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vilgramcrimeandpunishment · 4 months

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Hikari’s First Voice Drama (Battle Arena)

E: *door opens* Hikari Ki—

H: *game over noises* Dammit! What a hassle gotta restart

E: Hikari Kimura?

H: *joystick console noises* What?

E: Your eyes didn’t even leave the screen…..can you look up?

H: Hang on….let me just reach a checkpoint first

E: Are your eyes glued to that switch? I said look up

H: I said wa—ACK!

H: *slaps him* I’m confiscating this console until the song extraction is over

H: Jesus Christ, what was that for?

E: I dunno, maybe not listening to your warden when your interrogation is starting?

H: Hardy har har, can I just have my game back?

E: The switch was provided to you by Vilgram, it’s technically not yours

H: What else do you expect me to do in this crappy place? No arcade, no playstation in the lounge, heck. Not even a gaming PC

E: This may surprise you, but prison’s don’t typically have gaming electronics. Be lucky we even accepted your request for the switch that rotted your brain

H: *groans* Whatever man…..can we just hurry this up so I can have it back? The sooner the song is extracted the sooner I can have that console back, right?

E: Yes yes. At least you want this over as soon as I do—immediately. Anyways, let’s begin. Hikari, how is life in Vilgram?

H: Well I already said that it was a crappy ass place. Mainly due to no gaming consoles or PC’s, so nothing really personal against ya, warden-san

E: Gaming seems to be all you ever care about. I take it you aren’t very close to many people here?

H: Ehhhh….not really. Kasumi sometimes talks to me. At least she ain’t as annoying as people like Akari or Masako

E: Annoying?

H: Akari is not mean or anything, but she acts like a child on a permanent sugar rush. And Masako….the way she just talks….it’s fucking annoying man. It’s not even flirting at this point, she probably just likes the attention. Cringe

E: Comparing Akari to a child and a hint of slut shaming towards Masako. Rude things to say, are they not?

H: I troll people all the time online, I really don’t care

E: Troll people?

H: Just assholes who annoy me. Like twelve year olds on Roblox or people shouting racist things on Xbox live. It’s kinda why I prefer Kasumi. She’s quiet and not problematic

E: Would you consider her the closest person to you here?

H: I guess…? Like….I’m not really the social type, but if I had to choose, I guess I would say Kasumi. But like…she probably has other people she hangs out with too, so eh

E: Besides Kasumi, Masako and Akari, what is your other opinions about the remaining six?

H: Daisuke is fucking creepy man, so I steer away from him. Haruto seems like a pushover, but he’s doesn’t cause trouble. So neat dude. Mai is pretty cool, but too extroverted for me. Kousei also seems chill, but I’m just not one for talking either him. Asuka seems like a kid, but she’s only four years younger than me. Kinda reminds me of a younger sister. She’s a bit headstrong, but I can tell she has a good head on her shoulders. Raiden is just some old geezer, so I don’t really care for him

E: Suprised you could form solid opinions considered you don’t leave your cell all that often

H: Eh, I technically did have to speak to people when Akari and Masako planned birthdays for Kasumi and Haruto. Still took my switch with me and only spoke when I needed something

E: I see. Do you have any rations in mind?

H: A gaming PC maybe?

E: Lets not get ahead of ourselves, Hikari Kimura

H: *groans* Whatever. At least the switch will do

E: No offense, but you’re starting to sound a bit of a spoiled brat

H: Heh, that ain’t the first

E: Hm?

H: You implying I’m a spoiled baby cause I care about gaming only? Cause computers and gaming consoles completely melted my brain?

E: I….suppose so

H: So you’re implying I was raised where a screen was my only source of entertainment, is that right?

E: Not necessarily. I’m just annoyed that you keep asking for your console back. You do know VILGRAM was not obligated to give you a switch. We did it out of—

H: The kindness of your non-existent heart?

E:….cause we wanted our prisoners to feel comfortable before trial 1 was officially over. But that’s a way to put it

H: So what happens if you vote me I forgiven? No gaming?

E: Nope

H: Awwwww, then my spoiled little ass can’t complain either cause my opinion will be worthless, right?

E: That’s technically true, but that’s such a way to address it

H: Cause it’s the cold truth, ain’t it? *chuckles* Whatever…..

E: Hikari?

H: Eh?

E: If you don’t mind me asking, did you really grow up on video games?

H: What kinda question is that? Yeah. How else did you think I turned out? Cause I buried my nose in textbooks at school and stared at a PowerPoint lecture for five hours?

E: Hmm…..

H: That I was some sorta honor student that didn’t skip class and all the professors worshipped the ground I walked on?

E: Hik—

H: Or how my mom just LOOOVVEEEDDDD anyone that was just so goddamn amazing and perfect at school, she’d only pay them mind if they were a super genius! That—

E: HIKARI!

H: !!!!

E: I felt like I was going crazy for a second…..no one said anything about academics. I just ask—

H: I KNOW!

E: !!

H: No one…..would’ve ever looked at me if I didn’t get above a fucking A or something….if I had to hear something about biochemistry or the electron transport chain or naming those groups in carbon atoms…..god, I would’ve just killed myself on the spot

E: I see…..not to be rude, but I take it you struggled a lot in school

H: What’s it to you?

E: Just information in gathering, Hikari. Rest assured, VILGRAM doesn’t care about your grades

H: Polite way of saying a suck ass at studying

E: I never implied that

H: Ya know there were textbooks in my cell before I got here? Ugh, what a joke. If you knew I sucked at studying I would've taken it as a nasty prank. But I guess it's fine

E: Textbooks...? Well, that was her cell....

H: Eh? Who's cell?

E: Nevermind, not important. What did you do with them?

H: I tried giving them to Kasumi, but it was middle school stuff. So I just threw them out

E: Like....in the trash can?

H: Noooooooo, up your ass--God, where did you think I threw them out?!

E: Tone down the snarkiness or else I'm gonna smack you again

H: Boooooo, I was lowkey hoping you'd call me a smart ass to be honest. The only context you'd ever call me smart

E: I hope you know I despise sarcasm, Hikari Kimura

H: Whatever….I still had to bust my ass off, ya know? No matter how much of a lost cause I was. If I could even claw my way to some great grade or something, I’d still never be as good as him

E: Him?

H: *laughs* The guy that was just SOOOOOOOOO amazing at school. Perfect grades, never missed class, went above and beyond at projects, president of national honor society, clean hair. Tch. He made me sick

E: A rival at school then?

H: Rival? Or just someone who I despised. I already told ya, I ain’t into school shit

E: Most people struggle at some sort of field at school, whether it’s academic or even sport teams or clubs. But they could find comfort in activities they excel in. Sometimes, those comfort things can immerse the person in such a way, its the only thing that matters to them

H: Hm? Warden, what are you—

(Bells chime, machinery whirls)

H: Wha—

E: Ah, it seems like it’s already time to extract the song. Already though? I feel like this interrogation went by quite fast

H: Does that mean…..I can have my gaming console back?

E: *sighs* And yet again, it’s all you care about….well, sure. But after you wake up

H: Wake…up?

E: You have to be asleep for the song extraction and when you wake up, the process will be over

H: *groans* How long is that exactly? Like…I’m not even tired man

E: Shouldn’t be longer than an hour

H: An hour? Ughhh…..that’s one less hour with Princess Avagrada

E:…..?

H: Oh, she’s the female protagonist of Queendom of Dominos, where the player has to save her subordinate, Silver Throne, in a time limit of two hours while exploring the depths and dark secrets of the dark castle that was once a glorious site in the land of—

E: I don’t care

H: *grumbles* Normie….

E: You’ll feel a slight punch on your shoulder but rest assured, after you’re unconscious, it won’t seem as if more than five minutes went by for you

H: Let’s just get this over with

E: Prisoner number 8, Hikari Kimora, sing your sins!

#milgram fan project #vilgram #vilgram: crime and punishment #ocgram #milgram oc

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renaerys · 3 years

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Okay I've got one: Prompt 15 with Reds. 🤣🤣🤣

15. “I can’t hear a word you’re saying, I just keep thinking about how good that mouth feels.”

Somehow they can make even breathing a competition.

Send me a prompt and some characters! Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we're getting creative here.

List of prompts

xxx

“So, we’ve called the paramedics and they’re on their way, but until they arrive it’s up to us. Remember the acronym, kids: C-A-B. What’s the first thing you do?”

Aiyeesha Simpson, a gunner in the making destined for academic greatness and social ruin, raised her eager hand. “Find a flat surface to lay him down!”

“Correct.” Blossom took Brick by the shoulders and shoved him down to the floor. A gaggle of Girl Scouts gathered around him as he wheezed for air.

“Ow,” he said.

Blossom patted his chest. “Please choke more quietly.”

I will end you, he thought so loudly he hoped she could hear him through the murder in his eyes. There was community service, and then there was cruel and unusual punishment. When his required hours were up and his record expunged, he was going to write a very negative Yelp review of the local Townsville Girls Scouts of America chapter and tank this year’s cookie sales. Supremely annoying, outrageously petty, and totally legal. That would teach Blossom for sure.

“Place your hands here between the nipples.”

Some of the Cadette Girl Scouts giggled. To be fair, Blossom of all people saying the word nipples in reference to her former mortal enemy as she trained a room full of twelve-year-old girls in CPR using him as the dummy was a perfect storm of absurd and kinky that he did not see coming. And now he was giggling himself, because he was a teenaged boy who thought the word nipples was funny regardless of the very clear contextual cues, and that pubescent shame was on him, one hundred percent.

Blossom, an ancient and inconveniently attractive evil resurrected in a lab for the sole purpose of making his life miserable, did not appreciate his amusement. “Push hard at a rate of 100 to 120 compressions per minute. Remember to put your bodyweight behind it, like this.”

Brick flexed, and Blossom pushed against his heart like she was trying to crush it in her hands. Once, twice, three times she administered compressions, and Brick’s eyes glowed red with impotent rage.

“Assist Blossom with her CPR lessons to her satisfaction, and we can forget this ever happened,” Mayor Bellum had promised Brick when he lost his temper and blew up an (empty) ambulance. Butch didn’t need his Super stomach pumped no matter how much he drank, so the ambulance and the four-figure bill that came with it were completely unnecessary. This defense did not convince the mayor, however.

The promise of the bill forgiven and his record cleared—and the deterrence of Aiyeesha Simpson filming the whole thing to upload to YouTube later—gave Brick the strength not to eye beam Blossom in front of the children.

“Okay, who wants to try chest compressions on the dummy?” Blossom offered to the girls.

You evil bitch, thought the aforementioned dummy.

After the third little girl properly placed her sticky, little girl hands between his nipples, Brick had had enough. “Hey, I’m still dying over here. Can we move on already? Jesus Christ.”

“Of course.” Blossom smiled, and she had never looked more terrifying.

Brick hoped Butch was suffering. He hoped he was hung over so bad he couldn’t piss standing up. He hoped Butch tried going online only to find that Brick had disconnected the Internet and cut him off from all his online games and porn because fuck Butch and his weak-ass stomach.

“Who knows what the next step is? Maybe someone other than Aiyeesha this time?”

None of the other girls seemed willing to stick their hands up. The carpet under Brick had scorched where his power leaked out in his building resentment for this entire situation. The smell of burned polyester just made him feel even more powerless to stop this.

“No? Okay, well, remember the acronym. A is for airway. You want to be careful about a possible neck injury, so gently lift the chin…”

Blossom’s hands were not sticky like the Girl Scouts’ hands, but they were cold where they touched his skin and forced his head back.

“Are the paramedics here yet?”

Brick got a tight fist in his short hair for that one, and he considered it a small victory. “No. Something about a shortage of ambulances, apparently.”

Biiiiiiiitch.

God, he was going to destroy her so bad.

“Once you’ve cleared the airway and confirmed there are no obstructions—”

“Then you kiss!”

Some girls picked up the giggling again. Blossom, ever the professional, cleared her throat. “Mouth to mouth is a life-saving procedure and not something I’d recommend doing to someone you plan to kiss.”

Wow, great advice.

Some girls still giggled and whispered to each other. Brick had a sinking feeling that this was only going to end with his embarrassment: everyone knew that the cold judgment of pre-pubescent girls was the absolute worst type of judgment a person could suffer.

“Are you gonna show us?”

“Well, I don’t think I need to show you all how to breathe—”

“It’s in the manual! You have to demonstrate every step.” Aiyeesha waved the CPR manual, and Brick realized his misjudgment. She was no vapid goody two-shoes in the making, but a future Honors Student with a secret, a Work Hard Party Harder, an Ivy League Early Decision candidate with all of senior spring semester to slack off because no one was ever going to touch her 4.3 GPA.

Aiyeesha beamed a winning smile at Brick, and it was as chilling as Blossom’s.

Jesus Christ, there are two of them.

True to form, Blossom had never been able to defy a good instructions manual. “I suppose if it says so in the manual…”

Locking lips with Blossom was not a big deal. He’d done it before when they were kids, and he could appreciate the irony of a gesture meant to save his life this time rather than end it. She didn’t even try to mess with him by using her ice breath, just went through the motions as described in the instructions. The girls were disappointed with the lack of hormonal fanfare of it all, which was probably for the best. Leave it to Blossom to make mouth to mouth the sexless, medical act it was literally intended to be. He was almost upset, because it felt like she’d won something here, which could only mean he’d lost.

Disappointed but more educated than they’d been when they’d arrived two hours ago, the Girl Scouts dispersed after the lesson, leaving Blossom and Brick to put away the equipment they’d used.

She held a dummy torso, and she was looking at him with that pinched, constipated look she got when she was about to say something especially snobby. Instead, she surprised him. “Brick, thanks for being mature about it. I can honestly say you surprised me.”

He stared at her.

“I’ll talk to Mayor Bellum. I’m sure you’ve done enough to meet your hours quota.”

He had not fulfilled even half of his required community service hours and they both knew it.

“So yeah, thanks. I can finish up here if you want to leave.”

Was she trying to get rid of him? Why?

“Brick? Why are you looking at me like that?”

When Blossom was winning, he was losing. That was simply the way of the world. So, if she was losing, it could only mean he was winning.

“Are you listening to me?”

Brick smiled in what he hoped was a cool, sexy way if he imagined looking at anyone but Blossom. “I can’t hear a word you’re saying. I just keep thinking about how good that mouth feels.”

Blossom stared. “I’m sorry?”

He would make her sorry.

“Yeah, you’re a great teacher. I could really feel your passion for demonstrating the lesson correctly. With your mouth.”

Her staring intensified. “Did you.”

“Oh, yeah.” He leaned his hip against the table like he’d seen in the movies. It worked for Daniel Craig in Casino Royale, and that guy had convinced Eva Green. Iconic. “I could really feel you trying to save me.”

Where was Aiyeesha with her phone to film this? There was so little he could do to rattle Blossom as they got older, and while the challenge delighted him, it was also exhausting being constantly a step behind her. Was this truly her demise? Had he won the Teenage Experience? Was this poetic justice for how she’d once killed him with a mere kiss, only to suffer the same fate in turn? He could have cackled. This was better than trolling the Girl Scouts of America reviews, although he might still do that because it was a genius idea and he had always indulged his own genius ideas when they came to him.

So infatuated was he with his own self-fellating digression that he was slow to react to Blossom sidling up to him. Her hand was still cold on his chin, and it sent a shiver down his spine. “Shall I save you again?”

Brick’s dignity drained with his blood, which was an unfortunate side-effect of being a teenaged boy that he would just have to suffer. But winning was about recognizing one’s weaknesses and working around them. He leaned into her personal space. “Please.”

He wasn’t sure who kissed who first, but it was happening and all he could think was I am better at this than you and I hate you and also Do that again. He tried holding her waist, and she fought back with her fingers in his hair. Not one to be deterred, Brick tried some tongue but pulled back when he tasted thirty degrees below zero. He immediately went back in because he could feel her superiority, her Got you, you horny idiot, but the joke was on her because he liked her cold, always had when it was hot as balls out and he’d make up any excuse to pick a fight with her just for the chance to cool off.

The Girl Scout troop leader walked in on them competitively making out in the classroom like it was an Olympic sport and put an end to things, leaving them at a frustrating draw for now. They said barely a word to each other when Brick glared at the troop leader so bad she flustered and didn’t even question them before running out of there with some excuse about getting the wrong room.

Later that evening, Brick caved and changed the Internet password back just so Butch would quit whining at him. He Googled kissing techniques and spent the next hour and a half watching YouTube videos and reading GQ articles about How to Please Her Like a Champion, because he was a champion and a winner and he was not going to lose to Blossom in this. Not a chance.

This had to be what they meant when they said kill with kindness.

“I’m going to end you,” he muttered to himself as he read about the top ten highest voted movie kissing scenes, which he would then stream and commit to memory in order to be fully armed and armored for the next time he encountered Blossom alone in a classroom. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe during their shared free period.

Truly, he had the most genius ideas.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

#powerpuff girls #blossick #ppg reds #ppg brick #ppg blossom #powerpuff girls fanfic #september fic prompts #great pick Carrie!#this one was fun

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doc-pickles · 4 years

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the jolex college AU that literally no one asked for

Soooo I did a thing. I’ve actually had 90% of this in my drafts for awhile and I just decided to finish it today. (nina you said you didn’t have any fics in your drafts. WELL I’M STUPID SO THERE’S THAT) I’m not planning on expanding this past a one shot but it’s a fun little AU that my mind kicked up one night while watching 14x15 and drinking too much sangria. It’s not polished up or beta read but I figured something is better than nothing :)

also TW// jo swears like a freaking sailor in this fic

“A fucking fire alarm? Really?!”

Jo Wilson was not one to be inconvenienced, especially not while she was in the damn shower. She let a groan out as the water above her shut off, probably an incentive to get her out of the building in case it really was on fire.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Jo muttered to herself, reaching for her towel. After wrapping it around herself, she realized that she hadn’t brought her clothes with her. “Oh you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Fuming with anger, Jo began to walk down the two flights of stairs to the ground floor and out the front door of Earl Hall. Various cat calls and whoops met Jo’s ears, but she was too angry with whoever the hell set off the fire alarm to acknowledge them.

“Wilson! You trying to give us a show here,” Jo turned at her name, staring down Andrew DeLuca as he attempted to get under her skin… or under her towel. “I wouldn’t say no to a free peep show.”

“Oh shove off DeLuca, you’ll fuck anything with a pulse,” Jo retorted, earning a howl of laughter from DeLuca’s friends. “I’ll show off the goods to anyone who can tell me who set off the fucking fire alarm while I was showering though.”

“That would be me.”

Jo whipped around, one hand coming to hold the bottom of her towel in place as she came face to face with the person who had effectively ruined her day.

She hadn’t met the man before, but Jo was instantly mesmerized. He wore a dark blue shirt and plaid boxer shorts, hair ruffled at odd angles and the beginnings of a scruffy beard appearing on his sharp jawline. The man was handsome and by God did Jo just want to fuck him right there and then.

Kill him. Kill him right there and then.

