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#i am once again crying over the sin city brothers
fishy-xp · 2 years
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Macau Theerapanyakul - a character study (pt.3)
a deeper dive into our favourite mafia darling
*bangs pots and pans* that’s right, two Macau character studies in one day and it’s Episode 7 time bitches
I have finished discussing Ep 2 in my first character study and though there are mentions of Macau by Vegas and Tankhun later, I might save that for when I read the novel because I know Tankhun and Macau’s relationship towards each other are interconnected more so in the novel. 
Also Macau appears for like five seconds in Ep 6 and someone already summed up my thoughts here. Therefore, we will move onto the big daddy - my darling favourite Episode 7 aka Macau Content Goldmine
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Macau’s first appearance in this episode is by his lonesome at the large banquet table, with empty seats on either side of him. Sure, maybe they saved Vegas a seat because they know Macau wants to sit next to his favourite family member, but what is the reason for there being two empty seats? Macau is so obviously isolated from the bodyguards, who are all engaged in their own conversations that Macau has to reach over to ask for something. And it’s not like it’s an ‘out of respect for our young master thing’ since Gun is seen sitting with the bodyguards and chatting along with them. Macau also stands out in his school uniform, a blaring reminder that he is a child with a massive age difference from the bodyguards and the rest of his family. And who else is wearing a uniform and know they don’t fit in at this current moment? The major family bodyguards, but even they have each other. Macau has no one. 
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Macau greets the three bodyguards as well, showing that he is respectful. Maybe Vegas told him to be on his best behaviour because he’s scheming or maybe Macau just hated being in the main family compound in Ep 2 and that contributed to his bad mood and bratty attitude during the pond scene, whilst in reality, he is mild mannered and respectful. Either way, the framing of the conversation between Porsche and Vegas during this banquet scene is reminscent of another frame, namely when Vegas shows up at the club and Pete is initially in focus before it blurs him out to focus on Porsche. This exact framing is mirrored here where Macau is in focus when Vegas greets him but that focus is quickly shifted to Porsche. It indicates that whilst Macau (and Pete) are still in view, they are momentarily pushed aside because Vegas is focused on Porsche. Even though Macau is not in focus, we can still see his reactions. The first thing is that Macau is not doing anything. He’s not eating, he’s not talking, he is simply sitting there as though he is waiting for something. The second thing is that Macau keeps sneaking glances over to Porsche, or more correctly, over to Vegas, before looking away and sighing. Put two and two together, and it becomes quite apparent Macau is waiting to speak to his brother. Why? Because he has no one else. When they gather like this, Vegas is likely the only one who talks to Macau, asks him how his day is, what happened at school and everything else under the sun. But now, with his older brother’s attention on someone else for the time being, his one companion is preoccupied and Macau can’t do anything other than sit and wait until the adults are done talking. 
Everything about Macau in this scene is set up to show how lonely and isolated he is and why he feels the need to seek attention. Sure, at home, he feels more comfortable but this does not erase any of the isolation or loneliness he feels. 
Moving onto the next Macau scene, I could be wrong but when Macau catches Porsche getting on the bike, I think he says ‘Hey P/Phi’ (Thai honorific for older people), which further indicates that Macau, to a degree, respects Porsche. Macau is still in his school uniform here which reinforces that there is a age difference between them and also that he is a child. Furthermore, I think Macau’s apology is genuine. But I also do think Vegas did tell him to apologise for evil plot reasons based on the little nod of acknowledge as they walk past each other and Macau would not have apologised if Vegas didn’t tell him too. But since Macau was put into a position where he had to in order to help Vegas, the apology became genuine because as I mentioned in pt.1 Macau did look guilty about Porsche being choked unconscious. During his apology, Macau is both making eye contact, which communicates his sincerity, but also looks down at the ground, suggesting his guilt and shame. Also the clown light-hearted music stops as soon as Macau apologises, signalling that this is not a heeheehaha moment and that Macau is being serious. He also doesn’t just say sorry, which could have easily been done if he was faking it for Vegas. Instead, he takes pauses, his blinking speeds up just prior to his apology as if he’s thinking it through and repeating what he has to say, he stutters and wets his lips. We know from Ep 9 if Macau wanted to fake an emotion, he would do it seamlessly, he lies so easily to Pete and puts on this mask of enthusiasm, but that doesn’t happen here. Here, Macau shows real emotions, this isn’t practiced nor is it a performance. He wants to apologise because he is emotionally burdened by what his actions has resulted in and this kicks in all his nervous giveaways. Vegas also watches him from a distance, waiting until he’s done rather than being right there to play up Macau’s apology as ‘ohmygod look at my bro being so nice and kind’, because even after, he straight up tells Porsche that he had to tell Macau to apologise. He knows his brother is a good person, he wants to keep him that way so he doesn’t turn out like himself, he looks proud of Macau for owning up and taking responsibility. 
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Most importantly, is the way Macau repeatedly touches Porsche on the arm and on the shoulder in this scene. Macau seems to learn this from his brother who is very touchy and I think he interprets this as a sign of intimacy, as Vegas does the exact same pat to him once he finishes apologising, a literal pat on the back side of arm/shoulder lol. Both families, but especially the minor family, lie and use words to manipulate, mansplain and manwhore their way around the mafia world, so where words cannot be trusted, it is actions and touch that depict their true feelings and emotions (as evidenced by KP whenever they fuck ahem, make love as an apology, as whatever happened in Ep 4 etc etc.) so Macau’s touches are his attempts at communicating that he is being sincere. 
Macau is a good kid. He is just a little a lot lonely. 
P.S. I hope what we see is Macau parallelling Vegas’ actions in a lot of ways but for good. I hope he becomes everything Vegas couldn’t be because of the abuse, the competition and the toxicity of the entire mafia life. Macau becomes a happier Vegas under the guise and protection of Vegas because at the very least, it’s what he deserves and Vegas would do anything to see his brother smile. 
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My boy deserves all the validating shoulder pats.  
[Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7]
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jgkttfv · 3 years
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Synopsis: Do you know this hackneyed phrase "from hatred to love is one step"? The usual boring set of words, which does not evoke any romance, only laughter and nothing more. But what if, to change it - there are three steps from passion to sadism: love, dependence and tears.
Pairing: yandere+bully!jungkook×reader
Rating: 18+
Warnings: non con, dacryphilia, smut, yandere theme, rough sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, sadomasochistic relationship, unprotected seх, age difference .
a/n: this is a request. it will turn out much more than just a one-shot, although I did not even plan.
visualization: motorcycle, JK, Jimin
Taglist: @minshookie29 @mwitsmejk
English is not my native language!
Part two
Part three
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Lover of my tears: part one
Dear diary, today is a truly wonderful day - my parents left for a two-week vacation in another city closer to the forest, as they say "We will restore the lost connection with nature, my child", sounds terrible, but my father says it so funny that I am ready to climb the wall from a pleasant pain in the abdomen. Now I can enjoy these days without my loved ones and have a mini-party with my best friend Park Jimin.
It is strange that most people say the same thing, "There can be no friendship between a guy and a girl," very strange, downright strange, there is nowhere more strange. Although who knows, Jimin has always been just my best friend and older brother, whom he will always give money for ice cream, well, or help out, or rather save my beautiful ass from my parents. Although, maybe I don't feel anything, but Pak loves?
Actually, I like someone else. He is a little older than me (about 7 years old, but it doesn't matter, because all ages are submissive to love), pumped up, tall, with tattoos all over his body (tattoos are a class), piercings and a cheeky manner of communication, and the most important thing in him is his black motorcycle Yamaha Yzf-R6 "19 (you should have seen it) and hobbies. And the name of this handsome guy is also so impudent JK.
"Are you writing something in your personal diary again? Oh, that's,"— Park pauses for a second, examining a flabby pink notebook: worn over the years of service to a friend and crumpled from numerous touches during these times. The guy's gaze slides over the girl's hands, once again directing his gaze into these beautiful eyes. — "stupid and childish. By the way, you will soon become a year closer to death, you need to think about the future, look for a coffin, and you? You compose poems in this semblance of a notebook that survived an atomic war." —  Jimin's raised tone of voice clearly expresses a slight discontent behind the stupid jokes, from which he himself bursts into laughter, standing in front of your desk.
"Stop this endless tirade, Park Jimin! Your laughter is already splitting me head," — demonstratively placing your hands near your temples and pressing your middle fingers to them, you try to portray the pain, emitting a slight groan in order to confirm the "migraine".
"It is not surprising that you did not become a new star in the sky - an actress such a terrible world has never seen. Emotions are too pretentious here, my lady, you should have made them a little more alive."
Park raises his hands up and shows how to play the headache "correctly". Showcase. He has always been like this: a master of words, subjugating the old dialect of the English aristocracy; too artistic, sometimes hefty unrealistic or feigned, replayed. Yes, it looks impressive in the eyes of other girls and guys who are far from art, from theater, from the sublime aesthetics of emotions and feelings. Like them, it is only important to satisfy the base needs by finding a person and sleeping with him, for the sake of a few seconds of orgasm. Sometimes this need borders on immoral and sinful desires:to make the victim cry before sexual torture or to keep her in the basement, shackling her arms and legs in chains so that the poor body would be stretched out in the shape of a star. As some people say: "This position allows you to enjoy the helplessness of the victim and taste the fruit of power, harsh domination over the body of a martyr or martyr."
" I could have praised my efforts," — a disgruntled sigh comes from your lips, making another eye contact with a friend to continue the speech and emerge victorious from this "game". — "besides, I didn't want to be an artist. My soul has always been in a different direction, that's why I am here, at this university, where I have dreamed of enrolling since childhood.
"Bore, you still,miss, dreaming of entering this university."
"You're no better, Mr. Park a la lovely - no actor Jimin."
No, you are wonderful friends, but the tongues are pierced with one thousand nine hundred and ninety-seven needles, containing snake venom that can lull an innocent mind, turning its owner into a wretched brat who loves to swear and defile his neighbor. Fortunately or unfortunately, you are not alone, like the whole of humanity of this terrible world in the twenty-first century has such a "ability" — to mock people you are dear to.
"Milady, will you go to Bringis Park today? They say the guys from the fifth year are going to make a "crazy" race,"— Jimin raises his arms at chest level and emphasizes the penultimate word, as if he already knows that this race will be the exact opposite of what he just said.
"Maybe."
"Your answer is still meek ..."
"Shut up already, Park Jimin. Come on without your that English aristocracy. " — A sharp cry quickly gives way to a funny face, focusing on Park's terrible trait: excessive artistry.
All the subsequent way to the hostel, you walk in silence, only occasionally glancing at each other, as if plotting something. You do not need extra words, the usual chatter and loud laughter throughout the street, frightening passers-by and causing disgust. You two are already comfortable - silence, this is what is most beautiful and not defiled in this world, and you need to try to get, feel and visit the silent abyss while there is a chance.
Until he came for her.
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dangermousie · 3 years
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Hello !
I was wondering whether you could rate and tell us of your top 5 favourite webnovels/cnovels of all time ?! (Sorry if this has already been answered lol😅)
Thank you, stay safe and have a nice day🖤
Awww, thank you and that is such a lovely ask!!!
From n1 to n5, here they are (they happen to be all danmei.)
1. The Husky and His White Cat Shizun (2ha) - my n1 forever and ever.
Taxian Jun, the horrific cultivation emperor of the world who razed cities and destroyed sects, is surrounded on his mountain. The righteous sects are terrified to confront him but tired of living, Taxian Jun consumes poison and dies by suicide at the age of 32. And opens his eyes as 16 year old Mo Ran, Mo Ran long before he became Taxian Jun, Mo Ran who is excited at a chance to save the one person he loved and lost. Oh, and to deal with his loathed shizun, the unapproachable and strict Chu Wanning, his past life’s biggest enemy.
I have no idea if it’s objectively the best on this list but it hits every trope I love, its bleak worldview (the world will change only incrementally but that’s enough, average person will not appreciate the sacrifice but it’s still worthwhile, and love is worth everything) mirrors mine, and the sheer complexity of the plot and cascade of plot twists each of which is insane and yet completely logical, is amazing (this is a rare novel where it’s even more fun to reread than read for the first time because you keep seeing all the hints and trail crumbs laid out that you did not see the first time.)
And the characters!!! I mean, this novel has multiple universes/timelines, a side trip to the Underworld AND the demon realm, a plot more twisted than a store’s worth of pretzels and yet the thing that hits me the most are the characters. Mo Ran is my favorite web novel character of all time and I love Chu Wanning so. All the secondary characters are wonderfully written (and some of them made me bawl) and they are all complex. My opinion of all of them changed many times over; the novel doesn’t make it easy to love some of them but then you do and it’s so worthwhile! That slow change is one of the delights of the novel - I started out disliking the unpleasant, superior Chu Wanning and cruel, callow Mo Ran and then I loved them so so hard and cried for them so so hard and was in awe of their heroism and sacrifice and selflessness and capacity to love.
Oh, and the fact that this novel does something almost impossible - it has its protagonist start out as so clearly irredeemable and then slowly and painfully and thoroughly redeems him (without ever letting the reader forget what it is he needs redemption for.)
Also, for a novel that made me cry so hard I felt ill, this book is just so damn funny with the most sarcastic sense of humor imaginable (the serious angst doesn’t even kick in until 90+ chapters!)
Anyway I should stop or I will write a dissertation. But this is the one web novel that I would put in my top 5 not just web novels but any novels in any shape or form. The plentiful trigger warnings are there for a reason so stay away if they are an issue, but if not, if anyone hasn’t read it yet, what are you doing with your life?!
2. Stains of Filth (Yuwu) - another novel by the author of 2ha. Clearly she just pushes all my buttons every time. This one is much shorter and has a plot that is twisty but less twisty than 2ha. Still, all that means is that intensity and the pain are more concentrated.
Aristocratic Mo Xi and former slave Gu Mang were both legendary generals of the empire and lovers. But Gu Mang betrayed the country and switched to the enemy. Now he is back as a peace offering by that country and Mo Xi has to deal with the fact that his feelings are as strong as ever.
This novel!!! So much pain and intensity!!! So many amazing plot twists and supporting characters. The same bleak world view, the same unjust society, the same protagonists doing right things despite the cost. Mo Xi’s intensity and inability to let go (he’s imprinted on Gu Mang and that’s it) is romantic, bone-shakingly intense, and tragic all at once. And oh Gu Mang! So many times I just wanted to reach into the book physically to protect him. The novel deals with unjust societies, memory versus personality, what it’s like to be good in a bad universe etc. And it both made me sob and giggle, repeatedly, and sold me on literally death-defying (but not honor-defying!) love.
Oh, and special shout out to the fact that like 2ha, you may start out hating some characters and end up a rabid fangirl (cough Murong Lian!)
3. Qiang Jin Jiu - a dense political tome that takes a while to get going but then it’s a runaway train.
In a fictional dynasty, Shen Zechuan, the only remaining son of a disgraced aristocratic family and Xiao Chiye, the younger son of a family of generals guarding the border join forces (and then something else) to get power and pull down the dysfunctional system.
This is so elegant and smart (a rare web novel I’d recommend to anyone who just loves solid period fiction) and you probably need a notebook to keep track of the politics and military strategy. These characters are very very smart not just because the author says so.
As to the characters, there is a large cast and I love many of them, but for me the novel is made by Shen Zechuan and Xiao Chiye. SZC is gorgeous and delicate and icy and can kill you before you have time to blink. Saddled with the sins of the family he had no pleasant interaction with, he claws his way out of hell (seeing the sinkhole he was trapped in, literally as well) to take down those who wronged him but also to amass power so all the tragedy and corruption won’t happen again and the whole rotten system comes crashing down. XCY is a military genius who is trapped as a hostage in the capital because the court doesn’t trust his family. He longs to return to the plains of home and to take his rightful place. The two men start out as bitter enemies, then reluctant and sniping allies, then as friends and eventually as one of the most gorgeous, tender, swoony OTPs.
Anyway this is one is a bona fide masterpiece, equal parts smart and emotionally intense.
4. Wu Chang Jie - are you an emotional vampire? I am and this novel is a banquet.
In a highly fantastical setting, we meet our protagonists - the sunny Xie Bian and the intense and surly Fan Wushe. Xie Bian is a human who assists his master in conveying souls to the underworld and making sure no mishaps happen. Bian is concentrated sunshine in human form and to meet him is to love him. When the novel opens, his drunk master brings back another human to be his shidi and assist with duties - said human is uncommunicative, intense and surly Wushe. Bian is excited to have a shidi but little does he know that a story dealing with the horrors of past lifetime is about to start.
Anyway, why WCJ? So many reasons. It has such a dark bleak worldview - this world is a horrifying system where powerful cannibalize each other’s cores for an impossible chance to ascend, where gods have sealed off their realm and all that’s left is neverending human misery and hell (the only way you’d see a deity is if they’d been sent down to suffer over and over and over), where even reincarnation doesn’t fix things and bad acts are often unpunished. And the novel then asks - is it worth being a good person in such a world? More, is it worth being a good person in such a world when nothing good has ever happened to you and you have been repeatedly betrayed due to your goodness? And the answer, on Bian’s part, is an uncompromising yes.
Ah yes, the other reason to love this novel - the protagonists and their fucked up fucked up relationship. Bian (who was Prince Ziheng in the past life) is so genuinely good. But he is that rare thing - good but not saintly, noble but not cloying. So much of the novel is his getting taken apart over and over and barely able to put himself back together every time but his soul is still as amazing as ever.
And then there is Wushe (who was Prince Zixiao in past life, Ziheng’s not-bio-related brother.) Wushe is not a good person. He is a monster. And he loves Bian/Ziheng more than his life and his soul and the entire world but he’s also the one who hurt him more than anyone else ever could and did it over and over. His love survived a literal century of torture in the worst kind of hell and refused the usual memory loss of new life. But it also humiliated and broke Ziheng down to his constituent parts.
One of the things that is so fascinating to me about this novel is the question of what can be forgiven/what should be forgiven/what kind of expiation is enough/can you ever love someone who you loved so much and then he hurt you so badly and is now repentant? And it never sweeps trauma under the rug or hand waves it away but deals with it head on.
If you want healthy relationships, you should stay far away from this novel but if intense insane ones with a feral barely human one capable of destroying the world leashed by love and guilt to the sane deeply good one is your bag, come right in.
There is also the world building and the fact that yes, the big fall out between Ziheng x Zixiao is based on not knowing all the facts but it’s not “why can’t you talk?! This is dumb!” But is totally in keeping with both events and their characters. It’s reasonable for Ziheng to do what he does and for Zixiao to misunderstand and decide Ziheng is now his biggest enemy (but still one he’s fixated on) and for Ziheng to never be able to clarify.
Anyway, once again this is trigger warning central so please heed those, but if they are no issue, this one is wonderful.
5. OK, this is hard and switches between Sha Po Lang, Heaven Official’s Blessing and The Golden Stage depending on my mood. So what the hell, I am gonna write about all of them.
Sha Po Lang - so smart and so much clever world building. There is enough politicking to satisfy a Qiang Jin Jiu fan, it’s steampunk, and our two protagonists - Gu Yun, the empire’s most powerful general, who’s loyal to the empire despite being badly wronged by it, and Chang Geng, a cursed prince with barbarian blood and horrifying childhood - are wonderful separately and together. This is a huge slow burn but it’s totally worth it! They fall in love with each other’s hearts and brains and ability as much as anything. (Yes, this is the one with the yifu thing. Gu Yun is made Chang Geng’s foster father when he rescues him and brings him back to the capital as a way to keep CG safe in imperial strife. They are 12 and 19 at the time so clearly it’s never a parental relationship.)
Heaven Official’s Blessing (TCGF) - I love it’s sprawling narrative and cast, I love its inventive setting and picaresque story. It’s hilarious and can make me cry. But the novel’s place on this list is due to Xie Lian who is part Kenshin part drama WWX part pure goodness wrapped in heartbreak and trauma wrapped in sunshine.
