#and since the family is extremely annoying except for a couple of people i am already supporting her in whatever her revenge plan is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

waithyuck · 4 years

Text

PUPPY

pairing: werewolf!lee jeno x reader (f) *halloweenie special*

genre: smut, supernatural au

word count: 4k

warnings: mature content, excessive explicit language, sexy times (meaning sexual content), I used the word ‘penis’ ONCE and only ONCE, mentions of a knot, knotting (I’m sorry), slight impreg kink, cumming inside, unprotected sex, blood, aggressive behavior, other stupid cliche werewolf things that are most definitely prob in hundreds of fics, jeno does NOT like being called a puppy even tho he’s called it oNCe

a/n: the first release of the dreamie halloweenie series! I hope this one sets the tone for what’s to come 👀 sorry to anyone who hates werewolf cliches and for the extreme lack of any substance or plot lmaoooo anyway I hope y’all enjoy reading

| next >

~10/10/2020~

~~~~

“are you cool with jeno staying the night?” your brother shot out, startling you as he spoke, not even looking at you as he spread too much peanut butter on a slice of bread nestled in his hand.

you looked up from where you were sitting at the kitchen table to face your brother, not saying anything in reply as you got lost in your thoughts.

jeno was an oddball. he was nice and he wasn’t creepy or even that weird, he just had his moments that were just well, odd. he was your brother’s friend of about six years; they met in their second year of high school and have been inseparable ever since. because of that, you have also been surrounded by jeno in all that time as well.

in the first couple years, you didn’t notice anything strange about him. he seemed like a normal and healthy young teenage boy. he was incredibly handsome, so of course your poor soul developed a small crush on him that only grew as the years progressed.

since you paid such close attention to him, you could pick out the oddities in his behavior occasionally pretty well. just from that, you’ve deducted that his sense of smell was almost god-like, like he could smell things that a normal person couldn’t.

now, you supposed that it wasn’t that weird that he had a good sniffer; there were probably tons of other people in the world with the same ability...but it wasn't just his sense of smell that had you curious.

sometimes he would act strangely at night; not often, but enough to have you questioning it. he would either disappear completely without a word or come up with a half-assed excuse to leave and then run away like a frightened animal.

it was just plain odd...and you couldn't get over it, no matter how much you tried to will yourself not to think about it.

snapping out of your stupor, you felt your heart jump at the thought of jeno coming over, even though he’s been here countless times, but you didn’t let it show and you shrugged your shoulders.

“it’s not like I have a choice in the matter,” you stated truthfully, looking down to pick at your nails. “you would have just said he was coming over anyway if I said no.”

your brother smiled at you, beaming as he placed the bread down and patted your head.

“you know me so well, y/n.”

you rolled your eyes, shoving him away. “yeah,” you retorted, slightly annoyed. “It’s not like you’re my brother, or anything.”

he didn't say anything further and you left him alone with his sandwich, getting up and making your way to your room where you could successfully hide for the rest of the night. before your cold make it far, you heard your brother yell something about jeno coming around 8, but you didn't say anything back and just minded your own business all the way upstairs to your room.

you pathetically holed yourself up in your dark room for about four hours, only coming out to quietly sneak to the bathroom and then you would go back into hiding once again.

even when you got word that there was pizza downstairs, you ignored it and continued to watch horror story narrations on youtube.

you just couldn't deal with being in the presence of your long time crush today. it took everything in your power to stop yourself from going downstairs and being potentially spotted, but you managed to pull through successfully and be a pathetic hermit in your room.

it was around 3 a.m. when you were finally finished with watching youtube videos, and you felt gross. you supposed that the two boys would be sound asleep by now, considering your brother never ever sacrificed his beauty sleep for anyone. you grabbed some clean clothes and gathered them in your arms before trudging tiredly to the bathroom, swinging open the door without a second thought, not realizing that the light was already on when you got there.

your heart almost jumped out of your chest as your eyes bulged out of their sockets.

“holy fuck!” you screeched as you took in the sight of jeno, in the middle of the bathroom completely naked, stroking his painfully hard cock right before your eyes. you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the show and you accidentally discovered that there was something not right about the way it looked...

your mouth fell agape and you barely heard him gasp loudly before trying to cover himself with the closest towel.

“jesus christ, y/n!” he yelled back, both of you not even considering your sleeping brother that was just three rooms over.

your eyes stayed glued to where he was covering himself with the towel, still thinking about the oddity of his dick. it seemed to be swelling at the base, which was definitely not normal for a human penis to do.

“what the fuck is wrong with your dick?” you blurted out unapologetically, causing a blush to cover his entire face and neck. you tore your eyes from his covered crotch to look at his eyes, which were now a shocking shade of bright yellow. you jumped back, dropping your clothes on the floor as you watched him breath heavily, most likely trying to calm himself down the same as you.

“oh my god, what the actual fuck is happening?” you murmured out loud, your eyes wide and never leaving his own as he stood silently in front of you. “am i dreaming? am i fucking high?” you tried to reason out as to why you were seeing what you're seeing, but jeno didn't give you much time to think before he spoke.

“you’re not dreaming,” his voice came out low, almost like a growl, and you felt your heart freeze up. “I dunno if you’re high...but what you're seeing is as real as it gets.”

your mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping out of water, trying to formulate the words to say next. your brain literally couldn't think of anything except his abnormally large and weird dick.

“okay…” you trailed off, your hands coming up to rest over your racing heart. “so then I’ll ask again: what the fuck is up with your dick??” and then you quickly added, “and your eyes??? I'm so confused right now, jeno.”

he sighed heavily and turned around, giving you a full view of his ass before he gathered his clothes to get dressed and cover himself. you really should have looked away, but your eyes wouldn’t listen to your internal screaming no matter how hard you physically tried to stop staring.

when he pulled his shorts on he finally turned to face you once more, forgoing a shirt much to your dismay (but really, you were dying on the inside at the sight of his abs). he stared at you for a second, his eyes back to their natural deep brown color.

“...there's a lot we need to talk about.” was all he said before grabbing your wrist in his scorchingly warm hand and dragging you out of the bathroom and down to your room. you didn’t protest and you let him practically drag you all the way there, closing the door behind him and guiding you to plop down on your bed. jeno walked to the opposite side of the room, distancing himself from you as much as possible.

“um..so,” he started hesitantly, trying to form his words correctly. “I’m uh, I'm a werewolf.”

your eyes bulged out of your head in disbelief, but you didn't say anything in reply. you both stared at each other across the space of your bedroom, not uttering a single word.

at first you were ready to call him crazy; there was absolutely no way that it was true. but then you thought about his eyes, his sense of smell...and then thought about his cock...holy shit wait, was that a fucking knot??

“um, yeah, it was…” you heard him say suddenly. you jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice, not expecting him to reply. did you say that out loud by accident?

“you did.”

okay fuck, you needed to stop thinking and pull yourself together. what were you supposed to say to that? ‘oh cool, your cock has a knot and you’re a fucking werewolf, that’s super, jeno!’

jeno went on to explain the ins and outs of being a werewolf to you over the next twenty minutes, the small pink blush on his cheeks never truly leaving as he went into detail about everything. he even corrected certain cliches that were not true, a scowl making its way to his features with each inaccuracy you brought up.

“so...my brother doesn’t know?” you questioned quietly, looking down at your lap.

“no one knows besides you and my family.” he confirmed, and you looked up again to see him lean against the wall behind his back, eyes gazing sharply at you.

you panicked slightly, thinking that holy crap, now that you know, he's gonna have to kill you so the secret doesn't get out.

“oh my god,” you whimpered out, “are you going to kill me now?”

you watched his eyes widen before he choked, coughing violently before composing himself. he straightened his posture, but still didn't make any move toward you, still keeping his distance.

“what?!” he practically shouted, startling you. “of course not! why would I do that??”

you felt your face grow hot and you looked away once again, wringing your hands together on your lap. you shrugged, murmuring quietly, “i dunno...I thought you'd kill me to keep the secret, well, you know, a secret…”

you heard him sigh exasperatedly before hearing his soft voice grace your ears from across the room.

“I don't kill people, y/n.” he sounded slightly sad, and you then felt bad about assuming something so terrible of him. “the only time I kill is when my instincts become too much to control, and I snap.” his head hung low, but he quickly added. “but I’ve never actually killed a person, even if my instincts were screaming at me to.”

you tried to wrap your mind around what his wolf instincts were like; he only briefly touched on that topic earlier, seeming like he didn't want to talk about it too much. you being yourself, of course you had to pry.

“so like, what you’re saying is,” you started, your hand cupping your chin in thought as you pondered over your thoughts. “that if you were to like, hypothetically, snap right now and go all feral, you would want to kill me?” the question came out inflected as a statement, but you nonetheless awaited his answer patiently as you took in the sight of his face going through about five different emotions in the short span of a couple seconds.

“I don’t think…” he trailed off, looking down at the floor while clenching his fists. “I don’t think killing you would be my first instinct,” he looked up at you, his eyes blazing a slight yellow again as he seemingly stared into your soul. “...if you catch my drift.”

at first you were completely confused, not sure what other instincts he could express while being feral, but then it all clicked and it had your body heating up at the thought.

“oh.” you simply retorted, your eyes glazing over at the implication of him pinning you down and taking you as he pleased. “oh, fuck. you’re fuckin’ serious?”

his eyes were dark as he drank you in, his nostrils flaring slightly as he subtly sniffed the air between the both of you. dear god, you hoped that he couldn’t smell the sudden arousal that consumed you. you watched his eyes glow into a bright yellow and you felt your instincts screaming at you to run, but you held his gaze as he let a low growl escape his mouth.

“y/n,” he said, low and strained as he tried to fight his animal instincts. “you need to leave if you don’t want this, right now.” his words were final, no room for questioning.

you briefly tried to think it over; what would actually happen if you stayed and let him have you? you could probably die, first and foremost, but you shook that thought away even though it was a very real and serious possibility. you couldn’t deny your arousal at the whole thing, being taken like a bitch in heat by a guy you’ve been thirsting over for a while now. you may not get the chance to fuck a werewolf again, so you quickly made your decision.

“I’m…” you trailed off, dragging your gaze down to his neck and collarbones where you could make out the sweat forming on his perfect skin. “I’m staying, jeno.” you spoke softly to him, watching his brow furrow in confusion before smoothing out again.

you made your way to him and he stiffened up, watching your every move like a predator as you tentatively stopped in front of his panting form. reaching a hand up, you caressed his face, your breathing shaky as you leaned in closer.

“you can have me, puppy.” you threw in the last little jab with that sudden nickname just for fun, your heart soaring at the sound of the deep growl he let out upon hearing it. you fought the smile off your face as he practically pounced on you, pushing you over to the bed and pinning your body underneath his in one swift movement.

“I’m a puppy, huh?” he questioned darkly, his glowing eyes roaming over your face before his head dipped down to nose at your throat. you whimpered softly as his teeth nibbled on your sensitive skin, earning a satisfied growl from him.

you felt your shorts stick to your core from how insanely soaked you had become, and you grew hot at the idea of him pulling them down to find that you were, in fact, pantieless. he had your wrists pinned down against the mattress, not allowing you to touch him much to your annoyance. you tried to struggle against his supernaturally strong hold, but was met with a deep snarl in response. you immediately grew pliant underneath him out of pure instinct.

he pulled back, sharp canines prominent in his mouth as he fixed you with his glowing stare, red swirling with yellow in his bright irises.

“don’t fucking move,” he spat, his voice coming out low and gutteral, causing a flood of your own arousal to escape you down below. his nostrils flared for the second time that night, and he breathed in deeply at the scent of your wet and begging cunt. “be a good girl and take what I give you.”

the statement was final, and you barely had time to nod before he was tearing your t-shirt in two, biting the skin of your shoulder. his sharper teeth did not sink deep into your flesh, but when he drug the canines across your skin, you felt them rip you open. you let out what could be considered a poorly concealed scream, but it came forth as more of a moan as you felt hot blood trickle down your arm.

your shirt was in ribbons, and he looked extremely pleased as he took in the beautiful sight of your naked breasts, no bra in his way. he watched as your chest heaved up and down in anticipation, and he released your wrist to gently trail both of his hand over your body.

“your tits are so pretty,” he murmured, diving down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. he worked your other boob with one of his hands, kneading it and flicking your sensitive nipple.

your back arched into his touch, and you tried your best to stay as quiet as possible in fear of your brother hearing you.

he suckled hard; nibbling your nipple and dragging his teeth along it, causing shivers to run up your spine and your core to clench around nothing. your shorts were without a doubt ruined at this point.

your nails scratched down his back and he continued to ravage your chest, alternating between both of your breasts and teasing your sensitive buds with no remorse. it felt like hours of play, but eventually he pulled back to roughly grip the fabric of your shorts and tear them down your legs, exposing your dripping core to his hungry eyes.

you whined as he stared at you, reaching your arms out towards his own pants, wanting to see his cock again now that you were laying there, desperate and pouting for it.

his eyes shot to your face, smirking as he watched your brow furrow and your lips purse, your hands trying to grab at him from your place on the bed.

he didn’t allow you to pull his shorts down for him; instead he hooked his own thumbs in the waistband and pulled them down slowly, exposing his cock inch by inch before it finally sprung out, slapping against his stomach proudly.

your mouth watered at the sight of him once again and you moved to try to sit up, but didn’t get very far. he grasped your non-bleeding shoulder and roughly shoved you against the mattress once again, not saying anything. the stare he gave you oozed enough dominance for you to clearly get the message that he was trying to send.

jeno didn’t waste any time spreading your thighs open, two of his fingers immediately swiping through your embarrassingly wet slit before easing inside your tight hole. the stretch burned at first, considering he was starting you off with two fingers instead of one, but you welcomed the slight pain that mixed with the pleasure of him reaching up with his thumb to graze over your throbbing clit.

jeno thrusted his fingers into you gently at first, gradually picking up the pace as he went along. before you knew it he was adding a third finger, stretching your more than you’ve been stretched before.

you gasped at the feeling, your back arching off the bed as you cried out while he started finger fucking you with earnest.

“shhh, baby,” he said quietly, his movements never ceasing. “just gotta open you up for me, make sure you can take my knot.”

you held back another moan at that, thinking of how his cock would stretch you open, and how full you would feel with his knot nestled inside you.

he abruptly pulled his fingers from you, causing your back to arch again as you protested the loss of stimulation. his strength amazed you, and with one hand on your belly he pinned you down completely, sucking on the fingers of his other lewdly while stating you in the eyes.

after licking his fingers clean, (which caused heat to crawl it’s way down your belly), he kissed you sloppily on the mouth once again before gripping your waist and roughly flipping you over onto your knees.

your chest was flush against the mattress as well as your face, and your hips were lifted high in the air and you could feel the heat radiating off of him as he positioned himself behind you.

his nails drug down your sides and he gripped one of your hips with his hand, using his other to position himself at your leaking entrance. you wiggled your hips in anticipation, whining as he drug the head through your folds before slowly sinking inside you.

your fingers gripped the pillows as he bottomed out, his knot already slowly forming at the base of his shaft. it stretched you ever so slightly at the entrance of your core, and you whimpered out in pleasure as he started thrusting in and out.

the small form of his knot caught on your entrance with each precise thrust, and you were finding it very difficult to stay quiet. jeno’s breaths were heavy and every so often he would let out a soft growl as he felt his tip pound gently into your cervix.

your small whimpers were short and staggered, escaping your mouth with each thrust, which spurred him on to create a faster and harsher pace. he leaned over your back and didn’t relent as his cock punished you pussy, and when you let out a cry that was just a little bit too loud, he shoved your face right into your pillow to silence you.

“shut up,” he panted, a rumble low in his chest following his words. “just fucking take it.”

you nodded your head in response to the best of your ability, biting your lip to keep quiet as the presence of his hand left the back of your head.

he seemed to be getting close now, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge as well. it was uncommon for you to cum without any clitoral stimulation, and you were amazed at his ability to reach all of the most pleasurable spots inside you.

you felt your stomach tightening up and you gasped sharply when you felt his cock press right against your sweet spot, making you reach your high almost instantly.

you clamped around him, barely registering that he buried himself completely inside you and was now stretching you to the max with his fully developed knot. the pain of the stretch only intensified your orgasm, which had you screaming into your pillow to muffle your cries of ecstasy.

jeno growled loudly as he came shortly after, biting the back of your neck aggressively and painting your walls with his cum, emptying completely inside of you while his knot kept a single drop from escaping.

he withdrew his teeth from you, surprised that it didn’t break your skin, and gently moved the two of you to lay on your sides as you basked in the afterglow of what just occurred.

your chest heaved as you fought to catch you breath, you pussy still stretched to its limit as you laid with him. you reached an arm around to caress his face, a small show of affection as you smiled in bliss.

after catching your breath, you sat in silence for a bit, just bathing in each other’s warmth, before you had to go and open your big mouth again.

“so your knot is supposed to like, plug me up?” you questioned, your voice still sounding slightly out of breath as you panted. “to make sure I get like, hypothetically, pregnant or whatever?”

he groaned in response and gripped your hips tightly, his hips bucking and causing his still painfully hard cock to sharply jab against your sensitive insides, making you yelp.

“dear god, y/n,” he whined, his nails digging into your skin. “don’t say things like that, fuck.”

“oh, so you like that idea?” you teased, turning your head to try to look at him to the best of your ability considering your current position. “fucking me full of babies?”

his eyes stared down at you intensely, the color of his irises brightening up as he growled lowly at you. he suddenly gripped your hips and turned you both over, his body completely laying on your own as you were pressed against the mattress on your stomach.

“keep talking, y/n,” he growled out lowly, his hips pressing tightly against your ass, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. “I’ll fuck you again right now, and give you my fucking babies.”

he couldn’t see you, but you smiled contently, preparing yourself for another intense round with this beast of a man. there was a small chance that you would actually get pregnant, considering the IUD you had…but the thought of it had you ready to go at it again.

in some fucked up way, you were content with this, and you threw your hips up to grind back against him, grinning even wider as he pinned your body down even harder.

jeno fucked you like an animal until the sun came up, and your brother was none the wiser.

#nct-writers #neowritingsnet #neothestars #jeno smut #lee jeno smut #jeno #lee jeno #nct #nct dream #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct drabbles #nct dream drabbles #halloweenie special

1K notes · View notes

shirophantomvox · 3 years

Text

Random date night with Illumi, Hisoka, and Chrollo

Hello, anon! Ask and you shall receive! This prompt is very interesting and I will try to keep it in character as much as possible. To sum this up, Hisoka would take you to an ice cream shop, a carnival, or apple orchard while Illumi would rather go to an art or historical museum. Chrollo would persuade you to attend a book reading/author signing or go hiking. Depending on who you are and what your ideal date is, I’m sure you’d find them all fun. Going to a carnival or apple orchard is my go-to since I’ve barely been because they’re all in the suburbs. These headcanons are explained much more than the others. That is why Chrollo and Illumi seem to be short, but they’re not. Also, I can’t wait for Halloween because these headcanons are going to be amazing. I am extremely sorry if there are grammar errors! Taking classes on Zoom is frustrating and now my brain has to relearn everything that I lost in 3 months! Before we get started, I have a few announcements.

This post is more laid back than my other headcanons because I tried to keep it as canon as possible.

I want to thank you all for 65 followers! It means a lot! I’m happy to see that a lot of you enjoy my writing and like it enough to follow me! I have a challenge for you! When I reach 100 followers, I will host some type of writing event here...but I need ideas. I’ve seen some pages do specials where you can send an ask and pretend like you're talking to a character and I respond with what they’d say. SEND ME IDEAS! I WILL CREDIT YOU!

I will be stepping back a little more than before. I’ll still be logged in and re-blogging but as far as writing posts like this...it may only be once or twice a week. You see, I’m in college and I’m struggling financially and I have to work on scholarships. If you all send me an ask, be patient.

Voltron posts will only be created based on asks. I will not be writing posts about VLD if no one requests them. I do not receive any feedback from it anymore and no one seems to like them.

Now, let’s get into the post.

Let's start with Illumi first.

Headcanon 1: Illumi has a secret admiration for different types of art but he specifically enjoys pop art and surrealism. He has commented on how surrealism makes his brain twist and his feelings swirl as he tries to figure out the piece and what inspires it.

He prefers not to participate in tours as he likes to digest the art at his own pace.

Headcanon 2: In his spare time, he paints on a canvas. His art style consists of both surrealism and abstract art. For a person with a dark personality, his compositions always contain bright colors and abstract techniques that leave you wondering about his TRUE personality. He is truly a good man with a bright personality but after being abused for so long, those behaviors/personalities have been shoved so far down his throat that they may not come back up.

He has a bad habit of asking you what you thought about every single piece of art you passed. The conversations were great but this is a date after all. The playful conversation slowly turns into a lecture about art. Although you loved your bf’s dictionary-like brain it also drained your energy.

One of his favorite artists is Vincent Van Gough. Although he favors surrealism, Van Gogh’s art style was mind-blowing to him. So amazed that he buys several Van Gogh t-shirts from the gift shop.

His favorite piece created by Van Gough is “Starry Night”.

He notices that you are becoming bored and decides that it is time for MORE excitement, one that you are certain to enjoy.

“Where are we going,” you ask, pretending to be interested.

“Down to the basement. We are going to have a bite to eat.”

Since Illumi rarely smiled, when he did smile it drove you wild. The anticipation of what his next move was going to be is what drove that wildness. Being a bounty hunter was thrilling already but dating a smart, badass assassin was totally out of your league but it worked out.

Headcanon 3: Illumi’s idea of being romantic is dramatically different from yours. He believes just spending time with you on the couch was enough. He is correct; but if you have the time and funds, your time together should be a little spontaneous. You insisted on dates outside of the house because his family will not stay out of your business.

“Illumi, I am too hungry for more trivia.”

He chuckles. “Don’t worry. So am I. That is why I’ve decided to take you to a wine and cheese party.”

Huh? Wine and Cheese at 3PM? That’s ok. When was there a time limit on when you can drink alcohol?

Illumi has indirectly attended parties as such when he was 15 years old. He never drank, but he watched as his mother’s friends (surprisingly) talked about business and their children. This time, you weren’t going to talk about business for once. Instead, you two were going to actually talk about what couples discuss.

Headcanon 4: When introduced to alcohol for the first time, Illumi immediately stated how he hated brown liquor. That includes Hennessy, Jack Daniels, etc. It makes him sick to his stomach. He prefers to drink Smirnoff mixed with fruity drinks like strawberry or pineapple.

He loves it when you make these drinks for him on a summer day.

Hence the title wine and cheese, you both go to a stand-up table, place your brochures down, and actually have a wonderful conversation not involving work or hunting.

Illumi smiled a few times, more than usual. Whenever he appears to be softer even around you, that is because he has mellowed out and doesn't have the overbearing weight of his family on his shoulders. You set him free.

Hisoka

According to a one-shot that another manga artist created, they expressed that Hisoka was found on the side of the road, was taken in by someone that worked at a local circus, and learned Nen in a matter of days. Hisoka’s clown look and having the skills of a magician proves that this has to be canon in some way.

Headcanon 1: Given this potential backstory, going to a carnival is his go-to every summer. He wants to take you to a circus but saves that for you as an engagement gift.

Everyone with a heart knows that whether or not you’re in a relationship or not the carnival is fun as hell! Expensive fried food, elephant ears, funnel cake, ICEE’s, rides, and stuffed animals are to die for!

Being at a carnival relaxes him so his bloodlust isn’t activated unless someone bumps into him and causes a scene.

Headcanon 2: PDA is something that Hisoka does well; he doesn’t overdo it but does it enough where people get the impression that you are a couple and aren’t “best friends”.

While completing a mission depending on how rough it may be, he insists that you tag along to see how he handles the situation. You’ve already seen his ruthlessness from Hunter’s exam but he insists.

His sense of pride gets the best of him sometimes. Sometimes his head is so big that it reminds you of a large birthday balloon.

Headcanon 3: ANYWAY, given his nature, he is very adventurous, dangerous, and courageous. If he wants to go on the Demon Drop, he’ll do it and you DO not have a choice in the matter. He’ll tease or guilt trip you into doing something that you would not like to do.

“Well, you wouldn’t want me to cling on to someone else, would you?”

“No. Of course not,” you reply.

“Let’s go then, scaredy-cat.”

As a hunter, you’ve seen worse. Why are you so afraid to go on a ride?

Headcanon 4: At apple orchards, cornfield mazes are one of his favorites. You cannot for the life of you figure out how to get out but he can. He grabs a scarecrow and scares you from behind. That annoys you but is nothing compared to later on that night.

Oh. My. God. It’s haunted house time!

“Hisoka, I’m not going in!”

“Why not? I’ll protect you.”

“Because they’re monsters and I already have to deal with one.”

It took him a second to catch on that you were talking about him.

“That’s going to bite you in the butt, kitten.”

Headcanon 5: Like Killua, Hisoka has a sweet tooth. Don’t allow his buff appearance to fool you!

He LOVES caramel apples, elephant ears, funnel cake, freshly squeezed lemonade, fudge, and cotton candy. How can this man manage to stay in shape? The world may never know.

Headcanon 6: He isn’t one to play by other people’s rules but he sets his own rules with your relationship that you both must obey. One of those rules says that neither of you can be on your phones while together.

Headcanon 7: Hisoka insists that you both wear either matching pants or matching shirts to avoid unnecessary flirtation.

He isn’t jealous but on “us time”, he doesn’t want to lose a single second.

Headcanon 8: Hisoka only jumps in when necessary. Given that you’ve passed the hunter’s exam and work as a bodyguard, he knows you can handle your business. If the person can’t take a hint, then he steps in. They almost back up immediately considering Hisoka is towering over them.