Jesus Christ Jo, pull your head out of your vagina.

“So you’re the asshole that set off the alarm,” Jo asked, eyebrow raising as if daring him to refute her words. “Well hi, I’m Jo and I’m fucking pissed at you.”

“I’m Alex and I really enjoy your talent for slipping the word ‘fuck’ into almost every sentence that comes out of your mouth,” Jo stared back at Alex, unamused by his joke. “Listen I’m sorry, I was trying to study for chem and my hot plate burned a hole through my notebook. You should be back in soon if it’s any consolation.”

As if by fate, the fire alarm stopped ringing and someone shouted that it was safe to go back in. Students began to file in but Jo and Alex kept their staring match going. She couldn’t tell if it was the mounting sexual tension between them or just plain old hostility, but Jo couldn’t tear her eyes away from the man in front of her.

“You’re on my fucking shit list Alex,” Jo stated firmly before walking away. “You better watch it!”

“Hey! You didn’t hold up your end of things,” Alex called out, causing Jo to turn back around and lift an eyebrow in question. “You said that you would ‘show off the goods’ to anyone who told you why the fire alarm went off. Well that was me.”

Jo paused momentarily, thoughts racing a million miles a minute before she moved closer to Alex and opened her towel up. Eyes wide, Alex immediately diverted his gaze away from Jo, not anticipating that she would actually flash him. With a satisfied smirk, Jo tucked her towel back into place and walked back towards the dorm hall.

“Have a good fucking night Alex!”

“If I never end up at another frat party it’ll be too soon,” Jo complained, swatting a hand away from her ass as she followed her roommate towards the kitchen. “Why’d you have to drag me out here, Hannah? You know Brandon trolls these parties looking for unsuspecting girls to trick into dating him so he can cheat on them a month in.”

Hannah looked at Jo with a bored expression, as if to say she was tired of hearing this story over and over again.

“We get it, you hate Brandon Thomas and everything he stands for,” Hannah rolled her eyes and handed a red solo cup to Jo. “But you realize that this is the Kappa house and Brandon is in Chi Omega. They’re sworn enemies, you’ll never see him here unless the planets align and someone’s sacrificed a virgin to the moon god.”

Jo rolled her eyes, lips coming to the cup and taking a large swallow of the jungle juice inside. She didn’t really know anyone at these parties, but there was always free alcohol and she had a pocket knife stashed in her bra in case she got into trouble.

“Jo, promise me you won’t kill me but Brandon is here,” Jo’s head whipped around to look at Hannah, eyes wide as she stared her roommate down. “He’s by the front door, just turn around and walk towards the backyard and you’ll never see each other.”

Jo eyed the back door, only 50 feet from where she was standing. She could definitely make it there without being noticed. Weaving through the crowd, Jo was positive she would get out without accident.

“Jo! Is that you?”

Brandon’s voice sounded over the crowd, making Jo cringe as she realized she had been caught. She looked around in a panic, almost yelling as a pair of arms slid around her waist.

“Just play along, I hate that douche bag too,” Jo looked up in shock, realizing that the person that had grabbed her was the guy who had set off the fire alarm last week. “Nice to fucking see you, Jo.”

“Oh you’re a piece of- MMM,” Jo was cut off by Alex’s lips pressing into hers. Jungle juice and adrenaline coursing through her veins, Jo presses back against him. Alex holds her against him for a minute more, one hand trailing to grab her ass while the other pulls her closer into his embrace. Her free hand unconsciously comes up to tangle in the curls at the nape of his neck and Jo swears she can feel him moan under the pounding sounds of bass music that surround them. Finally, after what feels like a lifetime, he pulls away with a crooked grin.

“Sorry, that prick Thomas was walking by, had to give him a show. You’re welcome.”

Alex walks away from Jo then, leaving her standing in the middle of a frat house party completely confused.

“Jo! I’m walking out the door but your alarm has been going off for 20 minutes!” Hannah slammed the door to the dorm room, abruptly waking Jo up. She looked to her bedside clock, groaning loudly as she realized that she had 15 minutes to get across campus to her 9:30 AM class.

“Well fuck,” Jo bemoaned as she rolled out of bed, grabbing whatever clothes were around her and throwing them on. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I can’t miss O Chem again. Fuck!”

Rushing out the door, Jo let her worn out sneakers pound across the pavement towards her Organic Chemistry class. It was only week two of spring semester and she couldn’t risk missing class for a second time.

Skidding into the lecture hall, Jo raced past a few students and slid into the back row of her class only five minutes late. She let out a loud breath, pulling her notebook out of her backpack as she tried to tune into the professor.

“You know you might be able to learn more if you show up on time,” Jo’s head snapped up as she looked to her left, realizing that the seat she had chosen was right next to Alex. “Funny seeing you here.”

“You have a lot of nerve trying to talk to me again after what you did at that house party,” Jo kept her eyes locked on her notebook, refusing to even glance at Alex as she started writing notes. “Even if you did save my ass, who goes around kissing strangers?”

“We’re not strangers. I know that your name is Jo and we live in the same hall and you smuggle cereal out of the dining hall when you think no one is looking,” Alex shrugged, eyes trained on the lecturer at the front of the hall. “And you’ve shown me your rack, I feel like that counts for something too.”

Side eyeing the man next to her, Jo watched Alex listening intently to their professor. He had a serious expression painted on his face, one that made him look years older than he was. Today he wore a forest green sweatshirt that bore the university’s wrestling team logo. Jo thought back to the first time she met Alex, remembering the way his shoulders and arms were built up more than anything else on his lean body. His dark hair and eyes that had instantly caught Jo’s eye seemed harsher under the fluorescent lighting of the classroom. This version of Alex that she was staring at today seemed so different than the Alex who accidentally set his chemistry book on fire and kissed her at a party to help her avoid her cheating ex. This Alex… well he seemed cold and unapproachable.

“Okay that only proves that you’ve been stalking me,” Jo rolled her eyes. “What do you want? Are you expecting me to sleep with you? Or help you with your homework? Because that’s a no on all of the above.”

“Nah figured you needed a friend,” Alex shrugged, pencil tapping against the edge of his textbook. “You seem like the lonely type.”

“I am not lonely,” Jo’s voice comes out louder than intended. Her next words are softer as she glares at Alex, their teacher and lesson long forgotten. “I’m just selective about who I spend my time with.”

She does try to concentrate on her work then, but Jo can feel Alex’s eyes boring into the side of her head. He frustrates her, angers her in a way that nobody has before and she can’t decide if she wants to punch him in the face or kiss him until she can’t breathe.

Wait what?

Jo shook her head, trying to clear out the image of a shirtless and sweaty Alex out of her mind. She was not going to start fantasizing about the handsome muscular man who’s lips felt like velvet against hers and who’s hand on her ass made her feel like-

“You’re drooling.”

Her hand flew up to her cheek, wiping at the small pool of liquid as her cheeks flamed red. She chanced looking over to Alex, who wore a shit eating grin that was slightly crooked. Damn it, keep it in your panties Jo!

“I was thinking about… dinner tonight,” Jo nodded, keeping her gaze forward. “Probably going to get… take out, something fast and easy.”

“Fast and easy, huh?,” Jo could swear that Alex’s voice took on a husky quality to it as he lowered his volume. An involuntary shiver ran up her spine as she futilely tried to calm the rising sensations in her body. ”That’s my favorite. For dinner I mean, I love it fast… and easy…”

Whipping her head around, Jo locked her eyes with Alex’s. The intensity of their stares almost scared her, but more than that Jo was desperate. She wanted this complete stranger (and total asshole) in the worst ways possible, her mind conjuring up images that would send her straight to Hell if she dared to say them out loud.

“I have no idea what the professor is talking about,” Jo admitted, eyes watching Alex’s lips as her tongue darted out wet her own. “But I really wanna get out of here.”

“If I fail this class because of you, you’re never gonna hear the end of it,” Alex was hastily shoving his books into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder as Jo rose and made a beeline for the door.

The pair ignored the stares they got from their classmates as they raced out the door, jetting into the empty hallway in a fit of giggles. Before she could comprehend what was happening, Jo found herself in Alex’s embrace. He pinned her against the wall, lips hungrily devouring hers as her hands fisted his hair roughly.

“Come on lover boy,” Jo smirked, hand tangling in Alex’s own as she broke apart from him and dragged him down the hall. “My roommate has classes for the rest of the day so my dorm is empty.”

#alex karev #jo karev #jo wilson #jolex #jo x alex #jolex fic #greys anatomy #greys fanfic #greys #jolex fanfic #nina writes

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sweetpea-cc · 6 years

Text

Pieces of Me (Part 3)

Summary: You are Y/N McCormick, the Northside Queen with a knack for defending yourself. Ultimately, too many warnings lead to being expelled from Riverdale High School and you transfer to Southside High where you’re immersed in a completely different life. Slowly, you become closer to Sweet Pea, along with the rest of the Southside Serpents while discovering the missing pieces of yourself.

Paring: Sweet Pea x Reader (ft. Riverdale Core Four, Toni) Warning: Language Word Count: 1.9k+

A/N: Your last name is McCormick for reasons which will be explained later. Also, this is a slow burn miniseries. :))

(Part 1) (Part 2)

After about fifteen more minutes of extended and 'I've heard all of this before" speech, Principal Wright finally allowed you to go back to class, which you grudgingly did so, this wasn't exactly how you imagined your first day going here at Southside but at the same time, you guessed things could have been worse. One thing you knew for sure, was that if the ghoulies had a reputation for anything, it was holding grudges, so you were definitely going to have to watch your back for the next few days, if not weeks.

When you walk out of the front office, you almost immediately feel a shadow loom over you and ball your hands up into fists, ready to fight what you assumed was another ghoulie.

Spinning around you nearly collide with someone who was at least half a foot taller than you. Stepping back, you try to play off your jump scare by focusing your attention on your books. It was the same guy who you had spotted in the hall with Toni earlier that morning. The cute Serpent.

"Jesus Christ, hasn't anyone ever told you not to sneak up on someone? Which one are you? Freaking pine tree or something?" You ask due to his incredible height and the way he towered over you reasonably well.

"That was an impressive feat you pulled back there, Barbie." His face was even more handsome up close to you, and you made a note of the way he seemed to always have a straight line or a smirk on his lips.

"I have a name, you know." You retort, rolling your eyes at the nickname that seemed to be running around Southside High.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" He inquired, completely ignoring your useless attempt of banishing that stupid nickname you were given.

"I train. Six days a week." Your reply was simple, and it was true, you did train nearly every day of the week, four hours a day. Your father had started teaching you self-defense, and how to turn multiple everyday items into a deadly weapon at the mere age of thirteen and to most people, that's cruel but you never saw it that way, if anything, you loved the feeling of adrenaline rushing through your veins after a sparring match or intense workout.

Your father had believed it was the best way for you to be protected whenever he was away for months at a time, and he was right about that, however, knowing how to adequately defend yourself tended to land you in the hot seat with school officials.

You decide to check the time, and you have a free period, and it was a strange concept here because what exactly were you supposed to do? You figured sitting outside reading a book, or something would suffice, but you just hoped that no one would bother you like they did at lunch.

From a short distance, you spotted Toni walking towards you with a smile on her face. So far, Toni was the kindest person you had met here, and it was reassuring knowing that you at least had one friend here, sort of, anyway.

"Hey! Is Sweet Pea bothering you?" She questioned, giving him a gentle shove. The height difference between the two was massive, while Sweet Pea looked like some gigantic pine tree, Toni, on the other hand, resembled a woodland creature compared to him. The very thought of that made you laugh out loud, and you were sure they knew the height difference was funny to most people.

"Nah, but someone should probably talk to him about sneaking up behind people. He's terrifyingly tall." This time it was Sweet Pea's turn to roll his eyes, cross his arms over his chest and commence a brooding look.

"We try, but it never sticks. Anyway, you should teach me the kick-ass move you pulled on the ghoulie!"

"Sure, why don't you come over sometime and I will."

"Really?"

"Yeah, why not? What's your number? I'll text you my address." Toni was more than happy to exchange numbers, and maybe it wasn't super smart to invite someone that you had only just met over, but you liked Toni, and after only knowing her for a few hours, she reminded you of Jughead, if anything, she was the female version of him. With a final smile in Toni's direction, you walk away from her, secretly hoping that maybe, just maybe, the two of you would be friends.

The rest of the day went by surprisingly slow, and at four in the afternoon, you were headed off to Pop's to meet up with Betty, Veronica, Jughead, and Archie to talk about how your first day of 'Southside Hell' went. You knew they were just waiting for the scoop on the infamous school, but apart from the creepy ghoulie, you actually had an excellent first day, which pleased you greatly.

Pop's was always your favorite place in Riverdale, then again it was to nearly everyone in the town, but that was expected. The site had been here since Riverdale was established and withstood decades peace and uprisings but no matter how old it was, it remained the same; same delicious food, same decorations, same music, and strangely enough, the same customers. In a way, it was Switzerland between the Northside and Southside.

You spotted your friends through the window, and they already looked deep into an intense conversation which caused you to roll your eyes for the umpteenth time today. You made your way to the diner and took a resident to the booth behind Betty and Jughead.

"Why are you baby trolls frowning so much?" You tease, momentarily distracting them from whatever was causing them to develop pre-mature wrinkles. While you loved your sleuthing and solving mysteries, sometimes you swore your friends went looking for some that weren't even there and often, that resulted in them being a very brooding bunch.

"We hit a dead end with the whole Jason Blossom mess," Jughead admits, yanking off his iconic hat in frustration, you knew that currently, the stakes were high and there were secrets that many people preferred to stay buried.

"As much as I totally support your fetish for trying to take down murderers, however, I must continue to ask that you don't involve me. Lord knows I'd never get my beauty sleep." It was spoken in a joking manner, but you were entirely serious because you were the type of person who, once you got started on something, you needed to finish it. That and you already had plenty on your plate with your sort of secret investigation of the Southside life which your dad had barred you from.

"Enough about us, how was your first day?" Veronica asked, tucking her black hair behind her ears. Pop then showed up at the table carrying four milkshakes of various flavors, and when his attention landed on you, his face broke out into a smile.

"You want your usual, Y/N?" He asked sweetly, and you couldn't help but mirror the same infectious smile on his face.

"Of course, Pop. Always." He nodded his head at you and disappeared behind into the kitchen, and you turn back to your friends, ready to tell them all about your 'adventurous' day at Southside. From the crazy energy surrounding the place to the mean little ghoulie, and over to your little conversation with the Principal.

"I met this girl, she's a serpent, but like honestly, she was one of the coolest people I've ever met, not to mention, she insanely gorgeous. And then there was this like freaking tall kid, he might as well be a pine tree or a beanstalk. But he was really adorable, and he seemed charming. Like really." You wink at Veronica and Betty who both smile and shake their heads at you as they busy themselves with their drinks. Archie, on the other hand, seemed to be slightly annoyed that you were talking affectionately or whatever about a few Southside Serpents.

"Oh lighten up, Archie. I was merely stating that they're pleasing to look at, that's not a crime, is it? Because if you want to talk about crime, you got another thing coming." His mouth forms a completely straight line, and it was evident that you were referring to his illegal, not to mention extremely gross relationship he shared with Ms. Grundy, the used-to-be music teacher at Riverdale High.

"I just want you to be careful around them Y/N, you have no idea what they're capable of." You weren't sure if he was referring to the Southside Serpents or if he was talking about Southside kids in general. It was funny to you considering his best friend was born and raised on the Southside. Pop Tate then came back carrying your favorite; vanilla milkshake with a side order of French fries to dip. You thank him sweetly and focus once again on your collection of strange friends.

"I'm always careful. I mean, have you met me?" Jughead twisted in his seat to face you, and you could tell he was probably annoyed. At you or over his little investigation, you weren't sure, but whatever it was, it was written all over his face.

"We're well aware of your ability to defend yourself, Y/N. I agree with Archie, I grew up on the Southside, and the Ghoulies are dangerous and unpredictable. From what you told us, you probably made yourself a target." His tone was snarky and bitter, but you knew he was saying this because he cared and you appreciated his concern. He paused for a few seconds before eyeing you suspiciously. "Besides, if I know you at all, I'd say you're quite happy being at Southside. Gives you a chance to work on the little project you've been slaving over for the past two summers."

"It's not a crime to want to know more about your history. You know very well that every time I try to bring it up, my dad shoots me down. So, I'm taking matters into my own hands. Do ya think your dad will let me into the Whyte Wrym?" Jughead, along with the rest of your friends look at you as if you had lost your damn mind and he wasn't afraid to the point that out.

"Are you insane? No. Jesus, Y/N, can't you just be happy with your life? You live in a freaking private mansion, and your dad is probably the richest man in Riverdale, if not the whole state. On top of that, you're envied by almost the entire study body. Stop trying to stick your nose where it doesn't belong." His sudden snap caused you to blink a few times and let out a low whistle. Betty, Veronica, and Archie just sat there silently, not wanting to mess with the tension that was starting to build up.

"That's really funny coming from someone who writes mystery novels and solves murders in his free time. And when did the amount of money my dad has become such a problem for you? I'm at Southside for one day, and you're suddenly acting like I've done a full 360 twist on my personality or something."

"Who knows, maybe that's exactly what's going to happen, why wouldn't it? It'll be a thematic experience; poor little rich girl finally gets a taste of the Southside of town but how long before you toss them out too? You tend to get bored easily."

"Oh, fuck you Jughead. Call me when my best friend decides to stop being a judgemental prick face." The tone of your voice was icy and filled with annoyance as you abruptly stood up from the booth, putting down enough bills to cover your meal before walking out of Pop's ignoring Betty and Veronica's calls.

A/N: I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS PART, THANK YOU OH SO MUCH FOR THE AMOUNT OF LOVE YOU’VE BEEN SENDING IN, MY HEART IS SWELLING WITH HAPPINESS, I LOVE YOU ALL

(Tag List:) @fafulous / @captainstilinskis / @yourwonderbelle / @the-greatt-perhaps / @alexparrsih / @imweirdhowareyou / @wolfpackcreative

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suzie-guru · 6 years

Text

Suzie’s Decidedly Non-Coherent Thoughts Regarding Trollhunters Season 3.

OKAY.

So I fully acknowledge I’ve been putting this off, but to be fair to myself, I am still in the midst of some pretty intensive training for this job, and also...

THERE WAS A LOT TO PROCESS WITH THIS SEASON.

LIKE, A LOT.

So this post will honestly be a hodgepodge of all sorts of things, and I’m pretty damn sure it won’t be the least bit coherent, but...I made a promise to y’all.

By far and away, A House Divided was my favorite episode, and that’s really fucking saying something because this Season was RICH with good episodes. I said it once and I’m saying it again, A House Divided is peak Trollhunters - I was breathless and shaking from the power and emotion of that ending scene. Trollhunters is a great show all around, but when it’s when it stops and allows the emotional weight and poignancy of Jim’s journey, all of the sacrifices he has made, to set in and gives its due course...it’s heartbreaking and it’s magnificent and so incredibly powerful.