The Golden Stage - two smart and principled (yes, they both have principles different though they may be) men navigate their arranged marriage, their past friendship and their past break up, become a super couple (one of the healthiest danmei couples I’ve ever read and proves healthy doesn’t have to be boring), save the country and bring down the emperor or two and just generally this is my rainy day book.
I guess I didn’t write as much for the three n5 candidates as I did for 1-4 but my brain is beginning to curdle so...
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spookysmujer · 4 years
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Maraschino pt.2, O. Diaz
Summary: After the rejection from Oscar, things seems to take you on a roller coaster ride. 
warnings: angst, f e e l s, theTEAbeenSPILLED ☕️ daddy issues
word count: 3.5K
a/n: Here is the highly requested part 2 of Maraschino! I had fun writing this though if it is trash it’s because I wanted to hurry and get it out for y’all since I been getting msgs. heh. But Ray? Whew chile, the ghetto! Part 3? Please enjoy and don’t forget: follow the blog, heart/comment/reblog the content as well as turn on the notifs! (Y/S/N: your sister’s name)
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(gif belongs to @thesewickedhands​ ✨)
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 “Have a wonderful day!”
God, why is the person yelling? You smile weakly and squeeze your eyes nearly shut as the sun is blazing down on you while you say your thanks and exit the uber. The throbbing of your head and the loud lawnmower from one of your neighbors has you internally cursing.
How did you end up like this? Granted this was the plan last night to go out and have a good time, you certainly did not expect to be doing such a thing. You never let yourself get to this point before. But you also never got denied like you did with Spooky last night. A shiver goes through your body as you think of him. You won’t let him infiltrate your mind no more.
“Y/N!” Your sister’s voice sounds frantically as you round the corner of the house.
Well there goes your plan to sneak in through your window to pretend you were in your room all along. She wraps your arms around you, gluing herself to your body causing you to stumble back a bit. “You are a dead woman walking!” She whispers to you as you arch an eyebrow at her. 
As confused as you were, José appears from around the corner taking long strides towards you. His face sports no emotion of missing you but a lot of anger. It causes you to automatically back up the closer his approaches you. Your sister has since removed herself from you as your brother is now in your face.
You blink as you peer up at him, “Where the fuck have you been, hermana? You know how much shit you are in, hm? I get a call from Y/S/N saying you aren’t home. I assure her you would be and when she calls me at 6 in the morning telling me that you still aren’t in? You left a note?”
“José! Calmate, I went out with a friend. And I spent the night. What’s the big deal about that?” You briefly explain yourself. He laughs for a moment before grabbing you by your upper arm and pulling you towards your sister. Now it’s her turn to start backing up, “Ven aqui, her! That’s the big deal. When I ask you to be the sister you need to be, I don’t mean when you feel like it. You know the Santos have been getting into heavy shit lately. I need you here when I’m not!” 
The tension is thick as you pull your arm from his hold and push him, “But when you wanna go and do whatever it’s okay? When you wanna hitch a ride with Spooky to Sin City with dirty ass hynas last week, it’s all good. Business trip, huh? Don’t come for me when you are far from perfect!” 
The two of you are both very stubborn with your brother usually being calm and collected while you’re more expressive with your feelings. Family is important to him especially considering it’s just the three of you. Jose scoffs as you stomp away from him and your now crying sister. 
Oscar suddenly appears in front of you as round the corner and collides with his body. He reaches out to grasp you before you can stumble back, the feelings hitting you all at once, “What are you doing here?” You swallow thickly.
He licks his bottom lip as his eyes rake over your body. Still in your dress from last night, hair unruly and make-up smudged. Anyone can spot a ‘walk of shame’ when they see one. He laughs internally thinking of how you wasted no time after last night’s rejection.
“I offered to drive him when little hermanita called up again worried you weren’t home yet. Seems we know why now.” A small grin painted across his lips, you squint your eyebrows at his words as you hear your brother approaching the two of you. You step back before Spooky migrates his eyes to behind you, “We got business, everything good here?”
José nods and steps beside you, “Don’t be leaving.”
The two guys leave as you stand there a bit dumbfounded. Y/S/N appears next to you and grabs your hand. She apologizes for you getting into trouble with José. You want to yell at her for starting unnecessary drama. But she explains she didn’t want your brother to potentially find out about your little sneaky link with Spooky.
“Well, he and I ended that shit so nothing to worry about. I went out and got wasted. I am done with these guys. No más!” Though even sounding like fake news to yourself, you go and wash off last night’s memories. 
As the day had gone by, you skimmed through your daily journal of all the entries you wrote about Oscar ‘Spooky’ Diaz, ripping them out. All 6 pages. You roll your eyes at your thoughts about him, some sappy and some nasty. How did you believe a man who runs a street gang, that is as mean mugging as Oscar the Grouch from Sesame Street, would be into you the way you are him?
It didn’t matter the answer now. Good riddance of him! That’s when the sound of your window opening pulls you from the wandering thoughts. You stand up quickly, reaching for a bat that’s besides your bed. “Get the fuck out!”
“Calmate! It’s me, Oscar.”
You clutch your chest, doubling over to catch your breath. “What is wrong with you? Ever think of flying a pebble at the window or calling first?” You say as he climbs in, adjusting his flannel before closing the window then your room door. You watch him as he starts to look around your room. Though there’s a part of you that wants him out, you haven’t made any advances to get him out.
He sits on your bed and finally looks at you, “Abajo.”
Uncompliant, you cross your arms and shift your weight to make it known you are fine standing there. He smirks and looks away before locking eyes with you. “You don’t think I like you too? You think I fucked with you for this long cause it was just convenient? Girls everywhere around my place but I was only fucking you. Why do you think that?”
“Is this supposed to be your sweet confession that makes me go all heart eyes? You're gonna apologize and I’m supposed to forgive you and then we give us a try and realize all our worries were nothing but fear that our anxiety instilled in our heads? Because that’s not how it’s gonna go.” You say as he gives you a semi-disgusted look.
You chuckle softly and watch him intently.
Oscar analyzes you closely. It’s a front, no doubt he thinks. He doesn’t deny the thought that you are a thick-skinned woman. He knows you have a superior mind and a mouth to go with it but he knows there is no way that you could’ve gotten over him that quick. Though judging by your appearance earlier in the day, you definitely tried.
You laugh a little more as you step in front of him and lean over to get your vision in line with his. “You made it clear to me and now I’m making it clear. Nothing you say will convince me that you give a rat’s ass about me. If you really did? There would be no sneaky link shit. You wouldn’t have a problem with people knowing about me, or my brother knowing but it is a problem so get out.”
This ticks Ocscar off a bit. He stands which makes you straighten up as he gets in your face, stepping towards you. You are stepping back slowly as he creeps more, “You think you can handle this lifestyle? The constant threats, the territories? You can’t. When it comes to this kind of life, something like love can be the bane of your existence. So we don’t get into it. We don’t get involved because the people we fall for end up dead.”
You’re pressed with your back against the wall and your chests against each other. Oscar’s eyebrows are connected and he’s staring at your agape mouth. His breath is fanning against your lips, emotions hitting you all at once. “I-I slept with someone last night. Got it good too.”
The jealous tactic seems to fail immediately as Oscar laughs. And for some reason the look of amusement on his face seems to be familiar for a reason you can’t seem to figure out.
“Sleeping around is simple, falling for someone is something else entirely. I’m not saying that we jump into something. But at least you know now it’s not just one-sided.” He steps out of your room. You follow and watch him walk down the hall as Y/S/N stands there. She is stunned seeing Oscar nonchalantly trek through the house.
You don’t know what to say. As you look at your little sister, you sigh in defeat trying to explain this one. Instead you go back into your room and shut your door. You got what you wanted, right? But you still feel like something is missing. 
The week had slowly crept on.
A few shifts at the bodega, classes at the community college and life at home. Jose had basically converted you back to your teenage ways. Making sure you were doing your part in parenting your little sister. Friday night Y/S/N wanted to have Dwayne’s BBQ for dinner and since your social life is drier than your skin, you agree. 
The thought of a  BBQ bacon cheeseburger lifts your mood which has been dragging throughout the week. Your sister happily skips into the restaurant as you trail behind slowly, when you enter you look for her and see she chatting up with Dwayne. 
“Y/N!” José calls out and your vision unfocuses from them onto your brother and pile of Santos in a booth. They all look your way including Oscar. You exhale a deep breath through your nose as you put on a fake smile and wave before stepping up to place an order. 
 Your brother approaches you as you look past him to the booth of Santos, “Didn’t know you guys would be here.” He sets down a $20 bill on the counter when the cashier tells you the total. “Foos gotta eat too.” José starts talking to you about something but your focus falls back on Spooky again. You watch as he stands and makes his way towards you. A small panic sets in your chest but fades away as he ends up exiting the BBQ joint. 
Unknowingly to yourself, your watch as he walks to his car. He leans against it and pulls out a cigarette, no matter how hard you try to avert your eyes from him, you can’t. All week you had been doing fine. Even with the little things reminding you of him, even with the memories that have been seeped into your bed. You didn’t dwell too much on thinking of him until you see him now. 
“Talk to him.” 
It’s just like the movies where the car tires come to a screeching halt and there’s the obnoxious crashing sound. You move your eyes to your brother’s. Did he just say what you think he said? “Talk to him? Spooky, what for? Why would I need to talk to him?”
Jose chuckles, “Hermana, I had my suspicions about you two. Then he told me bout it, he acts like it doesn’t bother him much but it does so go talk to him. Yeah, I’m not so thrilled that he’s messing around with my baby sister. I know how he is but I know he wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt you so I’m cool with it. So go talk to him, figure that shit out because I’m getting over you moping around the house.”
You push him away as you look back to the red impala.  After a moment of contemplating it, you decide to head out and approach Oscar, he had his eyes on you since he settled by his car. You lean on it besides him and cross your arms, “You told my brother?”
He smirks and shrugs his shoulders. You try your best to keep the smug look off your face. He holds out the cigarette, you take it and inhale. Coughing a bit as the smoke burns your throat a little. You hand it back and sigh, turning to look at him.
“I like you, you like me. I’m not saying we jump into something… but why not?” You question as he exhales some smoke, you lock your eyes into his, “You ain’t cut for this lifestyle, you would be a liability. Plus your brother in my line of work? That makes him vulnerable as well. It woul--”
You groan loudly which quiets him mid-rant, “Drugs, alcohol and money do all the same things to him too. You see how he is when he gets wasted. There are so many things that make you all vulnerable. If he can make it work with the hyna he’s with, then you can make it work with me. Plus I know this lifestyle more than you think. I know when and where to be and not to be. I know who to know and who not to know. I know things! So don’t act all big bad Spooky to me.”
Now standing directly in front of him and he’s peering down at you. He dips his face lowers and looks at your lips as you look at his. In no time your lips are connected. Oscar slides his hands over your waist, gripping it and pushing you flush against him. You bring your hands to cup his face, letting your tongue slip into his mouth. A full on make-out session breaks out.
As if you didn’t dream of something like this happening you smile into the kiss, pulling away, “You get into this with me, it’s not gonna be glitter and gold. This shit is tough, I can’t be worrying about the things I already do plus you.” You nod and kiss him again, wringing your arms around his neck, he hugs you and feels calm for the first time in a while.
So you enjoy the night more than you thought you would be. With your siblings and the Santos at Dwayne’s. After a night of chatting, Oscar asks you to come back to his place. And well since it isn’t your first rodeo, you agree and send Y/S/N home with José. 
You don’t keep your hands off him while heading back to his place, you are pressed against him and kissing his neck, he is loving every moment of it. The both of you get out to head into the house but the mood is killed when you walk in to find Cesar and his friends on the couch who get frightened due to the scary movie playing on the TV.
Oscar cursing under his breath, “Can’t you watch movies at some else’s house?” You elbow him as he rolls his eyes. But Cesar didn’t want to start anything with his older brother so he asks Jamal if they can continue watching at his house. Soon after the house is empty and quiet again. The two of you settle on the couch, you straddling him and pulling your top off.
“Yo! There’s someone posted up outside!” Cesar suddenly bursts through the door which causes Oscar to push you off him and reach for his gun. He tells the younger Diaz, his friends and you to stay put as he checks out the fool that runs up on the Santo trap house. You scramble to put your shirt back on and curse when Cesar trails after his brother. You follow in pursuit, trying to tell Cesar that Oscar said to stay inside. “Who is that?” 
“Ray?” You say out loud though you thought you were just thinking it.
Oscar turns to you when you say the name of none other than his estranged father. You look to both Ray and Oscar, looking at the two men and making the connection. You feel the color get sucked out of your face, oh fuck.
“You know him, who is he?” Cesar asks you and he looks at Oscar. The Santo leader has his eyes on you and is still confused as to how the hell you know his father. “He’s our father.” Oscar says, still looking at you.
The confirmation makes you want to be obliterated right in your very spot. This can’t be happening! Is it? You try to speak but nothing comes out of your mouth. You finally look to Ray who has a small smirk on his face and that’s why that look Oscar had on his face that day seemed so familiar. You saw it that night you went out of town to have a good time. 
“Hola de nuevo, pequeña coyote.” Ray says looking at you. 
You grimace as Oscar connects the dots himself. The amount of heat that settles into your face along with the gasps from Cesar’s friends don’t make it any easier to bear.
“Wait Oscar, wait!” He is stepping towards his father, ready to charge. “I didn’t know he was your dad! Listen to me, please!” You step forward quickly and pull his arm back, he yanks it out of your grasp quickly as you plead for him to listen to you.
Oscar begins to snap at you, “Him? This is who you slept with and you want me to listen to explain? Huh?!” The anger booms in his voice as he is mere inches from your face. Cesar appears next to you trying to get between the two of you. You didn’t think Oscar could ever get so mad. And you have seen the Santo leader in moments of rage before. 
“Mijo, listen..” 
Ray’s voice sounds from behind Oscar now. He turns and wastes no time in welcoming him with a right hook. His father stumbles back as you gasp along with the sounds from the teens. “Oscar!”
You take the initiative to stand between the two of them, holding out a hand against Oscar’s chest as he is heaving and exuding anger. Ray is mending to his jaw as he stands up. You notice the lights of the neighbor had turned on and people were beginning to pile outside of their homes to see all the commotion.
“Oscar just stop and listen to me for one fucking second! No, I did not sleep with Ray. We did get together that night, yes but we didn’t do anything that involves other body parts. I started going off about you with him, I vented and we spent the night drinking. I got too wasted and he offered to let me spend the night in his motel room. Nothing happened!” You release in one breath. 
Everyone looks at you, unable to make sense of the situation. 
“That’s why I came, when she mentioned things about you, I had to come see for myself if what niña said is true. That you’re running the Santos.” The two men stare at each other as you stand in the middle. Your heart is racing. 
Oscar doesn’t say anything as he looks back and forth between his father and you. When you step towards him and reach out to grab his hand, he raises his hand up in defense and steps back. You can see the glint of hurt in his eyes as he backs away from you. Your eyes pleading for him to try to understand everything.
You trail behind a fuming Oscar into his house, you are nearly jogging when you catch up with him. But he steps into his room and slams the door in your face. You step back and sigh. “Please talk to me…Oscar. Nothing happened, you have to believe me.” 
He doesn’t respond as you rest your head on his door. You hold your hands on the door silently cursing yourself. What could you say that made the situation sound better? How could you make it look like it really was nothing even with Ray right there?
A few moments have passed by when the door opens, a still very upset Oscar stands there as he flies forwards a bunch of crumbled paper at you. You watch as the papers fall to your feet and he slams the door in your face again. No context of nothing. 
When you pick up the papers, it’s drawings of you. Portraits sketched out from a ballpoint pen. Some dated as far back as a month ago to as recent as a few days ago. Oscar drew you. He did so multiple times and in such craft it takes your breath away. 
You feel the tears begin to well in your eyes. The pain that you have caused him. How do you fix this?
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ssa-babygirl · 4 years
Text
Out of My League [Part 2]
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader
Word count: 4.5k (ohohohoho i went OVERBOARD with the dialogue here I am sorry for all the useless exposition)
Summary: Most things have changed in the last 10 years, but it’s safe to say that a few things stayed exactly the same. Mixed POV
Warning(s): Mentions of past bullying, mentions of cheating, mentions of kidnapping, general criminal minds stuff, cursing, VERY VERY BRIEF MENTION of a miscarriage and leukemia like it’s one sentence and that’s all
Author’s Note: The moment yall have been waiting for! They grow up so fast!! I’m going on a quick trip this week and then heading back to school a few days later, so the next part may take a little longer, but I’m super excited to write it!!
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Las Vegas, Nevada, 2004
(Spencer’s POV)
My first case out on the field was not a pleasant one. Well, it rarely is, that’s what happens when you work for the FBI to catch serial killers. For the first couple of weeks at the BAU, I helped them consult on cases, but they weren’t sure I was ready to go out on the field with them. After I got my weapon certification, Gideon told me he wanted me to come along on the next case because I was familiar with the area. There had been a series of child abductions near Vegas, my hometown. I would have been much more nervous about traveling had I not been able to see my mom while I was there. I hadn’t visited her in a while and the guilt was gnawing at me.
The first day was brutal. Hotch made some of us go back to the hotel late at night, but it was hard for us to sleep. JJ hated working cases about children, so she went to have a quick drink at the hotel bar, where she promptly forgot her purse and had to call me from her room to go get it for her. I had no hope of getting any rest that night, so I figured I’d take a walk down the hall and try to clear my head. 
There was no sign of the purse at first glance, no small black clutch on the bar like JJ said. But there was a woman cleaning glasses behind the counter, maybe she knew where the purse was.
As I approached the bar, the woman’s features took a familiar shape and triggered a distant memory. Seeing her face again was like coming home after a long drive without a map, squinting through the dark and hoping the headlights would get brighter when finally, you’re pulling onto a road that you know by heart. 
I didn’t need to look at her nametag, I already knew who she was, but judging by her polite smile borne solely out of the courtesy required to work in the service industry, she didn’t recognize me. In her defense, I had grown about a foot and a half since the last time she saw me. And I got a freaking haircut. 
“Y-Y/N?” 
She looked up from her rags and scrunched up her face in confusion.
“Okay, so you definitely know me, and I am so sorry about this, but I can’t quite place it. You look so familiar, though, I just… I meet a lot of people with this job, I’m so sorry, I forgot your name.”
I grinned, she still had that same habit of apologizing every five seconds, “I don’t really have that problem, eidetic memory and all.”
Her eyes widened, “Spencer? Spencer Reid!”
I laughed and nodded.
“You’re so tall now! What has it been, like, 10 years? Oh my goodness, come here.” She awkwardly leaned over the bar and hugged me. She still used the same shampoo. 
“How ya been, kid?”
“I’m good! H-How are you?”
“Doing fine, thanks. What brings you back to good ol’ Sin City?”
“I’m here for work.”
“Oh, and what are you doing now?” She leaned on the counter and gazed up with curious eyes, “Helping the doctors at Area 51?”
Good to know she still had jokes, “No actually, I’m with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.”
“Woah, you’re a fed now?”
“Yeah, we’re investigating a series of--”
“Kidnappings. Yeah. Scary shit. Can I get you a drink?”
“No, I’m good.”
“You close to catching the guy?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
“Any of the kids turn up?”
“Unfortunately, yes. We found one boy this morning. He… didn’t make it.”
Her face dropped to a look of worry I hadn’t seen since she took off my blindfold that day on the football field, “Name. I need a name,” her voice grew hoarse.
“I can’t really disclose that information.”
“Spencer, please. Every day my kid comes home from school and asks me if I was watching the news.”
I couldn’t deny the way my heart sank at the news, but I could sure as hell ignore it, “Y-You have kids?”
“One. Little Jamie. His best friend, Robbie, is missing.” Robbie Carter, age five, he’s been missing for the past two weeks. He’s likely dead, but we still haven’t found him.
“Every time someone misses school he gets scared they got taken too. Baby Boy doesn’t understand flu season yet.”
“How old is he?” I had to get her mind off of this. I don’t want to worry her.
“Five. Just started kindergarten. Wanna see a picture?” Seems like I succeeded. 
“Sure.”
