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uvobreakmylegs · 3 years

Text

Importunity

a lot of people wanted a Shalnark fic so here ya go~

💕Happy Valentine’s Day💕

Warnings: kidnapping, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of death, threats of violence

You'd gotten out.

Your brain was a little too high on the adrenaline of a successful escape for you to think over how exactly you had managed it, but you'd gotten out. The months of living with the man named Shalnark had been slowly wearing you down, exhausting you and at times you considered giving in to him. To 'let him love you', as he put it. Things would've been easier if you could just resign yourself to him and try to live that sweet lie that this relationship was normal and also one that you were still willingly part of.

But resilience held strong, and after many, many attempts at escape, you finally managed to make it to the outside while he was away.

Of course, you were only done with the first part of this plan.

For the second half, you needed to get out of the area before Shalnark came back. And so you were speed-walking through the busy streets of the city, keeping your head down for fear of Shalnark coming back and spotting you. You had never gotten this far before; if he caught you, whatever punishment you would receive for this attempt would be much worse than what he'd done to you previously. And whatever he did to you, he would have that same sickeningly-sweet smile on his face the entire time.

How could a person look so cheerful while they hurt someone else?

At one point you did like Shalnark. You would have gone as far as to say that you loved him. He was nice, if a little bit odd, but after your bad breakup with your ex, Shalnark felt like a breath of fresh air. He was happy to give you attention and eager to go out with you. When the two of you were together, his focus was 100% on you. And the sex was actually good. Shalnark was everything your ex wasn't, and you were happy that you had met such a man.

But after a little while of dating, once the exhilarating feeling of entering a new relationship had died down, red flags started popping up. Like how obsessive Shalnark was when it came to you. How he'd regularly go through your phone to delete contacts of yours, or how he had downloaded weird apps to your phone and computer so he could “keep an eye on you”. The phone made a little bit of sense, maybe, but the computer? You'd questioned him and tried to get him to uninstall those apps off your devices, but he refused.

“Shalnark, do you not trust me?”

At the time, you assumed that this behavior came from a fear that you would cheat on him, and that hurt you more than you had anticipated.

He sensed that as well, as it was one of the few times his cheerful expression vanished, watching you as tears began to well up in your eyes at the thought that he believed you to be a cheater.

Shalnark grabbed you then, holding you against his chest.

“It isn't that at all,” he assured you, stroking your hair.

“I really do want to make sure that you're safe. This is all just in case of a worst-case scenario. If something bad happens and I need to find you immediately.”

He pulled away from you slightly, cupping your face with both hands as he smiled at you again.

“So don't cry, okay?”

“.... What are you worried about exactly?” you asked.

“Lots of things.”

He didn't give you any answers beyond that.

You tried overlooking it. Tried to keep your mind on the positives, but more red flags kept popping up. How he would leave for long periods of time with no explanation, how when he came back, he was sometimes covered in cuts and bruises, and how he would always brush away your concerns and cheerfully refuse to tell you anything. Whenever he was back, he wouldn't let you be around any of your friends, insisting on taking up every second of free time that you had. But when it came to his private life he was willing to drop everything and leave you without explanation.

You felt like you were being used. And you reached your breaking point when he had tried to insist that you not spend any time with your friends when he was out of town.

“I can't do this anymore,” you said, head in your hands as the two of you stood in the kitchen.

“What do you mean?”

“I want to break up.”

Seconds passed by, and Shalnark said nothing. When you moved your hands aside to look at him, he was still smiling at you.

“I see,” he said.

He didn't sound angry, and for a second you wondered if he had been treating you badly to make you break up with him.

Without another word, he pulled out a strange looking needle.

You didn't remember anything after that.

All you knew was when you awoke next, you were in a completely different room in a completely different apartment with Shalnark standing over you.

“I guess I should have seen it coming,” he said to you, “it seems I pushed you a little too hard. But that's all right. We can start over now.”

You were at a loss for words for a few moments as you struggled to understand the situation.

“Start over?” you finally asked.

“Yep.”

“Shalnark, no. I broke up with you.”

“I don't care. I'm keeping you here,” he answered.

“No. I-I don't want to be here,” you said, shaking your head.

“Please Shalnark. Let me go home.”

He grinned, sitting down on the bed with you and grabbing you when you tried to pull away, leaning in until your foreheads were touching.

“Not a chance,” he whispered.

From there the nightmare worsened. You couldn't leave the apartment, and any time you tried, he would catch you and hurt you. Every time, he told you that he didn't want to do it. That it was your fault because you kept misbehaving.

“Things would be easier if you stopped lying to yourself. I know you still have feelings for me.”

You refused to think about that fact. Even though the way he had been treating you before the kidnapping had hurt you, part of you did still care about him. One part of your stupid brain still cared about this incredibly callous man even after everything he had done had you wanting to give in, and you hated yourself for it. It had to have been an act, right? The way he had been when you first met, and how he claimed that he loved you. There was no way he was capable of it. He just wanted to hurt you for his own sick pleasure, and you vowed to never give in to him. You would get away from him and tell the whole world just how much of a sick fuck he was.

You told him that. In the heat of the moment, you had said it right to his face.

He just smiled, and you blacked out again.

The next morning you had awoken to your whole body aching; your muscles were sore and you could barely move your arms and legs. When you stumbled into the bathroom to inspect yourself you found that there were also several cuts and bruises over your entire body.

“Something the matter?”

Shalnark was standing in the doorway, looking pleased with himself as he looked you over.

“.... Shalnark, what did you do?”

He ignored the question, giving you a closed-eyed smile and asking if you wanted breakfast.

You shook those thoughts from your head. Right now, you needed to concentrate on getting away. Once you were safe and had made certain that Shalnark wouldn't be able to touch you again, you'd find a therapist who could help you deal with your trauma and hopefully then you'd be able to go back to being a regular member of society. But right now, you needed to leave before Shalnark came back from his errand and found you missing.

You followed signs pointing in the direction of the subway, which was most likely the fastest way out and the only form of fast transportation that you could really afford, as the meager pile of change you had managed to collect behind his back was all that you had in terms of cash. Just enough to get you to a station on the outskirts of the city and then you'd figure it out from there. You just needed to get as much distance from him as you possibly could.

The streets were fairly crowded, and you needed to dip and weave your way through several groups of people that were walking far too slow and hindering your escape. You'd bumped into a few people, all of who were asking what your problem was as you hurried away. With all of the time that had passed since you were taken, you were certain that you'd been listed as a missing person, but being recognized as that right now wouldn't do you any good.

You spotted the steps that lead down to the underground subway, and against your better judgment, you felt a wave of relief wash over you as you cut through the crowded street to make it down those steps. Things could still go wrong. You knew that. But you were so close and if you could just get onto that train you'd finally be able to get help.

When you were just a few feet away from the top step, a hand grabbed you by the upper arm.

Your mind instantly told you that it was Shalnark, but when you looked to your side, you found an older man with graying hair holding you in place. You didn't recognize him, but he was yelling at you in a language you didn't understand. What you did to earn this reaction, you weren't sure, but it was costing you time and drawing attention as people around you turned to look at the commotion.

“I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're saying,” you said, trying to pull your arm away from him. Instead his grip became tighter and he grew red in the face, virtually screaming at you.

You didn't need this. And you needed to go now.

“Please let me go,” you tried, but it got you nowhere. The old man was still screaming and the crowd around you had stepped back, creating a circle around the two of you. There were murmurings all around you that slowly grew louder, and at one point you swore you heard someone say your name, but all you could really focus on was the old man and the way your heart was beating in your ears as your panic grew at a rapid pace. This was already a scene and with how unstable the man was acting, it could easily become violent.

You were scared. Scared that this man would hurt you, but more so you were scared that Shalnark would somehow manage to catch wind of this and track you down.

No one helped you as you tried to pull away again, the old man responding by jerking your arm harder, making you cry out. Why was no one helping you?

You kicked him in the groin. Hard.

The old man's screaming finally stopped as he stumbled backwards, releasing his grip on you.

You sprinted away, pushing past the people who had gathered in front of the subway stairs.

Someone grabbed you by the wrist, and you were spun around as you yanked your hand back.

You didn't actually see how close you were to the top step, but the momentum of pulling your wrist away sent you flying back.

You were aware of how your heel slipped over the edge of the top step.

And then you were falling.

Down into the darkened space of the subway station, and away from the crowd of people that stared at you, making no move to stop your fall.

Why was no one helping?

Your head hit the bottom of the stairs.

You probably hit a few other places on your body before you reached the bottom, but it was impossible to tell once you'd hit your head. You were too disoriented to tell what else was hurting; you could only focus on the pain in the back of your skull.

God, it hurt.

The world around you began to blur and you could only make out shapes and colors. At a certain point everything began spinning and you needed to close your eyes to keep from throwing up. You threw up anyway. At least, you thought you did. Trying to move was a mistake, and you were forced to keep still while you heard people talking around you. Hands that were grabbing you, hoisting you up at one point.

When you heard sirens you cracked your eyes open slightly and you were immediately punished by bright white lights above you that forced you to shut your eyes again.

A hand grabbed your face and pulled it to the side, making the pain in your skull shoot through you. Someone was prodding at spot where your head had hit the ground, brushing your hair aside to look at the injury. They weren't being gentle, either.

You were pretty sure you threw up again.

Time passed in bits and pieces.

A lot of talking, though you couldn't make out what was said.

A lot of faces you didn't recognize, looking down at you. They didn't seem happy, and you wondered why.

A lot of different machines, that you were either put into or were placed around you. Needles, tubes and fresh white sheets.

You tried talking a few times. You weren't always sure if there was anyone around when you did, but you always tried when you felt like you had the strength.

It'd be nice to know why you couldn't smell anything.

If you were able to get out any coherent sentences, no one ever answered you.

A sterile white ceiling greeted you when you opened your eyes next. There were noises, too. A dull chatter of voices from beyond the room and a constant beeping that sounded from the machines next to you. The amount of time it took you to realize that the plain white room was a hospital room was embarrassing, really. It should have been the medical equipment that tipped you off, but it was only when you got a look at the plastic barriers around the bed that you were able to deduce where you were.

Your head was still aching. How far had you fallen? Would there be permanent damage? In your haziness you managed to remember that most hospital rooms had a button to call for a nurse. Best to find that and try to get some answers.

But when you tried moving your arm, you found that your wrist was stuck on something.

Looking down, you saw that your wrists and ankles had been strapped to the bed and you were barely able to move them a few inches.

They only strapped people down when they were acting violent, right? Why would they do this to you? You couldn't remember a lot, so maybe you had acted out at one point before you got here? What other reason would they have to tie you down?

Shalnark.

In the midst of your confusion over your current situation, you remembered the man you were trying to get away from. The fact that you were in a situation where you were tied down and completely vulnerable sent a rush of adrenaline through you and you struggled at your restraints. He'd be coming for you, and you did not want to still be here once he found this hospital.

One of the machines next to you began to beep rapidly, signifying your increased heart rate and echoing in the small room.

You hadn't made any progress on freeing yourself when the door burst open, a woman in a white nurse's dress standing in the doorway. She took only a second to assess the situation before she came at you with a needle in hand.

“Please, I can't stay here. He'll find me!” you begged her.

She didn't acknowledge you and only held one of your arms as she injected whatever substance was in the needle into your veins. Whatever it was, it worked fast as you felt yourself beginning to drift back off into sleep.

“He'll hurt me,” you whispered.

The nurse above you scoffed.

“If only.”

Days passed by, and you felt like you were getting better. Not completely better, but your bouts of slipping back into unconsciousness seemed to stop after a point, and the ache in your skull had dulled a bit.

The treatment from the few that were around you didn't get any better. As you slowly recovered from your fall, you were able to see the way in which the nurses regarded you: disgust, mostly, and a fair amount of resentment whenever they needed to come in to take care of you. The one you saw most often was the nurse you had seen when you had first woken up. She was an older woman, and refused to give you any painkillers.

“I knew Regina's mother,” she hissed at you one morning, “what you did to those people was monstrous.”

“.... Who's Regina?”

Your question had earned you a harsh slap to the face, and your evening meal that day came later than usual and tasted worse than the regular hospital meal.

Detectives came in sometimes. Strangely enough they would ask you questions about your relationship with your ex and the last time you had seen him, but they left pretty fast whenever you tried bringing up the fact that you'd been kidnapped. You would only ever get as far as telling them Shalnark's name before they were heading back out the door.

“We'll get the truth when you're well enough to be brought in to the station,” they had said on their last visit.

Based off how you had been doing, it probably wouldn't be long before you were moved to a more secure location.

With no tv or books to occupy your time and the fact that you remained with your hands and legs tied down, there was little else you could do during your time in that room besides think. No one was telling you anything, and you were left to try and figure things out on your own. You had been blamed for something, that was certain, and based off of the reactions of those around you and the fact that you had seen various cops sitting outside your door whenever a nurse came in, it was something serious.

It was Shalnark's doing. It had to have been. Had he framed you for a crime?

Those blackouts you would occasionally have came to mind, along with that morning you had awoken to your entire body feeling sore and overworked. It had been reasonable to suspect that he had done something to you during those times, but you had assumed he was fucking you in your sleep or something. It had never occurred to you that he was using you to do something more.

But aside from that, it was strange he was taking so long to come and get you.

Moving fast was the only way you potentially had any chance of getting away from him, and for you to have not seen him once since your very public apprehending didn't feel right. Once he had figured out where you were, surely he would have been fast in taking you back. It would have been easier than ever if he had come immediately after your fall. The fact that you had remained her for so long could only mean that he was planning something.

You remembered the detectives' words, on how they would be moving you to the police station once you got better. If Shalnark wasn't planning on coming into the hospital to get you, was he waiting for your relocation in order to make his move?

You needed to get out of the hospital before it came to that, you decided.

A frenzied escape attempt with no thought put into it was bound to get you caught. You had learned that much during your time trapped with Shalnark. You needed to keep calm and not draw any attention to yourself. If you freaked out too much and made too much noise, that nurse would come back in, inject you with those drugs and you would lose valuable hours that you needed to get away.

Slowly, and with a great deal of effort, you wiggled the wrist of your dominant hand around in an attempt to get it out of the restraint. Though the straps were made of fabric, it was a stiffer material, and after a fair amount of wiggling, the skin around your wrist was raw and bloody as you tried to loosen it while making your hand as small as possible.