Jim’s journey has never been an easy one, but episode hit me like a hammer to the heart - he can’t come back from this. His human life is effectively over. He’s giving up so much, so incredibly much, and he keeps on choosing to answer the call, give himself over again and again and again. This episode brought this all home, and my God, it was heart-wrenching.

I will admit, I was at first puzzled and a little upset that after everyone saying that it was Jim’s humanity that made him such a strong Trollhunter, suddenly that wasn’t enough. It felt like such a slap in the face. But if there’s one thing about Trollhunters that stays strong, it’s the theme of sacrifice. Jim sacrificing his right to have a normal life to be the Trollhunter the world needs, Draal sacrificing his arrogance and dreams to be the protector and friend of the Trollhunter, Strickler sacrificing his desire for power to be worthy of Barbara’s love and Jim’s trust...

Sacrifice isn’t easy. It hurts a hell of a lot at times. And that’s what makes Jim such an incredible hero. When all the pieces are down, he chooses to be selfless, to put the world above himself. He ends the life he wants to have the life that will save others. I can’t even put into words what that does to me...

Phew. Okay. Deeeeeep breath, Suzanne, and collect thyself. Now onto other things...

All the above being said, Merlin is a dick. Look, I get it - he sees the bigger picture, he cares but he has to look at what needs to be done. I understand that angle. But he’s still a fucking dick. And I’m not only thinking about how he manipulates treats Jim.

Yeah, I’m thinking about Strickler.

Who Merlin dismisses as Changeling before walking away...

Sure, Walter was groveling to him at that moment, but...Jesus Christ, you musty magic man. Yes, absolutely, look down like everyone else does upon the race that your goddamned pupil created - hell, you probably look down on them BECAUSE your goddamn pupil created them. Don’t stop to think about they had no choice in the matter, don’t stop to think about how YOU’VE could have helped them and turned them away from Morgana if you had stepped up and set an example of acceptance that other trolls could have followed. Dismiss them just like everyone else does. Let your own bitter disappointment about Morgana color your feelings to them. JERK.

ALSO. YOU WANTED A “CHAMPION WITH A FOOT IN BOTH WORLDS”!?! GOSH, I DON’T KNOW, MAYBE A FUCKING CHANGELING CHAMPION WOULD HAVE BEEN A BETTER SOLUTION THAN A POOR TEENAGER WHO JUST WANTS TO LIVE HIS LIFE AND LOVE HIS MOM AND COOK GREAT FOOD AND RIDE HIS VESPA. JUST AN IDEA, JACKASS.

Look, fuck Merlin. Just fuck him. Jim deserves to be a champion of someone SO much better. Merlin and Morgana are both using their champions as pawns although, to Merlin’s credit, he makes a point of opening Jim’s eyes and making it about Jim’s choice. But yeah, I’m gonna write a very cathartic fanfic featuring Barbara Lake giving Merlin all kinds of hell in regards to his gross negligence over the whole changeling thing...

Okay, what else...what could I possibly be missing...

Oh yeah!

STRICKLAKE.

Man, I was one happy camper this season after the decidedly dry spell of Season Two. And by “happy camper” I mean gloriously tortured, but I figured you would gather that.

So many good things, so many gorgeous scenes! Walter on gravesand being brought back by his love for Barbara, his UTTER NERDNESS nervousness and psyching himself up with French (THIS FUCKING DORK) to talk to her again, Barbara being a MAJOR FUCKING ARTIST (MY GIRL IS SO TALENTED) and trying to cope with Walter running off, Walt being tempted by Morgana!Barbara (oh my god my son my son be strong my son but at the same time THIS SHIT IS ALL THE FLAVORS OF MY JAM)

AND THEN THAT SCENE IN THE MUSEUM?!

(HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT WE GOT A MOONLIT FLIGHT MY STRANGE MAGIC HEART WAS QUAKING WITH JOY AND I MAY HAVE MURMURED “THE MOONLIGHT IS PERFECT RIGHT NOW”, DON’T JUDGE MEEEEEE)

Okay, one big ass complaint though:

WE DID NOT GET A SCENE BETWEEN WALTER AND BARBARA WHERE SHE LETS HIM KNOW SHE REMEMBERS EVERYTHING.

...WTF?!?

On one hand, this is perfect fanfic fuel.

On the other hand, WE WAS ROBBED.

Also, did she just tell the other parents that he was in on everything? How on earth did that go down? I’M SO CURIOUS.

THAT PLAY. THOSE FUCKING DORKS. DICTATIOUS BEING ROPPED INTO IT AS WELL. THE FACT THAT WALTER ACTUALLY CHANGED INTO HIS TROLL FORM FOR IT. I’m super confused, did the other parents (aside from Barbara, obviously) think it was makeup or what?

Meanwhile Walter’s just like “fuck it it might as well happen at least Barbara let me into her house I’ve sat through parent teacher conferences with these plebs before I can handle doing this rag-tag-ass play”

AND THEN!

Okay, I fucking CALLED Usurna pretending to be Barbara as soon as she pretended to cower next to Walter. BARBARA LAKE IS NOT ONE TO COWER, YOU STONY BITCH.

“My life is not worth the world!” “...It is to me.”

*Regina: Stricklake*

*The Heart She’s Holding: Mine*

then...

“May the world forgive me. For without you, there is no world!”

I’M OKAY, I’M FINE, I SWEAR I’M FINE.

Okay, what else...here’s a random run-down:

THAT LAST FIGHT SCENE WAS STUNNING. Like, granted, the animation is always good, BUT HOLY HELL, THAT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL AND BREATHTAKING, EVERYTHING WAS CHOREOGRAPHED SO WELL.

Walter FINALLY coming back to his rightful place of being Concerned Instructor/Father Figure to Jim. “Young Atlas, you are not alone! Don’t do this! Open the door!”

(I was literally eating ice cream during this moment, this gif is all too real).

STEVE AND ELI’S REACTION TO NOMURA WAS A BLESSING. LIKE, AN HONEST AND TRUE BLESSING. WE GOT THE SLOW MOTION AND MUSIC AND EVERYTHING.

Oh fuck oH FUCK, I JUST THOUGHT ABOUT NOMURA’S REACTION TO FINDING OUT ABOUT DRAAL’S DEATH

OOOOOOOUUUUUUCH

Okay, enough pain...

(for now)

ANGOR REDEMPTION. WE HAVE BEEN BLESSED.

So I had seen that Walter had wings in the concept art of the show, but I was under the impression that they had decided to forgo that. COLOR ME HAPPY WHEN IT TURNS OUT, NOPE, THEY DID NOT.

So can Walter just decide he’s feeling more like his knife cape today? I wonder how that works...

(totally not planning a fanfic exploring this and Walter wrapping his wings around Barbara like a cocoon)

((totally not))

(((she lied)))

“I think these kitties are from a bad neighborhood”

“B is for blender, fur ball.” BARBARA, MY SAVAGE SWEETHEART, FUCK ‘EM UP, FUCK ‘EM ALL UP, YES YES YES.

So I have personally figured out how I would solve Walter being stuck in his Troll form in my own fanfics (WHICH I AM SO EXCITED TO WRITE, OH WOW) but I’m pretty darn sure that there are multiple other ways for us to work with that (glamour masks, potions, et cetera et cetera...)

I’m pretty damn sure that Barbara and Walter AREN’T gonna be raising all those babies, but you never know. I personally like the idea of them seeking out adoption centers over the world (Walter knows them because of his work with the Janus Order), but then they decide to raise the REAL Strickler as their own.

YES I HAVE A FANFIC PLANNED DO NOT JUDGE ME

And yes, I’m sure I am not alone in this, but I let out a soft sob when I saw that dedication to Anton. Rest In Peace, darling.

What else...

Oh yeah:

Jim’s Troll form is hot.

There, I’ve said it.

So yeah, this is all just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to my emotions over this show, especially with the fact that it’s officially over. But yeah...what a beautiful and brilliant ride. I couldn’t have asked for me.

...except an on-screen Stricklake kiss.

But that’s what fanfic is for.

#trollhunters #trollhunters season three #trollhunters spoilers #yeah I'm still a mess #I ain't apologizing

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hgfstreamchats · 4 years

Text

Cry Baby Lane

thenightetc 08:25 PM hELLO!

thenightetc 08:25 PM ...*Hello!

highglossfinish 08:25 PM Hello!

thenightetc 08:27 PM No sound--or rather the sound seems to be a mic

highglossfinish 08:27 PM Better?

thenightetc 08:28 PM Same.

highglossfinish 08:28 PM Now?

thenightetc 08:28 PM There we go!

highglossfinish 08:28 PM Excellent!

thenightetc 08:29 PM Why indeed.

highglossfinish 08:30 PM Spor.

Starscreamillar joined the party.

thenightetc 08:32 PM The narration is making me think this is a parody

thenightetc 08:32 PM Hello!

Starscreamillar 08:32 PM Greetings

highglossfinish 08:32 PM Just in time!

highglossfinish 08:32 PM Apparently it was real and meant for human children, and scared them all so much they never aired this again.

Starscreamillar 08:33 PM ... Crybaby lane.

highglossfinish 08:33 PM And it became something of an urban legend, but no, it was real.

Thebes joined the party.

thenightetc 08:35 PM Hmmm.

Starscreamillar 08:35 PM This soundtrack is not inspiring fear.

Thebes 08:35 PM brings back memories tho

highglossfinish 08:35 PM No, no it is not.

thenightetc 08:35 PM Does the video keep pausing for anyone else, or is it just me?

thenightetc 08:35 PM Not constantly, but frequently

Thebes 08:36 PM not for me

Starscreamillar 08:36 PM It seems to be running fine for me?

thenightetc 08:36 PM On my end, then. Bah

thenightetc 08:36 PM I'll close a thing or two

highglossfinish 08:36 PM So will I, just to be sure.

thenightetc 08:37 PM Nah, I doubt it's to do with you

Thebes 08:37 PM such scintillating dialogue

thenightetc 08:38 PM This guy's a real winner

thenightetc 08:38 PM Gee I wonder if anything bad's going to happen to big bro there

Starscreamillar 08:38 PM The xylophone really sells it.

highglossfinish 08:39 PM Sobbing mutilated freak infant ghosts and xylophones. That's the kind of movie we're in for.

thenightetc 08:40 PM Yech.

thenightetc 08:40 PM Why does that tombstone look like a dick

thenightetc 08:40 PM Who is buried THERE

highglossfinish 08:40 PM Someone fun.

thenightetc 08:41 PM That one in particular looks about 20

Starscreamillar 08:42 PM If a teenage boy invites you to the cemetary after dark, there is a 50% chance he will try to steal your skin.

highglossfinish 08:43 PM And a 50% chance he'll try to steal your bones.

thenightetc 08:43 PM hahahah

highglossfinish 08:43 PM What an unpleasant bunch of children.

Starscreamillar 08:43 PM I hope someone steals their skin.

Thebes 08:44 PM I mean, at least some part of them would be of use

Thebes 08:45 PM STOCK SCREAMS

thenightetc 08:45 PM ikr

thenightetc 08:45 PM PFFF

thenightetc 08:46 PM "maybe we should go"

highglossfinish 08:46 PM Back to the surfer music.

thenightetc 08:46 PM "maybe someone else was out here with a hidden speaker?"

Starscreamillar 08:46 PM Glowing worms love surfer music.

thenightetc 08:47 PM So is the twist that the evil twin is the one buried there :thinking:

Starscreamillar 08:47 PM Perhaps they were both evil twins.

highglossfinish 08:48 PM The real evil twin was inside of us all all along.

Thebes 08:49 PM I gotta narrate out loud

Starscreamillar 08:49 PM That would check out.

thenightetc 08:50 PM aw, no

thenightetc 08:51 PM Now I'm all sad because the dog's clearly a goner

highglossfinish 08:52 PM Bring back the dog!

thenightetc 08:52 PM being possessed or whatever

thenightetc 08:53 PM Jesus christ.

highglossfinish 08:53 PM I hate humans.

thenightetc 08:53 PM oh yeah the wind always sounds like crying children

Starscreamillar 08:54 PM Who does not enjoy scaring children?

thenightetc 08:54 PM Sigh.

thenightetc 08:54 PM Yeah we got that.

highglossfinish 08:56 PM Well put, human baby.

thenightetc 08:56 PM Haha, what.

Starscreamillar 08:56 PM What is with these worms?

highglossfinish 08:57 PM And why do they sound like some universe's variant of Starscream?

thenightetc 08:57 PM carl's gonna get his ass kicked by a ghost

Starscreamillar 08:57 PM I resent that.

highglossfinish 08:57 PM You know it's true.

Starscreamillar 08:57 PM Just because it's true does not mean I have to like it.

thenightetc 08:57 PM There, there.

thenightetc 08:58 PM Wait... is his buddy like 7?

Thebes 08:58 PM wow. WOW

Starscreamillar 08:59 PM Oh no...Oh it just keeps getting worse.

thenightetc 08:59 PM Jeez

highglossfinish 08:59 PM Somehow, it just keeps getting worse.

Thebes 09:00 PM what a mature, parental response

Starscreamillar 09:01 PM Is this just ghostly mischief because some idiots said nonsense at a random grave? That's the whole movie?

thenightetc 09:01 PM Guys.

Starscreamillar 09:01 PM And then they were killed by a train.

highglossfinish 09:01 PM While surf music plays.

thenightetc 09:01 PM Don't play chicken with a train.

thenightetc 09:01 PM It can't stop.

Thebes 09:02 PM WE HAVE WORM SIIIIGN

highglossfinish 09:02 PM This is a horrible town full of unpleasant people and I want to see every last one of them dead.

thenightetc 09:02 PM Er...

thenightetc 09:02 PM So it can possess multiple people?

thenightetc 09:03 PM Walk without rhythm!

Starscreamillar 09:03 PM That is an unrealistically spacious grave.

highglossfinish joined the party.

thenightetc 09:04 PM Look, sometimes you just have to spring for the extra large coffin.

highglossfinish 09:05 PM One of the perks of kast was that I never had to worry about losing the stream chat, and yet here we are.

thenightetc 11:05 PM I've got it.

thenightetc 11:05 PM No worries!

thenightetc 11:06 PM "Sure, I COULD go missing for our missing children, but what if I DIED?"

highglossfinish 11:06 PM Scratch that, I no longer hate humans.

thenightetc 11:07 PM Ohhh dear

highglossfinish 11:07 PM I can see why this was never aired again, but not because it was in any way frightening.

thenightetc 11:07 PM Same.

Starscreamillar 11:08 PM Why is not a strong enough word for this.

highglossfinish 11:08 PM Nothing about any of this is right.

thenightetc 11:08 PM Wut.

thenightetc 11:09 PM "You know. For a dead guy."

thenightetc 11:10 PM Sure, whine about the cost AFTER you've gotten the service.

Starscreamillar 11:10 PM Stiffing the funeral home seems like a good way to get tossed in a pauper's grave when it's your turn.

thenightetc 11:11 PM Ha.

thenightetc 11:11 PM You called it.

thenightetc 11:11 PM "well, it said 'muller' right on the tombstone"

highglossfinish 11:12 PM ...

thenightetc 11:12 PM Wow. Who could have guessed.

Thebes 11:13 PM oh, it SOUNDS bad, does it

Thebes 11:13 PM SEEMS LEGIT

Starscreamillar 11:13 PM Raising the dead caused a problem... surely raising more dead will make things better!

thenightetc 11:13 PM f

thenightetc 11:14 PM "what did HE say happened"

thenightetc 11:15 PM So he's just going to leave it at that, huh, not going to give his side

thenightetc 11:15 PM with the bull and the train and all

Starscreamillar 11:16 PM We know he is evil, he was watching atomic explosions for fun.

Starscreamillar 11:17 PM That is stupid.

highglossfinish 11:18 PM All of this is stupid.

thenightetc 11:18 PM Surely the reason not to cut too close to the stone is that you could damage the blade or cause an accident

Starscreamillar 11:19 PM Please, murder him with a paperclip. It would be funny.

Starscreamillar 11:20 PM Drat.

thenightetc 11:22 PM Wait, why not have the older guy do it

thenightetc 11:22 PM watch the ROAD, idiot

Starscreamillar 11:23 PM What even is this movie?

thenightetc 11:23 PM Also, guys. It's a hearse. There is probably only one in town.

thenightetc 11:24 PM It is very recognizable, is what I'm saying.

highglossfinish 11:24 PM This movie has very little to do with a baby ghost.

thenightetc 11:24 PM Damn, is everyone in town possessed by an evil ghost

thenightetc 11:25 PM That's fair.

thenightetc 11:26 PM Oh shit, are they going to get the cop hit by the train

Starscreamillar 11:27 PM How convenient.

thenightetc 11:27 PM Yeah but your brother was already a shithead.

Starscreamillar 11:28 PM Hit him with the car.

rose110 joined the party.

thenightetc 11:29 PM But this is like... a cornfield?

thenightetc 11:29 PM Wouldn't it get cut every year?

LetsCum joined the party.

thenightetc 11:30 PM Let's not.

thenightetc 11:30 PM I love how the harvester was just... ready to go.

thenightetc 11:31 PM f

Starscreamillar 11:31 PM Swathers love the taste of human meat.

thenightetc 11:31 PM God, it's like they're going to start a musical number.

Thebes 11:31 PM oh, right, teen girl squad.

thenightetc 11:32 PM "uh, the evil ghost that is clearly possessing all of you"

highglossfinish 11:32 PM This is uncomfortable.

thenightetc 11:33 PM Very

thenightetc 11:34 PM God, what if the magic plant in question was like, the tree

thenightetc 11:34 PM Good luck pulling THAT up!

Starscreamillar 11:37 PM Who wrote this, and why did they think it was a good idea?

thenightetc 11:38 PM lol really

Thebes 11:38 PM I could not begin to guess

thenightetc 11:39 PM "why, does it look like something happened"

highglossfinish 11:40 PM Charming.

highglossfinish 11:40 PM And very stable.

thenightetc 11:40 PM What a great sibling relationship.

Starscreamillar 11:40 PM That would be murder.

Starscreamillar 11:41 PM And this was a weird movie. Even for awful children's movies.

highglossfinish 11:41 PM I don't think the world was missing much when this was considered a "lost film."

highglossfinish 11:42 PM Hmm, Let's Game it Out seems to be on a hiatus. Any suggestions to close on?

Thebes 11:42 PM what's the bakery that only brrings pain

thenightetc 11:43 PM Also, https://pastebin.com/rMN8akyA

thenightetc 11:43 PM Oh!

thenightetc 11:43 PM Just a sec

thenightetc 11:43 PM https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=blcKeLDDzSM and

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eUD3P4MGmb0

highglossfinish 11:44 PM Thank you!

thenightetc 11:47 PM See? It's thematic!

Thebes 11:47 PM they're just trolling him, aren't they.

highglossfinish 11:48 PM Dear Unicron.

thenightetc 11:49 PM I'll BET it was popular.

