear off that mask, and use that knife of his to tear out his insides. But she couldn’t leave you here alone, vulnerable to an attack from a possible accomplice. After all, there were usually two killers in the Stab movies.

So she stood with her feet planted before the window and watched as he disappeared into the night.

Behind her, she heard you speaking urgently with someone and her answer as to who it was came not even ten minutes later when her sister’s car screeched into the driveway.

There were only seconds between Sam haphazardly parking and her crashing through the door. Before she knew it, Tara was being pulled into a group hug, but her eyes remained on the window.

Distantly, she heard you recounting the events of the past half hour or so, and Sam’s repeated attempts to calm you finally pulled her from her stupor. She reached, put a consoling hand on your back and cherished the way your muscles relaxed under her touch.

A combination of Sam’s ushering and Tara’s reassurances got you to finally go upstairs and as soon as you were out of view, it became apparent that Sam was going to attempt to get Tara to follow suit.

“Hey, I know you’re probably shaken about what happened, but you need to rest,” Sam urged her kindly, but the words went largely unheard.

The only part Tara registered was the error in her statement. Because shaken wasn’t quite how she felt.

Her smoldering anger was present, burning her veins with its intensity, but more than anything she felt…dishonored. Aggrieved, even, that someone would dare don the mask and robe that she adorned months before and attempt to terrorize her in her own home. Not to mention the extended threat to you as well.

So, no, Tara was not shaken in the slightest. If anything, she was rooted more firmly in her ways than she had been in a while.

Sam approached and rubbed her shoulder gently. This time Tara looked over at her, which made the taller girl smile.

“Go get some sleep, Tar. I’ll stay up and keep watch.”

The use of the old nickname made Tara’s hand twitch. She wanted to protest, she didn’t trust her sister to bear that responsibility alone, but you were upstairs waiting for her. You needed her so she forced a nod and trudged up the steps.

As expected, you were in bed waiting for her. She climbed into bed next to you and pulled you into her, cradling your head to her chest. Neither of you spoke a word, just laid with each other in the silent reassurance that the other person was alright.

And even when your breaths eventually evened out, her gaze remained fixed on the ceiling above.

Tara didn’t sleep.

Her eyelids never even drooped. There was too much adrenaline, too much to think about, too many opportunities for someone to sneak in and hurt you for her to even think about sleep.

So instead, she cycled through all of the possibilities of who the imposter Ghostface could be and who their target was.

Her first instinct was to say they were after her, but that couldn’t be true. No one knew that she was behind the murders earlier that year. No one.

There were no witnesses, no clues left at the crime scenes, and no reason for anyone to suspect her.

Next would be you. But she couldn’t think of a single person who would want to hurt you. You had no enemies, at least none that she was aware of. It could theoretically be someone who knew about your father, but no one in their right mind would be seeking retribution for that waste of oxygen, so she wrote that off as well.

Lastly, there was Sam.

Sam was the biggest unknown factor for Tara. She knew next to nothing about her sister’s whereabouts in the past 5 years, besides the vague knowledge about her residing in Modesto for most of that time.

But faux Ghostface’s words kept replaying in her head.

“I’m just somebody who knows your little family secret, Tara.”

In the meantime, I’ll keep your secret safe.”

Tara thought that those comments were directed toward her, that someone had figured out what she had done. But what if they were about someone else? After all, she wasn’t the only one in the family with a dark secret.

Well, there was only one way to find out.

She was hesitant to leave you alone, even when she knew you were safe, but this was a conversation she had to have with Sam alone. So she carefully untangled herself from you and laid you against the pillow before heading downstairs.

Her sister was lying on the couch with her eyes glued to the tv, looking every bit as tired as Tara felt. She sat up as Tara entered. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Tara muttered, sitting down where Sam’s legs had previously resided. She gave her sister a serious look. “I need to talk to you.”

Sam’s brows furrowed at her tone, but she nodded. “Okay.”

“I need you to be honest with me, Sam. Please.”

Another nod. “I will.”

Tara took a deep breath. “Is there anyone from your past that you think would want to hurt you?”

“You think Ghostface was here for me?” Sam asked.

“I’m thinking it could be a possibility, yes.”

“Okay, um,” Sam bit her lip, thinking. “I don’t think so. I haven’t been involved in anything…bad for years now. What makes you think he might’ve been targeting me specifically?”

“He mentioned a family secret. Twice,” Tara explained, watching her sister’s reaction closely. “I’m not trying to accuse you, I promise, but is there anyone that you told about your parentage besides me? Anyone?”

After thinking for another moment, Sam paled. She looked away for a minute then, straightening up, she said, “I have to tell you something…”

“What?” Tara asked, trying to decipher her sister’s behavior.

“There’s…this guy that I’ve been talking to online. His name is Richie,” Sam said, voice unsteady.

Tara’s stomach dropped.

“Sam…”

“It was just casual at first, I swear. I wasn’t intending on getting too close, but I was struggling, and he offered to listen,” Sam whispered. Tears were welling in her eyes as the full realization hit her, but Tara didn’t care. She couldn’t, not with what she was hearing.

“Did you tell him?” she asked, heartbeat kicking up.

There was a beat of agonizing silence. Then, “Yes.”

Tara stood abruptly, fists clenched. Sam stood with her, hands hovering around Tara’s shoulders, but the smaller girl took a step back. Her mind raced. She was trying to simultaneously work out what was happening while actively refraining from strangling her sister.

A question rose to the forefront of her mind.

“How did he know where you lived?”

Sam looked away, shame radiating off of her. “…My birthday’s coming up. He said he wanted to send me something—"

Tara spun on her heels and stormed into the kitchen. Her sister was hot on her heels, the stuttered beginnings of an apology on her lips, but Tara couldn’t hear it over the blood roaring in her ears.

“Tara—"

“I can’t believe you,” she growled. “You risked not just your own life, but the lives of everyone in this house, and for what? A man that was just trying to use you? Jesus Christ, Sam. That’s pathetic, even for you.”

That nearly made, a few tears overflowed and spilled down her cheeks, but she kept herself together long enough to get out one more coherent sentence.

“I’m sorry, Tara. I never meant for something like this to happen, I swear.”

Shaking her head violently, Tara looked away.

She didn’t want to accept it. She wanted to go even further, to stick her finger in the wound and dig even deeper. Twist the knife even further and watch Sam squirm under the pressure. But she held herself back.

There was an unpredictable man in a Ghostface costume specifically targeting them. She needed all hands on deck. This wasn’t just about her feelings, even if entirely justified. You were here now, and your safety took precedence over her personal vendettas.

So she forced her tense muscles to go slack, wiped the fury from her features, and turned to pull Sam into her arms.

She disregarded the way her sister’s pathetic cries made set her nerves alight and whispered out meaningless we’ll be okay’s until the emotion passed.

Through it all, Tara tried to ignore how badly her palms itched.

Time passed in an odd, infrequent manner.

It was no longer a steady, unending stream of hours, days, and weeks. It trickled by in short, uneven bursts as if it was leaking from a broken faucet. Some days were long, the eight hours spent in school feeling like an eternity, while others seemed to last for minutes.

But eventually, the days added up until three entire weeks went by in paranoid quiet.

No sign of a lurking killer. No calls on the landline. Not a single glimpse of a white mask.

It was tormenting. Every day that passed without incident made her tenser, feeding her paranoia steadily until it was impossible for Tara to get a single good night of sleep.

Sam appeared to be suffering the same fate as her, but Tara didn’t care. She had offered the illusion of forgiveness in the moment, but they were on far from good terms.

They still saw each other every day since they lived in the same house, but apart from greetings and small pleasantries, Tara was trying her best to avoid interacting with her sister. The lingering anger and bitterness were still simmering beneath the surface, and she didn’t want to risk unleashing that in your presence, so she took to avoidance.

Sam noticed and tried to bridge the gap, mostly at dinner with incentivizing questions and comments, but her attempts were brazenly ignored by Tara, leaving you to awkwardly pull on the conversation threads in her place.

Of course, because of that, you picked up on the tension between the sisters. It was hard to miss, honestly.

Tara thought you would confront her about it, but you must’ve learned that head-on confrontation accomplished little when she was set in her ways about something because, suddenly, there were far more “family movie nights” than there were previously.

She participated half-heartedly, mostly for your sake but also because there was strength in numbers, and being together was safer than staying apart.

Tonight was one such night. It was 10 pm on a Friday, and you were practically buzzing with excitement beside her. For movie night tonight, you weren’t even watching a movie but instead finishing some Netflix show that you and Sam had gotten hooked on.