Somehow, after hours of pulling as hard as you could, you finally freed your hand, gasping out a sigh of relief as you took a moment to rest. Luckily, no one had come to check on you yet, but it would be impossible to hide the fact that your hand was no longer tied down if they came too close. At least the remaining restraints were easier to get off, but now you were faced with your next problem: getting out of the room.

It was getting close to evening, around the time when someone would come in to feed you. Whoever came in always came with the sedatives, but you had noticed that most of the staff had been growing somewhat lax during your time here, and you would use that to your advantage.

When the next nurse came in, you were back in your usual spot on the bed, having arranged the sheets in a way so she couldn't see that you weren't tied down. She was a younger, quieter woman who avoided looking at you if she could. And as expected, a needle full of sedatives were on the tray she brought in with your meal.

When she set the tray down, you told her “someone slipped something under the door earlier.”

“What?”

You motioned with your head.

“Earlier, somebody slipped something under the door. I'm not sure what it was, but it looked like paper?”

“I don't see anything.”

“I think it went flying when you opened the door,” you explained.

She sighed, turning away from you to look at the area around the door. When she began to walk forward, you jumped off the bed as quietly as you could and reached for the needle.

“I still don't see anythi-”

Your hand covered her mouth as you stuck the needle into her neck, pushing its contents into her. She struggled briefly and went as far as to bite your hand, but within moments she was out, falling out of your grasp and onto the floor.

You felt terrible as you dragged the nurse across the floor and hid her behind the bed. There was no way you had the strength to lift her up and place her in the bed; you hadn't moved for weeks now and your muscles felt strained just from dragging her. Her neck was bleeding a bit, and you sincerely hoped you had just knocked her out and hadn't managed to do anything that would damage her permanently. If only it had been the nurse who had slapped you that you had come across, then at least you wouldn't have felt as bad.

You felt even worse when you forced yourself to remove her clothing. She was a bit wider than you were and her clothes didn't fit all that well, but it would hopefully work as a disguise so you could get out of the building. At least the long-sleeved sweater she had been wearing would cover the wound around your wrist. In an effort to give her some sort of apology, you placed a blanket over her.

“Everything all right in there?” a voice from outside suddenly called.

…. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You'd forgotten about the officer outside the room.

“Yeah, everything's fine,” you answered, trying to imitate the nurse's voice as best you could.

“Okay,” was the answer. You didn't think that you sounded much like her, but evidently it was good enough.

“Do you mind waiting in there for a little bit?” the officer asked through the door, “I need to use the restroom.”

“Y-yeah, go ahead.”

“Thanks.”

At least there was a little bit of luck on your side, it seemed. You couldn't believe that you'd managed to forget that there was someone on the outside watching over you, but that problem seemed to have taken care of itself. Best not to try and rely on getting so lucky every time, though.

After a few moments, you peeked your head outside the door, and when you found the coast to be clear, you began to hurry down the hallway.

There weren't many people in the halls, and the ones that were there didn't seem to notice you in your slightly over-sized clothes and shoes. Still, you kept your head down and moved as fast as you could, not willing to risk someone recognizing you again. A staff-only stairway caught your attention, and you pushed on the heavy door and entered the dimly-lit stairwell.

You traveled down several flights of stairs to get to the ground floor. It would probably be a bad idea to try to leave through the front entrance. Finding some kind of side or back door would be best; something like that shouldn't be too hard to find.

A directory caught your attention, and you noted the arrow that pointed the way to a loading bay. It wouldn't be an area that would be open to visitors or regular patients, but there was the chance that hospital workers could be in there. But you didn't know how much time you had left before that nurse was discovered and you were found to be missing, and you didn't want to waste time wandering the halls trying to find an exit. Right now you needed to hope you would just be lucky.

Your luck held as you made it to the loading bay, as the others roaming the hospital halls were too absorbed in their own tasks to pay attention to you. And to your delight, no one was in the loading area either. This was perfect. Just a few more steps and you'd be free. You stumbled a bit down the steps of the platform before you decided to cast off the ill-fitting shoes. It was dumb to run around a city barefoot, but hopefully you could find a change of clothes somewhere and get rid of the whole nurse getup completely.

The cement was cold against your feet as you ran across it. You'd be out of here and then you could focus on getting out of this goddamned city.

As you came up to a pillar, a figure jumped out in front of you. You were too slow to react, and you ran right into it.

“Found you~”

It was a voice that you knew well, and you found that you recognized the shirt that your face was currently pressed up against. Not a lot of men wore purple pastel.

Shalnark was beaming down at you as he wrapped his arms around your back and kept you pressed against him.

“I missed you so much!” he continued, “Really, words can't describe how miserable I was without you around.”

“L-let me go!” you cried, trying to get out of his grasp. He only pulled you in closer.

“But we just found each other again. How could I let you go after we've been apart for so long?” Shalnark said.

You continued to struggle, trying to slip out of his arms that held you in whatever way you could. Shalnark seemed content to watch you writhe in his grasp, but he seemed to tire of it as he let out a quiet sigh and released you. You immediately pushed off from him and ran back to the stairs.

“Who's going to help you in there?”

You had only reached the foot of the stairs when he asked that, and you stopped in your tracks. He had a point. Everyone hated you, to put it lightly. It was unlikely that anyone would come to help you even if you begged them to. Turning back to Shalnark, you found him holding his phone out. He had pulled something up on the screen but it was too far away for you to read.

“Don't you want to know what's going on?” he asked, “come back over and you can find out.”

You shook your head.

“Oh? I thought you would have had questions. You sure you don't want to know?”

“I do,” you admitted, “but I also don't want to be anywhere near you. You'll make me black out again.”

“I won't do that,” he said, “there'd be no point in doing that right now. I promise, I won't do anything. Just come back to me.”

Your hand gripped the railing of the stairs and you looked back to the hospital's back entrance. Every fiber of your being wanted to run back inside, even if you would just be restrained and knocked out again.

“C'mon,” Shalnark tried again, “I'm literally holding all of the answers. All you need to do is walk back over.”

This was some kind of trick. It had to be. Shalnark wasn't forthcoming in anything and his promises meant nothing. All this was some sort of way to entrap you.

But if that was the case, then you were trapped anyway. You had no chance of being able to outrun or outsmart him. Once he caught sight of you, you were caught even before he had held you in his arms. He was letting you move around for now. If you made another break for the door, you'd be knocked out again.

Your hand released itself from the railing, and you slowly walked back to him, every step hesitant as you waited for him to pull something.

For once, Shalnark stayed true to his word as he didn't move when you got closer. He even tossed the phone over to you when you got close enough. You caught it with shaking hands, looking back up at him while he held his hands up in mock surrender.

“See? Nothing bad. I just want you to read it.”

There was no way that was all he wanted, and though it was a stupid idea to take your eyes off of him, with how insistent he was being on this you complied with his demands and looking at the article he had pulled up on his phone.

You had guessed at what he had made you do. In your time stuck in that room, running through in your head the ways that people had treated you, how they had reacted to just seeing you, and you knew that he had made you do something horrific.

But it was still hard to read those words that proclaimed you to be a murderer.

Your ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend, a woman you'd never met named Regina, had been found outside of his car, beaten to death. That same night, the house where Regina's family lived had been set on fire, her mother, father and siblings having all been trapped upstairs and succumbing to the smoke and flames. DNA evidence at both crime scenes pointed to you.

There was a photo, too. Grainy and probably taken from a surveillance camera, but the details were clear enough: you, walking outside, stone-faced and covered in blood.

“Shalnark,” you said slowly, “what did you do?”

“Me? I didn't do anything,” he said, laughing, “it's pretty clear that you're the one who killed your ex and his girlfriend in a jealous rage.”

“No,” you protested, “I-I didn't. It was you. You controlled me. Made me do it.”

“Yeah,” Shalnark admitted. He stepped towards you to take the phone back, adding “but how are you going to prove something like that in court?”

“.... Why?”

The answer to that question was obvious, but you couldn't think of anything else to say.

“Because of that thing you said: that you'd expose me to the world or something. After all we've been through, it made me really sad that you still feel like that,” he explained, “I felt like I wasn't getting anywhere with you. So I decided that some drastic measures were in order.

“You've been really desperate to get away from me, but I wondered: would you still be like that if you knew there was no chance of going back to the way things were?”

“.... What are you saying?” you asked.

“I'll let you choose,” Shalnark answered, “if you really don't want to be with me, I'll let you go. But with all of the evidence there is against you, you'll probably be looking at a life sentence in prison.”

He hummed, hand on his chin as he thought to himself.

“I don't see you doing too well in a prison, personally. And with how bad your crimes were, you'd be sent to the worst one they can find.”

“A-and if I go back with you?” you asked after a moment.

“Then we'll go back to normal!” he said cheerfully, “you'll keep living with me and loving me, and I'll keep you safe. Doesn't that sound nicer than being locked up in some prison?”

“I.....” you began, trailing off. Shalnark waited patiently for you to continue.

“I-I could run away. Go to Meteor City....?”

The sentence came out more like a question.

“You could,” said Shalnark, “but Meteor City won't take you. In fact, if you were to step one foot inside you'd be dead in an instant.”

All of this was becoming too much, and you began to hyperventilate at the thought of what he had made you do to cut off an escape to Meteor City.

“Oh, don't worry. It wasn't nearly as dramatic as the other murders; you just stabbed a guy,” Shalnark explained, “but Meteor City doesn't like it when one of theirs is killed for no reason, so if they find you, they'll retaliate in kind. You're pretty lucky the police here kept your location under wraps; I can't imagine how many attempts on your life there would have been if they'd managed to find out.

“But more importantly, what's your decision? Am I taking you back with me or are you going to reject me one final time?”

Seconds turned into minutes as the two of you stood in in that loading bay, Shalnark waiting for your answer while your brain scrambled to figure out what to do. You couldn't go back with Shalnark. Not after all he had done and all you had tried to get away from him. But he was right that you wouldn't survive in a prison. Not that you would have very long to live if you did go to one, as someone from Meteor City would be fast to find and kill you for the man you murdered.

Oh god, what were your parents going through? To have your name be blasted on the headlines as a serial killer. How many friends had they lost? How were they handling the inevitable ostracization they were going through? How many people were trying to hurt them because they couldn't get to you? And did your parents believe you had done all those things? Did they hate you? Was it the same case for your friends and other family? Or would they be able to distance themselves enough that the court of public opinion wouldn't judge them? All of that didn't even go into what you would go through if you were brought to trial. Your entire character would be picked apart and you would go down in the records as a crazed ex-girlfriend who couldn't stand the thought of the guy she liked being with another woman. And that would last until Meteor City came for you.

A potentially longer life stuck with Shalnark, or one that would definitely be much shorter as you were tried for crimes you didn't commit?

It had started to rain as the two of you stood there, and the cold rainwater ran down the slanted entrance of the loading bay and past your bare feet, making you shiver.

Then you heard police sirens in the distance.

“I think they've found out that you escaped,” said Shalnark, “it's now or never.”

You stood still, staring at him dumbly.

He hummed to himself.

“I see,” he said. Then Shalnark turned, and began to walk away.

True panic hit you at the sight of him leaving you behind. Without Shalnark, you would be at the mercy of the police. You'd be at the mercy of a whole world that thought you were a murderer and wouldn't care if you died. Shalnark at least cared a bit, in his own selfish way that didn't regard your feelings in the slightest.

If you didn't go with Shalnark, you would die.

That thought forced your legs to move you forward, and you reached out to grasp the back of his shirt in a desperate bid to keep him from leaving.

He stopped, and for a moment, the two of you stayed there like that.

Shalnark spun around suddenly, grabbing your shoulders to pull you into a kiss.

It was hard to not resist, and after a few seconds, you pushed forward to make yourself kiss him back.

He was grinning ear to ear when he pulled away.

“I knew you'd make the right choice. I knew you couldn't hate me so much to choose death over me.”

He pulled you into a hug, stroking your back as he told you “don't worry; I wouldn't have actually let you go. There's nothing in this world that could ever make me abandon you.”

You weren't sure if you should believe him or not.

“We'd better get out of here. This place'll be infested with cops pretty soon.”

You wordlessly accepted the hand he held out to you after he pulled away, and you let him lead you out into the rain and the street beyond. He immediately walked you to an awaiting taxi cab, ushering you into the back before he slid in behind you. The taxi driver didn't acknowledge when the two of you entered, and when you looked over to him, you saw a familiar-looking bat shaped needle sticking in his arm.

The car drove off with the two of you inside after Shalnark typed in a few commands on his phone, and he set it aside to focus on you.

“I didn't mention it earlier, but I actually really like that nurse look,” he said, leaning forward to pull down the sweater so he could get a better look at the nurse's dress you had stolen.

“Hmm. It's a little big on you, though,” he commented as he pulled at the fabric a bit to prove his point, “if I buy you one that fits, will you wear it for me?”

You nodded.

Shalnark, grinned, bringing you into another hug.

You wanted to push him away like you had done before, but things were different now. You had chosen to stay with him. Now you needed to accept his advances. Even though he had said that he would never abandon you, how much could you really trust him?

Shalnark speaking your name brought you out of your thoughts, and he whispered to you “if you try to escape again after this, I'll cut off your legs.”

You couldn't see his expression, but his voice was serious, and you jumped when he pulled away once more.

That smile was back on his face, and he cheerfully said “just kidding.”

#yandere #yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #shalnark #yandere shalnark #shalnark x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert

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stillebesat · 3 years

Text

Code: Blanket

Sanders Sides: Janus, Virgil, (Logan & Remus mentioned) Fic Type: Hurt/Comfort Prompt: “If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.” with Anxceit? (platonic is 100% good for me) Blurb: A friendship doesn't stop just because one person decides to act like a dick. Especially when said dick is obviously in trouble. Overall Fic Warnings: Homophobia talk, Neglectful/Abusive Parents implication, Capitol Riot references. Taglist in Reblog

Janus Daemon @TheGatekeeper *12m To the ‘family’ that locked me in our unfinished attic these past 4 months to “knock the Antifa sh!t” out of me; Pretty sure this is worse than anything I’d have done. Don’t bother deleting the evidence of your ‘trip.’ It’s already been passed onto the proper Authorities. Cheers.