She whipped out her phone and pulled up a picture of Jamie on his first day of school, backpack far too big for his body. Y/N was posed next to him, the picture too small to show that she was crying ever so slightly.
“Adorable, right?”
I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face, “Cute kid. Looks just like you.”
She looked back at the photo and smiled softly, “Except the eyes. He’s got his dad’s eyes.”
I glanced down at her hand holding the phone and was greeted with a pleasant surprise, “I’m guessing Jamie’s dad isn’t in the picture?”
Offense flickered across her features for a second, her eyebrows twitching and lips pursing, “How’d you know?”
“No ring.”
“You do work for the FBI.”
“Would you mind telling me what happened?”
“You know, you’re supposed to be the one spilling your sorrows to the bartender, not the other way around.”
“You don’t have to tell me, just thought we could catch up, I haven’t seen you in ten years.”
She sighed, returning her phone to the front pocket in her apron, “Remember Kyle Brothers?”
“Oh, do I? Yeah, of course, I remember your high school boyfriend, Y/N. What tipped you off, the eidetic memory, or the fact he used to beat me up after gym class?” It was more like the intense rage and jealousy I had when they got back together after football season ended.
“God, see, I always knew he was an asshole, but it never seemed to faze me, I’m so sorry about that.”
“You did what you could. And you apologize too much.”
“Sor--”
She froze mid-word and made a face as she realized once again that she was about to apologize yet again. I stifled a chuckle, but she laughed and grabbed a rag from the counter to finish cleaning the glasses.
“So Kyle?”
“Yes, Kyle. We broke up again before college, I was going out of state and didn’t wanna do long distance, you know all that. I was in a really bad place during my senior year of college, so after graduation, I decided to move back home for a bit, spend some time with my mom--”
“How is she?”
“She’s great! Moved to D.C. with my dad a while back.”
“I should visit her, Quantico isn’t far.” 
She returned a genuine smile, “She would love that.”
“Sorry I interrupted you, keep going.”
“You’re fine. Long story short, moving back home for a few months turned into having a one night stand with my ex. Which turned into us getting engaged nine months later while I’m exhausted and holding my son.”
“Well, that’s a fun birth story for Jamie.”
“Yeah, ‘Happy Birthday, sweetie, your father proposed to me while you were, like, an hour old and then cheated on me six months later.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.” She popped the p, “Came home and heard two things: Jamie fussing in his sleep from the playpen and bedsprings squeaking in our room.”
“I’m guessing that you guys were done for good after that?”
“Nice detective work.”
“Technically, I’m a profiler, not a detective, as they typically work in local police departments and I work for the federal government, not a precinct--”
“Jesus, kid, you’re gonna put the poor lil lady to sleep,” I turned around and saw Morgan crossing the lobby to the bar, still in his work clothes.
“If I'm yawning it’s from my double shift, not his rambling. It’s been a while since I heard a good Spencer Reid knowledge dump.”
“You two know each other?” He leaned on the bar and I could sense him turning on the classic Derek Morgan charm.
“I could ask you the same question.”
“Uh, Y/N, this is SSA Derek Morgan, we work together, Morgan, this is Y/N L/N, we went to high school together.” The “I had a huge crush on her” was silent.
“Nice to meet you, doll,” he reached out a hand to shake yours. His eyes lingered on you for a bit too long, and I recognized the look in her eyes from the way she talked to Kyle in the halls before our study sessions, and I didn’t like any of that one bit.
Derek turned back to me, “JJ sent you down here a while ago, she’s looking for you.”
I glanced at Y/N and tried to hide the cocktail of emotions in my mind, “I guess I just lost track of time.”
He probably caught onto something because his regular teasing smirk flashed on across his face, “You guess, sure, loverboy, I’ll be in our room. Nice meeting you, Y/N.” He left and she waved, watching him as he left.
“JJ?” She asked, turning back to me.
“Coworker of mine, she left her purse down here and sent me to get it for her.”
“Oh, Blondie from earlier?”
“Yeah.”
“She seemed nice. So pretty!” She reached below the bar and pulled out the small black purse that was left behind about an hour before, holding it up to me and cocking an eyebrow.
“Yep.” 
“How long have you two been working together? Long enough to be more than coworkers?”
I laughed uncomfortably, “Uh, n-no, actually this is actually my first case on the field, before this I only really helped the team consult on cases, but this one was urgent and I wanted to visit my mom so they brought me along.”
“Well, send Diana my love.”
“Of course. And if you hear anything from Jamie about another missing kid, give us a call.” I reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, sliding it to her and leaving with a sympathetic smile, wishing I could say more.
              (Reader POV)
About a week after you ran into Spencer, you were closely following the story as it unfolded on the news. Another kid had gone missing, the second in two weeks. His name was Drew Olson, he was a year older than Jamie. They didn’t find a body yet, so there was still hope. Robbie hadn’t turned up either, which was the best news you had about him. No other bodies have shown up yet, and the cause of death for the boy they found was starvation, so the guy probably didn’t want to hurt these kids.
Regardless of whether or not the situation was actually dangerous, the school still increased security, since two of the victims were students. The pickup line was heavily monitored by teachers and faculty to make sure all students went home with their parents. You had gotten there a bit later than usual, forcing you to the back of the crowd where you couldn’t see the kids as they came out of the building. 
When you finally got up towards the front, there were only a handful of kids left.
And Jamie wasn’t one of them.
Panic started to twist your stomach into knots, but the rational part of your brain clawed at the inside of your skull saying he was just inside, he was waiting in a classroom, he was safe.
You pushed through to the teacher that was keeping track of names on her clipboard. She was younger, just about your age, and wore wire-framed glasses that complimented her dark braids. She gave a warm smile and asked for your child’s name.
“Brothers, Jamie Brothers.”
“Alrighty, let’s see--” she paused as her finger stopped over a name highlighted by a bright green, indicating that the child had been picked up: Jamie Brothers.
“He’s not here.”
“What? What do you mean he’s not here?” The part of your brain that said he was safe fucked right off and left you a shaking mess on the pavement. The teacher reached an arm out and held you by the elbow as your knees buckled beneath you. Other parents’ attention was suddenly directed towards you. 
“Ma’am, the sheet says he was picked up already.”
“But by who? Not me! So who the hell took my son?” All eyes were on you as you didn’t even bother to control the volume of your voice. 
“Mrs. Brothers, please remain calm, I’m sure there’s been a mistake, I can send someone in to find him inside the school.”
“Please…” You whimpered, unable to find your breath.
...Give us a call…
Spencer’s words echoed in your mind and you knew what you had to do, so you scrambled through your bag for the card you were given the week before. You frantically cursed under your breath as you searched for your wallet. You finally found it, taking it out with your phone so you could call the number on the card. It rang once, twice, three times before an unfamiliar voice crackled through on the other side. 
“Agent Hotchner.”
“Are you with the FBI?”
“...Yes, who is this?”
“My name is Y/N L/N, Spencer Reid gave me this number if I knew anything.”
“Do you have information regarding the recent abductions?”
“My son’s been taken.” You could feel the lump in your throat nearly restricting any words from coming out.
“Hold on, ma’am, where are you?”
“I’m at the school, he’s not here. I came to get him and he’s not here, I don’t know what to do!”
“Miss L/N, stay put, we’re on our way.” The call ended with a click and suddenly the world went quiet. There was nothing but the rush of blood pounding in your ears. All you could do was stare blankly at nothing in particular as the phone fell from your hand, hitting the pavement, your knees following quickly behind. You felt the bruises on impact, but you couldn’t care less about how much pain you were in, not when you felt this numb. Your pain didn’t matter anymore, all that mattered was that Jamie was missing and you were powerless to help. The remaining parents surrounded you, all clutching the shoulders of their children, their safe children, the ones they didn’t have to call the fucking FBI to pick up from school today.
When your brain was able to process information again, you noticed the school parking lot had filled with police cars, including two large black SUVs. You squinted through the inappropriately bright sunlight and the bitter tears in your eyes to see a tall man in a dark suit approach you. Behind him, a scrawny young man in a plaid buttondown was following closely.
You recognized him right away this time.
“Spencer,” your voice was barely a whisper as you attempted to stand on your shaking legs. You looked straight past the man in the suit and scrambled over to him. Before you could even reach him, his arms were stretched out to you, enveloping you in a tight hug as soon as you were close enough.
Your heart had to be beating out of your chest, and you were sure he felt it against him. The tears running down your cheeks stained his shirt, soaking him to the skin as he cradled your head against his chest, trying to do whatever he could to make you feel safe again, no matter how scared he was.
The man in the suit was now joined by an older man in a brown jacket and the man you met at the bar the other night, Derek, you think his name was. The suit turned to you and Spencer and introduced himself as Agent Hotchner, the man you spoke to on the phone. He asked you to describe what happened when you arrived, if you saw anyone who looked out of place, if you saw evidence of a struggle. Spencer’s arms never left your frame the whole time you spoke.
“Thank you very much, Miss L/N, I promise we’ll find your son, we have time on our side. Reid, stay with her in the meantime, Morgan, go question the parents, Gideon and I will talk to the monitors and see if they knew who picked Jamie was picked up by.”
“Yes, sir.”
All the men left to complete their tasks except for Spencer, who was supposed to stay put with you. The second you were alone with him once again, your face returned to the spot on his dampened shirt where it had previously been. One of his hands was planted firmly on your upper back, the other stroking your hair between his fingers.
It’s strange, really. Last time you saw him he was just a kid. A brilliant, sweet, small kid. The kid who’s hair you’d fuck with. The kid you held after his bullies hurt him. Then you don’t see him for over a decade and suddenly the roles are reversed. He was tall enough to rest his chin on your head now, which you had mixed feelings about, but you couldn’t deny it calmed you down. Almost as much as his quick yet steady heartbeat drumming right in your ear. The kid was still skinny, but his hugs were still warm. 
“You’re alright, we’re gonna find him,” he whispered into your hair, but you had a feeling those words weren’t only for you. After a few minutes, the three other agents returned to where you and Spencer stood, alerting the two of you that the team would be heading back to the police station where you were welcome to wait with them. Derek figured you were too shaken to drive yourself, so he offered to let you ride along with him and Spencer in the SUV, which you did not hesitate to accept.
Once at the station, you were greeted by the blonde from the bar. What was her name again?
“Jennifer Jareau, I’m the press liaison for the team. You can call me JJ.”
She sat with you while Spencer worked with the others on the case. You wanted to be updated whenever progress was made, but she told you that wasn’t totally possible. Regardless of how against the rules it was, she still gave you the profile. The unsub likely worked with children and knew them and faculty well enough to enter the building and take the kids without being noticed. They may be a parent going through a loss, as no evidence of sexual assault or any physical violence was found on the only body save for light ligature marks on the wrists. Due to the relatively nonviolent nature of the crime, the unsub could be a woman. They likely live alone since they are keeping several young boys in their home. Although this likely wasn’t the work of a pedophile, a trafficking ring could not be ruled out yet.
You suddenly understood why the victims’ families aren’t supposed to know the profile. You thought it would make you feel better, but it only made you feel worse. JJ opened up another box of tissues for you, got you water, and offered you snacks, but there was no way you could get anything down. Every sound, every person that passed the window, every buzz of JJ’s phone sent your stomach plummeting down a death drop. You had just calmed yourself down from yet another panic attack when you saw agents strapping on kevlar vests and putting their guns into their holsters.
They knew where the kids were.
              (Spencer’s POV)
I wasn’t allowed to see her before we left. I couldn’t tell her where I was going, I couldn’t tell her that Jamie would be okay, I couldn’t tell her anything. I barely spoke to her since we got back to the station, and that was hours ago. Now I-- we just have to leave her there again.
This was my first time going out on the field in this capacity. I’d never had to step out of that SUV with my gun out, ready to shoot anyone who threatened the lives of my team or any hostages they may have. I’d never had to strap on a kevlar vest and worry about the potential bruises that may be left behind by being hit with bullets. I’d never had to worry about not coming back before.
“Don’t be worried. If your hands shake you won’t get a clear shot,” Gideon reminded me in the car, as if I’d be able to get a clear shot with a steady hand anyway.
The unsub was a woman named Harriet Yanonovich. According to hospital records pulled by Garcia, our new tech analyst, her son had recently passed after a short and sudden battle against leukemia. This came shortly after Harriet had a miscarriage that triggered a chemical imbalance, degrading her mental health, which resulted in the trigger, losing her job at the elementary school that the boys had each been taken from. I would have felt bad for her if she hadn’t taken my friend’s son away from her.
But she did, and now I just have to hope she didn’t hurt him.
We arrived at Harriet’s house fairly quickly. Hotch sent Morgan and me around the back, he and Gideon would take the front. As we rounded the back of the house, we discovered that she had a storm cellar under her deck. The doors were closed with a heavy padlock. Morgan aimed his gun to shoot it off the chain.
“Don’t do that. The bullet would ricochet and hit you in the knee.”
He lowered his weapon, “You got a better idea, pretty boy?”
“Yes, actually.” I quietly crept onto the deck, lifting the welcome mat from in front of the sliding glass door into the absolute wreck of a kitchen. Under the mat was a simple looking key. 
“She’s a school teacher going through a depressive episode, not a criminal mastermind.”
“Alright then, genius,” he rolled his eyes, “Let’s see if it even works.”
I inserted the key into the lock, hearing a click and turning it with little difficulty. The shackle popped open. I gently removed it from the chains, trying my hardest not to make any noise that would alarm anyone in the cellar. Unwrapping the chains from the handles, I turned back to face Morgan.
“I accept your apology.” I attempted to muster my smuggest smile, but it was hard to mask the dread and worry on my face.
“Yeah, yeah, open up.”
He grabbed one handle and I grabbed the other, sliding the metal doors open and revealing a staircase into a shadowy basement.
“You first.” Morgan nudged my shoulder.
“What? No way! Morgan, this is serious!”
“So go! It’s your girl’s kid!”
He was right. Not about Y/N being my girl, because she wasn’t (though the thought did briefly replace the anxiety in my heart with pure light that I hadn’t felt since I was twelve), but I was still doing this for her. This case wasn’t just a job for me. This was for Y/N. For Jamie. Y/N deserves to see her son again, I owe her that much.
Derek would learn about my fear of the dark much later, but from how fast I jumped down those stairs into that cellar, he’d never been able to tell.
Against the farthest wall, there were four young boys all curled up in a corner. From the limited light, I could see they were all covered in varying levels of filth, the cleanest boy baring the face I had seen on Y/N’s phone screen. The boys all looked terrified, the two dirtiest looking thin and weak against the ties that bound them to a water pipe. I called up to Morgan to come down and lowered my gun.
“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI, I’m here to help you guys, okay?” The boys all nodded. Morgan helped me untie their wrists.
“Do you know where Mrs. Yanonovich went?”
“She said she was going upstairs, and that we have to be good or else we wouldn’t get any supper,” Jamie piped up.
“How long you been down here, kid?” Morgan asked.
Jamie shrugged, “Couple hours.”
“Did she hurt any of you?” The kids all shook their heads no.
Hotch’s voice crackled over the radio, “We have her in custody, any sign of the kids?”
“Yep, we found them in the cellar. All are alive, but we may need a medic on standby at the station for some of them.”
“Are they hurt?”
“No, just malnourished. Definitely dehydrated.”
Morgan and I led the kids out to the surface, the setting sun creating a glare off of the tin cellar doors. We were greeted by Gideon and police rounding the corner to the backyard. The kids ran out the gate towards the police cars, eager to be home soon. 
               (Reader POV)
“Okay, I’ll let them know.” JJ hung up and turned back to you, a relieved smile gracing her face. You stood up, desperate to hear the news she had.
“They found the kids, Jamie’s safe.”
You couldn’t stop yourself from lunging at the woman you barely knew, wrapping her in a bear hug as delighted laughs left your lungs. You felt tears of pure relief drip down your cheeks as she squeezed you back, also letting out a deep sigh.
You waited impatiently in the bullpen, anxious to see Jamie unharmed and to give the team your gratitude. When they finally arrived, you saw your son walking hand-in-hand with Spencer and the older agent you believed was named Gideon. Spencer pointed over to you with his free hand and smiled, causing Jamie to drop their hands and sprint into your arms crying “Mommy! Mommy!” You immediately lifted him up and covered his face with kisses. The two of you held onto one another so tight, you were surprised either of you could breathe. Spencer came over to you, smiling with eyes you couldn’t quite recognize. 
“Thank you, Spencer.”
“No need, Y/N. I’m glad I could help. I just wish I could have met Jamie here on better terms!”
You adjusted your hold on Jaime to free one hand, stretching it out for Spencer to take it in his own. You squeezed it gently, smiling into those hazel eyes that had somehow never looked warmer before, despite the deep shadows under them.
“Thank you.”
His pursed lips twitched slightly and you noticed the tears brimming his sunken eyes. The poor boy needed sleep and a lot of it soon. He squeezed your hand back, sending shockwaves up your arms straight to your heart, which hadn’t felt this light since you were seventeen years old.
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fuchsiagrasshopper · 4 years
Text
Contending the Flame VII
Author's Note: Not much to say here, but the story's content will start to go up in rating after this, so prepare yourself for some wild changes coming! Thanks as always for being such a fantastic audience :)
Masterlist
Pairing: Ivar x Reader
Word count: 2336
Warnings: language, mentions of blood, master/servant dynamic
Victory had been claimed for the sons of Ragnar. They managed to secure their hold over York, banishing the idea from the Saxons' minds that they could ever again rule the city. Hostages had been taken, and through the blood and the rain, they had seen themselves suffer their share of wounds. All battles came with a price.
Ivar had acquired his injuries, most being from arrows. After he had been tended to by healers and cleansed of blood, the damage had taken its toll and the pain had set in. He was carried to his chambers by Ubbe and another warrior. Hvitserk had not been able to lend a hand as he had sustained a spear to the leg. When first brought the news of his brother's injury, Ivar had felt a stirring of worry, and hatred towards the dead Saxon soldier. For a moment he had wished for Hel to raise the dead once more if it meant he could feed the Christian his axe. He did not want to lose another member of his family, not after his mother or even Sigurd.
The pains of war felt like a bizarre punishment after the glorious charge he had led. His body betrayed him, reminding him of his humility as a cripple once the agony of his legs joined with the burning of his battle wounds. He remembered little of the healers prodding at him and had fallen into a restless sleep, halfway between consciousness and oblivion. 
When he came around again, he was roused by the smell of flowers in the dead of night. A fire was burning low in the hearth, and as he turned his head towards the table at his side, a clay vase had been filled with those familiar purple blooms. They had a delicate, sweet smell, the likes of which he had never seen around Kattegat. The harsh winters of home were something he doubted they could have withstood. 
Ivar shifted carefully, trying to sit up when he took notice of the dip in the bed beside him. You were above the furs, sitting upright with your back against the wall at the head of the bed. Ólaug, or Catherine; he wasn't certain what to call you. You must have meant to sit down only for a moment but had fallen asleep instead. His eyes traced over the restful look on your face, a pleasant change from the terror that had been there the last time.
Remembering everything Hvitserk had told him, he was brought back to a state of frustration. He didn't want your fear, he wanted your admiration. You had passion when you spoke with him, something that had been driven out by this treacherous spy.
Ivar brought his attention back to his sleeping nun, taking in the rest of you. His gaze was drawn to the particular detail of your exposed calf. Your frock had ridden up to your knee, leaving your lower leg open to the air. He often found himself mesmerized by the beauty of women's legs, admitting only to himself that it was because of his disgust for his own. The smooth curve of your calf met a delicate ankle, that extended to a long, narrow foot. 
He wanted to feel the heat of your soft skin, and there was no battle with temptation as he brought his hand towards the exposed flesh. His rough knuckles dragged down on your smooth skin like hail against a silk sheet. The sensation was heady, and the walls of the room felt closer from the rush of lust. Ivar was emboldened. He wrapped his hand around your ankle, forgetting from your time as his thrall that you were a light sleeper.