So you were snuggled into Tara’s side on the couch, pulling the show up on the tv while Sam made the popcorn (Tara’s personal favorite part of these nights, besides you).

“Ah, shit,” came Sam’s voice from the kitchen, and you both looked over to see what was going on. Sam closed the cabinet, a frown pulling the edges of her lips downward. “We’re out of popcorn.”

Your excitement tempered some, a disappointed sigh leaving your lips. You went to say something, but Sam straightened up, her frown disappearing.

“I can run to the store real quick and get some.”

Whether she was trying to dote on you to build rapport with Tara again or she just genuinely wanted to do it for you was unclear, but Tara didn’t like the idea of her going alone.

“Sam, maybe that’s not a good idea,” she reasoned. At her side, you nodded in agreement.

“Yeah,” you said, “it could wait till tomorrow.”

“There’s a convenience store a block or two away. It’s barely a trip.”

When neither of you responded, Sam pursed her lips, looking around briefly before grabbing her phone from the kitchen island and opening it. She spent a moment fiddling with it then came to kneel in front of you.

“Here,” she gestured to your phone, “accept the call, and I’ll stay on the line until I’m back.”

You hit answer, still hesitant. Tara said nothing, unease building in her gut steadily. It had been three whole weeks without a peep from Richie. And sure, the possibility of him losing his nerve and giving up was technically feasible, but was that really a risk worth taking?

“Are you sure you don’t want me or Tara to come with you?” you asked, worry tinging your tone.

Before Tara could say no, Sam shook her head. “No, you two stay here. I like knowing that you guys are safe with the security system in place. This should take no more than fifteen minutes and I’ll stay on the phone with you both the entire time, okay?”

Tara narrowed her eyes, flicking them over to you to see your response. For a moment you just sat there, looking worriedly at her sister, but you nodded slowly.

“If you hang up, I’m finishing the show without you,” you threatened with a small smile.

Sam laughed, patted your arm, and stood. Both you and Tara watched as she pulled her shoes and bomber jacket on. Tara was tempted to call her back but by the time the urge hit, Sam was shutting the door.

Throughout her journey to and inside the store, Sam kept her promise and didn’t hang up, keeping a steady flow of conversation with you even as she was being rung up by the clerk.

Tara stayed quietly by your side the whole time, trying to ease the pit in her stomach, but it didn’t go away. The dread persisted still as Sam announced that she was pulling into the driveway.

The muffled sound of a car door closing outside had you rushing over to the door. Tara smiled at your excitement, stepping up behind you as you pulled it open.

Outside, Sam was standing in the driveway, victoriously waving the popcorn in the air. “I got the last box!”

She started walking up to the open door when suddenly, a streak of black flashed across the yard, and before Tara could properly register it, her sister was being tackled to the ground. The sharp crack that accompanied her head hitting the ground barely resonated before Tara was slamming the door shut and twisting all the locks back in place.

You ran toward the door, but Tara grabbed you. “What are you doing?” she hissed.

“Sam’s out there, Tara. We have to help her.” You started toward the door again, but Tara wasn’t budging.

This is all her fault, she wanted to say but didn’t. Instead, she said, “We can’t. It’s not safe, but we’ll go back for her, okay? I promise.”

“Don’t be so sure about that, Tara.”

Tara inhaled sharply at the sound of the voice, while you dropped your phone with a gasp. But then the implications hit her just a second later and made her stomach drop to her feet.

The call was still connected. Sam’s phone was still unlocked, meaning Richie had full access to the security system app.

Seconds after Tara’s revelation, her phone dinged, and the voice notification automatically played.

Security System Disabled

A horrified gasp from her right told her that you heard it too. She tried to reenable it, but it was immediately disabled again, the green turning back to red while the mechanical voice taunted her.

Security System Disabled

There was no time. He was going to make his way in here, there was no stopping it.

Her greatest concern was making sure that you were as far away from him as possible when that happened. She grabbed your shoulders, caught your eye.

“Listen, take one of the kitchen knives and go lock yourself in my room. Hide in the closet and call 911. Tell them to bring police and paramedics, okay?”

You immediately shook your head and protested, “What? No, I am not leaving you alone with a serial killer, Tara.”

“Yes, you will. You need to.”

“Tara—"

“Please,” she begged, her voice strangled. She tightened her hold on your shoulders, thumbs digging into your soft skin. “Please, I can take care of myself. But I need to know that you’re safe. I can’t focus if you’re in danger. So please, just do as I say right now, ok?”

Reluctant, you nodded and pressed your lips to hers in a quick but firm kiss. After parting you held her gaze for another moment before running up the stairs toward the bedrooms.

Tara watched you go and once she knew you were safe, she ran into the kitchen and scoured through the cabinets until she found the large, cast-iron skillet she used for stir-fries. She tried to peer out the window, but with the curtains tightly drawn, there was no telling what was happening outside.

Tara paused, a strategy forming. She could use the lack of visibility to her advantage.

Quickly, she moved the knife block to the opposite end of the island then began to cut the lights in both the living room and the kitchen one by one.

She saved the kitchen for last, keeping her eyes on the door as she flicked the switch down and crouched behind the island near the knives to wait.

Minutes passed in eerie silence, then finally, she heard the tell-tale jingle of keys in the front door lock. The knob twisted and the door creaked as it was pushed open, soft and slow. The sound only put Tara even more on edge.

Light footsteps could just barely be heard even in the silence, and Tara’s ears perked. The sounds stopped momentarily, then started in her direction. Quiet footfalls neared at a glacial pace, giving Tara ample time to steady her grip and prepare herself.

Once the footsteps were practically next to her, she swung with all her strength to the left. She connected with the nearest leg, and the force of the blow sent shockwaves up her arms.

The pained shout that arose was distorted by the voice changer inside the mask, but the clatter of the knife he was holding falling to the floor was clear as day.

Tara stood and, as soon as she located the knife, kicked it away. She took another swing, but he seemed to hear this one coming because he jerked back, so she struck the hard counter instead. The physical shock of it made her drop the pan in surprise.

He stumbled to his feet, clearly favoring his left leg. Desperate, he swung wildly a few times. Tara backed away but in a stroke of luck, the last one connected with her cheek.

Pain exploded where his fist connected, echoing through her jaw. The familiar, addictively metallic taste of blood coated her tongue and teeth. The pain only served to ground her, focusing the smoldering fire of her rage solely on the man in front of her.

Breath heaving, he went for another blind punch, but she sidestepped and delivered a solid kick to what she hoped was his left knee. And if the groan was anything to go by, then she hit her mark.

He fell again, clutching his knee, and Tara circled him. She stood on his right shin, hooked her arms around his throat, and leaned against the counter behind her, pulling back as hard as she physically could.

Richie coughed violently. Flailing arms tried to pry her off, but she stood firm, eyes drifting to the knife holster on the island. She leaned down by his ear.

“You know, with all that talk about secrets, you really should’ve been more careful with your own.”

She squeezed her arms together tighter and braced her hands firmly on her upper forearms. The urgency in Richie’s movements increased, but he achieved nothing all the same.

“Because I know your secret too, Richie,” Tara growled, lips coiling into a malignant crimson smile.

He froze at the sound of his name and Tara took the opportunity to rip the mask off of his face.

Now that his mask of bravery was off, she was overcome with the need to turn the lights back on. Because she wanted to see it. She wanted to watch his weaselly face contort in pain, she wanted to watch those last bits of life drain from his eyes.

Violent desire coursing through her, her grip loosened, one hand reaching back to flick the light switch on. But that was all he needed.

A moment of hubris was enough to ruin the victory she had very nearly secured.

The instant the lights were on, Richie, with all his body weight behind him, lurched right, sending them both tumbling to the floor.

Because of her position, she was unable to get her arms beneath her in time, and her head hit the tile hard. She blinked against the white flash of pain, but by the time she got her bearings, Richie was already retrieving his knife.

Watching him struggle to his feet, Tara changed tactics. She backed into the living room to put some space between them so she could possibly get another weapon. But before she could assess the room, Richie rushed her with a loud cry.

He clumsily wrestled her to the ground in a mess of thrashing limbs. Because of his size, he gained the upper hand quickly and straddled her. Tara fought against him, lashing out violently with her hands, and her nails managed to catch on the side of his face.

Gasping, she dug them deeper into his skin and, with all her strength, pulled.

A yell of agony tore its way out of his throat, and Tara could feel his skin peel beneath her fingers and get stuck under her nails. But he didn’t let up. His fingers found their way around her throat and squeezed.