Virgil shot upright in bed, staring at the tweet and the handful of photos from the storming of the Capitol that Dee had attached along with it. “No way.” He breathed. No freaking way.

Janus. Janus Daemon, the goodie-two-shoes who always obeyed his parents and followed their lead...had actually turned them in as Capitol rioters?

He frowned, tapping on his phone to blow up the images so he could see the people within them better. Yah, no. Even if it had been ages since he’d seen Dee’s family...there was no denying that two of the dozen faces circled and labeled in the pictures were the same parental figures that he remembered sneering down at him before they forcefully dragged their son off the playground when he was six.

That had been right after...Virgil hunched his shoulders. After his Dad’s divorce from his Mom. Apparently hanging out with a child who only had a Dad in the picture was a big “NO” in their messed up book of rules.

Not that that had stopped them from becoming secret best friends in school...well until last year that is….when his Dad had married Remus.

That had...been rough...when word got out--well reached Dee’s parents and they’d stormed the school to find their son working on a project in the library with him, the ‘hooligan freak who dared to be okay with having two dads when it was unnatural to the natural order of things.’

He’d known, from Janus, that his parents were uptight...but that day had shown him how all Daemons were a Demonic Clan of Super Karens that had campaigned nearly as hard as the President to force both his Dad and Remus from their jobs in order to protect the community from their sort.

Unfortunately for the Daemons, they’d picked the wrong family to mess with. Not when his Dad, Logan Andrews, was considered to be the best lawyer in the state, if not the country. Not when his new husband, Remus Knight, had just finished performing a life saving surgery on the governor's daughter. No. The Daemons may be influential, but they were nothing compared to his parents when their Momma Bear instincts were roused.

Honestly...to discover that the entire group had drunk the kool-aid and actually stormed the Capitol to support the Orange Cheeto shouldn’t be so surprising.

Well...not everyone.

Virgil frowned, glancing back up to the first part of the tweet before he hit his contacts, scrolling through them to find Janus’s name only to hesitate over pressing the call button.

He hadn’t spoken to Dee in a year. Not since that fiasco. Not since his so called friend had taken his parent's side and cut off all contact, purposely burning the bridges of their friendship with sneers, glares...and well---

Virgil exhaled, closing his eyes.

Could a Demon change their stripes? Could Janus...could he---

Sure...it appeared he was finally rebelling against his parents...but he had no idea what Dee thought of him---Virgil gritted his teeth. It didn’t matter. “I made a promise.” He whispered, slowly opening his eyes.

Still. Maybe not a good idea to call. Janus had probably blocked his number anyways---

He swiped out of his contacts, switching to his barely used Facebook Messenger where he picked out Janus’s name from there, his fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Dee probably still wanted nothing to do with him.

He swiped a single word...once again hesitating over sending it.

They hadn’t talked in a year.

This could go so wrong.

And yet--

He hit send.

Virgil: Blanket?

He bit his lip, barely breathing as he stared at the little check mark symbol showing that Dee’s account had at least received the message.

Not that he really expected a response. It was Facebook after all. But Janus had just turned his family in. Did he have a place to stay? Had he been fed? Just how bad had it been for him to be locked in an unfinished attic over the summer by the people who supposedly loved him? Who had proclaimed they wanted to protect him. If---

His heart skipped a beat as the checkmark switched to Janus’s profile picture.

Dee had seen the message.

He stopped breathing as the three typing dots appeared.

Janus: Seriously?

“Ha.” Virgil relaxed, running shaking fingers through his hair. Not a totally unexpected response after everything. But far better than the hate filled rant he’d half expected to get. That had to be a good sign right? He had come up with that particular coded phrase as a way to judge his friend’s needs when Dee had pulled him into the hollow of an old oak tree on his way to the bus the day after his fateful encounter with the Super Karens on the playground with tears shining in his eyes.

Janus hadn’t wanted to return home that day because his parents had been so mad at him for playing with Virgil. He hadn’t understood why having only a Dad was bad--

He hadn’t been as understanding when Virgil ended up with two.

Virgil rolled off the bed, stuffing his feet into his shoes as he sent a one word answer back.

Virgil: Yes.

No typing dots appeared even though he could see that Dee had seen his response.

Unsurprising. Dee was probably wondering if this was some sort of trick, if there was a catch. Why would Virgil of all people contact him out of the blue after how he’d treated him?

He pulled his hoodie over his head, swiping his keys and face mask from his desk as he took a chance and pressed call, holding his phone up to his ear, listening to it ring as he left his room and moved downstairs.

A click sounded in his ear right before the voicemail could activate.

Janus had picked up, Virgil could hear the faint sound of sirens in the background, the shaky barely controlled breathing.

He wasn’t saying anything though.

That was fine. Not normal for Dee, who always liked to have the first and last word but Virgil could work with this.

“Offer still stands, Dee.” He said, keeping his voice low as he moved past Dad and Remus’s darkened bedroom, heading to the front door. “I’ve told you a million times that if you don’t know where to go you can always come here. You acting like the world’s biggest dick doesn’t change that.”

Janus may have thrown their friendship out of the figurative door...but Virgil--well he...hadn’t. Not really. He had been hoping Dee would come around--not like this...but if this could get his best friend back---

“You can’t mean that, Annie.” The voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Not after--”

“Dude.” Virgil tsked, scribbling a quick note to his parents because Dad would hear the car start up and be up like a shot once he realized Virgil was leaving after hours. “You just posted that you were locked up in your attic by your so-called parents.” He pulled open the front door, quickly slipping out before he jangled his car keys by the phone. “Unless you say Nest right now, I’m coming to get you and dragging you back. So. Blan--” He looked up and froze, staring at the shadowy figure hovering just outside the gate. ”-ket?”

Janus huffed in his ear, the figure at the gate shifting to grab onto one arm, rubbing it as they shuffled back a step.

Dee did that whenever he was nervous. Whenever he was afraid he was making the wrong choice.

He hadn’t spoken to Virgil in a year.

Yet he was already here.

Virgil was off the porch and jumping over the gate in a flash, grabbing onto Janus before his friend could change his mind and bolt. “Dee.”

Janus flinched, slowly lowering the phone, a crumpled face mask hanging from one ear, ragged hair half covering a deep purple bruise and three long scratches by his left eye as he ducked his head. “If...I said...Fort?’ He whispered, shoulders hunching as if expecting a physical blow.

Blanket Fort. A need for Protection. For Safety.

Virgil growled, tugging his friend into his arms, holding him tight, heart throbbing as Dee practically melted into him like a shaking leaf, breath hitching as his fingers dug into Virgil’s hoodie.

How long had it been since anyone had treated Dee with any compassion? Four months locked up in an attic. His family halfway across the country committing treason. Had they even left him any food when they left? Probably not from how bony Dee felt now in his arms.

“Janus.” Virgil said softly, holding him tighter as his friend shuddered in his arms, running careful fingers through his greasy hair. “I told you. You can always stay here.”

Part 2

#Code: Blanket #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Virgil #Janus #Anxiety #Deceit #Logan mention #Remus mention #homophobia talk #neglectful/abusive parents #injury mention #Capitol Riot references #political references

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ramp-it-up · 3 years

Text

Definitely Not

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x Reader

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18 + Cursing, Angst, Jealousy, Smut, Graphic Depictions of Sex, Semi-public sex, oral sex (f receiving), established relationship.

Word Count: About 3K

Summary: Daveed tries to set you straight on set. Let’s see if it works.

A/N: This fic is an ask from a Nonnie who is Definitely Not Miranda in response to the pictures enclosed. So @einfachniemand, I’m not going to say: Here, my dear.

Very little editing, all errors my own. (The dress pic is not intended to convey skin tone or body type, just the dress).

It was the night of the SAG awards, which happened to fall right on the last night of your first three-week visit to set to see Daveed. You hated the distance and he knew that, so he arranged for you to see each other whenever possible.

You’d spent the first 10 days in quarantine with him, and that was fun, but these last 10 had been mostly sitting back and watching him work. Normally, you wouldn’t have minded it, but his work on this show had him in several sex scenes where he was intimate with another actress.

She was perfectly sweet, and nice, and very much in a relationship, but every time you watched a scene with them together, you got this twisting turning sensation in your belly.

Could it be jealousy, or something else?

You’d taken to avoiding set on those days, insisting you had work to do, and you stayed in the condo that production provided Daveed.

It didn’t help that you had gone from non-stop sex every day for 10 days, to long says of filming and occasional sex this last half of the trip.

But there was no need to worry. It was normal. D was exhausted and he was working. And your relationship was not just physical.

Was it?

All of this had your neurotic, anxiety riddled mind working. You began to think that maybe this was the test of your relationship. That maybe you and Daveed weren’t right for each other. That maybe this wasn’t even love.

Daveed knew you like the back of his hand. He knew what you were thinking, he could tell by your avoidance of his sex scenes and by the way you were in your head lately.

But tonight was special. When Daveed told you to bring a fancy dress, you thought it was for sexy time purposes, especially when he specified the short strapless belted Versace gold disco dress dress that you’d tried on when he was fitted for this suit, and that he’d surprised you with on Valentine’s Day.

It was almost destroyed that night, but it was flung across the room before Daveed had a chance to ruin it.

The fact that he was going to present at the SAG awards on the Night Car set not to mention that he was also nominated was a cause for celebration.

It had been a while since you two were able to go out on the town and you were a little nervous as you got ready alone in the condy while Daveed finished filming before the awards.

Your phone dinged with an instagram notification. Daveed’s co-star had posted them together, dressed for the awards. Her black dress complimented his suit nicely and they looked like a lovely couple.

Instead of throwing your phone across the room, you closed instagram and deleted it. You weren’t going to stress, and you weren’t going to let this harsh your mood.

At least that’s what you told yourself in the mirror before you left the condo.

But on the way to the set in the studio car, you were tripping.

Hard.

Were you a massive fool?

You had to pull yourself together. By the time you arrived, you looked the part of the excited and dutiful partner. Acting at it’s finest.

-------

Daveed was laughing with her when you got to set. He looked so delectable, that you just stood and stared at him from the side of the soundstage, feeling your throat gone dry and all the moisture traveling between your legs.

That beard. Damn, it had been a few days since you felt it between your legs.

The suit was even more magnificent with the fuller beard and the confidence of a man who was doing well and in his element.

The colors and patterns of the Versace jacket complimented the warm brown of his skin and the sequined effect of his balck shirt matched the mirror ball gold and silver dress you wore.

You knew that the shirt clung to every sculpted muscle under that jacket, that’s why you’d dropped to your knees so readily that night after the fitting.

Even though you knew it was just work, the fact that she had her hands on what was yours made you heated. You almost couldn’t contain yourself.

Your eyes went to his hand, where he clutched a whiskey glass with two fingers of amber liquid. You wondered if it was real, or a prop. You didn’t care, you just wished you were that glass, despite the emotions and hormones that swirled inside you.

When your eyes went back to his face, he was looking at you, jaw clenching. The one tell that you affected him. He appraised you from toe to head for a few seconds, then he went back to his conversation.

A new vexation filled you at his intentional indifference to you. Standing upright, you readied for battle.

-----

Damn, thought Daveed when he first saw you. He wanted to know who you were but then he remembered that you were his.

The thought made his cock stir and grow even more as he took in your whilte sandals and your legs that went allll the way up to the hem of your dress that was just a bit shorter than he’d like it to be in public. They continued up your gold and silver ensconced curves to the bustier of the strapless dress that you were not-quite-indecently almost falling out of.

Damn, he needed to bury his face in your tits as he fingered you into submission.

He gaze journeyed up your collarbone (he noticed that the marks he’d put there last week had faded) up your neck (those were gone too) to your adorable chin and big eyes.

The way that you looked at him, like a bunny trapped in a snare, made him want to take you down right there.

But he had to wait.

Daveed kept calm by ignoring you. He couldn’t lose his cool right here and if he went to greet you, he would drag you to the bathroom and stuff his cock in one of your holes. And he still had a job to do.

Not only was Daveed presenting, he was nominated. But already felt like a winner because the real prize was you.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you raise your chin in that way you had when you were angry, ready to cuss him out or fight. Or both.

He didn’t have to look to know that your eyes were flashing and that your fingers were probably trembling with emotion right now.

Daveed took a sip of his liquor as he continued his conversation and smiled. She thought he was smiling at her, but in reality, he was smiling at you. He had something for you.

He noted that you walked over and sat down on the chair with his name emblazoned upon it. As you crossed your legs to show off what you were working with, he knew exactly what you were doing.

Staking your claim.

What you didn’t realize was that he was always and forever yours.

It began with what he thought was a burning hatred for you but was really an all consuming passion.

And it started when he first laid eyes on you.

The tension was zapping across the room between you two, and the reckoning to come was inevitable the entire night.

----

“We’ll catch up with you later, we’re going to hop on a call home. Want to talk to the fam.”

Everyone bought the story and moved to the other soundstage, where a watch party was set up. Soon, you and D were alone on set.

“I hate you. Daniele.”

Daveed smiled that electric smile of his, looked down and shook his head. You used his middle name to piss him off. He wasn’t going to take the bait.

“You don’t mean that.” He moved to within one foot of you, but he didn’t touch you.

“Fuck. You.”

“Why do you hate me now?” He had a good idea, but he wanted to hear you say it.

“Because you’re fucking with her. Or making her believe it can happen. I saw how she looks at you. And you at her.” He moved even closer.

You wanted to move away from him, but you didn’t dare concede any ground to him.

He grabbed your hand and pulled it toward him.

“Do you feel this?” Your hand was now grasping his rock hard erection. “This isn’t for her, it’s all for you.”

You laughed in his face, challenging him with your eyes.

Daveed knew exactly what the real problem was.

He kissed down your neck and slid his hands down your torso to your waist, grasped it, and then hoisted you up on the bar, forcing himself between your legs.

His hands went to your knees and traveled up your moisturized thighs to the apex, finding nothing but the carefully manicured triangle there.

He looked at it for what seemed a long time and licked his lips. When he looked up, his eyes made you clench your thighs together.

“Can I?”

Fuck, you thought. You couldn’t deny it. This is what you wanted. You nodded quickly and licked your parched lips.