Starscreamillar 11:49 PM Ken is wearing a lot of eyeshadow.

highglossfinish 11:50 PM I'll say.

thenightetc 11:50 PM They invited two out of those three back.

highglossfinish 11:52 PM That one's Smokescreen.

thenightetc 11:52 PM Gotta specify it's a dry kiss.

highglossfinish 11:53 PM Very important.

highglossfinish 11:54 PM Amazing.

thenightetc 11:54 PM Right?

Thebes 11:55 PM did we ever end up watching the second What's That Name skit?

Thebes 11:55 PM Norman the Doorman

Thebes 11:56 PM omg

thenightetc 11:56 PM Well, there WAS a terrible sequel.

Thebes 11:57 PM also, we are getting a cartoon prologue

highglossfinish 11:57 PM Are we really?

thenightetc 11:57 PM Oh... good........

highglossfinish 11:57 PM That could certainly go either way.

Starscreamillar 11:57 PM Indeed..

highglossfinish 11:57 PM "Jaws-like movie."

Thebes 11:58 PM apparently it's about the adventures of young shop owner and how he comes into possession of Gizmo and supernatural shenanigans

thenightetc 11:58 PM Oh!

Starscreamillar 11:58 PM .... Hmm.

thenightetc 11:58 PM Up for https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U3Zq4Zbsrj8 ?

highglossfinish 11:59 PM Absolutely!

thenightetc 11:59 PM Yessss.

highglossfinish 12:00 AM I like where this is going.

thenightetc 12:01 AM This is what I intend to attempt the very instant I have a computer that can run Planet Coaster

thenightetc 12:02 AM I like the river of blood.

highglossfinish 12:02 AM I'm liking the stock photos.

Thebes 12:03 AM it's the exact right lack of fucks to give.

thenightetc 12:07 AM They're here for the cotton candy.

highglossfinish 12:07 AM Who wouldn't be?

thenightetc 12:09 AM Banker: so what do you need this loan for

Starscreamillar 12:09 AM Goo.

thenightetc 12:10 AM Could enjoy. You know, theoretically.

highglossfinish 12:10 AM On paper.

Thebes 12:11 AM possibly

thenightetc 12:12 AM My god.

highglossfinish 12:14 AM Stuffs.

thenightetc 12:15 AM Oh god.

thenightetc 12:17 AM You don't even have to take away the ladder!

highglossfinish 12:17 AM How efficient!

highglossfinish 12:17 AM "The most exciting thing since T."

thenightetc 12:19 AM

thenightetc 12:19 AM Can't imagine why someone would be nauseous from being turned upside down over and over for an hour!

highglossfinish 12:20 AM It's a mystery!

thenightetc 12:21 AM Not to actually ride it, of course. They just want to look at it.

thenightetc 12:22 AM There IS.

thenightetc 12:26 AM Heh.

highglossfinish 12:27 AM This is fantastic.

Starscreamillar 12:28 AM Excellently evil.

thenightetc 12:28 AM It really is.

thenightetc 12:30 AM If you do, it's the shark tank for you.

highglossfinish 12:31 AM Planet Coaster doesn't let you do this and therefore it's not worth the time or money.

Starscreamillar 12:31 AM Tsk tsk.

highglossfinish 12:31 AM Well, that was amazing!

thenightetc 12:32 AM It WAS.

highglossfinish 12:33 AM Well, that was a perfect note to end the night on.

Starscreamillar 12:33 AM I agree. Thank you for streaming, it was good to catch the madness once again.

thenightetc 12:33 AM Yes, thank you for hosting!

highglossfinish 12:33 AM Thank you for coming!

thenightetc 12:33 AM And here was the pastebin of the part of the chatlog you lost https://pastebin.com/rMN8akyA

highglossfinish 12:34 AM You're a saint.

thenightetc 12:34 AM Do you have the rest? It doesn't seem to disappear for me.

highglossfinish 12:35 AM I do!

thenightetc 12:35 AM Good, good.

thenightetc 12:35 AM Goodnight, then!

highglossfinish 12:37 AM Good night!

Thebes 12:37 AM good night!

0 notes

coffeesforfuckers · 7 years

Text

Cuffed In Handcuffs To My Biggest Secrets // Frerard

Pairing: Frerard Summary: Gerard hates Frank and Frank hates Gerard. They swear at each other, kick, hit, spit at each other, anything that could possibly kill the other while screaming insults at one another. Everybody else is sick of their shit and decide that handcuffs are the only way to solve the problem. Word Count: 3,892

“I hate you so much, Frank Iero. Why the fuck do you even try?” I snap at him without even turning to face him, walking to the changing rooms after a show, “You can’t sing, you can barely play your fucking guitar and on top of that, you’re a reckless moron.” I list off and I can just tell he’s nagging me behind my back.

“You just say this shit because you know you suck and this band will never take off. I don’t even know why I stay at this point, I could do so much better without your dumb ass.” He mutters from behind.

“Yeah right, Frank. How about you go try that out and tell me how it goes?” I sass and he kicks me in the shin. I spin around to face him and he spits up into my eye.

“Maybe I will, dickhead! You’ll fall apart without me here.” His voice is sharp as I wipe his saliva off of my face and quickly grab him by the collar of his shirt.

“Listen you little goblin, I will fucking destroy you.” I hold him up, too close to my face.

“Like you could fight me, I’ll kick your ass, I’m from New Jersey!” He says as if it’s intimidating.

“Like that would ever be-” He spits directly into my mouth. I drop him and spit into the floor in disgust.

“You little shit! What the fuck do you think you’re doing!?” I yell angrily, “Are you fucking challenged?!”

“I’m defending myself you cunt!” He yells back and I swing at him, nailing him in the jaw. He swipes his hand over my face and claws me over the cheek and eye.

I go to grab him again, “Hey! Hey! What are you fucking doing!?” Mikey and Ray rush towards us as Mikey shouts at us.

I catch Frank’s collar and slam him against the wall. Mikey pulls his arms around me and Ray gets Frank, prying us apart as we both desperately attempt to injure each other. I fight against Mikey but he holds me firmly as Frank kicks around in Ray’s arms, looking like the little gremlin he was.

Frank spits at me again and it hits Mikey’s arm, “ Hey !” He practically screams, “ Enough !”

“He started it!” Frank growls.

“No, he fucking spit at me!” I defend.

“Why the fuck are you trying to kill each other anyway?! Jesus christ! Can’t we have one day where you two don’t fucking maul one another!?” Ray snaps.

“Frank’s a fucking idiot! That’s why!” I attempt to break free of Mikey’s restraint again to no avail.

“I didn’t fucking do anything! He just started insulting me for no reason!” Frank struggles, kicking his feet as they couldn’t reach the ground from the way Ray was holding him.

“Can you two please just go get changed so we can go back to the hotel?” Mikey sighs exhaustively. We were constantly at each other's throats and I could tell they were sick of having to pull us apart. I think they should just let us kill one another in all honestly.

“If you let me take one more swing at the gremlin.” I hiss.

“Gerard. Fucking go change. Now .” Mikey demands and starts pulling me to my dressing room, “Ray, take Frank to his dressing room please.” He sighs.

I can hear Frank shouting to be put down and that he could ‘ walk himself’ as Ray carried his tiny ass to his changing area.

|||

“Just let us fight each other. Whoever wins gets to live and stay in the band.” I say as I pull my shirt over my head.

“Gerard, you are not fighting Frank.” Mikey rolls his eyes, “Why do you two hate one another so much anyway?” The question causes me to freeze.

Only Frank and I knew the reasons but even then, there barely was one. We just hated each other really. It was that simple. Him and I were complete opposites, they don’t attract, they repel in our case.

“We just do, Mikey. Opposites don’t always attract.” I grumble, sliding out of my skinny jeans.

He sighs at my immaturity, “Have you ever tried to get along?”

“Once. We’re better as enemies.” I speak and tug on a pair of baggy sweatpants, “Never will I ever be friends with Frank Iero.” I say and lightly kick Mikey’s knee as he was sat on the floor, blocking the exit so I wouldn’t run off and murder Frank.

Smart move.

I let out a huff as he stands up and grasps my arm. Mikey leads me out to the cab that’s waiting for us. Frank’s on the far end and Ray’s in the middle, Mikey hops in and then me. They put a barrier between Frank and I to keep us from ending the lives of one another.

I stare out the window and so does he, completely ignoring me. It’s almost surprising that we haven’t started a screaming match yet. Well, we mostly only did that when Ray and Mikey weren’t around to stop us.

I did feel bad that they always had to stop us from being sent to prison for murder. But I could care less when I was in the middle of one of our infamous arguments.

My eye hurt.

“Mikey, could you get me ice when we get to the hotel, I’m gonna go look at my eye to make sure that I won’t go blind from his attack.” I glare over at Frank who’s already shooting daggers at me.

“Okay, I’ll grab you some ice too, Frank.” He smiles between us as we have a stare down.

“Fine, betray me why don’t you?” I huff and Mikey rolls his eyes at me and my pathetic childishness.

“Gerard, knock it off and you too, Frank.” He mutters to us both and we go back to watching out the windows.

|||

I’m barely awake when we finally get to the hotel. I drag myself up to my room that I’m sharing with everybody. Everybody gets up there quickly, except Mikey of course, who’s finding me ice.

I step into the bathroom to check my wound and it looks awful; my eye is almost swollen shut. I let out a sigh and wash my face with water and then sit down on the floor, leaned against the wall with the hot water running.

I did this a lot. It helps my voice a lot from how much I’ve been straining myself to sing and occasionally get sick from nerves. I was always a very awkward and nervous kid and I get extremely anxious before shows, especially big ones and sometimes end up vomiting from the anxiety.

There's a banging on the door that causes me to jump, “Yo! Hurry the fuck up!” Frank shouts from the other side.

I huff and turn off the water, tossing the door open. I shove him back and he stumbles as I move past him, “Dickhead. I will end you.” Frank grumbles as he slams the bathroom door.

I just end up going to bed.

|||

I sigh as I wobble on my feet, unsure of if I were still going to throw-up again or not. Frank keeps banging on the bathroom door and I’m ready to kill him.

“Can you hurry the fuck up!? Other people have to use that too you know!” He yells, slamming on the door. I’m so fed up with his yelling that I just rinse my mouth and step out, punching him in the chest to move him out of my way.

“Go fuck yourself, Frank.” I snap as I stomp off.

The set goes by so fast, I almost kill Frank probably around three times and he almost cracks my head open with his guitar. Everybody thinks it’s all for the show somehow. Probably because we’re not screaming profanities at each other and actually trying to piss the other off to the point of murder.

As soon as it’s over Frank and I are beating each other as soon as we step off of the stage. Mikey catches me just before I grab Frank by the neck and Ray grabs him.

“You dirty little troll! I’ll fucking slaughter you! I’ll fucking kill your ass!” I shout, fighting as hard as I can against Mikey.

“Try me, Cunt! I dare you to fucking try and fight me you cock sucking whore!” Frank does the same as I.

“Okay! Knock it off!” Mikey shouts over us and we fall silent as always, “Ray, it’s time,” he huffs.

“Brian!” Ray calls our tour manager over.

“Are they at it again.” He groans seeing the scene.

“Grab the things out of my back pocket. Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Mikey speaks sternly.

“Aren’t you afraid they’ll actually kill each other?” Ray raises a concerned voice.

“It’s time for them to settle their differences themselves, Ray.” Mikey shakes his head as Brian grabs my arm and Franks. Suddenly cold metal is strapped around mine and Frank’s arms.

“Handcuffs!?” Both Frank and I yell in unison.

“Good luck, dipfucks. If one of you dies the other has to drag around the other’s body forever.” Brian nods at us as he leaves.

“No! No!” I shout, “Get him off of me!” I yell at Mikey.

“Learn not to kill each other and we’ll let you go.” Ray chimes in.

“We can’t play like this!” Frank snaps.

“Your problem, not ours.” shrugs Ray, and I glare at him.

I am not okay with this.

|||

“I need to shower.” I say, it's only Frank and I in this hotel room.

“Too fucking bad.” He says and I hold back everything in me that's screaming to deck him.

“Can you stop being a cunt. Just stand outside the-”

“No.” He interrupts angrily, “Sponge bath or no bath.” He snaps at me.

“Why the fuck do you hate me so much?” I demand and he just ignores me, typing on his phone. I pull my hand back and it causes him to drop his phone.

“Cunt!” He shouts.

“Go fuck yourself.” I shake my head, “I'm going to bed.”

Frank mutters angrily as we lay uncomfortably close and awkwardly in bed.

I hated my friends so much right now.

|||

Breakfast is the biggest pain in the ass. We're attached with both our dominant hands and let me just say, it's impossible.

Our elbows smack together, our wrists are red, our hands hurt. It's awful. I can't take it.

Sadly, lunch is even worse, having to eat with our heads actually pressed together. We're both absolutely miserable.

By the time we get to the venue we are so ready to murder each other or kill ourselves, we can't tell which would be worse. The place is so big and I'm so anxious. I'm shaking violently and I can tell Frank is getting annoyed by it.

I was also panicked over him finding out about my nervous issue of vomiting before shows. Not even Mikey knew about that somehow. Nobody ever found out.

I bounce my leg and shift around more than normal in my seat. Frank is grinding his teeth with anger at this point.

“Do you have to piss or something?” He snaps and I shake my head, “Then stop bouncing around like an idiot.”

I can't, I want to, but I can't.

“I… Frank I really need to get these cuffs off, like now, please.” I beg.

“You act like I want to deal with this.” He growls at me, he's pissed.

“Frank, you don't understand.” I persist.

He stands and pulls me up, “I knew you needed to piss.” He grumbles and drags me along.

“Not piss.” I say.

“Gerard no.” He glares at me.

“Not that either.” I mumble, now I’m pulling him along, knowing I’m going to vomit. I end up pulling him into the bathroom with me and he seems confused for a second until I drop to the floor.

“Whoa! What do you think you’re doing!?” He shouts and I kick him in the shin.

“Shut up, don’t draw attention.” I mutter angrily.

“Dude, what the fuck? Are you-... Gerard, do you purge?” He whispers, kneeling next to me and holding my hair. It feels so fucked up to have Frank of all people in here with me while I spill the contents of my stomach into an old, pretty gross toilet.

“No.” I cough, “I get sick when I’m too anxious… Which happens almost every show.” I give a weak smile.

“Does anybody know?” He rubs my back after tying my hair up.

“No, I’d rather not worry anybody…” I vomit promptly after I finish speaking and Frank flinches, surprised almost.

“Well, I hate you and even I’m fucking shaking with worry so yeah I can get that.” Frank says and shakes his head.

“Thanks but I’m fine. I just need to stop eating right before shows.” I sigh and sit back, tugging the band out of my hair. My hair flops down around my face and I stand, flushing the toilet with my foot. I wasn’t a fan of public bathrooms. I rinse my mouth out in the sink and Frank doesn’t bother me for once.

It was actually kind of nice not fighting him constantly.

It didn’t last long as his arm got caught in the door and we started yelling over it, threatening to kill each other. Of course, the one time we argue, Mikey shows up and shakes his head at us.

“Good luck playing like that.” He grins, finding our situation amusing.

“I fucking hate you, Mikey!” I shout as he walks off, laughing to himself, “Cunt!”

|||

The shows have been an absolute disaster. He had to play with me hooked to him, singing and moving around was a struggle. He kept fucking around with his guitar and went to toss it around himself and nailed me in the jaw and I bled so bad that they had to bandage it on stage because I refused to leave. That was only the first night. Try over a week of this. I was so banged up and I swear he's reopened that gash in my jaw with his guitar almost every night.

Being back in the hotel room was a blessing. Even though I had to have Frank practically wrapped around me, it was better than trying to beat the shit out of him while he was attached to me.

I somehow manage to get comfortable. Frank was already asleep somehow, my face hurt too bad for me to fall asleep yet. Frank mumbles incoherently in his sleep, it’s surprisingly the least annoying quality about him.

He begins to stir at probably four in the morning, his mumbles getting a bit louder.

“No…” He hums, “No! Go away!” He speaks loudly and he starts to toss and turn anxiously, practically shouting. He’s actually crying, bawling, years running down his face as they slip out of the corners of his firmly shut eyes.

“Frank.” I mumble.

“Stop! Don’t do that! No! I said no!” He starts to get a bit aggressive. I catch his free arm and start to shake him.

“Wake up! Frank, hey… Wake up.” I push him again and again but his yelling continues, “Frank! Wake up!” I shout, startling him awake. He sits upright, still in tears. I can see he’s trembling.

His hands shake as he rubs at his eyes, sniffles and hiccups shaking him. I turn the lights on and sit up, going to place a hand on his back but I end up yanking at his arm. I frown and rest my hand on his leg.

“Are you okay?” I ask and Frank doesn't look at me, only shaking his head, “How can I help?” I want to make him feel better, I'm the only one who should cause him pain is what I think for my reasoning of feeling bad for him.

“Y-... You can't…” He stammers and I frown a bit more. I decide to pull him into me, which forces him into my lap, “What-... What are you doing!?” He struggles in my arms for a second and I hug my arm around him, resting my head on his chin. He stops moving and his cheeks heat up.

“I'm trying to be comforting. Mikey used to do this to me when I would get night terrors.” I hum and feel him squeeze an arm around me, gripping onto my hand.

“Why are you helping me?” He mumbles.

“You've been helping me and I'm just trying to help you in return.” I explain. He and I may beat the fuck out of each over all the time but I felt pretty bad and this feels pretty good.

“Oh… T-... Thanks…” He says into my chest.

He shakes for a while longer, sniffling and not so much crying as whimpering. I'm exhausted but I stay awake the whole time, singing to him. That's what always calmed me down when I'd be so upset.

“Do you think this would be enough of a reason to get the handcuffs off?” I joke and he starts to shake his head.

“I don't want them to know.” He winced against me.

“Okay. Your secrets safe with me, Frank.” I told him and he pressed himself more into my chest. He fell asleep and I laid down, holding him still.

My heart was beating so hard and I couldn't sleep until probably around six.

|||

I wake up with Frank wrapped tightly around me. I stir slightly and notice that Mikey is stood at the end of the bed, taking pictures.

“Hey!” I snap and startle Frank who jumps and sits up.

“You two friends now?” Giggles Mikey.

“No!” We both shout.

“Yeah, okay. ” Mikey chuckles, “Now get up, we're going out to eat.”

“I'm not hungry.” Frank instantly says, “I forced Gerard to get up with me and we ate last night.” He lies. I give him an odd look.

“You sure? It's like four, we have to go in a bit.” Mikey says and we both nod, “Okay, we’ll be back in a while.” Mikey says as he starts to leave, “Bye losers!”

I roll my eyes and the door closes, “Why’d you do that?” I turn to Frank.

“You won’t get sick before if you don’t eat until after, right?” He smiles at me with red cheeks.