He had her pinned down. His fingers had a death grip around her throat and her vision was beginning to go dark around the edges.

She thought she saw a flash of something behind Richie, but she paid it no mind, keeping all of her focus and strength on punching and kicking and squirming. He pressed down on her trachea even harder, and Tara choked.

But then, Richie screamed and all at once his hands released her throat, and she could breathe again.

He careened to the side and only then did Tara notice the knife sticking from his left side. She looked back up and saw you with wide, terrified eyes. Despite the danger, she took a moment to appreciate the circumstance before her.

You had picked up his knife and stabbed him with it. She would have smiled if her throat wasn’t on fire.

Another ragged cough tore its way from Tara’s throat and that brought your attention from her attacker to her. Your eyes softened and you started toward her. But Richie wasn’t down just yet.

He wrenched the knife from his side with a grunt. With rage in his eyes, he turned to you, staggering unsteadily back to his feet with the knife tight in his grip.

“You fucking bitch!” he roared.

You froze and, without any other option, fled into the kitchen with Richie stumbling closely behind. Just as your fingers brushed the hilt of one of the knives in the block, he snagged the neckline of your shirt and yanked you back.

“Oh no you don’t.”

Richie pinned you against him, one arm steadily anchored around your ribcage and the other, the one with the bloodied knife, rising above his head. Tara tried to stand, but equilibrium was shockingly hard to regain at that moment.

She was just getting to her knees when he plunged the knife into your stomach. The pained scream that you let out would haunt Tara for the rest of her life.

Richie smirked, wide and unruly. “Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

The only response you gave was a whimper. He grabbed you by the neck and slammed your head down onto the kitchen counter. Hard. A loud crack echoed off the walls and you fell in a heap on the floor, unconscious.

Words like rage, fury, and anger were far too soft to describe the feeling that overtook her when your body hit the ground.

The emotion that overcame her was rough and discordant, and primitive. It bled over her vision, tainting it dark crimson, and pushed her to her feet with a newfound balance and sick certainty.

At full speed, Tara ran and latched onto him, using all of her body weight to throw him back onto the living room carpet.

Richie tried to stand again, but Tara tackled him back down and straddled him. But Tara punched him once, hard, then again and again and again until his head lolled and his grip slackened, leaving the knife to fall onto the carpet beside him.

Seeing him lying under her, bruised and defeated, didn’t satisfy Tara, nor did the ache in her knuckles. Not after he hurt you so badly. She needed him to bleed. She needed him to suffer.

He needed to pay.

Steady fingers wrapped around the hilt of the knife at her side. As she raised it above her head, she found a certain poeticism in it—the fact that Richie was going to meet his end at the hands of the true Ghostface, with his own weapon.

With a deep breath, she allowed the savage tidal wave of emotion to wash over her, and she saw more than felt the way she slammed the knife down. Time became a blur of movement. Red clouded her vision, but she could feel everything—the hard hilt of the knife, the give of the flesh beneath it, the satisfying crunch of bone.

The image of you being stabbed playing over and over and over, fueling the raging wildfire within her.

By the time she returned to herself, there was an all-encompassing silence; the only sounds impeding it were her labored breaths.

The knife in her hand was slick with blood. A fierce ache ran from her forearms to her shoulders. Tara looked down at her victim and her brows furrowed.

What remained of Richie’s head was a mess of jutting bone fragments, scattered clumps of blood-soaked hair, and chunks of torn flesh. Amongst the soup of blood, bone, and brains, there was an eyeball rolled off to the right. Distantly, she wondered where the other one was.

Looking further down, Tara noticed the amount of blood on the ground. The carpet was drenched in red, and given how saturated it looked, she wouldn’t be surprised if it soaked all the way through to the hardwood beneath it.

Tara exhaled sharply through her nose. That carpet would definitely have to be replaced.

Her eyes moved off the ground and toward the kitchen, where your limp form entered her vision. Immediately, she dropped the knife and ran to you, dropping to her knees beside you.

She scrambled to press her fingers to your neck, and thankfully, she found a pulse. It was weaker than she would’ve liked, but it was steady. You were holding on for her, and that meant everything to Tara.

Turning her attention back to your wound, she assessed the damage. The blade was still lodged firmly inside your stomach, and she hadn’t enough medical knowledge to know whether it pierced anything important based just off its positioning alone, but she knew not to take the knife out.

So she pressed her hands down around it as hard as she could. You let out a pained breath in your unconscious state but showed no signs of rousing. She wasn’t sure if that was good or not.

All that mattered was making sure that you stayed with her until the paramedics arrived. She knew you listened to her earlier, so authorities should be on their way with medical help in tow.

But she would be lying if she said her composure didn’t begin to slip with each passing second of silence.

What got her most was the blood. Tara was accustomed to gore and had long passed the point where anything like that bothered her, much less the sight of just blood, but this was your blood, and it was everywhere.

On her hands, slipping between her fingers, pooling beneath you, staining her pants, on your face, drying just beneath your nostrils.

All Tara could see was red, red, red, and not because of her anger, but because of her inability to protect you when it mattered.

The door opened, slamming harshly against the wall, and Tara jumped, instinctively putting herself between you and whoever was approaching.

She glanced back and saw her sister standing in the doorway, leaning against it slightly as she clutched her stomach. Their eyes met and Sam visibly relaxed. “Tara—"

Her gaze wandered left, and Sam stopped short by the door; eyes glued on the mess of human flesh laying limp on the carpet. Cursing silently, Tara squeezed her eyes shut.

She rushed to find any sort of justification, but it was hard when her world was falling apart before her eyes and beneath her hands.

“He—he hurt—” Tara broke off into a sob, the blood on her hands burning nearly as much as her throat.

Sam tore her eyes away from Richie’s remains and looked back over to her younger sister. Her eyes widened and Tara assumed that she finally noticed your worrying state. Tara kept her hands firmly pressed to your wound as she watched Sam, trying to figure out what her next move would be.

Finally, she said, “It’s okay,” sounding more like she was trying to reassure herself than Tara. She nodded to herself, repeated it, “It’s okay.”

Slowly, she moved from her place by the door and approached the body, looking like she was fighting the urge to be sick the closer she edged to it.

“What are you—” Tara started, eyes wide, but Sam interrupted.

“Listen, when the police come, you’re going to tell them that I did this.”

Tara blinked, lost. “W-What?”

Sam, with a pale grimace, reached down to the mass of flesh and began doing a mixture of spreading and splattering the warm, leaking blood on her shirt, face, and arms. Then she came to kneel on the other side of you, giving you a long mournful look before she spoke to Tara.

“When they ask you what happened, you tell them that he was trying to hurt you and I did…that to him because of it. Okay?”

Nothing was making sense. She wouldn’t take the fall for Sam if it were the other way around, so the fact that Sam was so willing to do it for her was…it was rousing feelings she hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

“Why?” Tara asked, bewildered.

“Having this on your record, even if it was self-defense, will haunt you for the rest of your life. You have a bright future, Tara, and I’m protecting that.”

Traces of the affection she once felt for her sister flared up and to her surprise, Tara felt more tears well up in her eyes and spill over. Real tears accompanying the achingly real tightness in her chest. “Sam—”

Sam just shook her head. “You know how Sheriff Hicks feels about me; she’ll be more than happy to put this on my record. You’re going to be ok. Both of you will. I promise.”

Gently, she leaned her forehead against Tara’s and kept it pressed there until sirens blared in the distance. When Sam stood and went over to kneel by Richie, Tara blinked away her tears and pressed her hands down harder on your wound.

Police burst through the door, and everything blurred for Tara. The world became a cacophony of lights and sounds and movement, and she only snapped back to reality when paramedics started trying to take you away from her.

In her mind, she knew she should let them take you. That you were much safer in the hands of professionals that could properly tend to you, but the logical part of her brain was quickly overshadowed the moment someone tried to pull her away.

Because she needed to be next to you. She needed to feel your pulse, see the rise and fall of your chest with her own eyes to make sure that you were still alive.

So she fought every hold on her, twisted violently against the increasing number of hands clutching onto her, trying to separate her from you. And she nearly succeeded. She was so close, so close to making it back to your side.

A prick in her neck was the last thing she felt before the world faded to nothing, the last remnants of your name dying on her tongue.

A monotonous beeping in your ear was the first thing that you registered.

The second was how weird you felt. You felt heavy and weightless at the same time. You cracked your eyes open and instantly closed them against the blinding brightness you were met with. Briefly, you wondered if you died, but something told you that the afterlife didn’t smell like antiseptics.

