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multifandomfanatic02 · 2 months

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"My Little Partner in Crime."

pairing : father!Alastor x daughter!reader

synopsis : you spent nearly 80 years by your father's side without him knowing who you truly were. Don't you think it's about time you told him the truth? Would he despise you?

warnings : weep bitches.

word count : 3,106

It had been 76 years since she had passed. Yet she remained in the body of a 15 year old girl. In hell, of course no one aged. Not many child sinners were often found in Hell but she was special. While she wasn't an overlord, she was a brilliant mind behind one.

In life, [Y/N] felt she had been misplaced in the world. So many terrible things had happened at such a young age. She got by though. Through learned methods and maybe a little bit of her genes had helped too.

She was orphaned at the age of 10 years old. Father died before she was born and mama fell severely ill when she was 10. It was an unfortunate circumstance for such a young child to be in, however it only got worse from there. After both parents had died, she ended up in a very poor fostering system. In which none of the children were treated right. It was so much worse for her.

[Y/N] was the daughter of an infamous serial killer in Louisiana. Which did not look good to potential foster parents. If her father was a fucking psychopath, what would she be like? In a way, they weren't far off in their speculations. And they proved to be right later on.

Her mother didn't find out about the love of her life's deeds until he was pronounced dead one eventful night. Gunshot to the head in the midst of burying his own victim. Regardless of what was said about the man, she still loved him all the years after before falling to her own demise. It wasn't like he was a crazed monster, in fact, he likely saved more people than he killed. He only went after the worst of the worst.

It was obvious that the man loved his wife more than life itself. More than his job. It saddened her knowing that he would never get to meet his daughter. Children were never planned or even talked about between the two considering sex was kind of a sensitive topic for the both of them and for different reasons. So the one time they decided to 'experiment' she ended up conceiving. Funny enough, 6 weeks later was when he died. Neither parents had knowledge of [Y/N] presence yet.

[Y/N] was scorned throughout the entirety of her foster community. Not for anything she did, no no. But for something her father did. No one wanted her. Regardless, she was happy that she was on her own in a way. Her 4 years in foster care were quite peaceful.

It wasn't until she was 14 that she had been finally picked out of the system. An old man, maybe in his fifties, had come to get her. The fostering system, not wanting her to continue her stay any longer, kept their dealings with him under wraps so everything stayed out of legal documents. [Y/N] wasn't adopted, no, she was to become his wife and to bear several of his children. Figures. What else would a man like him want in a child. Women were still known as the caretakers at the time. Nobody in this day and age was evolved like her father whom treated her mother like a queen when they were alive.

Thankfully it never got too bad before she decided to take her fate into her own hands. She was an avid reader. Her favorite things to read were the medical books found in her room when she was in the system. So she eventually learned a thing or two. It started off with a crushed pill in his drink every morning to stave off his libido. So he was never in the mood to touch her. (Don't ask where she gets the medication, it's a secret.)

Wearing him down slowly every day and night for the next year before his untimely death. An insulin overdose. It'd be like he died in his sleep. During an autopsy, no one would even know. She grinned ear to ear, feeling the man's pulse disappear from his neck. She took a breath before calling 911 in a faked panic tone. Convincing actually. "Hello? I n-need help. My husband isn't b-breathing, I think he may be dead. Please come save him! He can't die! I love him!" She managed to force tears from her eyes.

Ultimately, he did indeed pass away and she was finally on her own. I guess it wasn't a totally bad set up since his property, belongings, and money went to [Y/N]. It was short lived, unfortunately. All that money that went to ballrooms and jazz music. It was paradise and worth every penny she thought. Only to die at the age of 15 from an infected fox bite. (Random, right? Just like dad's lol)

[Y/N] had been in Hell for 76 years. She wasn't well known unlike her companion. Sticking to the man like glue after all this time. She worked well with the Radio Demon. Their minds complemented each other very well. Almost to a point of familiarity. When she first arrived in Hell, it was like she had made a big boom in the talk of the town. She was a mastermind and very talented at killing and pranks. It sparked a lot of the overlords' interest, especially since she wasn't interested in becoming an overlord herself. All she wanted was to enjoy her dark and very humorous afterlife. [Y/N] of course declined all their business proposals, even the famous Vox.

There was one she couldn't turn away from. He was charming and the two immediately had an unbreakable connection. The connection itself was unreadable but it was there nonetheless. He made a deal with her, promising absolute protection from the exterminators and other overlords and in turn she would help with his dealings. It was a fair trade, the Radio Demon was a bit impulsive with his actions while [Y/N] methodically planned all her own dealings 30 steps ahead. And with her being 15, well, she was thought to be an easy target.

It was actually strange, they look alike too. The same color scheme, same nose and eyes. Both shared that constant shit-eating grin and composure. The only difference between them being that he's an elk demon while she, a fox demon. It was literally just the tail, antlers, and hairstyle that set them apart.

Overtime, the radio demon, opened up to her piece by piece. Alastor, that was his name. It didn't take to long for her to come to the realization that he was in fact her beloved father that her mom talked about oh so much. It was clear. It wasn't just their appearance but mannerisms that were so similar. Her name being the same as his mothers surely didn't help either. He thought nothing of it. Alastor didn't know, he was too oblivious to anything that wasn't himself. And up to now, it never felt like the right time to tell him, so it's been a secret.

Turns out she wasn't the only one to have this realization. Carmilla Carmine along with many other overlords figured it out before even she. Carmilla being a mother herself felt empathy for her and talked to her whenever she needed it. Rosie found a deep love for [Y/N] herself, acting as a mother figure as well. The little darling was just like her bestie, Alastor, how could she not? Other overlords weren't as reasonable and often threatened to use the knowledge as a weapon against her. What would Alastor think? Did he ever want a child? Would he stray away from her if he found out? Often enough, the overlords who threatened her ended up without their lives by her hands by the end of the day.

Seventy-six years, Alastor had kept [Y/N] by his side every step he took. It wasn't until his powerful fight with Vox that he decided to step away. He disappeared for 7 years without notice. It broke her heart into a million pieces but just like before in life, she marched on and kept her promise to him.

It wasn't until news arrived in Pentagon city about this Hazbin Hotel that she'd heard Alastor's name after so long. He was working as the host of the hotel. It wasn't often [Y/N] showed emotion but this time she couldn't hold it in, tears streamed down her face. Her sturdy smile began to slowly break apart. It seemed her father was her weakness. While he didn't want to admit it, it was mutual. He left without saying a word to avoid seeing her disappointment in those little eyes of hers. He didn't want her see him so weak. In a way, he subconsciously felt he had some kind of responsibility over her.

The walk to the hotel was nerve-wracking for [Y/N]. Seeing him after all this time felt bittersweet. She was excited of course but she was awfully upset about his random disappearance.

Knock, knock, knock

The Princess of Hell had opened the door, to her surprise to see a red and black fox demon with a huge smile on her face. Charlie was suddenly having a flash of deja vu. Where else has she seen this before? In any case, it wasn't the most obvious thing to pop out at her. This girl was a child. There shouldn't be a child in Hell, whose cruel idea was it to send her down here Charlie thought.

"Princess Charlotte, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is [Y/N]." She bent down pulling her dress between her fingers to greet her.

"Just call me Charlie! It's nice to meet you too! Are you here to stay in the hotel? If so we would love to have you here with us. Especially someone as cute as you." Charlie reached out to pinch the young demon's cheeks before composing herself.

"I actually am, among other things. I was hoping I could be of service to you." Charlie sat questioning her proposal for a second.

"I'll gladly accept any help I can get but love, you are a child, don't you want to focus on going to heaven and get out of this place?" Charlie bent down to her level and took the girl's hands in her own.

"Don't let her age fool you, my dear. She is a very capable demon. In fact, better than most overlords I know." The familiar radio static voice tickled [Y/N] ears as Alastor materialized behind Charlie. He smiled genuinely as he held out his arms, waiting for her embrace. Tears suddenly streamed down as she ran into his arms. The two holding onto each other as if one of them would disappear forever.

"I apologize for my sudden departure, darling. I hope you know that I would never leave you willingly. It was the only way I could keep my side of the deal." He stroked her hair in attempt to calm her sobbing. She couldn't say anything, she had already forgiven him a while back. Alastor couldn't do anything to make her hate him.

"Alastor aren't you going to introduce us? Who's this sweet thing?" Angel dust walked to the doors to join him and Charlie. The rest of the sinners in the lobby following suit.

"I guess you could say she is my partner in crime. This little darling has been by my side for nearly 80 years. I owe a lot of my victories to her truth be told." Everyone stood around confused, expecting a different answer. There's absolutely no way she could JUST be his partner they look too much ali-

"Al, is that.. is that all she is?" [Y/N] sent vaggie daggering eyes as a warning not to continue her statement. Getting the hint, Vaggie backed off and went to sit on the couch in the center of the room. "Nevermind, forget I said anything."

"Hey [Y/N], it's been a few months. How you holding up. Still getting into trouble I hear." Husk gives the fox demon some pats on the head.

"It's nice to see you again Husker, I would like to thank you for looking out for me these past few years." Her grin grew looking up at the fluffy demon.

"Just doing what the boss told me." Alastor often had souls he was contracted with look after her in his absence. There wasn't much he could do, but knowing she was safe and sound and thriving eased his cold heart. It wasn't often he found himself tied to someone. But there he was, worried for the safety of someone else. A child no less. It took a while to understand his feelings but he eventually did accept it. He cared about someone other than himself.

Introductions to the residents went smoothly, all of them having such lively personalities she thought. What an amazing new family to have. Besides missing Mama, this was much better than what she had in life ironic as it is.

The times were changing and everything felt still, peaceful. [Y/N] had an amazing new family and business. Angel Dust being like an amazing big brother and Charlie like an amazing older sister. However the biggest change was how close she got to Alastor. He insisted her bedroom be near his radio tower so he could watch over her. It was so out of character for the residents that have only known him since he joined the hotel staff.

She was back to being glued to his hip. Her charm helping to gain more residents with her adorableness. It brought on a whole lot of business deals for the feared radio demon as well. Everything was perfect. Something still weighed on [Y/N]'s heart. Alastor needed to know the truth. Why the two of them have such a strong connection. And why they can't seem to ever let each other go. It's not something easily brought up in conversation. Thankfully, luck was on her side one day during one of their business outings.

"So.. do we have a deal?" Alastor held his hand out to damaged overlord. The enemy's eyes flickered over to the fox demon, causing a distraction. Long enough for his partner to sneak a gun to the young girl's temple. Her composure stabled, a smile creeping on her face.

"Before I agree to this deal, you are going to hear me out. Or my partner here will end the little girl's life. And you'll be pickingup brain matter off the ground." Alastor's eye twitched, returning his hands to the top of his cane. His expression eased back into his typical smile, seeing her unfazed by the imminent threat.

"Fine. What do you want?" The man smiled seeing Alastor accept his conditions.

"[Y/N]. I want the girl." The Radio Demon's breath hitched in his throat upon hearing the request. Never. Never in a million years, he thought. "You see that BITCH had me killed. Secretly drugging me for a year. Didn't think I would have noticed, huh? She never payed for it, she never had to answerfor her crime. Got her out of that shithole of a foster care and this is what I get?"

He forcibly grabbed the collar of her prim and proper dress, picking her up to his face. Her ears folded to the back of her head, scowling at the man now. "You were going to make me a child bride."

"You are a woman. You do what I say. If you don't accept my proposal, I'll tell daddy here your little secret. Won't he be surprised." Her eyes turned red at his words, both her and Alastor, in his demon form, shoving an arm through the man's chest in unison. All he felt in that moment was fear, dying for a second time.

It took a second for the man's words to process in Alastor's head. Secret? What secret? He didn't want to pry but it was obviously tearing [Y/N] up inside. Her expression said it all. All he wanted was to know she was okay. It was time to let him know. And whatever decision he made, she was going to be okay with.

"There's something I need to tell you."

"Darling, you don't have to tell me anything if you are not comfortable. That fuck was just trying to get under your skin." And it worked.

"No. You need to know." [Y/N]'s lip began to quiver in fear. Scared she was suddenly going to be a disappointment. How could she keep this a secret for so long. He had the right to know. Now. "My name is [first name] [Shared last name]. I.. I am your daughter."

The gears in his head turned as he tried to process the new information. When something suddenly clicked in his head. The love of his life just before he died, was constantly sick and had been for a few weeks. Alastor had just thought she had a cold and constantly doted on her, trying to provide the best medicine he could.. hm.. find. She never took it thankfully. She was pregnant.

He hadn't thought about it before now but it has come to his attention that the reason why he cared for this child so much was because she reminded him of his wife. She was careful with every decision, she was always calm in every situation she's been in, and they both had that beautiful fire in their eyes. The fire that let everyone know that they weren't going to submit to nobody. The dynamic between him and his wife wasn't much different from the dynamic between him and his daughter.

Why hadn't Alastor seen it before. [Y/N] was obviously named after his mother. The girl was literally his mini me. He couldn't help but let a tear or two drop from his eyes before bending his knees to look at her at her level.

"Tell me... what uh. What happened to your mother?" Alastor held the girl's cheek in his hand caressing it gently and wiping away her own tears, slightly smearing the blood on his hand.

"Mama died of the influenza virus when I was 10. I'm sure she's in Heaven, having the time of her life." Alastor pulled his daughter into a tight embrace, never wanting to let go.

"After all this time, I've had a precious piece of her with me. And I won't ever leave you alone again."

A/N: Yall let me know if you liked this concept, this was fun to do. I know it's kind of out of character for Alastor but I hope it healed something in y'all with daddy issues 🙏

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honey-flustered · 2 months

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Along For The Ride (Part 1 of 2)

MDNI +18 Only!!

Farmer!Older!Beefy!Eddie Munson/ Mean!Bougie!Fem!Reader

Summary: A drunken joyride leads you in the midst of Eddie Munson, who’s seeking repayment for the damages made to his property by you. Fed up with your constant misbehavior, your father makes a deal with Eddie in which you will do some manual labor around his farm in exchange. You’re not too pleased with this arrangement and your differences in personalities lead to a clashing of heads…and tongues?? (8.5k words)

A/N: I have not written in ages. It is really tough being a writer with the pressures I place on myself to be perfect, to gain more likes and followers, to write things as quickly as possible. I’m learning to fall in love with writing again. It’s a slow process but someday I’ll be able to share all the great things I’ve been working on for the past year. Anyway, here is my start to starting my journey again and thank you all for supporting me.

CW: fluff and lots of angst, enemies to friends to lovers trope, SLOW BURN, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), mean!affluent!reader, bad girl reader, light smut/eventual heavy smut, bratty!reader, ugly duckling turned swan trope, reader character development, mean friends, minor canon events from tv series (chrissy death, eddie accused of chrissy and other victims deaths), limited knowledge of farm life and work, drunk driving, consumption of marijuana and alcohol, committing of property crimes, return of reader’s ex, mentions of insecurities, descriptive and graphic language, lots of sexual tension, kissing, dry humping, eddie cums in his pants

You bellow out the lyrics to Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Getting Back Together” along with your three friends, not a care in the world for who would be unfortunate enough to hear you in the chilly 3 am evening. The girls pass around a bottle of tequila when your best friend, Tana, —seated in the passenger seat— attempts to pour a shot into your mouth.

“Babe, no. I drank enough at the club. The guy that asked for my number was practically throwing them at me. I had to kill a plant by pouring my drinks onto the poor thing. Men ruin everything.” You pout.

“Amen to that, sis,” Tana says, snapping her fingers. “Had a guy tell me that he thinks I’m the one for him. Turns out, he’s married with a baby on the way.”

You all playfully point your index fingers to your tongues, faking gags before leading into a giggling fit.

“I had a guy ghost me because he didn’t like me sharing my selfies on social media. Said that ‘they should only be exclusive to him’.” Your friend, Essie, shares.

“I feel like we need to get back at men for the shit they put us through,” Brooke chimes in. “I’m in the mood to make a man fall to his knees, whimpering for mercy.”

“You kinky little minx!” You laugh. “Are you trying to make men pay or are you trying to get laid?”

“Can it be both?” Brooke says, biting her acrylic-donned thumb.

“I say…” Tana calls attention to herself, raising a hand. “We choose a random house on this street to wreak our vengeance. One of the homes has to belong to a man.”

“I’m in!” Essie beams.

“Me too.” Brooke says, high fiving Tana for her devious plan.

“I don’t know, guys,” You say, reluctant to rain on their parade. “We’re pretty drunk but I don’t think we’re drunk enough to want vandalism charges. Let’s just go to one of those rage rooms and let out all this pent up energy. We could scream out female rage lines from our fave movies and break shit.”

“That’s…okay but it’s not as epic as Tana’s idea,” Essie says, leaning forward to be in better earshot range. “Come on, y/n. It’s only for tonight. You know, we’re just having some harmless girl time fun. It’s not like we’ll be breaking and entering. We’re just gonna do some silly stuff then leave. Pleeaaase. I just broke up with my boyfriend. I need this.”

You take a quick glance at the girls who all send big, puppy eyes your way. You sigh then laugh. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

They cheer at your response, knowing that they’ve won. You raise a hand to cease their cheers and they quickly go dead silent. “Since, I’m the most sober one here. We’re doing this my way,” While staring at the road ahead, a smirk slowly spreads across your face. “I get to choose the place.”

——————

The four of you sneak onto the open field, tiptoeing through the tall grass. Based on the smell wafting in the air, you are certain there are barn animals nearby.

With a nasal tone in her voice from holding her nose, Tana says, “Ugh, how could anyone work around this icky smell?”