Daveed loved the feel, the taste, and the smell of you. He ran the pads of his thumb there, teasing the very tip of your clit, playing you almost like an instrument.

“This dress with no panties. Why did you choose violence Baby Girl?”

He twisted his wrist and was now three fingers and two knuckles deep inside you. The sloshing sound of your wetness was music to his ears.

“Damn, Daveed…” your breathless whisper and physical reaction told him everything he needed to know.

He slammed his fingers inside you and rubbed his palm against your cunt. He curled his fingers to hear you moan again, and then buried his head in between your tits to lick up your ribcage.

Your moan made him leak, and he pulled himself away from the delectable valley of your breasts to slide his hands down your body as he sank to his knees before you.

You leaned back on the bar and watched as he got down on his knees for you.

“Do you still think that there is anyone else above you?”

He grasped your foot, took off your sandal and kissed your instep, trailing his lips up your ankle to your calf.

He kept eye contact as you leaned back on your hands and watched as he licked a fat wet stripe up your thigh to the hem of your dress, and then paused to look at you.

Your anger was gone and now you were begging.

“Please…”

The reach of his long fingers nearing your pussy had you weak. He slowly rolled the hem up your dress up as he got closer and closer to the promised land. You dropped your head back and looked at the ceiling.

“Watch me, Baby Girl.”

His sweet tone made you snap your head back up, knowing that if you didn’t obey, he would make you pay. That was the only intelligent thought you had, as your mind was blank to anything else but what Daveed was doing to you.

He smiled down at your glistening pussy, and in one swift move, his mouth is on you and he lovingly licked your clit. He alternated between this and placing stripes with his tongue between your folds, causing you squirm in his clutches on the bartop.

“Hmmmmm. So delicious.” He looked up at you and grins mischievously.

You shuddered, biting your lip to keep from screaming. He held you fast in his grip as you started convulsing and almost hyperventilating at the pleasure he gave you as his rough tongue swiped over your clit again and again.

“Da-Da-Daveed.”

Daveed looked up, wiped his mouth on his sleeve and smiled that gorgeous smile at you.

“What did you call me?” His eye contact was unwavering, not allowing you to escape.

Your eyes got wide and you shut your mouth fast. Daveed just chuckled, in the mood to be soft.

“Nevermind. We’ll save that for another day.”

He kissed you, allowing you to sample yourself on his tongue. You incoherently grabbed for his belt, unbuckling the impediment to what was so important to you at this moment.

Daveed pulled away and undid his belt, unbuttons his pants and they drop to the floor.

You reached for and only got to hold and squeeze the large, heavy cock in your hand briefly before he pulled away again, lifting you off the bar and turning you around to lean against it.

He answered your whine with a shushing sound.

“Shhhh. As much as I love to see you wrap that mouth around my dick. I need inside you. Now.”

Daveed could hardly stand it. He’d wanted you for hours, since you walked into the room, days, since he last had energy to have you. He was finally going to have his heart’s desire.

He lifted your ass cheek and lined up at your dripping lips. He couldn’t look away as he watched you take all of him, the hiss that escapes his lips causing you to clench around him.

“Fuck. Such a good girl, taking me like this.”

Your mind was like a whirlwind as he thrusted inside you slowly, building up to a constant, merciless rhythm. His pelvis crashed into yours over and over, hands on your hips, surely leaving bruises at his ruthless grip.

“Gotdamn Daveed, no one else has ever made me feel this way,” you whispered, your voice not much more than the breaths you were trying to catch.

This information made Daveed pause and fall out of rhythm, and you heard his breath catch in his throat. His hips faltered after he heard what you had to say.

“Shit!”

The exclamation betrayed his emotion and you remembered how much he loved your words of praise.

The fact that he’d wanted you for so long and couldn’t have you and now you are really his blew his mind. Hearing that he could make you feel like none other made him weak.

“Tell me more.”

He sped up again, growing hot at the image of himself sinking deep inside you.

“No one else can make me feel as good as you do.”

“Fuck!” He moved feverishly, his release imminent.

“It’s not just that your dick is big and hits that spot that no one else has ever found...”

“Shit!”

Daveed reached around to your clit and worked it furiously with his fingers again, because he was going to come any second and he needed you to meet him there.

“It’s that you know m-m-mmmmmm.” You could hardly speak it’s so good.

“You know my bodyyyy… my body so fucking well Daveed.”

He grabbed your hand with his right one and brought it behind your back as his left worked, pinning your torso to the bar. You went up on your toes in your heels, calves tightening along with the rest of your body.

You arched your spine as your explosion started to arrive. Daveed thrust once more, deep inside you, making contact with that special spot and it was game over for both of you.

You cum, hard, and prayed that you don’t mess up his suit. Or your dress.

Daveed leaned on your back, panting, and you released your hand from between you and grabbed his curls, bending back to kiss him, as he softened inside you. He moaned in his throat, a sign that he was still sensitive.

He looked you in your eyes.

“I love you.”

You smile at him. “I love you too.”

He pecked your lips again and groaned as he slipped out of you, and moved to pull up his pants as you straightened your dress.

He went to the bathroom at stage right and is back out within five minutes, having washed his hands and fixed his hair.

He took you in his arms and gave you his serious look. Your stomach turned flips, as if you were in trouble. The thing is, you knew you weren’t. It was just the opposite.

“Let me go over this one more time…” you moved to speak and his look darkened. You shut your mouth quickly.

“Work. Is work. That’s all. I’m a professional. Just like you.”

He stared you down.

“You know a sex scene ain’t sexy. Plus I have that wig and make up on, there are hot lights, makeup. The closest thing to a turn off there is.”

“Stop being jealous just because I like my co-workers. You should be glad I like her, because remember the last co-star that I couldn’t stand?”

He looked at you with a glint in his eye.

You were mad.

“Yeah, you ended up boning her brains out because of the sexual tension.”

“Exactly. And I turned her out. She stalked me all the way up here to Vancouver.”

You were heated.

“Fuck you, Daveed! You sent me a ticket and ordered me to come, don’t try…”

Daveed silenced you with a kiss.

“Can you not be crazy for 10 minutes?”

You caught your breath as you glared at him. You stared each other down, the tension building again.

You pulled away from him.

“10 minutes is all you get. Because that was DEFINITELY NOT the right thing to say to me!!”

You turned on your heel and walked out of the soundstage ahead of him.

Daveed straightened his suit and smiled as he followed you out.

It was going to be a long night.

And he was looking forward to it.

--------

Let me know if you like it by liking, commenting, and reblogging!

Tags: @braidedchallah @einfachniemand @sillyteecup @ohsoverykeri @theselilwonders @theatrenerd86 @sebastianabucknettastan @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @lonelydance @biafbunny @summerofsnowflakes @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @janthonystan @elocinnicole @anh1020

#Daveed Diggs #daveed diggs fanfiction #daveed diggs x reader #daveed diggs smut #daveed diggs imagine #daveed diggs angst #definitely not Miranda #daveed diggs x you

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n7punk · 2 years

Text

NaNoWriMo rundown 2021

I officially finished the first draft of my novel this morning, so I thought I’d do a little rundown!

Now, keep in mind this is only a first draft. NaNoWriMo usually involves little to no editing or refining. I kept notes as I went of some things I wanted to fix, though I did edit a little as I went this year (AKA if I wasn’t feeling a scene, I deleted it and started over, losing it from my word count, which isn’t how I think most people do NaNoWriMo). It isn’t how I have done NaNoWriMo previously, but I also have only finished NaNo with a novel that I ever wanted to share with anybody or even touch again once, and in hindsight that novel was terrible.

My plan this year is to step back from my novel for like a month, writing a long fanfiction instead, and then take another break from fic to do my second draft/revision. I’m planning to continue alternating between (roughly) a month spent on fanfiction and then a month spent on an original project for next year. I will revise this novel until I’m happy with it and then switch to working on a new one (I have several ideas saved up) and do the same revision/switching between original stuff and fanfiction process with it as well.

Okay, as far as my NaNo experience went, I started off in kind of a rough place. For the first two days of November I was still working on my last fanfiction from October, WDtFD. October was also my most productive word count month this year (because I was really motivated with my projects and wanted to get them both done before November) and it meant that I started NaNoWriMo kind of burnt out. I spent the first several days behind and making minimal progress. Eventually I realized that I hated the opening I’d written, even if I liked the concept, so it was extremely difficult to write anything following it.

I bit the bullet and rewrote it even though deleting words when I was already behind was the last thing I wanted to do. This ended up being a great decision, because I was able to start getting into my novel finally. On the first weekend of NaNo, the GWIC was held and my word count skyrocketed (the first giant 7k spike on my graph below). My word count still stayed very variable throughout the month (and, as usual, any productive day had to be followed by a valley as my chronic pain flared), but I stayed above the goal line for the rest of the month after that.

Daily word count graph (and NaNo calling me out):

And my total graph:

(You can clearly see where the GWIC was with that big bump early on. I only heard about it halfway through the third day, so I was only there for the last day & a half)

As far as my draft goes, I’m pretty happy with it! I don’t love it like I do some of my other works, but I think it’s a fun little romantic romp. It is character-driven, not plot/conflict-focused, so I think it’s kind of a nice fluff piece revolving around the queer experience (or, one of them, there is no singular experience). It definitely needs revision, but I want to step back from it so I can edit it with fresh eyes, and I want to write something more dramatic now, so I’m going to switch to a different project for a bit. I tend to have this pattern of working on a “simpler” project (something set in the modern world without a dark/dramatic plot) and a “complicated” one (one set in its own universe or with a big complex plot), so now I’m on the complicated swing after this simple project.

I was actually supposed to do a different novel entirely for NaNo. I switched at the last second because my last project was one of those “complicated” ones with many plot threads and I just wanted to do something light. The novel I ended up doing I was also excited for, but it didn’t have the worldbuilding/planning that the first one did, so I ended up flying by the seat of my pants for the entire month, which I think shows in the draft. I’m going to work on introducing more structure when I revise it, but I’m honestly glad I switched because it gives me more time to worldbuild the novel that I was planning on. It needs a lot of depth and I’m excited for when I do write it. In fact, I’ve kind of been bit by the bug for it again and might spend the rest of November working on it before I focus on fanfiction again. We’ll see. I miss my girls too and want to write them again as well.

Anyway, that has pretty much been my NaNo! As always, I adore NaNoWriMo and this was actually my fifth full novel that I’ve written over the course of one. I’ve skipped some years or written fanfiction instead, but I participated in my first NaNoWriMo in 2012. I’ve won every year I’ve tried to write a story for it, although one year I tried to write a DND campaign and quit like a week in when I realized I wasn’t interested in it and my outline for a campaign was very bare-bones and wasn’t going to ever match a NaNo word count. I then stopped doing NaNo for a few years, only resuming last year, but I’m glad that I’m back to it because the community around it really feels amazing.

#mylife #also scrivener 3 winners discount babyyyyyy

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oh-for-fic-sake · 3 years

Note

What will daddy Henry do if his little is sad because someone took something valuable from her?

So i wanst sure what to base this on entirely, so I'm going to go with something I went through over the last few weeks. I had a little bit of anon hate, which I deleted but the words stuck with me making me second guess everything i was working on and the confidence i had in my writing was taken away. so this is like a shameful self indulgent fantasy that im going to read to myself when ever im down.

Warnings: Pretty Personal For Me, Angsty, Fluffy, Self Doubt, Happy Ending, DDLG, Long!!

Tagging: @viking-raider @isitmine @tinabean37 @loserrlauraa @msblkfire84 @henrythickcavill @plainbrunettelbl @dummiesshort @cynic-spirit @pandaxnienke @two-unbeatable-beaters @libbymouse @wolfieash @eldarwen333 @princesssterek @mom2000aggie @blackestpinkworld

(not sure who to tag in headcannons? these are the ones on my everything taglist)

Henry watched quietly with a frown as you sat down in the living room, eyes cast down at the tablet in front of you shoulders slumped.

"poppet what's wrong love?"

"n-nothing da-addy" you said with a small stutter

Henry shifted on his feet looking at you critically before coming over to you.

"nothing? So your sitting here almost in tears over nothing" he stated sceptically rounding the sofa sitting next to you.

"I'm not cryin" you sniffled trying to bite your lower lip to stop it from wobbling.

"not yet, but close enough poppet, hand it over" he said holding out his hand waiting for the tablet.

You whined not wanting to hand it to him at first but after a mini battle of wills you placed the colourful tablet in his hand.

Your head was cast down and you rubbed your eyes trying to catch the tears before they were noticeable.

"okay then, so this is your new story?" he asked scrolling through the page not reading it all but scanning the words, it was well written like always.

At the beginning of the pandemic he suggested you started a blog, and you had. A writing blog all full of fanfictions of... Him.

He didn't mind he actually love you doing something constructive, it kept you happy and busy which helped him because there wasn't many free days even in lockdown. He was working out, reading scripts or rearranging covid tests and travel.

Plus knew these smut blogs existed, even lurked on a few.

"y-yeah" you mumbled leaning on him hugging his arm scanning the page as he scrolled, you knew he wasn't reading everything maybe every few lines

"sooo what's the problem?" he said not finding an issue with the writing.

"i... I cant post it" you muttered looking down avoiding his gaze

"why?" he asked frowning not liking the defeated tone you had.

"j-just because..."

"ah I see, you have lost your confidence" he said quickly figuring out the problem, the downside to writing was everything was personal preference so tiny comments could knock your confidence.

In a way it was like his work, you put your heart and soul into it and then people don't like it? It was always a bummer. But he was used to it, you were not.

You nodded to him it was true you'd lost your confidence, you hadn't wrote for a while.

You couldn't seem to find the words to fit together anymore.

You felt silly, they were just a few mean comments, words from a nasty troll who didn't have anything better to do but it hurt, you poured your heart into every chapter and then for people to rip it to shreds? It stung.

"y-yes I... They didn't like it" you hummed fiddling with your fingers, drawing deep breaths trying not to cry

"and so what?" he said shrugging making you snap your gaze to him.

"wha?"

"it doesn't matter love, so a few people didn't like it, lots of people do, I love your stories"

"you have to your my daddy"

Henry huffed and shook his head at you ruffling your hair pressing a kiss to your head amused that you thought that's the only reason he liked your writing.