Once more, you opened your eyes, going slower so your eyes could properly adjust, and finally took in your surroundings. You were in a hospital room and a glance to your left told you that the annoying beeping you heard was a heart monitor.

Awareness slowly crept back into your dazed mind. The moments came back one by one, flashing against the back of your eyelids as you blinked.

Ghostface attacking Sam. You going upstairs and calling 911. Running down and helping Tara.

Tara.

With a gasp, you jolted up. Your wound gave a powerful throb in response, cutting straight through the pain meds but you ignored it.

The last thing you remembered was the man—Richie? —thrusting a knife into you, then your face met the hard marble of the kitchen counter and that was it.

Was Tara ok? Did Sam make it? Was Ghostface caught and apprehended?

Those questions fueled you to sit up but you only made it halfway before strong hands were on your shoulders, pushing you back down.

“No, don’t move.”

Recognition sparked instantly. You knew that voice. Tara.

The need to know that she was alright nearly made you frantic as you looked at her, and took in her state.

She had a fading bruise on her cheek, and there was some much harsher, nearly black bruising around her neck, but otherwise, she looked fine, if a bit tired. You let out a sigh of relief.

You tried to lift your hand to her neck, but you only made it about halfway before Tara caught it and brought it to her lips to press a kiss to your knuckles.

“Looks worse than it,” she said with a small grin, but you could hear the strain. It reminded you of the ache in your throat after what your father did, the bruises he left behind.

You looked away, decided to focus on the other questions plaguing your mind.

“What happened to the man? Is Sam okay?”

Tara’s eyes flashed with something, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. “Richie’s dead.”

“The police killed him?”

She looked away then and played with your fingers. “No, Sam did.”

“Sam?” you asked in disbelief. That didn’t seem quite right, but you couldn’t pinpoint why.

You looked at Tara, saw the exhaustion in her eyes, the way she was worrying her lip between her teeth, the tension in her brow, and you decided to believe her.

It had been a long, hard night for everyone, and you heard whisperings of something deeper going on with Sam, so maybe she was capable of that. After all, weren’t you?

And either way, it was self-defense. He attacked first, unprovoked. The world was probably better without him, as much as the thought put a bitter taste in your mouth.

Plus, Tara would never lie to you.

“Is she alright?” You decided on after minutes of processing.

Tara nodded. “Yeah, she’s stable. She’s in the room across the hall. The sheriff kicked me out to take her statement.”

“Can you tell her I said hi? And thanks for making sure Richie couldn’t hurt anyone else.”

That made Tara freeze. Just for a moment before she seemed to catch herself, but you saw it nonetheless. “Yeah, of course.”

Under any other circumstances, you’d have half a mind to ask Tara about her odd behavior or at least store it away for later contemplation, but as it stood, the pain medication was already sweeping the incident away.

Silence lapsed and you both just enjoyed one another’s presence, basking in the knowledge that the other was safe and sound.

The tempting call of sleep tugged at you. You tried to stay in the moment, but you were drifting. You could tell and so could Tara, who coaxed your attention to her with a gentle stroke of her thumb across your knuckles.

“Get some rest, sweetheart. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“Promise?” you slurred, eyes already drifting closed.

You could practically hear the smile in her voice when she said, “Of course.”

She lulled you to sleep with the promise and a final, tight squeeze of your hand, and you drifted off into a drug-induced slumber with thoughts of your gentle, loving girlfriend at the forefront of your mind.

#this fic was written while almost exclusively listening to sonic the hedgehog music #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #ghostface!tara #scream #jenna ortega #i don't care how well this does #i just want it out of my face...#sorry this sucks lmao #this whole series isn't very good tho #so i guess that's the standard

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snailsdraw · 1 year

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[Start ID: 3 pages of HLVRAI doodles exploring the idea of Benrey using tone indicators and Tommy's use of quasi-auditory emoticons. The last 2 are a comic narrative.

When he spots Benrey reaching for a soda, Tommy sternly tells him, "Uh- no, Benrey. Don't. Touch. That," followed by somehow enunciating a copypasted emoji that looks like two eyes hovering in the darkness. Benrey backs off and goes, "okay, geeez. why you mad? /g" Tommy then explains, looking very pleased with himself, "I'm not! I'm testi- testing out a new [REDACTED] and it's working pretty uhfect- effectively :D!" Said [REDACTED] refers to the earlier eyes emoji. In a separate scenario, Tommy explains his emoticon usage to Gordon, saying, "There's uh- a subtle difference between :o, :0, and :O," to which Gordon, disturbed out of his mind at how Tommy had even managed to speak that, whispers to himself, "I…I understand that. Why do I understand that??" And in the last scenario in this page, Gordon and Tommy happen upon something terrible and unfathomable. Gordon, with a blank almost-smile, utters in a light-headed way, "I'm going insane. I am going. Insane. I'm just gonna go lie down now." Meanwhile, Tommy has since stopped processing what he was looking at and is rapidly skipping straight to just accepting the reality of it. All he says is, ":0"

Benrey asks Gordon, "yo, why d'you tie your hair all tight like that? used to look all soft 'n nice 'n shit /pos" His hand is reached upwards to where Gordon's hair is tied back neat and flat against his skull, and Gordon swats it away, annoyed. "Does it LOOK like I've got time for some sorta- what- FASHION STATEMENT? I'm trying to survive, man! How the hell am I supposed to see with my hair comin' down like that?" In a split second moment of realisation though, Gordon's tone shifts to something more accusatory, "Oh, but of course you'd LOVE THAT, wouldn't you? Cuz I wouldn't see YOU comin' then, would I?" Benrey just rolls his eyes and folds his arms, "ughhh, bro chill. "/pos", remember? i was complementing you. Gordon Forget-man." That claim has Gordon laughing in disbelief. "Yeah, sure. And last I checked, you got my ARM cut off. But that's no big deal, right? That's fine, that's cool, and an okay thing to happen."

Benrey gives him a strange look. "…bro, you bein' /s right now, or- " but Gordon cuts him off and tells him, "I'm not talking to you anymore."

End ID.]

[Open-mouth emoticons: ":o" indicates a casual tone, a statement with no threat ":0" indicates a slight botheredness, OR complete blankness ":O" indicates enthusiasm or an amplified emotion]

I just like my open-mouth emoticon tone indicator substitutes :)

#i found the emoji from emojicombos and i couldn't find a creator to credit so if anyone knows who made it do let me know!#hlvrai #hlvrai tommy #hlvrai benrey #hlvrai gordon #id #tone indicators #emoticons #snail's art #tw eye contact #eye contact

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nobodylikety · 3 months

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Puppy dinner 🦴

I've been thinking about puppy! yujin having the palate of a 5 year old,,, cause' she's super picky though in short, for Yuj veggies are meanie, and puppy snacks are goodie 🥺 sooo here some more thoughts on puppy yuj before I go on with the rest of hybrid! IVE, and the fics I have yet to write, so hope you enjoy it 🩷

tags: puppy! yujin x fem! reader, fluff, hybrid AU.

Yujin is sitting at the dining table, wearing one of your baggy hoodies. Her tail wags gently, expectantly, finally picking up speed as soon as you place the dinner in front of her, served on a deep plate. Yujin rises slightly from her seat to see what she'll be eating that night.

Broccoli, she thinks with a pout as she lowers her ears, a gesture that quickly transforms into an adorable grimace of distaste as she sees the contents of the plate. She barks in a whiny tone, making puppy eyes.

Yujin doesn't particularly like vegetables (she prefers puppy treats, especially cookies, a thousand times over, or a nice little piece of roast beef), although she is able to tolerate some like lettuce and peas, but broccoli... she can't tolerate it. She hates it, even considers it her worst enemy.

"Come on, puppy, it's time for dinner," you say in a honeyed, almost motherly tone as you take a seat across from her. Yujin is grouchy in her own cute way; scowling, ears flat and barking plaintively. But you ignore her gestures, because it's a tantrum like any other.

Using your fork, you take a piece of broccoli, and bring it up to Yujin's mouth. "Come on, Yujinnie. You have to eat."

Yujin shakes her head, pursing her lips now, refusing to open her mouth. No way in hell is she going to eat that wicked broccoli. You are aware of the puppy's attitude, so you decide to take another approach and start feeding her the other vegetables on the plate, to make it easier.

The broccoli will come later, for last.