“Shhh,” You order, putting a finger to your lips. “If we need to be quiet if this is going to be a successful in and out mission. Do you remember the plan?”

“How could I forget? It’s the most basic prank ever.” Tana whisper-yells, holding up the two rolls of toilet paper in her hands.

“It’s still a huge pain to the homeowner,” You defend confidently before letting out a wicked giggle. “He will be so inconvenienced when he wakes up in the morning.”

Tana shakes her head lovingly at you before peering to her right and left. “Umm, y/n, where’s Essie and Brooke?”

Your eyes widen as you unintelligibly peer to your right and left as well despite knowing the space is empty. “Oh shit,” You facepalm. “How could we have let them out of our sight? Who knows what those morons are doing?”

“Hew we awe,” Essie carries a ‘baby talk’ inflection as she materializes from the dark bluish night with a medium-sized pig cradled in her arms. “Evwyone meet Wilbur.”

“I’m sorry but where the hell did you get that pig?!” You say, no longer able to keep your voice to a whisper.

“The barn, obviously.” Brooke replies.

“What happened to not breaking and entering?! I take my eyes off you two for a second and you’ve already broken a handful of crimes.” You scold.

“But we’re saving him, y/n. You don’t want this pig to become bacon, do you?” Essie says, holding up the pig near your face only for it to wiggle out of her grasp and take off running.

“We’ve gotta catch that stupid fucking pig!” You yell and the girls obey. The group comically chases the animal around, slipping and sliding through mud and crops. In the chaos, the pig makes contact with the toilet paper you’ve long abandoned, tossing it around with the help of the forceful winds to guide it all over the field.

You spot the pig approaching the door of a small blue cottage. You dive forward, fully immersed in the thick mud that soiled your white tank top and denim skirt and you cared little for this fact with your concerns focused on obtaining the pig in your arms. He squeals and whines against you as you plead for its compliance.

Suddenly the porch lights turn on, shining down on you like a spotlight. The door swings open and not long after you’re forced to look into the eyes of your prosecutor from the ground.

A rugged, older man with unruly, curls of brown hair cascading down his shoulders and the deepest brown eyes that are as large as buttons. The same eyes that were now staring down angrily at you.

“What the fuck?” He says through gritted teeth. It’s not until he sees the full extent of your wrath that he decides to emphasize his previous statement with a fury of a thousand suns. “What. The. Fuck!”

You swallow hard, releasing the pig as you collect yourself off the floor. The man feels no need to check whether his pet had entered the home safely, wanting his eyes to focus on you in case you tried running.

“I-I could explain. W-we were just—”

“We?” He abruptly interrupts, upholding the gruffness in his tone.

You were afraid that he’d say that. After all, those bitches were a little too quiet for your liking. After looking behind you to confirm their abandonment, you slowly face your prosecutor once again.

Swallowing the hard lump in your throat you begin, you try scrambling for an answer. This is already a very terrifying situation. This man looked terrifying himself. He’s robust in build, littered with tattoos, and had piercings. You don’t see men like him everyday or at all on your side of town. Men usually groomed themselves like ken dolls where you come from. But when you have come across men that look like him, the experience has always been a negative one—-only this time you were the one at fault.

“I’m sorry.” You shrug with an awkward smile then tack on a “Please don’t call the cops.”

He sighs deeply. “I’m not going to call the cops…”

“Oh, thank god.” You sigh in relief, a hand to your beating chest.

“You’re going to call your parents,” He finishes. “And you are going to tell them that we’re going to come up with a solution for this or I will be calling the police.”

“Oh, fuuuck.” You groan.

————-

“I’m so very sorry, sir. Truly,” Your father says after profusely apologizing for the 7th time since his arrival. “She’s been acting out a lot ever since she’d gone away to university. My wife and I don’t know this girl but she is not the y/n we raised.”

You roll your eyes at the comment, texting away at your friends who wanted to know the details of your capture. Meanwhile, you’re too busy cursing them out to care about how badly you’ll be punished for this.

“I’m just glad things didn’t get any worse or when someone could’ve seriously ended up getting hurt.” The farmer says, staring pointedly at you.

“Now I was thinking…though I could very well pay for the trouble and we could be out of your hair, I’m a man that likes to go above and beyond when it comes to taking responsibility. My daughter’s exceedingly aware of this fact about myself,” Your father scoots his seat up closer to the table, fingers together as if proposing a business plan. “It appears that you might need some temporary assistance in tending to your farm work. If you’re looking for an extra set of hands to help with some manual labor for the next two weeks, my daughter is happy to oblige.”

“Excuse me!” You say, attention fully invested in the conversation. “Tell me you're joking.”

“Nope. You are grounded. Meaning that though you are visiting for spring break, you are currently under my roof, my rules. I am still your parent after all. To clarify, there will be no going out with your friends. You are to come straight to

Mr. Munson’s farm every day after your time at your mother’s shop. You’ll help the gentleman around with whatever he asks of you.” Your father explains.

“And what if I don’t?” You ask, defiant.

“Then you’ll be cut off and you’ll have to earn money on your own.”

“Y-you m-mean a j-job?” You ask, horrified.

“Exactly.” Your father confirms.

You stare wide-eyed at farmer Munson who has a prominent smirk on his face. “I like the sound of that, sir. You’re a good man.”

You shriek in anger. “You’re the worst!”

You furiously stomp out of the home, hating your life and men once again.

————

Your father had no doubts that you’d be going to work on the farm once he’d threaten to take away your (his) money. When you arrive at the address, you’re immediately reminded how you're not on your side of town anymore. It’s officially Hickville.

Reluctantly knocking on the door, you hope that Eddie won’t answer the door, praying that he’s changed his mind and took the money instead. Unfortunately, he answers the door with a huge smile in contrast to your deadpan demeanor.

“Oh, come on, lighten up, sugar. I made some of my famous iced tea ahead. One taste and it’ll all seem worth it.”

“It’s not fair!” You rant, pushing passed him. “Why am I being the only one punished? This was all Brooke’s idea. And Essie was the one who stole the goddamn pig.”

“His name is Wilbur,” Eddie corrects. “And who are we talking about exactly?”

“Doesn’t matter,” You sigh. “Bad things always happen to good people.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie says, staring you down.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You really think you’re the victim in all of this?”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we check out the lovely view of the TP’d trees blowing in the wind?” He asks sarcastically, gesturing to his window.

“It’s just a little toilet paper. Never had a little prank done on you.”

“Wow,” He feigns a smile, shaking his head at you. “Your audacity to diminish all the negative things you’ve done to me into the spirit of good fun is astounding.”

“My therapist did always say I have a knack for looking at things on the bright side.” You retort.

“Is that so?” He asks mockingly. “Well then, you’re gonna love this special job I have for you.”

—————

Which leads you to the situation you’re in now. You’re staring into the eyes of a cow whose large brown eyes kind of reminded you of farmer Munson except they actually held kindness in them and not pure disdain.

“There’s no way I’m milking this thing. I have no idea how to do that,” You say, prompting Eddie to raise a suggestive eyebrow at you. “You know what I mean, pervert.”

Suddenly, an idea clicked in your head. Maybe you could use this ‘pervert’ thing to your advantage. He’s obviously single or he wouldn’t be this much of a crab. You can easily seduce him and get out of doing anything!

“Mr. Munson,” You say with a purr in your voice as you press yourself up against him. “I’m actually really good at milking other things after all. You’ve got me pegged at that. Maybe…I can show you just how skillful my mouth and hands can be for you.”

He laughs. He fucking chuckles in your face. How fucking dare he?! “That was rich. Seriously, that performance was just…moving. You can try to sway me with sex all ya want, hun. Trust me there are women and men who’ve tried,” He slightly narrows the gap between your faces, staring you down. “I don’t buckle under that kinda pressure, sugar. It’ll take a lot more than salacious words to make my dick jump. Now why don’t we go back to the task at hand, shall we?”

You’re fuming. This asshole really thinks he can get away with making you out to be a fool. Well, two could play that game. You’re going to make his existence for the next two weeks feel like a total nightmare.

He seats you on a small stool beside the cow before instructing you on how to milk her. You halfheartedly reach for an udder, shrieking at the feel of it between your fingers.

“This is so gross!” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m going to disassociate and imagine that I’m in a niche boutique in Manhattan.”

“Ah, spending daddy’s money even in your dreams. How thoughtful.” He mutters.

“You have no right to judge me just because you think I’m privileged.” You snap.

“I don’t ‘think’ you’re privileged. You are privileged. See the difference?”

You tug on an udder, purposefully targeting him as the milk drenches him. His face puckers his face before staring daggers at you.

“Oops.” You say in a sickeningly sweet tone.

——————

You begrudgingly enter your house key into the doorknob, body aching from the day's work. The moment you enter, your father’s happy-go-lucky spirit engulfs you and it takes everything in you not to explode.

“Hey, honey, how was your first day?”

“Question, father,” You begin, calling him the formal term instead of “papa” or “dad”. “Do you love me?”

“Now what kind of silly question is that?” He reverts back with his own question, befuddled.

“I’m just curious because I don’t think a father who truly loves their daughter would ever put her through the kind of hell I just went through today.” You respond.

“You milked a cow,” Your teenager brother, Aspen, enters the dining room before beginning a dramatic act. “Someone save the poor girl! She’s gaining new life experiences! You are such primadonna.”

“Shut up, ya little twerp.” You say, pulling his hoodie over his face.

“Your brother’s right, dear,” Your father says. “You are being really dramatic. I don’t get it. You never used to be this way. You loved reading books and conducting personal science experiments and geeking out over your favorite movies—”

“That just isn’t me anymore, dad. The sooner you accept that, the better it is for us all.” You grumble.

He decides to drop the topic in favor of keeping the peace for the dinner your mom prepared for the family to enjoy as a unit. But your mind couldn’t help but to wander back to those times where you were seen as a nerd and bullied for being different and having different interests. University was a different story though. There, you were able to reinvent yourself into the hot bad bitch you know today.

But why is it that your father’s words resonated so much with you? Had it been because it wasn’t the makeover or the new friends and partners you’d make along the way…it was the fact that he knew that you, yourself, couldn’t believe your own act. He knows that you're lying to yourself about liking the person you’ve become. No way could ever admit such a thing to him. And it’s not like you’d feel this way forever. Once you’re done with this hell labor with Eddie “The Devil” Munson, you can go back to your popular life.

————

The routine continued including your constant pushback. It went: shadowing your mother for the day with her bridal clients, heading over to the Munson farm soon after, non stop bickering between the two of you for 2 hours, then heading back home to soak your aching body and curse out the world.

Today is no different with the task of you grooming the stupid pig that got you into this mess in the first place.

“Wilbur. His name’s—”

“I know!” You shout at him, gathering the metal pail and wooden brush from the table. You grumpily made your way to the backyard of the home in search of the shed supposedly carrying the soap to clean the pig. When you notice Wilbur rushes out of a trailer home stationed in the backyard. “Hey, get back here!”

The pig is long gone and you don't care to chase after it once your interest is piqued by the mystery home in the backyard. Searching around to make sure there were no signs of Mr. Munson, you enter the place cautiously.

It’s as if the trailer had been stuck in the 1980s. Everything is vintage and old looking but also well kept. You see photos of the younger Eddie Munson scattered around the walls of the home and—-though you hate to admit it—he was just as handsome as he is now. In some of the photos including one pinned to the fridge by a magnet, you can see an older man. Maybe his father.

Your eye catches an old poetry assignment also pinned to the fridge with a large ‘C+’ above it. A little note at the top explaining his grade being contributed to some misspellings and some inappropriate language despite the good work.

You raise the paper to your eyes and read:

If I Were A Hobbit

If I were a hobbit, I’d be so free

I’d frolic in the grass and smoke some trees

With furry feet and a merry heart

From adventure’s call, I’d never depart

With Bilbo’s tales, I’d while away time.

In the beautiful land of Middle Earth’s rhyme

I’d wander the fields beneath the sun

I’d travel it world cause it’s all in good fun

If I were a hobbit, maybe I wouldn’t get laid

But, hey, it’s goddamn worth the price I paid

You giggle, amused at how fun Mr. Munson had been long ago. You wonder what could’ve happened. Immersed in the poem, you were unaware of his arrival until he whispered haughtily into your ear.

“We’re continuing the trend of breaking and entering, I see.”

You jolt away, facing him. “I-I’m sorry. But you said that I had to look for a shed. Should be more specific.”

“This looks like a shed to you, sugar?”

“Trailer…shed…it’s no different.”

He chuckles dryly. “You are a piece of work.”

“Look who’s talking? You know, you seemed a lot more fun when you were a teenager.” You comment, holding up the poem.

“Give me that,” He yanks from your hands, placing it back on the fridge. “Ain’t anyone ever tell you it’s wrong to go snooping around people’s things. Wait, who am I kidding? I met your father. Even if he were to have taught you these things, you’d probably go against him.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” You hiss.

“Right back atcha, sweetheart.” He retorts.

“Then, I hope you don’t mind if I continue to do so.” You say, pushing past him to go into the hallway.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, hot on your trail.

You enter a bedroom and it’s another blast from the past. The typical kind of teenage boy bedroom. It’s no shock to you that he's a metalhead. You begin to rummage through his collection.

“You little brat,” He huffs. “I’m too old to be dealing with this shit!”

“Live a little,” You say, popping in a blues cassette into the radio. “Dance with me.”

He stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed as you begin to dance in circles around him. Your boot kicks up a newspaper article crumpled up on the ground and you go to retrieve it, ignoring Eddie’s protests.

It is an article about 15 years ago that expresses Eddie Munson’s exoneration in the death of Chrissy Cunningham and him receiving only a $50,000 settlement. It also goes into detail that his only known immediate family and caretaker, Wanye Munson, had died just a month before his release.

“Oh my god, Mr. Munson. I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” You trail off, knowing what to say or even where to begin.

“It’s all in the past now,” He sighs. “Besides, I’m fine now. I still have my friends. They are like family. They’ve got their own lives but when they can they check on me. That’s more than enough.”

Without thinking, your arms curl around his body and for the first time you get to feel his body against yours and it’s addicting. He tenses for a moment, unsure whether this is okay but eventually he melts into your embrace.

His beefy arms cradle you, a large hand resting atop your head. Your heartbeats fall in sync with one another’s and you allow yourself the brief moment to nuzzle into his chest, the chest hairs peeking above his tank top tickles the tip of your nose.

You dare to look him in the eyes, seeing them already looking down at you. They were wet with unshed tears, pleading with you for something. It’s the first time you’ve seen that look on his face and like a magnet you're drawn to it. You’re suddenly moving on your own accord, tiptoeing to brush your nose against his. He lowers his face to your level. Your lips are only a mere centimeters from his full ones when the sound of his phone ringing takes you both out of the moment.

He’s quick to pull away as if freed from an intense spell. Excusing himself, he leaves the room and heads outside. You’re left standing in the room alone, the soft, rhythmic melody of blues playing in the background.

Willing yourself to cool down, you decide to go on with your original task and find Wilbur while hoping it’ll shake off the electric feeling he left on your skin.

————————-

Bathing the pig proved to be quite the distraction because this little shit is making you use all your brain power to keep it still. Having stripped into just your bikini and rainboots, you held the pig for dear life as you washed and scrubbed at him and practically yourself.

You notice Eddie from the corner of your eye, stifling laughter as he leaned against a nearby tree.

“By the way, I’ve already washed off all the barn animals, tended to my crops, and was able to make myself a sandwich in the meantime. You, however, you’re still working on Wilbur. Or should I say, he’s working you.”

“Hardee har har,” You say, unamused. “Will you just help me with this pig?”

“Alright, alright,” He says, heading over to you. The pig immediately jumps from his grasp and into your arms. “It’s all in the technique.”

“Easy for you to say. He already knows you.” You grumble.

“Now what you’re gonna want to do is come up behind him. He's a big fella so in order to hold him down you’ll need to straddle him like this and place your hands down firmly on his back. That way he’ll know to stay put,” Eddie says getting into position, his boots digging in the dirt for some leverage. “He’ll tussle with ya a little but it’s only because he’s not used to being handled by other humans. He’s still a little frantic with me even after all these years. I saved him from the slaughterhouse so it comes with the territory.”

“You mean you weren’t going to turn him into bacon?”

“No, sugar, Wilbur’s family. Now get up on here with me. Don’t put too much of your weight on him. Only just enough to hold him down.” He instructs.

You follow suit, straddling the pig and placing your hands over Eddie’s before looking back over your shoulder at him. “Like this?”

“Just like that, sugar. You’re a natural. See? Now I’m just gonna go ahead and get up and you’ll take the—”

“What? No, don’t leave me! He’ll just shake me off again.” You protest.

Sure enough, the pig began to shake the both of you off its back, side to side until you both fell back into the soil. You fall right into Eddie’s lap and he instinctively grips your hips hard, causing you to let out a yelp and scramble out of his grasp.

You sat on your knees, looking at him with wide eyes and he returned with the same expression. The blush on his face intensifies and you follow the way his hands rush to pull the cowboy hat from his head to hold against his lap.

He quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat.

“You’ve got—erm, your bikini bra…” You’ve never seen him so flustered. So speechless. You eish you could relish in it but when you realize exactly what he’s insinuating, you feel your cheeks begin to heat up as you wish the world will swallow you whole.

Your tit is hanging out for the world to see. A fucking nipple slip! Why did God cease at nothing to make you the butt of every joke?

You briskly adjust your bra, shaking in your boots. The itching desire to run heavy on your mind.

“I-I s-should go,” Your shaky legs somehow allow you to stand as you peer down at him. “Have a good evening, Mr. Munson.”