When the moon shines, you both go to the car and off to sleep in your comfy king-sized bed.

Chrollo

We all know that Chrollo loves to read! What does he specifically like to read? What Genre? Does he like to read alone or with other people?

Although Chrollo is a thief and must be hidden in the shadows, the authorities have called off the search for him for at least 3 years. Slowly but surely, he begins to find himself in the outside world again.

Chrollo once discussed a book with the Phantom Troupe when they were being transported to another place for a mission. He read “Tears of a Tiger” by Sharon M. Draper.

The reading sessions are opened with an affirmation and a reason to be thankful to be alive. He says he is thankful for the troupe, glances at you, and smiles. No one catches on to that sly face except for Phinks.

Headcanon 1: Chrollo is very silent and shy to an extent. He only associates with people he knows and trusts. You are the social butterfly at this moment.

Chrollo tags along behind you like a shy child, holding your hand while you stick out your free hand to greet everyone.

Today, the book club was going to read “Divergent”.

Headcanon 2: Although he loves to read, he hates it when others read out loud. Most people are drably read and it annoys him. After a while, he takes over. Chrollo was tense the first 30 minutes of the meeting because two cops were there but neither of them noticed it was him.

Headcanon 3: Chrollo often acts the part of the character that he is reading in the book. His tone, attitude, and emphasis on certain words keep the group engaged. He is complimented on his acting!

“Good Job, honey,” you whisper.

He responds by tightly squeezing your hand.

His tone was so impressive that the host insisted that he read for the entire night. He was ok with that because in between reads he was often distracted by a lovely pair of jeans and shoes you had on. You were into writing, so hearing others read and act out the characters helped.

Headcanon 4: In some settings, Chrollo is very braggadocious. He insisted that the group read one of your stories so you could be provided with feedback.

“We’d be delighted to view your story, y/n!”

“It will be fun!”

The book club wasn’t a stereotypical club that only consisted of soccer moms but instead consisted of men and women who were involved with a business, law enforcement, health, etc. This was an open space for everyone to relax and forget about their demanding jobs.

After the meeting, the group went to dinner at a nearby pizzeria. You all enjoyed large pizzas, beer, salads, and dessert. How could your stomach (or anyone’s stomach) hold that much?

Chrollo laughed so much that it made you question if he was your actual boyfriend or not. He even engaged in conversations with the two off-duty cops! For once, you helped Chrollo experience the greater things in life; true love, friendship, and happiness.

“Thank you,” he whispered and slyly placed a kiss on your hand. “For everything.”

139 notes · View notes

livinginncity · 3 years

Text

if we were human

♚: lee rang x reader

❡: fluff??(angst, pure angst)

ⱳƈ: 2.5k

⚠︎: besides it being really bad? none really. like, literally a couple swears. it was fluff, and then it became angst, so...sorry, but not really because if i’m crying, so are you.

children could be heard all around the park. some screaming and laughing as they run behind, others crying after they tripped, only to soon be comforted by the gentle holds and hushed assurances of their mothers and fathers. a bit further away was a small dog park, from which came all kinds of barks and growl, as well as cooing of the passerby. and there at a bench, located slightly closer to the swings and slides attracting the younger humans, sat a man that looked less than pleased to be where he was.

“Guess who.” a female’s voice rang out as a soft hand covered his eyes. he merely rolled his eyes beneath their new coverings and proceeded to drag the small wrist away from his face. “y/n.”

the young woman sneered and scoffed before yanking her hand out of his grasp to walk around and join him on the bench. “I don’t like you.”

“I don’t like you either.” a smack to the back of the man’s head could be felt soon after the words left his mouth. “Yah!”

“What are you doing here anyway? I never took you for the people watching type.”

“That's because I'm not. As if they deserve that much attention.” a hand lazily lifted in the direction of a familiar little boy, the action bringing a smile to the woman’s face.

“Ahhhh. But that one’s the exception? I thought you didn’t like little kids with runny noses, something I heard you have in common with your brother actually. Is that a gumiho thing or a family thing?” the man she addressed turned his head to look at her with an unimpressed look.

“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much? Or that you ask too many questions?”

“Well considering that was one of the first things you said to me when we met, I’ll just assume you know the answer to that already.”

she turned to look where the man’s gaze had previously been fixed and he followed suit. their eyes moved as they followed the movements of the young boy whose energy seemed to rival that of a puppy’s. ‘how fitting’ was the thought that came to the pair. minutes passed before they changed positions—the girl moving to settle her head on her company’s shoulder. said company shook her off before she repeated the action, leaving her be the second time. and he stayed in place even after she dragged his head to rest upon her own.

“Rang-ah.” the man simply grunted in response, urging her to continue. “I hate this.”

his eyebrows furrowed slightly at the sudden proclamation. “The kids? The families? Parks? I don’t really like them either. The first are messy and demanding, the second is an extremely unrealistic dynamic, and the last are way too loud and crowded.”

“No.” she took in her surroundings before speaking again. “This. I love all of this. I want it all. The kids are adorable and it feels so rewarding to be someone they rely on and look up to. I’ve had my fair share of family drama, but I’ve always wanted my own that I could cherish—pointless fights and all. And parks are probably one of my favorite places because it gives me everything I need to imagine what it’d be like if I had the first two.”

“What?” at her words he lifted his head to look down at her.

“I hate all of this shit that’s going on right now. It was one thing when you were just this occasional menace to your brother, but now the Imugi is involved and Lee Yeon refuses to let Ji Ah go again. It’s caused so many problems and with them, questions to be asked. Things could be so much simpler. Don’t you ever think about what life would be like if we were all human? This would all just be some petty high school drama. Like, Lee Yeon got class president in school and now, years later, both he and Imugi are CEOs competing in the nightclub industry or something like that.”

“You’re starting to sound like Lee Yeon. I guess you’re just as lame as him. Or maybe even lamer because really? That’s the best you can do with this fake drama?”

“Did I ever tell you that I ran into Soo Ho before you got the Tiger’s Brow back from him?” she ignored the questions, but her own annoyed him slightly. before he could respond. “I asked him if I could try them on and walked to the nearest window I could see myself in.”

“So, what’d you see? What were you? A Snake? A rat? Pufferfish?” her only response to his teasing was a pinch to the side. she shook her head before continuing.

“I saw a child.” her face changed to a solemn one. “All I saw was a snot-nosed little kid that the world seemed to have it out for. I didn’t even live long enough to have many firsts. And no one was ever there for the few I did. Well, there was one. Towards the end, I think my final year, I met an old lady. She lived alone, but she took me in the moment we crossed paths. She gave me my own room, let me help her cook, as much as a child could help, and she would always tell me these stories of her husband who had passed about a decade before. In just a few months, that woman gave me what felt like a lifetime of love. All while I was slowly dying, she made me forget the hardships, the neglect, the hatred, and by some cruel fate, she died first. But before she went, she said to me “treat my death as not another result of this terrible world, but take it as a sign that even when we know that our end is inescapable, we are able to cherish the temporary moments in which we are truly happy should we allow ourselves that much.” And so,”

the woman finally lifted her head from the gumiho’s shoulder to look into his eyes. “I think, if I could be reincarnated as a human again, I would. But since it’s probably never gonna happen I want to live like one. Get married, have a family, get mad when someone doesn’t show up for the holidays. I don’t know if I’d make it as a human with everything I know now, and I honestly don’t want to be human right-right now because I probably wouldn’t get to be around you. And I also just can’t imagine how you’d get by without seeing me every day.”

“Don’t act like you’re anything special.” he scoffed and looked back at the playground.

“You don’t have to admit it.” she stood up from the bench, looked over to the young boy he had taken in, and turned back. the woman grabbed his face and, after looking at the man for a few seconds, leaned in. “I know you love me.” and then she ran. “Soo Ho-ah! Let me play with you, that old fox is being mean again!”

“Yah!” he didn’t get up to chase her. she was right no matter how much he thought about it. somehow that weird girl wormed her way into the list of people he more than tolerated. and as he sat alone with his thoughts, he watched her play with the reincarnated boy, the latter seemingly winning their current sword fight.

does he ever wanna be human? no, it seems way too boring. does he like kids? he likes one, so that’s good enough. will he get married at some point? well, it’s just some rings and paper. and it’s not like he isn’t in love with that girl in the park.

bonus;

“Hey, y/n. If you’re watching this then...you know. I figured a couple good deeds might do me well in the afterlife, so what better way than finally letting my brother be with the girl he’s waited hundreds of years for.”

“You crazy bastard.” those were the only words that she could force her mouth to speak as she looked down at the small screen.

“I know you’re probably cursing me right now, thinking ‘this crazy bastard.’” somehow they both managed to let out a chuckle. “You know I don’t like vulgar words, but I’m not there, so i told Soo-Ho to pinch you for me every time one leaves your mouth.”

“Of course you did. It’s already a habit of his now.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye. Especially to you, Yu Ri, and Soo-Ho. I didn’t get to say thank you, either. You’ve all helped me more than I’d ever care to admit, but I really am grateful to have shared part of my life with you. I got to help Yu Ri like Lee Yeon helped me, got to meet Blacky again, and I got to experience so many things with you.”

the tears in her eyes were already brimming and it was clear they wouldn’t stay there long. “y/n.” she looked back to the screen as he called her name.

“go to the nightstand on the right of my bed and open the drawer.” the girl got up from her place at the edge of the bed and walked over to the wooden table. with her phone in her left, she used her right to open the drawer, and she could feel her heartbeat stutter as she laid her sights on the black velvet box that sat in it. she reached a shaky hand to pick it up, and when she flipped it open she couldn’t help dropping the phone as she brought the other to her mouth with a choked sob. all she could do was shake her head and let the tears subject themselves to gravity.

“Do you remember that day in the park?” despite not being able to actually see through the endlessly flowing tears, she managed to scramble around and find the device that had slipped from her grasp. “You were talking about all this stuff like marriage, family, kids—what it’d be like to be human because things would be so much simpler. And while I don’t think anyone could ever convince me that being human would be fun, I figured we could at least do some of those human things. We were kind of halfway there, you know? You practically live in my apartment, and Soo-Ho took over the living room with his toys, so it was only a matter of time for him to get his own room so I could stop stepping on legos—maybe get a door with a lock from the outside so I don’t have to worry about waking up covered in stickers.”

she laughed as she recalled the memory, his interactions with the little boy, and their goofy smiles when things were calm for once. “You dorks were made to follow each other into every life.”

“I was gonna propose to you after this whole thing was over. Once I knew Lee Yeon was safe and not being targeted by a wannabe dragon. I’m sorry I couldn’t give that to you or...our own kid, though I think the one we have now is pretty great. And I’m also really sorry that I’m finally telling you this once it’s too late, but you were right. About what you said that day.” her breath hitched as she saw the tears glisten while they slid down his face. “I love you.

as if it were clockwork, a sob made its way from her throat and the tears began again.

“Yah, stop crying already. Please. I’d be upset if I was the cause of it.” and she tried, she really did, but it wasn’t as easy as he made it sound. “And, I know this is probably asking a lot for all that I’ve put you through, but can you wear it? At least for a little bit. Just think of it as a way of honoring my memory—the better parts obviously. You can keep my apartment if you want, too. Soo-Ho might be a job better-fit for Sin-Ju and Yu Ri, but if he says he wants to stay with you, you better let him.”

another laugh emitted from between the sobs as she listened to his final message.

“I really do love you, y/n. And if there is ever a chance of us finding each other again, I’ll tell you every chance I get. Anyway, I think it’s time for me to go now. I only have a couple more minutes and I don’t think the others are gonna make it in time. I’m scared if I’m being honest, y/n. I’m afraid of being alone, but you helped me not feel like that all the way up to the end—I finally had a family. So thank you. Love you.” and he smiled his big, child-like smile before adding on, “And don’t tell Lee Yeon I said sorry, or thank you, or I love you that much in under ten minutes.”

and just like that, it was over. no more, dumb family feuds, no more naengmyeon with no eggs because someone would always steal it, no more Lee Rang. she stared at the paused screen for what felt like hours before setting it to the side on the bed, to do as he had asked. carefully, she took the ring out from the safety of its cushions and slid it onto her left hand. she let out a shaky breath as she stared at her ring finger and she said it back, hoping that somehow, someway, he would hear it. “I love you too, Lee Rang-ah.”

it was a while before she moved from that spot—getting on her feet only to answer the door that had just rung. opening it, she could have seen the man who had taken the place of Lee Rang’s in the living world, but all she saw at that moment was an older brother who had also lost someone he loved.

“Lee Yeon-ah.” it was then that the male finally took in her appearance. she wore jeans, one of his brother’s sweaters, and her hair was in a bun that had clearly seen better days. but what really caught his attention as his eyes traveled, was the black box in her right hand, and shining silver band on her left. then he lifted his eyes back to hers to see just how tired she was. “Lee Yeon-ah. I miss him.”

the man simply brought her into his chest as she sobbed. and she cried, and she cried, and all the while he stood there with her in his embrace. it was all he could do, he couldn’t offer her words of comfort just yet because, even now she may be much stronger than he is. because she’s strong enough to live without the promise of his reincarnation. she knows she may never see him again, but won’t risk exchanging her life just so he won’t go through the same thing.

“I miss him so much.” her voice cracked as the words came out, and he ran his hand over her hair.

“I know, I know. I miss him, too.”

#tale of the nine tailed #tale of gumiho #lee rang #lee rang x reader #lee rang imagine #kim bum #kdrama #kdramanetwork #lee yeon #lee dong wook #i wrote the first part two episodes before the final one #so after acting it out in the shower i wrote the bonus part

392 notes · View notes

forgiveness-in-the-misery · 3 years

Text

Skwisgaar's Psychology

After rewatching Metalocalypse a total of three times ever since the news of the potential finale movie I kind of had a realization; I really fucking love Skwisgaar. I also started by halfway through rewatch two realized that his story and background and general psychology is really fucking fascinating to me.

So I am going to do my best to discuss his character and his psychology and how we see him progress through the show....I already did this with Toki a while back and kind of would love to do it with Murderface and maybe Pickles as well, I'd say Nathan, but he's the....least fucked up in a sense.

Skwisgaar let's start has the most dialogue in the first couple of seasons of the show and even then it isn't overwhelming compared to the other members of the band. By season four he speaks very little and rarely.

When we are introduced to him in the beginning of the show he seems to be like the rest of the group; a diva spoiled rich rocker who has been grossly wealthy for so long that he's forgotten how to function as a human.

You also with the first season especially have this running gag that isn't even a running gag that Skwisgaar or Toki will say something weird and then the other will add onto it and they just say weird shit about life and death or the violence of man, it's weird, and strangely endearing.

Which speaking of how those two play off each other brings me to the fact the pilot episode immediately establishes that these two are almost always together. The band goes to a grocery store and everybody splits up, except for Skwisgaar and Toki who go off together when in all reality that isn't remotely necessary. We also learn in that first episode that Skwisgaar gets pissed when Toki teases him and calls him a woman despite Skwisgaar calling him one like a second earlier and also that Skwisgaar is sexually attracted to elderly women.

Two things are heavily associated with Skwisgaar as a character; he is extremely sexually active and he's got his guitar with him in 99% of scenes. Skwisgaar also doesn't appear to be the most talkative, he can be bitchy and throw tantrums like the rest of his bandmates, but also seems to be more prone to crying and becoming anxious or worried for his friends and their wellbeing/safety, in terms of socializing he seems to be a bit awkward and seems the most comfortable communicating through sex and music. He's teasing and can be a dick, but there's no real edge to it. He also while seeming in some regards to be a bit....dumb to be blunt about it seems to actually be rather smart, though often seems to just keep that to himself probably because he knows who his friends are and they aren't prone to listening to people.

Season one wasted no time in introducing the band's parents and this included Skwisgaar's mother, Serveta. One thing that I do find super interesting is that he is the only member of the band who comes from a single mother, technically it isn't interesting, but the theory (probably canon) that their fathers aren't really their fathers at all and that their mothers became pregnant by the Deth Star makes it interesting. To me at least.

With Skwisgaar's mom in regards to the first season of the show we quickly learn that their relationship is strained. She's an older woman who just like Skwisgaar is very sexually active, we see her come onto Nathan's father who is married and sitting with his wife and son, Skwisgaar's reaction to this is to get upset and begin frantically playing his guitar. Skwisgaar spends a good portion of this episode drinking and at one point saying that ever since his mom got there his stomach had been hurting and he'd just been feeling like absolute shit. When we see him bonding with his mom he's brushing her hair and looking like he'd rather be dead or any place else, seeing him helping her groom is weirdly a red flag to me.

We learn by the third season of the show that his mother is intensely vain and in love with herself, she resents Skwisgaar because being pregnant with him and giving birth to him ruined her 'perfect' body and I'm sure the years where he was too young to fend for himself annoyed her because it meant she couldn't party or have men over or run off whenever she wanted, something I get the feeling that changed when he was about ten years of age. In a bonus video that comes with the first season of the show you see interviews with the band on various random topics; one of the scenes that is...uncomfortable to say the least is when family is brought up. Skwisgaar begins to say something, but trails off and becomes visibly upset before saying he's just going to shut down for a while, Toki confesses some more physical abuse before also shutting down.

I'm going to take a guess that Skwisgaar only had his mother when he was growing up and she only had him, I'm sure she has parents and maybe even siblings and aunts and uncles, but it appears that she has absolutely no relationship with them and Skwisgaar most probably never met these people.

The walls of Serveta's home sport dozens of headshots of herself and a couple of pictures of Skwisgaar as a kid thrown up by the front door almost as an after thought. It's likely and most probable that Skwisgaar was thrusted into the position of caretaker and even a husband sort of position when it came to his relationship with his mom; given the task of looking after her, holding her hair back when she pukes after a night of drinking, doing laundry, cooking, cleaning, etc. We know when he was about ten or thirteen years old he came home from school to find his mom having sex with two men, an event that scared him and led to him being chased by wolves and falling into a pit where if he weren't a demi-god he legit would have died. I feel like his mom reached a point with him where she stopped caring whether or not he saw her....personal life, perceiving him as an adult despite still just being a boy and also seeing him as somebody who is taking up space in her home and preventing her from having fun.

When she marries Tyr they're all over each other constantly....until Skwisgaar and Tyr become friends and begin spending time together, then she cheats on him. She was jealous that her latest man wasn't giving her constant attention and got angry at the concept of sharing him with her own child, which is super fucked up.

Skwisgaar throughout the show has a fake persona. He likes to pretend he in some way is like his mom; he likes to pretend he has his head up his own ass and doesn't need anybody but himself, he loves himself more than he could ever love another person. Which isn't true. At all.

I think that growing up with a narcissistic parent who emotionally neglected and emotionally abused him put him in a position where he had to shut down like that. He had to learn at a very young age that crying and yelling and being angry gets nothing done except maybe piss his mom off more, after finding his guitar he threw himself into music and appeared to shut himself off socially, preferring music over human interactions.

Music is something that Skwisgaar can rely on no matter what happens; he will always have a guitar, he will always be able to create music even if it is just for himself and nobody else. People come and go, people physically hurt you, people emotionally hurt you, or make you feel worthless. When we see the flashback to the night Magnus was kicked out of Dethklok Skwisgaar is faded into the background, almost like a ghost with his slumped shoulders and his hair curtaining his face as if he wants to just disappear. When they're auditioning for a replacement Skwisgaar is positive he doesn't want somebody else in the band, that they are fine just being four.

I think it comes from the fact he was terrified of repeating what just happened with Magnus, finding somebody he might think he can bond with over music only for that person to turn into a monster who makes him feel like he can't even do the thing he loves more than anything correctly....Then Toki came in and when they had their duel it quickly turned from a competition into a conversation. Because that's the one way Skwisgaar knows how to communicate, the way he is the most comfortable with; he likes to communicate through guitar and finding somebody who he could speak to through music excited him.

It's clear for obvious age related reasons that Skwisgaar has/had a care taker role where Toki is concerned. I mean he was about 15/16 when Skwisgaar took him into the band so he was a literal child, even when he's older Skwisgaar still looks out for him and is in his own sense immensely protective where he's concerned. Skwisgaar is also that way with the rest of the band even if it's more subtle. He worries about his bandmates, if they get injured or nearly killed it bothers him and he doesn't want anything to happen to them. When the band is going to break up he completely shuts down, because admit to it or not they had become the only family he ever had. I think Skwisgaar is so hard wired from his childhood to care for people that it's something he can't shake and maybe with the band he doesn't feel its a bad habit, because unlike with his mom, his bandmates arent forcing him to look after them. It's something he does because he wants to do it.

Of course in regards to his attraction to older women that definitely comes from issues relating to his mother....I don't think it's in a creepy Freud way, but more so just wanting to feel cared for back. Very obviously he can't exactly approach any of his bandmates and ask for a hug....well except maybe Toki and Pickles if he's super drunk or high, but outside of those two instances....they aren't people he could exactly just ask for validation or comfort or consolation. They aren't....good with that shit. Older women though usually have a tendency to be coddling and kind, Skwisgaar probably learned that as a teen or in his twenties, I think it's less about the sex factor and just feeling important. In terms of sex with people closer to him in age (I will die on the hill that he's bisexual, because he keeps just throwing it out there that he would blow a guy and he had multiple three ways with Melmord) I think it's a distraction for the most part, he uses sex the same way he often uses music, and honestly....He grew up seeing his mother have men over constantly.

Skwisgaar didn't grow up seeing love or healthy relationships, he saw his mom parade various men through the house and maybe she kept some of them for a while and I doubt the relationships were healthy and I'm sure he knew that his mother didn't love any man she dated or married for a short while. Even in the show he isn't fond of love or marriage, the only time he dates somebody is when he moves back to Sweden and finally starts to get his life together in a more healthy sense and that relationship didn't feel like it was based on sex. It was based on physical and emotional affection and it was the only time Skwisgaar ever looked actually happy in terms of intimacy.

Sex is a job, a chore for him; he's the God of Life so it's technically what....it's y'know his thing, creating life. As a lot of people notice....he seems far more sexually active after him and Toki's second fight in regards to music and petty bull shit. Season four is essentially the season where Salacia gets what he wanted aka the band tearing itself apart and you can see them all fall apart individually. For Skwisgaar falling apart means closing himself off, throwing himself more into his guitar and more into sex. He becomes more of a tool and an object as if that's all he wants to be, because being a person who opens yourself up and lets people in and tries to care about people ends up with you being hurt, badly.

Which does bring things back to his super complicated slightly homoerotic to the point even the show had to mention it for a hot second relationship with Toki.

We can gather from Doomstar that Toki was far more into music when he first joined Dethklok which I think worked out great for Skwisgaar, because as I said before; Skwisgaar communicates through music and this gave him somebody that he could talk to without the awkwardness of verbally conversing.

Though that changed clearly and you can feel that Skwisgaar is bothered by it, like in some weird way it feels like a minor betrayal. Toki notoriously never practices or puts in a lot of effort in terms of making music which Skwisgaar often comments on, complains about, or gets on him about. Reasonable. Guitar is part of who he is, but at the end of the day a talent that made him rich, that's what it is to Toki.....Skwisgaar on the other hand his guitar is literally an extension of himself and seeing him without a guitar in his hand for longer than a single scene gets weird.

Still despite the two of them losing the art of communicating through their music....they're close. Super fucking close. If you watch Metalocalypse and tell yourself going into the show that you're going to focus heavily on a single character or on a certain relationship you notice a ton of shit. Like you notice that Toki and Skwisgaar almost always sit together, stand together, talk over one another, finish each others weird sentences or ideas, copy each other to the point they spend an entire episode bickering like children over copying each other, and often spend their time hanging out together. Again. They're really close as if they're a single person split into two.

They're close to the point that inverse their fans just to some extent assume the two of them are fucking and madly in love and I mean I'm gonna be honest just objectively speaking here I would not be surprised to find out they have had sex before at least once or more times. Just saying.

That aside though and just sticking to the platonic here....They're close, Toki means as much to Skwisgaar as guitar does, and that's saying a lot. One big reason I want to bring up their relationship is that his relationship with Toki brings to light Skwisgaar's issues with death or more specifically death where Toki is concerned.

In season one when Toki has a bit of a breakdown and Pickles suggest they kill him, Skwisgaar looks tense and uncomfortable and says that he doesn't like the idea because it's a lot and it makes him feel not so good. In a deleted scene where the band watch Nascar together Pickles ask Toki and Skwisgaar if they were supposed to be dead or in jail or something because it's the same episode where they got shit faced and got into a high speed chase. Skwisgaar when responding about it changes the word dead/death out for sleep, stating they were supposed to be put to sleep but just had to do community service instead (Toki corrects that it was jail, not being put to sleep). In the deleted IKEA scene when Toki stressed says maybe the two of them should just kill themselves Skwisgaar immediately freaks out and later when they return to Nathan and Murderface they both look super emotionally fucked up and when Nathan ask if they had been crying Toki gets defensive and says no while Skwisgaar beginning to cry again says they had been crying. Then of course after Toki ruins Skwisgaar's reputation and becomes Magnus Jr. for a few weeks and ends up having a panic attack and making an ass of himself....Skwisgaar thinks he's having a heart attack and freaks the fuck out terrified that he's dying.