So for a while, Yujin eats the peas one by one, followed by the lettuce and carrots. You smile in amusement, because your puppy is such a good girl (when she's not upset about eating broccoli, of course), and in a matter of a few minutes she finishes her vegetables almost completely. All that's left in the bowl are the little pieces of broccoli, waiting to be eaten by the adorable hybrid.

"Can I get off? I've finished my dinner, owner," asks Yujin in a soft, affectionate tone. You know she's using her secret weapon, tenderness, to distract you and make you forget about the broccoli. But you're not going to let her beat you so easily.

"Baby," you just have to utter that word, in a firm tone, to get her attention. Yujin turns, and suspects she's been spotted, but her adorable facial expression doesn't change, so as not to give herself away, and she prefers to continue her mischievous little lie.

"Yes, owner?"

"Aren't you forgetting something?" you raise an eyebrow, looking directly at her. Then your eyes briefly glance at the bowl, as if to say ‘eh, you're forgetting that,’ but Yujin doesn't take any notice. She's still adorable, making an innocent face, as if she doesn't understand what you mean.

"I don't think so, owner," Yujin replies, her tone sincere. For a moment, as you look at her, you get the slight impression that she's going to start giggling, which will give her away for good. But Yujin is determined to see this lie through to the end, because she's not going to give in and agree to eat that awful broccoli. Never.

"Pup, you and I both know you're missing something. It starts with B, and ends in Broccoli" you take your fork and prick a piece of the said vegetable, showing it to her and waving it slowly in front of her eyes.

And Yujin can't pretend any longer, and ends up giving herself away when she starts her tantrums and pouting. It's a sequence of puffing her lips and pouting, wagging her tail and twitching her ears, and finally just making little whiny noises. You find it all genuinely adorable, and though you smile inwardly, you can't change your position, as you must remain steady, so that Yujin can eat her vegetables.

"Come on, angel, you must eat the broccoli. You know the doctor said you should eat more vegetables, because of your puppy diet," you put the broccoli back in her mouth, and she again refuses to eat it, pursing her lips.

That's when you start to despair, because Yujin's doctor told you that you can't keep letting her eat so many puppy treats, as her hybrid organism is different from that of a human, and in the long run it will affect her health. And you, who don't want to see your little angel like that, feeling sickly, is the reason why you try so hard to make her eat.

But now you're worried that you don't have a plan B, while on the other side of the table Yujin just throws a tantrum, until a miraculous idea practically springs to life.

Out of the panic of the moment, it hadn't occurred to you.

"Okay, fine, pup. Let's make a deal."

Hearing that, and seeing you put down your fork and no longer try to give her the alien broccoli, Yujin relaxes. She doesn't let her guard down completely, though, and remains vigilant in case you try again.

"Yuj listen, owner."

"Look, baby, for every broccoli you eat, I'll reward you with kisses or stuffed animals, whatever you decide." Yujin knows you can't reward her with doggy cookies for some time, at her doctor's request. And Yujin is a good girl at least most of the time, so she has to listen to the doctor, so she doesn't insist. "Do you agree...?"

You're practically praying for your hybrid puppy to accept, as that's your ultimate plan. You have no choice (or you do, but that one ends with you throwing the broccoli in the trash, and you hate to throw away perfectly good food).

"Yuj doesn't like alien broccoli..." the hybrid begins to speak as a blush take over her cheeks, calmly wagging her tail. She looks shy and adorable, which is the side you like best. "But the doctor says Yuj should eat more vegetables and less puppy cookies. And Yuj is a good girl, and as a good girl I must listen to Miss Doctor."

Relieved, you sigh and sketch a smile, calm at last. It is then that, after pouting and protesting, Yujin agrees to eat the broccoli, slowly and with a few whiny noises, but she does.

"That's it, puppy, you're so good, my love. You deserve all the stars as a reward." You love praising her (you have been doing it since the first day you met her), and you know it's well received, as the puppy hybrid becomes into a cute, giggly, cuddly little pup, her cheeks flushing and her tail wagging restlessly.

And that's the kind of thing that makes your heart race, thudding against your ribs, because you love Yujin, you love your puppy even with her sulks, tantrums and refusals to eat vegetables.

Because at the end of the day, despite everything, you love Yujin with every part of your being.

#hybrid!au #kpop hybrid au #puppy!yujin #ahn yujin #yujin ive #ive imagines #ive yujin #ive x reader #yujin x reader

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sunflowersandsapphires · 8 months

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A Duplicate of Earth

When Skies Are Gray, Chapter 1

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: Frank’s life has reached a crossroads: he can either continue to seclude himself and pursue a dark, lonely future, or he can open himself up to connecting with someone again and maybe achieve happiness. Being the grump that he is, Frank has already committed to the lonely path, but his curious new neighbor might just turn that around.

Warnings: minors DNI, swearing, implied depression, implied eating disorder (the reader is going to be in recovery in this fic, if it gets graphic I will absolutely warn y’all. This is mostly therapeutic for me lol).

a/n: This fic was so fun to write!! I love grumpy Frank with all of my heart and I think he deserves to have someone teach him how to feel joy again. So this is my attempt at that. It is loosely based on the poem "A Myth of Devotion" by Louise Gluck at the beginning of the chapter (which is SO Frank!Coded imo, like absolutely fits his fears and self-deprecation) and the myth of Hades/Persephone.

Lastly, a HUGE thank you to @saradika for the beautiful free divider I used in this fic!

w/c: 5.4k (poem not included, this is 17 pages y’all)

When Hades decided he loved this girl he built for her a duplicate of earth, everything the same, down to the meadow, but with a bed added.

Everything the same, including sunlight, because it would be hard on a young girl to go so quickly from bright light to utter darkness

Gradually, he thought, he'd introduce the night, first as the shadows of fluttering leaves. Then moon, then stars. Then no moon, no stars.

Let Persephone get used to it slowly. In the end, he thought, she'd find it comforting. A replica of earth except there was love here.

Doesn't everyone want love? He waited many years, building a world, watching Persephone in the meadow. Persephone, a smeller, a taster. If you have one appetite, he thought, you have them all.

Doesn't everyone want to feel in the night the beloved body, compass, polestar, to hear the quiet breathing that says I am alive, that means also you are alive, because you hear me, you are here with me. And when one turns, the other turns—

That's what he felt, the lord of darkness, looking at the world he had constructed for Persephone. It never crossed his mind that there'd be no more smelling here, certainly no more eating.

Guilt? Terror? The fear of love? These things he couldn't imagine; no lover ever imagines them.

He dreams, he wonders what to call this place. First he thinks: The New Hell. Then: The Garden. In the end, he decides to name it Persephone's Girlhood.

A soft light rising above the level meadow, behind the bed. He takes her in his arms. He wants to say I love you, nothing can hurt you but he thinks this is a lie, so he says in the end you're dead, nothing can hurt you which seems to him a more promising beginning, more true.

Tracing his fingers along the page, Frank reread the stanzas. He was not quite sure what kept drawing him back to this piece. He’d never been a fan of modern poetry, more drawn to the subtlety of the Victorian era. Yet every night this week, when his sweat-soaked body bolted upright with a gasping breath, he read through this piece while his heart rate slowed.

He has a blurry memory of the story from his childhood. Studying the Greek gods in school, reading excerpts of the Iliad or whatever. He has always been drawn to this specific myth, for whatever reason. Hades and Persephone, darkness and light. But he doesn’t remember it feeling so…corrupt.

The story he had learned was one of great romance: two unlikely lovers fighting against the odds, reshaping the earth to remain together. But the way Glück illustrates the story illuminated a more sinister interpretation. One night, in an insomnia-induced haze, he’d read page after page about the two gods, trying to find a definitive answer to the question that bounced around his mind. Did Hades ruin poor Persephone? Was their love itself ruinous?

Glück sure seemed to think so. Maybe that was what sparked his interest in the piece. The idea that love could tarnish something so pure—Frank sure had a fair share of experience with that.

With a hefty sigh, he closed the book, glancing at the clock. 4:05 am. Digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, he weighed his options.

“Up for a jog, Max?” Frank murmured, looking to the canine who was curled up in his crate. The dog just snored. “Suit yourself, bud.”

Slipping into a pair of athletic shoes and a light sweatshirt to accompany his sweats, he stepped out the door and towards the stairs, almost colliding with a young woman frantically darting down the hall.

“So sorry. Have a nice day!” The figure whisper yelled at him as she ran past.

He takes a second to regain his bearings, before plastering on a scowl and heading off on his run.

The outing was refreshing to a degree, but his mind was still plagued with thoughts of his wife and the darkness that had consumed her, just as it had Persephone.