You stiffly power walk your way to the small cottage home to gather your discarded clothes on the porch. Eddie’s large hand rests on your shoulder.

“Wait! I can’t send you off like this. You’ll track mud in your car.”

“It’s not like I haven’t done that before.” You scoff.

“Why don’t you shower here and I’ll offer you some fresh clothes? I’ll be making my stir fry in case you're hungry.”

“You being nice to me all of a sudden, Mr. Munson?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t help but think there’s some kind of hidden agenda.”

He smiles a genuine 100-watt smile. “No, sugar. I’m just extending some needed hospitality is all.”

—————

You pull on the long sleeved t-shirt Eddie offered you, studying its logo. A horned demon, swords, dice and so on.

“It’s my old high school club t-shirt.” He says, coming to sit beside you on the couch.

“You were in a Dungeons and Dragons club?”

“You know D’N’D?”

“Know it?! I loved that game.” You say, excitedly.

“I didn’t think kids in your generation still played that game.” He laughs.

“Oh, yeah,” You nod. “I was a dungeon master. My campaigns were fire. Anyone who’d joined my games would always go around telling their friends to come see me in action.”

“No way! I was a dungeon master, too! I took it a little too seriously at times but it was like my second passion,” He looks you up and down. “I would have never thought someone like you would be into that kinda stuff.”

“I’ll ignore your sly comment to clarify that I wasn’t always like this back in high school.”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Well, you heard my dad. I used to be a goody two-shoes. A nerd. And I even dressed the part, too. The old me would’ve totally geeked at your Hobbit poem. I’m different now though.”

“What’s so wrong about being a nerd?” He inquires, scooting closer to you.

“I used to get bullied everyday. Boys would ignore me. Even the geeks would only ever see me as a friend. When I got to university, that all changed. Everyone wanted me.”

“I think if I’d known you then, we’d probably be good friends.”

“Yeah right. I seemed like the bad boy type who falls for the cheerleader. You wouldn’t have looked twice in my direction.”

“No,” Eddie says firmly, staring you intensely in the eyes. “I would see you.”

He repeats for emphasis. “I see you.”

You swallow the hard lump in your throat, choking back tears. You’ve never felt so vulnerable. It’s strange to be so open with a man who 5 days ago you would have choked with your bare hands.

“Besides,” He says, breaking the silence. “I think it’s you who would have ignored me. I’m not the bad boy you think I am. Sure, I was a bit of a troublemaker here and there. But I was a huge geek, too. Hadn’t even lost my virginity until age 36. A year after my release. No girl wanted to fuck me back in high school. I was ‘the freak’. To some people today, I still am one regardless if I’m innocent.”

“I would’ve believed you’re innocent. I’d have been by your side, too. Us, geeks, have to stick together, yeah?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”

There’s that magnetic pull again. The attraction that makes you want to be as close to him as possible. You resist not wanting to make that move again but he takes the initiative, leaning in further only this time you're interrupted once again with the sound of your phone ringing. You throw a silent fit in your head. Eddie’s just as frustrated, expelling a long duration of air from his nose.

“Hello.” You say, answering the phone.

“Hey, baby,” A familiar voice says on the line. “It’s been months. I still think about our time in Venice and this spring fever is only making it harder to ignore.”

Now the memories come flooding in. It’s an ex-fling you met while studying abroad in Italy during your freshman year of university. The man who’d taken your virginity and showed you the ropes to popularity. The moment you left Italy you expected him to call you back but he immediately ghosted you. From then on, you became the maneater you are today.

“What do you want?”

You, of course. I hear you are back in your hometown. Luckily for you, I am doing some research here and I was wondering—-“

“Luckily for me? Are you on drugs, Stefan? I don’t care if you want me. You could forget my number and then you’ll forget me. Have a goodnight.” You quickly hang up the call, ignoring his pleas.

“Is everything alright?” Eddie asks, noticing the way you’re hyperventilating.

“I am now,” You sigh. “That was my ex. He was also my first. He treated me like shit made me feel stupid and like I needed him as if he created me. And back then, I felt like I did need him. Then he ghosted me. It felt good to give him a piece of my mind although I wish I could have said more.”

“I think you said enough. I’m certain you hit him where it hurts.” He laughs.

“I should probably go.” You say, standing up from the couch to grab your coat.

“What happened to staying for dinner?” He asks.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Munson”

“Eddie. You can call me Eddie.”

“Eddie,” You say, testing his name on your tongue. You’re not exactly sure if you’re ready to be this informal with him despite your almost kisses and the boob slip incident. “I’m sorry but his call has left me shaken. I think I need to be in the company of my girls.”

“You mean, the girls who got you into trouble and left you behind? The ones your parents warned you to stay away from?”

“Come on, dude, I need this. It’s not like you can give me great advice about guys.”

“I could. Considering I am one.”

“Well, I don’t think we’re close enough for that kind of session.”

“We just had this whole heart to heart. I thought we were seeing some improvement in our friendship.” Eddie says.

“We’re friends?”

“Us, geeks, stick together?”

“That’s just an oath. Doesn’t exactly confirm a friendship between us.”

He exhales deeply, trying to contain his anger. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I tell your father about your little hangout.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Your eyes narrow at him.

“That would suggest that I’d be getting anything of value out of this which I wouldn’t be. Therefore, no this isn’t blackmail but it is definitely a threat. I don’t care if we’re friends. I don’t care to be your friend, sugar. But as the more responsible adult between us, I think it’s within our best interest that you don’t hang out with the people who cause you to commit crimes. So, I think I’ll be taking you home, hmm?”

“And what about my car?”

“I’ll take good care of it for tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for your next job.” He smiles smugly.

If looks could kill, he’d be 7 feet under and you’d already be in hell.

————

Eddie pulls up to the front of your house. The whole ride there had been silent. You angrily gather your things, hurriedly trying to exit his van.

“Have a goodnight, sugar!” He shouts as you slam the door in his face.

Once you’re inside, you do the routine process of angrily ranting out your annoyance with farmer Munson while stomping angrily up the stairs. Your family used to this by now simply goes about business as usual.

You dial up Tana and after a couple rings she answers. “Hey, bitch! I was just about to text you the news. Did you hear who’s in town?”

“Yeah, Stefan, I know. How’d you know?”

“He's been calling me nonstop asking for you. Says he wants to talk to you.”

“I already did. Told him to fuck off,” You say. “And I thought I’d feel a lot better about it but I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I didn’t get to stomp on his weirdly-shaped small dick.”

“Oh, yeeahh. I remember the dick pic he sent you. It is weird, isn’t it? Like an undeveloped banana. Anywho…you wanna get high at my place and watch America’s Next Top Model reruns. I’ve got Jell-O shots.” She singssongs the last statement.

“I can’t remember. I’m on lockdown,” You sigh. “If I get into any more trouble or I might as well hand over a contract of my soul to the devil.”

“Bitch, you are a grown woman. These are the best years of our lives where we’re supposed to live it to the fullest. Sneak out! I’m coming over to pick you up.”

“Tana, n—” But she’s already hung up the call. Sometimes, you really hate this girl. With no choice, you’re forced to make a plan.

Firstly, you create a human-shaped pile in your bed, disguising it with your comforter. Next, you’ll be climbing out of your window and quietly land on your lawn. Finally, you enter your friend’s car and you’ll be homefree.

Although, the climb is a lot more daunting than you anticipated. It seemed like a lot of a higher jump from where you are standing. Tana’s car pulls in and she rushes out to jump up and wave, whisper-yelling to encourage you to do it.

“Tana, this is fucking crazy. You always make me do crazy shit.” You yell down at her.

“But it’s all for the sake of fun experiences.” She retorts. “Come on and jump. Be the bad bitch, you are. Think for a second. WWBD: What would Beyonce do?”

“She'd probably fire you as a friend.” You growl.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, I’m ready to jump. Just be ready to catch me.”

“What?” Before Tana could register what you meant, you jumped, hurtling into her arms and straight to the ground.

“Huh, that wasn’t so bad.” You smile.

“Yeah, because I’m the one breaking your fall.” Tana groans.

“Payback’s a bitch, love.”

—————

“So, is the farmer plowing your garden?” Tana asks, while applying mascara to your eyelashes.

“Tana!”

“What? That’s got to be the only reason you’re officially over Stefan.” She says.

“I was already over Stefan. Eddie’s just my headache.”

“You’re on first name bases with him. Oh, you are definitely fucking him.”

“I’m not!” You insist.

“And did you say Eddie? That’s the infamous Eddie Munson. How could I have not seen the connection? He’s so hot. Is that okay to say about a murderer?”

“He’s not a murderer.” You quickly defend him causing Tana to raise her hands in surrender.

“Yikes, I’m sorry I didn't mean to offend your friend.”

“He’s not my…well, he is. But…he’s not a murderer. He never killed her. I did some digging on the internet and this town used to be really strange back then. Not how it is now. I don’t know but the circumstances in all the deaths that happened back in ‘86 are all too weird. No human could do the things that I’ve seen done to those corpses.”

“Bummer. Guess we’ll never know who did it. I hear people who know of this case still harass him to this day. It’s no wonder he practically lives off the grid.” Tana sighs. A knock at her front door leads her away and you’re alone to ponder your thoughts.

An overwhelming need to comfort Eddie hits you as you thought back to the moment he’d asked you to stay for dinner. You assumed it was all a ploy to get into your pants but now you realize that he’d genuinely enjoyed the little company he’d gotten.

You hear Tana’s footsteps and a set of another coming up the stairs and before you could get a chance to tell her that you’ll be leaving, she enters the room with your ex.

“What the hell is this?” You sneer.

“I just thought maybe you should hear him out.” Tana says with an anxious smile.

“I’m out of here.” You say, grabbing your jacket from her bed.

“Where are you going? Your car’s not here.” Tana rushes down the stairs after you.

“I’ll walk!” You hiss over your shoulder, pulling the door open where you’re unfortunately met with the presence of your father, brother, and the devil himself.

“Mr. Munson? Dad? What the hell are you all doing here?”

“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Your father says.

Stefan steps out from behind you, handing you a piece of paper. “I can see that it is a bad time, mi cara. Please, call me when you can. It’s a new number since you’ve blocked my old one.”

With that, he acknowledges the men before him with a nod and leaves. It’s not lost on you that Eddie stares him down with a dirty look on his face before his eyes land back on you.

“If I could just explain...” You begin.

“No, y/n, I’m sick of your excuses. You sneak off at night to god knows where. You reek of pot and booze. Is this the type of example you want to set for your younger brother? He’ll be graduating next year. Should anticipate that his time in university will consist of lollygagging around instead of focusing on his career?”

You look over to your brother who, instead of carrying a smirk, he had a look of genuine concern for you.

“I was just having fun.”

“Is that all you can think about? When did fun require drugs and alcohol and committing crimes?! Fun for you used to be attending cosplaying conventions, not vandalizing properties and drunk driving.”

“Well, I’m not that anymore so you could fucking stop clinging to the past.” You yell.

Your father is taken aback and you could faintly see the waterline rising in his eyes. “Get in the car. Now!”

You shoot Eddie an angry look. “Us, geeks, stick together? Forget anything I ever said about believing in you.”

Your heart twinges at the shattered look on his face at your statement. No longer wanting to see the extent of your blow, you brush past him and follow your father’s command.

“As for you, young lady,” your father points to Tana. “I will be in touch with your parents regarding your misconduct.”

Tana’s mouth drops in complete shock at this revelation and for a moment you actually are proud of your dad.

————-

You plop yourself onto your bed, crying your eyes out. Not even really crying for yourself but for Eddie. How could you have been so cruel to him? All for the reason that he cares enough about you to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble. There’s no way he’d ever forgive you for the way you spoke to him.

A knock on your door calls to your attention. You reluctantly answer, knowing you’ll be getting yet another punishment. You’re surprised to find your brother, Aspen, at the door.

“What do you want, twerp?” You say.

“You should really apologize to dad. You made him cry. I’ve never seen him like that.” He says.

“I know. It’s just that I hate when people remind me that I was…a loser. I didn’t mean to be so awful to him, though.”

“You were never a loser. In fact, I used to think you were pretty cool. I wanted to be comfortable in my weirdness as you were. I’m happy that you’re finding yourself and all. But you don’t have to change who you are to appease anyone. Not even dad. It’s your life, sis. If you like drinking and partying, that’s okay. If you like reading nerdy books and cosplaying, that’s okay, too. As long as it’s something you want to do and not something you do to make people like you. So stop acting like you’re some psycho fembot that wants to spend the rest of her life in and out of jail.”

“Wow, Aspen, I’m impressed. I did not know you could speak incoherent sentences.” You tease, pulling him into a hug.

“Fuck off.” He laughs, struggling to free from your tight embrace.

————

The next day, after some time to think of your apologies. You began with your father. He admitted to you that he was scared of the thought of you growing up and not needing him and let’s just say that the two of you ended up bawling in each other’s arms and confessing your love and appreciation for one another by the end of it. Your busy event planner mother stumbled into the scene both heartwarmed and confused.

The next one is going to be a tough one for you. But you felt prepared with a handy long written note in your hand in case you needed to find the right words.

However, the moment you arrived on his farm and were met with the look of indifference on his face, you began to break down sobbing. Hard. The thought letter long abandoned to the ground.

His demeanor immediately softens, placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

“I-I’m s-so sorry….you…friend…mean…,” You gasp an unintelligible apology through your tears. “Bitchy…geeks…believe you…stupid pig Wilbur…never would have met a great man like youuuu.”

He gives you a small smile, pulling you into his embrace. “I know, I know.”

“Understand?” You ask.

“Yes, sugar. I understand what you said. Crystal clear.”

“Accept?”

“Yes, I accept your apology.” Eddie laughs.

“You don’t hate me?”

“I never hated you. Even when you’re being an annoying brat. ” He says.

“Good,” You sniffle, pulling away from him to wipe your tears and compose yourself. “I’m happy we’re friends again.”

“Friends? Who said anything about friends?” He quips before patting your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re friends again.”

“Now you could get to work and then later you can make me that stir fry that I've been dying to try.” You beam, skipping into his home.

“Only if you’re a good girl.” He challenges.

For the day, the two of you would groom the horses together. Of course, you were still quite jumpy and the bougie princess he knows you to be but it was nothing he didn’t find amusing about it anyway.

“You should seriously take a look at my note though. I really thought out all the things I had to say for you. My weeping apology was only the tip of the iceberg.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think anything in that note will top that moment but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Read it when you’re alone though. I don’t want to see your face when you read it.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you’ll be all smug about.” You say, rolling your eyes.

“And you say you hardly know me,” He chuckles then switches to a serious, gruff tone. “So…Stefan…he’s a looker. Thinking about going back on your word to end things with him.”

You laugh. “I’m playing it by ear. He says he’s changed but that’s every jerks’ favorite line.”

“Just let him know that if he ever hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.” He threatens.

You step into Eddie’s space, his face flushes at the close proximity. Your hand raises up to cradle his heated cheek. “You couldn’t hurt a fly, Edward Allan Munson.”

Lost in your eyes, he fails to notice you tug the joint nuzzled behind his ears. Until you raise it up to his face with a knowing smile. “You smoke weed?”

“Baby, I used to be a dealer. In fact, I still grow my own supply.”

“No way.”

“Oh yeah. Maybe I was the freak but those jocks and cheerleaders were begging for a piece of my supply.”

“You wouldn’t mind if we smoke this one together.” You suggest.

“After your father chewed you out for it last night?”

“He knows I do it. And I learned this morning, after our heart-to-heart, that he was once a pothead, too. And now that I know that you are also a pothead, not only does this confirm my personal theory that most people smoke weed but also this makes our friendship so much more interesting.”

“You’re starting to throw that whole ‘friendship’ word around a lot more enthusiastically now.”

“My friend’s a dealer. I’m going to take full advantage of that.” You loop your arm around his guiding him to an empty stable so you can both fall against the hay.

He picks the hay from his hair, laughing. “I don’t even have a lighter and the fumes are not safe for the animals.”

“Babe,” You say almost insulted. “I always carry a lighter. You never know when you’ll find yourself in an impromptu smoke session or possibly get lost in the middle of the woods. Besides, we released the animals into the field for their little recess. We’re the only animals left here. Just you and me.”

“Alright, fine I guess we’re doing this. Don’t tell your dad about this, though. This will just be a one time thing.”

“Mhm, yeah sure, bud,” You say nonchalantly, busying yourself with lighting the joint. You hand over the joint to him and he protests, wanting you to take the first hit. You oblige. “It’s your joint. Don’t you know the rules? The one who bringeth, smoke..eth.”

“You wanted it badly so I let you take it first.”

“I didn’t want it ‘badly’. I’m not a fucking addict,” You laugh, bellowing out a puff of smoke. “I just thought it’d be a nice bonding moment. Wanna see how you get when you’re high.”

“It’s nothing special. I’m the same as I am now.” He shrugs.

“You mean, ‘a stick in the mud’?”

He bumps you with his shoulder causing you to lay back against the hay.

“You jerk, I just pick all that out of my hair.”

“Serves you right. Now hand me the joint. You’re hogging it,” He tries to reach for it but you raise it above your head. “You’re such a tease.

He attempts to reach for it again, falling on top of you. His full weight on your body is so damn delicious it takes everything in you not to moan. It doesn’t help that the weed has heightened your senses making you feel EVERYTHING. The way his hot breath feels tickling your neck along with the way his curls on his head gently caress your skin as he reaches for the joint. He seems oblivious to the state he leaves you in even after he’s gotten it until he lets out a puff of smoke in the air then looks back down at you once again. It’s evident he can see the darkened lust in your eyes because of the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He suddenly feels so thirsty and it isn’t because of the weed.