Your head that had been tucked into your chest jerked up, and you lurched forward, startled awake by his hand. Your eyes met and Ivar could see the same fear there that took hold of an animal before it was about to bolt away. He wasn't going to tolerate that. In no mood or condition to chase you, Ivar tightened his hold on your ankle and tugged you down on the bed with harsh force. You let out a sharp gasp, unable to collect yourself before he had you trapped below him. Everything hurt, but he struggled through the discomfort as he held himself up by his arms above you.
"I did not invite you to share my bed, Christian."
"My apologies," You sputtered. "I'm only here because your brothers do not know which slaves they can trust."
Ivar let out a huff of annoyance, unadjusted to his brothers' concerns for his well-being. It was behaviour he had come to expect from his mother, and maybe Floki. "Right, a spy who is a threat to my life, and whispers in your ear."
Your eyes that had been downcast returned to his face. "Hvitserk told you?"
"My brothers tell me everything. You were mistaken to think otherwise."
He reached for your arm between them, the one covered with the cloth bandage. You were quick to snatch it away, your face coloured in shame. Ivar brought his hand up to your cheek instead, stroking below the bruise that he had yet to get a full explanation. "Stop that, please," You whispered. 
"You believe I'll hurt you, even after I've shown to be generous towards you."
"But I am only a slave, and I mean nothing to you. If you killed your brother, what chance do I have of being spared?"
Ivar frowned. It seemed the spy had filled you in on more than just the Bishop. "You know about Sigurd?"
 You nodded. "I know you murdered him, like Cain slew Abel."
He did not know of these men for whom you spoke of, but he had the unfortunate feeling that the comparison was not of flattery. Now that you knew things about him that he would not have shared likely, he felt at a disadvantage. He eased away from you, only for you to let out a cry of surprise as he pulled back.
"Ivar," You exclaimed, shoving your palm at the center of his chest so he would lie back down.
He spotted or rather felt what you had seen. It seemed one of his wounds had opened up on his side, the blood leaving a cold, damp stain on his tunic. You leapt up and over him, setting to work on filling a bowl with water. Your fast pace that you had set was dizzying. Ivar watched as you opened up the leather pouch that had been abandoned on the table until now. It contained healing supplies. Your lack of hesitation for what you grabbed proved you were capable, and you were back at his side without pause.
"Off with this, please," You instructed him to shed his tunic, and you had water touching skin the moment he had discarded the soiled clothing. "Look what you've done."
Ivar had never seen you look so disapproving. It was endearing. That you had scolded him by name had not slipped past his notice. "Ivar?"
You paused long enough in your work for your eyes to widen with understanding. "Oh, forgive me. I should not have been so bold."
He turned more towards you while you continued to work, giving a small shrug in response. "It is my name, and I am no longer your master. Perhaps you should cease with formalities."
"No, it wouldn't be proper. You are still a Prince, and leader of an army."
"Then I must insist on calling you Ólaug." 
He let out a hiss as you took the needle to his skin, halting only a moment to let him adjust to the discomfort before moving to close the wound. You shot him a small smile, and he grunted from time to time with each passing of the point through his flesh. 
"But that's not my name," You insisted as you tied off the end of the stitch, cutting away the remainder of the loose thread with a small knife.
"And it isn't Catharine," Ivar shot back. "So tell me, who are you?"
You sat back on your chair, resting your hands in your lap. They were pink and red from his blood, with dark grime under your short nails. A healer's hands. His own were rough and stained with blood, but from taking lives, not saving them.
"Why is my old name so important? This is the second time you've asked it from me."
"I've never known someone to abandon their name. Your God asks strange things of you."
"As I'm sure yours do as well," You said with no unkindness in your tone. "May I ask about the markings on your back?"
"Your men do not have tattoos?"
You shook your head, eyes wide and full of curiosity. "The body is meant to be untainted, and we should be satisfied with what God gave us."
And yet they made women cut their hair before entering a nunnery. Ivar did not say as much. You were finally allowing your guard to slip, falling back into another one of your conversations that he'd missed. 
"We do not read or write in books as you do, but we preserve our stories in runes and symbols. Tattoos are just another way to honour the Gods."
"Did they hurt?"
Ivar let out a gruff laugh. "I was born into suffering. I hardly remember what it felt like to have the colours bleed under my skin. But any sacrifice to the Gods is a privilege, be it in pain, or a life."
"I don't understand how your gods could demand the life of their people," You said, a distraught look falling over you.
"And I don't understand why you Christians nail your people up on crosses."
"It is an act of punishment and humiliation for the criminal. It should dissuade others from committing the same sins."
Ivar smirked. "But we're the savages?"
"I don't claim to be a delegate for all Christians, but I don't believe you are savages. I sometimes think we are similar."
Viking and Christian alike; impossible. "You are naive to think that."
"Maybe so," You said, coming to a stand as you started to clean up your supplies. "But this fighting for York could have been prevented if the King had settled on negotiations with you and your brothers. Our holy Father blessed us all with free will, and we chose to fight and kill, just as your people have."
"A war is a strange place to search for peace," He retorted.
You let a chuckle escape, turning to him with a face flooded in pink. It was beautiful. "Indeed."
There was a prolonged stretch of silence, neither one of them filling it until you returned to sit at the foot of the bed. Ivar liked to think you were comfortable enough in his presence for the moment that you had not felt the need to fill it with empty words.
"Is peace what you want for your people?" He prodded while shifting underneath the furs.
"I'm not in a position to speak on such matters as this is the most exposure I've seen of battle. I suppose peace is better than tending to bloody men, and women waiting at home for husbands and sons who will never return."
"And what about you? If you could wish for anything in this world, what would it be?"
Your face turned to weariness, and for a moment he suspected he had offended you. He would have offered to take the words back if it would have helped, but you chose to answer.
"I wish I was happy," You said in a voice so low that Ivar had almost missed what you had said. But he had heard, to which he frowned in confusion. "You thought I would ask for freedom?"
"Isn't that what all those in enslavement hope for?" He rebuked. 
"Before I was captured by you heathens, I was still a prisoner. This is just a different cage."
"I thought being a nun was an honour?" He couldn't help but sneer the words, but you did not appear dismayed.
"When I joined the convent, it was for a sense of duty. It brought me contentment, but there was no joy in my days." 
You brought your legs up onto the furs, settling in without regard of whom you were close to. Ivar was pleased by your unintentional behaviour, mesmerized by your fingers as you trailed them through the thick pelted covers.
"I don't understand," He spoke up eventually, long enough to break his concentration on your stroking of the furs.
"Of course you don't. You are a man, a Viking, and a prince. Your life was marked with freedom of choice the moment you drew breath. If I was granted freedom this very moment, where would I go?"
'With me', he thought but did not say the petulant thought aloud. If it was happiness you desired, then he would give it to you.
"I've intruded on you long enough. Would you like me to leave?" You enquired,  moving to stand.
"No, stay," he commanded without thinking, and the harshness of his voice caused you to flinch. Taking a quick breath through his nose, he tried again. "Tell me about Cain and Abel."
You eased back onto the bed, choosing to stay out of arm's reach as you delved into your tale. Ivar listened, enraptured by the passion that took over you in the telling. His own heart was beating with a different excitement, and he wondered how much longer he could keep his adoration from you. You were a Christian disguised in heavy frocks and gaudy crosses, but beneath all of that lurked a free woman longing to burst forth, and Ivar was going to draw her out.
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c-is-for-circinate · 4 years
Text
I’m not good at violence.
I think I used to be.  I was raised to it; I’m a white woman, and I grew up with privilege and with trauma, and none of that makes me special but it does mean I have the capacity to cause harm to others.  I know violence.  I hate seeing it in other people.  I hate seeing it in myself.
And here is a fact: the violence coming from protestors and rioters right now is justified.  The violence happening right now has every chance of being effective.  This post is a really excellent breakdown of riots, both as an effective means of driving social change, and a valid and justified expression of the well-deserved rage of a community.  I support the anger and the violence that is happening right now.
But.  But I freeze, when I’m around it, when I see it directed at people around me, when I’m asked to be a part of it.  I’ve spent so many years trying to stop myself from lashing out that now it cuts the legs right out from under me.  Whether it’s the physical violence of a riot just down the block from my living room windows, or the verbal violence of one friend eviscerating another for daring to be worried about a brother and friends on the police force--I can’t do it.  I can’t help wanting to defuse it.  I can’t help freezing and wanting to run away.
Is it privilege, that I get to say no to violence in this case?  Yes, yes it absolutely is.  Everybody should have that privilege.  That’s the point of all of this in the first place.  And if I used that privilege to just sit down and hide from all of this, and do nothing, and say nothing, except “I’m not good at violence so I’m excused,” well--would that be as evil as all the sins that started this in the first place?  Of course not.  But it wouldn’t be good, either.
So the question is, what can I do?  If now is the time when decent people are called upon to act, what action can I take that will actually help?  Is there a place, in this moment of history that seems to be crying out for a violent response, to be non-violent and still help?
Of course there is.  There always is.  Not because nonviolence is the True, Correct Way (fuck that, sometimes violence is called for, and this is one of them), but because it is always most effective to go after a goal with a multi-pronged approach.  It’s not about how I turn myself into a sword.  It’s about figuring out what other skills I can bring to bear, and using them effectively.
For me, my number one skill, the thing I make my bread and butter on, the thing I can do right now is: I can talk.
I can talk to the people in charge.  I have government representatives on so many levels. Yes, I can write to my senator, to my House of Representatives congressperson, to my state governor--but I can also think small.  My city runs on its city council.  The representative for my district has an office half a mile from my apartment; I go in there a couple of times a year for parking passes.  He’s not a scary, distant stranger.  I can email him.  And once I’ve done that, if I move on to emailing the mayor, the county commissioner, the state legislature, and up and up and on up the chain, that’s great--but starting local is easy, and in so many ways, it’s the most important thing to do right now.  The woman in Washington is trying to save the whole country, but the man in the community garden down the block has the power to do something about rubber bullets and tear gas right now.
I can talk to the people who disagree.  I can talk to them with patience, and kindness, and understanding that other activists may not have the time or emotional wherewithal for.  My mom wants everybody to be safe and happy, and only sees riots as violence and danger.  My friend loves her brother, the cop, and refuses to go along with any absolutist anti-police rhetoric.  They are both (as all humans are) wrong about some things and right about others.  They’re wrong about whether these riots should happen, but they’re not wrong to be scared.  Ultimately, maybe they don’t matter--maybe they deserve to be denounced and shouted at, maybe they deserve violence--but I love them, and I’d rather have them for allies than enemies.  I can embrace patience.  I can validate their fears and the truths they know, and share with them the truths that I know: that the world is very scary right now, and that’s why demanding reform is so important.  That police officers aren’t fundamentally evil, they’re human, but humans can cause harm even by inaction, even by good intentions.  That riots and absolutism are violence.  That sometimes, violence should happen.
I can talk to the people who don’t know what’s going on.  I am a teacher.  Even now, in the middle of a quarantine, teaching composition and trigonometry over Zoom in one-on-one tutoring sessions with kids still wearing pyjamas, I’m a teacher.  And my students are young, and confused, and scared, because they don’t know what’s right or wrong but they know that the world is angry.  I can listen to them.  I can be calm, and gentle, and protect them from my own cynicism, because loading young children down with the whole weight of the world is violence, and it most hurts those who can’t fight back.  I can help them work through the things they don’t understand.
I can talk to other people in my same position.  I can write this post.  I can talk to my students and my mom and my other friends, who want to support black communities and protesters and the course of social justice.  I can remind people who hate and fear violence that some violence is necessary, and I can help them find ways to contribute if they are as bad at it as I am.  I can help steer them away from lashing out in fear and confusion at the very protesters and victims and social justice warriors they want to help.  I can patch them up and help them get working again, when the broadsword of “ZERO TOLERANCE” and “IF YOU’RE NOT WITH US, YOU’RE AGAINST US” accidentally catches them on the backswing.
Of course, not everybody’s a talker!  And talking, like violence, isn’t ever the one-size-fits-all solution to an entire problem either.  You may have to think through your own skills to find a good way to contribute, but there are a few additional things that I know I can also do, and they may be a good start:
I can provide literal, physical support.  Maybe this means donating money to bail funds and other BLM-related nonprofits.  Maybe this means getting masks and bottled water for protesters well before the protest starts.  Maybe it means setting up a space in the courtyard of my apartment building where protesters can seek safety if things go very bad two blocks away again.  Monetary donations are the most visible and obvious way we’ve been asked to contribute nonviolently, and they are important.  We can all watch an ad-supported donating YouTube stream.
I can help the people caught in the crossfire.  Whatever reason or justification these riots have, the accompanying looting is actively harming small black- and minority-owned businesses, including those in my neighborhood.  I can help sweep glass and board up windows.  I can bring coffee and doughnuts and ask my neighbors what they need to get back up on their feet.  I can help clean up the aftermath.
I can remember.  This is, as they always say, a marathon, not a sprint.  In a few weeks or a few months the active, visible, national news parts of this will be over, but the problems won’t be.  Some things may get fixed.  Some things won’t.  What do I do then?  Do I keep writing letters to my local representatives?  Do I go to community association meetings and community policing events, and ask awkward questions, and request accountability and reform in polite, measured, nonviolent, implacable, unrelenting ways when the time for outrage and shouting is over?  Do I look for the quiet, boring, nonviolent, tedious things that need to be done to help solve the problems of economic disparity that brought this about in the long run?  Now might not be the time for quiet, polite, and tedious--but it will come again.  There is always quiet, tedious work to be done, when the news crews and protesters go away.  I can make sure not to forget that.
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wetalkinboutbooks · 4 years
Text
New Year, New Review 🤩
A Sky Beyond the Storm by Sabaa Tahir
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Summary: The long-imprisoned jinn are on the attack, wreaking bloody havoc in villages and cities alike. But for the Nightbringer, vengeance on his human foes is just the beginning.
At his side, Commandant Keris Veturia declares herself Empress, and calls for the heads of any and all who defy her rule. At the top of the list? The Blood Shrike and her remaining family.
Laia of Serra, now allied with the Blood Shrike, struggles to recover from the loss of the two people most important to her. Determined to stop the approaching apocalypse, she throws herself into the destruction of the Nightbringer. In the process, she awakens an ancient power that could lead her to victory--or to an unimaginable doom.
And deep in the Waiting Place, the Soul Catcher seeks only to forget the life--and love--he left behind. Yet doing so means ignoring the trail of murder left by the Nightbringer and his jinn. To uphold his oath and protect the human world from the supernatural, the Soul Catcher must look beyond the borders of his own land. He must take on a mission that could save--or destroy--all that he knows. (Taken from Goodreads)
Our Ratings:  
 → Geena:  ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
 → Kae: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Overall: The final instalment of the Ember Quartet had us crying in the metaphorical club. It’s exciting, terrifying, and probably the horniest book in the series and we loved it!
~Spoiler-full discussion below~
The Good:
→ Elias and Laia
Geena: In the final instalment of the Ember quartet, Sabaa deprives us of an Elias POV and slaps us with the Soulcatcher instead… He’s very much an ‘emotions are bad’ type of dude, the opposite of Elias who always had so many… but both of them are so angsty? The Soulcatcher really likes to beat up trees when his memories from when he was Elias resurface which was so emo to me. Despite being possessed by Mauth he is also such a coward, especially around Laia, because Elias’ feelings for Laia scare him and every single time he is like *running emoji*. We were surprised that Sabaa let him remain the soulcatcher for so long, every chapter I was like ‘Okay, maybe this is where Elias breaks through…’ but no.. Elias remained buried UNTIL their night in the cabin… the Soulcatcher was like ‘k I’m out’ but ONLY for ONE NIGHT and that still makes me scream.. The Soulcatcher was like ‘you kids are too horny for me, I’m gonna take a nap for a bit and let Elias take over bc Jesus.’ 
Despite it all, the Soulcatcher’s chapters were enjoyable albeit painful because this man was so duty bound, like even Elias wasn’t that dedicated when he was a Mask. But near the end, when we finally get the chapter that starts with Elias…. Ngl I cried a little, and immediately wanted to reread the whole series (I feel like Sabaa did this on purpose to torture us). I want to fight Sabaa though, like she did an amazing job showing how Elias’ conscious and the Soulcatcher’s conscious were constantly fighting one another, and how Elias’ memories of the people he loved ultimately fuelled the Soulcatcher’s actions… even though the Soulcatcher was like ‘I’m doing this for the ghosts’ like okay… no ghost told you to keep protecting and kissing Laia but you still did it…  
Kae: Okay, so Geena summed up my boy Ilyaas pretty damn well. Also, we LOVE HIS ETHNIC NAME IN THIS HOUSE. But um, YES. Elias was a sad boy ™ the whole time while fighting his emotions and ultimately losing. It was so PAINFUL as a reader, seeing all of  his chapters except the ONE say ‘Soulcatcher’. But when it finally said ELIAS again, I too, started to cry. Because he was BACK. 
You can all thank the power of Laia’s determination to seduce Elias back to himself, because our girl was NOT giving up. She said ‘you gonna get this coochie, dammit’ and in the cabin, Elias was like ‘well i’ll be damned. I sure as hell am. I am BACK BAYBEEEEE’
Geena: Sabaa Tahir said horny rights like ksjdnfdsjknfsdk
Kae: AUFVAHLHVKJ. BUT YES. In the end, love won. And so did sex because everyone was doin it or TRYING to do it. I guess when the world is ending, you only get one last time to uhh…. Have a good time. So they made sure they did lmao 
Now, let’s get into Laia. 
Laia. My sweet little cupcake. My mug of tea with too much honey. This girl has been through literal hell and back, and yet, she kept going. She NEVER gave up. Laia woke up in book 4 like ‘Today i will commit crimes. Helene and I crave violence’ and they both just started kicking ASS and I LOVED THAT. I was really happy to see the progression of Laia and Helen’s friendship and how they genuinely grew to like one another and see each other as besties. They both deserved a girl friend and I’m glad they found a friendship within each other. 
Laia is the bravest character in this damn book. She went from poor scholar, to slave, to hero and she was brave because she had to be. Laia is strong and took on their entire world. She had help, but she did a lot of it alone and that takes some real guts. She is the most genuine, sweetest, bravest girl and I love her. <3 
Laia also single handedly brought the Ilyaas back from his Soulcatcher shit. During this whole book she was just like ‘You know what? I think I’mma go mess with Elias’ emo ass today to see if I can get him to kiss me or something’ THEN SHE PROCEEDED TO SHOW UP AT THIS MANS HOUSE (realm or whatever) BUTTASS NEKKID. And he saw her and immediately flew the hell out of there it was TOO MUCH and he LIKED IT but couldn’t admit it. 
Geena: You know what I love about that whole scene was like earlier she was like ‘He’s a lost cause idc’ and then Darin was like ‘Elias wouldn’t give up on you if that happened’ and Laia was like ‘you’re right, he would show up stark naked and try to seduce me back to my body’ and she did just that...
Kae: SHE DID. SHE SHOWED UP AND SHOWED OUT! Like, her entire mission was to bring Elias back while also planning on taking down the Nightbringer. But she was straight up like ‘okay but not before i get my man back through SEDUCTION’. Ugh, the mango scene?  Superb. 
Geena: Laia is hands down one of my favourite book characters to exist. Her journey from the first book being a scared girl with a missing brother, to being the face of a revolution… like the GROWTH. Like Kae mentioned, she and Helene end up as BESTIIEESSSS, and I was surprised at how natural they seemed. Because we went from them hating each other to close friends, but despite not seeing their development, it came off so natural? So, I loved that! 
Kae covered Laia’s character pretty thoroughly, she was both a horndog and a bad bitch. Like this girl has pretended to be a Slave for the Commandment to travelling a desert by herself and facing off a squad of Jinn… In retrospect, Laia is a unique case, she’s allowed to be kind and caring and doesn’t have to be a fighter type to be strong. She’s not the chosen one, which this book made clear, it could’ve been anyone to fight the Nightbringer… but only Laia was strong enough to love him AND defy him. And I just love her a lot… she was very much an anime protagonist with the power of love, family, and friendship… anyways I love her and that’s all I have to say
→ Helene 
Geena: The way I ended up liking and rooting for Helene this book? Came out of left field. To be honest, in previous books I didn’t feel much for her other than ‘stop chasing after Elias and Laia pls.’ But this book I wanted her to win, especially with the fight against the germanic-esque invaders. She goes through substantial development, no longer seeing Scholars as slaves and taking their opinions seriously.. Like Laia, Musa, and Darin were all a part of her crew. A stark difference from Book 1 Helene, who thought Scholars only had one role in the world and that was slaves. 