Curtis let his eyes follow the pacing form in front of him as he let out a sigh. Having been a friend of Frank’s for some time now, he wasn’t a stranger to moodiness or the other man’s incredibly fiery temper, yet Frank had been worse than usual lately. It seemed like the drop of a pin could set him off these days, and Curtis could practically see a cartoon storm cloud following him around with the way he’d been glowering lately. Curtis had hoped David would be able to shed some light on the cause of the behavior, but the technician was as clueless as him.

They (they is a term very loosely used, given that David was overtly opposed to the idea,) decided to ask Frank about it the next time he visited Curtis. So, here they both were, watching Frank stomp across the floor and waiting for him to explain himself. Finally, Frank turned to them.

“You gonna keep starin’ at me like I’m a goddamn explosive or are ya gonna ask me your fuckin questions so we can move on?” Frank’s growl made David flinch.

“Hey, easy there, big guy. This isn’t an interrogation.” David pleaded, trying to wipe off the coffee he had inadvertently spilled on himself.

“We’re here to help you, Frank. Same as always. Something’s been eating you away recently and we wanted to check in.” Curtis reasoned, looking between David and the marine.

“M’ fine.” Frank grunted, draining the rest of his own coffee and stalking over to the machine for a fresh pour.

David rolled his eyes, gesturing to Frank pointedly. “Told you he wouldn’t want to talk about it.”

Apparently this was not the right thing to say, because Frank stilled with the pot of coffee in his hands. “You two are talkin’ ‘bout me now? Am I entertainin’ enough for ya? Jesus.” He slammed his cup down, grabbing his jacket from the seat next to Curtis and heading for the door.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you have somewhere else to mope?” Curtis asked with a raised brow, almost amused by how childish Frank was being.

“Anywhere but here would be nice. That way I’m not interrupting your fuckin’ drama club.” Frank snapped, twisting around to face Curtis. “You wanna make me your pet project? Fine. Keep doing it when I’m not fuckin’ here.”

“Frank, we weren’t—we were just worried about you, that’s all. You’ve been really…down lately and—“ David struggled to reason with the furious man.

“Oh, have I? So sorry to be such a goddamn stick in the mud, Lieberman. We all know life has been real nice to me so I should be more grateful, ‘s that it?.” Glaring at the pair of men before him, Frank threw on his jacket and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Curtis sighed, sipping his coffee and turning to David. “I should’ve known better than to think he would talk this out. He says he’s fine, we treat him like he’s fine. He’s a grown ass man who can work up the balls to ask us for help if he needs it.”

David barked a laugh. “We both know he won’t though.”

“Yah…you’re probably right about that.”

Frank was still fuming as he trudged through the city streets at sunset. His mood had been worse than usual lately, but his friends’ inquiry just made him feel guilty and stupid for not knowing why. Things hadn’t been too bad recently. The past few missions he’d taken on had gone smoothly—to the point where it had been over a month since Curtis had to help stitch him up, and that had to be a record. Not to mention, he’d stopped an international arms dealer last week while on his own job, putting him on Madani’s good side for the first time in his miserable life.

His fist clenched around Max’s leash, but the dog seemed entirely unbothered by his irritation. Happily trotting next to him, gazing up with adoration every once in a while.

Frank sighed as they reached the entrance to his building, stopping his brisk pace for a moment to give the dog a scratch. “I’m sorry I’ve been out so much, bub. We’ll do this more, promise.”

Max simply spun away from him, sniffing the air. Frank gave a weak chuckle, shaking his head at the dog’s ambivalence. The pair started up the stairs towards their floor, Max pulling harder than usual. When they reached the landing, Max froze as Frank headed for his front door. Stumbling backwards briefly, Frank tried to start moving again, but Max held firm—letting the leash grow stiff between them.

“Max. C’mon, bud. Le’s go.” The pit bull simply gave Frank a piercing look, before abruptly jerking backwards, wriggling his head.

“Max, what the hell, stop that!” Desperately, Frank tried to grab his dog, but Max was too quick. Within moments, he’d slipped free of his collar and taken off.

Frank sprinted after him, heart sinking as he realized Max was beelining for an open apartment door. The last thing he needed was a goddamn dog-induced injury suit.

Reaching the doorway, Frank saw Max sniffing around a young woman happily—the same woman who had almost run into him this morning. To Frank’s disbelief, she laughed. The sound was surprised, but bright and it pulled at his heart in a way he did not have time to unpack.

“Hey, big guy!” You held your hand out for Max to sniff, which he did enthusiastically. “You lost?”

Max gave you a few exuberant licks before sticking his nose back to the ground and snuffling around your kitchen, clearly looking for something.

Eventually, Frank unfroze from his stupor and spoke. “I am so sorry, ma’am. He’s never gotten loose like that before. Max, c’mere.”

Seemingly through with his rebellious phase, the dog sauntered up to Frank, tail wagging, before turning to allow Frank to reattach his collar.

Standing in front of Frank, you gave another beautiful laugh, beaming up at Frank from where you were standing before him. “That’s quite alright. I’m never opposed to a new friend. Besides, my kitchen is quite literally filled with dog treats at the moment, so I can’t exactly blame him for his actions. Still smiling, you pulled a tray of dog biscuits from the counter next to you, giggling as Max sat down expectantly.

“Can he have one? They’re chicken flavored, if that’s an issue.” You looked at Frank, questioningly. Still mortified by his dog’s outburst and quite honestly shocked that this gorgeous woman was still talking to him, he stammered. “Uh—yah, that’s. That’s fine.”

Your smile widened as you grasped a few treats. “Here, bubba.” Max snatched the treats from your hand, greedily gulping them down before moving closer to you and holding up a paw.

Laughing again, you set down the tray and crouched to shake his outstretched paw. “Well aren’t you a talented pup. What’s his name?” You turned to Frank, one hand scratching behind the dog’s ears.

“This is Max…And I’m Frank.” His vocal chords seemingly operating on their own, Frank cursed himself for the honesty. Why on earth did he feel compelled to give this woman his life story?

“Nice to meet you, Max!” You ruffled the fur on the pit’s head, chuckling as he kissed your arm. “And you as well, Frank. My name is-“ and your name tumbled off your lips. You held out a hand to him. Frank gave a small grimace of a smile, grasping your hand and repeating your name back to you. It was beautiful and more than suited you.

“It’s very nice to meet you ma’am. I should, uh, we should go.” Frank said lamely, tugged on Max’s leash to exit your apartment.

Grinning at him still, you waved goodbye. “Have a nice night, Frank. Stop by anytime”

The next time he saw you, you were struggling to lug massive cardboard boxes into your apartment. It had been a few days since Max made your acquaintance and he’d been avoiding damn near everyone, which had only worsened his bad mood.

As he took a few steps towards his front door, trying incredibly hard to not stare at your beautiful figure in the low cut sundress you were wearing, a loud crash caught his attention.

“Shit!” You cursed, jumping back quickly to avoid smashing your foot underneath the box you’d dropped.

“You, uh, need a hand?” Frank grumbled, shuffling closer to you.

“Oh, hi Frank! Sorry I was so focused on this thing that I didn’t see you.” There was that beaming smile again. Frank shied away like it would burn him.

“Ain’t a problem. So…you want help?” He asked again, rubbing at his nape as he blushed. Why on earth would you want his help when he acted like he’d never met another human before?

“That would be amazing. This bed frame is way heavier than I was prepared for.” You kicked the box lightly, glaring at it.

Frank shifted it up into his arms with ease. “Where would you like it?”

“The room to your left please!” You chirped, pointing him in the room’s direction. “Thank you so much for your help.”

Frank set the heavy box down, turning back to you. “Looks like you needed it. You ain’t exactly dressed for lifting this.” Frank scoffed, before realizing in horror what he’d just said.

“You don’t like my dress?” Your voice was soft and you looked at him with round eyes. He cursed himself for being born. If the world was fair, no one would ever make you look like that. His darkness was all consuming.

“Oh, shit, I wasn’t thinking. I—“

You bit your lip, a sly grin spreading across your face. “I’m teasing you, Frank. I came right from work and didn’t have time to change. It’s a ridiculous outfit for building furniture. Please, sit! I have something for you.” You ushered him over to your couch.

Frank tilted his head ever so slightly, surprised that you weren’t immediately put off by his harsh demeanor and towering stature. After a moment of thought, he practically collapsed to the cushions, the exhaustion of the past few weeks crashing over him. He was acutely aware that he hadn’t been sleeping well, but he hadn’t realized the ache that had settled in his bones until now.