Then finally for a compilation of Skwisgaar not handling Toki dying well; in Doomstar before they go in to save Toki Skwisgaar makes the sorrowful comment that sometimes he wonders if they should have stayed a one guitar band. It isn't him being a dick, he isn't saying this isn't worth it. He's saying essentially that Toki was stabbed, kidnapped and possibly murdered and it's completely his fault; if he hadn't taken Toki in then none of this would have happened. Which immediately leads me to believe that post the funeral episode that Skwisgaar spent those months high and drunk and late at night blaming himself for Toki being taken/murdered. That's a lot of blame to put onto yourself and to say its your fault solely because a few years ago you took this kid in off the streets is honestly heart breaking.

Early on in the series there's an episode where Toki's pissed that he isn't seen as Skwisgaar's musical equal, he wants solos, and Skwisgaar turns him down. Which through the series and within that episode itself we easily learn why Skwisgaar never gives him a solo; Toki has performance anxiety and he never practices and quite honestly knows almost nothing about guitar. It's valid. Either way in this particular episode Toki gets pissed and decides he wants to take lessons, Skwisgaar offers and Toki turns him down because last time they tried...he kind of just ended up beating the shit out of Skwisgaar. (to be fair don't dump a bucket of blood on your friend's head) So he goes off and finds an elderly man to teach him how to play guitar, Murderface being a dick decides to tell Skwisgaar that Toki is super good at guitar now and.....Skwisgaar doesn't react well. He gets pissed off and has nightmares about Toki becoming better than him. He even confronts Toki and his guitar teacher and threatens to kick him out of the band. When he realizes at the end of the episode that Toki is still....really not great with music....he's chill again, everything is forgiven.

I kind of think that episode is a reason people perceived Skwisgaar as a dick or is one reason, but honestly he isn't being a dick. I mean sure, a bit, but they're all dicks. The thing is guitar is a crutch for Skwisgaar, it is super important to him and he doesn't know who he is without his guitar, without his music. So somebody else threatening to take that from him freaks him out and he reacts poorly to it.

Then we get to near the end of the show when the same issue arises except completely different. Toki again later in the series ask Skwisgaar for a solo and Skwisgaar annoyed refuses him, Toki being the mild psycho shit that he is decides to just kind of ruin his life as revenge. Again by this point in the show its kind of obvious if you actually pay attention at all that Skwisgaar keeps telling him he can't have solos because Toki never fucking practices and even in the studio Skwisgaar has to record most of the rhythm guitar parts. He's also known since Toki's audition that the kid is prone to choking up and making mistakes, so he's technically protecting him without just outright confronting him.

Toki writes a book calling out Skwisgaar as an abusive tyrant and an over dramatic bitch. Admittedly Skwisgaar is a slight diva and just like the rest of them can be a total asshole, admittedly to a lesser degree than the others. What's really fucking interesting for me personally about this episode is that Skwisgaar is catatonic and depressed for 99% of it. He doesn't speak. This starts literally the second that Toki releases his book saying that Skwisgaar abuses him, this is before Skwisgaar's career goes down the toilet, his career hadn't been impacted by this yet.

Skwisgaar falls to pieces because Toki, Toki who he's known since he was just sixteen and took in off the streets and they're always practically attached at the hip and have been since day one just released a book calling him an abusive monster.

I do have a feeling one reason this fucked him up is because he might be terrified that he's turning into Magnus without realizing it, that perhaps he has become an abusive monster and has been making Toki feel the way that Magnus made him feel towards the end of his time in Dethklok. I think there also is probably something soul crushing about the person you love platonically or otherwise referring to you very publicly as abusive. Of course all of this worsens when Skwisgaar's career begins to fall to shit, eventually towards the end when Toki is at the top of his ego trip being a prick Skwisgaar does confront him, that in itself is interesting.

Skwisgaar goes in way calmer than I would be in that situation, sure he gets pissed off as they bicker, but again he's waaayyyy fucking calmer than anybody else would be especially since Toki just yells at him through the entire conversation. Of course interestingly is that Toki perceives Skwisgaar in a way that isn't entirely true, he thinks Skwisgaar mocks him and thinks of him as nothing which isn't true at all, when he says Skwisgaar laughed at him he just responds that he never did that and he sounds slightly hurt by that. They're both hurt and none of these men are good with healthy emotions. Skwisgaar never loses his shit on him in the entire conversation, he looks like he could easily go ape shit but instead warns him that the audience will eat him alive the second he fucks up.

Which turns out to be true, Toki fucks up and people begin turning against him which leads to him having a severe panic attack. Like I mentioned before Skwisgaar thinks he's dying and tries to save him, scared out of his fucking mind at the concept of Toki dying. Which....the dude just spent several weeks treating you like garbage and calling you a monster who abuses him, if Skwisgaar was actually a shitty person then he would have laughed at him or mocked him or given him shit about this moment for years to come....but he doesn't do any of that. He is worried about saving him, probably terrified that if Toki dies then their last conversation was a fight.

Their dynamic changes a lot after this, not in a way that's overly obvious unless you watch it closely. They spend a lot less time together and what feels almost out of character initially in Dethcamp is....Skwisgaar easily going along with Murderface and bitching about Toki, because....again can't stress the Scandinavian dudes are always attached at the hip and now suddenly he's easily saying mean shit about Toki. It feels weird until you remember that not long before this they had a massive fight, Toki called him abusive and momentarily ruined his career and most likely afterwards tried to act like nothing happened at all while Skwisgaar probably wasn't capable of doing that.

Occasionally in season four Skwisgaar and Toki will sit together or stand together, still talk or have that physical closeness but it's far between and you see Toki spend a majority of his time with the toxic trio: Murderface, Rockso, and Magnus. Skwisgaar spends his time typically with Murderface and Pickles then near the end spends most of his time with Nathan.

Skwisgaar is a person who grew up in a home lacking affection and love or safety, he didn't grow up with examples of love or healthy relationships and as far as he's concerned relationships are a waste of time and energy because they all end the same.

Of course for as much as he says that, as they all say that....it's bull shit. He cares deeply about his bands and him trying to act near the end like Dethklok was just another gig it isn't, these people are his close friends and his only real family. Seeing Pickles and Nathan fall apart wrecked him and having Toki turn on him so easily gutted him. Skwisgaar is a super emotionally fragile person, he seems absolutely terrified of showing anger or aggression as if it's something he's never been comfortable with or learned when he was young gets you nowhere or perhaps there were men around who were violent and loud and it made him scared to ever be that way. He's the only one of the band we never see really lose his shit or be randomly aggressive and violent, he also strangely enough cries the most out of them canonically. People always make the assumption Toki cries a lot, but like canonically he cries waaayyyy fucking less than Skwisgaar.

I really find Skwisgaar interesting....clearly and this analysis might be a jumbled mess, but there's strangely a lot of things to unpack and things I probably didn't even touch on as much as I could have, because this is already insanely long. I have a deep appreciation of him rewatching this show now that I'm older and far more into analyzing works of fiction.

I hope that this was remotely coherent.

#metalocalypse #skwisgaar skwigelf #character analysis #character psychology

72 notes · View notes

wowsoboring · 3 years

Text

Deconstructing Baseless Harry Potter Arguments#2 (i) : Harmione Edition

Obviously I once again do not mean to target all Harmione shippers. I know quite a few who're very good human beings and tolerant and accepting above all. However these aren't. In this case, you might sense quite a bit of levelheadedness in the beginning, however you must not be fooled as it goes south and takes a nasty turn very quickly. Don't get your hopes up, this is some of the worst shit I've ever seen, especially the way in which it progresses through its course. Naturally, for this post I have picked my own style of writing which will match that of those redditors. Reddit is the perfect breeding ground for all these weird cults, honestly. I shall be resorting to a formal language and style of conversation, very much like a debater would to sound as pretentious as these do. These posts are found on the instagram handle toxicharmonyshippers who gather such toxic musings and sayings for Harmione shippers while respecting the ones that are nice.

Oh yes, let's use words like 'vehemently' to sound smart, why not? Of course, this little tidbit of the highly stupendous post seems more or less civil at the start. They also have the common decency to say "some Romione shippers" rather than generalizing all of us. Very nice of you, how very saint like. Let's wait till they drop the act and show us their true colors. Harkening back to the argument, I have but one question for you, "where do you find these people?". Where's the proof? Who are these radical Romione shippers who worship Ron and dislike Hermione? I haven't seen any such shippers and I am surrounded by Romione shippers on tumblr, instagram and fan fiction sites as well and haven't met the people you speak of. Some point out her flaws, yes, but no one hates her or dislikes her that much. I have seen two or three Romione shippers across hundreds and thousands who're skeptical of Hermione's perfection. Skeptical. Not hating, disliking, or anything. Of course, unlike this person, I have evidence: find these pi charts for your referral (clickable): https://imgur.com/a/QfPnQbB

you can, through these, see the amount of Hermione bashing across Harry Potter fanfiction and you can see that even in Romione fanfiction there's more Ron bashing. Hermione-bashing is a non-issue. That's what it is. Regarding the "nagging" statement, where's the lie in that? "Annoying" is somewhat subjective, I personally don't find her annoying at all. Who are these people and how often do you find them? "Mary Sue" is only reserved for Movie!Hermione. I have only seen book fans call her that. No one has ever called Book!Hermione Mary Sue. The movie does paint her as a flawless, all-rounder who's also drop-dead gorgeous. Only things she's bad at are flying and divination, all of which she denounces as useless, even though flying is like biking for wizards, divination, sure, not that important. with a teacher like Trelawney, even I would denounce it as hokum.

Remember what I said about waiting for them to show us their true colors, well here they are. Bask in the glory of their senseless arguments. Why, I am from reddit, heck I have 25 thousand karma points on there, I just left because it was too stupid for me but I can argue like them very well. And in this case I would like to say that these people are under the impression that Ron is just there in the story for the sake of existence. And he doesn't work hard. That argument is of course, wrong. Because Ron (in no particular order):

1) fights a troll when he's 11

2) is willing to sacrifice himself when he's 11

3) stands up for his friends

4) makes sure Harry feels like he belongs in the family

5) worries about Harry and rescues him from literal jail

6) stands up against Draco rather than by-standing and enabling his behavior

7) tries his level best to make sure Norbert the dragon is in safe hands and carries it out, albeit not in perfection

8) is with Harry every step of the way in his confronting the basilisk

9) sends Harry and Hermione long letters and calls them often to check up on them

10) stands up on a bitten leg to defend his best friend

11) always apologizes for any of his mistakes and is forgiving when others wrong him

12) works his way to join the Quidditch team unlike Draco who most certainly bought his way in

13) destroys at least 2 horcruxes

14) finds out how to defeat a horcrux

15) has an excellent enough memory and observation to notice Harry speaking parseltongue and also using it to his benefit which proves he's resourceful

now since I have 8 more such pictures to rebut and I do have a life, I will stop. These aren't even a twelfth of the remarkable things Ron has done though, so rest assured.

oh wait what did you say about him just existing and not working for anything? If I recall correctly, he did just as well as Harry did in school and didn't score well only in subjects he didn't care about. Which is true for most people except for Hermione who has an eidetic memory which not everyone has, understandably. Rote memorization is not the best way to get by in life, by the way.

what are the "so many reasons" behind why Harry is the best fit for Hermione? Kindly share so I can rebut those too, I'm rather free nowadays, my finals have been cancelled. You say there are so many reasons but don't even give one, yet you want me to take you seriously. I'm afraid that's impossible.

Romione shipper here, i don't dislike Hermione. I haven't met or seen many people in the book!romione fandom who dislike Hermione (except for Movie!Hermione). The question of someone you like ending up with someone you dislike doesn't particularly make sense. In Friends, Chandler ends up with Monica: now I'm not the biggest Monica fan (I don't hate her but I don't like her very much either) but they are my favorite couple because they make sense. It's about compatibility and character traits, not liking or disliking because that's just a set-up for a ghastly invitation for people to pair up hideousness. "Oh yeah, I like Harry and I also like Hagrid, they should be together. I mean it would be very very disgusting but that's my logic, now, you can't fight it. "- that's how you sound. Please read what you write. Your logic is just...abysmal. That's all I can say without breaking my resolve and berating you with colorful profanities.

This is without the doubt, the easiest one to rebut. It's a delight to see such terrible arguments at my disposal. Come on, dear Harmione shippers, write something that makes me question my choices, not things that make me scoff in disbelief.

In this case, you're essentially providing us with theories. Unproved theories and speculation of what you believe because you'd say anything you like. Where's the proof of your theory, though? Where is that crazy radical Romione shipper who does this? Kindly show me these people. Oh yes, you wanna say we objectify Hermione and disrespect her and view her as a prize. This aches me, that you believe this. No one has ever insinuated this, ever, in the history of anything. What is this winner-loser theory? How do you round off Harry Potter to "an alpha-male ends up with lead-lady" trope and still say you're a fan of the series? Harry Potter doesn't fit in with that format. Ron, Hermione and Harry are co-heroes. Similar to how there's no main character in Friends or the Heroes of Olympus series or the Avengers. We're not living in the 80s anymore. Hermione will be a hero, invariably whether she ends up with Harry, Ron or no one. She ends up with Ron and that's it. Talking about her like this doesn't make you sound any better either. Now you're calling me a misogynist because I don't support the ship of two people who describe themselves as siblings. That's very mature of you. Well here's the thing- I'm not a misogynist. It's as simple as that. I believe that women are capable of anything and everything. I believe Hermione is an amazing person and she is a hero and a different person. I believe the series would be impossible without her. I believe she is no one's prize. There's no requirement of a prize. I just think, similar to canon and the truth and her romantic interest, she will have a great relationship with Ron. There's nothing complex or deep about it, really. No personal weird-thing, no psychological complex, no internalized misogyny. There's nothing deeper than what I said. I am not sexist. I am a feminist. I am all for women empowerment. I love women with the fabric of my being. I love Hermione. I think she's amazing. You only become sexist when you ship people with unstable power dynamics, a bully-victim relation or something of the sort. Neither Romione, nor Harmione are sexist. Heck if you paired Neville with Hermione you wouldn't be sexist. And I hate talking about this so much, I can't even tell you. This talk does make it sound like I treat Hermione like an object and I assure you I respect her and I normally won't talk like this unless someone just outright calls me sexist for something that's not sexist. And this is that situation.

in the case of Romione, no one is too good for anyone. Both are amazing people who're heroes and have done amazing work. That's all I have to say. There's no league, they are romantically interested in each other. I have no intention on sounding lame, but, in love there is no league. As long as you're not putting in any effort and are extremely lazy and leech off of your partner, there is no such concept and no, Hermione is not "too good" for him. Unless of course you're talking about movie Hermione, who is too good for anyone.

5) (halftime!)

oh yes they try to pull this off and wonder why we hate them. Classic. This person likes to sound british, so let's switch up our language, yeah? At least then I won't be out of my element. Let me correct ya, Ron at his best is an amazing, loyal, friendly, brave, strategic hero. There you have it. Ron and 'git' can't be used in the same sentence. Now if you talk about Ron's achievements, I re-iterate you to point two. If it's too much work, here:

1) fights a troll when he's 11

2) is willing to sacrifice himself when he's 11

3) stands up for his friends

4) makes sure Harry feels like he belongs in the family

5) worries about Harry and rescues him from literal jail

6) stands up against Draco rather than by-standing and enabling his behavior

7) tries his level best to make sure Norbert the dragon is in safe hands and carries it out, albeit not in perfection

8) is with Harry every step of the way in his confronting the basilisk

9) sends Harry and Hermione long letters and calls them often to check up on them

10) stands up on a bitten leg to defend his best friend

11) always apologizes for any of his mistakes and is forgiving when others wrong him

12) works his way to join the Quidditch team unlike Draco who most certainly bought his way in

13) destroys at least 2 horcruxes

14) finds out how to defeat a horcrux

15) has an excellent enough memory and observation to notice Harry speaking parseltongue and also using it to his benefit which proves he's resourceful

hey, see, I like Ron and I took the time to copy-paste this instead of asking you to scroll up. And I'm a lot of bad things but I am not lazy. I stick to my deadlines like Hermione. I start my homework in library class and continue it during phys ed the day its given. And I am not exaggerating. Bloody hell, I wish I was. I'm the ceo of deadlines, mate, don't tempt me! So you can see that Ron is much more than just a "nice bloke". And being a "nice bloke" isn't a bad thing either. He's all the things I said: intuitive, strategic, helpful, loyal and on top of that he's also a nice person. Yes, I do see a bit of myself in Ron. I do. I see the insecure side. I waste my time hating myself and criticizing myself and undermining myself, telling me I'm no good. But Ron overcomes that. He inspires me to appreciate myself. Is that a bad thing? Are you going to shame me for having a low self-esteem? Do you want to worsen my low self-esteem and make me feel more like shit?

Now the person who replied to your comment saying, "he isn't a nice bloke most of time.", he is. He is not being nice twice in a span of 7 years. How often do you act rudely or with jealousy? Wasn't Harry yelling at everyone in caps lock in OOTP. Now I don't condemn him for that because he's a fucking hormonal teenager like me and that would make me a hypocrite, but by your logic why don't you condemn him? Or why not condemn Hermione for saying "I only date good Quidditch players" and shoving canaries at Ron's face because someone else kissed him, while she kept using Krum and Cormac to make him jealous. She wasn't being a nice girl, then, was she? Now, once again, i don't dislike her or hold that against her because guess what, mate, I'm a hormonal teenage girl who gets jealous most of the time and would probably react in a similar fashion in the spur of the moment (Not defending her actions here, just putting myself in her shoes.) In short, Ron is a nice bloke MOST OF THE TIME.

It would be misogynistic to think that. The thing is, NO ONE DOES my dear friend! My dear daft friend. I have never heard anyone say that! why are you so hell-bent on portraying us as misogynists when no one ever says that? Stop assuming. Just stop. You are crossing a limit here, aren't you? Yes you are. You cannot say these sort of things. We never said that or believed that, no one ever said this to be a reason to ship Romione. God what is wrong with you? Literally, stop fucking ASSUMING god damn it! Do you want me to assume things about Harmione shippers? Do you want me to go there? Because I will go there! I will go there the moment you tell me to. Just challenge me.

Ron is not a perfect best boi , the reason why so many of us like him is that he's imperfect and tries to become better through the course of time. You are once again assuming and I am once again asking you to stop.

Ron might be an ordinary wizard. He might be poor, sure, but he's a pure-blood and won't face much if he chose not to fight. But he did. He fought. Now I identify with Ron's attitude a fair bit, but I am also likely to spend my day in a library without noticing. People aren't one dimensional. Stop trying to act like you're a psychologist, i know you're not. I don't even think Hermione's overbearing at all! You just insulted someone you're a big fan of. Jesus.

Both Hermione and Ron are strategic, jealous, passionate, feisty, argumentative, intellectual...

that's like 6 similarities. They aren't polar opposites in the slightest. Their differences are just: workaholic, not workaholic. Nerd, not a nerd. Like that's fucking it, man!

being relaxed doesn't make you less independent or driven. A relaxed and levelheaded Hermione will think through things, not be impulsive, not panic etc. She doesn't need Ron. I don't understand your obsession with acting like we ever insinuated that. Then she doesn't need Harry either lol. Stop shipping her with Harry, then or like shut the fuck up. Being a bit relaxed won't stop her or anyone from hitting great strides. Just don't get relaxed to the point you're lazy and casual about everything, that's it.

What do you mean? Ron is balanced. He does finish his work on time. And even if he does procrastinate, she could also help him not and be more driven. Of course, this is an open invitation for you to call me a sexist bitch because I said that she could help him and now you'll think her goal is to help him become better yada yada yada. Fuck off. Defeating the horcrux taught him enough. He respected her. He remembered about the elves when she didn't. He begged to be tortured instead of her. He wouldn't need it because school work and jobs are different and the same person might perceive those differently. Calmness and relaxation doesn't hinder your potential. Not caring and laziness does. You can't function if you work and are stressed 24/7 with zero breaks. Period.

10)

No i do not want (nor does anyone want) Hermione to become Ron. Being slightly calmer doesn't change up your personality. I'm sure many people dislike those sort of fanfics without a doubt. I hate OOC and I don't want Hermione to lose her intellect with Ron because that makes no sense. Ron himself is intellectual and loves arguing with her. They'd boost each other, more like it.

-------

okay thats it i am exhausted as fuck. thanks for reading, i appreciate it. notes and reblogs are appreciated, this takes work.

68 notes · View notes

trillian-anders · 4 years

Text

four christmases

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

warnings: slight violence, angst, fluff, smut && SPOILERS

word count: 16k

description: part 2 of 5. CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS, PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT WATCHED THE FILM. you’ve been working for the thrombeys for four years now,the last three years of your service being a glorified babysitter to the most annoying, self-absorbed, dickhead hugh ransom drysdale. These are the four christmases you’ve spent with the thrombey/drysdale clan during your times of service.

a/n: this story is brought to you by season 4 of schitt’s creek and maybe 12 cups of coffee. it felt like it took forever to write, but i’m happy to bring it to you. this is the follow up for my other ransom one-shot ‘the assistant’. i hope you guys like it!

2018

What a fucking asshole.

“You have to be there, it’s your job.” Ransom huffed indignantly. You rolled your eyes from the passenger seat of his beamer, tablet open in your lap as you scrolled through your sister’s amazon wishlist.

“I have a family too Ransom. I can’t just abandon my own family on Christmas just because you can’t get along with yours.” His knuckles turned white against the gear shift. Nothing else mattered, only him it seemed, and his whining Mommy complex.

“You were hired to assist me,” Ransom pulled into the drive of his house, tires crunching on the gavel, “So assist.” What a fucking tool. He quickly exited the car not looking behind him to see if you were following into the house, but leaving the front door wide open with the expectation that you were coming right behind.

You had just hopped onto this assistant gig a few months ago. There you were minding your own business as fall began, working for a temp agency, when Linda Drysdale rang you up and asked you to come work for the family again. You had recently been tutoring one of the youngest of the clan, Meg, with her English coursework for her last school year. The pay was good and you were kind of let down when they opted not to keep you on after summer concluded.

Babysitting Ransom paid well, better than it had been to help Meg out, but was it really worth the price? Ransom was a fucking child. You cooked his meals, washed his laundry, and were forced to tail him as he went about whatever business he deemed worthy of his days. Just until 9 pm, that’s all you had to do. Twelve hours a day, five days a week. Off Sundays and Mondays.

It felt like too much and not worth the paycheck. Even if the trust-fund asshole spent his days flirting around from one party to the next. More often than not he found himself a body to bring home leaving you to get an uber back to his place just so you could get your car to go home, or worse yet having you sit awkwardly in the backseat of the car as whoever was in the passenger seat desperately tried to give him road head.

He loved it. You know he did. Eyes flitting to yours in the rear-view mirror as a girl ten years younger than him fumbled with his belt. A fucking smirk on his face. You wanted to punch him, but your sister’s private school tuition held you back.

You followed him into the house, one you had just spent the entire morning cleaning as Ransom slept off his hangover. The prick had dropped his coat on the floor adjacent to the coat hook, shoes haphazardly kicked off beside it, glaring at him as you picked them up while he drank orange juice straight from the carton.

“I’ll pay you time and a half if you come.” He bartered.

“You don’t pay me anything,” You scoffed. “Your Mom pays me.”

“Exactly.” He tossed the carton back in the fridge, coming around the counter to get closer to you. He dropped his voice in what he probably thought was a seductive whisper. The fire it lit in your core would lead you to believe that it actually was a seductive whisper and you just fucking hated him. “I’ll make it worth your while.” He drug a finger down your cheek softly. It only caused you to roll your eyes, batting his finger away and stripping yourself of your coat you turned back to him,

“I want triple.”

Your sister was going to be pissed, but she’ll survive once she realizes you were able to get her a new laptop for school. A compromise.

She cried.

The Thrombey’s were probably the worst people you’ve ever met in your entire life. Harlan was prideful, pompous. He cared about his family, to an extent. He created them after all, his monsters.

Linda was okay, but she was a lot like her father. She felt as though she was better than everyone else simply because she ‘built herself from the ground up’ yeah, if the ground was a million dollars gifted from Daddy. Her husband, Richard, was a glorified sugar baby, you were sure at one point he was a real estate broker, but Linda had the business, he just rode on her coattails.

Walt was a whiny bastard. He was meek. He walked around with a cane and you weren’t sure he even needed it. It could totally be a ploy to try and gain more sympathy from his father. His wife was a drunk, you couldn’t remember her name, but it didn’t matter because she wouldn’t talk to you anyway. You can’t talk if you always have your mouth wrapped around the lip of a martini glass. Their son, Jacob, was a little alt-right shit. Every comment that came out of his mouth was a dig on some less privileged 99% and if you didn’t need this job you’d shove his head in the toilet yourself.

That leads you to Joni and Meg. Joni and Ransom had both been given an allowance every month. That’s the way they were mostly the same. How they differed was that Joni was at least attempting to have some sort of entrepreneur business where she gained some income, but not enough to live the lifestyle she was accustomed to. She had Meg in this expensive ass private school that cost more than your salary a month and Meg found this group of liberal women and now she was becoming the extreme opposite of Jacob. They often bumped heads, with Meg slowly giving in. She always gave in. This was her family and as much as she wanted to fight for the 99% she never actually wanted to be one.

But it was fine.

It didn’t really matter.

You just wanted to go home.

Ransom hasn’t had an empty hand all day thanks to you. “If I’m ever without a drink,” He said on the way over, “You’re walking home.” So this is where you’re standing, with Marta and Fran, you sipping on a weak mimosa that Marta had compromised on, waiting for the day to be over.

Ransom’s eyes met yours from across the room, hand raising his glass, the last little mouthful swishing against its side. You sighed and rolled your eyes, turning to grab the decanter behind you, walking over to fill his glass. “So I told him to shove it up his ass,” Linda was telling Harlan a story, “If you think for one moment I would give in to anything less than market price you’re out of your mind.” Please love me, she was saying, please see that I’m the best child you have. Harlan’s eyes were dazed, not looking at hers. Thinking. He was always thinking.

The only time Ransom didn’t need you was when he disappeared into his Grandfather’s office. Presents were handed out just before, new iphones, apple watches, macbooks, cartier bracelets, rolexes, a couple of little bonus checks to their allowances, the spirit of Christmas was definitely lost on this family.