Helene… like Laia… really has the Ember equivalent of hot girl summer with Harper… all the time she spends denying it she is like *jumps on him the chance she gets*. The bath scene… Helene’s power was turning her tortuer into her MAN… But also Sabaa said that ‘yes she has changed, but she has to repent for her sins’ and that’s why Helene is basically left alone at the end (save for Laia, Elias, and Musa). 
Kae: So not gonna lie, I never actually disliked Helene. I saw her as the flawed character she was in the beginning. During her cat and mouse chase with Elias and Laia in the beginning, she would piss me OFF because like, that’s your BEST FRIEEEEEND. JUST STAAAAHP. But also, it was him or her and her family's death, so I get it. But I always saw potential in her to be better. And thank GOODNESS she went through all that character development. Because she was a damn menace in the beginning. 
Also like Geena mentioned; Helly and Harper finally hooking up? I swear the heavens opened up in that moment because EVERYONE could feel their tension. LIKE JUST DO IT ALREADY. You can’t fight love, baybeeee
Watching Helly grow as a person was really rewarding as a reader. Like Geena said, she went from hating scholars to being like ‘hmm, maybe my opinions are shitty?’ and straight up changed.  I also feel for her because she lost her ENTIRE family and like, honestly? I would’ve given up. BUT SHE DIDN’T. She’s a literal fighter, bred for this shit. So she FOUGHT. And I was really scared she was gonna get murked because y’all know Keris’ tiny evil ass doesn’t have a chill button. And when they were fighting? I was like LAWD PLS DON’T  TAKE HELLY. But instead he took Harper *upside down smiley face* SO THAT WAS FUCKED UP AND I WASN’T READY FOR IT. But a piece of me knew it was coming. 
The Bad:   
→ Darin and Harper
Geena: As Kae mentioned… Harper kicked the can in this book :’( His eventual fall came from loving and caring for Helene too much, which left him open and gave Keris the chance to stab him. Harper was basically Helene’s heart outside her body, and when he went down so did Helene. I had had a feeling when Book 3 ended that Harper wouldn’t make it, but I WASN’T HAPPY ABOUT BEING RIGHT FOR ONCE… Harper had finally met his brother (Elias) and hadn’t even had a chance to meet the real Elias and talk to him about their father or other sibling stuff. LIKE OF ALL CHARACTER DEATHS… AND THERE WAS A LOT… The other one that came out of left field was fucking Darin of Serra… DARIN… THE ONE DUDE WE SPENT TWO WHOLE BOOKS SAVING… DEAD WITH A SNAP OF HIS NECK!! I WAS SO MAD
LIKE SABAA HAD US THINKING HE WAS GONNA BE SAFE, SHE GAVE HIM A LIL GIRLFRIEND AND EVERYTHING BUT THEN SHE GOES.. AND KILLS HIM?? JUST LIKE THAT?? Then we had to read the scenes where Elias helps both Darin and Harper pass over into the afterlife and I was just *cries angrily* 
Kae: Well, THAT was sad. Have you ever just like, felt your heart break into a million tiny irreparable pieces? That’s how I felt when Darin and Harper died. Because like, they were both trying to save the women they loved. Darin to Laia, (foolishly so against the Nightbringer) but I would do it for my little sister too. And Harper with Helene against evilass Keris. Dude, that shit just sucked. It hurt to read. It hurt to imagine the girls feeling the pain of their deaths. They were both such good men. And DARIIIN. 
Darin didn’t have to go out like that, man. It was such a harsh death. No last words. It was just over and his body was just gone. I wish Laia would’ve been able to talk with him at The Waiting Place at least one last time. But it is what it is. I hated to see both of them go. Especially since Darin pretty much sparked this whole series. 
Sure, Laia, Helene, and Elias were the main characters. But Darin was the spark that started the fire. And he didn’t even get to see it’s flames extinguished. 
Geena: He was the ember in the ashes… literally like Sabaa uses that for Elias and Laia but it applies to Darin the most
Kae: LITCHRALLY gonna get teary eyed over here. Our boys deserved better :( 
Conclusion 
Geena: This was not at all a disappointing end to the series we’ve followed closely for so long. The different plot points and character arcs were tied up nicely, and Sabaa Tahir showed us once again why she’s one of the best fantasy writers on this side of the Milky Way. We didn’t even bother including a ‘The Ugly’ section because we loved it too much ksfmsd. The only qualm I’d have with the end was the empire remaining, Helene recognized the Scholars as equals but centuries of pain isn’t easily forgotten you know? SO THAT’S WHY I THINK WE DESERVE A SEQUEL SERIES… BUT I DIGRESS… OVERALL, I loved this book and the ending for all the characters ESPECIALLY FOR OUR GIRL LAIA <3
Kae: YES. I AGREE 100% WITH GEENA. It was such a beautiful end to the series. Sabaa is  GENIUS and her storytelling is phenomenal. I loved every little surprise she’s hidden in all of the books. ESPECIALLY WITH COOK BEING ALIVE? I DIDN’T SEE THAT SHIT COMING AT ALL. LIKE HOLY SHIT? So Laia had some remaining family afterall, and I think that’s very sweet. I’m really sad to see the series be over with and Geena and I are both *~HOPIIIING~* for an epilogue or some little crumbs or SOMETHING with the gang and how their lives ended up into middle adulthood or something. 
Geena: I would literally take a single paragraph… Ms. Tahir…. Blease…
Kae: But yes, in conclusion, Laia has a heart of gold and we LOVE HER. She’s brave and strong and smart, and was the only one out of THOUSANDS to stick for herself and defy the Nightbringer, and save the whole world. Helene has come a long way and she developed beautifully as a character. And Elias. Ohhh, Ilyaas. His continued self sacrifice and bravery and love still helped him live in the end and I think that’s beautiful. 
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bellemorte180 · 4 years
Text
Just Good Business
Caroline Salvatore, married into one of New York's most brutal crime families. Niklaus Mikaelson, a notorious mob boss who is hell bent on taking down the Slavatores.
It's an affair for the ages.
Written for Day 5 of Klarolin week- Smut.
Thank you, @klaroline-events!
She shouldn’t be doing this. She knew it was wrong, but she honestly didn’t care. She was a married woman and the man she was straddling in the back of his limo as it drifted down New York’s busy streets was most certainly not her husband. Granted, the life they all lived, what could be considered right anymore?
“Are you sure these windows are tinted?” Caroline hissed out, pushed down upon his clothed erection. It wasn’t the first time it happened. Her affair with New York’s most notorious mob boss began months ago. It started out as a power play for him and a way for her to try and feel something; anything. Neither one of them could have imagined that it would have become more than just sex for them. “Klaus?”
Niklaus Mikaelson, the most feared man in the entire city; one who ran not only drugs, weapons, and woman but had more blood on his hands than anyone else, was in love with her. It was an intoxicating feeling.
“I would never let us be seen, Sweetheart. Not yet at least.” Caroline smirked at him and kissed him hard; her teeth nipping at his bottom lip. Her hips rotated again, searching for some friction in order to relieve that pent-up tension she was feeling. It had been far too long since he had been able to touch her. It wasn’t easy for Caroline to sneak away in order to meet her lover, especially when she and her husband are well known in the city; that and in the last few months Stefan had been having her followed.
The marriage between Stefan and Caroline Salvatore was an arranged affair. They both came from very old families who wanted nothing more than an alliance. So, the corrupt Chief of Police married her only daughter to the brother of an even more corrupt "businessman". It did not take Caroline long to realize that her husband was dull, horrid in bed and was in love with his brother’s wife, Elena. Stefan looked at Caroline as nothing more than a possession and barely spoke to her.
Klaus’s finger tips traced up Caroline’s spine while her black backless dress bunched at her waist. His fingers sent shivers all over her body. When he went to lace his fingers through her impeccable up-do, Caroline stopped him.
“Not the hair. I can’t go home looking freshly fucked, now can I?” Caroline replied, nipping playfully at Klaus’s lips. “We still have to let Stefan think that I am his faithful and dutiful wife, don’t we?”
“I can have you widowed by morning, love. Just was the word.” Klaus replied, his hand slipping under her dress. His fingers graced her clit, her panties had been long forgotten on the limo’s floor. Caroline hissed out his name again. He added a slight pressure to that sensitive bundle of nerves just as his lips graced her throat. His tongue peeked out and licked her pulse point. “He would be dead and I could easily make you mine.”
“But your plans?” Caroline whimpered. Klaus slipped a finger inside of her and pumped lightly. Then he added a second finger before curling him, his nails scraping the side of her walls. His thumb touched her clitoris and began drawing circled on it while his fingers slowly fucked her.
“Fuck my plans.” Klaus hissed, his fingers pushed in roughly, causing Caroline to cry out. “I don’t like that he gets to touch you. I don’t like that he gets to fuck you when you’re mine. I want his head on a stick and my plans already changed once.”
It was true. When Klaus and Caroline started sleeping together, he was using her to get intel on the Salvatore family. He originally planned on revealing his affair with Caroline to Stefan in due time after getting everything he needed in order to take down Damon Salvatore. Caroline knew this and in truth she didn’t care. She hated her marriage and screwing over Stefan and Damon was enough for her; even if it meant getting herself killed.
However, when Klaus started falling for Caroline, he shifted his plans. He did not want to risk Stefan getting enraged that his wife was fucking his brother’s rival and killing her; they didn’t call Stefan the Ripper for nothing. So, they changed course.
“He hasn’t.” Caroline whimpered out, grinding down on Klaus’s fingers. He looked at her in question, a smirk playing upon his lips. “Stefan and I haven’t had sex in months, not since I caught him in bed with Elena.”
“Really?” Klaus hissed. He removed his fingers from her and Caroline cursed at him. He just grinned at her, bringing one finger to his lips and licked it clean before doing the same to the other. “You wouldn’t just be saying that so I will go easy on you, now would you?”
“No.” Caroline weaved her fingers through Klaus’s hair, gripped and pulled his head back. She looked down at him, peering into those pearly blue eyes she adored. He kissed him slowly, tasting her juices on his lips. “He said that he was glad I knew and that he didn’t have to pretend with me. He made his opinion very clear. Stay the pretty little wife on his arm while he fucked Damon’s behind closed doors. In return I get to keep my head upon my shoulders.”
“He threatened you.” That was unforgivable to Klaus. “The increase of bodyguards?”
“Just to ensure I don’t spend too much alone time with Damon. Can’t have his brother learning his dirty little secret.” Caroline tossed him a sinful smile and Klaus bucked his hips upward, rubbing roughly against her core. “Pity Enzo is employed by someone other than Stefan.”
“Good man Enzo.” Lorenzo St. John, Caroline’s personal bodyguard and double agent. Klaus hired him to infiltrate the Salvatore business. When he was assigned to guard Caroline, even better. The problem was that Enzo was only one of Caroline’s guards that was Klaus’s man; the rest where loyal to the Salvatore brothers. “And what are you and Enzo up to tonight?”
“Dress shopping.” Klaus chucked at that.
“Such a pretty dress.” His one hand running over the dress, touching her erect nipples through the silk. “It would be a shame if it got ruined.”
“Don’t you dare.”
Caroline ran her hands down Klaus’s chest, slowly inching down farther and farther. When she reached the top of his pants, she bit her lip as though asking for permission to continue. Klaus nodded his head and Caroline unbuttoned his pants, allowing his member to spring free. She palmed him, causing him to hiss at the contact. She gripped his penis and stroked him, picking up the pace as she went. Klaus grabbed her wrist, stalling her movements.
“I want to be inside you.” His tone was rough and harsh, causing Caroline’s arousal to seep down the inside of her legs. She lifted up on her knees ever so slightly, giving Klaus enough room to align himself with her entrance. Slowly, Caroline lowered herself down on top of him; seething him into her heat completely. “Fuck Caroline.”
“That’s the general idea.” She braced her hands on his shoulders and began raising herself up and down on top of him. The feel of him, sliding in and out of her was a feeling she missed the last few weeks. Ever since Caroline had concrete proof of Stefan’s affair, it was harder for her and Klaus to meet; Stefan’s paranoia driving him to do drastic things to protect his secret. But, the feel of Klaus fucking her was worth the wait. “God, I love you.”
“And I you.” Klaus’s hand reached down between her legs to touch her clit again. Caroline cried out his name, loudly. She began to ride him faster and faster, chasing that relief. His name slipping from his lips like a prayer. The sound of the honking horns of New York’s traffic fell away and she could care less if Klaus’s driver knew exactly what they were doing in the back of the limo. All that mattered was finding that release. “Klaus!”
Klaus felt her walls clench around him, sending him spiraling. His release came hard; spilling himself inside her. Caroline let out a long breath and rested her forehead against his. Slowly, once their hearts stopped beating rapidly, Caroline moved off of him and into the seat next to them. Klaus tucked himself away into his trousers while Caroline pulled a handkerchief from her purse to clean the inside of her thighs. She shifted in order to drape her legs over his lap and Klaus immediately began drawing small circles on her skin; sharing smiled between them as he did.
Soon enough the limo pulled to the side of the curb and the driver knocked on the window separating them from the front of the car.
“I suppose that this is my stop.”
“You’ll be safe?”
“Don’t worry.” Caroline leaned over and kissed him gently. “Damon is in a board meeting tonight” which was code for murdering someone “while Stefan and Elena are probably at the house fucking each other while I’m out spending Stefan’s money. By the time they realize I’m home, I’ll be in my bubble bath, drinking a nice glass of Pinot Grigio. Bags and bags of my shopping spree littering my room.”
“Thinking of me I hope, while you’re all naked and wet.” Klaus’s eyes traveled over the length of her and Caroline just giggled. She leaned up and kissed him, before grabbing her purse on the floor. Klaus grabbed her wrist before she could open the door. “Soon Caroline.”
In the end, things came to a close far more quickly than either of them expected. Within the next three months, Caroline would discover she was pregnant with Klaus’s child. Knowing that she would not be able to pawn the child off as Stefan’s, not that she would want to, Klaus had to act quickly. Photos of Stefan and Elena in an intimate position surfaced, causing Damon to go off the rails. He murdered both his brother and his wife, brutally. By the time Damon spared his sister in law a thought, she had already left and was in Klaus’s protection-handing over all of the secrets Damon worked hard to keep buried.
Damon was dead within the week.
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secret-engima · 4 years
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AU idea, lobbing it at u. The Ring of the Lucii doesn't take souls, just magic accumulated over a lifetime, & a copy of memories at the end. Nyx Ulric is Somnus reincarnated, & nobody had any clue, until he put the Ring on his /right/ hand & /remembers/. He ignore this revelation for a moment while he takes care of Glauca. Then. He just sits down in the burning rubble of Insomnia & /shakes/. Luna asks what's wrong, & he numbly tells her /everything/ he knows. Cue Roadtrip to F over the Prophecy.
Oh no.
Oh noooooooooooooooooo.
XD
Buckle up it’s time for a ramble and a NEW GLORIOUS AU.
Nyx has always known something was off about him. And not in an arrogant or “I’m destined” way but an uncomfortable, achy way that had followed him all his life. A way that made him reach for something that was never there, like a phantom limb when he was not missing any. A way that made him constantly look to his sides and be surprised-hurt-regretful when they were empty save for Libertus (and he loves Lib, he DOES, but there is something in him that keens still, like Libertus is welcome, but not the one he was expecting or meant to see).
As terrible as the Burning was, Nyx finds that the day he becomes a Kingsglaive was the best day of his life. Because when Regis gave him magic, when magic flowed into his soul and breathed like the air before the storm, Nyx felt as close to whole as he’d ever been in his life. He took to magic like he had been born to it, could warp higher, faster, farther then any other glaive, could summon fire with barely a thought and skate across ice that formed under his shoes, could dance with lightning like he was a coeurl born rather than man.
The glaives laugh and call him Hero.
Libertus looks at his friend and sometimes, when he’s drunk, thinks of him as Twice Born. Because Libertus has known Nyx all his life, has known that Nyx is wounded in his soul and Missing something and that being gifted magic did more to heal it than anything else. Even if it didn’t fix it completely.
Nyx meets Princess and something in his soul screams. He is mourning Crowe, mourning Libertus’s abandonment resigning, his bones ACHE in a way he can’t name and then he sees her, hears her voice and something in him wants to cry.
Aera Aera my friend my brother’s heart and soul and light I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I will never let it happen again I will never let you suffer just please FORGIVE ME
“Sorry,” he whispers past the glass in his throat, “I’m on duty.”
“Then surely there is no safer place for me then right here,” she retorts and Nyx feels a smile pull through the pain in his soul.
This Oracle is different from Aera.
Maybe this one will survive.
But then everything falls apart, and betrayal is like a knife in his back he deserves this he knows what this feels like now oh brother oh Aera please please and they are running, they are fighting and the king is dead and his magic is GONE-GONE-GONE and it hurts but he can’t focus on that right now.
And then.
Captain.
Traitor.
T R A I T O R.
And Nyx- Nyx is angry, Nyx is desperate. He promised to see Princess to safety another Oracle will not die because of him he will not allow it and so he feels no fear as he yanks the Ring out of her hands and slides it onto his finger.
The finger of his right hand.
The same finger Regis had worn it on.
He hadn’t meant to put it on that finger, but some old instinct had slid it there.
The world freezes. Turns dark and blue.
“Welcome back, Kinslayer and Kingkiller.” Say the voices, everywhere and nowhere, a hundred of them at least or more.
He stills, and not just from the pain of his injuries, “What-? Who-?”
“Long have we awaited the return of your soul to fulfill your promise.”
“Rise, Somnus Lucis Caelum from the dust of your forgotten era. All hail the return of the Founder King and Mystic.”
Nyx opens his mouth to say there’s been a misunderstanding, because he is HARDLY some ancient founder king but then the stone beneath him breaks and
he
f a l l s.
Life and death and memories and regret. There is a sword in his hand and blood drips from the blade as Princess-Aera-Princess-Oracle-Aera-AERA goes too still in his brother’s arms and the monster wearing his brother’s skin scrEAMS.
There is a garden and tears, gentle arms wrapping around his shoulders as soft blue eyes watch over him and red-violet hair mingles with his as a chin rests on his head and a voice murmurs, “It’s alright, little brother. It will be alright.”
There is a throne under his hands and back, a crown on his head that feels victorious for all of a moment before the world crumbles and the Astrals appear and say “What have you done, foolish mortal-.” 
There is a brother who loves him always and helps him find his feet.
There is a monster lying chained in the deep.
They are the same thing.
It is all Somnus’s fault.
It’s all Somnus’s fault.
He has to fix this somehow.
It’s all
his
fault.
No.
No, he refuses.
I am Nyx Ulric, he thinks fiercely as he claws his way to the surface of the memories, I am Nyx Ulric, not a kinslayer or traitor and i will not drown beneath these sins.
Nyx snaps awake and magic springs from his fingers as easily as breathing. The shield expands, blocking the blade of the traitor before a flick of his wrist makes lightning blast him away. Nyx stands and rolls his shoulders, feeling injuries knit back together and the bullet slide free of the wound. In another life, Nyx would have smiled and laughed in the face of death.
In another life, Nyx would not be firmly shoving memories of Somnus behind him as he passes the Ring back to Luna and grimly tells Libertus to get Princess out of here.
They hesitate, he snaps at them, the power of a king in his voice, and Libertus looks scared as they run on his order. Nyx watches them go, a shield flaring to life without looking as the traitor attacks again. Nyx turns very slowly.
Inside his armor, Glauca has never felt so exposed as when Nyx Ulric stares him down.
“Traitor,” Nyx hisses coldly, and there is something primal under his words, something ancient and angry, “You will pay for the blood of my kin on your hands.”