Afraid a moment like this will be interrupted once again, you lunge forward attacking his lips. He’s caught fullg by surprise, a strangled moan swallowed up in your frenzied fit of passion. You’re the one controlling the kiss, forcing him to roll on his back so you can grind down on the sizable erection in his jeans. The friction from the fabric of your lace underwear and the rough denim of his jeans are an undefeated combination against your puffy clit, sending flood after flood of your wetness to pool between your legs.

The kisses are sloppy. Your hands are everywhere; in his hair, yanking his shirt for dear life. His hands cup your face before entwining in your hair then they’re around your neck, unable to keep them still because he’d like to feel every part of you just as you wish to do to him. Every so often growls would escape your lips as you grind harder and harder against him.

“Fuck, Eddie, you feel so fucking good.” You whisper desperately into his ear.

“So do you, sugar. Ain’t even inside you yet and I’m already about to blow.” He groans, sweaty forehead pressed against your own.

“Can I fuck you, Mr. Munson?” You plead.

And the whine Eddie lets out confirms that it won’t be happening anytime soon. You look between your bodies, seeing the dark, wet patch on his jeans then back up at him.

He’s obviously embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while.”

“That’s okay. Um, this was…this was really spontaneous.” You don’t immediately get off, wanting more and hoping he’d give you more so that he can make you cum, too.

Instead he grabs you by waist, lifting you off him in a hurry. “I’m sorry. I need to—-this was a mistake.”

And once again, he leaves you to your thoughts. All you could do is stare as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance, while you began to feel smaller and smaller on the inside.

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starwikia · 2 months

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so like are we done with the idea that james is a victim of the internet harassment mob or whatever you guys like to call it when in reality no one like forced him to be part of the public eye again. he had multiple times to disengage but he threw himself head first into the spotlight with some half assed apology where he used his dead mom, illiterate dad, and like 293 mental illnesses that he was in the right to do a widdle plagiarism but it’s not his fault! it’s everyone else’s fault for not being nice to him about it!!! how dare these people bring these issues to the public not thinking how james would feel about it! like ppl are forgetting there was notable period of time james went off air entirely. and every time he’s jumped back it’s always attempts to paint himself as the victim.

like be real for a second if anyone was weaponizing the internet harassment machine it was james somerton. he knew what he was doing when he posted that note. he knew the shit his victims would get for having the crime of (checks notes) voicing out their issues with him. he knew there’s people out there who are foaming at their mouths to use anything they can get their hands on as a “gotcha!” at hbomberguy (right wing people yes, but don’t act like it’s just them i’ve seen plenty of lefties trying to prove they’re superior to harry). they don’t give a shit about james, not really. he’s the dude who hbomb did a “hit piece” (yes that’s a term i’ve seen people use) and that’s what matters.

not to mention the writing that’s also very clearly targeting nick who’s basically cut ties with him at this point. james pushed all the burden on nick by saying it’s their fault, actually. he’s one of the co-writers and everything going to shit was nick’s fault when they had the audacity to move. james is faultless! with james still trying to monetize stolen content on the blatant lie that he’s doing this for nick’s sake as a portfolio. acting as if nick isn’t an sentient human being who could upload their own content, as if nick would even want to be associated with james at this point. this isn’t a teenager being harassed for an honest mistake, this is a 35-year old con artist who’s stolen hundreds of thousands and peddled the most vile shit as actual history but realized he was in deep shit and weaponizes very serious mental health issues as a “i’m just a poor little gay baby!! my alter ego did it!!!”

for the record if you’re among the people who tried to wash down james’ crimes as “he just did plagiarism!! it wasn’t that bad of a crime!” fuck you, man. i’m not kidding.

the fact i’ve witnessed people whitewash his acts of racism, sexism, transphobia, homophobia, antisemitism and misogyny (in fact i’m probably still missing a few things here), and say he’s being harassed by the internet just because he stole articles makes it so clear they have no fucking idea what they’re talking about. his shit isn’t fucking erased just bc he realized that he has to handle the consequences. he’s grasping at anything he can at this point to make sure that even if he’s not coming back, he’s sure as hell trying to take anyone he fucking can down with him.

he doesn’t get a second chance to be a content creator at this point. he doesn’t get to show himself to do better. he needs to fucking leave. and if he tries to publicly make himself the victim then he better know that he’s going to get public backlash.

if anything situation proves to me that he can never be trusted with a public platform ever again because he will immediately guilt people into feeling sorry for him.

#i’m going to be bitchy about this for the record #james somerton #hbomberguy #the funniest option is if james fakes his death like a fourth time and someone takes a pic of him in like a burger king or something.#updated i’m not 100% sure on nicks pronouns but i’m using they them just in case #update 2: the way i was proven fucking right immediately after posting this. you people are not real.

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cheshirebitch · 1 month

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Here me outtttttttt, Alastor or Lucifer (your choice) with a reader who has dabi’s power from MHA🫢

This actually sounded so good that I HAD to immediately put this power with Lucifer. I love that depressed duck man. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

𝔹𝕦𝕣𝕟 𝕄𝕖 𝔹𝕒𝕓𝕪

Lucifer x Reader (with Dabi’s powers)

As an overlord, you become used to people offering to team up with you, threats and attacks, and finding people to make contracts with. I normally was categorized as one of the “better” ones to have your soul sold to, unlike the Vee’s. Alastor was the one below me, but still wasn’t the best with how he treated his poor souls under his contract. What really scared people was when they heard why I was in hell instead of heaven with how I treated other souls here.

I died in an ironic way, burning from my own arson. My abuser was caught with another victim, but didn’t face any consequences for his actions. Therefore, I made sure he did by burning his home down while he was sleeping in it. I knew I would face murder charges and never see the sun again, so I burned inside with him, holding the door shut to the bedroom after nailing his windows shut. Due to my arson crime, I was sent to hell with the “gift” of blue flame. It looked beautiful but burned anyone who came too close. I was currently in a meeting with the overlords, playing with my blue flames on my fingers when Valentino came up to me, Lucifer watching from behind.

“So, how much did you say for Angel Dust’s soul?” His shit eating grin sparkling with the golden tooth. A polite smile twitched before I calmly responded.

”I would like to simply have his contract under myself instead of you with a buy-out price of the soul of Velvette’s.” I smiled with lidded eyes watching his cocky attitude melt away. All he knew was that I was interested in buying Angel Dust’s soul from him, never knew with what.

“Velvette didn’t sell her soul?” He sounded unsure as he glanced over my shoulder to Vox and Velvette waiting by the door to leave.

”You really think she had those powers when she came down here a couple years ago? You really are foolish.” I went to turn around, making Valentino panic. He gripped my arm, burning his hand instantly with my blue flame. My eyes were glowing an electric blue as the blue flames replaced my hair, flickering in the air. Valentino pulled back, holding his hand and looking in fear. He immediately fixed his tone, switching to an angry one.

“You bitch!” I was quickly losing my temper with how he was acting. If I slipped up and let my anger take over, I was doomed to explode blue flames everywhere. Lucifer was watching still from behind Valentino, ready to step in if I looked any more agitated than I already was.

“Do we have a deal or not, Valentino?” I stressed with my eyes and hair a flaming blue, the King of Hell already cutting off his current conversation. Valentino looked like he was actually considering taking my offer but was still angry with my skin burning him.

“Fine, I will release Angel Dust under you if you release Velvette to me.” My hand stuck out quickly in front of him and I made sure to burn his hand again, scarring one of his fingers as a reminder of this deal. Permanently burned into his memory that I was not a friend but an enemy that will always have the upper hand. Lucifer was by my side watching Valentino shake his hand violently in pain, hissing out curses. Vox and Velvette also joined, Vox aggressively inspecting his hand.

“What did you do?” Velvette started accusing me, pointing a finger in my face.

“We traded you.” I spoke simply as Lucifer caught up on what was going on.

I met Lucifer two weeks ago, outside of the professional setting, when Charlie and Vaggie asked for my help on something. They were referred to me by Alastor and Rosie, saying I was the only one with the power to get Angel Dust out of his abusive contract with the Vee’s. Lucifer had the power too, but it would cause an uprising. Of course I agreed for many reasons. But, it also got me involved in her hotel idea. I didn’t mind at all since it got me to become closer to Lucifer, even though we only met outside of meetings a couple times now.

“Who did you trade Val?” Vox grabbed his shoulders, getting in his face while his voice distorted with his anger. Lucifer glanced at me, silently approving of the accomplishment for his daughter.

“Listen, what’s done is done. You can’t undo it and it was his choice. If you have a problem, handle it outside of here.” He ushered the rest of the overlords out of the meeting room, shutting the door with both of us still inside. I took a couple deep breaths knowing I needed to calm down before I blew a fuse, literally.

”Did you get it?” Lucifer turned around, taking long strides to close the distance between us. He was smiling excitedly, enough that I felt like his eyes were stars. My laugh slipped out before I look at him, feeling comfortable.

”Did you doubt me? Of course I have his contract now. It cost me one of my upper hands over the Vee’s but anything is worth it for your daughter and her dream.” I smiled at Lucifer, holding my palm out to show a miniature Angel Dust in my blue flames form. I closed my palm when he leaned in a little too close for my comfort. I didn’t want to burn him.

”I still can’t believe you even had that girl’s soul!” I watched him take off his white hat, placing it calmly onto the table where we all gathered just a few minutes ago. My fingertips glided over the glass top, melting the glass slightly. The feeling of it melting and the smell of char forced my reflexes to kick in, pulling my hand away before I damaged it more. Lucifer, of course, noticed how it was molted now.

“Do you always get hot when you’re mad?” He spoke casually before turning as red as the apple on his hat. Immediately stuttering and waving his hands dismissively, realizing how it sounded. I watched him stutter through an explanation of what he meant with an upside down smile.

”I- uh- I- I didn’t- ha ha- I meant temperature. Anger causes high temperatures.” I laughed, deciding to put him out of his embarrassing misery.

“Thank you and yes.” I flicked my fingers to show the tips of them lit with the blue flame. Lucifer looked enchanted by the flames and before I could stop him, he reached out and touched them with his bare hands. I tried putting my flames out but what I noticed stopped me dead in my tracks.

”Why aren’t you being burnt horrifically?” I watched as my flames licked his skin, not burning it to a crisp. Lucifer watched as his hand held my flame instead. Truly, it astounded me considering no one could handle my flames, absolutely nothing could. What made it worse was trying to keep myself under control as I felt Lucifer’s hands softly graze my own. I didn’t know if it was just the fact that no one else has been able to even touch me without being burned by the heat of my body, the way the flame reflected in his golden and crimson eyes, or maybe it was the way I couldn’t ever keep my eyes off of him in the first place. Especially working with him outside of professional work, I have been able to look at him as more than just someone higher than me.

“It really is a beautiful flame.” His eyes were so enamored by it, he didn’t even get embarrassed or nervous. It was like we both were lost in something truly breathtaking, him with my unique flame and myself with how he looked illuminated by it. Lucifer glanced at me twice before he completely looked away from the blue flame on each of my fingertips. Gentle pale fingers pushed a hair out of my face, blue flames that were pieces of my hair. My hair and eyes were fully enflamed. I was increasing in temperature, which was dangerous considering the last man I thought I could attempt something with, was burned alive after our first kiss.

”You really are something, (Y/n).” He knew the right words to say to win my heart, but the wrong one to not make me burst into complete flames. What surprised me was how he still was able to hold his hand to my cheek.

“Seriously, how are you doing that?” I nervously laughed, awaiting for me to set the King of Hell ablaze.

“What do you mean?” He furrowed his brows, absentmindedly still holding my cheek. I could feel myself burn hotter from it.

”Everyone else who has even stood too close to me when I was like this, were burned to a crisp.” Maybe that was too blunt. Did I just scare him away?

”Wow! Really? That’s actually really interesting. Can you burn hotter?” His eyes were full of curiosity like a child. This man was really crazy if he expected me to try and kill him. I closed my eyes and took a couple deep breaths to extinguish myself.

“Too far?” He laughed nervously, pulling his hand away from me.

“I don’t feel like trying to kill the King of Hell today, I’m sure Alastor would love to do that though.” I teased, attempting to distract the poor thing from being too self conscious. I must’ve hit a nerve though, triggering a rant instead.

”Don’t get me started on that wannabe!” He rolled his eyes and took a couple steps, gaining me the moment and space to clear my thoughts better. Deep breaths, I need to take deep breaths and stop letting a man who probably doesn’t feel the same fluster me like that. I stood up and fixed mty outfit, smoothing my appearance out. By the time Lucifer turned back around, I had myself looking sharp and proper.

“He has been provoking me on purpose! You saw how he acts with Char Char! It’s like he only wants to act like her father figure just to get under my skin.” He ran his hands down his face. Metal glistened in the light, catching my eyes rather efficiently.

Oh. That’s right.

”Speaking of Charlie, I should probably head over to the hotel to pass along the news that I was successful in her request.” Averting my eyes from the man in front of me, I felt the choking reality that he was probably still in love with his extremely long term marriage partner and mother to his only child. I sucked a deep breath in before flashing a small polite smile.

”Oh, yeah. I’m sure she will be excited to hear the news.” I felt the room turn into an uncomfortable atmosphere. I looked at him in pity before sighing and sitting back down.

”Can I ask you a personal question?” I crossed one leg over the other, motioning for him to take a seat.

“uh- sure…?” He sat down, crossing his legs and leaning back fully in the chair. He was rolling up his sleeves then he ran his hands down the arms of the chair before gripping the ends in his hands nervously.

”Why do you still wear the ring? I think we both know she isn’t coming back, sweetheart.” Maybe that was also too blunt but I think he might need a shove into reality. He has been kind of in limbo for seven years. Last I checked, even Charlie had come to terms that her mom wasn’t coming back, at least not any time soon. I have had extensive conversations about it with her, even helping her realize her feelings of abandonment were valid.

“I don’t know.” He looked lost and his fingers traced over the metal, sliding it off. I stuck my hand out and stared at him, not once looking at the metal itself. He held it tighter in his hand before seeming to realize something internally.

”Lucifer, you need to let go at least enough to take care of yourself. It really isn’t healthy to hold on to something that is only causing pain and misery, now is it?” He looked defensive at first before blinking it away, replacing it with defeat and placing the ring in my hand. It instantly melted to liquid before I delicately morphed it into an “L” pendant with a thin chain. I may have helped him make the first step, but I wasn’t about to get rid of something so familiar to him. He would have to make that decision himself one day, I just nudged him in the right direction. Especially if he is still in deep love with her.

”I can give it to Charlie, see what she thinks the ‘L’ stands for. If she chooses me, that’s great, but if she chooses her mother, that’s also great that she can find it in herself to forgive her.” He hesitated, holding the chain.

”I don’t think I can ever forgive her for it, nor want to.” His eyes looked back up to mine, holding the gaze as he whispers, “I’m actually okay with her being gone now.” My brows furrowed as I waited for him to elaborate.

”I would’ve never had the chance to notice a beautifully complicated woman.” I felt my face burn, along with my whole body. I couldn’t control the high temperature and involuntarily burnt the chair completely before I was able to put myself out.

“I’m sorry, I can get a new chair!”

(As always, characters belong to their owner and the story belongs to me. If you have any requests or ideas, send them over :)! I will gladly try to write things for my supporters! Thank you for the love and have a great day <3!)

#fanfic #fanfiction #hazbin hotel #x reader #xreader #Lucifer #hazbin lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer

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doraambrose · 3 months

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I see this alot in fanon and I think jason Todd's parents are completely misunderstood.

Disclaimer: I am not a victim of parents with drug abuse nor have a I ever done drugs. I sympathize and emphasize with people who struggle with drug abuse as there are many reasons to get into it and it's very hard on your body to get clean, I will link help organizations below. This does mean that I can be a little ignorant to the struggles so if I say anything offensive or wrong, please call me out and educate me so I don't make the same mistake

Jason's family has been retconned so many times, it's hard to keep it straight. But this is my headcannon based on what I've seen:

1. I feel like a lot of people write Willis Todd to be this awful abusive scumbag who hated his kid and his wife. If you are talking about young justice or arkhamverse, this canonically true, but I think that's far from the truth in the main universe, prime or whatever it's called. In batman 411, jason is clearly distraught by Willis' death and does try to avenge him by lashing out at Two face. We also can't forget about the incident with the penguin that led to the worst Bruce and jason characterization before gotham war. And that's because of one rhato issue where jason finally reads willis' letters (a truly heartbreaking issue: rhato rebirth 23)

I believe that Willis wasn't a bad dad. Not a good dad, but not an awful abusive one. I 100% believe he has never abused his family in this universe. And you know what, he wasn't a great person. He was a drug dealer and then a henchmen. But he CARED. He cared about his family. He tried so hard to provide for Catherine and Jason for their medical bills, food, shelter. He just had a poor upbringing and some real shit luck, trying to survive in poverty in Gotham city.

2. Catherine has been written in fanon to be a perfect caring mother who was nothing but a victim. I believe that she wasn't as good of a mother and a person as people make her out to be. And we haven't seen everything, but I believe this because she seems selfish. She seems to put herself and her drug addiction before her family, doesn't seem to even try to get clean or take care of jason or provide. Look at these panels:

She neglected Jason. He had to go out and put his life on the line day after day when it should've been the other way around. Jason was a kid. And don't get me wrong, she probably loved jason and had good intentions, no, she definitely loved him, or else jason wouldn't canonically think as highly of her and take care of her the way he did, but she wasn't perfect and I don't think she was as good of a mother as she's made out to be.