“Yeah, you’re right… Thanks.” I mumble and toss my legs over the side of the bed. Frank crawls over and climbs off the bed.

“Let’s go get ready for the concert.”

|||

I walk ahead of Frank to the dressing room, we had been wearing the same shirts for the past, probably week now and had to keep dousing each other in cologne to help us not smell like complete shit. He starts to wash his face and hair in the sink while I standby, involentarily helping.

I’d caught myself staring at him a few times. It was hard not to when you were literally handcuffed to him, but I mean, excessive staring, “Your hair's so soft.” I say without thinking. It really was surprisingly soft.

“Thanks.” He chuckles bearing his bright white teeth up at me. My heart beats too fast as he squints up at me, water dripping down in his face.

“Uh, yeah, no problem.” I cough.

“Could you please get me a towel?” He laughs and I grab him one, patting the water off of his skin. He takes it from me after a moment of watching me with a dopey grin and starts to dry his hair, my hand banging against his head as he did so.

“Frank…?” I speak.

“Yes?” He coos with his schoolgirl giggle.

“Why do you hate me?” I ask and he’s taken aback by the seriousness of my sudden question.

“Uh…” He mumbles, getting flustered and red faced, shrugging.

“Tell me.” I insist.

“I don’t have a reason…” He says awkwardly. I stay silent for a minute or so, pondering whether or not to keep pushing it.

“Yes you do.” I shove him with my arm.

“No!” His cheeks glow.

“Come on, just tell me, I won’t get mad.” I say and he shakes his head, “Well, I honestly just hate you because you’re definitely better than me.” I admit, also because he’s hot and it’s not fair.

“It’s not that you’d get mad.” He sighs.

“Then what is it?”

He shrugs at me, sighing. He seems extremely upset, trying to avoid me which was almost impossible with the cuffs on our hands. I grab his hand and he almost jumps out of his skin.

“Don’t do that!” He smacks me.

“Just tell me what’s bothering you, Frank. We already know each other’s weirdest secrets.” All except that I’m gay as fuck.

“No we don’t.” He gives me a funny look.

“Close enough.” I bump against him with a smile.

“Uh…” He’s as red as a tomato.

“I told you why I hated you, you have to tell me, it’s a rule.” I speak, “You have to, Frank.” I press and Frank gives in with a sigh.

“I like you.” He says, looking at me.

“I asked why you hate me, Frank.” I look at him like he’s crazy.

“No, I-... I’m in-... I-...” He kisses me.

I’m not sure how to respond. I don’t kiss back out of pure shock, but my heart beats too fast and my face burns. I don’t hate it.

Frank pulls back quickly, “Oh, god… I am so sorry, I couldn’t uh… Think of any other way to convey my feelings, but that didn’t work either because it makes me look stupid and it makes my feelings for you like… Even more of them have flourished and your lips are like… Nice… And I’m just gonna stop talking now because I feel really dumb…” He is so red and flustered. Frank looks really cute when he’s blushing, I realize.

“No, I-... I didn’t hate it.” I say.

“You didn’t kiss back… If you didn’t hate it then you would just… Kiss me back…” He sighs, “Well, secrets out I guess…” He frowns, “Can we pretend this didn’t happen?”

“No.” I shake my head.

“Gerard, can we please just forget about it?” He begs, not looking at me.

“No, we can’t.” I reply and he looks at me in frustration and anger.

“Gerard!” He shoves me, I stumble and fall, grabbing onto Frank as I collapse onto the couch, “Forget about it okay.” He persists.

“No, I can’t.” I reply as I place a hand behind his head, resting it on the back of his neck, I pull him closer to me, kissing him myself this time. It felt good, it felt like the thing I’d been missing forever.

The door opens and we try to jump apart only ending up with me writhing in pain from Frank pulling my arm and popping it from its socket.

“Looks like you two have solved your differences and congratulations, you are free to go!” Mikey laughs.

“Yeah… To the hospital.” I grunt and Frank chuckles at me.

Mikey takes the cuffs off but in reality we we’re around each other more without the cuffs than with once they came off.

35 notes · View notes

lady-divine-writes · 7 years

Text

Bitchmas one-shot - “A Dalton Boy Paying for Love” (rated NC17)

Stressing over finals - and everything else that the end of the school year heralds - Sebastian goes out trolling dark corners for a little "companionship". (2934 words)

Written for @lilinas's Bitchmas prompt "exhange". (Yes, I'm still writing these in May. xD I had a whole bunch of these guys half-written and never completed them, so here they are. Also remember that comments equal love, or, at least, a slap on the ass. So stop by AO3 and give many. I am a masochist xD)

Read on AO3.

“Hey, honey. You lookin’ for a good time?”

Sebastian would groan at the cliché nature of that particular pick-up line if the man leaning in through his window weren’t so damn stunning.

“Maybe,” he says, trying to act as suave as an eighteen-year-old can in the face of the sexiest prostitute he’s ever laid eyes on. “Why don’t you get in and find out?”

“I don’t know.” The man stalls, chewing his lip. “I mean, I am digging the car …”

“You like the Porsche?”

“I like the Porsche,” he says with a coy chuckle. “But I still need to see something that’ll convince me you’re not an ax murder. I am meeting you in the parking lot behind an abandoned Burger King.”

“What about ...” Sebastian reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a wad of cash bound together by a silver clip “… five large?”

The man’s eyes pop open. “That’s a good start.” He swipes the bills from Sebastian’s hand, clip and all, and shoves them in his pocket. “Let me in, honey.”

Sebastian unlocks the door and the man gets inside. He slides into the passenger side and immediately reclines the seat.

“Mmm.” He settles in to the leather with a shimmy of his ass. His eyelids flutter closed and he sighs. “I really like your car”

Sebastian watches him make himself at home, stumped as to what he’s supposed to do now. He just paid $500 for this man’s time, which presumably comes with access to his body. Does he just jump the guy, or …?

“Did you have an idea what you wanted to do, honey?”

Sebastian raises a brow. Sexy and psychic. “Yes. A few things, actually.”

“Did you want to get started? Or would you rather watch?” The man doesn’t open his eyes, but runs a hand down his body, starting at his neck, traveling to his pants, heading for the button to his fly.

“Well, for $500 I had hoped to participate.”

The man opens an eyelid, peeking at Sebastian with one startlingly blue eye as he pulls down the zip to his jeans. “Then participate.”

“Okay …” Sebastian says, eyes glued to the hand fiddling with the zip, dragging it open tooth by tooth. “Do you follow the Pretty Woman school of sex work, or do you kiss your customers?”

“Do you like kissing?” The zip reaches a definite end, and the man slips his hand inside his jeans.

“Depends on who I’m kissing.” Sebastian tries to remain cool, confident, but with the man’s hand moving steadily, palming where Sebastian can’t see, causing him to roll his head and moan, he’s not really succeeding.

This is becoming a trend for Sebastian – floundering in the face of a sexy older man.

“Do you wanna kiss me?” the man asks in a sultry whisper.

“Very much.”

The man stops palming. He looks Sebastian full in the face and grins. “Well, then. It looks like today might be your lucky day.”

He grabs the front of Sebastian’s t-shirt with his free hand and pulls him over the center console, raising his head to meet Sebastian’s mouth halfway as if he can hardly wait to kiss him. Sebastian expects the man to taste bitter, like cigarettes and alcohol. He is selling his body in a parking lot. But his mouth tastes cool and sweet, like peppermint, with only the slightest tang from what could be a clove cigarette. His lips feel soft against Sebastian’s, smooth from vanilla-flavored lip balm, and he smells like jasmine.

It’s a combination that makes Sebastian hungry in more ways than one.

“Can I touch you?” Sebastian asks the second the man breaks their kiss.

“If you want,” he replies, not letting Sebastian get too far away just yet, chasing another kiss. “But just so you know - you break it, you buy it.”

“Fair enough.”

Sebastian is itching to shove his hand down the man’s pants, pick up where he left off, but he also doesn’t want to end things too quickly. That would be a pretty anticlimactic way to flush $500 down the drain. Though maybe Sebastian could convince him to go to a hotel with him. He could give him another $500 to make things last longer.

While Sebastian thinks up a way to broach the subject, he puts a hand to the man’s cheek. He looks in his eyes for a moment, seeing a gentle teasing that seems very familiar, then he kisses him. His hand slides down to his chest, a thumb brushing a nipple through his thin shirt as it makes its way further down to his abs. It’s the man who takes Sebastian’s hand by the wrist and leads it to his open fly, quietly asking him to do what Sebastian had just imagined.

Sebastian slips his hand inside. He was all for just stroking him while he kissed him, tormenting him with tender touches and alternating speeds, until he realizes – he’s not wearing any underwear. That changes the game completely because now Sebastian needs to see him, see what’s hiding beneath that skin-tight denim.

“Get on up, babe,” Sebastian commands. “I need to get at you.”

“Alright, bossy.” The man giggles, switching to his knees, his hands bracing against the headrest. Sebastian grabs the waistband of his jeans and pulls them down over his ass and his muscular thighs. Sebastian rolls to his hip, his leg cramping, torqued the way it is in the snug space of his car seat, but he needs to see more, needs to see everything. The man’s skin glows in the blue light from outside, emphasizing every cut of muscle, every hair on his legs, every knob in his spine. Beneath that light, this man becomes abstract art, encompassing both the defined elegance of a Michelangelo statue, and the implied loneliness of an Edward Hopper painting.

Sebastian muses over that description of this man and sighs. Fuck AP Art History! He needs to simonize his head and get his finals off the brain so he can blow off some frickin’ steam!

Sebastian parts the man’s cheeks to examine his entrance, eager to lick and suck and hear him moan, but it’s not his puckered hole that greets him.

“What do you have this in for?” Sebastian asks, flicking the end of a rather larger, silver plug.

“Let’s just say it aids the process. It’s not like you’re the only man I’ll be seeing tonight.”

“We’ll see about that,” Sebastian mutters.

“What’s that, honey?”

“I said, what do I get to do to you?”

The man grins. “Whatever you want.”

“Really?”

“A-ha.”

“So, let’s say, I wanted to do this …” Sebastian grabs the base of the plug and pulls. He twists, then pushes in. The man straddling his seat arches his back.

“Y-yes,” he moans. “That would be acceptable.”

“And what about this?” Sebastian leans over and licks his balls.

“God!” the man gasps. “Y-yes. That’s fine.”

“And what if I did …?” Sebastian loses the last word when he sucks one of the man’s testicles into his mouth, reaching around him to grab hold of his cock and lightly stroke.

“God,” the man groans. “Yes. Yes, you can do tha---holy shit! Fuck!” He shudders as Sebastian pulls the plug back, then slips it forward, fucking him with it. “Yes,” he whimpers, gripping onto the car seat, making it shake. “Yes, yes, God, yes!”

“You like that?” Sebastian whispers behind the juncture of his thigh.

“Yes,” he whines. “Yes, God …”

“You know, God isn’t here right now,” Sebastian says, appropriating a remark once made by a lover that he enjoyed so much, “but I am. So why don’t you use my name instead?”

“And what name would that be?” the man asks, crouching lower, trying to find Sebastian’s mouth again.

“Sebastian.”

“Sebastian,” the man whispers as Sebastian’s tongue circles his perineum. “Sebastian … oh, Sebastian … mmm …”

“That’s it, baby,” Sebastian mumbles against the tender skin of his undercarriage – his sack, the base of his cock, and occasionally his gaping hole. He pulls the plug out completely and gives his rim a lick, ghosting the skin with the barest tip of his tongue. “Just keep saying it, and I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Fist me, Sebastian?” The man fumbles in his pocket for a bottle of lube and what looks like a latex glove before Sebastian even says yes. But, what? Was he really going to say no?

“Yes,” Sebastian says, catching the glove and the lube as it flies in his direction. “Of course.” He snaps the glove on his left hand, covers it in lube, then slowly enters the man’s incredible ass one digit at a time. He’s not able to lick him while doing this – he’d need a snake neck to accomplish it - so he relies on his right hand to stroke, timing the movements of his two hands so that his right hand reaches the head of the man’s cock just as Sebastian pulls his fist out of his ass, and then synchronizes them in reverse.

“God … Jesus … Christ!” the man moans, biting into his knuckle. “Maybe I should be paying you for this!”

“You could always make it up to me,” Sebastian says. “Come back to my place. Tie me up and spank me.”

“Mmm, that sounds right up my alley.” The man bucks back on Sebastian’s hand and fucks his fist, taking over when Sebastian becomes slower, weaker, his arms locking up in the position they’re in. But the man doesn’t seem to mind. It actually seems to turn him on, being in control. “Yes,” he whimpers. “Yes, yes, yes …” Sebastian chuckles at the man’s chanting, glossy-eyed as he stares out the rear windshield. The man’s asshole around Sebastian’s hand feels just as erotic as if he were fucking Sebastian’s dick.

He will be later, Sebastian reminds himself. Once Sebastian gets him out of this parking lot and into an actual bedroom.

Sebastian pushes through discomfort to pick up his pace, and the man quivers, which surprises Sebastian because they haven’t been going at it that long. He must have been primed and ready before Sebastian even got there. What was he doing? Did he have another client? Sebastian doesn’t think so. He looks and smells too clean. Was he playing with himself, alone in the dark, getting ready for whoever might roll up?

Or the impossible, the true fantasy – Sebastian turns this man on so damn much that he wasn’t going to last from the second he got in the car.

His car! The man said he likes Sebastian’s car. With heart punching disappointment, Sebastian realizes his car might be the real reason this man is fucking his fist and his hand so hardcore. But then he moans Sebastian’s name, over and over, shamelessly like he means it. It doesn’t take the sting completely away, but it rebuilds his confidence, and he thinks, ‘Well, if the car’s not the reason, it probably doesn’t hurt.’

The man starts moaning Sebastian’s name so loudly, Sebastian becomes afraid the police will notice and stop to see what’s wrong. Sebastian considers shushing him (which seems extremely rude) after a pair of headlights sweeps their way, but then the man whimpers, “I’m cumming … I’m cumming … I’m …” and Sebastian can’t care less who finds them. Let the cops come over. Sebastian’s going to finish this man off first, then worry about the consequences afterwards.

The man goes quiet, body rigid, thighs trembling as Sebastian fists him through his orgasm. It’s the most amazing spectacle of sexual abandon Sebastian has seen in a long time; this gorgeous man impaled on his fist, captured in his hand, surrendering in the passenger seat of his car. It brings back memories of all the other times he’s done something similar in his car, but with only one man – a man who would never have surrendered so easily.

The man drops his head as he continues to shake, muttering Sebastian’s name while Sebastian holds his cock, throbbing, milking itself dry in his hand. Aftershocks hit in the form of small tremors, but after they pass, the man opens his eyes and stares at the mess he’s made with a look of supreme satisfaction on his face.

“I think I may have doused your seat there.” He runs a finger through the streak of white, then licks it off his finger.

“That’s alright.” Sebastian licks his lips, wishing he could help. He’s about to reach out and take a taste – it is his car that’s been defiled, after all – when the man grabs a spare white t-shirt Sebastian keeps in the back and wipes the seat clean.

“So” – the man locks eyes with Sebastian, panting in the heat of the car – “what did you think of that, honey?”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow. The man nods.

“Scene over, preppy.”

“The position was a little awkward, Master, but I have to say, I quite enjoyed it.” Sebastian liked having Kurt at his mercy. Even though Kurt still had the power – he’d set the scene, decided on the parameters, chosen the spot - Sebastian enjoyed the illusion of control he had over Kurt, the power to play with him.

“Good,” Kurt says, smug smile glowing on his face, “because I want us to do that again … a lot. Except maybe next time I get to drive the fancy car and you get to be the whore.”

“So, roleplaying, huh?” Sebastian asks, watching a sated Kurt zip up his jeans and flop back in his seat.

“Yup. It’s a good way to clear your head. Being someone else, someone who’s 180 degrees not you, can really take you away from your issues. Way more than green bud, and I don’t touch the harder shit.” Kurt watches Sebastian’s eyes cloud with concern, and rolls his eyes with a frustrated huff. He grabs his sub’s face and pinches his cheeks. “Or just have some fun. Didn’t you have fun there, preppy?”

“Yes, Master. I did.” Sebastian doesn’t entirely buy that what they did was just for fun, but there are things that, when Kurt wants them, Sebastian gives without question as long as he’s green.

And this time around, he was definitely green.

“So” – Kurt curls into Sebastian’s side, rubbing his cheek against his sub’s shoulder like a horny cat – “didn’t you say something about going back to my place so we can fuck?”

“I’m not sure I put it exactly that way, Master.” Sebastian snags the opportunity to kiss the top of his Dom’s head while he has it. These moments, when Kurt is sitting lower than Sebastian and Sebastian can kiss him atop the head, are rare. It may not seem like a big thing to the outside observer, but to Sebastian, it means a great deal.

It almost feels like Sebastian is taking care of his Dom.

“Meh. I’m paraphrasing. Here” - Kurt digs the wad of cash out of his pocket and passes it back to him - “put these bad boys back with their friends.” He blows out a breath through pursed lips. “I still can’t believe a boy your age is packin’ hundreds the way you do. Have you ever heard of armed robbery?”

Sebastian reaches for his wallet, but then he stops, considering the cash pinched between Kurt’s fingers.

“Why don’t you keep it, Master?” he says experimentally. “Like you said, I’ve got more than enough.”

Kurt looks at Sebastian, face blank with disbelief, and Sebastian holds his breath, ready to be punished for his mistake. He hopes it’s not too drastic. They fucked before they came here. He really wants the chance to fuck again when they get back to Kurt’s club, in whatever form that comes. From the look on Kurt’s face, Sebastian might find himself suspended from the ceiling with something electric up his ass and a seed pod clamped around his erection. But suddenly, Kurt laughs so hard he snorts, slapping his thigh and shaking his head as if Sebastian just told him the most hysterical joke in the universe, and Sebastian relaxes. Luckily for him, Kurt looks more amused than offended. He probably thinks Sebastian is pulling his leg.

Even though Sebastian is very much not kidding. He’d give his Master anything, anything he asked for.

Anything.

“I don’t need your money, preppy. And even if I did, it wouldn’t be right taking it from you.” Kurt leans over Sebastian’s body and slips the cash in his pants pocket while pressing a light kiss and a smile to the corner of his mouth.

Sebastian returns the kiss, deepens it. He can’t help it. He loves kissing Kurt. In this world he’s found himself entrenched in of societal taboos, kissing like this, vanilla kissing, is the most exotic thing of all.

Kurt lets Sebastian kiss him, but not for too long. Because if he lets Sebastian keep kissing him, they’ll never leave, and whether Kurt likes it or not, they can’t spend all night in Sebastian’s Porsche. He backs away, licking Sebastian off his lips with a devious, twitchy grin on his face. He turns the key in the ignition, eager to get back to his club.

To get back to playing with his sub.

“But if it’s burning holes so badly in there, why don’t you use it to get me something nice? Something expensive, hmm?”