They fight.
It is not much of a contest.
Somnus may not have been the better fighter of the two brothers, but he had trained all his life with Gilgamesh.
Compared to his old Shield, Glauca is nothing.
Nyx stares silently over the rubble of his city as the sun rises and feels the weight of a crown that is no longer his to wear. He breathes the taste of ash and blood and daemons as the Old Wall kneel to him and then fade into dormancy, and feels … old. Whole for the first time in this life.
He almost wishes he could go back to being incomplete.
He narrows his eyes as he thinks of the Chancellor of Niflheim that he had glimpsed, of the stories of the Blademaster he has heard since coming to Insomnia.
He thinks of Princess and the great-great grandchild Somnus’s actions doomed to death.
Nyx Ulric, He Who Walks Twice, Founder and Traitor King, clenches his fists tight around his kukri, “I’m coming brother,” he whispers to the sunrise, “I will end what I have begun.” He would end the misery and pain he put his brother through if he had to crack open fate with his bare, bloodied hands.
“Just wait a little longer.”
Then he turns and limps his way out of the city. He has an Oracle to talk to and a great grandchild to save.
(And later, on a Haven, Luna listens in awe and horror at Nyx’s story, at the age in the glaive’s eyes as he effortlessly calls forth the royal armiger. She watches in tense silence as Gentiana looks upon Nyx and calls him “Mystic”, as Nyx looks at Gentiana and cooly asks if she will stand between him and his brother. Gentiana hesitates. Then backs down.
Together, the Glaive Who Was Once King and the Last Oracle set out to destroy the prophecy in its entirety and free the brother he once betrayed and long wronged.
Along the way they stop at the Tempering Grounds, and Gilgamesh discovers that metal CAN cry as he beholds his king a second time. He bends the knee without hesitation, and when Nyx says for him to Come, Gilgamesh rises and abandons his prison without hesitation.
Along the way, Nyx Who Was Somnus But Is No Longer finds that his heart is as willful as ever, and that he cannot help but give it away to Lunafreya, betrothed to Noctis by faulty treaty or no.
And maybe, just maybe along the way, before the end of their journey and the final reunion of brothers, Luna finds herself giving her heart right back.)
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Text
Everything Wrong With The Umbrella Academy. Episode 4, Man on the Moon.
We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals
Run Boy Run
Extra Ordinary
Disclaimer: This is all in good fun! I wanted to do a really nitpicky re-watch of the series and found some really cool and interesting things I didn’t notice before. This is meant to have a Cinema Sins-esque tone. However, I did take off a lot more sins than Cinema Sins would have because I do genuinely like the series and the people that made it possible. So all of the good things got one sin off and all the bad things got one sin added. This is a really long post, so grab some popcorn. If there’s anything that I missed, feel free to add it!
I would also like to add, that normally you wouldn’t watch a show this way. I am purposefully looking for mistakes, easter eggs, and other things that we’re not supposed to notice. To be honest, I am seeing a lot of the things I’m pointing out for the first time because I am watching not with the goal of entertainment, but for analysis. 
Man on the Moon
Tom Hopper’s workout routine. -1
What was Luther holding in his hand? A lighter? A toy? I can’t tell. It’s weird that they put something there at all. +1
Klaus knocked down the wall between his and Vanya’s rooms. That was the one thing in the house that said Vanya ever lived there and he destroyed it. +2
However, Klaus’s room looks really, really cool. Set designers, you win this one. -1
The bike. I have questions about that bike. When did Luther get it? Or did it belong to all the children? Sinning because no way Reggie would buy Luther a bike. Or give one to the children. +1
The shot following Luther directly gave me a bit of motion sickness. +1
Netflix subtitles have Reginald saying “Attention, Master Luther” when it is clearly Pogo. +1
“Mission alert” +1
Everyone else is gone! Luther has no backup. Reggie is a dick to Luther. +1
I know I should have mentioned this in the last episode, but Reggie put five young children in leather catsuits. Potentially six, but we never see Five in one. And he still makes Luther wear it as an adult! +6
Luther never leaves the house and keeps going on missions for Reggie because of a sense of responsibility. I can understand that. -1
However, Reggie was the one who fostered that in Luther. He made Luther think that he was responsible for saving the city, when in reality that’s up to law enforcement officers. +3
Why didn’t Luther go to a real hospital? Did Reggie take him home? How did Luther end up back in the Academy after that mission? +1
Was Luther dead? Reggie feels for his pulse and says “dammit”. Did the ape serum bring him back to life? +1
How long was Luther on that table? We see him with a beard in episode one, but it isn’t as crazy as this one. Also, does Luther bleach his hair now, or what? I am confused by Luther now being a brunette with impressive facial hair. +1
Tom Hopper nails ‘dawning horror and shock at now being an ape’. -1
Pop goes the weasel. +1
Who wound that box and placed it there? And why? The only other people there are Reggie, Grace, and Pogo. No way they did something so cruel and juvenile after permanently disfiguring him. +1
The umbrella the monkey-in-the-box suddenly has the title when it didn’t earlier. +1
“There’s something you have to see”. Yes Allison, continue to be vague. I’m sure Luther will appreciate it. Why not “I think the assassins killed Mom. Come take a look.” Is it because that would have been too logical? +1
Luther is still calling her “Grace”. +1
“Poor Diego. I mean this is gonna be so hard on him”. Choke on that irony, everyone. +1
 “I don’t wanna discuss it”. This family. Allison said the same thing about Claire moments before telling Luther everything. Parallels. +1
Vanya spent the night at Leonard’s house. Sigh. +1
“For one day I’ll think you’ll be fine”. What makes you think that, Leonard? +1
Vanya takes one sip of her coffee and never touches it again. Leonard doesn’t even drink his. What is the point of the damn coffee? +1
“When I was a kid I felt like I had to apologize for even breathing.” Reggie is a dick. +7
“I don’t think my Dad ever forgave me for being born” foreshadowing patricide. +1
Vanya and Leonard talk in front of the Icarus Theatre. Comics fans, you know why that’s significant. +1
Helen doesn’t acknowledge Vanya’s greeting like a normal human being. +1
People are already tuning, Vanya! Get your ass in the theatre so you can do the same! +1
Leonard is stupidly charming. I hate that he’s sort of likable, but it makes sense for what they’re using him for. +1
The kidnapping of Klaus Hargreeves. +4
Klaus is too kinky to tourture. -1
Where is that blood on his chest coming from? +1
Ten hours of tourture! Fuck you show for making Klaus go though that. +10
 “He’s a freak like his brother”. Which one? You met Luther and Diego. And they presumably know Five through the Commission. But which one is the freak into kinky shit? Diego? +1
“Remember Trinidad”. Noodle incident. (if you don’t know what that is google Noodle incident TV Tropes)+1
This motel has a surprising amount of towels in the bathroom. Some of the nicer places I’ve stayed don’t have that many. +1
Patch lives in house 204. “2” and “4”. Hmmm. +1
Does Diego show up on Patch’s doorstep being emo often? +1
Why is she still thinking about the 1938 fingerprint? We know that it’s plausible because of Five, but the police department should have thrown that out. It doesn’t make any sense and fingerprints can be alike. +1
She mentions the 30s cold case and Diego starts to look up in recognition. Even if he doesn’t know about the Commission or the Apocalypse, he does know about Five’s ability to time travel. He even mentions “The Boy”. Diego thinks that it was Five based on the fingerprint and his examination of the two crime scenes. -1
“For once, just try things my way”. Foreshadowing. +1
Diego hasn’t bothered to clean up the blood on his face from last night. Weirdo. +1
Allison is already forming a plan to kick Leonard’s ass the moment she sees his silhouette. Good. -1
Also, not the first time the audience has seen Leonard creeping around. Remember when he stole the journal? +1
Allison takes him down easy. Character moment showing that her superhero training hasn’t left her. Also, Allison is a badass. -1
Allison sees right through Leonard. This scene is excellent. -1
Lance has a really cute dog. -1
After seeing the shady deal while tailing Meritech, Five decides to tail Lance instead of just watching the building. Good job, Five. -1
How do you bill insurance companies for fake things? You need an insurance ID or SSN to have a patient. Where does Lance get these fake numbers from? +1
Why are eyeballs such a hot commodity? +1
“Names and numbers and I need it NOW” Five is scary. -1
Five jumped into the seatbelt. Did his powers secure it for him? +1
Five has a really organized desk. I wish I could read what he labeled the binders. +1
Luther decided to search Five’s room for clues. Pogo would be excellent at cinema sins. +1
For all we make fun of Diego’s stupid outfit, just remember, comics Diego has an even stupider one. This is the stupidity turned down. +1
The labels are now upside down on the binders when they were right side up in the last shot. +1
Either Five was a really good artist, or Reggie let Five have a poster above his bed that didn’t feature the academy. No explanation is given. +1
Five’s wallpaper depicts a boy pulling a mannequin in a wagon. -1
Luther punches a hole in Five’s wardrobe. This is never mentioned again. +1 
“When you watch those nature shows does it turn you on?” Diego is a dick. +1
If you look really closely, you can see something that looks suspiciously like the ending to Apocalypse suite in Five’s room as a piece of art taped to the wall. I checked with the comics. It looks very, very similar. -1
There are two cylindrical things on the wall. One on Five’s wall and one we can see through the doorway on the wall across from Five’s room. What is it? Nightlight? Loudspeaker? Alarm? +1
Ben Hargreeves enters the chat. -1
“Stay calm, Klaus” stay calm. +1
Hazel and Cha Cha spent over 10 hours beating the crap out of Klaus but they didn’t think of the training manual, something Cha Cha clearly has memorized, until now. +1
When did they grab his coat? Klaus was wearing nothing but a towel. Did Hazel decide to grab it on a whim? +1
“Asthma medication”. Klaus is still coherent enough to come up with an okay lie after 10 hours of tourture. +1
“Amputee hookers”. Nice call back to the comics. -1
Hazel and Cha Cha don’t hear Klaus say “not until they're high as kites” when responding to Ben. +1
“Klaus, be strong”. Ben’s facial expression was really weird with this line. +1
Klaus cracks after 10 hours of tourture while going through withdrawal. Impressive. -1
The multi-screen effects look really cool. -1
Watching Hazel and Cha Cha burn down Meritech while high as kites amuses me. -1
Watching this later while knowing that Meritech doesn’t really matter means that I don’t really care about this building. I wish there was something to make this more interesting instead of just making the eye a red herring. Leonard hasn’t lost an eye yet, so it doesn’t matter. +1
What were Hazel and Cha Cha dancing to in universe? Was this song playing on the radio or something?? +1
Luther goes through the door that’s too small for him because he’s Number One and Diego goes through the door that would actually accommodate Luther’s size. +1
Vanya’s book should be way more beat up than that if it survived the literal apocalypse with Five for 45 years. The ink looks too fresh, too. Unless this is another, newer copy of Extra Ordinary? Sin for confusion. +1
Five got way too close to that explosion. Five survives this without injury. +1
We see him lying amongst the shrapnel for crying out loud! +1
Gossip magazines. “We’re doing fine!” +1
Tween Hit is still a popular magazine seventeen years later. -1
“Vanya, she’s gone” is the vaguest wording ever. +1
However, Vanya understands this. Sin on the writers. +1
“It was those psychopaths last night” weird delivery. Allison’s tone is off. +1
Does Vanya not have any students other than Leonard? She’s perfectly free on some random afternoon so she can have a drink with Allison. +1
Hazel and Cha Cha coming down from their high. -1
Cha Cha hates doughnuts. +1
Reginald Hargreeves put his eight year old son in what amounted to a tourture chamber so he would stop being afraid. Reggie is a dick. +8
Why is Ben stuck in the closet with Klaus? +1
The cleaning lady (her name is Claudia, according to a card she leaves) has one of her ears uncovered. She totally would have been able to hear him. +1
Callback to the screw Hazel threw away to remind the audience that it’s important. -1
Ben’s whiny bullshit. Now is not the time, asshole. +2
We know why the dog ear is important, but why would Patch? At this point it’s a random piece of fabric that might look like something she saw on surveillance footage (Cha Cha’s mask). Point is, that could be something from Meritech and not necessarily urgent. +1
Patch gets the message intended for Five about Klaus. When Diego thinks that the missing brother is Five and that’s who he meant when he was talking to her. Choke on that irony and miscommunication. +1
This show is shot like a comic book and I love it. -1
“That’s what you do when you’re 17” in this specific circumstance, yes. In others, not so much. You don’t have to leave when you’re 17. +1
Luther calls out Diego for not being a real grown up while also not being a real grown up himself. +1
Diego asks “You ever even been with a girl”. Diego is a dick. +1
“We’re orphans again, dude”. When were you ever orphans? Sin for the writers for writing this or to Reggie for making them believe that they were regular orphans he adopted legitimately instead of buying. +1
“Do you ever stop talking. Wow that was easy.” I wheezed.-1
Five is drunk in the library with Dolores with equations scribbled all over the place. No one stopped him when he started writing on the walls in sharpie. +1
Five has two bottles of hard liquor with him. +2
 “Drunk as a skunk” +1
The comedic timing of Five’s hand letting go of the bottle. -1
“Jerk off on your Mr. Snuggles teddy bear”. First of all, eww. Second of all, yeah, Vanya these are all valid points she’s making. You just met this dude! +1
“But sometimes men are unredeemable shits” yeah. Sin for men and for the fact that Vanya doesn’t know this. +1
“Yay sisters” -1
What are Allison and Vanya drinking? Seriously, what are their drinks of choice? It looks like Vanya has something like a gin and tonic or a vodka soda and Allison has a rum and coke, but I can’t really tell. This is a sin until I know for sure. +1
That is a lot of extra blood on Klaus with no explanation. +1
Draw Ben like one of your French girls, Klaus. -1
“Is your brother here now.” “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific on that” -1
Ben’s wink. -1
Reggie is a dick to his adopted children. +7
Torturing a literal child and calling it training. +4
Reggie, you dramatic bitch. +1
Warrants exist for a reason, Patch. +1
Also, Patch decides to follow Diego’s shitty advice without any backup. +1
Drunk Five being carried bridal style by Luther. Aidan Gallagher being carried bridal style by Tom Hopper. -1
“I’m going through puberty. Twice.” Sucks to be you. +2
You had two bottles, Five. And you somehow didn’t die of alcohol poisoning. +2
Diego’s face. -1
Aidan Gallagher doesn’t play drunk very well. To be fair, he’s never been drunk (or at least I hope he hasn’t), but it’s still a sin. +1
“You know I hate code names”, okay Spaceboy. +1
“I’m the four frickin horsemen” or Gabriel’s horn. -1
“You haven’t been this sober since you were a teenager, since you decided to keep the ghosts at bay”. I hate the delivery on this last line, but to be fair to Justin Min, it was a shitty line in the first place. Sin for delivery and for the writers. Also, gee Ben, I thought he was just doing drugs to be contrary. +2
Zoya Popova is so underrated. I love her. -1
Ben’s lil smile. -1
Vanya’s apartment is so warm and nice with all the lights on, but this is the only time we get to see it that way. When she is on good terms with Allison. Lighting cues. -1
Allison, you’re too tall to fit in Vanya’s sweatpants. They’d be sweat capris. +1
Have I mentioned how much I love Allison’s jacket in this episode yet? Because I really like it. -1
Creepy flowers are creepy. +1
“She knows it was a misunderstanding”  Allison’s face all but says. “Do I?”. Emmy Raver-Lampman rules. -1
Also, Vanya speaks for Allison. +1
This is where they decide to show just how much of a creep Leonard is. Well done, show. -1
Leonard is a creepy, manipulative little bastard. +1
Sin off for the gory sfx makeup in this episode. The ghosts look brutal! -1
Syd the tow truck driver is back. Too bad he’s dead. +1
The dead cheerleader is disturbing. +1
This episode sort of confirms the headcanon that Klaus can speak/understand many languages. -1
The gore on Klaus keeps changing. +1
The switch in camera angles shows the shift in point of views, hence why the ghosts disappear. Clever. -1
Ben voice: Nicely done. -1
Patch waited a pretty long time. How long was the walk from the library to thy gym? +1
Chair scoot. Klaus is smart. -1
Klaus gives himself a concussion. Sinning because he had to give himself more trauma to escape from touture. +1
Claudia gives Patch the key to the room without question and then runs.+1
Klaus is coherent enough to think to hide in the vent. Klaus is a smart cookie. -1
The death of Detective Eudora Patch. +1
The Klaus theme -1
Kenny’s mom appearance! Her hat and jacket have matching flowers that also match her pants. Cute. -1
Klaus’s wink. -1
Kenny’s mom definitely saw a lot more of Klaus than what was already on display. +1
Time traveling briefcase! -1
Kenny’s mom looks for Klaus under the seat. What??? +1
Diego gives Dolores a chair. How nice of him. -1
Diego’s Prime 8s poster. If you know, you know. -1
Aidan Gallager sucks at pretending to sleep. +1
“You throw another one of those goddamn knives at me, I’m pressing charges”. I love Al. -1
It was a half hour walk from the library to the gym. Patch waited a really long time. +1
Now you remember Klaus after you found Five, who wasn’t really in any danger. +1
The little pat Luther gives Dolores. -1
Diego takes his gloves off. It’s like he wants to get framed. +1
This scene is really emotional and made me cry the first time I saw it. +1
David Castaneda is a really good actor. -1
The fridging of Detective Eudora Patch. +100
Overall Review:
This episode starts off on a really high note. I follow Tom Hopper on Instagram. He’s really fit. There is no denying that. I also appreciated the way he played Luther this episode. The scene where Luther realizes what his body looks like was heartbreaking to watch and really well acted. 
Speaking of heartbreaking to watch, the fridging of Detective Patch pisses me off. For those who don’t know, “Fridging” is when a female character is hurt or killed in some way in order to move a man’s story/emotional development forward. Considering that Patch’s death is what starts Diego’s character development, I would say that this applies. I am genuinely disappointed in the writers for doing this to Patch. I think it’s been established that I respect Patch. She doesn’t take any shit and she follows her moral compass. That is her real character. She only screws up when it comes to Diego and this is no different. She decided to be reckless like him and paid the ultimate price. However, this is completely out of character. Based on what we’re shown, Patch should have brought up her suspicions to Beeman (the other detective) and went from there. But instead, she had to die. That injustice done to her character is what deserves 100 sins. The show really dropped the ball with this one. 
Moving on, Vanya and Allison have some really good interaction in this episode. I think it’s a little weird how quickly Vanya forgave Allison after the shit she said last episode. Diego and Allison treated Vanya like a fragile object, which is what led her to Leonard. To be fair, Vanya was pretty stupid that last episode when she didn’t run away, but that doesn’t excuse what Diego said and Allison agreed with. Overall, the yay sisters thing was a good, but sus moment. 
Next, Klaus and Ben. Almost everything Ben said in this episode pissed me off. The “that’s the real tourture” speech was awful. For all the fandom loves him, Ben is a prick. However, Ben was also able to keep Klaus calm and encouraged him to control his power over the many, many ghosts in the room. So it’s kind of a wash for me this episode. I hope season 2 explores more of his character and why he would choose to say something so awful while his brother is being literally tortured. 
As for the main plot, Five’s only lead, not that it really matters yet, has been destroyed. Hazel and Cha Cha realize that they’re going to end the world if they complete their mission. And Leonard has finally been revealed to be a creep who wants something to do with Vanya’s pills. On a rewatch, we know why that’s significant, but a first time viewer would be confused in a good way. The show wants the audience to ask: Why? Vanya’s pills have been there for important moments up until this point. And now there are being forcibly taken out of the equation. Why?
Total: 193
Sentence: Getting drunk in the library with your mannequin wife while trying to do math. 
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Daenerys Targareyan: The Path Towards Madness.
Okay let's begin.
Intro: I read book 1. And then, I binge watched seasons 1-6 after season 6 finale. By that time, I knew all the major theories like L+R=J, dark!dany, targ!tyrion etc.