"don't stop writing just because of a few mean people nugget, it takes a lot of skill to write and a lot of bravery to share it. Your a brave talented little baby and I'm very proud of you"

He said cooing as that seemed to be the final push sending you over the edge making you burst out into tears.

He hugged you moving the tablet out of the way before pulling you to his lap, unbuttoning his shirt half way and squished you into his bare chest knowing you needed to feel him, not a shirt.

"shh its okay babygirl, your stories are wonderful, and you have fun writing them don't you baby?"

You nodded crying harder trying to get the words out but you just couldn't instead whining incoherently into him.

"and you enjoy making the little banners? And collect all your photos and gifs?"

"y-yeah but they di-dn't like it last time!"

"they don't have to like everything you do sweety"

"but I don't wana upset them!"

"did you do the warnings?" he asked knowing all about the do's and don'ts of posting your erotica.

You nodded whining you always did warnings on stuff to be safe.

"and make the little cut thingy you were telling me about?" again you nodded at him

"so your telling me they read the warnings, clicked to see it and then were mean?" you sniffled biting your lip trying to calm down but nodded to him humming quietly.

"well then it sounds to me like they were going out of their way, looking for someone to pick on" he said slowly rocking you slightly.

You fell quiet resting your head on his chest as he rubbed your back and patted your bottom soothing you.

"but what if they wasn't? What if my stories are bad- and encourage bad stuff!" you cried tucking yourself into him tighter.

"no-no you repeat after me, fiction is fiction" he said pulling you back wiping your tears waiting for you to say it out loud.

"fic-tion is f-fiction" you repeated

"I did everything I could to warn people"

"I-I did everyth-ing I could to w-warn people" he smiled at you as you drew a huge breath calming yourself down.

"and they are jealous because I'm an adorable, smart, funny kind and caring babygirl who has the cutest little peach butt in the world~" he said smirking at you from above holding you tightly to him pressing a kiss to your head.

"and they- daddy! Noo! I can't say that~" you gasped flushing as you realised what he had said

"oh yes you can because its the truth now come here let daddy bite that peach~" he growled playfully snapping his jaws at you.

"ah-no!" you screeched giggleing as he began tickling you all over wrestling you playfully trying to lean over and bite your but through your shorts.

He landed two solid bite's on your bottom before pulling back. Even though he had cheered you up he could see you were still doubting yourself.

Henry cast a glance to the tablet and smirked forming a plan that might just get you back on track. He was not going to let anyone steal your sparkle.

"come on you you've spent enough time writing go play in the garden with Kal"

Once you left henry got to work swiping up the tablet and going on your one drive seeing the meticulously organized notebooks, recognising a few by name.

A few weeks later Henry came in to the living room with a medium size box and plopped it on the sofa next to you.

"here we go nugget!" he said placing the gift next to you, they couldn't have come quickly enough, he had noticed you hadn't been writing at all, which upset him because he knew how much you loved it.

"what's that daddy?" you asked peering over the box not expecting any gifts.

"why don't you open it and find out?" he said sitting the other side of the box handing you a pair of scissors to slice the tape.

You moved slowly cutting it open and pulled the box open then froze.

"d-daddy? What thats my..." you trailed off pulling out the hard back books your banner on the front cover.

"your stories? Yes poppet, I realised that you were putting so much work into these things but could loose them, they are soo good that daddy wanted to read them over and over and now we can!" he said pleased with himself as you sat there shocked looking at the small collection of a5 books.

"but their- i dont..." you said happy but completely shocked, flicking through the pages, there were even a few comments in the margins from henry pointing out the pits he liked making your heart swell with pride.

Henry moved to stand behind you pressing a kiss to your hair.

"They are brilliant! So good I'm so proud of every thing you have achieved and I want them on our book shelf, in the living room" he said making you tear up.

"Really? You... You think their that good?" you whined eyes blurring with tears as you hugged the first book to your chest.

"absolutely poppet now go on, you do the honours~" he said pressing your shoulder urging you to go to the cube bookshelf.

You tiptoed over to it and slowly pulled out each little custom book with your banner on the front.

You sat down placing each one delicately on the shelf the five books each lining up with one another half filling the empty cube shelf.

"oh no baby look? The shelf isn't full is it? You know what that means" he said standing looking

"I-I've gotta write?" you asked sniffling weeping softly but this time because you were happy.

"exactly! You need to fill the whole shelf, so you keep up the good work and tell daddy when you finish your next story and we can keep adding to it!" he said cheerfully walking over handing you the tablet.

You smiled to yourself and looked to the books, your books- actual real life books on a shelf!

You grinned throwing yourself at him latching onto him feeling your confidence come back just from seeing how much you had done.

Suddenly the hate didn't matter, your daddy like them enough to make them into real life books! And even annotated them himself?

And if your writing was good enough for your daddy then it was good enough for you.

"daddy, can I have my screen time now, I want to write!!" you said jumping up and down on the spot excited to start your next chapter.

Henry grinned nodding deciding you can have as much screen time today as you wanted as long as it meant you wasn't giving up your new hobby.

#oh-for-fic-sake ask #oh for fic sake ask #oh for fic sake headcannon #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #henry cavill x little!reader

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dracosathenaeum · 3 years

Text

OBLIVIATE | D.M. ABANDONED FIC OUTLINE

Hello~

I’ve had this fic for @fuckingdraco ‘s writing challenge outlined for almost a year now. Half of it is a skeleton; i have some scenes which are fully written out and others which are just first drafts and idea dumps. this is quite literally copied and pasted so good luck if you read it.

I never had the heart to completely delete it but never liked it enough to write it; so here is my 2.2k draft fo what would’ve been a series.

If anyone decides to read it, be warned, it’s a mess. i just didnt want it to die in my notes so it’s having a life here, in my new section of my masterlist ‘fics that never saw the light of day’.

warnings: memory loss, fight scenes, gore, fighting

Being in a secret relationships had its ups and downs

You had to sneak around

But that just made the moments you were together so much more meaningful

You couldn’t brag about him to your friends

But the both of you were quite private people anyways, explaining your absences as studying in odd places

No one ever found out

It was just you and draco

The summer of 5th year was hard as he spent all of it in the south of France with his family

But it made coming back in 6th year so much more exciting

your fingers ached to touch him as you walked past his carriage

It was moments like this that you wish you could openly love him

But when your friends started gossiping about how Harry Potter thought he’d become a death eater, you were suddenly glad you weren’t linked to him publicly

That thought itself set a heavy weight of guilt on you

He came back in 6th year and he had changed

His kisses lost their spark

His eyes lost their light

He’d fuck you rough and hard, almost as if forgetting himself. Before making it up to you in the next instance

Slow love making that made you feel like you had just slept with an entirely different person

You followed him

You supposed you shouldn’t have

But he was skipping meals and you couldn’t exactly talk to his friends when they didn’t know you

You couldn’t confide in your friends as they wouldn’t understand

So you had no other choice

You followed him throughout the nights, and every time you would find him slipping into the room of requirement when he should’ve been slipping into bed with you

Once you had gauged what time he usually went and on what days you yourself went, 10 minutes before he was due

You watch as he fiddles around some ancient looking cupboard and you wonder why you’re jealous of a dead tree taking up dracos time

You watch as he sends things through, until finally it works for him

But its not happiness on his face nor relief

It looks like dread

He doesn’t look like he’s accomplished something, no there was no way

You watch as he takes off his tie, throwing it in the pile of robes and jumper

You watch as he rolled up the sleeves to his arms, the arms that had held you up more times than you could count

And you watch as the dark snaking lines of the dark mark are exposed on your lovers skin

His eyes whip round to see yours, instantly widening in fear

It isn’t until you try to walk towards him and he throws his hands up to stop you do you realise the shattered glass littered around you

He flicks his wand and you walk over, standing in front of him trying to figure out why

“How did you hide it from me for so long.”

“Simple charms, I was hoping you wouldn’t have to find out.”

More dialogue where he explains

“I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice.”

Draco please

“I can’t, I had to take this on my skin because my father fucked up”

“If I, if I stop now, I cant save my mother”

“Draco please, we can find a way around this”

You kiss him

And it feels like you’ve both gone back to before 6th year

When times were simpler

When he loved you and you loved him and that was it

No other interruptions

“Oblivate”

PART 1

“Y/n?”

“I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“Draco Malfoy, we share some classes but we haven’t spoken before.”

“Oh, im sorry, of course. I’m really tired I dont usually forget peoples names I swear. I must’ve been so tired I wandered in, I apologise.”

“It’s okay, the doors over there.” You take that as his polite cue of asking you to leave

He offers a tight smile, one you remember from first year, one you remember seeing across the hall as he’s shut down by Harry Potter

Poor guy must be going through something

“Y/n”

you turn, you dont even hesitate. You dont know what it is but you feel as if you’ve known him all your life

You change and you see a gold ring dangling from a dainty gold chain. You ask your friends if they’ve seen it before

im forgetting so much these days

But you keep it on, it brings you an odd sense of comfort

You keep it tucked beneath your blouse, bringing it to you lips on occasion when youre anxious.

He had forgotten about his ring, the very ring you had clasped between your thumb and finger as you worked on your essay. How was he possibly supposed to get it from you

he’s well aware he’s staring but his mind is whirling

He needs that ring

“Draco, isn’t that your ring?”

He should’ve obligated himself, that might’ve been easier

“I��m sure it just looks similar.”

“Draco, we both know that’s the Malfoy famlily crest, I wondered why you stopped wearing it.”

“Wait did she steal it?”

misplaced it

She picked it up

He had to awkwardly walk over to pick it up

“That’s my ring.” You had told him all about how your friends hated him and how you had feigned indifference the entire time

He had to act the part

Youre flustered, eyes flicking between the ring and him, fingers clasping it tighter as if not wanting to let it go

He notices and his heart clenches at the sight

Remembering the night he gave it to you

*flash back*

“I’m so sorry, I must’ve picked it up by accident here.”

“Wait, how do you even know it’s his, prove it Malfoy.”

“My vaults could buy Hogwarts, why would I be stealing gold from a nobody?”

Your cheeks flare up and your friends glare at him but see his side

You struggle to unclasp it, and of course you fucking do because his stupid fucking ass charmed it so only he could take it off

he watches as you struggle with it, turning to a friend to help before you have 6 girls pulling at the very expensive chain on your neck

“For fucks sake youre going to damage it, let me.”

Your breath hitches as his surprisingly warm fingers brush your hair out of the way, fingers working quick to unclasp the necklace, the weight of it leaving your neck and you feel surprisingly empty

“Thank you.”

You watch as he goes, your fingers scratching over your neck, feeling something bubble in your throat

This was pathetic, you were so sad over something that was never yours in the first place

You spend the remainder of the time trying to figure out how you cam to be in possession of it in the first place

your name is written in beautiful cursive on a letter that you cannot help but love

You turn it over to see a beautiful wax seal on it, fingers trembling as you break it

The chain is yours.

d.m.

You tilt the envelope over into your hand to feel the familiar weight of the chain in your hand, clasping it around you neck in an instant

You look in the mirror but you dont recognise yourself

Your friends are surprised when you study with them

When you go back to your dorm room at a reasonable time

And you dont have a clue where it is they think you go

But how could you possibly explain to someone what you font remember

The chain is too light around you neck, its just not the same, it feels as if it’s chocking you rather than bringing you comfort

You start digging through your trunk and draws, looking for something to act as a pendant before you finally do.

Hidden at the back of one of your draws you find a little velvet box you dont remember stashing away. But then again, you dont seem to be remembering much these days.

Its a tiny little constellation of stars, charmed to sparkle and you heart wonders why you had never worn it before. It was a simple little charm but once hooked onto the necklace, you look at yourself in the mirror and finally feel as though a little part of you has returned.

PART 2 THE CONSTELLATION IS DRACO

6th and 7th years are a blur

A blur of horror

You dont really understand how life had changed so abruptly

You dont know how you end up fighting in a war at the age of just 18 but here you are

Draco stands with Hogwarts

And then his mother calls

You’ve seen him

Of course you have

You know what he is, know what his parents are

But you also know what he has done to make Hogwarts more bearable for you under the Carrows watch

The small things, diverging attention away from you and your friends

He wasn’t evil and some part of you knew that

You watch as he takes a shuddering breath and starts to walk

You watch as no one stops him

You watch as he loses more of his soul with each step towards mr no-nose

You dont know why you do it

You run

Your friends call your names, teachers joining in

They think youre joining the other side, they think youre fucked in the head, as they had since that incident in 6th year

But no, you were just missing something

you catch up to him pretty quickly, pulling him to a stop

“Ah, another to join my cause. Welcome young lady.”

“You know me. Im missing something but whenever I’m with you, whenever im holding this stupid constellation close to my heart, I feel at ease. Why”

he stares at you incredulously, and why wouldn’t he. Youre in the middle of a battlefield, Harry Potter has just been declared dead and Voldemort is less than a meter away

But you dont feel scared

And you feel stupid for not feeling scared

“It has felt like I dont even know who I am for the past 2 years, what did you do to me?”

You know everyones watching, you can hear the gasps on both sides as they think the worst of him

“I did what was necessary.” That was the first time he had spoken more than 2 words to you since he had gotten his necklace back that day in the library

“Draco, this is no time to be flirting. Come join me, bring her with you if you want.”

He tenses as voldy rests a boney hand on his shoulder, pulling him towards the other side, away from you

“If you won’t be joining us, we will use you an example of what will happen if you dont join us.”

You stare at him unfazed, fear was something you had gotten used to

Your fingers grip your wand in hand, running through all the spell harry had taught you in the da but its not enough

You are no match for voldy as he throws an unforgivable at you

You hear screams around you but all you hear is silence, as if the world had finally gone silent

Draco watched as the spell hit you directly in the chest. He had spent 2 years living with his actions all for it to have gone to naught in a single second

He watched as the light from his wand hits you

Before rebounding off you as if it hit a shield

There’s a flash of black and his mother is infront of him, wand out from deflecting the spell from bouncing back and hitting him

“Mother?”

“She’s important to you?”