It doesn’t matter.

You had just filled Ransom’s glass before he entered the study and you knew he wouldn’t need you until some kind of argument broke out with his Grandfather and you had to be ready to leave the house at a moment’s notice.

“How’s it goin’ kid?” Richard always kind of made you uncomfortable. He seemed normal, but you were uncomfortable in a ‘this is a rich older white man who liked to corner you alone’ kind of way. For the most part he’s been harmless.

One time, this was early on when you first started to tutor Meg, he found you in a similar way. Alone, in the kitchen. This was one of the first times he had met you and he was sure to let you know, “You’ve got a really pretty face, you know that?” Ew. Thanks? He had gotten close, too close. “How’d a pretty girl like you end up as a tutor?” That’s worse. And cheesy. This looked like one of those times, except he’d been drinking since 8 am.

“I’m fine thanks.” You had been trying to find a minute of peace. There was always someone talking in this house, during ‘debates’ there were usually three or four. This was supposed to be a break. Ransom having been passed off to another wet nurse he could suck off of while you got some rest, and maybe sneak a couple of those expensive chocolate artisanal cookies for good measure. Richard grinned at you, not in the way Ransom would when he was fucking with you, but something more predatory. He was feeling ambitious.

“I just wanted to give you this,” He slipped an envelope across the counter to you, hand resting on it, waiting for you to take it. As your hand met the envelope, he did the fucking worst thing he could possibly do in this moment, and took your hand. Your heart was racing and you felt wildly uncomfortable. He held your hand, taking a step into your space, body crowding yours against the counter. You stared him down, please just let me go. Please just fucking let me go. “How’s my son treating you?” He asked. What exactly did he think you were doing for his son?

“Fine.” You swallowed harshly. Please just let me go. You could smell the whiskey on his breath, face coming closer to yours.

“If you ever need anything…” Closer and closer. You wished you could pull back completely, get out of this situation, but the vice grip he currently had on your hand was making it difficult.

“Y/N.” Your eyes snapped over to the doorway, Ransom. His jaw was clenched, face flushed from what you were sure was an argument with Harlan. “We’re leaving.” Richard turned and smiled at his son, releasing your hand. You quietly slipped the envelope into your jeans pocket, backing yourself away from him, and joining Ransom across the room where his eyes hadn’t yet left his father. It wasn’t until you made it to the front door, grabbing your coat from the coat rack did he stomp his way out of the house, digging his car keys from his pockets.

“Ransom I don’t think you should be driving-” You started, but he turned to you, eyes wild. This scared you.

“Get in the car.” He demanded. Fuck, he’s drunk.

“Ransom you’re drunk, you can’t drive right now.” His eyes looked behind you and you turned to look at his family, peeking out through the curtains to watch the show. He quickly grabbed your arm, tugging you to the passenger seat, wrenching the door open and shoving you in, slamming the door behind you to circle around to the drivers side. “Just let me drive.” You pleaded. He slammed his own car door, revving the engine and quickly whipping the car out of the driveway.

He wasn’t saying anything and Ransom always had something to say.

“Ransom-”

“Shut the fuck up.” His knuckles were white against the wheel, eyes staring straight ahead as he began gaining speed.

60 mph,

65 mph,

70…

“Slow down!” He was scaring you, these roads were winding and dark, his high beams only did so much and you weren’t sure how many deer you’d be seeing tonight. His foot was heavy on the accelerator.

“Ransom please!” You cried. His breathing was heavy. His eyes were moving wildly left to right as he moved the wheel to turn.

100

You were going to die. This was it, this was the end. The car hit the open road, the interstate, and to the left of the on ramp you had just flew through was a cop. Their lights started flashing, red and blue filling the car as Ransom kept accelerating. It wasn’t late at night, probably around nine or so. There were other cars here as Ransom kept gaining speed, swerving in and out of traffic. “You’ve got to pull over!” You yelled at him.

105

110

115

“Ransom for the love of god, fucking stop!” His eyes looked in the rearview, two cops now. It was then he began to slow down, moving over to the side of the road, your heart still racing in your chest. You relax your fingers which you didn’t even realize was gripping Ransom’s bicep in a steel grip. Both of you breathing heavily inside the car. It wasn’t until the cop heavily banged on the window that either of you even moved.

“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to step out of the vehicle.” A bright flashlight in your face as you dug around for his registration and insurance in the glove box. Exiting the car and circling to the trunk as Ransom was handing the four cops bills from his money clip. Why the fuck did Ransom have a money clip full of hundreds? Ransom’s eyes met yours as he stuffed his money clip back in his coat pocket before tossing you the keys which you caught awkwardly.

“Take me home.”

You looked over at the cops who were getting back in their squad cars before quietly getting in the driver's seat and shutting the door. Your heart was still pounding and as the adrenaline began wearing off you suddenly grew very tired.

“Drive.” You didn’t want to hear his voice. You never wanted to see his face again. You never even wanted to hear his name again.

“You’re the fucking worst.” You could feel yourself crying. That was the most terrifying experience you’ve ever had in your life.

“Well you’re fucking my father so,” He sunk down in his seat. “I think I have some competition.”

“I’m not fucking your father!” You exclaimed, hand hitting the steering wheel. You hear him scoff from the passenger seat.

“Not today since I walked in on you. Which is funny, you put on this whole show about not wanting to be around my family and what was it all for? A fucking ploy so I didn’t know.” Ransom didn’t fucking know how much of a goddamn idiot he was being right now.

As the gravel crunched beneath the tires of the beamer, your argument continued. “I’m not fucking your father, I’ve never fucked your father, and I never will fuck your father.” He wasn’t hearing you.

“Is this why Linda pays you so much?” He scoffed, exiting the car. He looked at you from over the roof and continued, “So you keep Richard out of her bed?” You hadn’t stopped crying. Still half going from fear and the other half from frustration. It was so goddamn cold out that the tears were freezing against your cheeks.

“Ransom, I am not fucking your father!” You yelled, “The reason she pays me what she does is because the exact fucking thing you’re doing right now.” He rolled his eyes, walking up to the front door of his house,

“Give me my keys.”

“No.” You were still standing by the car, keys fisted in your hand. “You’re being a fucking asshole right now.”

He clenched his fist, slamming it into the front door before turning back to you and yelling, “Give me my fucking keys Y/N.” You both looked at one another for a moment.

You took a deep breath. “I have nothing to do with your father Ransom. My only job is to wait on you like a fucking servant and that is what I get paid to do. Not be your fucking punching bag when your family turns out to be a bunch of dicks-”

“Give me-”

“I’m not finished!” You screamed. Tears were still streaming heavily down your face and Ransom stood five feet away from you awkwardly letting you continue. “I don’t deserve this Ransom. I really fucking don’t. You literally almost just fucking killed me. So you’re going to say you’re sorry, you’re going to go into your fucking house, you’re going to give me what you promised me for even having to deal with this shit tonight, and you’re going to give me the rest of the week off.”

It was silent for a moment. The two of you standing in the cold Massachusetts air in silence. Your face was starting to burn and as the silence stretched on you began to doubt everything you just said. Fuck this could cost you the job. The envelope Richard had handed you weighed heavily in your pocket. Hopefully it would be enough to hold you over until you could get back to the temp agency.

Ransom let out a breath he had been holding, turning fully to you, and walking down the two steps of his porch. You flinched back away from him, looking at his knuckles that were split and bleeding from punching the door. His eyes met yours and he looked like he was debating something.

“I’m sorry.” His words were soft and whispered, hand coming forward with an open palm, waiting for his keys. You gently gave them back to him. That soft, whispered, ‘I’m sorry’ stunned you. You didn’t expect your yelling to actually work. You expected to be fired. His keys jingled as he reached in his pocket and brought that money clip back out, extracting a bundle of hundreds and holding them out to you between two fingers. “Go home.”

That was never spoken of again. The thing with Richard in the kitchen, being pulled over on 95, the screaming match that ensued, and nothing was ever said about the solid gold, $6,500 cartier bracelet that was by no doubt wrapped at the store that was waiting for you when you arrived back at work five days later.

2019

“What did he do?” You were sweating. It was so fucking hot in here, but you were afraid to take off your coat. The fanfare in which the detectives had pulled up to your apartment complex was embarrassing, quickly bringing you down to the police station and shoving you in an interrogation room.

“What did who do?” The man who had introduced himself as Lieutenant Elliot asked you. Shit. What the fuck did Ransom do? The death of Harlan Thrombey was sudden, right after his birthday just two weeks ago. It was unsettling, the suicide. The funeral was uncomfortable to say the least. Ransom told you to go and then didn’t go himself so you stood there like some weird interloper on the tails of everyone’s grief.

You were going to throw up, you’ve never so much as gotten a speeding ticket but suddenly you had a kilo of coke on you and an unlicensed gun. “Where were you the night Harlan Thrombey committed suicide?” You picked at your fingernails.

“I was at the party,” Your throat was so dry, you were afraid to touch the glass of water they had set before you, “I always feel strange around the family so unless Ransom needs me I try to hide out in the kitchen.”

“You’re his assistant?” Elliot asked, “He doesn’t have a job, so what exactly do you assist with?”

“I’m pretty much his babysitter.” You explained, “I make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble…” It’s ironic right? You bit your bottom lip. “Why am I here exactly?” The other man in the room, Wagner, spoke up,

“Hugh Drysdale has been arrested in the murder of Harlan Thrombey’s housekeeper.” Elliot gave him a dirty look.

“Fran’s dead?” The shock was evident on your face. You leaned back in the uncomfortable metal chair, discarding your coat and scarf and taking a large mouthful of water.

“You seemed surprisingly absent from Hugh’s side throughout the aftermath of Harlan’s suicide, why is that?” The third man spoke up from his spot sitting in the corner of the room, the thick southern accent was almost comical.

“Ransom gave me time off,” You recalled, voice trailing off as you finish your sentence, “He said I could go to my sister’s cello recital…” Did he really kill her? “Why would he kill Fran?” It made no sense. “I mean, he’s an asshole, but murder?”

They played a recording. Ransom in his own, self-righteous, pompous voice. Fuck me. What a fucking idiot. “So tell us where you were on the dates in question, spare no details.”

You had thought it strange, Ransom had left you stranded at the Thrombey house and you were forced to find your own way back to his house to get your car. It wasn’t at all strange that when you got to his house his car wasn’t there. You’d just assumed he’d gone out. It wasn’t uncommon for him to go out after finding arguments with his family. But the next day when he suggested that you take the week off, spend time with your sister, go to that recital you didn’t know he knew about, you checked his forehead with your wrist.

“Are you sick?” You had asked. He gently pushed your wrist off of his forehead, giving you a terse look.

“Harlan committed suicide last night, the funeral is tomorrow, but after that you should take some time. I need some time.” Your heart broke a bit. Yeah Ransom and Harlan butt heads all the time, but they were practically the same person so it made sense to you that they would fight. Both prideful assholes.

“I’m so sorry Ransom.” Should you hug him? You didn’t know. You two didn’t have any physical contact really. You’d never seen him hug anyone. So no, no hugs. “Is there anything I can do for you?” You opted to just gently lay your hand on his wrist. His eyes met yours for a moment, silence.

“Just come to the funeral.” With that he stood up and walked away.

That’s why it was so off-putting when the bastard didn’t even show up to the funeral and as you stood there with his sobbing family you figured next time you saw him you were going to spit in his coffee.

“I haven’t seen him since the day before the funeral.” You admitted to the officers. “He asked me to go, and didn’t even show up.”

“If we have any other questions we’ll let you know.” And you were released from questioning, but you had so many questions yourself. Arson? Fran? He attempted to murder Marta. Was this worth it? The fucking asshole never had to work for anything in his life, and even now as you stood in the courtroom waiting to see what bail would be set as so you could relay to Linda, you wanted to smack his pretty little face for being such a fucking idiot.

A bailiff read out the case number and in walked Ransom. You’d never seen him in any outfit that cost less than your rent and here the bastard was, walking in with a black and white striped jumpsuit, the county jail logo stamped in red on the back. You were the only person that showed up for him. Linda was half waiting for you to text her a dollar amount so she could pay his bail, the other half of her was debating on whether to leave him there or not. At least, that’s what she told you anyway.

You could only imagine what you looked like to him. Your eyes were puffy and red from just crying in the parking lot for an hour in between getting questioned and coming to his hearing. Before that the detectives had taken you practically from your bed. But you were here, in yoga pants and a sweatshirt, coat pulled over the ratty thing, and snow boots on your feet. It started snowing this morning.

His eyes caught yours as soon as he entered, but he quickly looked away. It was like a goddamn movie, his wrists cuffed to his waist, a chain leading down to the cuffs around his ankles.

Ransom Drysdale murdered someone.

A chill went down your spine, “Bail set at a million dollars.” And a gavel. Cameras clicking behind you. Thirty minutes later you were waiting for his release. You handed a dry cleaning bag with clothes to the officer at the front desk.

Ransom Drysdale murdered someone.

It wasn’t long before the secure, thick, metal door behind the metal detectors opened and Ransom was walking through it back to you. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, quickly circling to the desk to get his phone, wallet, and keys back. The garment bag was shoved back in your hands containing the clothes he was wearing when he was arrested, and then he was out the doors of the county jail, speed walking to your car. His was taken in as evidence.

You used your key fob to unlock the car, Ransom wordlessly climbing in the passenger seat and slamming the door behind him as you settled in the driver’s. This was uncomfortable. You drove in silence for a minute, awkwardly leaning over to turn on the radio. The song only played for a second before Ransom leaned over, smacking the button to turn it off again.

“Just say it.” He spat out at you. Your hands gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“Say what, Ransom?” You were scared of him now and he could tell. He breathed harshly through his nose. You could feel his eyes on you.

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I did it? Why I did it? Yell at me for being a fucking idiot?” He threw his hands up in frustration. There was a beat of silence more, “Say something.”

“I don’t know what to say!” You really didn’t. What do you even say? You’ve been cursing him for a while. In your head. Cursing him since you left the interrogation earlier. You didn’t know what any of this meant for your job, if you’ll be able to keep your sister in school, if you’ll be able to even afford the apartment you two live in right now. And all because Ransom wasn’t getting anymore fucking money from his Grandfather the fucking prick.

“Anything. Fucking say…” He leaned over in his seat, growing close to you. “Are you scared of me?” He smirked. Not in his, I’m playing with you and getting my way, smirk. And not in his, I’m making you weirdly uncomfortable and it really gets me off, smirk. But some sick sinister type of smirk that made your stomach roll.

“You fucking murdered someone Ransom.” You said between clenched teeth. He studied you for a minute before settling back in his seat. Silence took over until you made it to the front door of his house. Lawyers should be coming by in about an hour to start working on his case, his parents should be here soon as well seeing as they were backing all of this.

“You think I would hurt you?” Ransom asked as he stripped himself of his coat, purposefully letting it fall to the floor just so you’d have to pick it up. You left it there. He turned to look at you, still in the doorway of his house. “I killed Fran because I had to.” He spat. “It was for the bigger fucking picture. You want to be paid don’t you? You like having money right?”

“Your Mom pays me Ransom.” You stated calmly. His voice was escalating in volume as he continued.

“So fucking what? Who bought you that fucking coat, huh?” He was talking about the expensive wool coat you are currently wearing. He bought it for you after seeing that your old bubble coat had stuffing pouring out of the right pocket. You didn’t ask for it. “Who pays for your fucking phone, huh?” You had a month-by-month plan before. Ransom gifted you and your sister iphones sometime in the spring, saying that he needed to be able to reach you without having every call get dropped due to bad reception. Your sister’s was just because they were buy-one-get-one, or so he said. You didn’t ask for it. “And that fucking bracelet on your wrist too? Is my Mom buying you jewelry? Or just me and my fucking Dad?” He was still under the impression that something had gone on between you and his father apparently.

“That’s it! I’m done.” You yelled back at him. “I fucking quit.” You stripped the coat off your shoulders and tossed it on the floor beside his watching his mouth snap shut. You wiggled the bracelet off your wrist and threw that down on top of it before slipping your phone out of the side pocket of your yoga pants and throwing that on the pile. “I’ll mail Julia’s phone back to you.” You still hadn’t stepped foot inside the house, turning to walk back to your car when Ransom’s thundering footsteps could be heard behind you.

Fuck he was going to kill you.

It had continued to snow throughout the morning, the soft white stuff still falling heavily from the sky as you rushed to your car, you had to get away. You didn’t make it far before Ransom’s arms wrapped around your body from behind, tugging you tightly to his chest. You let out a loud scream before he covered your mouth with his hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He whispered quickly into your ear. “Please stop, I’m sorry.” His large body was bent over your back as you were crouched over trying to get him to release you, both of you breathing heavily as you settled against him. “Y/N I’m sorry.” He slowly started walking the two of you back toward the house, “I’m not gonna hurt you!” He shouted as you tried to bite his hand. He uncovered your mouth, arms loosening. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” He repeated a little more calmly.

He brought you back into the house, shutting the door softly behind him. You wanted to leave, eyes tearing up. What the fuck were you supposed to do now? Ransom stood for a moment with his back against the door before peeling the wet socks off of his feet. You hadn’t realized that he took his shoes off when he originally came in. His feet were bright red from the cold. You glanced to your left at the knife block there, slowly backing away.

“No, no, no, I’m not going to hurt you.” He sunk down to his knees. He looked like a fucking idiot, face flushed from the cold, kneeling in front of the door. He slowly made his way over to you, not rising from his knees, shuffling forward with his hands open and facing you. Your heart was racing as he stopped at your feet, slowly moving his arms to wrap around your waist, burying his face in your ratty old college sweatshirt.

He was hugging you. Actually hugging you, on his knees, face turned into your belly. You could have sworn he whispered, “Please don’t go.” But you couldn’t be sure.

A pot of coffee was made, coats picked up, and floor mopped before the lawyers and his parents arrived. The only evidence of your earlier fight was the absence of the cartier bracelet you refused to put back on. It sat heavily in Ransom’s pants pocket. Their discussion was loud in the living room and no one looked up as you lay the coffee and finger foods on the coffee table, Ransom’s cup unmade for him out of spite. As you turned to make your way back to the kitchen, Richard’s hand shot out to grab you harm, halting your movements,

“Grab me some Macallan for me, would you sweetheart?” Your eyes flit over to Ransom, who’s jaw twitched, sharing a look with you before looking back to his lawyers and mother.

This was none of your business, but you needed to know what your future was going to look like. Were you out of a job? If Ransom went to prison there would be no one to babysit. So yeah, you would be. He admitted on tape to arson and murder. Pre-meditated arson was minimum of 10 years, Murder was 30 years. He’s looking at at least 40 years in prison. He would be an old man before he was even allowed parole.

The group grew silent, or you couldn’t hear them as you started dinner for that evening. You were sure the four of them would be staying. “Y’N, would you come here please?” That was Linda.

You made your way over to the group, shuffling nervously in your wool socks. “Yes Mrs. Drysdale?” Linda smiled,

“It’s back to Thrombey now, but that’s another issue.” Hmmm. “If I was willing to pay you…. Say four times what you’re making now, would you take Ransom’s house arrest? That is, if we are able to work the judge down to that.”

“House arrest?” You looked to Ransom confused, he wasn’t meeting your eyes. “Murder and Arson-”

“The only proof they have is the recording, the only thing they’re going to be able to pin on Mr. Drysdale here would be the attempted murder of the nurse.” A chill went down your spine,

“You tried to kill Marta too?” You asked Ransom, incredulously. He didn’t respond, popping a cube of cheese into his mouth. His lawyers made you uncomfortable, they were definitely sleazy and you knew money could get you far in the justice system. If that recording was 75% of the evidence against Ransom and it was suddenly and accidentally destroyed, they would only have what was actually witnessed.

“Well, would you?” Linda asked again.

“I uhm… I have a sister who lives with me, I can’t just-”

“I’m sure there’s someone else who can take care of her. How long would it be for?” She looked to the lawyers, “Two or three years?” This was impossible. You couldn’t. Linda looked back at you. “How about this…” She leaned over and clasped your hands softly. “We will pay for your sister’s school, her housing, everything she needs while you’re doing this for us, and you’ll still get paid what I originally offered.”

“If Ransom gets house arrest?” You asked.

“Yes ‘if’.” She was selling it hard. Julia could stay with your aunt. She didn’t live far from where the two of you currently reside. The majority of your income went to her school, books, clothes, rent, and groceries. Having all of that taken care of would mean you’d be getting four times your current salary and not having to spend any of it. Just for a couple years.

“If Ransom gets house arrest,” you looked over at him, his eyes briefly meeting yours, studying you it felt like, “If he does, I will do what you need me to do. But I don’t even know how-” Linda’s hands quickly released yours.

“We will figure that out when the time comes,” Linda has a shit eating grin on her face, “Write up a contract.” Directed at the lawyers, “Now, how are we going to get our hands on that recording?” That’s it. You were dismissed until they needed you again.

“Why would you do that?” Ransom asked you. Everyone had left a little bit ago, you were busy washing the dishes, knowing as soon as this task was finished you’d be able to go home and this day from hell would be over.

“Do what?” There was a piece of cheese melted on the side of the casserole dish that wouldn’t fucking come off.

“Agree to take my punishment?” You paused in your scrubbing,

“That’s if they actually settle on house arrest.” You finally unwedged the cheese, rinsing off the casserole dish and placing it in the dishwasher.

“Hmpf.” Ransom had been cold and distant since he burrowed his head into your belly. Has to make up for his extreme weakness then. “But why?” He asked again.

You turned to him, eyes staring directly into his. You watched him fiddling with the gold bracelet you had taken off earlier, it was in his hand down by his side. “It’s what you said earlier right?” You scoffed, removing the rubber gloves from your hands and throwing them in the sink. You walked closer to him, not breaking eye contact. “Because I need the fucking money.”

The two of you didn’t talk for the rest of the weekend. Usually there was texting here and there, ‘Where are my grey socks, the ones I usually wear with the navy Ralph Lauren slacks?’ or ‘Next week when you meal prep for my weekend can you make me this?’ with a link to a recipe. ‘Pick me up a pack of magnums on your way in.’ Fuck you.

You got him regular Trojans.

Monday was Christmas luckily enough, and you knew you weren’t going in. Ransom didn’t even text you to see where you were. His account was rapidly depleting funds, you checked every once in a while.

234.72 ETRN-STD

523.50 DRNK

435.62 HAWTHNE

The list went on. Multiple spots a day over the weekend. That’s who he was going to be now, the old fucking white dude who sits at a bar all day hitting on girls uncomfortably too young. How many giggling 18 year olds would you kick out crying and screaming the next day? Disgusting.

“Do you have them?” Them meaning the cookies that were currently at the bottom of your reusable Aldi bag. Your sister, Julia, was off to your right, setting a pot with water on the stove to boil. It was Christmas, just the two of you, and with the aftermath of everything that was going on with the Thrombey/Drysdale clan, you were happy to get some time off to relax. You might even push it so that you wouldn’t have to work tomorrow. We’ll see if Ransom texts you.

“Of course I do.” This bag has been in your closet all weekend. There’s a bakery near your apartment that your Mom would take you to all the time, every time you got an A, won a game, gotten an award. Everything they made reminded you of her, and it was something you craved more than anything. Every Christmas they would make these fresh baked cookie packs with all kinds, chocolate chip, double chocolate chunk, snicker doodle, gingerbread, white chocolate macadamia, chocolate and peanut butter.

Every Christmas, after dinner, you and your sister would slouch in front of the TV with scalding hot cups of hot chocolate and devour almost the whole box. Every year except last year when at the time your sister was home alone watching The Grinch you were in a car with Ransom going over a hundred miles an hour and scared for your life. This Christmas, Ransom would not be getting between the two of you, food was cooking, lights in the living room were dimmed. The tree was all lit up and the presents you had exchanged earlier that morning sat unwrapped beneath it.

Christmas music was playing softly on the tv as you heard someone knock on your front door.

“Coming!” You yelled. It wasn’t uncommon for a neighbor to have forgotten something, sugar, butter, milk, that they needed for dinner. It wasn’t uncommon for you to answer your door without looking through the peephole. What was uncommon was Ransom Drysdale standing sheepishly on the other side. His cheeks, nose, and eyes were red. The cheeks and nose from the cold, the eyes probably from the alcohol you could smell on him. You sighed heavily, feeling a headache coming on, “What are you doing here?”

“Bar called me an uber and I didn’t want to go home.” He explained quickly, words slurring slightly.

“Your parents-”

“Fuck my parents!” He yelled, you quickly shushed him, looking down the halls to see if anyone was peeking out into the hallway. “Fuck my parents.” He said quietly.

“Ransom…” You sighed, stepping out into the hall, closing the door softly behind you. “What do you want?” His eyes were glazed, he shrugged dumbly, swaying forward. “Okay big guy,” I guess this is happening, “Come on.” You quietly ushered him inside, shutting the door softly behind you.

“Who is it? Oh, woah.” Julia’s eyes bugged out of her head, shifting over to you. ‘Murderer’ she mouthed.

“Go set the table.” You ushered Ransom over to the small table that could barely seat the two of you let alone a third, quickly brewing a pot of coffee and keeping an eye on your sister who was scared to get to close to him. “He’s harmless Julia.” You reassured her, or were you reassuring yourself so that you didn’t feel like such a bad guardian, letting a murderer into your home. He was past angry drunk Ransom, which is probably why the bar kicked him out, he was sad Ransom right now. You’d never seen him cry but this was probably the closest you were going to get to it. He was quiet, sat in the chair just staring as you and your sister finished dinner.

You poured him a cup of coffee and a glass of water, hoping to sober him up enough that you could safely send him home later on. The three of you sat down to eat. Ransom staring listlessly out the window. You made him a plate and told him to eat. And he did. You told him to finish his water. And he did. You told him to finish his coffee. And he did. This was almost terrifying. He hadn’t said anything since ‘fuck my parents’, and he looked dead on his feet.

“Send him home,” Your sister pleaded. The man hadn’t moved. Cleanup had already started and finished, he was still nursing the third glass of water you’d given him. Cookies were warming in the oven. His eyes were less glassy now. He was slowly sobering up. The large helping of mashed potatoes and three bread rolls he ate didn’t hurt either.

“He’s my boss, I can’t really kick him out.” You explained, “Let me get him sober enough that I know he’s okay and then he’ll go home.” She rolled her eyes at you, stirring the pot of hot chocolate on the stove, adding more chunks of chocolate to melt. Ransom, still unspeaking, didn’t protest when you moved him into the living room, setting him up in the recliner with his own cup of hot chocolate and three cookies, before snuggling down with your sister and watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas. You moved only once when he tapped the mug against your arm.

More.