So, I was paying extra attention and these are some of the obvious moments where I felt they showed Dany's mad side show. Some points, you may find valid. Some points you may find silly and over-reaching. In any case, this is what *I* felt.
Feel free to have discussions. Appreciate positive critisism. However, just yelling/abusing will not be tolerated.
1. Lack of Empathy
Her obvious lack of empathy when her brother was killed.
I did not expect her to save him. I did not expect her to mourn him. I did not even expect her to cry for him. I did, however, expect a reaction, any sort of reaction, when someone close (despite him being an abusive asshole) dies that suddenly and that violently.
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2. Her facial expression during Drogo's speech.
"I will kill the men in iron suits and tear down their stone houses! I will rape their women, take their children as slaves and bring their broken gods back to Vaes Dothrak!"
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3. During her Breaker of Chains phase, she conviniently seemed to forget that she used to practice not only slavery, but also pillaging while she was with her khalesar.
Master Illeryoi owned slaves. Her brother owned slaves. She was gifted slaves to teach her how to please the Khal.
Her husband was a war-lord and her khalesar constantly raided and pillaged villages. They killed men. They raped women. Remaining alive women were taken as sex slaves and later sold. That was their way of life. She saved Mirri Maz Duur and several other women from the fate of gang rape and murder but they were still dragged along side the khalasar as slaves. In books, the reason MMD was not sold was so that she can assist Dany during childbirth.
4. The burning of Mirri Maz Duur (MMD)
This is going to make sense to a lot of people. But confuse the fuck out of many. But let's see.
In colonized countries, we have a term called "Savior's Complex". It is where a colonizer raids a country, steal its riches, impose extreme taxing, destory most of its heritage and then expect praise for bringing something (could be education, technology, architecture).
Dany takes the complex another step above. She not only expects gratitude from an enslaved MMD while dragging her along with her khalesar with sole purpose of assistance with childbirth, she also expects her to save the life of her husband. The war-lord whose khalesar raided her home, pillaged her village, killed her countrymen, raped/killed her countrywomen, dragged remaining alive women along with the khalesar to be sold later. Despite all this, Dany expects gratitude from MMD for her life. This flawed logic however is thrown back in her face.
"So, tell me again exactly what it was that you saved?"
"Your life."
"Why don't you take a look at your Khal? Then you will see exactly what life is worth, when all the rest has gone."
This is an old age tale of revenge. Khal raided her village. She took revenge on them for destroying her temple. Dany burned her for it.
What completely bamboozled me in this fandom was how much people hated MMD for what she did while completely making Dany the victim in this scenario while forgetting that MMD was the orginal victim who was not only an enslaved prisoner of war, but also gang-raped victim of her khalesar's doing.
5. Ser Barriston's words.
Ser Barriston in Mereen, tells her to treat injustice with mercy. She replies that she will treat injustice with justice.
Another quote by Ser Barriston: "He gave people the people the justice he thought they deserved."
Justice and what people in power percieve as justice is often very different.
6. Daenerys' justice for the crucified slave children
She did that by choosing 163 random Great Masters and crucifying them to avenge the 163 slave children. This seems like justice. But is it, really? They never recieved trial. They were never proven guilty. Like Hizdahr Loraq said, some of the masters were not in favor of crucifying children and tried very hard to stop it. Who knows how many other good masters she crucified?
This is a direct parallel to Ser Barriston's words about Mad King Aerys: "He gave people the people the justice he thought they deserved."
7. She stopped slavery only when it benefitted her.
Some of you, while reading point 6, may have thought, "They were SLAVERS! So what?!".
Well, while choosing 163 masters, Dany decided that all Masters are her enemies. She decided that all of them deserved punishment. She decided that they were guilty just for engaging in slavery while conviniently forgetting that if that were the case, she should be the one in the first cross.
8. She burnt Great Masters without even investigating who were behind the Sons of Harpy's attack.
After Ser Barriston's death, we again get to see more of her twisted sense of justice. By her own words, "Who is innocent? Maybe all of you are, maybe none of you are. Maybe, I should let the dragons decide."
It is not supposed to be called justice if you punish (and a cruel punishment, at that) without even caring whether they are innocent or not.
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9. "You are a conquerer. Not a ruler."
Time and time again Dany proves this to be true. She conquered Yunkai and left immeidetely. The slavers took back the city in no time. She closed off the fighting pits and refused to open them despite being told that participants will be free men who enter willingly. This is where ruling comes in. Any place she conquered and freed, she failed to put something else to keep up the economy. She collapsed the economy so bad that slaves were selling themselves again.
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10. Wrongful imprisonment.
Dany finds that Drogon has harmed children. The correct response is to either train or punish the dragons. She, however, imprisons the two dragons who werent at fault while Drogon ran free. Does that mean she is not responsible for whatever terror or death Drogon caused to wherever he flew off to? What exactly does imprisoning Rhaegar and Viseryion get her?
What kind of justice is it where the accused is free while the innocent get prisoned for association. Again, feeds into the twisted justice train.
11. Twisted Justice. Hipocrisy. Again.
While many men were fed to dragons, Hizdahr Loraq was imporisoned. He begged for mercy in terror.She also decides that she will show her respect for Meereen by marrying a member of one of its great families. For a woman who was forced into marriage and "sold like a broodmare", she sure didn't feel any moral dilemma in making a terrifed man betroth her. His death though, proved that he was not at all involved with Sons of Harpy and he was imprisoned for nothing.
12. Burning POW's
Burning Tarly's (father and son) was a direct paralell to her father burning Ned's father and brother alive. You cannot hide behind "It was a war. She gave them a choice." No matter what defenses one can attempt to give her, killing (forget burning) POW is a war crime. So is forcing prisoners against their own side of war.
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13. Defending cruelty in path of justice
She killed Tarly's and defended that decision, by saying that was necessary.
When Hizdahr asks her how many men will have died to achieve her goal, she says "They would have died for a greater cause." She is talking about destroying cities and sure, that must be for a greater purpose.
When Tyrion reminds her that about what her father planned to do when she said she wnated to burn Mereen to the ground.. her response was "This is different,". How, exactly?
"The easiest way to defend cruelty is to say that it is part of the destiny."
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14. The insinct to burn down cities.
By s8e01, she has wanted to burn down cities thrice. Meereen - once. King's Landing - twice. Both times, she had to be talked out of it by her advisors. The fact that her first instinct when her plans were failing was to burn down cities. Direct parallel to Aerys wanting to destroy king's landing because he thought there were traitors everywhere. The fact is that a person can surrond themselves with good counsel. But it is not necessary that the counsel is always heeded. Which is what happened to Aerys. He was going incresingly mad for months and his counsel members hid the fact from the outside world because they thought they could control the madness. We all know what happened in the end.
Since s7, Dany has been becoming increasingly paranoid about Tyrion's loyalty and increasingly more frustrated with every loss. How long before she decides not to listen to them anymore?
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15. The entire collonialist/white savior imagary presented in Essos.
It is amazing how most of the fandom either ignores it or is just unaware of it.
Though this point doesnt parallel anything to the show, i just found it extremely cringy. I am sure members of most colonized countries would. I cant even beging to describe how cringy that mysha scene was.
16. The typical white priviledge mentality.
She wants to inherit her ancestor's throne and power. But she doesnt want to repent for her ansestor's sins and betrayal.
17. Wrong sense of entitlement
She truly believes that she is entitled to the North's fealty. She asks Jon Snow not to judge her based on her ancestors and in the same breath asks him to hold up the vows of his ancestors.
But, whatever vow the Starks made to the Targareans was broken the moment Aerys decided to burn the Starks. The fealty was made on promise of protection. Technically, any member of the houses that Aerys burnt, is no longer accountable to the vow.
Still, she expects everyone to uphold their fealty but refusing to accpet that her father broke that fealty when he decided to burn the vassels (whom he promised to protect) alive.
18. Savior Complex
Some parts of Dany reminds me of how missionaries work.
"Will your God punish me for not praying to him if I did not know about him?"
"No."
"Then why did you tell me about him?"
I believe one thing about Daenerys Targareyan. That she truly wants to help people. That she truly wants to save people. But her problem is, she wants to be the one to save people. She doesnt seem to understand that some people dont require saving.
She talks about freeing the world of tyrants and in the same breath refuses to give North the independence that they demand in solidarity. How is that not the definition of tyranny?
This is Westeros. I am not expecting a democracy and free elections. If she wants to be a conquerer, then she can be one. If she wants to bring to bring together the 7k, she can. What she cannot do is talk about destiny, talk about a wheel, talk about breaking the wheel, and and then do the exact same thing her ansestors did years go by spinning the wheel so that she is on top.
19. She was smiling when she saw that her dragons terrified people of Winterfell.
20. "They eat whatever they want"
Is that really the correct way to respond to people are already scared/cowering over the arrival of dragons? To people who have never seen such beasts before? Did she forget that few seasons ago "whatever they want" that Drogon ate were children?
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21. Jaime's trial
She made Jaime stand trial and was heavily leaning towards punish him despite the fact that she knew what her father had planned and what Jaime Lannister had done. She openly spoke in favor of the Mad King in front of Northern Lords. When Tyrion intervened, she publically breated him and questioned his loyalty. Further adds to the Mad King's paranoia and unwillingness to listen to counsel.
22. Jaime Lannister
Not only has he tried to kill her, he has also questioned her intentions twice. The only living person who knows about Mad King more than anyone is perhaps Jaime Lannister. When he questions Tyrion, "Is she really different? Are you sure?" in a sceptical tone. If he doesnt trust her or thinks she had the Targ madness, then I am willing to bet that she probably does.
23. Her decling human connections
the show seems adament in making her seem alone. Like a stranger in her own home land. In an episode full of emotional reconnections, tenderness, friendships and relationships, she is shown all alone. In later episodes, she is incresingly shown alientated: Theon coming to fight for the starks despite being her bannerman, death of the Jorah, Tyrion's withdrawal.
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24. jorah was her mercy.
She had shown jorah mercy despite his betrayal. She cared for him and most importantly, completely trusted and listened to him. When she felt no remorse about berating Tyrion and strongarming Sansa, jorah urges her to forgive tyrion and to try and make amends with LAdy of Winterfell. And, she listened to him. He is the only advisor she fully trusts and listens to without having to worry about wavering loyalties. And jorah's death is going to be the acorn in Ice Age that started the avalanche.
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<<2 episodes left. will add more after next one airs.>>
This is not to say that she was an evil character. She was a good person with good intentions and bad execution with a twisted sense of justice and destiny. But, the journey to hell is paved with good intensions. Dany was a character who had the potential to be great. But she was always headed to doom. She is a good person whose downfall will be due to pride, ambition and obsession with destiny. She will chose her fate with a sound mind but a flawed personality. Her story will not be heroic, but tragic. Not because of what she was, but because of how she could have been.
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ajadedflame · 4 years
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Oh ride on that furious beast Oh glide on that mountain fire
What a Revelator. What a Revelator.
Speak it now. Speak it true. It comes from a higher voice.
Bathe in the light of Him as those who once did upon His grace. Those who once walked among the sky but fallen they are as their wings died.
Such a way to watch them wither. She hid long ago in the bygone era. A call of a King entranced to come hither. None does she listen to now. It is just a sea of humans among the world. The ones the other God did not enjoy. The God of darkness he proclaims to be but all in all he is a King of hell’s misery.
Her steps are unbridled in determined prophecy. They are sketchy little things. Sketchy little bugs who skitter around lowly and moan for a god who descended into nothing. A waste of time for her to hear them. Crying out their vengeance but she says nothing. Why raise a word to the same, the never ending echo of that sweet revenge?
Detroit bustles. She sees the city in a new age long since surviving the Babylonian. It’s quite a thrill really. How easy they all blend together. How easy they forget great temples and vast kingdoms. Beneath their feet reigns a hell cracked but she took no part of this war. Why dip toes in something when it wouldn’t do good? Outcomes vary. Just ask the sentries of their fallen.
She leans in the frame of brick and mortar. The weathered texture grazes her palm where she waits. Idle and watching the passerby gives sustenance to her curiosity. Lowly are those who do not see evil nor see good. Their wars wage on and on it’s true. The problem with them is they have no idea what good or evil actually is. For anyone taking notice of her? She’s nobody. A face in the crowd that doesn’t stand out to many. She downplays her style. That’s a start. The fashion of humans is curious indeed, casual and nondescript.
“I knew you’d be here.”
Jade tilts her head towards the husky tone. Silken even as the tall figure looms up behind her. Coming up as he does leaves her hardly surprised. He does have a flair for stealth.
“This is where I asked you to meet,” she corrects his assumption. Leave it to male demons to play their cards in a way that gives them the best hand. Decks are nowhere near as overpowering as dicks in this instance. “Nice of you to be discreet.” She turns around, fabric shifting against her waist where his hand rests. Her eyes lower over his attire. “Can hardly say the same for your appearance.”
“Beige and salmon are my colors,” the man insists with a dip of his head. He places a kiss to her lips. A seal for the mighty hell lord. “I’d envy if you didn’t greet me that way in return.”
She snorted. “Funny of you.” Placing a palm against his jaw, she shoved his head aside and stepped down the alleyway. “I’m not here for a romantic tryst. Nor am I in the mood for your games, Envy!” Snapping, she jolted her head in his direction, unnatural movement coupled only with the flare of fire in her eyes. Emerald flame. A spark barely there before it dissipates again. It’s something he finds intriguing or worth his attention at any rate. This isn’t the first time he’s decided to embark his jealous charm on her. He might do this with everyone who seemingly has it better than him. Considering who set him out here on Earth it should sate his cardinal sin enough for now.
“What did I do to gain your wrath?” Envy asks with a bow his head. His eyes lift, dark chocolate skimming over her. “It does better than true Wrath. Traitor to the King.”
“Leviathan. What did he tell you?”
“Quick to ask my task aren’t you? Oh Jade. Jewel of the Nile. Did you let it turn red as your green envy showed?”
She glared. “You think you’re smart.”
“If I wasn’t,” the man in beige cream drawled, stepping close. “You wouldn’t enjoy our talks. Or our correspondence now. Which I think is the most important thing. Oh and - Callum. Not Envy.”
“Callum.” Jade repeated as she crossed arms over her chest. “Very human of you.”
“It was either that or Caleb. And I think that’s taken up by pitifiul Lust.” Throwing it out, Envy or Callum as he has chosen as his human moniker, doesn’t mince words. His hatred might be confused with Wrath at times. Lately he is morphing ever closer to Pride at points but his envy is too great to ever transition. Unlike the Pride who became Wrath but still helped his useless brothers. “I’m here on official order of the King.”
“Lucifer is dead.”
“Is he?” Callum countered. He smiled.
Jade didn’t return it but it was a sign. Her eyes spoke the truth better than silken words on the tongue. “Do your mission then without telling me. I have something to do. Something that may turn the tide.”
“Mysterious,” he whispered. “I like mystery. I like you. Unknown goddess of the underground.”
She ignored his attempt. As handsome as Envy is she’ll not indulge on that. There are greater things at stake. There are bigger prophecies. It’s only just beginning. A beginning to an end.
other muse: @detroitfortune
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hoodoo12 · 4 years
Text
Familial Ties (And How To Break Them) 5/14
SFW  ~
Dawn found Pate sitting on her bed, the open half of Fuchs's book in her lap, her laptop in front of her, with a spiral notebook covered in cramped, hurried notations, some of which had been scratched out. Excitement was beginning to bubble in her chest, she thought she just might have uncovered a solution to the Rigel problem.
Early as it was, she couldn't wait another minute before filling Beej in on what she'd found, to see if he thought it might be possible. It might be grasping at straws, but it was better than nothing. Gathering everything into a pile she could transport one-handed, Pate clumsily wriggled her way off the bed and crossed to the door, gripping the knob and throwing it open with an enthusiastic cry of,
"Beej! I think I've figured it out!"
The door was thrown open, away from him, and with no support, he fell into the room. To his disappointment, she'd changed her clothing; he'd have gotten another pretty view of her panties if she'd kept that sleep shirt on! As it was, sprawled on the floor at Pate's feet, he tried to play it off cool.
"Hey, uh. Hello again!" he said as he pushed himself up. "You figured what out?"
He tried to stand, but his legs were tangled in the quilt and he struggled mightily to not fall over again.
He failed, and hit the wall.
Pate gasped when she opened her door and spilled demon all over the floor, blinking dumbly down at him. Had he fallen asleep outside her door? Warmth blossomed in her chest at the thought, but as he visibly labored to stand only to fall again she hurriedly stepped around him to deposit her burden on the end of the couch, rushing back to kneel next to him and help untangle the quilt from around his legs.
"Are you okay?" she asked worriedly.
"I'm good, baby," he replied, and didn't help at all to get her quilt off him; it was nice to feel just the thought of her hands on his legs.
Once he was released, he popped up and gave her hand up as well, pulling her to her feet; the motion made her end up against his chest. For a second, he froze, then as smoothly as he could, he stepped away.
"What did you figure out?" he asked again, gesturing towards all the paperwork she'd left on her couch.
Hearing the term of endearment again, his hand extended down to help her up, the feeling of her warm fingers encased in his cold ones.... Her pulse fluttered, and then to find herself standing against him, it was almost enough to make her forget what she'd been so eager to tell him.
Mentally shaking herself, Pate beamed at him.
"I think I know how to banish Rigel!" she announced, dropping herself onto the couch and spreading her research around so he could see it. "I couldn't sleep, so I started looking through the book, trying to find that incantation. I didn't see it, so I figure Rigel must've gotten that page."
She giggled when he rolled his eyes in an "of course . . ." sort of way.
"But! I did find this." She turned the book around to show him the page in question. "Ora infernum! Hellmouths. I used to see depictions of them in medieval illuminations all the time, but I never thought they'd be real! If Google translate is worth anything at all, it looks like they're actual living creatures who act as portals to hell. Fuchs writes that if you're able to kill the hellmouth, that portal closes. So could we do that? Push his pompous ass through a hellmouth and then kill it so he can't come back?"
And he'd thought Sandworms were bad. Those  . . . "hellmouths" looked fucking terrifying.
He took the destroyed book from her and looked at the illustration more closely. "So, are they like a sarlacc, or something? Are they a vacuum? Am I going to get sucked in?"
He knew he was peppering her with questions, but one was most important of all.
"How the fuck would we kill that thing?"
Pate rifled through her notes, sweeping a loose strand of hair out of her mouth.
"Hmm . . . Fuchs isn't totally clear on that. It looks like the only one he ever saw was already dead. All the depictions I ever saw of them in manuscripts, it didn't look like anything was being pulled in, more like the mouth is just a tunnel. A really gross tunnel down a monster's throat where you end up in hell, but just a passageway. As for how to kill it, I'm sure we can come up with something. Those tentacles of yours, couldn't they do some serious damage?"
Beetlejuice had no desire to get any body parts near that ugly thing. He looked dubiously over the illustration again.
"What prevents anyone in the mouth from just walking back out again?"
She crossed her arms, humming thoughtfully to herself.
"Also unclear... I'd guess that once whoever is in the mouth, you've got to kill the creature to seal the exit."
She leaned back against the sofa, frowning at the carpet as she pondered. How to kill such a giant monster? All she really had to go on was Hollywood and folklore. Wooden stake? That was vampires... And from what she could tell, the hellmouth was just a head. No heart to stake. Silver bullet? Possible, but it would have to be a massive bullet to kill something so big. Pate sat upright with a tiny gasp.
"Holy water," she said.
"Holy water? Like the stuff priests bathe in or whatever?" he asked. He only had a vague idea of the stuff; water was water and it wasn't his best friend. "I suppose . . . but we've got to find one of those things, and get Rigel to it. That's a lot of work, baby."
Pate shrugged, offering a tight smile. "I know. It's a long shot, but it's all we've got. Rigel's your..." she grimaced apologetically. "Brother, right? You know him better than I do, where would he go?"
He grimaced.
"Half brother," he reluctantly admitted. "My bitch of a mother's favorite out of all of us. He was always the best about dragging souls to the Netherworld."
He thought about her question for a moment, chewing his thumb nail.