3. Canonically, jason seems to really care for Catherine, but not Willis. I have a theory about that. For why he thinks so highly of catherine: I've never had a parent who suffered from drug abuse, but I do have a parent who suffered from a lot of mental health issues like depression, diagnosed, and I feel like bpd, though it was never diagnosed. When things were bad, they were BAD. I witnessed a lot. But when things were good, things were REALLY GOOD. I feel like when Catherine would come off the drug haze, things were like that. She probably took care of him during those times and was loving and all that. Catherine is the one parent figure Jason has to hold onto (because of all the shit with Bruce, Sheila, etc.). He forcibly removes the bad shit she's done and hangs onto the good things she's done because she really did care about him and in life, it seems harder to hate your mom than your dad (from what i have heard when i did research on this from friends). I've done that for years, and idk if I'm explaining it right, but I think that's the best way I can. For why he doesn't love willis: I think up until he read the notes, he didn't have the full picture. From his perspective, willis leaves to do crime and then eventually gets caught and left forever. I think he blamed willis for making jason become "the man of the house" and have all this extra responsibility. Willis also strikes me as the type of parent who has trouble expressing feelings, so jason probably rarely, if ever, heard "I love you" from his dad. Willis also strikes me as the person who would believe that he needs to make his son stronger in order to survive, and there are a lot of parents like that, especially parents from a low income household or a history of poverty.

In conclusion, both parents were FAR from perfect parents, but they're not as evil or as innocent as people write them in fanon. They're just...people. fanon likes to write comic people as black or white, innocent or abusive, but in reality, It's a gray area. Willis had his flaws, I hc him as one of those old fashioned kind of dads who wants his son to be tough and strong and isn't good with sharing his feelings, but does truly care about his family and NEVER was abusive. Catherine was a mother who definitely cared about her family, but wasn't an innocent victim and had her own flaws.

Anyway, thank you for coming to my Ted talk

#jason todd #red hood #batfam #dc universe #dc comics #rhato rebirth #rhato #catherine todd #willis todd #batman #two face #dc penguin

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exhaled-spirals · 2 months

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« Known globally for highly stylized genre films depicting the gritty underbelly of society with brutal violence and crimes, South Korean cinema was long characterized by what one film critic famously called “dark blue filter thrillers” mostly made by and starring men. If women appeared at all, it was often as one-dimensional clichés, serving as plot devices like a femme fatale, a murder or rape victim, an innocent lover or wife, or a self-sacrificing mother.

To challenge this norm and support women filmmakers, some women started to not only watch female-driven films but also buy more tickets than they could even use for such movies in a campaign called “spirit-sending”— meaning they would be at the theaters in spirit. The campaign turned a surefire box-office disaster to an award-winning hit, saving the career of a rare female director.

“It was truly a miracle,” Lee Ji-Won said of Miss Baek, her 2018 debut film about a female former convict trying to save a little girl from abusive parents. The drama, which portrays the friendship between two abuse survivors, was such a rarity in an industry dominated by what Lee called “films with cops, gangsters, naked women, or rom-coms” that it was snubbed by almost all investors and distributors. One investor promised to fund it only if Lee changed the lead character to a man. Another bet that “the disaster-in-waiting” would perish in cinemas in a week—a warning that almost materialized, as the film’s opening-day sales were so poor that it was projected to sell less than a quarter of the tickets required just to break even.

“Everybody, myself included, was so sure that the movie would crash and burn, and my career was over—until weird things started to happen on social media,” Lee told me.

Impressed by the rare women-led film with complex female characters, made by an even rarer woman director, many women watched it again and again, buying tickets even when they couldn’t attend. Ticket sales rebounded sharply as #SendingSpirit became a viral hashtag that continued for months until the film broke even. Miss Baek eventually won rave reviews and swept major awards, and the same investors who’d once snubbed Lee began to court her, begging to see her scripts.

“The gesture of solidarity by all these women was just overwhelming,” Lee said, wiping away tears. “They, like me, were so thirsty for movies portraying women as complex, multidimensional human beings.” In 2021, she finished shooting her second movie, featuring some of the country’s biggest stars.

The “spirit-sending” campaign lived on to drive the success of other women-led movies, like the film adaptation of Kim Ji-Young, Born 1982, allowing such films to defy the boycott campaigns that often targeted “feminism-stained movies.” While the film was hit by thousands of 0 percent ratings even before its official release (causing a vast gender disparity in its ratings on the top web portal—2.99 among men and 9.45 among women), Kim Ji-Young eventually became a hit watched by millions at home. Female-driven movies have grown in numbers and ticket sales since, led by a new generation of filmmakers like Lee and some male filmmakers as well. »

— Hawon Jung, Flowers of Fire: The Inside Story of South Korea's Feminist Movement

#quote #hawon jung #flowers of fire #women #cinema #society #english

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 20 days

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Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 15

I can't believe we're at 15 already :O

MASTAPOST

Danny looked at Damian. Damian looked at Danny. They looked at the smoldering remains of the Atlantean barracks, the scores of soldiers whose feet were frozen to the floor or to each other, bearing incredibly precise scorch marks from the wrist ray (maybe he should take confiscate that soon). They looked at the retreating soldiers, some of whom were openly sobbing. Danny looked at the helmet Damian acquired from their poor Atlantean victims, and the bow and arrow strapped over his chest. He looked at the overflowing satchels full of plant-based food they had plundered from the town. The unluckiest of them sported Damian-shaped bite marks on their exposed skin, a very painful reminder to not enter the kid’s personal space.

“You said we were just gonna get a map.”

Damian crossed his arms and honest-to-god pouted. Or scowled. It was a scowly pout. “It was not my fault you lost control over your powers.”

Danny’s face went blank. “Who was the one who demanded to see the seahorses and stick around even after we got what we needed?”

And you know what? Danny could honestly admit the seahorses were pretty cute. Was it worth risking their lives? Probably not, even if with Danny’s powers, there wasn’t much risk to them at all. It was the principle of the thing.

Damian at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed. “Is it truly my fault if I wish to admire our planet’s marine biodiversity up close?”

“Yes, Damian. Absolutely.”

“It matters not. Besides, the Atlanteans deserve what happened to them.”

Now that excuse wiped the deadpan off Danny’s face, leaving him in open-mouthed disbelief.

Damian continued. “We have done nothing to them, and yet they regard our mere presence with fear, and take up arms despite there being no hostility from us.”

Danny looked back to smoldering ruins. Granted, it was just a barracks and a few watchtowers, but still. The Atlanteans fear of them was starting to feel a little justified. Did the first settlement Damian raided yesterday suffer a similar fate?

He ran his hands down his face. Scratch the bloodthirsty theory. He was beginning to think Damian intentionally got them caught to have an excuse to wreck the Atlanteans. Then there were the weapons. One look at Damian’s satisfied face as he looked over the destruction practically confirmed it.

Man, kids really were menaces, weren’t they? Maybe he should’ve thought more carefully before agreeing to travel thousands of miles alone with this chaos kid. Was it the siren instincts? Youngblood was similarly unhinged. Maybe it just released his inhibitions.

His distress must have been visible, because Damian tutted once his silence went on too long. “I was being merciful to them. With my skills, I could have easily gut them like the fish I very reluctantly eat, but no longer have to thanks to having plundered their food stores.”

“You know what? I’m not gonna even try to unpack all of that. That’s a job for my sister.” The elder siren patted his shoulders. “Get on, we’ve got places to go.”

Damian beamed as he swam around Danny and latched on, head held high. And honestly? Danny would be an absolute hypocrite if he said he didn’t absolutely enjoy whooping the high and mighty bigots a new one.

“Hey B.”

Bruce could hear the strain on Tim’s voice. Even now, the boy was clacking away at the Batcomputer. He probably hadn’t taken more than a five-minute break.

“Tim.” Bruce said. He considered his next words. He was never one for talking much. It had become difficult to emote strongly after that night in Crime Alley.

“Still hacking into the GiW, and going over missing person cases. Haven’t found anything. I’ll post you when I do.” Tim said, all in work mode. Bruce sighed.

“Thank you, Tim, but I know it’s getting late at home. When was your last break?”

Tim didn’t say anything, but Bruce could practically hear the pout.

“I know you’re worried. I am too, but the Batcave will still be there in the morning.”

Tim hummed, still defiant to the last. “We’re losing valuable time. I can handle it. I handled Damian’s… everything. This is nothing. I’ve only been awake for sixteen hours.”

And wasn’t that half the issue.

Bruce took a deep breath. Countless hours of miming with Alfred, and talking to cardboard cutouts of his children.

“I’ve been worrying, Tim.” Just calmly. Just ease into the words. Don’t freak Tim out or scare him away.

“All you ever do is worry, and now it’s Damian so you’re worried even more.”

“I’m…” The lump in his throat grew. It felt like breaking glass to push through. “I’m worried about you.”

Silence on the line.

Bruce continued, stumbling into dark. “H-How are you feeling right now?”

A chair scraped on the other end., followed by retreating footsteps. “Nope. Nope. Not doing this.”

Bruce’s stress hiked. “Wait, Tim!”

The footsteps stopped, although Tim remained silent. Words, words, words, words. What did his manual say about this kind of situation?

“Thank you. I know you and Damian haven’t been on the best terms. But it… It’s…”

Bruce rapidly flipped through his manual, before deciding on the right word, before Tim could get away. “It’s… I’m proud of you. I always have been. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

The footsteps resumed, twice as fast as before. Bruce could barely make out muttering about coffee hallucinations. That was good, was it? Bruce looked over his checklist over and over again. Surely he hadn’t missed something?

Maybe he needed to review his notes before talking to Dick…

Arthur Curry, better known to the world as Aquaman, regarded the messaged sent to the palace from the Pacific frontier. The kingdom had benefitted immensely once the zeta system and advancements in instant communication allowed for him to easily communicate with every corner of the country in seconds.

The contents were worrying. Very worrying, in fact. He would almost have dismissed it as impossible, if he weren’t keenly aware of how much damage a clever enough child could do. Memories of the various Robins’ exploits around the Watchtower flashed through his mind, giving him goosebumps.

Never again.

It was a luxury which appeared unable to be afforded to him, as an attendant entered the room and handed him a second message, bound in twine and seaweed. Arthur thanked her, and opened the letter.

Another raid by the same child, this time accompanied by a young teenager. A young teenage siren. The local barracks destroyed, several watchtowers toppled, and food stores plundered. The two sirens fled soon after. About thirty injured personnel, but no casualties, and no civilian injuries either, thank goodness.

It was one of the strangest raids parties he’d ever seen. Usually siren pods descended on vulnerable border towns like a landslide, bringing dozens or hundreds of warriors charging through the countryside, pillaging farmland and razing whole buildings to the seafloor. Arthur transitioned to the archives to continue his research, pulling thousand-year-old records from their carefully preserved cases. His earliest predecessors had seen countless deaths to these war parties, before the Atlantean military was formalised and modernised.

The raids also occasionally took hostages. Sometimes adults or the elderly. Usually children. Arthur’s heart ached at his most vulnerable subjects being stripped away from their families. Those hostages taken were often never seen again, even as Atlantean forces made repeated incursions into siren territory to search for them. They would always be repelled back before finding any.

But one pattern was always clear with the raiders. Although those barbarians took Atlantean children for whatever sick purposes, they never brought their own children to fight. Some of his people believed they didn’t even have children, that they spawned spontaneously as fully formed spirits of destruction and rage.

It looked like those theories were untrue. But what circumstances could produce such a strange result? The first report only described a single siren child, who looked to be about five years old or so by Atlantean standards. The second report confirmed the reappearance of that child, now in tandem with a teenager who still appeared very young. Were they brothers? The reports stated the older one had translucent white and black skin, almost like glass, to the point where even his internal organs were faintly transparent. The younger siren sported a dark green coat, and golden fins and highlights. Neither before or after they struck did the soldiers ever catch a glimpse of an adult.

Could they be orphans? Arthur’s heart panged. Even if they were technically his enemies, he hated the fact that children were the victims of this continued conflict. Despite attempts to work out a peace treaty between his kingdom and the sirens, it could never work out. Atlantis was one kingdom with one king, but the siren pods spent as much time squabbling between themselves as with Atlantis.

Outside of their age and lack of supervision, the children also sported another deviation: Their choice in weaponry. While the capital invested in preferred to traditional weapons, favoring especially polearms like the spear, trident and javelin. Siren war bands in the past favored the bow and arrow, using their superior speed to outmanoeuvre and outrange Atlantean soldiers. Many men and women were lost to their feigned retreat tactics, to the point where every new recruit had to be drilled again and again to never pursue ‘retreating’ sirens.

The elder of the two raiders fought with only his magic, firing icy beams and throwing spears of ice. This was where the duo was most similar to typical siren warriors, contrasting against the disciplined and measured sorcery taught to Aqualad and others his age.

What was alarming was how the younger boy fought. He slashed at one poor soldier who got too close with a sword in his first attack. Mauled six others with his teeth in the second. At ranged he wielded a strange contraption on his wrist, capable of rapidly firing concussive energy beams that let him suppress and disrupt soldiers triple his size.

The sirens were never interested in technological development in the same way as the Atlanteans did, and never had they possessed a weapon even close to as advanced as the one sported by the tiny child.

Arthur’s eyes furrowed. Could it be that some third party was supplying Atlantis’ enemies? How long before another army gathered, before the kingdom faced another existential threat like Pariah Dark had once posed?

Arthur’s Justice League communicator vibrated. The king of Atlantis picked up the call.

“Arthur.” It was Bruce. “This is urgent.”

“What do you need?”

“What information has your kingdom got on sirens?”

“What a coincidence, because I’ve just received two new reports from the Pacific frontier…”

“… As for this Phantom character, the culprit of the attack seems to match your description perfectly.”

Bruce furrowed his eyes. He marked the location where Phantom had last struck. The boy was heading south, along the California Current. For what reason? Was he migrating according to his needs as a species, or was he searching for another haunt? Was he going further south or would he turn west once he neared the equator and follow the current there?

Six months of stalking a human town, fighting off other sirens, only to abandon it once the GiW came out in force, and then start marauding Atlantean settlements out of nowhere? Something extraordinary had to have happened. According to Arthur, Phantom had never been seen by his soldiers before. Perhaps Phantom had completed whatever goals he had in Amity, and was transitioning to his next move on Atlantis.

Phantom was young, or at least appeared young. Likely no older than fifteen. The fact that no records show any similar pattern of behaviour ruled out the possibility of it being some kind of coming-of-age ceremony. It seemed Phantom was an outlier among his species.

If sirens travelled in pods, then where was Phantom’s?

“It’s funny you mention that, since he wasn’t alone. There was a tiny child with him. I think he was about five years old or so. The boy carried weapons like a warrior, and blasted my soldiers with energy beams from a futuristic wrist gun. I’ll sent you the sketch the commander sent me.”

Bruce confirmed his receipt of the sketch. His eyes widened.

Emblazed on the gun’s side was a very familiar logo, a flaming blue F for Fenton.

The conversation ended soon after, with Arthur promising to forward him translated copies of the reports.

Bruce clasped his hands, holding them tight as he pondered (not brooded, despite what Dick insisted).

It seemed Phantom’s lack of morality couldn’t sink further. He had manipulated Amity Island teenagers into assisting him, and now he was leading what was basically a toddler half of Damian’s age into dangerous battles against trained soldiers.

Bruce’s will hardened with righteous anger. This Phantom was barely fresh off his last crime before preying on another child. He had to be stopped.

Suddenly he had three children to save now.

Please be ok, Damian…

#dpxdc #danny fenton #merman #damian wayne #dcxdp #merboy #angst #mermaid au #atlantis #atlanteans #good parent bruce wayne #arthur curry #bruce wayne is bad at feelings

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oddballwriter · 7 months

Text

Dwelling in the Night

Series Masterlist

Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4

Summary: There's a new vigilante figure out on the streets at night. And there's also a new neighbor on the same floor as Steven and the rest of the boys.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, dead bodies, crime, all that. Reader is a vampire so it's implied that they consume blood and all that. Also, Y/N kills, but the act is never actually written or depicted. Steven being dumb and clueless for reasons of the plot. This is mostly Steven-centric and Marc-centric but Jake's here too but doesn't really do anything for the plot other than simply have some lines that progress the plot. Gender-neutral reader with they/them being used for them. Heads up, it does get a bit confusing in one part but I think it's fine.

Author’s Snip: I wrote this in one sitting and it's currently 1:30 am. Honestly, anything to stall my studying for an exam for one of my classes. I wrote this fucking unit of a shot involving my love for vampire Y/N's just to do it.

Notes: Please appreciate vampire reader. We need more of that in the x reader community. I as a reader would love for that to happen more often. Thank you.

Word count: 2,600~

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy!

The system took pride in their patrolling. Even if it was still doing work for Khonshu, they were still free in what they did when coming across a criminal rather than being yapped at. It brought a sort of satisfaction of taking, or at least scaring, another threat off the street. But things were getting weird, and slightly disturbing.

Criminals had started to drop like flies with a theme of them being found in dark alleys with bitten throats, but there was never any blood to be found that made sense with their wounds. Just their pale corpses with looks of fear or shock in their glazed-over eyes.

Jake admired the simple tactic of scaring off would be scum by the fear of being the next person in the obituaries, but he had to admit that the method of doing that was unsettling. He just killed them and let whoever came across the scene be shucked with cleaning the mess.

Marc worried that this other party wasn't actually someone necessarily on "the right side" and this was an actual threat to the public that just so happened to have a streak going with having their victims coincidentally being criminals.