“I’ve never done anything.” He said. “Never went to college, barely graduated high school.” He was rambling to himself, maybe to you? “I’ve spent the entirety of my adult years inside someone’s cunt.”

“Alright, Julia. Time for bed.” You ignored her whining protests. The movie wasn’t over yet. “Please?” You begged her. She hated Ransom. You knew this. She knows you know this. ‘All he does is take you from me.’ is what she once said to you. Just to treat you like shit.

“I have no money.” Ransom’s eyes met yours. “None.”

“I know Ransom.” He scoffed.

“I’m no better off than you now.”

“You still have your house. I’d say you are still better off.” You started cleaning up around him, letting the asshole sit in his self-pity.

“C’mere.” It was a quiet request. The Grinch was packing up his sleigh in the background. You dropped the two mugs you were holding onto the counter, circling back to the recliner. Ransom’s hand came out soft, wrapping around your forearm and gently guiding you to sit in his lap.

“Ransom, I don’t think this is appropriate.” You tried to pull away, heartbeat beginning to pick up. His still bloodshot eyes raised to meet yours.

“Please hold me.” Fuck. What were you supposed to do with that? Heart melting you sunk into his lap, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in tight. It was quiet for a while. Sitting with the credits rolling, Ransom’s arms wrapped around your waist while yours were wrapped around his shoulders. Comforting him from whatever crisis he was currently going through.

“Marta ruined everything” He whispered into your neck.

“No Ransom, you did.”

2020

The trial, fuck me, the trial. The whole fucking family showed to watch Ransom crash and burn and get exactly what he deserved. Well that and to stare down Marta Cabrera who sat with the prosecution in some shiny new digs, a stunning gold cartier bracelet on her wrist. That was familiar. Ransom’s cheap bought apology. There was a tension there, you knew. He always had a thing for ‘the help’. You wondered if that’s where he had been this past week. But it’s strange isn’t it? This whole situation. It was unsettling and for some reason you felt irreversibly used.

“I knew the knife was a prop.” And that was that. Audio recording gone, attempted murder charge whittled down to aggravated assault. A slap on the wrist. Two years of house arrest. And here you were, in Ransom’s home with a fucking house arrest bracelet making your ankle itch. Unfucking believable. Ransom had sat in the courtroom, head raised, armani suit, legs crossed and body relaxed. He knew he was getting out of this from the minute he walked in.

The Thrombey trial that was supposedly going to last three months only lasted a week. You still had a job, and in a remarkable turn of events Linda Drysdale and their legal team got exactly what they predicted.

“I’m going out.” Was the first thing Ransom told you as you unpacked your clothes. He had half thought to buy you a bed and a small dresser that he haphazardly got someone to shove between his Pam Anderson Baywatch poster and the unplugged Space Invaders original arcade console. This was a 90s teenage boy’s dream bedroom. And now it was yours. He didn’t give you much time to respond and he was gone.

They say that you never really know someone until you live with them. And you’ve never felt that saying more true. Ransom was a fucking asshole.

During your previous employment schedule you would come in at 9 am with breakfast and let him know of anything he needed to do that day, if his Mom needed him for whatever reason, events his was scheduled to go to, dates he promised he’d keep. He’d let you know what to cancel and what he would get ready for, and then you were off. Cleaning and maintaining the home to the best of your ability, binge watching tv shows, trying new recipes from pinterest.

Ransom was disgusting.

Clothes discarded all over his floor, bedroom, living room, hallways. Beard trimmings all over the sink and what you would hopefully assume were more beard trimmings lining the bottom of his shower. You really didn’t want to think about Ransom’s pubic hair situation. He would do things like take his coffee mugs into his room or into the study and leave like a sip left in each one, letting it sit there until the milk began to curdle. Wet towels shoved into corners and every morning when you went in to make his bed it was like he was running in his sleep, loose and fitted scrunched in the corner of the foot board, duvet thrown off and pillows with half off shams.

He was doing this shit on purpose.

And you hated him for it.

It wasn’t long after the trial that he began a steady routine. Gym, breakfast, some puttering around the house, making plans and then he would go out. And that’s when we come to this,

“He said he would be back and we would have breakfast together.” The girl was pretty, but her voice was annoying.

“I’m one hundred percent sure he did not say that.” You stood with arms crossed in the doorway, watching her fix her face in the mirror propped against his bedroom wall. An old antique thing that didn’t match with the decor of the house at all.

“Hmpf.” She glared at you, “Fine, when he gets back, we’ll see who is right.” This was before you became practiced at this kind of thing.

You felt your phone buzz in the pocket of your jeans,

Is she gone yet?

Fucking prick.

“I’ll have him call you when he gets in,” You explained, “He has a lot to do today, I’m sure if he said you’ll go out for breakfast it’ll probably be another day.”

“I said.” She stepped up to you, “I’m staying.” Fuck. You rolled your eyes and walked past her into the room,

Not leaving, come deal with her yourself

He had been waiting down the street like a psycho, waiting to see her leave so he can come back home, but it’s not really working out in his favor. You could feel her eyes on you as you made the bed and picked his laundry up from the floor, tossing them two feet away into the laundry basket you left in his bathroom in hopes he would actually use it. The socks left discarded beside it was a clear message of disregard, a ‘fuck you’ from a petulant child.

You could hear the door slam downstairs. Great, you looked at the girl who was scrolling through her phone curled up in the reading chair in the corner of his room, he’s pissed. You could hear his stomping feet climb the stairs and the girl looked up from her phone hopeful towards the door.

“Alright, time to go.” He huffed, coming into view. The girl stood from the chair, shifting over towards him and trying to wrap her arms around his neck. “Nope. Let’s go, your uber is here.”

“But, I-” She began, you could see tears welling up in her eyes and you began to feel bad for her.

You were never one to have one night stands. You had one serious boyfriend when you were in college, but when your Mom got sick you had ended it and moved back home. You hadn’t dated or been with anyone else since. You just didn’t have the time. That being said, this girl honestly thought Ransom had a heart. She was naive and young, younger than you. Your heart hurt for her, but honestly, no one should be with Ransom anyway.

His birthday dinner had soon come and gone. Linda and Richard sat around the dinner table eating Ransom’s favorite foods you’d spent the day cooking for him. Drinking whiskey and wine, Ransom’s glass never empty. You’d had a few glasses yourself with the tapas style dinner you’d put together. A beautifully iced spice cake sitting on the counter with unlit candles for dessert.

This was the night that Ransom blew up on you for the last time. The night he cried into your neck, drunk and unstable. Clutching desperately at your body for comfort, burying himself against you all touch starved and needy. This was more intense than last Christmas where his dry eyed stare begged you to hold him in an uncommon moment of weakness.

He was so hard to read sometimes and you were never quite sure where you stood. You knew you really hated him sometimes, other times… not so much. The more you knew his parents, the more you understood why Ransom was an ungrateful shit to begin with. You almost couldn’t blame him for how he turned out.

Almost.

“Help me with this.” He stood in the doorway to the small office he never used. It was pretty much just for show. A large wooden ornate desk, his macbook, and a bookshelf full of books you know he probably never read. Including the ones penned by his own Grandfather.

There were beginnings here. Multi-colored post its lined the desk, laptop left on the seat of one of the chairs in the room.

“What is this?” You asked him, fingers plucking a post-it from the desk,

Crime of Passion?

He had been watching a lot of true crime documentaries lately. It didn’t help but creep you out. This man, a murderer, suddenly extremely into serial killers and murder itself.

“I’m going to write a book.” He explained. His face was in a grin, almost giddy.

“A book.” You looked at him incredulously. Your eyes drifted over to Harlan’s novels sitting stacked on another chair, spines finally cracked and pages thumbed through, sticky tabs stuck throughout the pages. You pointed to them, “A book?”

“Yeah,” He gestured around to the post-its, “What do you think?” It’ll keep him busy that’s for sure. You sighed, sticking the post-it back on the desk and looked at him. He was waiting, expectantly, why did he care what you thought about this?

“Is it gonna be about Fran?” You asked awkwardly, he scoffed,

“No, I’m gonna write books like my Grandfather wrote,” He plucked a post-it from the desk, showing you,

Wife murders husband?

“I’m gonna write a mystery novel.”

He was good. You couldn’t lie about that. And you wouldn’t. This was a strange thing. The routine changed. Gym, breakfast, writing, lunch, writing, dinner, and then he would go out. His mind was moving faster than his fingers could and you were left reading a new chapter or two every night. You’d once loved Harlan’s novels. Your Mother was obsessed with them. It was partially why you had even taken the job tutoring Meg in the first place, but you know what they say. Never meet your heroes.

Harlan was kind in some ways, funny, but proud. His pride is what eventually killed him you’ve found out. The medicine Ransom had switched wasn’t his cause of death, his refusal for help was.

Ransom was as good as he was, better even.

“He’s got a lot of me in him,” Harlan said to you once, “He could have everything I’ve ever had if he would pull his head out of his ass.”

This was promising.

You were honestly afraid when Ransom first said he would be writing a novel. What if he wasn’t a good writer? Could you really lie and try to support him even though it was absolute garbage? You supposed you would have to. You were relieved to find out that it was unnecessary.

He slipped a red pen into your hand when handing you this last chapter, the book almost finished. “I want to see how you react to everything,” He explained, the book was coming to the climax, you were a chapter away from the big reveal and the aftermath, his hands gently massaged your shoulders before he bent at the waist, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you sat on the sofa. “Do you like it?” His hot breath brushed against your ear, a tingle went down your spine.

“Ransom,” Your hand came up to lay over his forearm, brushing the skin with your thumb, “It’s amazing.” You could almost feel the grin that stretched across his face, he turned, pressing his face into your hair where you could swear he laid a soft kiss before releasing you.

“Of course it is,” Here we go, “I’m a fucking Thrombey.” His fucking smirk. That's what he left you with, returning to his office to pound out the last two chapters.

It was a process. The editing, printing, shipping off to multiple publishers. He got replies after a month.

Eager replies.

Whatever Ransom wanted, Ransom got. The lucky bastard stayed lucky.

“Look Babe.” Ransom dropped a heavy box on the table in front of you, “Look at this shit.” He grabs a knife from the block on the counter, slipping it under the packing tape to open the box revealing glossy black covers. He first fucking novel. There. Printed. A picture of a fireplace, chair facing it, empty. A blood soaked carpet. He picked one from the box, opening it. And there in the forward, the dedication, Harlan’s name…

...and yours.

“Don’t get all big headed about it kid.” He smirked. Your heart was racing in your chest.

“Why would you…” Your fingers gently traced the letters of your name, there in print, as it would be on every copy sold.

“Wouldn’t have been able to write it without you being chained to my house, only seems fair.” He shrugged. “We can call it even.” You scoffed,

“Dedicating your book to me hardly makes my doing your house arrest for you even Ransom.” He smirked again, flipping through the pages, seeing his words in bold print.

“I think it’s plenty fair,” Okay, now you wanted to smack him, “You live here for free, you eat here for free, and you get paid pretty well to do so.” His devilish eyes met yours over the top of the book he was still thumbing through. “If anything you’re still ahead because you’re the kept woman of a bestselling author.”

“A kept woman?” You dropped the book onto the table. “I’m not your fucking whore Ransom.”

“Not yet.” Audibly you made noise of protest, internally your core thrummed with heat.

“Never.” You packed up your tablet and the new book, attempting to walk around him to go sit out by the fire pit for a while. His large hand gently grabbed your upper arm, tugging you into his body, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, your arms trapped between you.

“Tell me you’re proud of me.” He whispered into your hair, his voice suddenly soft, heartbreaking.

“I am proud of you Ransom.” You shifted your belongings to your left hand, tugging your right from against his chest to wrap around his torso. “I’m very proud of you.”

Book published, royalties rolling in, Ransom was making his own money now. He was more cocky than ever. Proud. The, I-don’t-need-you-anymore-mom, attitude. But can you still pay my babysitter? The girls came more easily than ever before, not that they didn’t come easy before the bestseller.

Every. Night.

Sometimes two girls were leaving in the morning, gently ushered out the door with promises of a phone call and a, “I’ll let him know.” It made you feel dirty, betraying almost. Like you were supposed to be on these girl’s side instead of cleaning up after Ransom’s mess.

You could gag. The milky condoms, two of them, tossed haphazardly aside on the hardwood floor of Ransom’s bedroom. Disgusting. You could hear him laughing at you now.

“It could be you,” He says, “Just say the word.” If you weren’t so irritated with Ransom for this very thing your panties would be dripping with the thought.

He’s sitting at the kitchen island forking soft scrambled eggs into his mouth, cheesy with peppers and onions, the way he likes them, the way you made them, when you come downstairs. “You could at least throw the condoms in the fucking trash Ransom.” He looked up from his eggs to you, peeling off the latex gloves you’d just used, smirking.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Asshole.

“You’re disgusting.” You begin on the dishes, taking a sip of your now lukewarm coffee. You hear the stool scoot back against the floor, “That wasn’t an invitation.” You said, hearing his approach. His arms wrapped around your middle as you began to scrub. His head rested on your shoulder.

“You love me.” He slowly rocked your body side to side, “You love how disgusting I am.” You tried to shrug him off of you, but he held you tighter. Since last Christmas when you curled up in his lap and held him for two hours until he was sober enough to leave you he’d been slowly getting more and more affectionate with you. He was touch starved, hungry for it. The intimacy of holding and being held.

You didn’t picture Linda as much of a hugger.

The house was decorated. It was the least he could do for you really. This was the first Christmas since your Mother died that you and your sister wouldn’t be completing your tradition, but you tried not to think about it. Ransom humored you just after Thanksgiving, bringing home a fake Christmas tree, ornaments and lights. You’d ordered a couple of extras online and three stockings were on the mantle, Christmas lights lined the windows giving the house a warm glow.

“I’m sending everyone in my family a copy.” He told you, “a signed copy.” Of his book. Rubbing their noses in it. The book has firmly held the number one spot on the New York Times Bestseller List for weeks. Already over a million copies have been sold. Whether its due to the fame of the not-murder trial or Harlan’s legacy you couldn’t be sure, but even without those things the book was incredibly good.

Ransom could have made it on his own, a long time ago.

“You don’t think that’s a little crass?” He released you long enough for you to finish loading the dishwasher, watching you place the pod of soap and shut it like he didn’t realize that’s actually what you’re supposed to do.

“Fuck them,” He scoffed, “They’ve always hated me.”

“To be fair,” You turned to the soft sweater clad man leaning against the kitchen island, “You’re an asshole.”

He smirked, “Yeah, but that’s why I’m so charming.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

It could almost be domestic. The way things were now. So different from before. Yeah Ransom was still bringing a new girl home almost every night and sure you could hear them fuck from your bed on the other side of the wall, but for the most part it was always just the two of you.

His parents never ventured out here much anymore, since his book was published he had a deadline for the next book that needed to be completed so he wrote almost every day now, sometimes for hours. You made his every meal, on the odd occasion you’d order out. Sometimes when he needed a break he would come sit on the sofa with you as you watched whatever show you were currently obsessed with. One time you walked in on him watching Love Island by himself and you hadn’t let him live it down yet, maybe not ever.

He grew soft, sweet almost. A kiss against your palm. Hugs from behind as you worked at the stove. A snuggle of feet under his thigh as you watched Miracle on 34th Street by a crackling fire. Wordlessly anticipating each others needs. It spoke to a high level of intimacy. Something you both chose to ignore.

It was nice.

He didn’t go out on Christmas Eve. Not only because his usual bar was closing earlier than normal because of the holiday, he assured you, but because he wanted to stay in. Snow was falling thick outside, a foot of it already blanketed on the ground. To tell the truth you didn’t want him to go out in this weather anyway. You knew he was willing to drive a little drunk and he didn’t exactly obey speed limits. It was safer here.

You were still reeling from the argument you had with your sister earlier in the night. You called her to see what she was doing, but she was at a friends house and wanted nothing to do with you. Since the house arrest you haven’t exactly been on speaking terms. She wasn’t Ransom’s biggest fan and didn’t really understand why you needed to do this. You could kind of blame it on yourself for her having no idea how much money you needed to keep her in school, her cello and lessons weren’t cheap and nor are the electronics she seemed so attached to. This two year sentence you were playing out for Ransom would put you in the green, far in the green, so far in the green that you were willing to put up with all his petty bullshit and be okay with your sister hating you if it meant your futures were secure.

After all this was over, you might just be able to go back to school.

“Are you hungry?” You removed your feet from their spot beneath his thigh, grabbing both of your now empty mugs, padding over to the kitchen. Your stomach had just begun to growl. The stew you had simmering on the stove was ready to eat.

“Yeah,” Ransom replied, not turning away from the television. Santa’s trial had just began. It was a strange thing, having him watch classic Christmas movies, soft in sweats and a comical christmas sweater you jokingly bought him. “I look good in anything.” He said. He wasn’t lying.

You poured two bowls full, bringing over a plate with some crusty bread he was kind enough to go out and grab for you earlier in the day. “Thank you,” He said softly as he took the bowl from your hands, eyes still not moving from the screen. He quickly spooned some into his mouth,

“It’s hot.” You said, his only reaction being trying to rapidly cool it in his mouth, his tongue probably burned. He gave you a glare, before resting the bowl on the coffee table. This could almost be a relationship. The two of you together. In this oddly domestic moment. He was the only man in your life right now, it wasn’t like you had many options for seeking others.

That’s why you would get so hot and bothered with him. And that’s the only reason.

He had never seen A Miracle on 34th Street before. You’d think with how old fashioned Harlan was he would have at least seen it once or twice, but then again, any time spent together as a family was always strained and argumentative.

Even when he was a kid though? He was the first grandchild. His mother was the first child of Harlan. You were sure when he was a child he was spoiled rotten, more toys than he could play with, never wanting for anything. But that wasn’t exactly true. The touch starved trust-fund baby didn’t get the one thing kids need the most, more than presents, toys, electronics. Real genuine love.

His Mother loved him to an extent. It’s why you were the one on house arrest instead of him, but she thought loving him meant giving him whatever he wants. When we all know that’s not what kids want. They want to be told no, given structure, rules. How many times have you gotten into arguments with your sister because you didn’t allow her to go roam the streets at night without supervision or give her money for some stupid thing she wouldn’t be even bothered with in two weeks?

But you could also see how no one really knows how to raise a child and you just try your best. Having Harlan for a Father couldn’t have been easy.

Under the tree that you’d decorated and in the stockings you’d hung were presents. Ransom had everything he’d ever wanted, but you couldn’t help but want him to have something to open tomorrow morning. Granted it wouldn’t be much, but it’s the thought that counts. In the fridge you already have most of what will go into tomorrow’s dinner made. Hopefully your sister thinks about your extended invitation and Ransom can go pick her up at some point tomorrow. You missed her, a lot. Your heart ached with wishes that she was here right now.

Ransom’s eyes had gotten shifty. The movie was coming to an end and his bowl was empty. “Did you want more?” You asked him, thinking that would be the cause of his shiftiness, maybe indecisive?

“No.” He cleared his throat, “I’m not going to be home for dinner tomorrow.” You weren’t sure you heard that properly.

“You’re not going to be home….” You started, picking his bowl up from the coffee table and standing, “For dinner on Christmas?”

He was scared to tell you, that’s cute. Your body was bristling with anger as you took the stew off the stove to cool before you could properly store it. He didn’t move from his spot on the couch.

“My Mother wants me to go to this dinner with-”

“So every other time your Mother wants you to do something it’s ‘fuck you’ and ‘eat shit’, but when we’ve already made plans for tomorrow and my sister-” You felt tears prickle in your eyes. “What the fuck Ransom?” His face was stoic from the couch.

“Why does it matter?” He asked, “I stayed home tonight!”

“And that makes up for it?” You stood at the kitchen counter, staring across the room at him. “I already started on dinner, Ransom. You couldn’t have maybe said something while I was prepping all of this?” You gestured to the fridge. He shrugged.

“I didn’t know that was all for tomorrow.” His face still betrayed no expression.

“She can come here,” You offered, “We can have dinner here.” His eyes shifted away from yours to watch the rolling credits.

“She doesn’t want to.” He stood from the couch, rounding towards the tree slowly, searching.

“Why not?” He was being shady about this, the whole situation was strange. “I already have all of this food prepared and I can’t pick up Julia myself… Ransom?”

“She doesn’t like being around you.” He stated honestly, he picked a box out among the presents under the tree, eyes meeting yours as he fumbled with it.

“What?” You get it. She’s technically your employer. But she’s never had any issue dropping in for dinner or putting you to work on some task for herself.

“Listen,” He came closer to where you still stood, your chest tightening. “Y/N, I hate my family-”

“Then why are you going to-”

“I have to do this.” His cheeks were flushed, you could tell he was uncomfortable. “My therapist… I don’t want to do this.” He slid the box across the counter top. “I don’t want to go, but I have to.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better about it?” You scoffed, picking up the gold wrapped box. His mouth opened and then quickly shut without speaking. You sighed heavily, a headache coming on. “I’ve got nothing, Ransom. All I wanted to do tomorrow was spend some time with my family and if you’re not going to be around…”

“I know, I can maybe go pick your sister up in the morning?” He offered. Your eyes watery, staring at him. He doesn’t get it. Your heart was aching a bit.

“You’re such an asshole.” You spat, leaving the present still wrapped in front of you, thumbing the thick wrapping paper.

“I know.” He swallowed.

“What does your therapist want you to do?” You never talked about what went on in his therapy sessions. He was too closed off after them, drank too heavily, lashed out too easily. You’d let him slowly work through his refractory period and let him cozy up to you once he was feeling better.

Ransom felt awkward, you could feel it. He was uncomfortable.

“Why does this matter so much to you?” He asked. He was turning. He got too emotional. “It doesn’t matter what I have to do or where I have to do it. I said I would go pick Julia up, I’m giving you what you want.”

“Fine.” You were staring each other down. “I’ll let her know you’ll be there to get her around noon and then you can go have dinner with the people you hate.” He rolled his eyes,

“I don’t know what you think this is, Y/N.” He scoffed, “You still work for me, we’re not playing house here.”

“Then stop making me.” You spat back at him, both of you in a similar stance, hands gripping the edge of the stone counter top.

“I’m not making you do anything.” There was a rage growing in his eyes.

“You are, Ransom. I take care of you like you’re my own fucking child. I clean up all of your messes, I cook all of your fucking food, I do everything for you.”

“I don’t ask you to.”

“You don’t have to! You literally just expect it of me.” You yelled.

“Because it’s your job.” He laughed, throwing his hands into the air. “I have no loyalty to you Y/N. None.” Fine.

Fine.

You hated him. You fucking hated him. You were doing all of this for him. And you’ve never felt more dumb in your life. The house arrest bracelet on your ankle felt heavier than ever. It itches like mad.

“Fuck you Ransom.” You rounded the counter, moving towards the stairs when he grabbed your arm.

“Take the gift.” He slapped the box into your hand.

“I don’t want the fucking gift, Hugh.” He looked taken aback for a moment.

“Don’t call me that.” His hand fell from your arm, stepping closer to you.

“That’s what you want, right?” You asked, “You want me to do all of these things for you and take care of you and fucking hold you when you need comfort but when I’m fucking trying to make things easier for you, you’re all the sudden ‘I have no loyalty to you.”

“Wait a fucking minute,” He growled, “I take care of you too. Who the fuck buys all the shit you want on a fucking whim? You’re in the mood for curry, I get you curry. You make a comment about how you really want to decorate for Christmas and who fucking gets you everything you need to do that? You say that you really want to get into fucking knitting and who gets you all the fucking shit you need to fucking knit?”

“Buying me things doesn’t mean you care about me Ransom.” You shook the box in your hand for emphasis. “All I wanted to know is what your therapist wants you to do tomorrow, you can go have dinner with your Mother. It’s fine. I just wanted you to fucking open up to me.”

“I am open with you!” He yells, “You know more about me than anyone else in my fucking life, it’s hard for me okay? I can never escape you, you’re always fucking there. I don’t get to fucking-” He placed his hands on his hips, turning from you. He let out a heavy, slow breath. Calming himself down. “I don’t want to go tomorrow, trust me Y/N, I really don’t, but I have to.” His eyes met yours, softer this time.

You felt like some part of you was being irrational. This dinner might help his growth. Whatever milestone he was reaching with his therapist, this could be really good for him. But you also felt a little selfish, you wanted him here, with you. You felt more like his family than anyone else. Or at least, he felt more like your family and he should be here to spend Christmas with his family. You knew he felt at least somewhat the same, if the gifts addressed to Julia under the tree from him were anything to go by. You wanted him here, but he wasn’t yours.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, the tears that were once threatening to spill, now did. “It’s fine.” Your head was pounding. “It’s fine.”

“I know it’s not,” He said softly. “But we can maybe do presents and lunch before I go,” He gestured towards the tree. “I should be back in time for the Grinch.” You were shaking a bit as he approached you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tightly against his body. “I’m sorry baby.” He was so warm, a little sweaty from arguing, but warm. “I’ll make it up to you.” A soft whisper into your hair.

The little gold box was soon opened, a new rose gold cartier bracelet slipped onto your wrist and Ransom left you and your sister the next day wearing the sweater you had so carefully knit for him.

2021

Your breath hitched in your throat, back arching, a loud moan breaking from your lungs. How was he so good at this? Ransom’s tongue was at work between your thighs, large hands cradling your hips, burying his face in your moist heat. You were so close to cumming. And he knew it.

“Oh god,” you moaned, bucking your hips into his face as you rode your orgasm until your body was too sensitive to continue, Ransom moving his attentions to press his lips sloppily against your thighs before making his way up your body.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he lamented as he pressed his lips to your flushed cheeks and panting mouth, parting your thighs fully around his hips to tease your opening with the blunt head of his cock. “So fucking beautiful.” He moaned into your open mouth as he breeches you.

He felt so fucking good. You’d never get over it, you were sure. Ransom was patient, biding his time. He wasn’t that guy who had to be as deep inside you as possible, chasing his orgasm by stabbing your cervix. Over time he mapped out the location of your g-spot, shifting his hips and cock to brush against the spot with every thrust, working you up and making your eyes roll back in your head.

Those girls screamed with good reason. Just as you did now. Gushing wet around him as you came for the second time, looking up wantonly into his flushed face, lips swollen from first kissing and then pulling you apart with his tongue. Your fingers curled in his chest hair as he picked up pace, chasing his own release now, your hips lifting off the bed to aid him.

“So fucking good baby,” His eyes screwed shut as he moans, arms trembling, “You fuck me so good baby.” He sat back on his haunches, pulling your hips roughly to his, your sensitive clit grinding against his pubic bone almost bringing you over again as he cums. Hips stuttering into yours as you feel him empty himself into you.