“She gave him one of the fucking family heirlooms, either she’s important to him or he’s an idiot”

His parents were… bickering in the middle of a battle

voldy recollects himself but before he can talk neville speaks up “I have no idea what’s going on but-”

Draco drowns out the noise as he stares at you on the floor, youre covered in dust and in blood but youre alive

He hears screams as harry rolls from hatreds arms, he hears the cries from death eaters but all can see is you

“We’re switching sides now?”

“I mean he’s fairly distracted, he won’t have time to hunt us down, we owe it to our son.”

Fight scene

You remember everything

Fred Weasley teases the both of you, “we have a war to win, you can fuck later.”

He copy his lazy grin, a grin that lights you up, a grin that reminds you what’s left to fight for

You see the spell before he does

Youre in an arms reach of him but Draco cant reach you in time

You push Fred to the floor, putting yourself in the line of fire by default and draco has to watch you get hit all over again

“We need to talk about what exactly it is ive been wearing around my neck this entire time.”

“I think only my mother can answer that.”

[if you made it this far, send me an ask with the word ‘chicken’ and i’ll send you a cursed photo xx]

#draco #draco malfoy #draco x reader #leaving this here to die #officially giving up on this fic #rip

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djarrex · 3 years

Text

Hi everyone, just wanted to address what happened last night along with some other things from before that all tie in together.

There’s multiple parts to the following post - please make sure you read all of it if you’re gonna take the time to even start.

It was midnight and y'all were still jumping in on anon and telling me how I'm awful for not commenting, owning up, or taking responsibility - I should have been in bed. I have a life and job outside this app; and with the several of you in my inbox and it being too late at night to address each, I’m gonna do it now. I can’t not say something about all of this. I just can’t keep quiet and ignore the problem - it’s not fair to you all. Deleting one post already has you guys even more riled up and all I wanted to do was offer something better than a “half-hearted apology” (it was very late at night when I wrote that very short apology, and wanted a redo tbh).

I really didn't want to make a long post like this. I reached out to a select few on here because I care about them (there's more of you, but like I said, it was at the time after midnight and I was fucking exhausted). but I was being demanded for accountability. So here I am.

Allow me to be real with you all, if that's ok. If it's not, well, idk. First I wanna address all you anons, who, instead of speaking to me one on one about all this, want to criticize me and shame me and my writing when truthfully it feels like you haven't even read more than a handful of my work. I didn’t realize that I write the clones all the same way? That I always make them super aggressive and uncaring and dom? “you write every single clone as so dominant instead as unique individual men with their own personalities” Interesting. See, that right there tells me you haven't read nearly enough of my stuff for me to believe that's true. That's one accusation I absolutely will not back you on because I know it’s inaccurate - saying how I group the clones into some overly-aggressive, and uncaring category - that I always write all of them as mean in bed because they're men of color. And hey, if I do write rough smut - which yeah, it's out there and I write it, as do a lot of you - there are warnings at the beginning, aftercare, dialogue, reader sharing their feelings, and most importantly... consent between the two. That’s what warnings are for, so that you know what you’re going to be reading. That’s why I, as we all do, appreciate warnings listed at the tops of fics; honestly, write them sub or dom or switch or however you want but don’t come at me like that. I’m sorry if I'm coming across as rude because I'm usually not, I’m one of the nicest people you’ll meet, but I will not stand idly by while you chastise my writing (writing that is pretty much the same type of stuff a lot of you write & rb with the same characters) that you haven’t read enough of to back such claims.

Next: Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart,

I get it. Really, I do. I fully understand the problem of whitewashing in SW along with almost everywhere else, and I do not agree with it. It's a huge problem, and it needs to be rectified. Now just because I don't speak publicly about it and opt out of publicly shaming TBB, doesn't mean that I agree with what’s going on. Not everyone is comfortable with sharing their opinions on a subject, no matter what that subject is or which side they're on. You live and you learn when it comes to that.

It has never been my intention to fetishize POC in my writing, which btw, the same people who are saying that it is my intention are the ones claiming I portray all of the clones as the same, aggressive men, lacking their individuality. It’s a claim that is simply not true, and I know I have followers on here to back me up on that. I know what I've written; how about you check it out and tell me that you don't see the words "soft" or "fluff" or "cuddling" or “gentle” or “tender” within my work linked in my ML. Clone character being a good partner and father? Tender love making? Holding each others faces in their hands? “We/you survived” sex? Taking care of their partner? Saying “I love you” to one another? Confirming the safe word and going slow at first? Oh my - riveting and harsh stuff - totally unacceptable.

Now: My admittedly problematic writings of Rex + Zygerria,

I went into writing that rp fic totally unaware and unknowing of the true implications. For that, I sincerely apologize. When I posted the NSFW alphabet, that’s when I was called out on that rp fic - not when I first posted it. Which the timeline doesn’t matter, I know that, but it concerns me a little bit that no one spoke up about it sooner - letting me dig myself deeper into a hole that I didn’t realize I was inside of in the first place. I've apologized once, and I know that doesn't negate what happened; I acknowledged my mistake back then, but I suppose that wasn’t good enough. I had asked you, anon, to message me to give me guidance, to teach me on what to do about the fic - you stayed hidden. Well, respectfully, what the fuck? I know we're all adults but don't lecture me and avoid me when I’d literally reached out for guidance on how to properly rectify the issue. I fixed my wording in some of my fics (the things I’ve caught upon rereading them) because I recognized and more importantly learned about and from my mistakes along with the unintentional negative implications of how I wrote those characters. Some of y'all wanna tell me that I "haven't learned"? Who are you, my personal blog police? My professor? My life coach? Are you even my friend? If I'm wrong and haven't learned, then fucking educate me. I worked hard on that rp fic, just like I do with a majority of what I write, but it doesn’t matter because I will delete it knowing that it’s harmful to others and I apologize for inadvertently romanticizing slavery with what I wrote - it was unintentional, and I’m truly sorry to those who have been hurt by it. I know it’s wrong, and there’s no proper excuse for it. Can’t go back in time, but consider it gone now.

Since that first wakeup call, I’ve been working hard to ensure I avoid using certain words and ideas when describing the clones in my fics. If there’s still something you see that isn’t correct or is inappropriate, please tell me! Don’t hold it in but then jump on the “attack M” bandwagon. Private message me, or come peacefully off or on anon, there will be no hard feelings. I don’t mind being corrected when I make a mistake - that’s just part of life, we all make mistakes and we live and learn from them. Making mistakes doesn’t = scumbag human. When you hold your breath and choose not to take the time to guide me, and if I appear to still be making the same mistakes, well, idk. I’m telling you right now that I do not mind if you message me with the good intention of pushing me in the right direction. When you come at me with hostility on anon, well, no thank you. To the anons that came without rage: thank you! I read what you wrote, and I have a better understanding as to how my writing had hurt the lovely followers of mine, and tried to address as much as possible in this post. See, angry mob anons? It costs zero credits to be kind and offer up your thoughts and advice with a good heart. I’m not going to hate you or block you if you try to correct me. I don’t block unless you’re a snoopin’ minor. Just don’t hold a knife to my throat.

Now: Why did I delete the tags and then my response to that anon ask?

Simply put: I felt awful. Deleting it doesn’t immediately mean I’m hiding from it and ignoring the issue. I wanted to come up with a better apology, explanation, whatever you wanna call it, because my followers deserve that. The ones who enjoy my work, the ones who interact, the ones who I call my friends, the ones who know that I’m a good person. Didn’t want to leave the tags/post floating around all night, giving more people time to sharpen their pitchforks and join the mob while I attempted to sleep. Trust me, I know saying that I had no ill intentions when tagging that post doesn’t make it better nor does it make it go away. I’m just trying to show you my point of view, that I knew immediately how I should not have tagged it that way, so that’s why I deleted them. I corrected my mistake. But y’all are too fucking quick I swear.

One more thing:

I know some of you who had called me out with the passive-aggressive inbox messages are still following me, and for what? You don’t like what I post, which is why one would follow another in the first place, so why bother sticking around? Do you feel like you need to police my blog? You want to be there the literal minute I make a mistake? I’m gonna turn off anon for a bit, so if you wanna discuss, message me. Just know that if you’re going to come at me with knives out, I probably won’t reply to you.

To conclude:

I’m sorry. Truly sorry for the entire Rex + Zygerria outfit + slaver ordeal with both the fic from a while ago and then the tags from last night. We can’t go back in time; the only option is to correct past mistakes that are able to be corrected, and then move on with new knowledge that’ll aid in me working even harder to ensure my writing isn’t inappropriate or offensive, and doesn’t hurt my followers nor the characters I write for. I’m still going to write self-indulgent filth and fluff, post-order 66 Rex, and other misc shit. I enjoy writing fanfic, as I know a lot of you enjoy reading what I write and love to talk to me about it. I hope that this didn’t come off as me being a bitch, because I’m really not. I enjoy interacting with the handful of people on here that I’d call my friends, and I love reading your reactions and tags to my fics when you’re excited and/or horny (LOL). It’s just after lunch time where I’m at, so I hope you have a great rest of the day/night/morning whatever for wherever you are.

#long post #m personal

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janiedean · 3 years

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I feel bad for all the nice J*nsa shippers who like their ship for whatever reasons (tropes, pretty art, aesthetic appeal, whatever) and know it's not canon but get associated with the misogynistic Dany hating crowd who act like Jon being attracted to Ygritte is J*nsa foreshadowing because red hair (I guess Jon should fuck Edmure Tully too? Omg give me Dark!Jon getting revenge on Catelyn by seducing her brother!) Tell me something. I'm new to the fandom but was J*nsa popular before the show? And I've heard something about the OG J*nsa shippers being alienated by the new shippers who insisted it had to be canon and acted like the series is called, "A song of J*nsa #danysux." I don't find that hard to believe because I know people who are now ashamed of calling themselves J*nsa shippers. Like, at this point, it's not only rival shippers who hate it. Even Gendrya/Braime/Jon stans/etc have started disliking that ship. You know your fandom is a problem when people who have nothing to do with Jnsa have a problem with it.

me: reads this ask

me: iwastheregandalf.gif which I can't find now but

okay anon buckle up because I am sadly well-equipped to answer this ask but before I do lemme tell you dark jon seducing edmure to take revenge on cat is LITERALLY THE BEST THING I'VE EVER HEARD but *clears throat* ALL RIGHT THEN.

disclaimer: as anon says I have no issue with like the shippers mentioned by anon in the beginning and ngl I agree, I have ABSOLUTELY ZERO FUCKING STAKES in the j*nsa vs j*nerys war and the only het jon ship I gaf about is jon/ygritte and we all know where that ended up I just... have been here since 2011/adwd was over and all the fic around was just for the books under secret lj communities and asoiaf qualified for yuletide and I have... seen... things.... and I actually have like uh had... beef... with some people in there and I know things bc ppl who hated those others told me stuff so anyway *sigh* buckle up anon I'mma tell you the story of jon shipwars through the years

in order, the old gods help me here, under the cut bc this is long as fuck

when I got into fandom also given what numbers were on ao3 one ship was popular and it was sansan. no like sansan was lit. the only asoiaf ship on ao3 with more than 200 fics. jb had twenty when i checked first. jc had like around 100-ish because of the show but sansan dwarfed anything. I posted the first jon/ygritte fic on the ao3 tag and the fourth throbb fic and like the others were all reposts from lj kinkmemes. nothing was popular before the show except for sansan when it comes to huge numbers bc grrm doesn't like fic and it was all hush hush until the show made it impossible to control and that ship was the one with a huge enough fanbase it actually had numbers, so like... j*nsa wasn't popular in the way nothing else was popular until it got screentime on the show

now, that stated, j*nsa had a... fair amount of fic for a rareship which was mostly book-based and from og shippers that were there from before the show and liked it for what it was but literally none of them thought it was gonna be canon, like it wasn't huge or anything but it had a small but dedicated fanbase who did their own thing and thought it was fun/liked the idea but that was it

that fandom had their own niche of hcs that they cultivated and shit except that like... at the end of S5/beginning of S6 there was a surge in shipping for... well obvious reasons bc it was obv sansa was getting to the wall and that would have been all nice and good but a) it was the time puritanical shipping was starting to take root and the 'shipping sansa with sandor or tyrion is hella problematic' rhetoric had started to circle coming from sans*ery shippers mostly but I'mma not open that fucking can of worms here, b) while the ending of S5 had more of a theon/sansa spike, the j*nsa stuff started getting big

now here we have to mention my villain origin story ie: j*nsa fandom had this one stan whose name I won't make because honestly it's been years and if she's still around I don't want her to remember I exist who was a bnf, wrote for... the website that created the whole larry/carol thing etc who was really fixed on this thing that j*nsa was actually canon and started writing extremely popular meta about it. now you're gonna ask how do you know, I know because this person once wrote a meta named 'why robb stark is a dick' and I told her that it was really fucking bad meta and she took it so badly she kept on trash talking me on her blog/her podcast (I was apparently the insane robb stark fangirl l m a o good lord) and like that was when some sane ppl who argued with her informed me in pvt that she was basically harping on the CANON thing when they'd have been okay with like... it being crackshipping and that she was basically cultivating a hoarde of followers who were harping on them/the ogs and basically ostracizing them;