It wasn't until they came across two cases that proved that worry otherwise.

The first was a girl they found running around the alleys in a panic. When they went to her and asked if she was okay, she was babbling about something in her panting. "There was this guy! He dragged me into the alleys, he held up a knife to me and was threatening me!" she explained pointing in the general direction, but she kept talking "But this... in the shadows, there were these two glowing lights, like eyes! And this person came out from there and grabbed them." she said. "I just ran off I didn't know where to go! They were blocking off the way to the street." she exclaimed.

It was actually Steven who was fronting then. He helped her calm down and led her out of the alley system and back in to get the perp and maybe help whoever got him away from the poor woman. But when he found the guy, he was like all the others he and the system had heard about.

Dead with a bitten throat, fear on their face, and hardly any blood in the pool for it to make sense.

The second was with Marc himself. He dropped in on a duo of muggers who cornered a young man, getting a left hook in on one of them. But his buddy ran off into the dark and dank alleys to get away. Marc needed to do a few more punches to get the first down and out before chasing after the second, but he swore he could've seen a figure follow after them in the corner of his vision.

He heard the sound of what must have been the guy's scream as soon as Marc moved on.

But when Marc got there, he was already on the wet brick floor writhing and grabbing at his neck. He saw them. A figure in the shadows where the backlights couldn't reach to show them in all say for a silhouette, had ducked into another alley. "Hey!" Marc called to them before chasing after them. But when he turned the corner, they were gone, only seeing a complete dead end.

When Marc came back to the guy, he found him trying to breathe through a gargled, and bitten, throat. He tried his best to help the guy since he was still alive. Unfortunately, bites to the jugular weren't kind injuries to those who are dealt them.

🩸🩸🩸

"I don't understand," Steven mutters as Marc slides back into their flat after patrolling and finding a few more crooks who came across this other person. "Why the injuries to the neck? And how is there hardly any blood?" he questions, "There's nowhere for it to go. There's nowhere for them to go. They just come out of nowhere and pick these blokes off and leave in such a short moment.".

"I don't know. And I don't think I want to know. This freak's keeping the load easier for us by doing whatever they're doing with these guys." Marc says, emphasizing the word 'freak'. "Hey, watch who you're calling a freak, amigo. We aren't exactly normal either." Jake says, mostly joking. "Yeah, sure. But we're not the one who's having our guys come up without a drop of blood left in them." Marc defends.

A crash is heard from nearby, in the flat next door.

"The hell's going on over there?" Marc muttered to himself as a reaction to the sound, but Steven said a name almost instantly.

"Who?" Marc asked.

"It's Y/N. They're our neighbor. They moved in a few months ago." Steven answered. "I've never heard of them." Marc comments before Steven quips back with "That's because you two hardly meet anybody.".

"Give me the body for a bit. I want to check on them. That sounded like something big fell over." Steven requests. Marc shrugs and switches out after briefly instructing "Put the body to sleep when you're done.".

Steven un-summons the suit, steps out into the hallway, steps towards your door, and knocks. After a beat, the door opens enough to have your head pop through, but not enough to show the rest of your flat like a fully opened door would. Which he didn't really mind, you always did this whenever he or anyone would knock. "Hello." Steven greets you with a little smile.

You look worried at seeing him in front of you. "I heard a pretty loud noise come from your flat. Is everything okay?" Steven asked. "Yeah. I'm so sorry. I knocked over a shelf." you answer. Steven is shocked for a bit, "A shelf? My word. Are you sure you're okay? Do you want me to help you lift it back up?" Steven stresses as he moves to the side to peak into your flat to see how bad the damage is. But you quickly pull back in and tighten the width of the open door to a sliver , making him unable to see the inside with a "No!".

He pulls away, startled at the sudden reaction.

You open the door back up to step out again. "I'm sorry about that." you timidly apologize. "It's fine. I can pick it back up on my own. Thank you for offering to help and for your concern." you say. "There's some blood on your hand." Steven notices. You pull your hand behind your back at the realization. "It's fine. I'll clean it up myself." you blurt out as you go back into your flat with a quick "Good night, Steven." before closing and re-locking the door behind you, all before he can properly react.

"Good night?" Steven repeats back in confusion.

"That was weird." Marc comments, exposing that he had watched the whole thing go down. "Yeah. They... are a bit strange. They don't really come out most of the day." Steven explains. "Why were they up this late?" Jake buds in, having seen it all too. "It's nearly four in the morning and they look wide awake and aren't in any pajamas." Jake adds.

The next time Steven saw you, you were bringing a huge box into your apartment a few days after that night.

"Need help?" he asked. "Sure. It's actually really hard to drag around." you admit. As he picked up the other end of the large, and heavy, box and walked with your pace into your flat you spoke. "I'm sorry about the noise and acting weird a few nights ago. I was just embarrassed from having woken you up." you explain. Steven gently huffs, "No need to apologize. I wasn't asleep anyways. I was pulling an all-nighter like you were." Steven reassures. You look at him for a moment, "Oh right. Yeah. I do that a lot. I do better with work at night." you remark.

You two manage to get the box past some things it would have bumped, into and into the space between the space of your bedroom and living room. That's when he sees that there's no bed there in your bedroom area, glancing at the box to see a depiction of a bed frame.

"Changing furniture?" Steven asks. "Yeah. I already sold my old one." you say. Steven quarks a brow, "When? Have you had to sleep on your sofa-?" he asks as he turns towards your living room area before interrupting himself with a "Woah!".

There in the area, where a coffee table should be, was an authentic-looking coffin. "Quite the decor there." Steven comments with a breathy little chuckle. "Yeah. I like the look it had." you claim.

Looking around your flat for the first time, Steven could see it. It wasn't exactly goth per se, but there was a weirdly somber and antique look to your decor. It had that same attic look that Steven's did, but you had an attic feel of that of an abandoned house that was left for the dust bunnies to call home. Almost haunted house-esk with the draw curtains adding to it all.

"Is someone in there?" Steven jokes, mostly to himself. "No." you stutter out, "But it does still open." you mention as you walk towards it to show him by lifting the lid.

And, wow. It was real. It still had the pale pink padding and even the pillow inside of it, still pristine as ever, ignoring a couple of scratches on the outside wood.

"Impressive. How'd you even get your hands on this?" Steven asked. You thought for a moment, most likely trying to recall the answer to that question. "Some funeral places have spares that never got sold. So they sell them for a much cheaper price." you say.

Steven nodded as he took another look at the coffin.

"Well, it really is a nice touch." Steven complimented. "Thank you." you reply with a sigh.

🩸🩸🩸

Again.

And again.

One alley crawler dead and paled out after another.

Finding the bodies seemed to become a normal accordance for the boys when they were out doing their rounds around the city. Whoever this was at least started to lean the bodies against the wall after doing the deed now so that there wasn't just some corpse in the middle of the alley's street.

He was still finding the people this person 'saved' too. With them saying the same thing each time. Talking about a person in the shadows with a pair of glowing eyes being the only visible thing about them and then having gotten whatever criminal tried their luck yanked away into the said shadows with a scream echoing as the victim ran to safety.

They never see the actual person though. They don't seem to wear a costume like they do. No mask. No suit. Their only identity keeper they have being that of the shadows that exist beyond any light sources. The only sign of it being them is just the animal-like glow of their eyes. And one brutal calling card for those who came to see where they were.

Tonight was different.

Marc heard the sound of gunshots and rushed to the scene. But he found someone running for their life trying to leave already. He grabs a hold of them, thinking it was a person escaping a forceful mugging till they tried to aim a gun at him. Thankfully, he manages to subdue them.

"That thing tried to get me!" they shouted frantically as they attempted to get loose. "You gotta let me go, man. I don't want to be another body found around here." they beg.

"They tried robbing someone." a voice rings through.

Marc, and also the person he was holding down, looked towards where it came from. He notices the eyes first, with their white pearly glow surrounded by the rest of their shadowy form. The eyes almost looked like the system when they wore their suits, though it was dimmer, just enough to pierce through the darkness, and looked more like the glow was coming from the irises than the whole eye.

"I stopped them before they could pounce. This one was holding more firepower than most. I didn't want to have to risk it." the voice spoke again.

It felt a little haunting. The glow was almost disarming somehow, and their voice was calm and collected as it naturally echoed through the walls of the buildings, and sounding almost familiar. Marc stood there just staring at them till the person he was holding started thrashing harder in his hold, "Let me go, that thing's going to fucking kill me! I swear to god!" they pleaded.

"You're in his court now. You aren't my issue anymore." the silhouette says looking towards the person from where they were before looking back up at Marc.

"Sorry about me leaving my actual catches around." the silhouette apologizes. "I have nowhere to put them." they add as an explanation.

"Why kill them?" Marc questioned, speaking before really thinking. "You kill some of yours don't you, Moonknight? I don't see why you're judging me." the silhouette remarks. "I meant in the way that you do. I just kill them and leave them. You do... something to them." Marc speaks, hesitating for a second at the latter end.

The silhouette stays silent for a second seemingly striking their eyebrow from the way their eyes move. "I have reasons to do it that you probably wouldn't like to hear." they say. "We're doing the same work either way. My method is just more intense than yours tends to be." they comment before slipping back and disappearing into the shadows.

Marc calls out a "Wait!" but gets nothing in return.

He's just left alone with a scared shitless would-have-been mugger and more questions.

🩸🩸🩸

"Hey!" Steven calls out as he does a brief jog over to you in the hallway. "About time I catch you out in the day." Steven jokes. "Oh. Hello, Steven. Yeah. I needed to run some errands." you say, giving an explanation for the rare occurrence. "Good thing you've come back. It's been overcast all day and would rain at any minute." Steven comments.

"Anyways. I knocked on your door yesterday but you didn't come to the door at all." Steven mentions. "Oh. Really? I'm sorry. I'm usually asleep in the day because of my all-nighters." you claim.

"Really? You've got to be the hardest sleeper then. You're like the dead in there. I knocked hard for a while." Steven explains. "So I've been told." you nervously laugh. "You must be real tired if you usually sleep in the day then," he comments. "Yeah. But I have to deal with it." you say.

"What did you need?" you ask.

"Oh. Nothing from me. I was told to tell you, by the landlord, that there would be a check of the fire alarm system next week and that some might go off." Steven explains. "They tried to knock on your door the day before I knocked, but I guess you were asleep." Steven says. "Yeah. I probably was." you reply, "I'll send them an e-mail or something telling them about my sleep schedule." you mutter to yourself.

"Well, nice running into you. Go get yourself some rest." Steven says as he bids you goodbye by patting your shoulder. "Be sure to wrap yourself in something warm too. You're a bit cold." he adds.

#moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #moon knight #moonknight #steven grant #steven grant x reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader #jake lockley #vampire reader #gender neutral reader #long shot #vampire!reader

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lucaaazd · 1 month

Text

My Roman Empire is the fact that people often subconsciously judge a woman by her worst moment and a man by his best. And when you point that out to people they go, “you just making excuses cuz she’s a woman.” Like no … you’re the one saying omg he’s such a good man bc he showed ✨ tremendous guilt ✨ for all the fucked up manipulative shit he’s done but the woman is a heartless psycho even though she’d actively saved people, spared people’s lives, resisted when she was asked to put people in harms’ way, was forced to do all the dirty work for her male comrade who was busy having fun with his victims and pretending to be their friends. She was the one who called Reiner out after he said he wouldn’t blink an eye to kill everyone in 104th cadet bc they’re all devils anyways… she was like “I thought they were ur friends? sorry but you’re disgusting”. And yet SHE’s the psycho?

“BUT - but she said she’s do it all over again”wayyy to take a line out of context lmao it’s almost like she also admitted she has committed irredeemable crimes all to see her dad again. Remorse and regret are two very different things … just bc someone hasn’t tried to unal1ve themselves doesn’t mean they feel no remorse. Annie was crying every time after she had to hurt the people she’d grown to care abt, like w Marco, after her two failed missions, etc. Also not to mention the recurring Marco nightmares. If she was a man y’all would eat this shi up. “Poor Anthony … he just wanted to see his dad. He deserved so much better :(( “

Annie’s numerous acts of kindness and compassion towards others, which can be found throughout the whole show and the OVA’s, are conveniently ignored by those who find it easier to dehumanize her and undermine the complexity of her character. Reiner too is a victim of his circumstances and did redeem himself in my opinion, but it’s the double standards that always get me. The point of the story is that EVERYONE suffers as a result of the cycle of violence. It’s not “this character did no wrong, that character’s the worst”, it’s “most of us end up becoming perpetuators AND victims because of the system”.

Ok end of essay

#shingeki no kyojin #snk #attack on titan #annie leonhart #reiner braun #misogny

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rxsilabeth--er · 17 days

Note

But being a criminal and getting trans!reg pregnant....like it's all planned.

Reader being obsessed with reg from the beginning from when he was just a trainee and committing crimes just so he could visit the scenes and watch reg. Killing people till he's darling boy is head of this case and being the one to bring him in. When he is, he chats up reg at a bar or sth, and poor reg is so clueless. Doesn't the guy he's riding and losing his mind over is the same person who is killing all those young victims he's investigating. By the time he figures it out, everything has gone to hell. And little reg is pregnant with the child of a serial killer. The worst part is that he knows. He can't tell anyone cause if his team finds out he got knocked by the psycho they're trying to catch, he'll lose the respect of the entire bureau. And Reg doesn't want to abort cause he's too stupidly in love with the man that gave him the child. However, he's shocked when he finds out the man made a small mistake in the last crime scene, but his team doesn't know it's killer and reg is a hundred percent sure the clue wasn't a mistake and was all planned out. And know he's interviewing his baby daddy in a small metal room who is highly aware of the tiny life growing inside of him and is too smug about it. With his new role as a potential witness to the case, he decides to offer his help with catching the murder and reg's boss agrees and is grateful to have the help of a local. Soo he grows to be liked by the whole group, and it's torture for reg. He keeps pulling reg into closets and bending him over the desk, promising to give him the little family he's always talked about on their dates, teasing him about how he has always been an over achiever and Regulus knows he could easily let himself hate him had their were not moments where the man was too domestic. Him walking into the office, wrapping his arms around his waist, rubbing his stomach. Talking about how their swert child will come out a genius. How he'll marry reg, whenever his ready. Always carrying with him water so reg is hydrated, doughnuts for the craving. Home-cooked meals, that reg can't help but mouth over. When reg is working too hard he'll walk into the office rub his back and little bump, telling him he shouldn't work too hard, it's bad for the baby, whispering little clues about the case In his ears. He'll buy him presents and make little baby jokes in front of everyone, making everyone confused. They'll ask if he's got a special someone at home and he's like yeah, we're expecting. He'll look reg right in the eye and go "smartest and prettiest little mama I've ever seen" and when it gets too hard for reg to cover the bump, he promises he'll quit but only if reg agrees to live with him.

Sorry, I may have gotten too obsessed 😅 I got this idea at what? 3:50 a.m and now it's 4:22. Had to get it all down immediately 😭

I'm drooling over this, it's such a piece of diamond!!! I NEED IT!! Oh my god, it's so cute yet so sexy!! Here take preggo! Reggie smut in exchange for the amazing gold's price!!| Warnings: dub-con? Slight manhandling, gun on head (reg's fine, dw), reader is kinda unhinged and insane, chocking, reg's pregnant, I have no idea, what came over me to write this...

Thank god, everyone in the office was actually gone out to eat, Regulus said he wasn't feeling and you brightly volunteered to stay behind to care of the Head Detective and the others agree, because you're a local who became VERY close with the group.

And Regulus knew why...Regulus's head felt like it was burning, crying on his knees, spewing insults, yelling, screaming and what not simply to argue with you over the fact that you're always at his office now and he doesn't like it...

You simply grinned down at him, you liked when he cried, it was cute, you know you should be angry at him, but maybe it was the fact that he was pregnant that suddenly made him so cute and made you want to make him cry more and mewl on your cock like that other night in the forest where you pounded in him on the forest floor beside his friend, Barty's house.

Softly you walked close to the kneeling boy, lifting his face softly and grabbing his face tightly, "You cry so damn much, it's fucking annoying how pretty you look." you softly hummed as Regulus's soft whimpering as you grab his arm and lift him up, pulling him up as you sat on his chair, the Head detective's chair.

You let him stand as he continued to scream at you for the next few minutes, maybe it was the pregnancy moodswings but after a few minutes of screaming, he stood there sobbing, pregnancy emotions always got out of hand, you guessed.

Softly he walked closer to you, sitting in your lap, crying in your neck as your hands stroked his thigh and sides, one hand travelling up to the top of his jacket, you softly pulled it off as he continued to cry, whine and sob on your lap, as one hand unbuttoned the buttons of his shirt softly, the other rubbing his thigh, the shirt still tucked in enough to hide his body well.

You snaked your hands inside his shirt, rubbing his stomach where you felt the smallest amount of movement, was it from Reg's breathing or the baby's notice of his father being around, you didn't know, you preferred the latter, knowing the man in your lap could never help his greediness he had over you, his obsession over you which he tried SO HARD to deny always made you grin and made you think how cute he'd like crying on your cock.

The other hand softly unbutton his trousers, your hands slipped inside his pants on his hips, holding his hips softly as you pet his hips a bit for him to lift his hips for you remove his trousers. Throwing them haphazardly, your fingers softly grazed his clothed cunt, already starting to wet and leak even through his panties, "Oh? Already wet...expected this from you honestly." you hummed softly, taking his hand on yours and guiding it to your trousers.

As he unbuttoned your pants, you simply pushed his panties aside and stroked his cunt and clit, but not touching him where he wants. Panting and whining, he simply pulled out your cock, whining as you simply sighed. "Pitiful.." you stared at him, but he's pregnant, might as well be sweet right?