"He's one of two places," he finally said. "The Vatican, because if he can get priests, that's like hitting the lottery. Or Las Vegas, because sometimes quantity over quality isn't a bad thing. If he's feeling like it, he'd definitely get more pussy in Vegas, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't get down and dirty with religious officials . . . so . . . flip a coin?"
Pate picked up on the bitter edge to his voice when he talked about his family, though she'd gotten the gist from his interaction with Rigel and the barbs tossed back and forth. She scooted closer to him on the couch while he thought, spotting some loose change she'd left on a small wooden tray table by the sofa. Plucking a quarter from the bunch she plopped back down next to him, their legs pressed flush as she held it up to show him.
"Heads Italy, tails Vegas?" she asked.
He hesitated for a beat, then gave a firm nod and Pate took a breath and flicked the coin in the air with her thumb, watching it spin.
"Vegas is always good for tail, baby," he joked, and didn't care that made her blush. The coin arced into the air, then landed on the carpet with a soft sound. He laughed at the result. "Looks like we're headed to Sin City!"
Pate rolled her eyes, grinning all the while so he wouldn't take it the wrong way. "I've never been to Nevada," she quipped. "It's hot out there, right? I'd better pack my shorts."
Pate leaned back in the driver's seat, left hand on the steering wheel, right hand drumming her thigh in time with the music playing low over the radio. She and Beetlejuice were nearing the halfway point of the nearly 2300 mile drive to Las Vegas. The GPS mounted on her dashboard said it was a 33 hour expedition one way.
Of course it would have been infinitely faster to fly, but Pate didn't think she could bear the stress of trying to get Beetlejuice through airport security. If she were honest with herself, spending the better part of two days in a vehicle with him was too tempting to resist.
Sitting still for that long, however, wasn't something the specter was accustomed or suited to. So Beetlejuice was currently reclining in the passenger seat with her tablet, playing the games she'd showed him. She glanced over at him every so often, intent upon whatever he was doing, the tip of his tongue held between his teeth as he concentrated. She smiled, her heart swelling and thumping a little harder at the sight.
This vehicle. He hated it. Hated. It. It was too small, the seat only went down to a weird, not-quite-flat position with a weird angle, the backseat was okay if he didn't mind curling up but Pate wouldn't let him ride with his feet out the windows. The tablet she'd brought along was okay; it at least passed the time and kept him distracted. She distracted him too, but she'd told him she got creeped out when he just sat still like a corpse and stared at her.
Sometimes he crawled into the back seat just so he didn't have to work as hard to hide the broomstick that occasionally showed up in his pants. The overnight accommodations? In the crappy motels? Those were a trial too, because she couldn't afford two rooms. He always pretended to sleep, but spent the nights listening to her breathe.
At long last the towering hotels and casinos of Sin City lay sprawled before them, the many hundreds of thousands of windows flashing in the bright desert sun.
As they left the highway traffic grew a bit more congested, but she was content to putter along at a snail’s pace, looking around as much as possible while still keeping an eye on the road. Pate turned a wide grin at Beej, who had clambered back into the passenger seat and slipped out from under the shoulder strap of his seatbelt. She insisted he wear it, she said it was so the cops didn’t pull them over and so the seat belt alarm wouldn’t go off the whole drive, but mostly she wanted him to be safe if something happened. She never told him that last part.  
He was leaning forward, his arms folded across the dashboard, grinning back at her. They cruised down Las Vegas Blvd, past the famed hotels and casinos.
“I booked us a room on the strip,” she told him, looking out for the unmistakable pink neon lotus outside the hotel. “Figured as long as we were going to Vegas we might as well do it right!”
He looked from one window to the next to the next to the next, sometimes catching Pate's eyes as he grinned. This place looked bright, it looked chaotic, it looked like a good place for a great time. It looked like the perfect playground for all sorts of hedonism.
"On the Strip? Which hotel? Look! Cher is still here! Can we see Cher? Huh? Or one of those shows at night when the women are naked? Huh? Pate! Let's see one of those!" Did he sound like a kid on sugar? Maybe, but he didn't care.
His hyperactive enthusiasm made her laugh as he rattled off requests, and she decided then and there that sometime in the not-too-distant future they were going to go on a real vacation. But for the time being . . .
"Slow down there, Bug," she giggled. "We've got a mission, remember? Find a hellmouth, get our hands on some holy water, and then boot your shitstain of a brother back to hell."
Beej pouted, sliding down in the seat and making her giggle more.
"But, if all goes well, I don't see any reason why we couldn't take in a show."
His exuberance returned at once, full force, and Pate laughed. His unbridled excitement must be catching, because she could feel it fizzing in her chest like bubbly champagne.
"As to our accommodations . . ." she said, pulling into the drive, the enormous Flaming Lotus in bright pinks and orange blooming from the corner of the entrance of the building on their left. "It's not the Bellagio, but it beats the hell outta Motel 6."
He couldn't help but grin widely at the nickname she'd taken to calling him during this, and this hotel?! It was just as loud and hard on the eyes as he could be, and he loved it. Pate kept an incredibly tight hold on him as she marched him through the lobby. As much as he wanted to lay down on the marble floors or explore the space, her hand clasped around his or her arm under his jacket around his waist to keep him contained was much much better. He knew what a marble slab felt like, anyway.
In the elevator, a couple with a kid gave them--him-- a look, and his dead eyed return stare hurried them off the lift without making more eye contact.
When they were gone and the two of them were alone the rest of the ride up, Beetlejuice didn't draw attention to the fact that Pate hadn't released his hand.
At the room, he was disappointed to find two beds; it was just another indication of her distrust of him. That still stung, but she had been right. They had a job to do.
 tbc
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7th October >> Mass Readings (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)     Our Lady of the Rosary 
    on 
Wednesday, Twenty Seventh Week in Ordinary Time.
Wednesday, Twenty Seventh Week in Ordinary Time
 (Liturgical Colour: White)
     (Readings for the feria (Wednesday))
(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Wednesday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)
    First Reading
Galatians 2:1-2,7-14
They recognised the grace that God had given me
It was not till fourteen years had passed that I went up to Jerusalem again. I went with Barnabas and took Titus with me. I went there as the result of a revelation, and privately I laid before the leading men the Good News as I proclaim it among the pagans; I did so for fear the course I was adopting or had already adopted would not be allowed. On the contrary, they recognised that I had been commissioned to preach the Good News to the uncircumcised just as Peter had been commissioned to preach it to the circumcised. The same person whose action had made Peter the apostle of the circumcised had given me a similar mission to the pagans. So, James, Cephas and John, these leaders, these pillars, shook hands with Barnabas and me as a sign of partnership: we were to go to the pagans and they to the circumcised. The only thing they insisted on was that we should remember to help the poor, as indeed I was anxious to do.
When Cephas came to Antioch, however, I opposed him to his face, since he was manifestly in the wrong. His custom had been to eat with the pagans, but after certain friends of James arrived he stopped doing this and kept away from them altogether for fear of the group that insisted on circumcision. The other Jews joined him in this pretence, and even Barnabas felt himself obliged to copy their behaviour.
When I saw they were not respecting the true meaning of the Good News, I said to Cephas in front of everyone, ‘In spite of being a Jew, you live like the pagans and not like the Jews, so you have no right to make the pagans copy Jewish ways.’
The Word of the Lord
R/ Thanks be to God.
   Responsorial Psalm
Psalm 116(117)
 R/ Go out to the whole world and proclaim the Good News.
O praise the Lord, all you nations,
 acclaim him all you peoples!
R/ Go out to the whole world and proclaim the Good News.
Strong is his love for us;
 he is faithful for ever.
R/ Go out to the whole world and proclaim the Good News.
    Gospel Acclamation
Psalm 118:24
Alleluia, alleluia!
Train me, Lord, to observe your law,
to keep it with my heart.
Alleluia!
  Or:
Romans 8:15
Alleluia, alleluia!
The spirit you received is the spirit of sons,
and it makes us cry out, ‘Abba, Father!’
Alleluia!
    Gospel
Luke 11:1-4
How to pray
Once Jesus was in a certain place praying, and when he had finished, one of his disciples said, ‘Lord, teach us to pray, just as John taught his disciples.’
He said to them, ‘Say this when you pray:
‘“Father, may your name be held holy,
your kingdom come;
give us each day our daily bread,
and forgive us our sins,
for we ourselves forgive each one who is in debt to us.
And do not put us to the test.”’
The Gospel of the Lord
R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
  ———————————
    Our Lady of the Rosary 
  (Liturgical Colour: White)
     (Readings for the memorial)
(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Wednesday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)
    First Reading
Acts of the Apostles 1:12-14
The apostles all joined in continuous prayer with Mary, the mother of Jesus
After Jesus was taken up into heaven the apostles went back from the Mount of Olives, as it is called, to Jerusalem, a short distance away, no more than a sabbath walk; and when they reached the city they went to the upper room where they were staying; there were Peter and John, James and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James son of Alphaeus and Simon the Zealot, and Jude son of James. All these joined in continuous prayer, together with several women, including Mary the mother of Jesus, and with his brothers.
The Word of the Lord
R/ Thanks be to God.
   Responsorial Psalm
Luke 1:46-55
 R/ The Almighty works marvels for me. Holy is his name!
or
R/ Blessed is the Virgin Mary, who bore the Son of the eternal Father.
My soul glorifies the Lord,
 my spirit rejoices in God, my Saviour.
R/ The Almighty works marvels for me. Holy is his name!
or
R/ Blessed is the Virgin Mary, who bore the Son of the eternal Father.
He looks on his servant in her nothingness;
 henceforth all ages will call me blessed.
The Almighty works marvels for me.
 Holy his name!
R/ The Almighty works marvels for me. Holy is his name!
or
R/ Blessed is the Virgin Mary, who bore the Son of the eternal Father.
His mercy is from age to age,
 on those who fear him.
He puts forth his arm in strength
 and scatters the proud-hearted.
R/ The Almighty works marvels for me. Holy is his name!
or
R/ Blessed is the Virgin Mary, who bore the Son of the eternal Father.
He casts the mighty from their thrones
 and raises the lowly.
He fills the starving with good things,
 sends the rich away empty.
R/ The Almighty works marvels for me. Holy is his name!
or
R/ Blessed is the Virgin Mary, who bore the Son of the eternal Father.
He protects Israel, his servant,
 remembering his mercy,
the mercy promised to our fathers,
 to Abraham and his sons for ever.
R/ The Almighty works marvels for me. Holy is his name!
or
R/ Blessed is the Virgin Mary, who bore the Son of the eternal Father.
    Gospel Acclamation
cf. Luke 1:28
Alleluia, alleluia!
Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee!
Blessed art thou among women.
Alleluia!
    Gospel
Luke 1:26-38
'I am the handmaid of the Lord'
The angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the House of David; and the virgin’s name was Mary. He went in and said to her, ‘Rejoice, so highly favoured! The Lord is with you.’ She was deeply disturbed by these words and asked herself what this greeting could mean, but the angel said to her, ‘Mary, do not be afraid; you have won God’s favour. Listen! You are to conceive and bear a son, and you must name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David; he will rule over the House of Jacob for ever and his reign will have no end.’ Mary said to the angel, ‘But how can this come about, since I am a virgin?’ ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you’ the angel answered ‘and the power of the Most High will cover you with its shadow. And so the child will be holy and will be called Son of God. Know this too: your kinswoman Elizabeth has, in her old age, herself conceived a son, and she whom people called barren is now in her sixth month, for nothing is impossible to God.’ ‘I am the handmaid of the Lord,’ said Mary ‘let what you have said be done to me.’ And the angel left her.
The Gospel of the Lord
R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
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bellemorte180 · 4 years
Text
Just Good Business: Chapter Three “the drabble”
Caroline Salvatore, married into one of New York's most brutal crime families.
Niklaus Mikaelson, a notorious mob boss who is hell bent on taking down the Slavatores.
It's an affair for the ages.
A/N: this is a re-posting of the drabble from Klaroline week. I am re-posting it because of how it lines up in the timeline. I made slight changes to it but nothing major (other than taking out the ending for obvious reasons). 
Chapter Three: the drabble 
She shouldn’t be doing this. She knew it was wrong, but she honestly didn’t care. She was a married woman and the man she was straddling in the back of his limo as it drifted down New York’s busy streets was most certainly not her husband. Granted, the life they all lived, what could be considered right anymore? After the incident with her husband, Caroline cared less and less for the fact that she was cheating on him. Her body was just now beginning to heal.
“Are you sure these windows are tinted?” Caroline hissed out, grinded down upon his clothed erection. It wasn’t the first time it happened. Her affair with New York’s most notorious mob boss began months ago. It started out as a power play for him and a way for her to try and feel something; anything. Neither one of them could have imagined that it would have become more than just sex for them. “Klaus?”
Niklaus Mikaelson, the most feared man in the entire city; one who ran not only drugs, weapons, and woman but had more blood on his hands than anyone else, was in love with her. It was an intoxicating feeling.
“I would never let us be seen, Sweetheart. Not yet at least.” Caroline smirked at him and kissed him hard; her teeth nipping at his bottom lip. Her hips rotated again, searching for some friction in order to relieve that pent-up tension she was feeling. It had been far too long since he had been able to touch her. It wasn’t easy for Caroline to sneak away in order to meet her lover, especially when she and her husband are well known in the city; that and in the last few months Stefan had been having her followed. And the media closing in on them due to Stefan’s arrest.
The marriage between Stefan and Caroline Salvatore was an arranged affair. They both came from very old families who wanted nothing more than an alliance. So, the corrupt Chief of Police married her only daughter to the brother of an even more corrupt businessman. It did not take Caroline long to realize that her husband was dull, horrid in bed and was in love with his brother’s wife, Elena. Stefan looked at Caroline as nothing more than a possession and barely spoke to her.
Klaus’s finger tips traced up Caroline’s spine while her black backless dress bunched at her waist. His fingers sent shivers all over her body. When he went to lace his fingers through her impeccable updo, Caroline stopped him.
“Not the hair. I can’t go home looking freshly fucked, now can I?” Caroline replied, nipping playfully at Klaus’s lips. “We still have to let Stefan think that I am his faithful and dutiful wife, don’t we? And with Elijah’s men watching the house day and night, can’t have them thinking I’m a tramp.”
“I can have you widowed by morning, love. Just was the word.” Klaus replied, his hand slipping under her dress. His fingers graced her clit, her panties had been long forgotten on the limo’s floor. Caroline hissed out his name again. He added a slight pressure to that sensitive bundle of nerves just as his lips graced her throat. His tongue peeked out and licked her pulse point. “He would be dead and I could easily make you mine.”
“But your plans?” Caroline whimpered. Klaus slipped a finger inside of her and pumped lightly. Then he added a second finger before curling him, his nails scraping the side of her walls. His thumb touched her clitoris and began drawing circled on it while his fingers slowly fucked her.
“Fuck my plans.” Klaus hissed, his fingers pushed in roughly, causing Caroline to cry out. “I don’t like that he gets to touch you. I don’t like that he gets to fuck you when you’re mine. I want his head on a stick and my plans already changed once.”
It was true. When Klaus and Caroline started sleeping together, he was using her to get intel on the Salvatore family. He originally planned on revealing his affair with Caroline to Stefan in due time after getting everything he needed in order to take down Damon Salvatore. Caroline knew this and in truth she didn’t care. She hated her marriage and screwing over Stefan and Damon was enough for her; even if it meant getting herself killed.
However, when Klaus started falling for Caroline, he shifted his plans. He did not want to risk Stefan getting enraged that his wife was fucking his brother’s rival and killing her; they didn’t call Stefan the Ripper for nothing. So, they changed course. Klaus’s main goal was taking down the Salvatore brothers not just because they murdered his brother, but because he needed Caroline safe.
“He hasn’t.” Caroline whimpered out, grinding down on Klaus’s fingers. He looked at her in question, a smirk playing upon his lips. “Stefan and I haven’t had sex in months, not since I caught him in bed with Elena.”
“Really?” Klaus hissed. He removed his fingers from her and Caroline cursed at him. He just grinned at her, bringing one finger to his lips and licked it clean before doing the same to the other. “You wouldn’t just be saying that so I will go easy on you, now would you?”
“No.” Caroline weaved her fingers through Klaus’s hair, gripped and pulled his head back. She looked down at him, peering into those pearly blue eyes she adored. He kissed him slowly, tasting her juices on his lips. “He said that he was glad I knew and that he didn’t have to pretend with me. He made his opinion very clear. Stay the pretty little wife on his arm while he fucked Damon’s behind closed doors. In return I get to keep my head upon my shoulders.”
“He threatened you.” That was unforgivable to Klaus. “The increase of bodyguards?”
“Just to ensure I don’t spend too much alone time with Damon. Can’t have his brother learning his dirty little secret.” Caroline tossed him a sinful smile and Klaus bucked his hips upward, rubbing roughly against her core. “Pity Enzo is employed by someone other than Stefan.”
“Good man Enzo.” Lorenzo St. John, Caroline’s personal bodyguard and double agent. Klaus hired him to infiltrate the Salvatore business. When he was assigned to guard Caroline, even better. The problem was that Enzo was only one of Caroline’s guards that was Klaus’s man; the rest where loyal to the Salvatore brothers. “And what are you and Enzo up to tonight?”
“Dress shopping.” Klaus chucked at that.
“Such a pretty dress.” His one hand running over the dress, touching her erect nipples through the silk. “It would be a shame if it got ruined.”
“Don’t you dare.”
Caroline ran her hands down Klaus’s chest, slowly inching down farther and farther. When she reached the top of his pants, she bit her lip as though asking for permission to continue. Klaus nodded his head and Caroline unbuttoned his pants, allowing his member to spring free. She palmed him, causing him to hiss at the contact. She gripped his penis and stroked him, picking up the pace as she went. Klaus grabbed her wrist, stalling her movements.
“I want to be inside you.” His tone was rough and harsh, causing Caroline’s arousal to seep down the inside of her legs. She lifted up on her knees ever so slightly, giving Klaus enough room to align himself with her entrance. Slowly, Caroline lowered herself down on top of him; seething him into her heat completely. “Fuck Caroline.”
“That’s the general idea.” She braced her hands on his shoulders and began raising herself up and down on top of him. The feel of him, sliding in and out of her was a feeling she missed the last few weeks. Ever since Caroline had concrete proof of Stefan’s affair, it was harder for her and Klaus to meet; Stefan’s paranoia driving him to do drastic things to protect his secret. But, the feel of Klaus fucking her was worth the wait. “God, I love you.”
“And I you.” Klaus’s hand reached down between her legs to touch her clit again. Caroline cried out his name, loudly. She began to ride him faster and faster, chasing that relief. His name slipping from his lips like a prayer. The sound of the honking horns of New York’s traffic fell away and she could care less if Klaus’s driver knew exactly what they were doing in the back of the limo. All that mattered was finding that release. “Klaus!”
Klaus felt her walls clench around him, sending him spiraling. His release came hard; spilling himself inside her. Caroline let out a long breath and rested her forehead against his. Slowly, once their hearts stopped beating rapidly, Caroline moved off of him and into the seat next to them. Klaus tucked himself away into his trousers while Caroline pulled a handkerchief from her purse to clean the inside of her thighs. She shifted in order to drape her legs over his lap and Klaus immediately began drawing small circles on her skin; sharing smiled between them as he did.
Soon enough the limo pulled to the side of the curb and the driver knocked.
“I suppose that this is my stop.”
“You’ll be safe?”
“Don’t worry.” Caroline leaned over and kissed him gently. “Damon is in a board meeting tonight” which was code for murdering someone “while Stefan and Elena are probably at the house fucking each other while I’m out spending Stefan’s money. By the time they realize I’m home, I’ll be in my bubble bath, drinking a nice glass of Pinot Grigio. Bags and bags of my shopping spree littering my room.”
“Thinking of me I hope, while you’re all naked and wet.” Klaus’s eyes traveled over the length of her and Caroline just giggled. She leaned up and kissed him, before grabbing her purse on the floor. Klaus grabbed her wrist before she could open the door. “Soon Caroline.”
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