“Absolutely, Master.” Sebastian puts his car into gear and pulls out of the parking lot, thinking - How about another club?

#kurtbastian #sebkurt #sekurt #frankie writes #D/s #Dom!Kurt #sub!Sebastian

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blatherkatt · 7 years

Text

Title: The Calm Is Terrifying When The Storm Is All You Know [Homestuck]

Chapter 12: Roxy

Summary: There were two kinds of trolls who went to Earth: rich shitheads with too much money and free time, and desperate assholes who couldn’t survive on Alternia, even with the best efforts of the young Condesce. Karkat hated the planet almost immediately, but with his home planet too dangerous for mutants, he really didn’t have any choice but to hide out on this weird little diurnal planet. At least he’d be safe. Or so he thought, right before blundering his way into an accidental friendship with the son of an anti-troll terrorist.

Rating: M

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of abuse and neglect including one description of a specific incident, mentions of substance (alcohol) abuse

Author’s Note: Just gonna leave this here http://mspaintadventures.com/?s=6&p=005607 for no particular reason

FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

“You’re — you know Ramona Lalonde?”

Rose allowed herself a small laugh at Kanaya’s expression. They, along with Karkat and Dave (who, true to his word, was…well, he was out of the room, at least) were sitting on the couches in the main room, chatting, and Rose had mentioned her aunt in passing.

“She’s a member of the family,” Rose said. “She’s in Europe right now, but she is our - my, Dave, and Dirk’s - aunt. Which, for those not familiar with human family structures, means she is our mother’s sister.” Rose smiled at Kanaya. “I take it you’ve read some of her works, then?”

“Yes!” Kanaya blurted out. Her cheeks colored slightly with a lovely shade of green, and she visibly tried to restrain herself. “That is, I, erm.” Kanaya twisted her long fingers in the fabric of her dress. “I’ve always had a taste for, erm, a certain genre of literature —“ Karkat snorted.

“Trashy rainbow drinker books,” he said, barely hiding a smile of his own.

“They are not trashy!” Kanaya said. “And anyway, you hardly have any right to be criticizing my taste in literature!”

“Hey, no, I have the best fucking taste in literature, fuck you —“

“As I was saying,” Kanaya continued. “I enjoy books featuring…a certain mythological figure in our own culture known as a rainbow drinker, and a little while after I came to Earth, I learned that you have a similar creature in your own mythology. I believe you call them vampires?”

Dave snorted. It was the most he’d participated in the conversation since coming downstairs.

“Oh, hush,” Kanaya said, her face coloring a bit more. “Anyway, I asked at a bookstore about any such books, and someone suggested Fangs for the Memories, and, well, I ended up enjoying it so much, that I tore through several other of her works! I couldn’t really get my head around Complacency of the Learned, it may just be a bit beyond my grasp, but her lighter works have been wonderful reads! And — and you’re really related?”

Rose nodded. Before she could answer, though, Dave interrupted.

“Wait, Complacency of the — isn’t that the fuckin’ weird-ass rated-R Harry Potter thing?”

“There’s a lot more to it than that,” Rose said dryly, “but it probably is the book you are thinking of, yes.”

Dave snickered. “Jesus, this family’s fuckin’ weird,” he muttered.

“What the fuck is Harry Potter?” Karkat said.

“It’s like. These books about a wizard school or something that got really fuckin’ popular? I dunno, I never read ‘em. Saw one of the movies at like two in the morning once when Bro was out, but that’s all I got.”

“Oh. Wizards,” Karkat said, looking around at the decor of the main room. “Dunno what I expected in this fucking family, but that’s about the least surprising answer I could have gotten.”

“Well, as rumor would have it,” Rose said, “If anyone were to write about magic with any sort of authority, dear Aunt Ramona would be the one.”

“I’ve heard that,” Kanaya said, leaning in with a hushed, excited whisper. “People say she’s…dangerous, that she tinkers with dark forces beyond our understanding.”

“They certainly do say that,” said Rose. “Whether it’s true or not, I couldn’t tell you. But she does certainly have an air of mystery to her. From what I’ve gathered, even our father is a bit frightened of her.”

“Wait, what?” said Dave. “I dunno about that, Rose. I didn’t see the guy act scared of anyone in ten years.”

“You haven’t seen Aunt Ramona in ten years, either, by the sound of it,” Rose retorted. “Which isn’t surprising, I suppose. Ever since Roxy was old enough to take care of herself, more or less, she’s been abroad most of the time. I think she’s in France at the moment, although it can be hard to tell, with her aversion to being captured on film, and all.”

“If she’s family,” Karkat said, his voice carrying a scornful bite that made Rose narrow her eyes, “then why is it so hard to know where she is? Wouldn’t she fucking check in or whatever?”

“Not very often,” Rose said. “Aunt Ramona is…not on the best of terms with Mom. They love each other, don’t get me wrong, but Ramona is not exactly a patient woman. She could only stand so much of watching her sister slowly drown herself in increasingly extravagant spirits, and, frankly, I can’t say I blame her. She checks in with Roxy now and then, and with us even less frequently, but she’s hardly required to babysit her sister forever, and it’s not her responsibility if a grown woman wants to completely give herself over to alcohol.”

Dave shifted uncomfortably. “Fuck, man,” he muttered, in an oddly distant voice, “tell us what you really think about Mom, no need to be so fuckin’ nice about her. Jesus Christ.”

“Easy for you to say,” Rose snapped, making both the trolls and Dave jump. “You didn’t have to grow up with her constantly stumbling around half out of her mind!”

“Shit, did I say that out — fuck, sorry, you’re right, sorry,” Dave said, quickly. “I mean, she doesn’t seem all that bad to me, I guess, but I honestly remember approximately jack shit of what life here was like, so I kinda got no frame of reference, it just —”

“She’s just a harmless fucking woman who wants to hug people and cry a lot, what the fuck is your problem?!” Karkat spat. Dave made a soft, distressed noise, but Rose spoke before he could say anything.

“What I said to Dave goes double for you,” she said. “You’re not even from this planet, you barely know what parents are, and you’ve no right to tell me how to feel about my mother.”

“I’m not asking you to drop down and worship the ground she fucking walks, here,” Karkat said. “I don’t give a shit how you feel about her, you can feel however you want! But maybe cut her some fucking slack? At least she’s trying!”

“Oh, yes, she does try. Remind me to get out the participation awards to lavish her with, since she is trying so hard. So hard that she’s made not the slightest bit of effort to sober up long enough to participate in basic events in the lives of the children she’s supposed to be raising. Why, she’s practically Mother of the Year! How wrong I’ve been!”

With a sound like wind mixed with television static, Dave was gone. In the time it took Rose to process that he’d flashstepped away, she heard the noise of his bedroom door clicking shut.

“Oh, God damn it. Dave!” she called out, intending to ask him to come back down.

Karkat stood before she could finish, fists balled up tersely. “Fucking leave him be, too, why don’t you,” he growled.

“Karkat, can we not do this,” Kanaya said, but to no avail.

“Honestly,” Karkat said, “You keep acting like you’re so fucking world weary and dragged down by everyone else, but you’re half the fucking problem here!”

“Me?!” Rose said, standing up and glaring down her nose at him. “Excuse me for not just complacently sitting back and watching my mother destroy herself without being upset!”

“It’s not just your mother, first of all,” Karkat said. “If looks could kill, your entire family’d be dead by now! You get mad at Dave over shit he does because he’s had doing it beaten into him, and I don’t even know where the hostility you have against Dirk comes from, but —“

“I don’t act hostile toward Dirk, what the hell are you talking about?” Rose said. “The worst I’ve done to Dirk is to justifiably get on his case for trying to act like he’s the one in charge, when he barely knows what he’s doing half the time. That’s not hostility, that’s just being siblings! As for Dave, how are you so sure you know why he’s doing these things out of that? You barely know him!”

“He blocks his bedroom door with a chair,” Karkat said, his voice low, “because Strider would sometimes burst into his room, and locking the door wasn’t enough to stop him. The chair didn’t either, but it slowed him down enough to not get taken completely by surprise. He told me that the day I met him,” he continued, his eyes fierce, “And every moment I spent in that fucking hiveblock only convinced me that Dave was completely right. What do I have to do to get you to fucking understand how fucking scared he is?!” Karkat shouted.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Rose hissed. “He’s got nothing to be afraid of here! He’s perfectly safe!”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t know that,” Karkat said. “And with you and your brother constantly at each other’s throats — which you are, by the fucking way, don’t think I haven’t noticed just because you two are fucking subtle about it, every time you two are in the same room there’s always some sort of fucking resentment lurking behind every other word — and add that on to your mother constantly appearing out of nowhere, and you always three seconds from getting mad at him, of course he’s having a hard time figuring it out! Everything here is different and he doesn’t know what to expect, and as if that isn’t scary enough, you’re making it worse!”

“What would you have me do, then,” Rose said, “Just stand by and let him seal himself away? Be like my Aunt Ramona, leave my sibling to his self destruction without intervening?”

“I’m saying you need to be patient, dammit,” Karkat said. “He was coming out on his own. Give him space to get used to it, and he’ll start coming around and eventually figure out he’s not in danger. Forcing him to come out before he’s ready is just gonna scare him more!”

Rose snorted.

“You can’t bully him into recovering from this,” said Karkat. “There’s a time and place for yelling at people until they start helping themselves. Fuck, I’ve done that before, I get it, but this is not that fucking time and place.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Rose retorted. “The alien with his volume setting locked at two clicks past the maximum thinks he can lecture me about patience.”

“Oookay,” Kanaya said, standing. “I think this discussion has gotten quite angry enough. Could we perhaps reconvene on this matter later, or something? We’ve already scared away one person, and I fear I’m growing quite uncomfortable myself, and, um.”

Rose sighed. “I’m sorry, Kanaya, you’ve been very patient. I will admit I lost my temper a bit, there,” she said, flashing her best ‘this-is-called-being-the-bigger-person’ glare at Karkat, “And I think I’d better be alone for a time in order to cool off. If you want to know more about our Aunt, I’d be glad to answer more questions later.”

She turned on her heel, ignoring Kanaya whispering angrily to Karkat, who hissed something back. Rose paused at the foot of the stairs. “Damn, almost forgot,” she said, “Roxy will be visiting tomorrow. She’s our cousin. She’ll likely be here before Dirk and I get back from school; she’s got a spare key and the code to the garage, so she’ll just let herself in, most likely.”

“It’ll be a pleasure, I’m sure!” Kanaya said with a forced smile.

Roxy was so fucking ready for this. Like, hyper-ready. UBER-ready. She had this shit on lockdown.

Well, okay, actually, she had no idea what she was doing, but she was still feeling pretty confident.

Anticipation rode in her stomach like a butterfly on fifteen cans of pure caffeine for the entire drive to her cousins’ house. She was seeing one of her cousins for the first time in twelve years, and she was pumped as hell, if a little bit nervous.

She’d spent about two hours the night before looking around on online forums about how to help kids dealing with trauma and abuse, and from what she could tell, the general consensus was to be patient, let ‘em run off to whatever space they had that could be their own little safe space if they need to, and ask before doing anything like touching or hugging or stuff like that. Which was gonna be hard, because she wanted to hug the poor kid for approximately fifty years, but if he wasn’t okay with that, then she’d fuckin’ deal. Hug the cat a bunch of times instead, or something.

Roxy was practically vibrating by the time she pulled up into the driveway and parked the car. As she was opening the front door, she heard a gravelly voice, halfway through a sentence, talking inside the house’s main room.

“—about it, Rose mentioned something about your…cousin, I think she called it? Coming over for a visit.”

“Hi, yeah, that’s me, I’m the cousin!!” Roxy called, shoving her arm through the opening and waving excitedly. She let herself in and locked the door behind her, before whirling around, the pink tips of her hair batting her in the face as she did. Three people were on the couches: a lady troll in a pretty dress, a dude troll in an oversized sweater sitting across from her, and one grown up baby cousin seated next to the dude troll.

Grinning, she bounced over, then stopped herself short in front of him. “Heeeyyy- wait, shit, almost forgot!” she said, pulling her arms back from the hugging position they’d gone straight into. Had to keep it at least a little cool, here. “Is it gonna totally freak you out if I hug you?”

“Uh,” said Dave, “It’s…fine, I guess?”

“Good, cuz I’m ‘bout to hug the shit outta you,” Roxy said, and hugged the shit out of him. He made a slightly bewildered noise, and the troll next to him recoiled slightly. Letting go (for now), Roxy flopped down on the couch next to Dave, still smiling. “God, I’m so excited to see you! You probably don’t remember me at all, though, you were pretty little last time you saw me, and, agh, you’re so big now, look at you!! Ugh, listen to me, ‘you’ve gotten so big,’ what am I, your grandma? Whatthefuckever, you’re here, hey!!” She hugged him again, this time a little gentler, around the shoulders. (Did she imagine him leaning it into that time? Probably, but. Maybe not!!!) “So, I’m Roxy, and we’re cousins, and I’m gonna try real hard not to start bawling and ruin my makeup, but in case it’s not clear yet, I’m stoked as hell to be seeing you.”

“Kinda got that impression, yeah,” Dave said. Kid had one hell of a pokerface, damn, he’d give Dirk a run for his money.

“You’re allowed to tell me if I’m making you uncomfortable, bee-tee-dubs,” she whispered conspiratorially to Dave. “Like, if I cross a line on accident, just go ��Roxy, fuck off’ and I’ll step right on back over that line all smart-like.” Dave snorted softly.

“Got it,” he said, his lips twitching slightly into an almost-smile.

Introductions flew by quickly. Roxy tried to ignore the suspicious glares that Karkat was throwing her way; she remembered his name as being the one Dirk had said Dave actually trusted a lot, so, best to try and get on his good side. He was a cute little thing, with his little blunt horns and those big teeth sticking out almost as messily as his hair, and Roxy could see why Dave might take to him.

As the conversation progressed, both Karkat and Dave’s tension levels seemed to drop. Karkat refocused on some movie that was playing on the weirdest laptop Roxy had ever seen, and Kanaya picked up a sketchbook and made herself busy, occasionally interjecting with her own comments. Dave was…really hard to read, but Roxy did her best to drop any topic he seemed uncomfortable getting into, no matter how badly she wanted to know what he’d been through. She was a stranger to him, she had to keep that in mind, and he’d talk when he was ready.

“I’d been hoping to get in touch with you online, too,” she said at one point, “But I think I rushed into it a bit? I messaged you soon as I got your username from Dirk, but you blocked me straight away, I think. Couldn’t get any messages through to you!”

“Well, yeah, I did that whenever I got a message from someone whose handle I didn’t recognize,” Dave said. “I mean, keeping in touch with friends and catching up with Rose and Dirk was kinda one thing, but. I was already breaking rules just by talking to people online at all, and I got why he didn’t want me doing that. Might accidentally give shit away, or something.”

“Did he catch you?” Roxy said. “All I know is that you just sorta vanished one day, and that’s what we assumed happened.”

Dave glanced away with a very small, nervous sound. His thumb absently traced the white scar on his cheek. Karkat’s eyes widened a bit at the movement, then narrowed.

“Shit, whoops, I didn’t think that one through,” said Roxy. “That’s probably a touchy subject, isn’t it? You don’t gotta answer.”

Dave replied with a quiet ‘thanks,’ and Roxy steered dutifully away from that topic, chattering instead about whatever came to mind. Dave didn’t seem to want to talk much at all about his home life with Derek, which was fine and about what Roxy had expected after reading the forums. Rose and Dirk seemed to be uncomfortable subjects, too, which did not bode well. She’d have to ask the trolls about them later.

Despite her best efforts to be careful, Dave grew distant after a while, and quietly excused himself, disappearing upstairs. Roxy turned to Karkat as soon as she heard the door close.

“I’m not coming on too strong, am I?” she asked. Karkat blinked at her. “Like, I’m excited as all fuck, and I know I can go overboard with this stuff sometimes. Is he just giving himself a timeout, or am I freaking him out, do you think? You’re the one who’s had the most luck with him, right?”

“I wouldn’t call it luck so much as I’m the only one who bothers to actually pay fucking attention,” Karkat grumbled. “But…no, I don’t think you’re scaring him.”

“He excuses himself all the time with us,” Kanaya added. “Usually a few minutes after something comes up to make him uncomfortable, but sometimes it seems like it’s just because a certain amount of time has passed.”

“He spent practically all his time in his block with Strider,” Karkat said. “It’s like I’ve said to Kanaya, he probably just gets overwhelmed.”

“Yeah, that’s about what I expected,” said Roxy. “All the shit I’ve read about kids dealing with trauma went something along those lines, y’know? Will he be back down, or is he done for the day?”

“He might come back,” said Kanaya. “He usually does, until Rose or Dirk get home.”

“God dammit,” Roxy said, startling both the trolls at her volume. “Are they being assholes? Fuck’s sake.”

“‘Assholes’ is putting it nicely, if you ask me,” Karkat grumbled darkly. “I’ve met rabid cholerbears who handled delicate situations better than them.”

“Oh, brother,” Roxy groaned. “Let me guess: Rose is being real fuckin’ impatient and trying to pick a fight over just about anything, and Dirk’s off being the cool mysterious lurker again. Yeah?”

“Thats…pretty accurate, yeah,” Kanaya said.

“UUUUUGH. God, these cousins of mine,” Roxy said. “I love them to death, but boy can they be ridiculous.”

“To be fair, I don’t think they mean to be,” Kanaya said. Karkat snorted.

“Oh, they definitely don’t,” said Roxy. “But despite being some of the smartest people I know, they’re a pair of idiots. They, like. They like to assume they know what’s going on, especially Rose, and it’s an uphill goddamn battle trying to get them to see things the other way, especially once Rose gets pissed.” Karkat was staring at Roxy, wide-eyed, like she’d just passed on the meaning of life, or something. “Like, it comes from a place of love in this case, I’m sure it does!” she added. “But that’s really only a starting point, and it’s not gonna be enough with poor Dave, after whatever he’s been through.”

“Holy shit, that’s what I’ve been trying to explain to them,” Karkat said. “But Dirk’s never around for long, and doesn’t trust me, which is fucking fine because I don’t trust him, either, and Rose always turns everything around to the fact that I yell all the time!”

“I mean,” Kanaya said, “I can kind of understand her point there? If Dave’s come from a home with the kind of turbulence you’ve aluded to, I can understand him being anxious with your tendency to shout.”

“He doesn’t have a problem with volume, Kanaya,” Karkat said. “I’ve been talking to him the same way I talk to everyone else the entire fucking time I’ve known him, and guess what? He doesn’t have a problem with it at all. It’s more like…atmosphere he has a problem with. Strider wasn’t loud, hell, he barely made a sound at all, that’s what made him so fucking scary!”

“So, like,” Roxy interjected. “Should I try and be noisy when I move around him, then? D’you think that’d help? Make sure he knows where I am?”

“Probably,” Karkat said with a shrug. “Honestly, it’s hard to get Dave to admit that anything bugs him, but he’s never complained or flinched or anything about me stomping around, so.”