So that's how he ended up riding you, wailing and moaning like it's nobody's business as his fingers were plunged in your mouth, plugging your mouth as you sucked and slobbered over his fingers like he did on your cock with a smirk seeing him go crazy and whiny simply from bouncing over you, one of your hands rubbing and squeezing his clit and the other rubbing his tummy which was seemingly growing to show your kid inside him...

Thrusting up into his cunt, the hand which was on his stomach moved up to softly pinch his nipples just as the ringtone of your phone rang through the office, as Regulus's cries resonated within the walls, just before you pulled his panties you tore off of him and shoved it in his mouth, taking the call, putting it on speaker and placing it on the table, while one of your hands held his wrists tightly, while the other moved to hold his throat.

Noticing his movements stopped, you leaned close to his tear-stricken face and asked, "What? Did I ask you to stop? Continue fucking riding." you said softly, you were sure if not for the panties stuck in his mouth and your hand on his throat he would whine loudly to show everyone what was happening.

"Hello?" Barty's voice came from the call, "Yeah? Hello Barty!!" You asked brightly, in contrary to how you were fucking Regulus on your dick. As Regulus continued to bounce on top you, "Yeah, uh, we're reaching the station back in like two to three minutes." Barty said as all blood ran from Regulus's face while you only smirked,

"Oh? Oh, please, do come early...I miss you all and if not me, then Reggie sure does, don't you?" you said smirking as Barty laughed over the phone, "I bet, aight, I'll tell Evan to drive faster, can't leave our besties alone, can we? See you!" he said before hanging up as you pulled Regulus's panties out his mouth, making him whine as you pressed down on his throat and rubbed his clit a bit harshly,

"Why-...Why would you..you-fuck! Why would you do that?!" he asked, trying to be angry, but his exterior flattered the moment you thrust inside of him, hearing him wail.

"Come on, hurry up, don't you want to cum? If not now, then you'll have to wait up until, I don't know....a few hours?" you said as he suddenly began speeding his movements up, as you relaxed in the chair, groaning as you kissed his chest and left hickeys, biting him as he simply whined and tried his best to ride you. Your hands no longer working on his body neither did you put in any effort, if he wanted it, he can have it all by himself especially after screaming at you,

"i'm still upset at you yelling at me, so I will relax, you use me and get yourself off." you said simply, hands simply on his stomach, stroking his swelling belly, letting him use you.

Regulus tried his best to replicate the feelings of you, pinching his nipples, squeezing his clit, plunging your fingers in his hole besides your cock if you felt more mean, or the way your cock touched parts of his body his long fingers couldn't even reach...

His wet finger rubbing his own clit, as he ride to bounce himself on top of you like you always force him to, the other hand on top of yours on his stomach, feeling your cock bulging in his stomach, it was hurting, but he simply couldn't reach his good points!

What the hell, you're supposed to care for him, your baby's momma, your pretty little baby and your gorgeous princess (as you called him in a degrading way).

It wasn't helping that you were pinching his nipples seemingly out of nowhere and reminding him, "Come on, don't want the whole sector to know you're a whore right? They're gonna be here any minute now." he said. His pleasure was teetering between too much and too little and it was driving him wild,

"Ah-fuck!...please! I-I'm..fuck..I'm sorry, it's not working!!" he whined, his tears dripped down his cheeks with drool also falling down his cheeks making you shake your head, "I'm sorry, baby. You're on your own." you said simply, groaning as he clamped down on your, throwing your head back, sadism making you feel happy and a smirk on your lips as he again began to move up and down, his thighs burning just as the sounds of other's car's parking was heard.

"Oh, looks like they're here, awwhhh, baby, hurry up, come on, cum." you said with fake pity as Regulus let out a loud whine, near scream,

"PLEASE! I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry...Please..it hurts and I-fuck! Can't do it, I need you, I need you!....in here..Please daddy? Don't wanna pleasure your little cumslut...am I not carrying your baby?" he softly, whined taking your hand and placing it on his dripping cunt softly throwing his head back, you groaned and rolled your eyes as you held his hips, the fucking cumslut was smart and fucking cute,

"Awhh, fine. But hear me slut, you're not cumming the whole night after this." he said as he nodded desperately, "Fine, yes, yes!!" he nodded as you looked over to see Barty, Evan, Pandora, James, Sirius, Remus, Lily and literally everyone in the group was entering the building.

You quickly pulled out and flipped him over, slamming back inside as you pounded him on the table, as you looked over the desk to see your gun that confiscated in a opened drawer, pulling it you softly placed it on his head, making Regulus tense up, as you continued to pound inside him, spanking his ass red and rubbing it softly between your warmed up palm of the other hand before it moved to bundle up in his hair to pull up his falling and lolling head as his whined,

"Awhh, what? Scared, baby? You should be. Fucking brat, you should be fucking grateful I don't pull the trigger for almost revealing my identity...But fuck, baby, I love you." you hummed moving fast, moving the fun down to nudge his clit with the cold metal as you pounded in him, pulling his hair, and biting his shoulders, you were dressed up but he wasn't except his opened shirt hanging from his shoulders.

Regulus's whines began to be more high-pitched and faster, "Uh..No, wait..it feels weird, sir! PLEASE! It-fuck, feels like I'm gonna pee...Please, no i'm-ngh!...I'm gonna cum." he whined, thrashing softly as you placed the gun back on the table and shoved fingers in his mouth, gagging him on them, as the other pinched and rubbed his clit roughly, you could hear the other's footsteps outside on the corridors...

"Fucking cum, I better not get caught. They're just outside the door, sweetheart." you hissed as Regulus whined and let out a soundless cream as he squirted over you dripping down as he clamped down on your cock, his head dizzy as he whined softly.

That pushed you over the edge as you quickly came inside him and pulled out, staring at his dripped ass as Regulus scrambled to get his articles of clothing, including the ripped up panties and ran to the bathroom, banging the door closed just as the door opened to them, "Hey!! We got food for you as well!!" Pandora said brightly holding up a bag as they all stare at you fixing your unbutton shirts with a sweet smile, back on your lips,

"Hi, welcome back!! Where were you all gone for?" you asked, fixing your pants behind the desk hiding you as you smiled brightly. "Oh, nowhere really." Mary said sighing as she pulled up a chair beside you as you sat on the Head Detective's desk, "Where is Regulus?" Dorcas asked, as you slightly panicked, "Oh, uh, he's in the bathroom." you said smiling nodding towards the bathroom in the office.

Everyone nodded as Pandora handed you the food bag, "Oh yeah, speaking of. Reminds me, you look unsuually happy, are you expecting someone at home?" James asked smiling, as you nodded with a boyish grin,

"Yep, i'm expecting a baby!" You said just as Regulus walked out wiping his face with a napkin, his clothes back on, " the prettiest and gorgeous mama I've ever seen.." you said softly smiling at Regulus who blushed and walked closer, shooing you to get your own chair...

You pulled one beside him, as everyone began leaving to go back to different things they had to work on, as you ate your food in silence with Regulus, pulling him back to sit in your lap on the Head Detective's chair, a hand on his tummy.

You didn't really notice it, but after the few months, he was honestly starting to show, if not for the fact that he wore a brown blazer over it that hid his stomach, but if he wasn't wearing it, it was blatantly obvious as you stared at his stomach.

Regulus noticing your gaze no tummy, he hid it under his arms, his insecurity skyrocketed since becoming pregnant, but despite being insane it would be wrong to lie since he was looking gorgeous than anything,

"Quit this job, I'll take care of you." you blurted out suddenly making Regulus glare at you, "You have a lot of fucking audacity." he said pulling you close by your collar, "I'm serious...I don't want you to be held responsible if I got caught being a killer, I want you and the baby to be safe, quit this. I have money, I'll take care of you." you said softly, rubbing his stomach with one of the rare, genuine smile you held making Regulus a bit surprised but sigh,

"I'll see...", "Thank sweet mama.. :)"

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danmeiconfession · 4 months

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No. I think Shen Yuan never really see these people as people even at the ends of the book. My dude really condemned Shen Jiu a modern man really gave no shit or felt any sorrow towards his enslavement and abuse. I read a fully grown man with modern sensibilities and values watch a child being horrifically abused. A child that was ENSLAVED, restrained, beaten, TORTURED by another man, an OWNER. And I read SY's thoughts on the matter. Read him condemning the child and feeling no horror or disgust at the act of child abuse. He felt nothing regarding the immorality and cruelty of slavery. Hell, When ZZL murdered GYX who was only ever just, kind, and helpful in all his interactions and to SY himself, I was upset SY seemed to feel nothing and felt no censure towards ZZL or sadness or guilt towards GYX who was trying to save him. But I excused it as him having other things to do because maybe for SY, it's easier for him to just push aside feelings over someone's death to focus on other things (though I was unnerved that he never seemed to think of it again or care).

SY intentionally condoned the murder of dozens of individuals to save his own skin, and never wrestled with his conscience over it. While SJ's self-hatred is detrimental to himself and those around him, at least he struggles emotionally and morally with his decisions. He still does them, but at least he doesn't excuse them or not even feel guilt or shame. SY however is completely shameless in doing whatever it takes to live. I honestly find characters like this interesting, but I found SY's character to be lacking because the author wanted him to be a self-centered survivalist while also a sweet, holy mother/mentor figure to LBH. That's a BL trope I usually find tedious and boring, especially because authors never have said overly kind, overly forgiving characters be kind to anyone accept a handful of characters who are plot relevant (sometimes even only the ML or villain) while they treat every other character as air or cardboard.

I was so convinced of SY's point of view on the original characters and novel, that I kept making excuses as SVSS unfolded. When he recounted the scheming and murdering of Sha Hauling in PIDW while fanboying over how excited he was to see her, I excused it as him not realizing the gravity of her crimes when they're committed against living people. And once he decided she wasn't that great and LBH deserved better, I was assured, even though he seemed to only do so because she was rude to himself. When he celebrated O!LBH's torture and mutilation of SJ for bullying him in his teen years and even called for SJ's castration, I excused it because who doesn't want to see an evil pedophile get what they deserve, and fans can get overly enthusiastic sometimes, even if calling for slow, multi-year mutilation and torture is a bit extreme even if LBH is your favorite characte

It seems a lot SJ haters like to excuse LBH's behavior the way they claim SJ fans excuse SJ's. LBH was the poor kid and bullied by kids in the neighborhood, then singled out and bullied at his school, before being treated to the abyss where he utilized the training he received at CQ and his innate demon heritage to establish himself. In PIDW, he proceeds to commit large scale mass murder, borderline genocide, destroy the human realms sects and defenses against spiritual and demonic threats, all why gruesomely maiming, torturing, dismembering, disemboweling, and feeding alive anyone he disliked. Uhhhh... disproportionate, much. Bitch slap and shame people if you want, but O!LBH is a monstrous, self-centered, sadistic freak show. He goes far beyond a victim of abuse reacting with anger and defensiveness. He controls the lives and wellbeing of all the people in the realms, and repeatedly makes time to find enjoyment in the torture, pain, and suffering of others on a scale he had never experienced himself. Meanwhile, SVSS!LBH still decided to start widespread violent capture of cultivators to date Xin Mo while SY was out of the picture only sparing CQ because he knew once SY was brought back, SY would be upset with him if he did. He shows no care for anyone else, human or demon, in the world of SVSS besides SY. His only regards for others are as useful allies and subordinates, enemies, and people he knows SY would lightly scold and admonish him for killing. LBH is fucked up in every universe, whether he gets bullied at school, or his teacher turns him into a live in homemaker.

At best, I could excuse this as SY not seeing other people as actual people. Maybe because he read about them as fictional characters first, he can't fully perceive them as humans, just characters, not as real people like him and SQH. Maybe he made an exception for LBH because LBH is his favorite character. But that care and regard clearly don't extend to anyone else.

I have no idea where people get the idea he sees them as real he doesn't. I couldn't care about a protagonist who didn't react with shock or horror or even just resigned sadness to child slavery. I couldn't give a shit about his romance anymore. I stopped reading. To be clear, I don't hate SY, or even his type of character. I'm just disappointed because I went into SVSS thinking I'd be getting a cute, sweet, slightly stupid, modern nerd flailing though a comedic romance full of ridiculous misunderstandings and pitfalls. It turned out, I got a self-centered, apathetic fanboy simultaneously stalking while trying to avoid and stay on the good side of his mentally unstable, over powered idol. Which I've actually read before too, but at least the author wasn't forcing every other character to remark on how sweet, kind, and good the fanboy who cared about nothing but his favorite character was.

Clearly, his anti-abuse philosophy only extended to LBH and no other child. He felt nothing regarding the immorality and cruelty of slavery." The hypocrisy displayed by SY is astonishing. It's fascinating how SY condemns child abuse, expressing concern for Binghe's mistreatment, yet dismisses Binghe's daily killings over five years to control Xin Mo as a consequence of past abuse. There's an apparent double standard. Moreover, in the same breath, witnessing SJ's appalling abuse, SY downplays its impact, suggesting that SJ's mistreatment doesn't excuse his transformation into a reprehensible individual. SY seems to overlook the scumbag-like behavior, focusing instead on SJ's skills, status, beauty, hard work, and wealth.

Why do people like this character lol?

#svsss #scumbag self saving system #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #shen yuan #luo binghe #scumbag system #zhuzhi lang #shang qinghua

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jayktoralldaylong · 2 years

Text

MDZS spoilers

We as a fandom do not talk enough (and I say this because I haven't seen anyone mention this yet) about how outright abusive Jin Guangyao was to Nie Mingjue. I believe this abuse is so underrated because not only does Nie Mingjue not fit the stereotype of a victim, but he never truly realises that he's being abused.

- The betrayal of his trust.

- Being forced to bow to the man who killed his parents.

- Getting captured, having his subordinates killed, and getting handed over to the damn Wens during the m*th*r fucking war, when JGY knew damn well that Mingjue would be stressing on whether or not he'd ever see his brother again, just to pull the ✨"It was all a part of my ultimate plan" 😌✨ ruse so that Lan Xichen would like him more.

- Being gaslit every time he tried to call JGY out on his crimes.

- Doubting his own judgement.

- Having his own brother pull away from him because JGY understands him more.

And that's just the stuff I can remember.

"Mingjue you're bigger than him, stronger than him, more privileged than him, why do you insist on hating poor Mengyao who does nothing but respect you."

And Mingjue can't reply. He doesn't know how explain that man is evil in a way that Lan Xichen will understand. Because the evil comes out only when its him. The evil comes out when it knows Nie Mingjue has no proof. And Mingjue thinks he's safe, because he is in fact bigger, stronger and more powerful. So what really can that little guy do to him?

#mdzs #modaozushi #mo dao su zhi #just 3zun thoughts #I love #3zun #I really do #but Jiggy ruined both NMJ and LXC #he's a toxic little murder man #and he was just plain awful to Nie Mingjue #the dude who saved his life #the dude who stood against his own people to defend him #totally understand why NHS was so mad #jin guangyao #nie mingjue #lan xichen #nie huaisang

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twitchylittlelamb · 5 months

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I have 20 minutes to do this before my lunch break ends, let's go.

Yesterday I was rewatching Will's trial in S2, trying to focus on the little details, and something about Chilton's statement got me.

Through the whole trial Will remains the same: gaze low, neutral expression, barely reacting, fishing in his mind palace (except during Hannibal's statement, where we see him finally interested). While Chilton is talking Will remains the same, until he talks about how Will constructed the way he presents himself socially.

Paraphrasing Frederick cause I have no time to search for the screenshot of the scene, Will constructed his person suit as fragile, scared and harmless. The confused man we know couldn't commit those crimes, because in fact that man wasn't real. Chilton was wrong about Will's guilt and is often very dumb, but he saw through Will. The most important detail here is Will reaction as Chilton says this: outside he remains the same, but then it cuts to him fishing. An amused smile in his face, for the first time in this episode.

Then Chilton goes on about how saving lives pleasures Will as much as taking them, because he thinks of himself as a god. (Remember Hannibal saying killing must feel good to God too, he does it all the time.) Immediately after Chilton says this, it cuts to a beautiful shot of Will fishing.

A fisherman has the power to choose if the prey he catches will be returned to the water and live, or die and be eaten. Much like God, much like Hannibal.

(Also I used to go fishing a lot with my dad - Abigail moment - and here's the thing about these two possibilities: it doesn't matter. Either are pleasurable, both leave you feeling victorious and satisfied.)

I can't stand depictions of Will as a fragile and helpless victim. He was dark before Hannibal. In fact, they're so drawn to each other BECAUSE of their mutual recognition. Even if Will didn't understand it yet. Will was that confused, twitchy man because he was scared of his darkness, not because he was a victim.

Anyways, stop treating Will like a poor baby who fell victim to the scary monster.

#Im not going to apologize for my grammsr mistakes cause I'm literally trilingual and I have no respect for the English language #hannibal #hannigram #will graham #hannibal nbc #cosmicloveaffair1111 #hannibal meta

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jisungsdaydreamer · 1 year

Text

No Man’s Land

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» · «TAGLIST»

SYNOPSIS After a disastrous shipwreck out at sea, Changbin should have died. But you saved him.

Pairing: Changbin x gn!reader Genre: mermaid au, pirate au Warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive, violence, death, nudity but not sexual World Count: 3.6k

P.S. ♡ If you like my work, please consider giving me feedback in the form of reblogs, comments, and asks! ♡

Changbin is accustomed to the folk law of sea creatures, monsters with tentacles and suckers that rip the skin clean off your bones. When he’d first set sail with a captain whose lucrative business involved bloodshed, cannon fire, and rare visits to dry land, Changbin was fifteen. All he possessed were the tales his grandfather had received countless times. A sword was always strapped to his hip, but it was some time before he learned how to use it. Piracy is a crime punishable by death. But Changbin doesn’t intend on getting caught.