His head tilted towards the ceiling, eyes dropping to find you, hands still gripping your hips and as much of your ass as he can manage. “I love you.”

It never gets old.

He said those words to you ever chance he got. It was as if he was trying to make up for a lifetime without it. Love.

Early morning sleepy soft kisses, I love you.

Silent breakfast with your feet in his lap, I love you.

Scratching his back as you peered over his shoulder while he was writing, I love you.

Feet stuffed under his thigh watching Outlander and drinking hot tea, I love you.

Buried deep inside you, panting mouths a breath apart, bodies flushed and sweaty, sheets damp with cum, I love you.

“I think you’re the only person I’ve ever loved.”

It was intense. His love for you.

He tried hard. He didn’t know how it was supposed to work. A real relationship, a real honest to god loving relationship. But he was trying.

The first few months of the relationship you gained a lot of new jewelry, a new iPad, clothes, shoes. “You don’t have to buy me things to prove that you love me, Ransom.”

Then came flowers and lots of them. Sometimes just one, sometimes a bouquet. Regardless there were multiple vases that stayed filled throughout the house, always with fresh flowers never given time to fully wilt.

After that was the touching. Always some sort of physical contact. Whether you were cuddling on the couch or a blink away from sleep with his ankle wrapped around yours, if you were in a room together there was always some sort of contact.

Your house arrest bracelet was removed, and a gold anklet replaced it. You were free to leave, live on your own. Move out and back into that shitty apartment with your sister, but this was early days in the newfound relationship with Ransom.

He’d bought you a house.

He’s paying for your sisters school.

He’s paying you to still work for him.

It was a Victorian. The house. Not at all like his contemporary cube he knew you despised. A rich dark brown with a large porch. Much too big for just you and your sister, so 6 months after the two of you moved in, Ransom sold his house and moved in too.

Julia was warming up to him. At first she wasn’t a fan. It took a long time, many dinners with Ransom, ‘family outings’, you hoped she could see the way he treated you now. The way he’s kind of always treated you. Her love was easily bought with the new house, her latest generation iPhone and the fact that she now had a monthly allowance. It didn’t stop you from making her get an after school job at the school library though.

Now with a house of your own, you were doing something you’d always dreamed of. Watching Ransom try to hang Christmas lights.

“I’ll just pay someone to do it,” He offered, looking skeptically at the boxes you had placed on the dining room table, “I’m not going up there to do it.”

But there he was, up there doing it while you looked up at him from the bottom of the ladder. “This is the fucking worst.” He exclaimed, taking the light clips and attaching them to the roof. “Why are we doing this?”

“Because you love me and you want to make me happy.” You laughed. He rolled his eyes, squinting against the sun.

“I’m not so sure,” He attached a few more clips within reach before steadily climbing down the ladder. “I think you’re trying to kill me.”

“I’m the beneficiary on your life insurance right?” You jokingly asked as his feet hit the ground. He laughed at your bad joke,

“I think that’s in pretty poor taste, but…” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Yes.”

“Julia should be home soon and then we can decorate the tree,” You wrapped your arms around his middle, capturing his lips with your own, “And make some cookies,” You kissed him again,

“And have a drink.” He smirked against your lips.

“You have a therapy appointment today,” You walked over to the steps, “You’re not having anything to drink.” He rolled his eyes at you once more, shooing you into the house as he re-positioned the ladder to go back up and finish stringing the lights.

You had to be proud of him. Court mandated therapy ended when your house arrest did, but he still went every week. At first it was due to a little pushing by you, but eventually he made the appointments on his own. He was getting better. Still a dick, but that was his nature. He wasn’t quick to anger anymore, his emotions took a more level head. And he was now publishing books twice a year. He’s got five books out now, and almost 100 million copies sold. Which is incredible.

You started back to school, Ransom wanting to start his own publishing company, “I’m paying for you to go to business school as an investment in our future.” He claimed. Once you were done with school your job would be to then help him open his own publishing company where you’d overlook everything. A daunting task, but it was hard not to believe in yourself when Ransom made himself your own personal cheerleader. “You’re brilliant,” He would say, “You’re so smart, you’ve just been dealt a bad hand until now.”

And now he was stacking that hand to the best of his ability.

Finals had been last week and you still marveled at the fact that as you poured over your last assignments and studying, Ransom would make you coffee and massage your shoulders whereas you would usually do the same for him as he was finishing a book.

You’d gone to a couple therapy sessions with him, the first time he’d invited you was strange and you didn’t know what would even be discussed, but as you sat in the session and he was finally completely bare to you, you couldn’t help but feel like it was his idea and not his therapist’s.

That session changed the dynamic between the two of you for sure.

After the dam broke, the two of you having sex for the first time and Ransom’s admission of love it wasn’t easy. He was still an asshole and as someone who had never been in a relationship before, this first real relationship, he didn’t really know how to behave.

You had one session a month together and it was probably one of the best ideas Ransom ever had.

He was a little sullen when he came home later that night, coming to curl himself around you as you placed the cookies you and Julia had baked earlier into the decorative metal tins you had just bought.

Sometimes it was like this, sadness. His lips gently pressing themselves against your cheek, his body tightly pressed against yours trying to pull as much comfort as he possibly could. “I don’t want to talk about it,” He whispered softly, “Not yet.”

“Okay.” You knew what he needed and what he needed was a little bit of time. You offered him a cookie, chocolate and peanut butter, still warm. He took it gently from your fingers, pulling away to go to his study, but not before pulling you into a soft lingering kiss. An apology for what you knew would be a distant night. A ‘I don’t know when I’ll be coming to bed’ night. You were sure you’d have three new chapters to go over in the morning.

You loved the snow. Almost a foot of it had fallen overnight, frosting the windows and giving your home a beautiful Christmas glow. It made your home feel cozy and well slept as you stretched your limbs out, hand coming to run across Ransom’s back. So he did come to bed after all. You rolled over to face him, laying on his belly, arms folded under his pillow facing you.

God he is beautiful.

You hated it about him. So handsome. You brushed his fallen hair out of his face, pressing a kiss to his scrunched brow. He was letting his beard grow out for the winter. It made him even more attractive, the bastard.

Julia was just getting up for school, standing in the kitchen in her uniform, eating toast and facetiming a friend. She was in a carpool, this house you lived in, while comfortably distanced from others, was in a neighborhood of other kids that went to her same school. Something you’re sure Ransom took into account when buying this house in the first place. You drove the kids to school on Friday when you didn’t have any classes. Today was a different parent’s turn.

“Can I take some of these to school?” She asked, picking up a tin of cookies.

“Yeah, but take the red one.” You popped a k-cup into the keurig. “Those haven’t touched any nuts.”

“Mila’s Mom said we can go to the mall after school to go get presents for the pollyanna our class is having, is that okay?” She was such a good kid. Getting older now, she was almost ready to learn how to drive, something you’d been dreading, but for whatever reason Ransom was really looking forward to.

“You have money still?” You asked, preparing a second cup of coffee for the sleeping bear upstairs.

“I mean,” She smirked, “Unless you want to give me more…?” You rolled your eyes, turning towards your younger sibling.

“What time will you be home?” The car had just pulled up outside, horn letting out a quick ‘honk’ to let her know they were here.

Julia shrugged, hugging you, “We might get dinner, but probably no later than 8. I’ll text you.” She shrugged her coat on, opening the front door as you called behind her,

“Text me when you get to the mall and when you’re on your way home!”

“Okay!” She yelled back, trudging through the snow to the car.

“Keep your location on!” You could almost feel her roll her eyes at you,

“Okay!” Annoyed this time.

“I love you!” You shouted as she got in the car, slamming the door behind her. Your phone chimed with reply,

love you too

With that you went to rouse the sleeping man upstairs.

He groaned unhappily when you woke him up, but it was quickly soothed by the coffee you’d supplied him with.

Christmas was quickly approaching. The first Christmas you’d be spending together as a real, honest to god, family. In your own home, ready to begin your own traditions. The house was beautifully decorated and almost always smelled like cookies and a Christmas movie or music was always playing in the background.

There was a truly sweet moment you’d wanted to commit to memory for the rest of your life. Julia rolling out cookie dough, Christmas music blaring obnoxiously loud and Ransom coming out from his study yelling,

“I can’t write anything in a house this loud!” Walking over to the sound system and turning it down to a soft ambling. Your sister and you looking at him and laughing, the red faced lumberjack quickly losing steam as he realized he was wearing the hideous Christmas sweater you’d jokingly bought him last year. “It’s the warmest sweater I own.” He claimed. Sure. Sure it is.

He turned the music back up a little louder, coming to a happy medium. His embarrassment waning as he looked at the two of you in the kitchen. A family that didn’t argue with every other word. People who genuinely loved each other. Something he never knew he wanted or needed. He came over to you, gently clasping your hands before tugging you into his body to ridiculously dance around to Jingle Bell Rock. The three of you peeling with laughter. Was this even real life anymore? With a soft parting kiss and a peak over your sisters shoulder to steal some cookie dough he was reluctantly walking back to his study, coming to join you twenty minutes later after finishing the chapter he’d been working on all day.

The three of you spent the rest of the night in the living room, watching the cheesy A Christmas Prince series on Netflix and eating what was sure your body weight in popcorn. Cozy with your little family.

“Do you think she’d like a puppy?” Ransom whispered into your neck one night.

“Do not.” You were close to sleep, just about to drift off, when his question stirred you awake.

“I always wanted a puppy when I was a kid.” He pressed a kiss against your neck, fingers gently tugging your nipple.

“I’ll be the one taking care of it,” You whimpered as his other hand sunk between your thighs, “Do not get her a puppy.” His lips met your shoulder and you turned in his arms, thighs parting as he lightly stroked your clit.

“You’ll get there.” He pressed his lips against yours, teasing your entrance with his fingers, his now hard cock nudging against your thigh. “You’ll warm up to the idea.”

“No…” You whined, his fingers beginning to stroke your g-spot, his body coming to lay over yours, his eyes half lidded and lips wet and red came to meet yours as he removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock. “Fuck.” His fingers laced themselves through yours, pressing your hands against the sheets as he began to rock his hips slowly into yours.

“You’re so sweet on me baby,” He mouthed against your lips, “So sweet on us.” He moaned. Your hips ground against his with every thrust. This slow love making that was making you gush around him, pussy making obscene sounds with every tilt of his hips, gently brushing the parts of you that make your legs shake. He chest close to yours, the begging in his eyes,

“You’ll be such a good mother,” His hips met yours a little harder on that one causing you to gasp, pussy clenching around him. “Gonna give me what I want for Christmas?” He asked. He did this sometimes, knowing you were still on birth control and the actual relationship was still relatively new, the two of you had been together for almost a year now, you knew that he’d been toying with the idea of having a baby. You’d talked about it in therapy recently.

“I love you,” He moaned, his hips build up a little speed as your legs came to wrap high around his waist. “I can’t wait,” He groaned, “So good to me.” His lips capturing yours passionately as his hips stalled, grinding himself against your g-spot, pubic bone rubbing your clit as you found your orgasm, pussy gushing wet dripping down his thighs onto the bed as you moaned into his mouth.

“You’ll be such a good mother baby, such a good fucking mother.” His hips picked back up in pace, “I’d do anything for you baby. Anything.” He was chasing his release now, thrusting against your sensitive clit making you reel again before releasing your hands and grabbing your thighs, pushing them back high against the bed, just making you take it. You both had to try to be quiet here, your sister on the floor above you, your hand covered your mouth as you tried to muffle the loud obnoxious squealing that came uncontrollably as his hips slapped against your ass in this position. Sweat forming on his brow and head thrown back as he groans through his teeth, feeling him empty his seed deep against your cervix.

In all the years you’d known him Ransom was never a kid person. He didn’t like small children, but he also didn’t come into contact with them often which is why it was so strange two months ago when he originally brought up the idea. “I think we would make pretty okay parents,” He said, “Better than mine definitely.” It made your heart flutter, thinking of a life with him. Knowing that he was also thinking about a life with you, but it’s just not the right time.

What wasn’t surprising about any of this was on Christmas morning, after breakfast and the exchanging of handmade sweaters, new books to read, a couple new apple watches, and your sister and you receiving matching earrings, a gorgeous little blue nose pit bull puppy, one that reminded you of your childhood dog was brought out with a little pink bow around its neck. Ransom ignored your glare as he handed the sweet little thing to your sister, who was crying in happiness.

He would remind you later on that he found you cooing to the sweet little thing only a few minutes after that, the puppy curled up in your arms, licking your fingers in earnest.

“Don’t you have something else?” Julia asked him.

“Julia this is plenty,” You scolded, “He’s gotten you enough.” She rolled her eyes.

“It’s not for me.” She laughed. The little puppy sleeping in her arms and you scratched it behind it’s ears, turning to Ransom who shifted nervously to one knee, a ring box open in his hand.

“Stop it.” Came out from a very watery smile. He licked his lips, tugging his bottom one between his teeth before starting,

“You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

TAGLIST //

@littlechillies @hellizhelusive2 @notbexmader @marvelouspottering @whitequeenasitbgan @Thegraylaway @readermia @i-believe-in-unicorns-and-you @princess-evans-addict @perplexed3001 @deidrashouseofpain @hailmary-yramliah @sleepycvpid @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @starlywars @gifsbysimplysonia @rocknbasil @imnotelasticheart @wannabegonnie @d1sconnect3d @heyguyz13 @unimomajo @this-is-serenaa @bookish-shristi @auroussss

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #knives out #Chris Evans

4K notes · View notes

ao3-sucks · 4 years

Text

An Archive of Someone’s Own: my experiences being groomed in fandom circles on AO3

TW: Childhood sexual abuse, grooming, mentions of incest and rape.

I used to be a big writer of fanfiction. It was the logical choice for me. I loved to write and create bold and immersive worlds, and I craved an audience who would enjoy my work as much as I did. Since my writing wasn’t actually good, I needed a community of other amateurs who wouldn’t mind that, and by tweaking my characters and settings into ones from canonical media, I got the audience I so craved.

I started writing fanfiction online when I was 14, posting initially on FanFiction.net and then moving to AO3 a few months later. As I got back into writing original fiction towards the end of high school, I lost interest in this community, and it’s been a long time since I posted anything much on AO3.

I’ve always struggled with the fact I display a lot of symptoms of CSA, and for the longest time, I couldn’t figure out why. Throughout my teen years, I refused to get changed or bathe when anyone was even vaguely nearby, constantly paranoid about being spied on; I developed a severe touch phobia, and would have frequent panic attacks from something as small as brushing arms with a passerby; I resolutely identified as asexual and refused to get into anything resembling a relationship with others because the very concept disgusted and repulsed me.

Weird, considering I had grown up pretty normal and all of these symptoms had started around my early teens. It was only when I told my friends about my friendship with a 30 year old I had met online that the pieces started falling into place for me.

Child grooming is usually discussed in the context of one adult going out of their way to befriend a child with the goal of lowering their resistance to sexual abuse, through normalisation and friendliness. I’d like to talk about how that worked on the fanfiction website AO3. Since it’s an open website and most communication takes place between anonymous users or accounts in the comments section of a work, there is very little delineation between spaces for adults to discuss whatever dark topics they like and spaces for kids to do the same.

This frequently leads to pretty inappropriate conversations between people of widely varying ages and life experiences, which is how I ended up talking sex as a fourteen year old with people ranging from a couple of years older than me, who were generally okay, to more than twice my age. The 30 year old in question listed on her profile how many pedophilic ships she loved, and she knew my age but pushed me to keep discussing sexual topics with her. Sounds like a red flag, yeah? Well. I was 14, and very stupid.

This 30 year old woman, who I will call Aku (because it’s similar to her screen name and because it’s funny to name her after the bad guy from Samurai Jack) would start conversations with me whenever I posted anything to AO3 and would refuse to take no for an answer when I tried to back out of conversations with her, and since these conversations were public and occurring within comments, I didn’t want to be rude to her since this was taking place on content I was trying to promote.

I told her my age multiple times and she would either pretend she forgot from last time (saying her memory is super bad) or continue as though it was just trivia about me and not a sign she shouldn’t have been pushing me. My primary objection to what she would say to me (since most of it was just her being annoying) was her insistence on sexualising everything I wrote, and her determination to push me into writing pornographic content, which I eventually gave in to.

Yes, she was a terrible person. She emailed me using her personal email address, so I know her full name and place of residence, because she’s an idiot. These emails also contain sexually explicit materials. Nothing much ever happened between us except for these very creepy interactions and the fact we remained online friends for a few years. But here’s the thing: she wasn’t the only person pushing me into creating sexual content. Lots of people would comment on my writing demanding that I show explicit sexual content when I really didn’t want to.

After a while it felt like I couldn’t write a longer, romantic fanfiction without including explicit sexual content. Like my work wasn’t valid without it. Other, more popular writers were usually sexual in their content, and I wanted to be like them and bring in the views, right? So, when I look at my back catalog of works, I can see how my content moved from completely non-sexual to featuring sexual content over time, and the views usually came with. In this way, I was in an environment that was encouraging me on many levels to sexualise my own work, which impacted the way I thought about my creative process.

Here’s another example I remember. When I was a young sprout, I remember reading down someone’s list of fanfiction recommendations and seeing a work called Hug Therapy, which I promptly read. While the work is marked as explicit and containing the Loki/Thor pairing, the use of relationship and rating tags on AO3 is so poorly regulated that it didn’t really mean anything to me to see either of those. People tag hardcore material as non-explicit and tag friendships as relationships, because there’s no motivation to tag properly. Plus, someone I followed here on Tumblr had recommended it to me.

Now, you wouldn’t know from the listing, but while this piece starts out as comedy, it turns out in the end to include rape, incest, and BDSM in very explicit terms. The fact it was tagged as being explicit didn’t slow me down, because the liberal use of these tags could mean that an explicit tag was just there because sexual content was implied or mentioned, which I thought would be the case based on the rest of the listing. Out of curiosity, I recently tried to report this work to the moderators for containing no warnings about incest or rape, and I got this in response:

“Selecting “Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings” satisfies a creator’s obligation under the warnings policy. Users who wish to avoid specific elements entirely should not access fanworks marked with “Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings”. Our Terms of Service note: “You understand that using the Archive may expose you to material that is offensive, triggering, erroneous, sexually explicit, indecent, blasphemous, objectionable, grammatically incorrect, or badly spelled. ….. This decision is in accordance with our policy of maximum inclusiveness; we have therefore closed this case and will not be investigating further.”

Which, yeah, I guess. The frustration comes from how ‘Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings’ is an extremely commonly used tag, and most things that it’s used on are totally harmless.

This fanfiction, which I was recommended by a friend, is hugely popular, in the top 60 most read fanfictions in the entire fandom. You wanna hear the kicker? The author, Astolat, is one of the founders of AO3. They’re not just some random author who isn’t following the rules. They’re a creator of the whole website, and they made the rules. This is pretty telling about how seriously the website actually takes protecting their users.

My final example I want to give is one of fetish content. People in fetish communities generally (not always) say that fetishes are probably something one should work up to after the onset of sexual activity, especially potentially harmful stuff like BDSM. In the circles I was running in, if you weren’t sporting a fetish or two (no matter your age) you were a boring bitch.

Maybe this isn’t true of everywhere in the fanfiction community, but I used to feel that bizarre pressure until I got out. Bear in mind that my main time in this community was from ages 14 to 17. I never made my age a secret, either. I told people outright I was that age, I was in high school, I was playing hockey and studying The Great Gatsby when I wasn’t online.

Since I was in the Avengers fandom and I liked Loki and the Asgardians, I was frequently exposed to incestuous content between Loki and Thor, and a lot of it came out of nowhere or was poorly tagged. This was considered the norm, and while I at first felt completely horrified and repulsed, within a year or two I no longer gave a shit. It’s only in the last few years as I’ve begun to unpack everything that I’ve started to get that strong revulsion reaction to incestuous content.

In the circles I was in, it was relentlessly normal. Normal to the point that people who disliked it were usually shouted down. Even to this day, debate rages on in fandom spaces about whether or not content like this normalises this kind of abuse. In my own personal experience, which I don’t usually like to talk about, it absolutely does.

In real life, this normalisation started to have serious consequences for my mental health and interpersonal relationships. In fanfiction, any occasion when you are alone with someone could become sexual, any familial relationship is possibly sexual, and it doesn’t matter if you like it or not. I became incredibly anxious around male family members for fear of being sexually assaulted, and my OCD, which I had been developing since I was a child, turned from thoughts of physical violence to thoughts of graphically sexually assaulted by anyone and everyone around me.

My fear of being touched got to the point where I would have panic attacks if anyone came anywhere close to touching me. I quit sports, fucked up my romantic relationships, and didn’t hug anyone, not even members of my family, for years. All the while, I had bought my first laptop and was consuming more fanfiction than ever before. I struggled with my sexuality growing up, as I am bisexual, and while fanfiction provided LGBT content to help me, the content was frequently so disturbing that I viewed any expression of sexuality as something evil and predatory.

The community on AO3, whether you like it or not, is often sexual, and provides no barriers between the casual user looking for content and extremely intense fetish material. It’s sometimes called the Pornhub of fanfiction, but considering the wide range of people who use it, it’s more like if you opened Youtube and saw niche hardcore fetish videos just on the front page, recommended and trending.

Sure, you have to click a little button to confirm you’re 18 before you can actually read a story, but the tags and descriptions of readily available works can be extremely explicit. Fanfiction also brings you into close contact with fellow readers and the author, and encourages you to become a content creator, which in some ways makes it more dangerous.

I was affected much more strongly by what I saw than most people would be, because I was already treading shaky ground. But I’m also not the only person out there who has been hurt in this way. Most of my friends who grew up in fandom can report the impact that fanfiction culture had on them. One of my friends from high school knew a panoply of porn terms at age 14 or so due to reading fanfiction, and another of my other friends at high school almost exclusively read rape porn because it was her favourite. I didn’t have friends who watched porn; I had friends who read fanfiction. These are just as troubling to me as any other accounts of young people consuming visual porn from a very early age.

It’s frequently cited that fanfiction gives minority groups the opportunity for creative outlet. It was a great place for me to cut my teeth as a content creator, and a source of acceptance and kindness when times were tough. Fanfiction communities have historically been the domain of women and minorities, and create a space for these people to tell their own stories.

It’s largely because of this that fanfiction communities fear censorship and strict moderation, as they have been attacked in the past on homophobic or misogynistic grounds, resulting in mass deletions of works or the shutdown of websites. But there must be some middle ground between total censorship and the kind of free rein that puts vulnerable people in danger, and I strongly encourage the board of AO3 to seek this middle ground out.

But it’s the community itself that needs to shape up; AO3 is, after all, a community-led website built by fans for fans, so the fact that this website has such issues is a reflection of the issues that run deeply within the people who created it. Aku didn’t talk to me with the intention of doing me harm, or so I believe at this time, and she didn’t pursue me as a lone wolf or in isolation.

She was simply a particularly brazen member of a community that was used to having inappropriate conversations with young people and sexualising everything they did. Even people my own age were jokingly pushing me into discussing and consuming extremely sexual content. It was just normal. That’s what I want to say here. Inside the world of fandom on AO3, the grooming of children with sexual content is normal. And that’s scary.

- Mod Daft

#mod daft post #ao3 discourse #fandom wank #fanfiction discourse #fanfiction wank #csa//#rape//#grooming//#incest//

891 notes · View notes

mrsseverussnape · 3 years

Text

Love Is You - chapter 7

Scarlett woke up quite early this morning. She was feeling pretty good, apparently talking with someone and going out were pretty much what she has needed. She wanted to return the favour by preparing Severus's breakfast this morning. She dressed up and headed to the kitchens. She wasn't the brightest chef so just made cheese toast, scrambled eggs, cherry tomatoes to the side and fresh orange juice. She took the tray and headed to Severus's room happily. It was hard to hold the tray and knock on the door at the same time but she managed to do it without causing a mess. Severus opened the door couple of minutes later with a sleepy look on his face and a messy hair.

"Oh, i guess i woke you up this time..."

"We are even now. Come in." Severus showed her the table and she put the tray on.

"Today's breakfast is from me, hope you like it."

"It looks delicious, thank you." He sat down after her and took a bite of his toast.

"I did improve my kitchen skills tiny bit, i can show you sometime." Scarlett grinned proudly. She was not the best in the kitchen since her family always had house elves for the cooking. And when she was together with Severus, he was doing most of the cooking and he had a talent for it. His caramel brownies were Scarlett’s favourite.

"If you say so, i am excited to see then."

"Don't get your hopes too high tho."

"Ah i already did, they changed from 1 to 1,5." Severus smirked at her.

"You are a jerk Severus!" Scarlett chuckled and slapped his leg lightly.

He laughed, he loved to annoy Scarlett like that. "Jokes aside thanks for the breakfast Scarlett."

"My pleasure." She smiled softly. "I better leave so you can do whatever you want, i already woke you up early on a Sunday morning." She stood up to leave. Her mood has started to change, she felt like she’s being a burden for him.

"It is totally fine, i normally wake up early anyways. Last night i marked some papers so i went to bed quite late."

"Rest then. You already spent the last two days with me and i was pretty tiring with my nonsense."

Severus shook his head in disapproval. "I like spending my time with you Scarlett. We can all have problems time to time, life is not always easy and fun so don't feel guilty or anything."

"You do me good Severus, i feel better when i am with you..."

Hearing those words made his heart melt. He was very happy that he was actually being helpful to her.

"I will take the dishes and come back then. And meanwhile you can get dressed." She smiled and fixed his messy black hair slightly.

"Thanks..." Severus smiled shyly while she was leaving.