You retreated to your kitchen, pulling a tin of cookies out of your pantry and offering them to Frank. “As a thank you for your assistance: my world-famous chocolate chip cookies.”

Gently lifting the tin from your hand, Frank felt the corner of his mouth quirk down at the thought of mooching off of you when you’d just met. “It wasn’t any trouble. I don’t want to take your food.” He grumbled, eyeing the tin for a moment before you groaned.

“You’re killing me here, Frank. Indulge me, please!” Your eyes flickered between the tin and his grumpy face pointedly. He rolled his eyes, pulling a cookie from the box.

The cookie was truly one of the best things Frank had ever eaten. Soft and buttery with a sprinkle of salt on top. He finished the treat in three bites, licking his fingers before your giggling reminded him that he was being observed.

“So…are they sufficient payment?” A shit-eating grin appeared across your face and Frank felt his mood lift even further despite his brief embarrassment.

Popping his thumb out of his mouth, he felt himself flush. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

You waved a hand, brushing aside his embarrassment. “Oh please, I’m just glad you liked it! Half the reason I bake for other people is for the compliments.”

“You deserve them. That was…a damn good cookie.” Frank rubbed a hand over the back of his neck but you seemed completely unphased by his stiff social skills. “What’s in that box?” He nodded to the opened one in front of your couch, snatching another cookie from the tin.

“Well, I moved in a few weeks ago and didn’t have the foresight to order my furniture in advance. So,” you spread your arms, gesturing to the myriad of tools and wooden pieces on your floor. “Tonight is night one of furnishing my apartment.”

“That seems…like a real chore.”

“Oh it is. But I’ve been sleeping on a mattress on my floor for three weeks, so I sort of need a bed frame. Like ASAP.” You narrowed your eyes at the box in the other room like it had bested you in a fight.

“Did ya, um, did ya want some help with…” Frank trailed off, gesturing to your inanimate foe.

“Oh gosh, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I wouldn’t wish IKEA furniture on my worst enemy.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“Ain’t a problem, if you’re ok with me snackin’ on those miracle cookies while I work.”

“Ok, one:” You began, holding out a finger. Frank bit a lip to keep from laughing. Bossy little thing, aren’t ya? “You can eat all of those cookies if you help me build that motherfucking thing.” A boisterous laugh burst out of Frank at your pretty mouth cursing so openly. “And two: you will be snacking on them while we work because I would actually be the devil if I made a sweetheart like you build the hellscape that is the ‘Songesand’ all on your own.”

“Trust me, I’m no sweetheart.”

You grinned at him. “We’ll see about that, sweetheart.”

Hours and an empty tin of cookies later, you were ready to call it quits.

“If this bolt doesn’t tighten all the way, I swear to God I am going to lose it.” You pouted dramatically, dropping the pieces you were attaching to the floor with a clatter.

Frank huffed a tiny laugh. “Lemme see.” Inspecting the piece, he unscrewed the bolt a tad and tightened it with ease. You groaned.

“I swear it was broken a second ago. Are you a witch or something?” You flopped to the ground with a sigh, looking up at him through thick lashes.

“Nah. Just good at building things, I s’pose.”

“Well, I really appreciate your help. Can I cook you dinner? As a thank you?”

“I don’t wanna overstay my welcome…” Busying himself with the furniture in front of him, he avoided your studious gaze.

“It’s not a big deal. And it would actually encourage me to eat today.”

Frank whirled to face you. “You haven’t eaten today?”

You shrugged, “Yah, I tend to get distracted.”

“That ain’t good for ya.” Frank sighed, trying to decide what the priority should be. “A’right. If it’ll make ya eat, ya can cook for me.”

You smiled, your eyes catching his with a soft gaze. “That’s so sweet of you.” And, with that, you bustled away to start dinner.

Throwing himself back into the task at hand, Frank had your bed frame assembled and was pulling your mattress onto it in no time. Brushing his hands together, he returned to the living room, tidying up the scraps of cardboard and styrofoam littering the ground.

“Frank, please sit down! You’ve just saved me hours of work, I can clean up.” You raised your voice so he could hear you from the kitchen.

“It’s no trouble.”

“Dinner’s ready anyway. Sit, please!” You encouraged, handing him a bowl of some delicious smelling pasta.

Eagerly digging in, Frank almost moaned at the first bite. “How are you so good at this?” He asked, stuffing another forkful into his mouth.

You giggled, “Culinary school, and years of practice.”

“Culinary school, huh?”

“Yah…” You laughed a little sadly, moving the pasta around in your bowl. “I’ve always liked cooking and I had this crazy dream of opening a bakery a while ago.”

Frank swallowed, forcing himself to continue the conversation even though he could feel himself blushing at his inability to talk like a normal fucking person. “You’re really good at it. What happened?”

Stiffening slightly next to him, you waved off the question. “Oh you know, killer capitalism and all that. But, I work in a cafe which means I get to bake to my heart's content without all the nitty gritty business stuff. Like taxes.” You made a face at the thought and Frank snorted.

Finishing his dinner, he noticed you studying him again. It had been a while since someone had shown such genuine interest and care towards him. His heart fluttered in a way he hadn’t felt in years, and it struck a nerve. Minuscule grin falling from his face, he stood abruptly.

“I gotta go.”

“Oh, ok.” He didn’t dare look at your face and risk seeing it fall.

Pacing to your doorway, he turned towards you marginally. “Thanks for the food.”

“Thank you for giving me a platform to sleep on tonight. You’ve saved my hips a world of pain.” Your smile was small but genuine. You seemed almost…hesitant. As he was about to tread down the hallway to his own place, you wrapped him in a sudden embrace. “Have a goodnight, Frank.”

His heart tugged, insisting that he return the embrace, but he couldn’t risk it. Instead, he squeezed your shoulder and quickly headed home.

After another night of restless sleep, he woke up in an even fouler mood than before. Yanking the door open on his way to work, he almost stomped over a package sitting on his doorstep. Given that it was just past 5 in the morning, he was a little suspicious of the bag at his feet. Gingerly picking it up, he turned it around and, despite himself, broke into a small smile.

The brown paper bag had a handwritten note, “Don’t be a stranger, Sweetheart” with your signature and phone number underneath. Stapled to the present itself was a brochure for one “Rainy Day Bakery”, complete with pictures of your smiling face surrounded by other employees. Feeling his shitty mood melt away, just a little, he opened the bag and found a short stack of fresh chocolate chip cookies. He sank back against his door, closing his eyes.

Screw it.

Twirling around the kitchen, softly singing the lyrics to the song playing overhead, you placed your tray of bread into the oven.

“God. You’re worse than usual today.” Your coworker, Stacy, groused, hefting a giant sack of flour up onto your prep table. You laughed at her, nudging her shoulder.

“It’s a great day, Stace! It’s beautiful outside and we’ve had steady business all morning. Plus, Janet is letting me try out some new flavors this week and I am stoked!” You squealed.

“How did I ever become friends with morning people,” She fake gagged and you smacked her.

“You love our exuberance, don’t lie.”

“Yah, yah. Whatever.” She rolled her eyes.

“Did someone call for a morning person?” Your other primary coworker, Leo, entered the room with a dramatic spin.

“The only thing worse than one of you, is both of you. I’ll take the counter.” Stacy mumbled, stalking back out to the front of the store. You and Leo giggled after her, knowing she was hiding a smile.

“So, what’s on the docket for the rest of the day, princess?” Leo positioned themself at the stainless steel bench next to you, looking ready to take on whatever weird ideas you threw their way.

“I’m thinkin’ more classic cheesecakes, those did well last week. Then maybe lemon meringue bars or key lime minis? Something citrusy. Thoughts?” You tilted your head, awaiting their response.

“Let’s do the lemon pie shortbread bars. Those are always popular. You want to prep the dough, I’ll start juicing?”

“You read my mind.” Whipping out the ingredients, the two of you danced around each other in a practiced waltz. You’d been friends since culinary school and had pretty much been a package deal for every employer afterwards. You acted as a well oiled machine, and the cafe was booming because of it.

As you gently pressed large wads of shortbread into pans, Stacy poked her head back through the staff door, breaking your focus. “Someone’s here for you, princess.”

Scrunching your brow, you shouted over your shoulder. “I told her I didn’t have time to grab lunch this week.”

“It’s not your mom. It’s some guy. Says he’s your neighbor?”

Your hands stilled. “Yah, ok, I’m coming, Stace.” Scooting past Leo—and their eager, teasing grin—you gave them a pointed look. “Stop it.”