“Okay, good to know,” Roxy said. “As for Rose and Dirk, I’ll try and talk with them before I leave tonight, kay? See if I can’t get them to rethink things.”

“Thank fuck,” Karkat said.

(Never one to make a promise she didn’t plan on keeping, Roxy made sure to talk to Rose and Dirk before leaving. Rose had seemed kind of annoyed at Roxy’s suggestion to maaaaybe chill out just a little bit with Dave, but said she’d try, at least. Dirk seemed more thoughtful, especially at the idea that making noise around Dave might actually be a good thing. Hopefully, things would get better, but Roxy was fully prepared to be visiting on the regular, just to make sure. With cousins this stubborn, you could never be too careful.)

After Roxy had gone home, Karkat went to check on Dave. The kid had come out of his room a few more times, spending a bit longer outside each time and, to Karkat’s surprised delight, actually did seem like he was getting more comfortable around Roxy. (Karkat himself begrudgingly had to admit, this particular ‘family’ person was…pretty great.) Still, he was clearly exhausted by the end of the day, and Karkat wanted to just…make sure he was right.

That, and he’d noticed something that had sparked his curiosity.

He ended up in Dave’s room, sitting on the floor and idly chatting as Dave lay on his back on his sleeping platform.

Eventually, Dave sighed. “Okay, whatever question you’re sitting on is lighting a fire under your ass, dude, I can smell it roasting away from over here. Just hurry up and ask it, already, before you fuckin’ burn everyone’s breakfast.”

“I…shouldn’t,” Karkat said. “I’m not enough of an asshole to go prying into other peoples’ personal shit, curiosity or not, and I’m not sure it’s something you want to talk about. You went really quiet when it almost came up with Roxy.”

“I don’t know Roxy, man,” Dave said. “I mean, I like her, but I ain’t known her long enough to be comfortable talking about some things. Haven’t known you long either, sure, but…I dunno, you’re easy to talk to, I guess?” Dave muttered something Karkat couldn’t make out over the pounding of his pump biscuit. Stupid definitely-not-a-pale-crush, now was not the time to get all sappy over an admission of trust. He’d spent enough time with humans and witnessing some of their media by now to get that humans were idiotically trusting in general, it didn’t necessarily mean anything. “Look,” Dave continued, “all your fidgeting is making me nervous just watching you. Go ahead and ask the question, get it off your chest, and if I ain’t comfortable answering, I’ll say so.”

Karkat took a deep breath. “I guess I just…feel a little confused, about some of the things you said about talking to people online.” Dave stiffened slightly, and again, Karkat watched his hand shift (mindlessly, it seemed) to cover the scar across his cheek, just like it had before. “You mentioned that you knew you were breaking a really dangerous rule, but why risk talking to your friends if you knew how much trouble you’d be in? You haven’t exactly been the reckless type in the time I’ve known you, it just feels fucking weird to me.”

Dave was very quiet for a long moment. “I guess I just…” he said, slow and thoughtful, “Kinda needed to talk to someone, y’know?”

Another long, quiet moment. Karkat almost started to talk, but Dave continued suddenly, “Maybe I’m just…too fuckin’ weak to be the fuckin’ warrior Bro wanted of me, I dunno. But John and Jade…I could just talk to them without having to worry about swords or about always being perfectly fucking composed or whatever. Just be a stupid fucking kid for a little while, you know? The only other people around were Bro, Be- uh, some of his guys, maybe whoever worked at whatever apartment building or motel we were at that time, maybe a guy working a corner store. And that was it, that’s all I had to talk to, and it was fucking exhausting, man. I guess at the time it was worth the risk just to feel…”

“Happy?” Karkat offered.

“…Human,” Dave said, softly.

Karkat blinked. “As opposed to what? How do you not feel human?”

Dave shrugged. “I dunno, man, I spend a lot of time just going around on autopilot. Feeling numb, because it’s better than having to deal with…shit I’m not strong enough to handle.”

“…And you’re still doing that?”

“Not today, so much,” Dave said. “Today was nice. Roxy’s easy to hang with, like, I can fuckin’ worry a little less and relax a tiny fuckin’ bit, same as with you.” Dave snorted. “Wow, fuck, that sounded a lot gayer out loud than it did in my head, what the fuck.”

Karkat quirked an eyebrow, but decided not to comment.

Silence stretched before them again. Dave rolled over and half buried his face in his sleeping cushion.

“He caught me, talkin’ to Jade at three in the morning,” he said. “Totally flipped out on me. I mean, I knew he would be mad if he ever caught me, but I wasn’t expecting…” He shifted his grip tighter on the sleeping cushion, his voice slightly muffled, but his mouth just uncovered enough that Karkat still heard every word. “Any time I broke a rule, made a mistake, whatever, the deal was always the same. Grab your sword, meet me on the roof, we settle this with blades. And it sucked, but I could deal with it, you know? Try and redeem myself by fighting back well enough to prove I’m not a total failure, ‘cept he always totally kicked my ass, but that was my fault for not being better. This time, though, he totally fuckin’ snapped. I’ve never seen him that angry, man, not before, not since. He didn’t even let me grab my sword, just dragged me off to the roof unarmed. Gave me this,” he gestured at the white line on his cheek, “and a few others, slapped the flat of the blade over my back a few times, and while I was too fuckin sore n’ dizzy to do anything about it, he broke my phone and my laptop right in front of me. Couldn’t hardly move for a week afterwards.”

“Fuck,” Karkat whispered.

“I guess…” Dave said. “I mean, I probably got no right to tell anyone how to handle parenting shit, since I’m still a fuckin’ dumbass kid, but. If there was ever a time he went too far, I think that mighta been it, y’know?”

“I think I can see why you never tried to contact anyone online afterwards, that’s for fucking sure,” Karkat said. “Holy fuck, Dave.”

“It was just the one time, though,” he said, softly. “I think he felt bad about it. He didn’t try and make me strife him or anything for a good two weeks afterward, so.”

“Yeah, and that just makes it all fucking better,” Karkat grumbled. “Dave, holy shit, I was literally raised by a goddamn animal and my lusus sure as fuck never did anything near that vicious to me, what the fuck!”

“Sorry,” Dave mumbled. “I dunno why I told you all that, sorry, fuck.”

“It’s fine,” Karkat said, “holy shit, I’m not mad at you, okay? I’m mad that your fucking guardian thought this was remotely okay, and I’m mad about a lot of other shit, too, but not at you.”

“Kay,” Dave said, his face now fully buried in the sleeping cushion. Karkat, after a moment’s hesitation, rested his hand on Dave’s shoulder. Karkat didn’t miss Dave flinch slightly at the touch, but the human didn’t pull away, nor did he raise his head.

“Fuck, I dunno why I’m choosing now of all times to have a goddamned moment,” said Dave. “You don’t deserve to put up with this shit, man, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mind,” said Karkat. “It’s fine, Dave, really.”

“I’m,” said Dave, swallowing thickly, “I’m sorry, man, I just. I think I need to be alone a while.”

“…Alright,” said Karkat. “Just come get me if you change your mind, okay? Even if it’s the middle of the night, or whatever. Fuck knows I don’t sleep on this planet anyway, so it’s not like you have to worry about waking me up.”

Dave made an affirmative noise. Karkat left the room with a feeling of guilt crawling in the depths of his hunger sack.

—That hand on his shoulder had felt, for a moment, like the nicest goddamn thing in the entire world. He’d been lying, he hadn’t wanted Karkat to leave at all, but —

But it was too much. If he’d let the guy stay, fuck knew what would’ve happened. He’d already spilled his guts about that night talking to Jade, and the poor bastard was involved in this shit enough, he didn’t deserve any of that. Didn’t deserve to deal with some asshole human he barely knew crying all over him like the fucking loser he was.

And he was, he was a complete fucking disaster. Every time Roxy’d hugged him, he’d had to fight off the old urges he’d been suppressing for years, to be a complete clingy asshole and beg for more affection. He didn’t need it, he was strong, it was fine. Except, it wasn’t fine, because being hugged like that, without the suddenness he was getting used to from Mom, it felt warm and safe and every time he’d wanted to melt into it, and Karkat’s hand resting on his shoulder had almost pushed him over the edge.

He couldn’t let that happen, he just couldn’t.

Besides, making friends and getting attached was only gonna make shit harder for both of them when he had to leave.

Or he could stay.

Haha. Yeah, right.

Dave groaned, and tried desperately to stop thinking.

#roxy lalonde #dave strider #karkat vantas #rose lalonde #kanaya maryam #longpost//#fanfic #fanfiction #calmvsstormfic #calmvsstormchapter #makin up for a short chapter and another week late with a long one again hooboy!!!#sorry for no art but at least u got that snapchat of ramona being scary #katt does a writing

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fae-fucker · 8 years

Text

Throne of Glass: Chapter 47-49

Chapter 47

The chapter opens with Kaltain, who’s waiting for the final duels to start.

It was strange to think of this woman as an assassin, but seeing her now, all of her oddities and faults made sense.

And what in-universe flaws and oddities are those? Go on, I’ll wait. Actually, I won’t, because I want this hell to end. Kaltain doesn’t really know Sardines at all, and they dislike each other because they want the same man (but for different reasons).

This book is just so feminist!

Kaltain poisons the wine that Sardines is supposed to drink and we’re back with Sardines.

Kaltain stood behind Perrington, wearing a beautiful red cloak lined with white fur. Their eyes met, and Celaena wondered why the woman smiled at her.

FEMINISM.

Everyone stands around and the entire chapter is just about people standing around, waiting for the duels to start. Riveting. I guess this is supposed to build tension for the climax? Ain’t workin’ too well.

For a heartbeat, she saw the king with stark clarity. He was just a man—a man with too much power. And in that one heartbeat, she didn’t fear him. I will not be afraid, she vowed, wrapping the familiar words around her heart.

Yeah those familiar words that she supposedly repeats to herself ... She’d done it what, once? Twice?

Doesn’t mean shit.

The king babbles on about some rules and how they’re not allowed o kill each other, for some reason. Cain and Renault go first.

Across the ring, Grave smiled at her as he wrapped a hand around the hilt of his sword. She bit down on her grimace at the sight of his teeth. Of course, she’d have to duel the grotesque one. At least Renault had been clean looking.

W-what? What does ... What does that have to do with anything? What the hell?

Sardines has a dirt-fetish confirmed.

Chaol offers her his sword. It’s very symbolic.

She blinked at the blade, and slowly raised her face to look at him. She found the rolling earthen hills of the north in his eyes. It was a sense of loyalty to his country that went beyond the man seated at the table. Far inside of her, she found a golden chain that bound them together.

Uh. Sure.

Jesus Christ, what? What exactly made them friends, aside from the physical attraction? Most of the time they were bickering at each other, and not in a cutesy charming way.

And we gotta make sure the metaphorical chain is gold, because how else would you signify importance if not through arbitrary symbols of wealth?

And obviously, since Chaol and Sardines are both dumbasses and Smaas doesn’t research for shit, it’s not like this sword was probably custom-made and Sardines would have to get used to its size and balance before she could wield it properly, if she could do it at all. But Sardines is a master of every weapon, and all swords, even ornamental ones, are the same, right?

But despite this wanking over how super deep and amazing their friendship is, Mehemia waltzes up to Sardines too and offers her a SUPER SYMBOLIC STAFF.

And ... Just read this:

Nehemia leaned in to whisper in Celaena’s ear. “Let it be with an Eyllwe weapon that you take them down.” Her voice hitched. “Let wood from the forests of Eyllwe defeat steel from Adarlan. Let the King’s Champion be someone who understands how the innocents suffer.”

This is so dumb. Is this supposedly the start of Sardines’s journey to becoming a good person? Color me unimpressed.

She knew what the princess was asking of her. As the King’s Champion, she might find ways to save countless lives—ways to undermine the king’s authority.

N-no. Smaas. Honey. This isn’t how that works. Sardines isn’t nearly smart enough to do politics, and she’s already expressed disgust for people who are.

How else would she undermine the king’s authority? Being his champion means to fight for him. If she doesn’t do that, he’ll just replace her. She doesn’t actually have any power. She’s just a meat shield, a soldier.

This is all so fucking dumb.

“No matter what happens,” she said quietly, “I want to thank you.” Chaol tilted his head to the side. “For what?” Her eyes stung, but she blamed it on the fierce wind and blinked away the dampness. “For making my freedom mean something.”

I sure wish it meant something to the reader, too, because I have no idea what the fuck you’re supposed to be saying here.

Anyway, Cain beats Renault and it’s time for Sardines and Grave to fight.

Chaol squeezed her hand, his skin warm in the frigid air. “Give him hell,” he said.

So is Christianity a thing in this universe? Or does the concept of hell just exist on its own?

Chapter 48

Sardines beats Grave super easily. As if we expected anything else.

“How long did that take?” she asked. She found Nehemia beaming at her, and Celaena lifted her staff a little in salute.

“Two minutes.”

She grinned at the captain. She was hardly winded.

[rocking back and forth] The concept of a Mary Sue is inherently misogynistic. The concept of a Mary Sue is inherently misogynistic. The concept of a Mary Sue is ...

Anyway, Sardines chugs the posioned wine. Some assassin she is for not realizing it’s poison, but whatever. OH BUT IT’S THE POISON SHE COULDN’T IDENTIFY THAT TIME THEY WERE DOING A TEST ON PISONS!!! you screech.

Yeah. Which is even worse. You’d think she’d realize this was a weakness of hers and find out how to deal with it and learn to identify it.

“Out of good faith, and honor to the Great Goddess,” Kaltain said in a dramatic voice. Celaena wanted to punch her.

Idk what the fuck Kaltain did wrong since she was probably ordered to do this. Ah yes, her mistake was being an ambitious woman who wanted to use the protag’s fake love interest to further her own (very unclear) goals, so her crime is being female and having dreams of rising above her station. What a bitch.

FEMINISM.

“Ready yourselves,” the king ordered. “And begin on my mark.”

Celaena looked to Chaol. Wasn’t she to be allowed a moment to rest?

Lmao the narration just said you were barely winded. Suck it up, princess.

Sardines is getting all dizzy and shit and starts feeling ill.

Why were things slowing down?

She attacked—faster and faster, stronger and stronger.

I’m getting all kindsa whiplash from this narration.

He knocked aside her blow as if it was nothing, and she retreated while he rose. And that’s when she heard the laugh—soft, feminine, and vicious. Kaltain.

SOFT. FEMININE. VICIOUS. ALL BAD THINGS (unless they’re applied to Sardines when observed through male eyes).

WHAT A!!! SASSSY!!! STRONK!!! FEMINISTT!!!! CREATURE!!!!!

SMAAS HAS WON FEMINISM!!!

*deep breath*

Cain beats the ever-loving crap out of her and I’m here like a fucking child during Christmas Eve. This is some good shit. This is all I’ve ever wished for.

Doriass is watching this unfold and is super sad. Chaol is watching this unfold and is super sad.

Cain is taunting Sardines about her dead parents. Her dead royal parents. Ya know. Cuz she’s a princess. But Smaas isn’t merciful enough to drop the charade yet, so Cain doesn’t actually say that.

Cain smashes her head against a wall (yay!) and she start tripping the fuck out.

It was a man, his skin pale and rotting. His eyes burned red, and he pointed at her in a broken, stiff way. His teeth were all sharp and so long they barely fit into his mouth.

FORESHADOWING.

Cain had said things he couldn’t possibly know—he’d seen it in her eyes. And if he knew about her past . . . She whimpered, hating herself for it, and for the tears that began sliding down her face, across the bridge of her nose and onto the floor. It was all over.

So the only reason we were in Chaol’s POV when Cain was taunting her is so that we don’t see Sardines’s flashbacks to her childhood and find out that she’s a princess before we’re “ready”.

Cheap. You’re not that good, Smaas.

Also, I’m incredibly happy over seeing Sardines all beaten and miserable.

NOT A GOOD THING FOR A PROTAG THAT WE’RE SUPPOSED TO SYMPATHIZE WITH.

Cain smashes her head a second time and she sees a bunch of creepy monsters and it’s all very mysterious. Or would be, if I didn’t know where this was all going and actually cared.

Cain rips off the Eye of Elena (the amulet that protected her from evil) and ...

They came for her.

Nah.

Chapter 49

We’re back with Dorian, because Smaas loves breaking up the action with pointless POV switches, and he realizes that Sardines has given up and is waiting for Cain to kill her! :’’’((( He doesn’t really ... do anything about it but whatever.

We’re back with Sardines. She’s really fucked up.

Light and darkness. Life and death. Where do I fit in?

I dunno darlin’ but I’d recommend death in your particular case.

She’d find a way—she could find a way to survive. I will not be afraid. She’d whispered that every morning in Endovier; but what good were those words now?

This must be really riveting for fans of the book. Seeing your intrepid, sassy feminist creature for a heroine being so determined and strong!

I’m just here hoping reality will somehow break and put me in a world where the book ends with her dying and Smaas going “y’all got trolled” in the epilogue.

But when things look most dire:

But then something extraordinary happened. Doors, doors, doors all burst open. Doors of wood, doors of iron, doors of air and magic. And from another world, Elena swept down, cloaked in golden light. The ancient queen’s hair glittered like a shooting star as she plummeted into Erilea.

Literal. Deus. Ex. Machina. Swoops down from the sky. To save her ass.

“I cannot protect you,” whispered the queen, her skin glowing. Her face was different, too—sharper, more beautiful. Her Fae heritage. “I cannot give you my strength.” She traced her fingers across Celaena’s brow. “But I can remove this poison from your body.”

But you just. Protected her? This is bullshit. And she keeps protecting Sardines, by battling Cain and the evil monsters that threaten Sardines.

(Also, I really love the super dumb and useless “Her Fae heritage” here. Like. Ok. What’s the point of this? Who cares about her heritage? Sardines is dying. Priorities? No? You just love your stupid Fae so goddamn much that you gotta remind us that the Fae Queen is indeed a Fae?)

Elena removes the poison from Sardines’s body and casts a debuff spell on Cain to impose vulnerability to melee attacks from bullshit assassins.

You think I’m trying to be funny, but this literally reads like Smaas played fucking Dragon Age and thought rewriting a cutscene would be a good idea.

“Stand,” Elena whispered again, and was gone. The world appeared.

Cain was close, not a trace of shadow around him. Celaena lifted the jagged remnant of the staff in her hand. Her gaze cleared.

And so, struggling and shaking, Celaena stood.

How inspiring.

I don’t care.

I hope y’all enjoyed Sardines getting the snot beaten out of her while it lasted. Time to get back to the usual wank.

#eff reads: throne of glass #book rants

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enolareven · 8 years

Text

Stop the arguments. Read a dictionary. Read the bible. (A letter to Republicans.)

Everyone else may as well pass over, because you already agree. Please do send this post to any Republicans or Trump Trolls you know or come across, because I put everything I could in here all in one letter.

Republican? Trump supporter?

So you think poor people are ‘takers’ or ‘leeches’.