~~~~

Scarlett was walking back to Severus's chamber when she came across with Professor McGonagall.

"Ah Scarlett i was looking for you! You need to go to Albus's room; you have a guest."

"Guest? Who is it?" Not many people knew she was staying at Hogwarts so she wasn’t expecting any guests.

"The new deputy minister."

Now Scarlett had a even more confused look on her face so McGonagall continued. "I know you are not in the mood for such meeting, so i tried to send him back but he was pretty persistent."

"That's weird but i guess i have to meet him... Thank you Minerva." She smiled and headed to Dumbledore's room. She knocked and walked in after hearing the headmaster’s invitation.

"Oh hello Scarlett! Someone wants to meet you, i will leave you alone." Dumbledore greeted her and then left, leaving her alone with the new deputy minister. The tall man has stood up, Scarlett took a look at him and first thing came to her mind was he was looking like a human version of a husky dog with blond hair. His light blue eyes were so piercing and made her feel uncomfortable in a way.

"Hello Miss Rose. I am Amos Langley, the new deputy minister." He held his hand out for her to shake.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Langley." She shook his hand but his grip was strong enough to hurt her hand.

He looked at her head to toe attentively. He has seen her before but mostly on newspapers and magazines. She was the type of woman who so many men would dream of to be with. Even though she wasn’t looking her best right now, she still had the captivating aura. "I heard the news. It's such a shame you've been cheated on, you are such a beautiful and intelligent woman Miss Rose." Amos sent a tiny smirk to her way while sitting down. She was feeling extremely uncomfortable with him and just wanted this meeting to end as quickly as possible.

"My personal life is none of your business and I am asking you to be respectful. Beside that I am guessing you didn't come here just to meet me Mr. Langley, may i ask what's the real reason? Because i don't have much time." Scarlett replied firmly.

"I thought you have plenty of time Miss Rose since you are unemployed now. Anyways, the real reason is that i want to abolish a law which you legislated."

"You know you can do it without asking me, right?"

"I know but the minister wanted me to consult you first, he is still very fond of you Miss Rose." He made an unamused expression.

"Which law is that?"

"The one that causing death eaters to serve in Azkaban for rest of their lives."

"Why would you want to change that one?" Scarlett raised her eyebrow questioningly.

"I think it is very cruel to put someone in jail because they chose a different side than the majority."

"It is not about choosing a different side but the side they chose murdered innocent people and caused a war."

"Everybody deserves a second chance Miss Rose, even the "bad" ones."

"I am not the decision maker anymore; you can do whatever you want since you are the new deputy minister but if you ask me i don't think this law should be abolished." Scarlett stood up, she had enough of this man.

"Thank you for sharing your opinion Miss Rose but like you said, you are not the decision maker anymore. I just come here because the minister wanted it."

"Well okay then. Have a good day."

"You too Miss Rose, you too." Amos Langley watched her go with a challenging look on his face.

~~~~

Scarlett was so confused and annoyed, it was such a weird conversation and made her extremely uncomfortable. She went to Severus's room directly after it ended.

"I thought you got lost on the way." Severus said while letting her in.

"New deputy minister came here to "meet" me. But it was actually a showdown." She sat on a chair while murmuring angrily.

"By looking at your face, i am guessing you didn't like him?" Severus sat in front of her.

"I hated him. Severus he was just... so weird."

"What do you mean?"

"He kept calling me "Miss Rose" in an annoying tone, literally crushed my hand while shaking it, mentioned the cheating situation and he wants to abolish the law that i made about death eaters."

"I wasn't expecting that much fuckery to be honest. What is his problem?"

"I don't know but i got such a bad vibe from him, something is off with him but i can't put my finger on. I will write a letter to the minister later."

"That's a good idea. Don’t think much about him, probably he was just trying to annoy you."

"He was so weird..." she mumbled to herself once again.

~~~~

Around 8 pm Carina and Remus turned back to Hogwarts after spending their weekend with Sirius.

"I will come with you, i want to see Scarlett as well." Remus followed Carina to her chamber.

"Sure, uncle Rem, hopefully she is doing better. I couldn't stop thinking about her."

"Her letters sounded good though. I think she is doing okay."

Carina nodded and walked in her chamber but it was dark and Scarlett was not here. She immediately started to worry, thought the worst and run to the Professor Snape's room, knocking it in hope to find her there. Nobody answered the door, now that made her even more worried if it’s possible.

"Where are they!? Did something happen to mum and he had to take her to the hospital...?" Carina was panicking and pacing around. Remus held her softly to stop.

"Don't worry if something has happened Severus would let you know for sure. Maybe he is in his class, marking papers? Let’s check there."

He walked her to the potions class and Carina rushed in with worried eyes. Severus and Scarlett turned to see the person who interrupted them.

"Mum!" Carina run to her. "I couldn't find you in the room, i was scared!"

Scarlett hugged her daughter and caressed her hair to calm her down. "I am fine, we are playing chess here."

"Oh... i am sorry that i rushed in Professor..."

"It is okay." He smiled slightly.

"How are you doing Scarlett?" Remus asked her while kissing her cheek. That caused him getting a deadly glance from Severus.

"I am good, pretty good actually. Thanks to Severus, he took care of me really well." She smiled softly at him.

"No doubt he did... Anyways, you are having the dinner with me tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay, i would like that."

"Okay then, good night everybody." Remus waved at them before he left the classroom.

They wished him good night except Severus.

"Mum i will be in the room, okay? You can continue your game. Good night professor and thanks again."

"Good night Carina." Severus smiled at her and turned his attention back to Scarlett.

"I was taking your queen." Scarlett grinned and knocked his queen down. "Aaaand checkmate!"

Taglist:

@snapefiction @lizlil @elizabeth-baelish @misselsbells06 @mais-e @lunnybunny12 @anfre109 @entirelymesmerising @wolvesofwinter13 @mrssnivellussnape @mestin-writes

If you wanna be on my taglist, let me know!

17 notes · View notes

themonkeycabal · 3 years

Text

WandaVision Ep 8 Spoilers

(THERE IS A MID-CREDITS SCENE, BTW)

Previously on WandaVision: It was Agatha all along.

This show has really come along well. I was worried after the first couple episodes, which were extremely slow, but it's tightened up and been entertaining as heck, in addition to being kind of a surprising meditation on grief and dealing or not dealing. You go along with wacky sitcom hijinks and then get whacked with the reminder so many things that have happened here are driven by terrible loss.

Anyway …. Acting Director Dick is Up To Something regarding Vision, and I fear we're all going to have to endure lots of his jackassery this episode. He's the not very fun part of this show, tbh. But we're getting down to it, so hopefully he gets his comeuppance sooner rather than later. And then on to deal with Agatha. Who is fabulously rotten. I love her, I have to say.

I guess this all leads into Doctor Strange 2, which I didn't know until Feige said it at the TCAs this week. So, that's something to look out for, too. Maybe everybody already knew that, but that was new to me, I think.

In happy news, nobody is power washing the sidewalks this morning. Hooray.

Creepy woods, a figure holding a flaming torch, Salem, Mass. 1693. Ah, Agatha's origin story. Burning at the stake. Or, maybe not. So far it's just being tied to one in the middle of a dark, creepy night.

"Agatha Harkness, are you a witch?" "Yes. I am a witch." "Yet, you have betrayed your coven." *gasp* Agatha!

She's been captured by her coven, because she stole knowledge, practiced dark magic, and other sundry evilities. But she says she's innocent, innocent, do you hear her! Oh, I guess not, "I did not break your rules, they simply bent to my power."

The lead witch is her mother, apparently. Since Agatha seems unrepentant, all the witches zap her with witchy magic or something. She screams a lot. But then her dark powers start drawing from the witches, sucking them dry. This is all very dramatic. Mom casts the final bolt, but Agatha is too powerful and she breaks free. All the other witches, except mom, have been grotesquely mummified.

Agatha swears she can be good, mom doubts. Mom zaps her again. Oh, whoops, Agatha drains mom next. She takes the broach from mom's desiccated corpse then zooms off into the sky in a burst of swirly purple magicy mist. The coven really didn't think that plan through all the way.

Present day, we're right where we left off, in Agatha's basement cavern of dark witches and nosy neighbors. Agatha is talking to her rabbit, Mr. Scratchy, and smirking at Wanda. "I know. She does look shocked to meet the real us, doesn't she?"