“He came to visit you. At work.” Leo singsonged.

“It might not even be him.”

Leo rolled their eyes back to the pot in front of them. “It’s him.”

Traipsing after Stacy into the customer portion of the cafe, your face broke out in a massive smile as you saw Frank at the register. His arms were crossed and he looked nervous, eyes shifting around, trying his best to avoid Stacy’s cold gaze.

“Hey, Frank! Welcome to Rainy Day! What can I get ya?” You placed your hands on your hips and looked at him with excited expectation.

“Coffee?” You giggled at his simple response which made his blush deepen. “I uh, shit, that sounded stupid. I don’t know…”

“It didn’t sound stupid, sweetheart. I was just thinking about how nice it is to not have to make a super complicated drink. Stace can you get me a large cup of the dark roast. I’m assuming hot and no cream or sugar?” You looked at Frank, waiting to see if your prediction was correct.

“Fuck, am I that obvious?” He groaned, his face beet red as he avoided your eyes.

“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying the simple things, Frank.”

Stacy passed over the drink. “2.50.” She stated with no emotion, feigning disinterest in the conversation. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw her giving Frank a subtle once-over.

Frank passed over a ten. “Keep the change.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet! Thank you,” your lopsided grin was a permanent fixture whenever he was present. It was going to be the death of him. He’d do anything to make you keep that smile.

“I—um, wanted to visit your cafe, since you asked me to, I mean—“

Your smile softened as his nervousness peaked. “I appreciate the visit, Frank. Come by anytime. Oh! Before you go, actually,” You fluttered off, daintily grabbing a pastry from the case to your left. You handed him a beautifully decorated confection, but your signature smile held a tinge of anxiety. You clearly cared about his opinion, he wasn’t really sure why.

“I, uh, didn’t order this.” Frank announced gruffly, holding the pastry in his hands as if it was trying to bite him.

Rolling your eyes, you laughed cheerfully, “I know, silly. You think I’m going to let you leave without breakfast?” Hands back on your hips, Frank felt a familiar warmth bloom as an almost imperceptible smirk flickered across his mouth. Bossy.

“Are you really chastising me for skipping a meal after what you said yesterday?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“Do as I say, not as I do.” You shrugged, looking between him and the pastry. “Well? Don’t leave me hanging!”

“Are you always this demanding?” Frank scoffed with a slight twinkle in his eyes.

“Yes.” Stacy and Leo called in unison, making you gasp in false betrayal.

“Fine, I’ll eat it myself.” You held out your hand to retract the pastry, but Frank drew it closer to himself.

“Never said I wouldn’t try it, Sunshine.” Your exaggerated pout nearly disappeared at the nickname. “Pretty sure you’ll pop your lid if I don’t.”

He took a bite of the pastry, savoring the incredible combination of flavors. “‘S real good, what is it?”

“Baklava inspired croissant. It’s something new I am trying and you strike me as someone who wouldn’t be satisfied by my whimsical ideas alone. You’re…honest, it’s nice.”

Taken aback, Frank hesitated before swallowing his mouthful. “I…uh—thanks.” His voice was soft. He wasn’t quite used to receiving compliments about anything other than his ability to end a life.

“Sorry if I was too pushy, a lot of the people who come in here are more concerned with their hipster image than truth. It’s nice to have someone who gives their actual opinion on my work, is all.” You bit your lip, eyes trained on his.

“I was just teasin’, Sunshine. You can boss me around whenever you want.”

You grinned. “I think I’ll take you up on that, Frankie.” You winked, making him chuckle.

“Oh, you’re a handful, aren’t ya?”

“No turning back, Frank. You’re my friend now. Ask my coworkers, I’m not easy to get rid of.” You batted your eyelashes at him and he shook his head, looking to Stacy and Leo behind you.

“Trust me, I’ve tried.” Stacy gave a tremendous sigh and Leo shoved her.

“Well, thanks. For the…coffee and stuff.” Frank ended with, lamely.

“I’m glad you liked the pastry! If you ever want to be my guinea pig, let me know. I’m pretty sure my friends are tired of me asking.” You chuckled, looking sheepishly at Leo and Stacy who gave dramatic nods.

“I’d uh…I’d like that.”

You beamed. “You’re a lifesaver, truly. Just text me if you’re ever up for trying things. You have my number now.”

“I do. I…uh, gotta run but…thanks again” Frank gave a curt nod to the three of you.

“Have a good day, sweetheart.” You waved him goodbye.

You were definitely going to be the death of him.

Your phone buzzed, startling you out of your post-work tv-induced trance.

Unknown: Hey. This is Frank. In case you need my number or whatever.

You: Hey Frank! Haven’t talked to you in forever 😉

Frank: Sorry to bother you

You: Don’t be silly. You could never bother me.

You: Are you hungry?

Frank: I guess? Why?

You: There’s a cute little Persian place that just opened a few blocks from here. I’ve been dying to try it but was too embarrassed to go alone. They allow dogs on the patio, if you and Max are interested?

Frank: Sounds good. Be over in a sec.

Your heart spun around in your chest. Dashing to your bathroom, you fiddled with your outfit and hair, reapplying makeup and adjusting your floral patterned dress. Catching your own eyes in the mirror, you scolded yourself. Frank wasn’t fully a stranger anymore, but you didn’t know much about him. He didn’t wear a wedding band, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t involved with someone. You were getting ahead of yourself. The knowledge that your efforts might be futile weren’t enough to make you wipe off your fresh coat of lipstick, though.

A knock at your door broke you out of your thoughts. Rushing to open it, you were spellbound. Frank had cleaned up, probably not for you personally, but your naive little heart couldn’t help but hope. His wavy hair was pushed away from his face and his beard had been trimmed. Wearing his signature dark jacket, he looked…marvelous.

Prying your jaw from the floor, you smiled at him. “You look really nice, Frank.”

“So do you, sunshine. Max was napping and refused to get up. Is it alright if it’s just us?”

“More than.” You grinned up at him sweetly.

“Lead the way, Sunshine.” His deep voice rumbled. You grabbed one of his large hands in both of yours (which definitely did not make him blush) dragging him to the stairs.

Frank knew he was treading a dangerous line. This was the 4th time in a week he’d seen you, but he couldn’t get enough. Your smile was intoxicating and your bubbly yet demanding personality was goddamn enchanting. For fuck’s sake, his hand that you had held still burned with warmth and he never wanted it to fade. He knew his darkness could ruin you, but he was defenseless to your lilting voice and endless optimism.

Which is how he found himself across from you in a quaint little spot a few blocks from your building. Strings of colorful lights spanned the perimeter. Apparently you knew one of the chefs because the kitchen had prepared a tasting menu of sorts for the two of you, and Frank was not above reaping the benefits of what you’d sown.

Dish after amazing dish was placed in front of the two of you and Frank was putting them away, you were eating less but seemed to be enjoying everything just the same. As you both moaned around a bite of a sort of lamb stew, your eyes twinkled.

“So, Frank, how was your day?” The question was eager and genuine. He was still taken aback by your desire to know him, to care about him.

“Fine. Yours?”

“My day was lovely! I made a couple of my favorite recipes and had a handsome visitor at the cafe. Now I’m having a fantastic meal. I’m a lucky gal.” Eyes still sparkling, they scrunched as you smiled.

“A handsome visitor, huh?”

“Oh you’d like him. He’s all tough and brooding, but I just know there’s a good man underneath all of that.”

“Ya just know, huh? What’s hiding underneath all that happiness of yours then, sunshine?”

“An overwhelming sense of curiosity.” You smirked at him. Your flirty tone traveled straight down in his being. Giving a breathy laugh, he deflected.

“How are you so…peppy all the time?” At his question, your seductive gaze faded to a much more solemn one.

“I don’t know, I guess it just became a habit… My, uh, my dad died. When I was young. My mom didn’t handle it well. So, it started as a defense mechanism? I suppose? But now…now it’s just who I am.” You averted your eyes, picking at the dish in front of you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be a downer.” You forced a small laugh.

“Hey,” Frank’s firm yet gentle tone forced you to look at him once again. “You’re not a downer. Anything ya wanna tell me, I’ll listen, yah?”

You nodded, smile coming back to the edges of your lips. “Thanks, Frankie.”

“Can I ask you another question?” When you nodded, he continued. “Do you put, like, crack in those cookies of yours? I swear you gave me an addiction, sunshine.”

A laugh escaped you and his heart soared. There’s my girl.

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