I would like to add that this person - before her tumblr got 'accidentally deleted' and remade it therefore deleted most receipts for, er, her so-called meta which included stuff like ned and cat raised sansa as a sexual object and only wanted to sell her like cattle - had at some point started a round robin fic thing where... some of the characters mocked openly said stuff that some of the og fans had said specifically targeting them and people in that side basically went harassing anyone who didn't agree with that specific notion

now never mind that this person basically coined an entire term to describe ppl who liked white guys and excused all their wrongdoings out of my conversation re robb basically lying about everything I said as if I didn't have the receipts and tried to sell shirts with it and it didn't work and like then she got kicked out of her own website because she was telling her commenters disagreeing pretty shitty insults (considering I was called psychotic for disagreeing with her that time I don't doubt it) I think at some point she stepped back from fandom bc idk wtf she's up to these days and I don't want to, but basically at that point the dam was broken and there was a bunch of puritanical shippers harping on anyone who didn't agree with j*nsa is canon endgame stuff

this also includes an incident when those ppl were like... passing themselves as throbb shippers and ended up trying to tell t*hramsay shippers off the theon tag based on moral reasons and I ended up arguing with all of them (and they were all from that crowd) which in turn landed me in contact with other og j*nsa shippers who were like detached from that fandom bc those same people harassed them away as well ssooooo fun

anyway when S6 happened everyone was high on it and whatnot but I wasn't gonna begrudge them that I mean... you shipped it for years, canon is delivering you, good for you, but then j*nerys happened

god j*nerys happened

aaand basically...... I mean personally I was there like are y'all seriously arguing about the best incest jon ship out there but like basically the j*nsa endgame side was like AH JON IS PLAYING DANY SEE IF IT DOESN'T HAPPEN, the j*nerys obv got defensive af and both sides were sort of alternatively shitting on jon/ygritte anyway and depicting any other romantic rship jon could have as abusive™ and during S8 it just got worse and like I tried to stay out of it but basically from what I'm seeing now idk how the j*neryses are doing but on the j*nsa one it's ah jon's gonna play dany anyway and she's going to go insane like in the show so SHOW TRUTHING EVERY OTHER WAY and like again denying that sandor exists or that tyrion exists and like I barely touch my corner (sansan) but I ended up arguing with j*nsa/th*nsa people on twitter who were antis and is2g it was white-hair inducing and I know for sure the sansa/tyrion shippers were harassed to hell and back throughout so FUN

and even if the show didn't go there now since everyone there banked on the jnsa endgame thing and admitting you're wrong is like... not a thing, they still haven't let go of it and attach to that ship any shred of evidence which honestly is grasping at straws half of the time (like... the sansa/alysanne parallels like guys please no) and which is why every other ship is starting to get fed up, attaching canon proof of stuff from other ships onto theirs see that batb argument and jb is platonic but jonsa is not nvm taking all the sansan stuff and throwing it on j*nsa but then denying that sansan has canon evidence (like guys I had to read sansa touching his shoulder when saying gregor wasn't a true knight wasn't meaningful and we were seeing things please) and blah blah blah

this also goes hand in hand with the fixation on like... villanizing dany at all costs and like is2g I have zero investment in dany or her storyline I don't even remember it and I don't particularly care abt her either way and sure af I'm not for j*nerys endgame but like.... some stuff I read is completely excessive esp when fixing on how she's a completely mad tyrant who's gonna have to be put down and like... guys no

(also there's some srs stannis hate in that corner which I honestly don't get why they even care abt stannis but I had to read stuff like ppl don't recognize that dany and stannis are the real villains in this saga and like........ idek)

I think most of the og shippers are gone or don't ship it openly bc they don't want to be attached to the drama but like I also think they're pissing off everyone else bc like... I mean a bunch of them also were down with sansa being paired with other ppl as long as it meant a good ending for her except those ppl were... like everyone but the ppl she has actual contact with in canon which meant that at some point sansa/gendry was a thing and like.... you can imagine why arya/gendry shippers & arya stans were fed up, and there's also this tendency to behave like sansa is the center of the entire saga which like these books is named a song of jon snow basically can we pls make peace with it and personally I've had it with both j*nsa and j*nerys people since they started with that dumbass JON/YGRITTE WAS AN ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP rhetoric but I'm also fed up with the total ignoring that sandor exists/depicting us as delusional and honestly I also was by proxy fed up from the harassing of the sansa/tyrion shippers soooooooooooo

there were also instances of 'well theon is an acceptable choice other than jon bc he can't threaten her' which... i mean we all know what that meant and I'm not even commenting it bc it's one AM and I have no force to but I don't have to explain why it's not a progressive take now do I

there were also metas about how cousin incest being legal in half of the world means that jondany is a worse incest and j*nsa doesn't count as such and I was basically there like guys please just fucking own up to it but honestly I chose to forgot where I read that and I couldn't find the link if I tried

tldr: no one wants to admit that it's not gonna be endgame which considering the amount of fic they have on ao3 is imvho useless bc they have more content than like.. anything I ship that's not jb or that's actually like canon *cries in joncon/rhaegar but I mean renly/loras is canon and has less fic than them* so idk what's the problem with enjoying that instead of insisting it's gonna be canon when not even the show validated it while show truthing anyway when the only show truthing that can be truthed is the small council made of minorities and possibly jon eventually fucking off with the wildlings but not like that but like most people who thought it wasn't gonna be endgame had left/were made to leave by the time S7 rolled by and at this point since wow isn't out yet everyone is fandom-grasping at straws to find stuff to discourse on and we're here beating dead horses *shrug*

so that's... how it is but I would again like to point out that I don't judge ppl on their shipping, I don't particularly care about this entire feud bc I only ship jon with ppl he's not related to in whichever way and I try to stay out of this mess bc I don't really care to argue with ppl who have already decided to bend canon to whatever they want and will have to realize that it's not what grrm wrote at some point but like I have a very good memory and the above rant is as objective as possible also bc again I don't literally have a stake in that race I just think romantic/endgame j*nsa is not a thing and that ppl should stay in their lane and not harping on other ppl who ship whatever in general but especially when their ship is the most popular thing in fandom in the first place /two cents

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #anonymous #ask post #anti-jonsa #anti jonsa #anti-jonerys #anti jonerys #both of them for equality

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

Text

Mean Queens

This was for a prompt I mentioned earlier today. I decided to test my hand at Loyal!Alya fic to see how it plays out. Hope you like it.

Marinette had officially been exiled to the back of the class and excommunicated. Lila and most of the class had been waiting for Marinette to arrive; each with cold looks on their faces. The bluenette had looked for Alya, hoping her bestie could tell her what was going on. But there was no sign of the glasses-wearing girl yet. So she had tried to catch Adrien’s eye but he had refused to make eye contact.

Then it all came out.

The class accused her of being a mean and horrible to Lila since the day the Italian girl came to class. Nino told her she’d become even worse of a bully than Chloe. Alix had called her a jealous bitch. Most of the class agreed. Even Sabrina who usually followed around the blonde Queen Bee now clung to the coattails of the newest golden ticket.

The end result? They weren’t going to be her friends anymore.

“Cool,” Marinette had shrugged and took her seat in the back.

Chloe got to class just as it happened, took one look around, snorted, and joined Marinette in back; claiming the left seat next to her. She knew the difference between diamonds and fools’ gold. And diamonds are a girls’ best friend.

Alya arrived not long after. She had been late on purpose. The entire weekend, the class minus two (Marinette and Chloe) had been firing messages back and forth in a group chat about Marinette. It had started Friday after school. Nearly everyone had bashed their once favorite bluenette while Alya had been the only one to defend her. Adrien just said he wanted to stay out of it. Things took a dark turn when Alix admitted and joked to tripping Marinette as revenge. Then Mylene admitting that spilling coffee all over Marinette’s sketchbook hadn’t been an accident. It got worse from there. However, they all claimed it was in defense of Lila. Alya was left stunned. Nothing Marinette could’ve done deserved any of what they did. How could she be so blind as to not see that the so-called “accidents” weren’t accidents at all.

No matter what Lila said, Alya just couldn’t believe Marinette was capable of such things. She had known the girl far too long. And honestly, she was a little surprised the kids who she knew had known Marinette since like pre-k and then suddenly they could think the worse of the so-called “Everyday Ladybug”.

To make it worse, the things they said about Marinette were terrible and just mean. The girl who had done so much for them deserved better. So Alya kept fighting for her friend, trying to convince her friends that something wasn’t right. Maybe Lila was a bit confused or something.

But they wouldn’t listen.

Then Alya thought maybe if she could get Marinette to realize how amazing Lila was then everything would be fine. She just needed to show Marinette proof.

…There was none.

There was literally no evidence backing up any of Lila’s stories. Not even the ones about her mom being an ambassador. The only real information about anything fantastic the Italian girl did came from the Ladyblog. And Alya had deleted that video within seconds upon the realization that Lila hadn’t been telling the truth.

Alya didn’t hesitate to create another group chat about trying to explain that maybe something was a bit fishy about Lila. She spent most of Saturday just trying to get them to listen to her. But she just got accused of being biased. Even Nino had blatantly told her that she was too close to Marinette to see what she was really like.

Was this how Marinette felt, she had found herself wondering.

“Can you prove she doesn’t actually know Ladybug?” The words tasted sour in Alya’s mouth. The more she thought about them, the worst the taste and feeling in her stomach got. Though she had remained silent the look Marinette had given Alya was like the bluenette was questioning her sanity. Or maybe her intelligence.

Because Alya was officially questioning both about herself.

Of course, Marinette could prove Lila didn’t know Ladybug! She was the one who originally helped Alya get her first big interview with the hero.

And when Alya realized (remembered) that, she also remembered that fact Marinette knew Jagged Stone very well and could easily dispute Lila’s cat and plane story. Her bestie also knew Clara Nightingale and managed to become friends with the superstar; there was no way Marinette wouldn’t ask the singer if she knew Lila Rossi. She probably already had. And the answer was probably no.

Alya pinched her nose to fight the urge to slap herself. The idea that Clara Nightingale stole Lila’s dance moves was obviously a ridiculous lie; one she had eaten up.

By Sunday morning, Lila had subtly hinted that her classmates’ chances of meeting all the celebrities she knew and the opportunities they stood a chance for were decreasing. Or as Lila texted:

No one wants to be associated with a bully. (sad emoji)

I’d hate it if people thought you were one too.

They’d never work with you then.

That was all it took for the class to agree to drop Marinette like a hot potato.

And that was the final nail in the coffin as far as Alya was concerned.

She was at Marinette less than half an hour later. Alya apologized for not believing Marinette about Lila. She had taken off her glasses when she began to cry. She handed her phone over, and let Marinette read the group texts. The hurt that flashed over the Asian’s girl face nearly broke Alya’s heart.

“You’re my best friend,” Alya had stated firmly. “I should’ve trusted you. I should’ve had your back. I’ll do better. I’ll be better.”

Marinette wiped tears from her face. “You had my back when it counted the most.” A cold look appeared on her face. “Tomorrow, we’ll find out who’s really my friend.”

Alya agreed but wanted to point out that friends didn’t do what they did. She couldn’t stop herself from remembering all the nasty words and mean jokes they made about her bestie. “Okay, but then we get revenge.”

“Nothing to mean.”

“No promises.”

Alya looked at the faces of the kids who she was once her friends; to be clear, they weren’t anymore. She couldn’t trust them. If they could turn on someone like as awesome Marinette for a few sickly sweet promises and false tears, then they’d drop Alya, who could admit to herself she wasn’t nearly as nice as the bluenette, in a hot second.

She didn’t bother saying good morning to them. Alya shook her head and promptly walked to the back of the class and sat in the right (in more ways than one) desk next to Marinette’s. To her credit, Alya didn’t blink twice at Chloe’s new chosen seat; as she far she was concerned Marinette needed all the friends she could get.

Alya crossed her arms and glared at the class. A cold fury filling her. Still, she gave her ex-friends, Nino (her soon to ex-boyfriend), Lila a small smile and a chuckle, “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

There would be hell to pay for they did her best friend. This wasn’t war. No, War meant the ingrates in her class actually stood a chance. They didn’t. It was Marinette, Alya, and Chloe versus everyone else. This was a war, it was an execution.

First thing first was they had to plan.

After school, the three girls met up at Marinette’s.

“No matter more being a doormat, Dupain… Marinette,” Chloe corrected at the last second.

Marinette frowned, “I’m not a doormat.”

“You kind of are girl,” Alya said, despite the part of herself that hated agreeing with Chloe. They were on the same side, she reminded herself, the same team. “You’re are constantly running around to help everyone. You’re constantly doing favors; handing out free custom design clothes, banners, food, the works. And they treat you like dirt. They’ve been treating you like dirt, and yet you still help. It’s not right. I never thought it was.”

At first, Alya hadn’t said anything because she was too new and didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes. But she should’ve.

“It has to stop,” Alya continued. “They’re not your friends anymore; you don’t owe anyone anything. Even if they were; your designs are way too badass to be giving them away for free.”

Marinette nodded. She could agree to that

Chloe put a hand on her hip, “The three of us are the most formidable girls in class; possibly the entire school. Outside of class, most of the school loved Mariette; the artists, the geeks, the fashion club, bakers’ club. Thanks to the Ladyblog, Alya is the most known girl at school; people trust her because Ladybug trusts her. Me? I’m the richest girl in school and I throw the best parties; the elite follows me because they have no choice, and the popular because they don’t want to risk not getting an invite. As hot and as smart as we are, we are ruling that hellhole. You know what our problem is?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Marinette’s too nice. I’m too bossy. Alya’s too stubborn.”

It wasn’t the first time or the millionth that someone calls Alya stubborn. “We need to work as a unit; they come at one of us, they come at all of us. Lila isn’t done yet.”

“She lied her way to the top,” Marinette said. “As long as she thinks I’m any kind of threat to her, she won’t stop.

Chloe nodded, “Mostly because of the tops a long way from the bottom and it’s her social status, her reputation, everything she got since she came to school that’s on the line. The fall will kill her;”

“Then let’s make sure she takes our ex-friends with her,” Alya said darkly. “We got nowhere being nice and honest. Lets’ try mean and ruthless.”

Marinette wanted to protest but the texts from her so-called friends still tore at her. They had said so many hurtful things; about Marinette, her designs, her parents’ bakery. It was terrible. “What do you have in mind?”

Alya smirked, “We’re going full scorched earth.”

Revenge is a dish best served cold.

They let the class think they were safe; let the worry of any potential consequences slowly fade from their minds. It took weeks before their ex-friends would stop reading themselves for an attack whenever Chloe, Alya, or even Marinette entered the room. And during those weeks, the girls assembled their powerbases; slowly but surely, they took their rightful places at the top of the social hierarchy.

A few of the so-called Queen Bee of the school took afront of this and did their best to sabotage each other

But what none of the other social climbers expected was for the three to combine their forces. Marinette, Chloe, and Alya were cold and merciless in defense of their new positions; each one using their own unique still to remove or outright destroy their competition and anyone else that got in their way.

However, it was until Olivia Knight, the former most popular girl in school, popularity fell to just above the Goth kids that people finally got the message.

There were Three new queens in their school. Call them the Lannisters, Call them the Tyrells, or the Baratheons’; whatever However the message was the same. The Queens would do anything it took to keep their thrones.