To accept help or a gift is called ‘recieving’. As your business recieves money in exchange for goods and services. Sometimes, when you sell something, people give you money for other reasons than wanting your product, especially if you are in the entertainment business. They gave you the money...Did you leech or take it?

You think people should all work for themselves.

Do you really work? Did someone help you get where you are? Do you just sit around and extort money from people by owning their basic needs and charging ridiculous prices for it? Maybe your parents gave you a job, gave you free advice and education, gave you money? Not everyone had parents or money or access to education to begin with. It doesn’t make them lazy.

You think everyone should be independent.

I have heard that a Republican value is ‘less taxes’, ‘don’t touch what I earned’.

Why do all Republican politicians want to either raise taxes, or redistribute taxes into the military? What are we protecting so fiercely? A country where the sick, old, non-white, unmarried women, and born-poor can die on the street alone while rich cis-het white men spit on them? A country where veterans starve to death after returning from war? A country where teenagers are murdered at school for holding hands with someone of the same sex or wearing whatever non-offensive clothing they want? A country where men still regularly get away with rape scott free? A country where women are harassed and put down and verbally abused and told that their proper place is as someone’s sandwich and baby making machine?

Do you think you are ever really independent? You run a business....You depend on people buying your goods and services.

All of these people could be consumers. If you own apartments, low income housing brings your tax money back to you and supports them. If you own a grocery store, food stamps gives your tax money back to you and supports them. If you own hospitals, medicaid pays all of their expenses and supports them. If you’re in entertainment, welfare probably comes back to you and enriches their lives. You own hotels or travel companies? Those traveling business owners and workers have companies that are partially supported by these government programs. If you own a factory which produces any kind of goods... guess what? That cycle still applies to you.

The only people our next president wants to give back to are oil companies and weapon makers...one of which will be very likely become obsolete within my lifetime. He wants to make America suffer the Great Depression again. The cabinet is full of sick people who just want everyone to be like them, do what they say, and die otherwise.

Everyone has a right to life and fair treatment. You don’t like helping other people? I say tough shit. It’s the way it ought to be. Think any differently, and you have murderous ideals.

Families are ok taking care of sick blood relatives. Couples are ok taking care of a person they selected to commit to. Why should we not treat all disabled people like our grandfathers, brothers or sisters? What is wrong with our taxes supporting them? There is more than enough to go around.

Republicans are mostly bible thumping Christians....so...

READ THE BIBLE.

“Look at the flowers of the field- they neither till nor toil, yet every one of their needs is taken care of.” - Jesus Christ

He was saying that this is how God is. God takes care of everyone and provides for their needs.

“Love one another, as I have loved you.” - Jesus Christ

He was saying that to do as he has done, to provide for the poor and heal for the sick without asking anything in return, is the way into heaven. Their color, name they call God, and sexual recreational activities matter not. He didn’t say “except the poor, black, female, gay ,and muslim.”

Can you point out where it says in the bible “FUCK HELPING PEOPLE. Be selfish, keep what you’ve got and kick starving poor people off your huge ass lawn cause you don’t like looking at the color of their skin.”

If Jesus is the lord, why do you selectively listen to all the really terrible shit other people in the bible claim that they heard God say to them? Surely, if anyone burns in hell, it’ll be you, not the gay couple down the street.

Stop using the bible to defend your hatred and violent sadistic nature.

Lastly, I want to address the holier-than-though “I’m so logical’ type of Republican.

You think everyone owning guns will stop violent crime? If guns were easier to get, this would only INCREASE the ease of access to really fucked up people, dumbass. More people owning guns means more chances for bad people to steal those guns or to acquire those guns.

Democrats don’t necessarily want to send us back to all fighting with swords...they want guns kept inaccessible to civilians so only police and military can use them to protect us. Tell me one other place in the world where all people having access to guns has made for a more peaceful and safe society. You’re just an neurotic, obsessed gun nut who doesn’t feel confident enough in fighting off attackers with his fists.

As for the welfare crap...Welfare isn't taking anything away from anyone who needs it. That’s the whole point! It gives to people who need it. What the crap are you crying about? HOW THE HELL IS WELFARE DESTROYING OUR ECONOMY??? YOU’LL HAVE ONE LESS MOVIE TICKET PER YEAR SO A POOR FAMILY CAN HAVE FOOD? OH, SOB. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO COMPLAIN ABOUT PAYING TAXES. TAXES ARE FAIR AND WELFARE TRIES TO MAKE SURE EVERYONE HAS ENOUGH TO LIVE. If you have no issue with giving your tax money to building more totally unnecessary rockets and bombs, but you do have an issue with it feeding a ‘gross family of disgusting lower class colored people’ or ‘providing health care for some loathesome sodomite’ or protecting the planet which you live on and depend upon, Then you are fucked up, & downright stupid.

I love that we have taxes that take care of people. I love that the government does this. I love that there are doctors, nurses, psychologists, Christlike pastors, elder caretakers, food and clothes closets, Planned Parenthood, LGBT centers, people who dedicate their lives to helping others. I love this because it makes my work easier. It makes my life easier. I don’t to take time to help individual people constantly, and with more toward the right things it would leave less panhandlers on the street, less odor of people who are mentally handicapped and have no place to bathe, less sad sights of violent hate crimes...more educated people all over the country, more happy people. More people with money to spend, and therefore more beautiful variety and diversity in art, music, fashion, and even food. I would have been so happy if Bernie Sanders had become president and increased the tax percentage, taking away one small luxury from those who have them. And I will happily pay my taxes and donate money to charities should I ever become a billionaire. Fuck Trump, I look up to REAL successful businessmen like Bill Gates...Mark Zuckerburg (who even though I thing said some very twatty things, has given millions away to San Francisco’s only low-income hospital and pledged 99% of his stock to be given towards scientific advancements of humanity), and Michael Bloomberg (Who gave millions to help wean people off of coal energy.) Guys who didn’t go bankrupt 6 times and have recognizable names to pretty much everyone in the world before 2016, and actually paid their taxes.

I am far from a billionaire, in fact, I am below poverty level. I still donate 1% of my yearly income to people even less fortunate than me. Whatever I can spare.

If you are a Christian, you should have heard about tithing.

This is the deplorable sack of shit you voted for:

http://www.weeklystandard.com/for-years-trumps-charity-gave-veterans-little-more-than-peanuts/article/2000776

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royal-despair-threads · 6 years

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Seojun & Petra [Prologue]

Seojun thought back on the fight that a certain duo had gone through earlier, as he had the moment to just sit down and let his thoughts wander for a bit. While it was rather unorthodox and childish to have been fist fighting at a time where they needed to cooperate with one another, he could understand why. Tensions were high; especially since you didn't know who these people were. Perhaps, he should check on the both of them.

He went over to Petra first. Why? It was a good question, but she did mention that she liked Jazz, and not in a meme-kind of way. While he liked it both ways, hearing that she was a Jazz Singer caught his eye. She felt familiar, and even though he knew they never met, he's felt like he's heard of her somewhere.

Tapping on her shoulder, he offers a polite smile. "How're you holding up, considering the odds?" Not the best starter to a conversation, but not the worst, either.

As she always was, Petra was in a rather sour mood. This whole situation was beyond infuriating and the people were easily, easily the worst part. Approaching Petra in general was a poor idea, but approaching her when she was at a whole new level of annoyed? That was a worse idea.

"Obviously fucking NOT, you idiot," Petra scoffed. "In case you haven't fucking noticed, that freckly bitch punched my in the goddamn face, so now not only am I trapped in a cramped room with a bunch of fucking idiots, but now I've gotta deal with my face throbbing. So you tell me, how do you think you would be doing?"

Wow. Wow, okay, now that was a bit explosive in itself, and he hadn’t even tried to annoy her yet. Damn, she really was a mega-bitch. Normally, this would be the point where he walked away and just told himself “fuck this shit, i’m out”. Considering that she was in a pretty bad state though, it was almost bound to happen, so he stayed a little longer.

“I’d probably bitching everyone out like you are right now, honestly.” Seojun took a seat next to the red-head, letting a sigh pass his lips. “There’s too many big personalities in such a little space, and there’s still a couple knocked out. With no way out...yeah, bad timing, I know.”

“But since I’m here, I wanted to know a bit about you.” He turns his head towards her, raising an eyebrow. “You mentioned that you were the Ultimate Jazz Singer, right?”

Yeah, 'too many big personalities in one place' was a bit of an understatement. Just replace 'big' with annoying, and you've basically figured out exactly what Petra was thinking.

"Well thank fucking god you're using your logical reasoning skills," Petra snapped and rolled her eyes.

"So you want to know about me, huh? Yeah, I'm the Ultimate Jazz Singer. Do you want me to sing you a fucking lullaby or something?" Petra asked. "Why do you even care? Are you a musician or something?"

Actually, she was sort of hoping he was. She really hoped the only other musician here wasn't that blue-haired guitarist.

Well...

“Ahh...Yes, and no? I do sing, but even though people have told me I sound like some kind of mix between Frank Sinatra and Michael Buble, I know I’m not on an Ultimate level of skill like you, or that guitarist over there.” His answers were ended by a shrug of his shoulders. This would probably displease her, but what else could Seojun do?

“As for why I care? You might be surprised by this....or you might not be, who knows. But, I’ve listened to some of your work, Petra.” A smile dawned upon his lips once again, as he flicked his hair to the side. “You are definitely worthy of your title, I’ll just put it that way.”

Ah yes, a compliment. As if she’d never come across those before. It was pretty common for people to shoot her a compliment in hopes she would suddenly warm up to them. It usually didn’t work.

“You know what? Normally my standards wouldn’t be this low, but thank fucking god someone here actually knows what Jazz is. I thought this place was just full of moronic heathens, but I guess you managed to be a step above every other idiot here,” Petra said with a cruel laugh.

“Well obviously I’m worthy of my title, I worked my fucking ass off to train my voice,” Petra said. “But enough about me, you still haven’t even mentioned your fucking name.”

Technically, he did, but he supposed that she wasn’t around to hear what it was with all of the commotion going on. He was rather shell-shocked to hear that he managed to be tolerable around her, but when she asked for his information...oh dear, he was definitely going to sink back to the bottom, knowing her personality.

“Right, I haven’t, have I? The name’s Seojun Tsoi. My talent is, uh...” He gave a laugh himself, facing away for a moment, before facing back towards her. “If I’m a step above every other idiot here now, then you don’t wanna hear my talent.”

“Regardless, an introduction is an introduction. I received the title of the Ultimate Internet Troll.” Aaaand here comes the onslaught.

Petra.exe has stopped working. She honestly, for a second there, completely blanked out. Did this guy really just say his talent was being an Internet Troll? Did he actually say that with sincerity, no joking?

She let out a loud laugh. She could already feel tears coming to her eyes as she held onto her stomach for dear life. Oh my god, this was rich! She couldn’t breathe!

“Y-You seriously mean to tell me that Hope’s Peak seriously have you the title of ‘Internet Troll’? What the fuck? That’s gotta be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!! What the fuck!!!” She honestly couldn’t stop laughing. There was no way to tell if it was real laughter or not.

“Oh my god, you’re a fucking joke,” Petra said and wiped tears away from her eyes. “How the fuck do you even get a talent like that? Make incel jokes on reddit all day?”

As soon as his title came out of his lips, Seojun knew that he was in for a helluva roasting himself, by someone that he respected over the sound waves of her music. He had to admit, some of these insults that she gave out were harsh as hell. He braced himself for the worst.

And, it was bad. It truly was, especially the part with the incel jokes. The Internet Troll knew he wouldn't be taken seriously as soon as his talent was exposed. That was the irony of it all; he'd have to impress everyone because of his disadvantage of a useless title.

Was it useless? Who knows. "I'll give you this; the incel jokes are probably saved for the "men are stronger than women" guy known as Takuma. Making incel jokes is low, and aren't witty at all." A smile dawned across his face, though it almost seemed forced. Seojun stared down at his hand for a moment. "I told someone here that it's like being a stand up comedian; it takes luck, wit, and the right words to say. If you've ever seen some of these Twitter accounts nowadays, think of something like that."

"Yeah, I know it's a dumb talent on the surface. Hope's Peak really fucked me over in bestowing such a title, but I'm not that much of an asshole...I think."

“Well Jesus Christ, don’t you wish Hope’s Peak had given you the title of ‘Social Media Personality’ or some shit?” Petra snorted. “God, Internet Troll, that’s gotta be the worst talent I’ve ever heard. It’s even worse than that stupid shit like ‘Ultimate Fortune Teller’ or other bullshit supernatural talents.”

She flicked her hair over her shoulder. It was still a bit tangled from when that bitch grabbed it.

“Hey Troll Doll, I’ll stop laughing at you if happen to have a comb I can use on you,” Petra said.

Seojun couldn’t help but let out a slight snicker himself. These insults may have been directed towards him, but something he learned was that if he laughed them off, they won’t bother him as much. “To be honest, I believe there could be much, much worse. I’ve heard people were accepted as magical girls at one point. Cute, but...I don’t see how that’s a talent, you know?”

“As for a comb, I usually keep one on me, but since I can’t find most of my things, I can’t hold too many promises. Still, I’ll check.” With that, he checks inside all of his pockets. Jacket pockets, pants pockets, even the pocket inside his button up shirt, which was under the blue and red one. Any luck on finding a comb?

After a while of searching, he felt something in his shirt pocket. "....Ah-" Quickly, he snatched, and flung it out. Indeed, there was a black comb ready to use. A smile grew onto his lips, before made a small "a-ha" sound. "It's your lucky day, Miss Sakai."

He held this new item out towards her, in case she wanted to take it. "Now, do you want me to comb it out, or are you good?"

Petra snatched the comb from his hand.

"What am I? Four? I'm not a little kid, I can comb my own hair," Petra scoffed. She removed the bow from her hair and began to comb it out with the comb so graciously provided by Seojun. Ah, better already. She carefully combed it through a couple of times and continued speaking, "For the record, magical girls is a fucking stupid ass talent too and Hope's Peak needs to get its act together...but as promised, I'll stop laughing at you and your weird talent."

She finished combing and fixed her bow back in place before tossing the comb back for Seojun to catch.

"So you like Jazz. Any favorites?" she asked, referring to both artists and songs.

As the comb was snatched out of the man’s hands so quickly, he couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle, listening to her rant about the various talents that were considered to be unacceptable upon her standards. As she tossed him back the comb, he caught it with his left hand, giving a thank you in response. Hearing her question, though, that sent him chuckling. That was always a hard question, you could say.

“I figured you’d ask this. I do have some favorites. Frank Foster’s ’Here and Now’, Julia London’s ’Cry Me a River’...There’s also Kurt Elling and his music in general, Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald...And how can I forget about your music? Like I said, I’ve listened to some of it before.” He paused for a moment, thinking back on something. “...Though, I’m not sure if ’Late Nights and Heartbreak’ would also count. That’s a really good one.”

“Your turn. Any favorites you may have?”

"Hm, not bad," Petra replied, particularly his mention of Ella Fitzgerald. Complimenting Petra's muse was a good, quick way to get her to consider to be less of a demon. Less of, not stop entirely.

"You really shouldn't try so hard to kiss my ass. Am I really supposed to believe my two fucking original songs were life changing enough to be put on the same level of Ella Fitzgerald. I'm not gonna fucking kid myself and you shouldn't either," Petra said. "Late Nights and Heartbreak has Jazz influence, so I'll give you that one. But that's it."

Her favorites? "I'm impartial to Ella Fitzgerald and Dizzy Gillespie. Obviously Duke Ellington is fantastic as well and Miles Davis. A Night in Tunisia is a song my parents would often play in the house during their murders, so I have some strong fucking memories associated with that one."

Kissing her ass? He was just being honest - he was kind of a sucker for jazz, and even though he loved rock, hip-hop, and other genres, there was something about the old fashioned music that had him captivated. "Ah, I'm glad that I wasn't wrong about that song." Oh, and Duke Ellington was quite a talent himself as well, how could he forget about-

Hold on. Rewind. Did Petra just say...?

"...Ah, don't mean to be invading your privacy or anything, but..." Seojun blinked rapidly for a few seconds, as if he was making sure the information was actually registering properly. "...Can you explain what you mean by...their murders? And why they played A Night in Tunisia for that?"

Petra just examined her nails as though this whole thing was the opposite of a big deal, as though she was used to explaining it.

“Valentin and Alena Voronov were my real parents. You might not have heard of them if don’t have an interest in true crime, but they were the Honeymoon Killers,” Petra explained almost...eagerly, as though she was deeply excited to discuss this. “Basically, they were famous serial killers. They used to blast Jazz through the house so the neighbors wouldn’t hear the victims scream. They were particularly fond of playing rowdier Jazz such as bebop for their murders. I think it got them more excited.”

She grinned, waiting for any reaction out of him. “Satisfied with that answer, Troll Doll?”

He seemed to have been stunned for a moment, after hearing the full explanation to the melodious vixen's mention to the murders comment. Seojun definitely...was not expecting to hear some horror tales in this room today. The blonde ran a hand through his hair, still processing all of this information. Finally, his eyes darted to meet with her hazel, and let's just say they were wide as saucers.

"...God, damn." He hissed out, nervously laughing. This was a little intimidating. Turns out, someone that he's listened to was the daughter of the Honeymoon Killers. "...Uh...Did they ever...y'know...get caught? That's gotta be some...pretty dark shit right there, Petra."

Petra began to pick at her nails. Yeah, she definitely needed a fresh coat of paint.

“Obviously they got caught,” Petra scoffed. “Why the fuck do you think my last name is Sakai and not Voronov? I’d still be living with them if they hadn’t been found out. What? Do you think they just abandoned me or some shit to live a life on the run from the cops? Fat fucking chance.”

She stopped looking at nails to grin at him. “You’re not the first fucking person to freak out so much about this. It’s not even a big deal. They’re not even fucking alive anymore.”

Damn. She took it all like it was some kind of joke, and the reason why was a big fat mystery to Seojun. "I didn't mean that they'd do that to you." The man reassured lightly, giving another sheepish smile back towards the Jazz Singer. At the mention of her parents not being alive anymore, he couldn't help but shift his gaze slightly, scratching the back of his head.

"In regards to that last part...Well, looks like we sort of have something in common, huh?"

He stopped. Shit, this wasn't his moment to be revealing parts of his own past. Not right now. He turned back to the red-headed vixen with a smile, laughing once again. "Sorry. Forget I said that. I guess I don't usually hear something like what you told me every day."

“Yeah, dead parents, isn’t that a fucking trope?” Petra snorted. “Its a fucking stupid one, anyway. I dunno how your parents died, but I’m guessing people don’t at least spit on their graves.”

She sighed and shook her head, something strangely pensive about her expression.

“Whatever. I’ll ‘forget’ what you said even though I don’t really care that much,” Petra said. “Whatever, though, find someone else to troll for a bit. This has gotten boring.”

Petra gave him a lazy wave before walking away.

#seojun #petra #prologue

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