It’s the stories of creatures half-human, half-scaled, that Changbin can recall in greater detail. Shivers ripple through his body as he recounts the brutal cruelty these beings are capable of; known to prettily coax ships to the rocks. Some say they physically transform for each victim, your own personal siren, beautiful and nigh uncatchable in the water.

But the tales are not of much concern at the present minute, as the ship is hosting a rather bloody battle between the crew and those that have swung aboard, uninvited.

“Changbin!”

The warning almost comes too late, but Changbin turns, carving his sword into the man’s waist. A fatal red seeps into the clothing around the deep wound, mouth wide and breath punched. The man falls back, his dead weight hitting the hard deck.

There’s not much time to relax before another opponent chooses Changbin to pick a fight with. Changbin’s aim is weak when holding a pistol, and he desperately hopes the man aiming at him is just as poor. The bullet clips Changbin’s arm, a flesh wound that doesn’t cause much discomfort. And that’s particularly useful, because his attack is a surprise to the man he charges at. He could take an arm or a leg, but a blade through the left of his chest is something Changbin finds kinder, when ending a person’s life. Not that he’s ever had it happen to himself.

Changbin’s sword is slicked with crimson as he withdraws it from the torso. Sweat trickles his neck and back, as he discovers flames that lick up the stairs to the raised deck which holds the wheel. One of the vast sails has just caught alight, and despite the endless water surrounding them, it will be difficult to put it out. Steering has been abandoned in favor of fighting off the enemy, and Changbin’s judgment tells him the ship is careening towards a reef just barely visible above the ocean’s glassy surface.

He’s forced to scale the splintered wood to the side of the stairs in order to reach the wheel, but even then, he’s burnt from the heat. Alas, Changbin is too late. The belly of the ship crunches, shredded by the unforgiving rocks, and any effort to stop the consequences are rendered fruitless. Changbin’s limp body is catapulted forward, his hip slamming into the outer edge of the vessel as he is thrown over the side.

Changbin’s vision is blurred when he cracks his eyes open. It’s uncomfortable. Changbin is used to sleeping in rough conditions on the ship, but this doesn’t compare. Attempting to roll to the left jabs more sharp rock through his thin shirt. Wincing, Changbin moves to sit up instead, but soon wishes he didn't. Desperate eyes scan the surrounding water, but there’s nothing but a few floating planks and barrels. If anything was burning, the flames have been extinguished and everything is oddly still. The ship is gone and Changbin’s heart lurches at the possible whereabouts of his home.

The next sight his eyes are troubled by has him grabbing for the sword on his bruised hip but his hand clutches at thin air. Instead, a small dagger is drawn and thrust out defensively in front of him. Changbin sees that you look frightened, but the stories he has heard of mermaids has his fingers tighten around the handle of the blade. Your head bobs up again, and Changbin draws his legs further into him. He’s defenseless if you decide to drag him into the water.

He’s breathing heavily now, eyes never straying from the source of his fear. You curiously circle the rock he’s made residence on, coming a little too close for Changbin’s comfort. It’s a pathetic attempt, but he still wrestles off his one remaining boot and launches it at you. The pulsing waves make good cover as you duck. You seem more curious about the wriggling of his toes rather than his efforts to keep you away.

The movement triggers a sharp pain to the right of his forehead. The dagger has dropped from his hand, teetering on the edge of the stone, but before Changbin can reach it, the blade is swallowed by the ocean. He clutches at his temple, and as he withdraws his palm, blood mixed with water drips down his wrist.

“I’m sorry about that. You’re heavy and the sea is rough.”

You are much closer now, clinging to the rock on his left side with your hands, and it’s difficult for Changbin to mistake the regret in your sparkling eyes. The rest of your body past your bare shoulders is concealed within the inky waters and your dark hair cascades in waves around your delicate features.

“I pulled you onto the rock,” you continue as Changbin stares. “Because you can’t swim, can you? That’s why you sail on those big wooden arcs.”

“Ships.”

It’s the first word he’s spoken to you, and it seems apt for the situation he’s in.

“Ships,” you repeat, locking the information away.

He doesn’t correct her— Changbin’s a strong swimmer— but it doesn’t seem important now. He has far greater concerns. “Where is my ship?”

“Sunk.”

“And the men?”

“Sunk with it.”

You don’t hold an ounce of remorse, just inquisitively tilting your head. Your lack of sympathy reminds Changbin that you are a creature that isn’t human; you might as well be from a far-off land.

“Why did you put me here?”

It’s accusing. He should have died with his friends, not alone on a fucking rock. Changbin knows you both are in the middle of the ocean, he’d seen the maps a few days prior. They were sailing into open water.

“Because I found you.”

“There were plenty of men you could have captured,” Changbin bites back.

He’s not frightened of you anymore; he’s just incredibly pissed off. Stupid fish. Why couldn’t you have just left him to die?

“But I didn’t want them. I wanted to keep you,” you emphasize.

“Why?” He shakes his head.

“Because you’re beautiful.”

Your answer flushes his cheeks with color. He had expected a reply to run more along the lines of, ‘because I think you’ll scream the most when I rip you from limb to limb’ or perhaps, ‘you’ll taste the nicest when I wrap you in seaweed and feast on your flesh.’ You smile at his embarrassment, an emotion you’re probably unaware you have caused him to feel. No one has ever called him beautiful before.

“Are you a pirate?”

So apparently we’ve moved on, Changbin thinks. He shifts a little in your direction, and with the unparalleled view of his very own siren, he is secretly astounded with your beauty. It’s delicate in a fragile way, bringing a certain sadness to him.

“My ship’s gone, the crew… I’m just a man on a fucking rock now,” Changbin speaks in defeat.

He lays back on the jagged stone, heavily sighing and staring up at the clouds floating by.

“A boy.”

Changbin’s eyes harshly target you. Your eyebrows are raised in question to his challenging frown.

“I’m nineteen,” he states defensively.

“Is that old enough to be a man?”

He doesn’t miss the sharp gleam of your teeth. You could probably rip him to shreds, but he doesn’t think that will happen, now that you’ve called him beautiful.

“I think I’ve had enough life experience to merit me a man.”

“Oh,” you reply.

“How old are you?”

“I don’t know,” you retort with a shrug.

It’s off to see such a human gesture on something that Changbin knows is swimming around with a tail. It’s as though you can read his mind, flicking your lower half through the opaque water before coming to rest on his other side. He sits up.

“Why do you slay your own kind?”

The fighting. You’re talking about what happened between the two vessels. Changbin’s memory is fuzzy, and he accounts it to the knock his head received. The enemy ship must’ve gotten away unscathed, unless it’s wrecked like his own and lying beneath him. You were watching then.

“We had to protect the cargo,” He eventually replies.

“The shiny coins and pretty rocks?”

You smile in appreciation, and Changbin is certain you’re innocent to the worth of the stolen treasures. They wouldn’t be as good to you, as you spend your life solely below the surface of the sea.

“You’ve seen them?”

“Yes, I went down to have a look while you were sleeping. Your ship has holes in it, I don’t think it will float anymore.”

“No,” Changbin sadly shakes his head.

“Where have you been on your ship?” you ask, genuinely taking an interest in the stranded boy.

“Everywhere.”

You laugh, and the sound makes Changbin want to move closer. His grandfather’s words still ring in his head, the most malicious predator wears beauty as a mask, beware of the sealed splendor that inhabits the ocean, Changbin.

“You can’t have been everywhere.”

He’s going to die anyway, why not let it be at the hands of his own siren?

“Even if I haven’t, there are thousands of ships; man has conquered the ocean,” Changbin replies with assurance.

Your smile drops, fingers slipping from the side of Changbin’s rock, and you create space between you both. You float as he shuffles down, feet dipping into the water. When you make no move towards him, Changbin lets his legs hang over the side. The water is cool.

“You’re naive, pirate,” you speak in such a harsh tone, Changbin finds it difficult to accept that those words have come from something so lovely.

“My grandfather slayed a monster of the sea, it was forty feet long,” He challenges.

Changbin thinks you ought to be impressed, his grandfather was a legend. But his pride sinks as you coldly stalk him. The once pretty shimmer of your tail has taken on a darker tone. Changbin braces his hands behind him, leaning back slightly and away from you.

“I’ve seen bigger,” you finally reply with a small smile.

If Changbin didn’t know any better, he’d say your words were laced with suggestive air. It’s a manner he’s only ever heard of in the bedrooms of women he visits when making an occasional port stop. You’re either unaware of your affect or playing with him on purpose.

“Have you?” Changbin laughs, not in a questioning way, but with a genuine interest.

You swim closer back to the rock, your shoulders rising above the water for the first time, exposing your body to Changbin for the first time. His eyes traced over all of you, your delicate but strong arms, the graceful arch of your neck, the soft curves of your hips. And when Changbin realizes that your torso is bare, save for the gorgeous curls of your hair, he immediately looks away, his face colored with his sudden bashfulness.

It is not as if Changbin has never set eyes on someone’s naked form, but the gorgeous creature in front of him is no human- no, you are ethereal, exquisite, a kind of loveliness unknown to man. Looking at you feels new, somehow; you are only a fantasy, a being of old sailor tales, and up until now, everything about you was a mystery to Changbin.

“You and your ships have barely explored the surface,” you state, amused, as you rest your chin upon your forearms, propped up on Changbin’s small, probable death, a stone island. “There’s so much more.”

You’re kindly smiling now, friendly demeanor in place of whatever manifested a short time before.

“More?” Changbin speaks without thinking, leaning closer to share the secret.

“I could show you.”

Changbin shakes his head with a shy smile, looking down and observing the way his legs swing back and forth in the water. He should feel cold, but he doesn’t. Changbin doesn’t have time to go exploring with you, his life on the rock must come to an end soon; he has no drinking water, no food, no nearby shore.

“Will you sing to me then?” you ask quietly. “I heard you before the fighting. You have such a pretty voice, will you sing to me, pirate?”

Changbin indulges the bewitching mermaid and recites an old song his mother used to sing to him. You are so enthralled, requesting that he repeat the tune and then sing a new one. By the time he’s finished, Changbin’s voice is tortured with thirst. You are laid partially on the rock, tail dipping in and out of the water as you praise him for such a wonderful performance.

“Your eyes look like the deep ocean,” you keenly observe. Changbin has never heard of a more poetic way of describing his murky brown eyes. “It’s one of my favorite places.”

He’s tired now, hungry and possibly a little sunburnt. With his eyes closed, Changbin is free to imagine himself anywhere he pleases. The sun is still beating a warm glow in what he believes to be late afternoon. And Changbin can’t seem to envision himself anywhere but here, on a rock in the ocean, with a sea creature for company. A beautiful one. Changbin’s glad that they haven’t exchanged names, because hearing you say his might in fact be a massive obstruction in his plan of not getting attached and wanting to stay. Learning yours would swell his heart.

You are lovingly gazing at him when he opens his eyes. He’s had time to think and he’s made his decision.

“I’d like to see. Will you take me there?”

Changbin is slipping down the rock before you even confirm your answer. Your eyes are bright with joy, excited that the boy would accept your offer. You’ve never been this close to a pirate, or a human, for that matter. And now, your heart flutters because you get to hold him again. He’s not asleep this time.

Once he’s fully submerged, your arms wrap Changbin’s torso, pressing you into him. He’s not expecting you to be so gentle, conscious of the fragility of his body as you cradle him away from the inevitable danger of the rock.

“You can’t swim, I’ll hold you.”

Your smile almost makes Changbin want to confess he can’t be yours. There’s no hope for him, Changbin understands that. And maybe this won’t be such an awful conclusion. He’d imagined his life to come to an end at the tip of a blade, sea air spraying his face, not in the arms of a creature who inhabits the ocean he sails. Changbin almost wishes his grandfather could be here to witness the ‘monster’ he’d painted into his grandson’s young mind. To see that you’re not a ruthless predator, not a vicious, inhuman monster. You saved his life.

“Are you ready?”

And now, you’re unwittingly going to take it from him.

Changbin’s lips fall to yours. It’s a surprise for you, because it’s a soft pink. Warm. Their noses brush as the angle transforms, and the boy presses his mouth to the corner of yours. The laugh that escapes is musical, and you squeeze his injured hip.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s a kiss,” Changbin breathlessly explains.

Your eyes dart over his face, absorbing the boy’s striking features, and you playfully tug at the end of the black scarf tied around his head.

“What’s it for?”

The mermaid smiles innocently, questioning about a subject that he’s never been asked to analyze before.

“It— it doesn’t really have a purpose.”

He’s not going to delve into the logistics, because all Changbin can think of is to explain a kiss like that is love. The situation doesn’t need to last longer. He’s ready to go with you now.

“Then why do you do it?”

“It feels nice,” Changbin’s voice descends in volume, embarrassed to be called out.

He looks at the length of your hair falling over your shoulders and down your back, before tracing his eyes upward again, over the strange gashes in your neck.

“Do it again,” you breathe.

He does as told, closing his eyes and melting into the last kiss he’ll ever have. You follow the only lead you have ever had and shut your eyes. It seems strange to you, to blind yourself when commencing in an intimate act. Surely you’d want to see the other person. Your mind flutters as the boy performs magic with just his lips. And you come to realize that ‘kissing’ is more to do with how you feel, rather than what you see.

Changbin is startled as you pull away, hiding your face and giggling. Your shimmering tail floats back and forth under the water beneath them, your hands still firmly holding his waist.

“What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, water droplets trickling down your neck and over your chest.

“Your tongue touched mine,” you exclaim, blushing.

It’s enormously endearing and Changbin finds himself wishing that he’d met someone like you on land. You would have convinced him not to leave, not to climb aboard the ship proudly displaying black flags. He would have a respectable job and thrive on the knowledge that everyday, you’d be home waiting for his return. He could have loved someone like you.

“I’m ready.”

You beam a smile at him before helping his arms around you. His fingers skim the hardened scales on the small of your back, tracing the gradual boundary between ocean dwelling and human.

“Hold on to me,” you whisper, the last words spoken between you both before you submerge.

The saltwater stings Changbin’s eyes. His instincts tell him to fight the hold and break the surface, but he overcomes reflex, letting you cling to him as you dive further down. You’re more powerful than he’d expected, and they descend quickly. The pressure is starting to burn, pressing down on his chest as he holds the last of his breath. Three more beats of your tail, and Changbin can’t put off the inevitable any longer. Water painfully invades his lungs, body convulsing with the onslaught before succumbing to the ocean, and the pretty creature who cradles him.

He knew he would drown, but you didn’t.

They come to a slow halt to admire the surroundings.

“Look,” you smile.

These waters are your favorite, pretty fish and deep water coral. It’s a wash of colors that most don’t get to see, perhaps that’s what makes it so special.

The boy’s head rests in the crook of your neck. You hold him away from you slightly so you can see his face, see the awe you hope his features will express. But his face is blank, eyes shuttered closed, hands no longer seeking you for guidance.

You shake him, as much as the dense water allows. The hair not trapped beneath the bandana floats around him like a halo.

“Why won’t you open your eyes?” Your voice trembles with a cry.

He can’t swim. Your hands settle a small distance away from his waist in hopes that he’ll reach out and clutch you to him again. But he doesn’t. The boy begins to drift, and you snap from your despair, taking handfuls of his shirt and dragging him into your arms.

“Sing to me,” you desperately say into his ear. “Please.”

You’ve seen men like this before, but you had accounted for their unresponsiveness to the wounds to neck or chests. They were already dead before they hit the water, thrown over the side of ships that flaunted those black sails. Your boy has no such injuries. You check, hands smoothing over his defined chest under the tattered shirt. There’s no wounds, no blood. Delicate fingers inspect his shoulders, and your frantic searching dies when you reach his neck. A distraught cry frightens the nearby fish, as they seek cover in the nearby coral. The three gashes that you have on either side of your throat are absent on his.

The boy couldn’t breathe.

“No.”

You receive odd looks from your siblings, but you pay no mind. The boy is yours; you’ll look after him.

Others of your kind have gathered around the wrecked ship settled on the ocean floor. It’s not too far from the surface, light still penetrating from above. With practiced skill, you carefully navigate the vessel’s interior, an area you’ve previously explored after rescuing the boy you now protectively embrace. The cargo he’d talked about spills over the chewed up wooden floor.

There’s not much of a current, especially as they’re sheltered within the ship’s hull. You allow his body to float down upon a bed of shiny coins and pretty rocks: a fitting resting place for your beautiful boy.

You stay with him until the waters are cold and looming with the promise of nightfall. Normally, you’d spend this time above the surface, sitting on the boy’s vacant rock to watch the sun go down. It is possible to cry underwater, and your sorrowful tears wash with the ocean.

Your lips press to his, but you don’t linger because he’s cold. The once pretty pink is now a stony blue as you run the tip of your finger over the curves of his mouth.

“Forgive me,” you plead.

One last look and you’re gone.

But you should have stayed with him though, as now the boy’s eyes are wide open. There are gashes on his neck, and he’s breathing the oxygen in the water…

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» · «TAGLIST»

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I wrote this years ago. I just love mermaids & Changbin!

©jisungsdaydreamer 2023 | All rights reserved. I do not condone translations or transfers of my work onto other platforms such as Wattpad, AO3, etc. Tumblr is my only platform. Acts of plagiarism are strictly prohibited.

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