Two months; nine parties, one school election, a dance (where Chloe was elected Queen) and joining seven clubs between them Marinette: Fashion and Art. Alya: Track and Comic Book Club. Chloe: Mathletes and Drama. Finally, all three joined the World Travels’ Club. That way they had a foot in with the nerds, jocks, the geeks, the loners, the goths, and (by way of throwing awesome parties) the popular kids. And Marinette, Chloe, and Alya were officially the most popular girls in school.

Marinette and Alya were surprised to learn the kids from Bustier’s class were lower on the overall school’s popularity scale than the creepy loner kid that hangs out behind the gym and smokes. They only really hung out with each other and seemed to have more problems than any other class in school. The main idea seemed to be that Bustier’s class was black hole no one ever managed to crawl out of until Alya, Chloe, and Marinette surfaced. Or a budding cult. Now that they had broken free, the three could see how they had gotten that idea.

When they were in class, it was like they were in their own world. They were all in high school now but most still acted as they did on their first days of middle school. It was like they refused to grow up, mature mentally and emotionally. Bustier never seemed to mind.

She was a hindrance. She blamed the victim and protected the bullies.

It was why Bustier had to go.

Getting Bustier fired was remarkable easy. A week’s work of videos of what life was life every day in her class, and she was gone.

A substitute didn’t come to replace her. No someone (Chloe) had leaned on Damocles hard to get the entire class split up until a permanent one could be found. Thus they were in for a hard lesson.

The first? Who really ruled the school?

The best part was for that ditch the girls were planning on leaving their ex-friends in, those morons brought the shovel themselves.

It took a few days for Bustier’s class to settled into their classes and schedule but once they did, they immediately tried to go back to their old ways.

The teachers shut down most of it; making it clear they would NOT be tolerating any crap.

Still, that didn’t stop everyone.

Bustier’s students, as they would be known by the students and teachers, yelled out they’re answered, frequently disrupted the class, argued loudly with each other.

Lila tried to spin her stories again but Marinette and Alya already spread the truth about how much of a liar she was so one bought anything she said. Most just ignored her. Lila didn’t like that. She thrived off attention. No attention meant Akumas. Unfortunately, this just caused Lila to look even more immature than she already did.

When Alix “accidentally” tripped Marinette. Marinette let herself fall, crash, and spill all her school supplies. Alix and Mylene snickered.

Aurore who had witnessed the event didn’t hesitate to call them out, drawing the attention of the other students. They saw Marinette on the floor, Alix and Mylene laughing and came to the correct conclusion. Marinette’s new friends rushed to help her, glaring viciously at the two girls while she did so.

Word spread quickly. And then Alya “accidentally” let it slip about the mean texts about Marinette. And then Chloe “accidentally” revealed all of the classes’ dirty little secrets; things that had only be known by Bustier’s students. Rumors flew.

It wasn’t long before most of the student body would rather be seen with the creepy loner smoker kid than with any of Bustier’s students.

No one realized just how true that statement was until Marinette announced yet another fantastic party. Chloe, Marinette, and Alya had become known for them.

…This party was different.

Usually, it was a mass invite; welcoming anyone and everyone.

This party was an invitation-only which was strange because it seemed like everyone in school was invited. Until they got to the party that Friday night and realized just who wasn’t.

Bustier’s students.

It was the worse sentence the Queen could’ve delivered to their ex-friends. It wasn’t just a drop on the popularity scale. It wasn’t social exile. The message was clear; Marinette, Chloe, and Alya would not tolerate their ex-friends whatsoever.

No one wanted to get on the girls’ bad side. No one would even consider risking it. No one wanted to be the next Olivia Knight. Olivia who never fully recovered her reputation or her social status; most of her old friends wouldn’t even speak to her anymore. They were not about to put their necks on the line for losers Bustier’s class.

They’d only lose their heads.

The (Demon) Queens of school decreed it, by next Monday, the students of Bustier’s class would be deleted.

And yet that still wouldn’t be enough for them.

As far as they were concerned they were only just getting started.

Move over Heathers, Plastics, the Queens have arrived.

#ml salt #ml fic #alya deserves better #class salt #a little bit of adrien salt #marinette dupain cheng

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lyranova · 3 years

Text

A Night to Forget

Hi guys~! This was the surprise I mentioned earlier, its my first ever Yamichar fic! But...i’m not really happy with it. Its kinda all over the place to me and they kinda feel out of character, so I may edit this again or delete it I dunno. But maybe you guys will like it! I hope its ok.

Genre: Fluff? Maybe?

Word count: 2,091

Warnings: None except drunkeness

———-

‘How did I end up in this situation?’ Was the first thought that went through Charlotte Roselei’s mind. She had decided to take a much needed break from her girls, now mind you she loves the girls in her squad, but sometimes they could be a bit...much. Normally, Charlotte wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this and yet here she was. She had been to this bar on one other occasion and it was with the other Captains. From what she understood it was where Yami Sukehiro, the Black Bulls captain, liked to frequent. Which was definitely not the reason she decided to stop by. Nope. The thought never even crossed her mind. Charlotte had only decided to come here on a whim, there was certainly no ulterior motive. That’s what she told herself at least.

Charlotte wondered how long it had been since she had last seen Yami. Maybe a month? Maybe longer if she were to guess. A part of her was thankful she hadn’t seen him as she always seemed to make a complete fool out of herself when he was around, but the other part of her, seemed to truly miss him and the way he made her heart race when he looked at her. Charlotte held her drink in between her hands, debating on whether taking a drink would help her relax a bit or if it would only inhibit her reaction if some man tried to make a pass at her or if they were suddenly attacked. Finally coming to the decision that a couple of sips wouldn’t hurt, she took the glass in her hand and took a drink.

Charlotte swore she only had two sips. Two sips! Yet somehow her head was kinda foggy, she felt somewhat sleepy, and warm. Like her face and body was next to a heater. Charlotte shook her head as though it would clear the fog, but all it did was make her dizzy. ‘In this situation, the best course of action would be to go home.’ She thought with a firm nod and she made her way off the bar stool and towards the tavern door, maybe she would have better luck seeing Yami at a future meeting with the Wizard King. Suddenly, Charlotte ran into some solid force that nearly knocked her over. ‘Good job Charlotte, you’re so wrapped up in thinking about Yami Sukehiro that you forgot to open the door!’ She berated herself until the door reached out and grabbed her arm to steady her. ‘Wait...doors don’t have arms!’ Charlotte instantly followed the arm to its owner and she felt her heart speed up and her face begin to flush even more.

“ Hey Prickly Princess, you alright?” Came the voice of Yami Sukehiro, the person she had been waiting two hours for. She blinked up at him, she thought for a split second she saw concern in his eyes but decided it was a figment of her drunk imagination. Charlotte pulled her arm out of his grasp and crossed them.

“ I’m fine Yami, I’m just headed back to the head quarters. I’ll see you at the next meeting yes?” She asked, hoping he wouldn’t notice the slight slur in her voice.

“Uh, sure. See you than I guess.” Yami said unsure as he moved away from the door to allow her to leave. She gave him a small nod and walked out the door, but not before slightly tripping over the threshold.

Yami stared after her, was she drunk? Her slightly slurred speech, her glossy eyes, and for sure her flushed face indicated she was. Yami began to walk over to the bar before he stopped, ‘Should I go after her?’ Yami asked himself. Charlotte was a strong woman, she could handle herself if she needed too, that he was more than sure of. She could take out an entire army if she were inclined to do so, but a small part of him wondered if she would truly be alright, that she wouldn’t somehow trip and fall into the water canal or something. Yami began to chuckle at the image of Charlotte falling into the water and her reaction, and as much as he would be amused to see that he eventually sighed and turned around.

Charlotte couldn’t believe she let the opportunity to talk to Yami slip from her fingers, that was the reason she even went to that stupid tavern! But she was so embarrassed that he saw her like this she felt she had to get out of their immediately. ‘Maybe this is all he and I are meant to be. Nothing more than colleagues.’ It was a sad thought but it made sense to her, it seemed like the universe was doing everything it could to keep her from confessing to him. ‘Oh well, I didn’t need a man before and I certainly don’t need one now.’ Charlotte nodded firmly before instantly regretting it, the world began to spin again. Just as she was about to lose her footing, a pair of strong arms grabbed her. Instantly Charlotte whipped around and punched her would be attacker square on the jaw, she wasn’t going to go anywhere without a fight. After her attacker let go, Charlotte moved to her fighting stance, ready for an attack but she was shocked when he stood up straight and she was looking into a pair of familiar grey eyes.

“ Y-Yami?” Charlotte relaxed and looked at him, even in the dim street lantern she could see a black eye forming on his face.

“ That was one hell of a punch princess.” Yami said as he rubbed his sore face, she scoffed.

“ You doubted my strength?” She asked crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at him.

“ No, I just never thought I’d be on the receiving end of one of your famous Roselei punches is all.” Charlotte slightly blushed at this and dropped her arms.

“ I’m sorry, I should’ve looked before punching you.” Yami waved her apology away as he walked towards her.

“ It’s fine, c’mon prickly princess, I’ll walk you back to your head quarters.” He walked past her as he said this, Charlotte whipped around to look at him.

“ I don’t need anyone to escort me home.” She told him, although a small voice in her head tried to encourage her to let him escort her home.

“ I know that, you’re one of the strongest people I know. So I believe you can handle yourself but,” Yami turned to look at her. “ I’d feel a lot better knowing you made it there safely myself.” Charlottes face flushed even more at his words, she knew Yami rarely showed people how much he cared for them so she felt truly honored to hear him say that. As she was about to thank him for his concern he continued.

“ Plus the last thing we need is you tripping and falling into some sink hole or something.” Charlotte glared at him and began to walk forward. ‘And here I was thinking he was actually concerned about me!’ She shook her head, she really needed to stop doing that because the world began spinning again. Charlotte stumbled into Yami and she didn’t think her face could get any more red.

“ How much have you had to drink?” Yami asked while keeping Charlotte steady, she looked up at him as she tried to think.

“Half a glass maybe.” She told him, Yami blinked a couple of times at her.

“Half a glass?” He asked and when she nodded in confirmation he sighed and put her arm around his shoulder and began to help her walk. “ You really are a light weight huh?” He added with a chuckle and all Charlotte could do was glare.

“ I’m sorry not everyone has the same alcohol tolerance as you.” Again Yami chuckled and Charlotte couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

‘How did I end up in this situation?’ Was the first thought that went through Charlotte's mind, her arm wrapped around Yami’s shoulder, him helping her walk back to her head quarters, all because she couldn’t hold her liquor. She and Yami had walked in silence for a while, she had been too embarrassed to start a conversation. She hated that Yami saw her like this, saw that she was so weak that she needed help walking, she hated it. She couldn’t even look at him, so she either kept her gaze on the ground or straight ahead.

“ What were you doing at the tavern anyway?” Yami asked her suddenly, Charlotte quickly looked up at him surprised by his question. “ It’s not really a place you frequent.”

“I...” She began, really unsure of how to answer him, in this state her brain couldn’t really come up with a good excuse so she decided to go with the truth. “ I went there to see you.”

“ To see me? What for?” Yami asked curiously, he couldn’t think of a reason as to why the Captain of the Blue Rose knights would want to see him. As Charlotte’s face flushed even more Yami began to wonder if she had actually had more than one drink.

“ I just haven’t seen you in a while and I wanted to see if you were ok.” She told him softly as she looked away again, Yami stopped walking and looked down at her.

“ You know you could’ve come by the hide out at anytime,” He told her “ so I don’t think that’s the only reason you wanted to see me.” Charlotte blinked, sometimes she could truly forget how perceptive he was. She continued to stare at the ground, hoping it would offer her some answers. If she was being completely honest with herself, she had gone to the bar to not only get away from her girls for a bit, but she also wanted to confess her feelings for Yami.

“ Actually,” Charlotte straightened herself up and looked him square in the eyes. “ there was something else.” This was it. She was finally going to tell Yami Sukehiro how she felt.

“ Ok, go ahead than.” Yami gave her his undivided attention and she couldn’t help but feel very nervous as she stared into his grey eyes. She cleared her throat before she began to speak.

“Yami Sukehiro I lo-“ Suddenly, the world began to dim ‘W-what’s going on? No. Nononono. NO! Not know, why’d it have to be right before I told him I loved him?’ Her voice screamed inside her head as the entire world went dark.

Charlotte Roselei had passed out.

“Hey! Hey Charlotte! Are you ok?” Yami quickly caught her before she could fall, concern etched on his face. When he realized she had only passed out he let out a sigh of relief, he than picked her up and carried her in his arms as he began to walk back to her head quarters. A small chuckle slipped past his lips.

“ Someone really needs to teach you how to hold your liquor better Prickly Princess.”

~~~~~~

The next morning, Charlotte woke up with a pounding headache. She was unable to recall the previous nights events, she knew she had gone to the tavern and had waited for Yami but after that it was all a blur. She looked towards the door as Sol knocked before entering. A wave of relief washed over the young girls face.

“Oh good you’re finally awake Char!” Sol said happily as she hand her Captain a glass of water before sitting down in a chair next to her bed.

“ I told you, call me Captain.” If Charlotte had a gold coin for every time she had to remind Sol of this, she would probably be richer than the King of the Clover Kingdom.

“ Whatever you say Captain Char!” Sol replied cheerfully and all Charlotte could do was sigh as she put her glass on the table next to her bed.

“ Sol, how did I end up back here?” Charlotte noticed the young girls face redden slightly before she answered.

“ U-Um...well.” Sol scratched the back of her head nervously as she recounted the previous night.

As all the memories of the previous night flooded back into Charlotte Roselei’s head when Sol began to explain, the entire Capital could hear the embarrassed scream that came from the Blue Rose Knights head quarters.

——

I’m sorry it’s not that good, there was more I wanted to add like a small scene between Sol and Yami but I might make that a small drabble or something. I just feel like I could’ve done better with this 😞. I also think I rushed the ending a bit too. But hopefully you guys maybe enjoyed it! If anyone wants to be added to the tag list please let me know! I hope you all have a good day~!

Tag List: @eme-eleff

#black clover #yamichar #yami x charlotte #charlotte x yami #i’m sorry #have a good day everyone!#first fic with canon characters

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