Wanda's eyes go glowy and Agatha laughs. "Oh, that's adorable. My thoughts are not available to you, toots."

Wanda wants to know where her children are, and Agatha mocks her about her reappearing/disappearing accent. Wanda tries to whammy her. "Huh, your magic's no good here." But Agatha's is. Agatha's no dummy, and now she's got Wanda magically trussed up in the center of the room.

"Didn't you notice? Basic protection spell? One on each wall? No? Nothing?" Hmm. Agatha, tbh, Wanda has like no idea what she's doing. So … "How do you not know the fundamentals?"

Wanda asks "Who are you?" and Agatha asks the same "Who are *you*? All those costumes and hairstyles. I was so patient, waiting for you to reveal your true self. I got close with fake Pietro — Fietro, if you will". Lol. I love her. She goes on about the magicy stuff she did to make Fietro "But you're so crippled by your own self doubt that you believed it. Oh Wanda."

"When I sensed this place, the afterglow of so many spells cast all at once, I couldn't make heads or tails of it." She shows off a mind control spell with some sort of big gross bug. Great. And has it fly at Wanda's face. Super awesome, Agatha. Oh, I see, she's going through the spells she thinks Wanda has cast, all the details, all the control of a whole town and all its storylines. Agatha's impressed and envious, "What's your secret, sister?"

Wanda says she didn't do anything and Agatha doesn't like that answer and tosses Wanda around. Now, see, Agatha, much as your coven underestimated you, I think your runic protection is only going to go so far before Wanda decides it doesn't.

"I tried to be gentle, to nudge you awake from this ridiculous fantasy. But, you'd rather fall apart than face your truth." Well, I mean. She's really been through a lot the last few weeks, Agatha. Like A LOT. Oh, and we're going to relive it. She's casting some sort of memory spell on Wanda, taking them back to the vast emptiness, endless nothing Wanda described to Fietro a couple weeks ago. You're not being very nice, Agatha.

"It's time to look at some real reruns." Wanda doesn't want to play along, but Agatha reminds her that she's got her children.

So, through the magic memory door they step, and into a tiny Sokovian apartment, with Wanda's parents. Her father apparently smuggled DVDs of "I Love Lucy" and "Bewitched". Didn't the people of Sokovia suffer enough? Well, he's got "The Addams Family", too. That's okay, I guess.

Little Pietro runs in reminding Mama and Papa that the only rule of TV night is you have to speak English. They call for Wanda and Agatha nudges her to step into the role of little Wanda. Papa says Wanda can pick what they're going to watch, but outside, there's gunfire. Except, I guess it's no big deal, Mama turns away from the window and the street battle below their apartment, while little Wanda says she wants to watch "The Dick Van Dyke Show", season 2, episode 21. Poor kid. Pietro agrees and moans, "Always sitcom, sitcom, sitcom!"

I'm waiting for the Stark Bomb to fall.

Little Wanda is far too enamored of "The Dick Van Dyke Show". Oh! There's the bomb. Pietro grabs her and they hide under the bed and they stare at the Stark Bomb. She and Pietro discuss what to do, while in the background, behind the bomb, the tv continues to play.

Little Wanda reaches out with her magic hand and then big Wanda is yanked out of the memory by Agatha, who demands to know if she stopped the bomb going off. "You used a probability hex?" Wanda says she didn't do anything, the bomb just never went off.

"So, what I see here is a baby witch, obsessed with sitcoms, and years of therapy ahead of her." lol, but harsh. "Where'd you get the big guns, Wanda?" A good question, Agatha. We never did get that answer before, really, did we? Just a sort of vague suggestion of "hydra did stuff to her and pietro maybe?".

"I don't want to go back there." "I know you don't. But it's good medicine, angel. The only way forward, is back."

Through another magic door we go.

Ha, I just paused and saw the title of the ep is "Previously On".

And into the Hydra lab. "Don't be scared, you already lived it once."

Oh, it's Loki's scepter. And the … whichever stone that is. I can't remember, totally lost track of them. Mind stone?

Wanda is in the containment unit with the scepter. The Hydra scientist wants her to do something with the scepter, and jr scientist says that no subject has survived this and lead scientist is like shut up and 'go ahead Wanda, it'll be totally fine'.

Wanda approaches the scepter and it starts to shake and the stone breaks free and flies at her, but then pauses and they stare at each other. She reaches out for it. Then the blue outer bit of the stone explodes off and underneath is the the yellow stone. Ok, yeah it is the Mind stone.

Lots of dramatic power stuff with Wanda and the stone. She sees a flying silhouetted figure in the light of the stone and then passes out. She survives! I mean, obviously. The Hydra scientists have her sent to isolation where they torture her by making her watch "The Brady Bunch". Well, no, I guess she likes it. Keep this under your hat, but if you ever want to break me, making me watch "The Brady Bunch" could probably do it.

The Hydra scientists meanwhile are trying to figure out what happened, watching the recordings over and over — they don't see the whole stone flying towards Wanda and the subsequent mind meld. She's just standing there, and then falls down.

Agatha sums this up for us "So, little Orphan Wanda got up close and personal with an Infinity Stone that amplified what otherwise would have died on vine. The broken pieces of you are adding up, buttercup. I have a theory, but I need more."

Door number three reveals her digs at the Avengers compound. She is, of course, watching TV. "Malcolm in the Middle." Well, it's better than "The Brady Bunch." The only thing I hate more than "The Brady Bunch" is "The Partridge Family."

"Where are we now?" "The Avengers compound. It was the first home Vision and I ever shared. Pietro was dead, and I was in a new country. I was all alone."

Vision enters through the wall, back when he didn't remember doors existed, and Wanda invites him to sit next to her and watch TV. "It's funny because of the grievous injury the man just suffered?" Vision doesn't get sitcoms either.

Vision sweetly tells her that if she wants to talk about what she's feeling, he'd like to know. "Should you wish to tell me. Should that be of some comfort to you." "What makes you think talking about it would bring me comfort?" "Well, I read a thing—" that's the Tony Stark part of Vision. "The only thing that would bring me comfort is seeing him again." Poor Wanda.

Vision has a little "I don't know how to respond to that" face journey that is subtle but made me laugh.

She apologizes to him. "It's just like this wave washing over me again and again." She says the wave will drown her, but Vision says it won't.

"It can't all be sorrow, can it?" IS2G if you two make me tear up this morning, I will … not do anything but be kind of annoyed. I have had the worst allergies the last couple of days, don't make me more snotty!

"I've always been alone, so I don't feel the lack. It's all I've ever known. I've never experienced loss, because I've never had a loved one to lose. What is grief, if not love persevering?" Damn you, Vision. At least I have a new box of tissues.

He sees something funny on the telly and laughs then apologizes. She laughs with him, though. "No, it was funny." They smile at each other, cutely awkward.

Even Agatha wipes at the corner of one eye. Though it could be annoyance. Hard to tell.

"So to recap: parents dead, brother dead, Vision dead." You're still a very mean person, Agatha. "What happened when he wasn't there to pull you back from the darkness, Wanda?"

Wanda doesn't want to play this game anymore. Agatha insists. "Tell me how you did it? Vision was gone, but you wanted him back."

Wanda sort of wakes up, "I wanted him back." Door number four takes us to SWORD's ridiculous and massive lobby. Really, what is with the stupidly enormous monitors hovering over the whole absurd place? So stupid. Nobody wants to watch the news that badly or bigly.

Wanda is walking through the lobby — SWORD's security sucks — but contrary to Acting Director Dick's version of the story, Wanda is politely asking the security guy where Vision is. And not throwing red woo-woos or anything. "Please, please. When I came back, he was gone. His body. And I know he's here. He deserves a funeral, at least. I deserve it."

Speaking of AD Dick. He seems to be watching this on the security feed, he calls the security desk and talks to the guard. Wanda spots the camera. But, security guy waves her through, gives her directions to wherever.

Security guy gets up to buzz Wanda in, but she says she's got it, and she opens the door herself. The footage AD Dick used to make her look like a terrorist. I mean, we knew he was a dick, so this is no surprise, but still. Jimmy! Arrest that asshole for aggravated assholery and general shadiness!

Anyway, Wanda's striding down hallways and as she comes even to the Director's door, the security light goes green and beeps so she goes into his office.

There’s polite introductions and whatever.

"I understand you're here to see the Vision. To recover his body." "Well, I'm his next of kin." "I understand." You're a lying sleazy snake who's been doing shady things with Vision's body. "I'd like to show you something?" "And then you'll give him to me?" No, because he's a scumbag.

He shows her a lab, she's confused, he says it's what she asked to see. And down in the lab are technicians taking Vision's body apart. Obviously, this is horrifying to her. What did Hayward expect to get from showing Wanda that? Like she'd be all "oh, hmm, how fascinating. Look, he's made of wires and such. By all means, cut my boyfriend's robot head off. For science"?

"What are you doing to him?" "We're dismantling the most sophisticated sentient weapon ever made." I think you're a liar pants, Dick. "It's our legal and ethical obligation."

"I just want to bury him. It's all I want." "Are you sure?" "Excuse me?" "Not everyone has the kind of power that could bring their soulmate back online — forgive me — back to life." You are such a sleaze, Dick. They can't get Vision to work again, so why not emotionally manipulate the grieving woman to do it for you. Gross. DIAF Dick.

"No, I can't do that. That's not why I'm here." "Okay, I can't allow you to take three billion dollars worth of vibranium just to put it in the ground." He's the worst. "The best I can do is let you say goodbye to him here."

"He's all I have." "Well, that's just it, Wanda; he isn't yours." Somebody needs to squash this guy like a bug. I don't care who. Wanda, obviously, deserves the honor most, but let her get on with her life, I say. Monica's probably the next best for sure. SOMEBODY THOUGH! Hand Darcy a wrench, she'll take care of it.

Where were we … Oh, Wanda's doing the head tilt of impending magical ass-kickery. She busts through the glass, drops down to the floor of the lab, and a security team runs out to point their guns at her. AD Dick tells them to fall back. Why, his plan's working just perfectly, no need to interfere with the woman he’s making suffer extra.

Wanda walks around Vision's body to his head. And she puts her hand over the giant hole where Thanos ripped out the mind stone. "I can't feel you." Every bit of this, for me, takes AD Dick from a generic loathsome character, to somebody actually disgusting. Do not like.

Wanda can't feel Vision at all, and she walks away, out of the room, out of the SWORD building, leaving the body behind. THIS IS VERY SAD, MARVEL.

She gets into her car, and in the passenger seat is an open envelope, like for a greeting card or something. And off she goes to Westview, New Jersey. A down-on-its-luck small town, full of sad looking people and dirty streets.

She pulls into the driveway of a property that's overgrown, with just a foundation, no house.

Damn you show. It wasn't an envelope, it was a real estate deed with a plan of the property with a red heart drawn on it, and the words "to grow old in. v." inside. What did Wanda do to deserve this? I mean, fine, she was in Hydra for like a minute, but she wasn't a true believer or anything, and she redeemed herself. Come on. Stupid Marvel, making all the things hurt.

She's crying, you're crying, I'm crying, everybody's crying, as she walks into the foundation of the home that never was. And then it all just comes pouring out of her in a great burst of red light and grief and power. Creating the sitcom world around her and swallowing Westview. Poor Wanda.

There. There's your answer, Agatha. Are you happy, you big meanie? Go turn AD Dick into a toad, or something, would you?

Hm, from her power, the yellow light of the mind stone starts to separate out, from back when she and it sort of had their moment in the Hydra lab, and out of that Vision is recreated or reborn or reconstituted or … whatever. Then they're in the black and white world of the first ep, and everything is perfect. Damn you, Marvel.

Real world Wanda looks up from where she's standing behind B&W Wanda and Vision and sees it's all just a TV show set. Agatha is in the audience, clapping. She vanishes and Wanda can hear Billy and Tommy screaming for her. She runs off set and into her front yard.

Out on the street, Agatha has the boys on magic leashes.

Agatha says she knows what Wanda is and that "You have no idea how dangerous you are." Well, keep holding her boys with magic ropes around their necks and we'll all find out. Agatha's gone full witchy here, she looks great.

"You're supposed to be a myth. A being capable of spontaneous creation. Here you are, using it to make breakfast for dinner." lol. Hey! I was actually thinking last night that I hadn't made waffles in a while. Breakfast for dinner is its own kind of magic, Agatha. (note to self: check we have syrup)

Wanda is pretty done with Agatha. She wants the boys released.

"Oh yes, your children. Vision. This whole little life you've made; this is chaos magic, Wanda. And that makes you … The Scarlet Witch!" DUN DUN DUN! CREDITS! !!!!

Well that was all very dramatic and sad. A really good episode, really good. Damn you, Marvel. Kathryn Hahn is great, absolutely love her.

Yes, there's a mid-credits scene, btw. F'in AD Dick, for what it's worth, finally putting his Genius Master Plan into action. What a dick. The biggest sack of tiny dicks you ever saw. No really, I hate this guy. I hope Wanda tears him a hundred new ones. Then sets what's left on fire. With her mind.

Also, he’s dumb. He can’t possibly think he can contain Wanda when she gets a look at his Genius Master Plan, can he? Is he that dumb? Probably, but couldn’t one of his little minions go “um, sir, she did almost defeat Thanos. I suspect this may end catastrophically for us.”

Do you suppose Darcy’s still stuck in traffic?

OH NO! There’s only one more episode left. I’m sad about that. This has turned out really quite good. Well done, show. Well done.

#wandavision #wandavision spoilers #wandavision liveblog

29 notes · View notes

emblemxeno · 4 years

Note

Interesting to see some semblance of Soleil discourse again. I hated her when i played fates, and was genuinly surprised that people really loved her. Do you think a lot of her shittier aspects were from Fates' shoddy translation, or was she always sort of bad?

Sorry for this taking so long! I figured I might as well make this a sort of definitive post about Soleil since I talk about her a lot, so I put some more research and effort into it than I initially planned.

Soleil’s writing does have a lot of differences between the Japanese version and localization, but I have many, many issues with both.

Japanese Soleil

Soleil in the Japanese version of Fates is, to put it simply, a train wreck. As we know, her defining trait is her love of girls. However, with Soleil it goes past attraction and flirting into outright predatory behavior.

In many of her Japanese supports, Soleil creeps around girls, be it generic girls off-screen, or her female support partners. She hits on her mother in their support, she plans to sneak behind girls and embrace them out of nowhere in her support with Ignatius, and she harasses Ophelia and planned to get a better look at the latter’s figure in the tents when they switched bodies.

But the absolute worst was her Japanese support with Forrest.

Basically, she’s chasing Forrest around because she’s convinced he’s a girl, despite him telling her over and over that he isn’t. Soleil is extra creepy in this one, saying things like “I can’t hold myself back anymore” and “I won’t do anything bad, so just give in.” Forrest goes so far as to even compare her to a wild animal stalking its prey.

Forrest then tells Soleil once again that he’s a boy, and what does she do? She asks him to prove it by getting naked and bathing with her. Forrest, of course, refuses again. Soleil then finds out from others around camp that Forrest was telling the truth; but she still can’t keep her urges down and keeps making unwanted advances and touches towards him.

That entire support is extreme sexual harassment. It is one of the worst supports I have ever read, especially since it’s played for laughs and it can later advance into an actual relationship between them. Treehouse did realize how bad this support was, and changed it from the ground up into something completely different, which is one of the very few things I will thank them for.

Now, localized Soleil is another beast entirely. Before going into my issues with her localized version, I’ll explain the context behind her trope.

A History Lesson

Soleil’s character at its core is based on the Class S trope. Class S is a Japanese term describing romantic friendships between girls. It’s origin and popularity is owed to things like western women’s literature (such as Little Women) being translated for Japanese audiences back in the early 20th century and the all-women Takarazuka Revue theater being established; these helped cultivate feelings of sisterhood and a sense of romance for young female audiences, especially since most schools at the time in Japane kept boys and girls separate. While there was a decline in the Class S genre after Japanese schools became more co-ed, it has made a resurgence in popularity ever since the late 90′s with light novels like Maria-sama ga Miteru.

Class S had a rather big impact on Japanese society, where it was actually expected to happen and treated as something wonderful for these kinds of close friendships to develop between young girls.

However. These aren’t treated as real romantic relationships. They’re seen as nothing more than a phase. After adolescence, girls are expected to ‘mature’ or ‘graduate’ in a sense, into a real relationship with a man. To still have Class S relationships with other girls when you’re supposed to be in a “real” relationship is seen as a sign of immaturity.

Soleil Herself

So what does this mean with Soleil? Lots of her supports in Japanese have other characters being bewildered or even annoyed by her continued love for girls, because “she’s technically an adult now, shouldn’t she have grown out of that phase?”

Shigure gets surprised that she’s trying to learn how to sing to impress girls. F!Corrin wonders why she won’t give up her mindset already. Soleil gets jealous of Asugi’s popularity with girls and childishly tries to imitate him. Sophie says she doesn’t have time for Soleil’s antics because the former is trying to be a mature, devoted knight. Ophelia is frustrated that they can’t be “normal” friends instead of Soleil chasing her around and proclaiming her love.

They treat her obsession/love for girls as something childish for an adult woman like her to still have, much like Japanese society does. Soleil is Class S.

Soleil does actually get a chance to technically grow out of this phase, much like adult women are expected to. She ‘graduates’ into adulthood once she becomes romantically involved with her male romance options in the Japanese version; a “real” relationship.

As a gay man, you can probably guess how I feel about this trope. While it has had impact on helping Japan ease up on its more conservative beliefs and lots of Class S media has been created by actual queer women (like Nobuko Yoshiya), it’s still not a great feeling when same sex relationships are basically treated as not real or just a phase in someone’s life. It sucks, especially when I think the Japanese Rhajat/F!Corrin support is one of best in Fates. But enough about me, what does this have to do with localized Soleil?

Where The Localization Fumbled

Since she was already getting her fair share of controversy thanks to the many incorrect reports of conversion therapy during her support with M!Corrin, Treehouse decided to go the whole mile and rewrite some aspects of her character. This included removing the Class S aspect of her, and adding in a line from Laslow (as well as her roster description) that basically confirms she’s bisexual.

Except... they messed it up. They made her apparently bisexual, but they removed the romantic aspect of almost all of her S supports, all of which are dudes. Instead, most of her S supports result in promises of friendship or partnership of some kind. The only romantic S supports she has in the localization are with M!Corrin because Avatar privilege, and Forrest, which can still kind of be taken as platonic.

This doesn’t make sense. Why go out of your way to make Soleil bisexual, but remove her romantic supports with dudes? Her wlw side isn’t suddenly erased if she were to marry a dude, what’s the deal here? Did two different people have a hand in this and just didn’t communicate? Did one intend to make her a lesbian and the other wanted her to be bi?

This is a huge inconsistency and fumble on Treehouse’s part, one of their biggest. Hell, besides that, they didn’t even remove all of her creepy aspects either; she still creeps on girls in her Ignatius support (she now plans to pinch them instead of embrace them from behind), and while her support with Ophelia was toned down, it still isn’t great. Why go so halfway on this, especially since she’s the most controversial character in the game?

Conclusion & Overview

So yeah, those are my thoughts about Soleil. Her Japanese characterization is a predatory mess and based on a trope which I am not fond of whatsoever, while her localized characterization is only somewhat better as a person and is plagued by a whole slew of new writing problems because her bisexuality just wasn’t done correctly by Treehouse.

Which honestly? It makes me kind of sad. Soleil has a lot of good things about her. I like her shamelessness, her confidence. Her shyness is basically an inverse of Olivia’s, where the latter is shy all the time except when dancing whereas Soleil is only shy and insecure when dancing; it’s a neat full circle for the entire family line. She has a couple of great supports too, like with Laslow and Kiragi. Her design is adorable, she’s a good unit, female mercenaries are always a plus, and her new voice actress in Heroes is one of my favorites.

It’s just everything else is... bleh.

I don’t dislike her as much as I did a few months ago, because looking over her supports again endeared her to me a little, but unfortunately she still has too many things about her that I hate for me to say anything better than that.

#fire emblem #fire emblem fates #fire emblem if #fe14 #the soleil chronicles #queer characters #lgbtq characters #gay characters #writing

60 notes · View notes

emma-nation · 3 years

Text

Ticker Than Water - Bloodbound AU (Chapter 4)

Summary: When Amy changes the course of the events at the Opera House, she could never imagine the consequences she would have to face. After being by Rheya’s side for five years, she’s finally ready to be reunited with her friends and find a manner to defeat her. But when the time comes, what will prevail? Her love for Kamilah Sayeed and her friends or her family ties with the First Vampire?

Genre: Angst, Drama, Romance

Tag List: @slytherinthoughts7, @lightning-fury, @spacecarrousel, @gavryllo, @kamilah-the-bloodqueen, @whoinvitedalx, @sheyah, @imnotdonewiththeelementalists, @belvoiresqueenbee, @morvengarde, @tephy24, @iam-the-fuckin-queen, @scorpichoices, @leavemeandmyshipsalone, @jen825, @andreear17, @justejuste727, @evexofxtime, @zoe6111, @shanuuh, @ilovekamilahsayeed, @kenna-and-val-are-my-queens, @fal-carrington, @spookyjellyfishlove, @samgtt700, @just-thinking-loudly, @martachm, @masterofbluff, @rice-wifee, @lifeisadance96, @serafinedupontownsme, @hellyeah90sbaby

4 years ago - Japan

The first signs of Winter started showing on the city outside. Kamilah wondered what she'd be doing if she was still living in New York. Working, perhaps. And also planning the next Dark Solstice.

The necklace. She didn't have time to retrieve it from the secret drawer in her office when they ran away. It would be her only memory from something that didn't exist anymore - her relationship with Amy.

"I did it," the penthouse door opened in a slam, making Lily completely lose focus on her video game or Jax stop sharpening his katana. Adrian seemed to be in ecstasy. "I... I managed to grow a seedling from the sample we obtained from the Tree Of Death. This could stop Rheya for good."

"How great," Jax replied with some sarcasm. The last few months turned him into a version of his late master, Takeshi. "And what about the others? Also, how long is it going to take?"

The others. Kamilah's stomach flipped. Amy was one of them, along with Rheya's husband and daughter. And she was so strong as the First Vampire herself.

"It's a start, Jax," Lily added. "It'll be easier to take her down once she becomes a Feral."

"Fine, but I'd like to do the honors."

"Kamilah?" Adrian approached, touching her shoulder briefly. "Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes," Kamilah told. She was too invested in her own thoughts, reflecting about the part where she'd have to face Amy again. What if they had to kill her? Would she be able to do that? "We will wait. When the time comes, we'll fight again."

Lily suggested a celebration, Jax agreed and so did Adrian. Since their arrival, they barely left that penthouse. Except for the occasions where they attended Kano's training sessions. The psychic vampire taught them how to guard their minds from Rheya. And also Amy.

"You can go. I'll stay here."

"Come on, Kamilah," Lily started dragging her to the door. "You never say no to booze."

"I'm saying this time."

"Lily is right," Adrian said. "You are coming with us. It'll be a good distraction."

"Yeah," Jax agreed. "We must stick together. Remember?"

This manner, the three younger vampires managed to make Kamilah to go out for the first time in months. Still a little insecure about their safety, they decided to visit The Five's nightclub. In the end, it was not terrible. Jax and Akeyo engaged in a singing competition, while Lily attempted to copy The Evolved's robotic dance moves. The female vampire let out a small laugh.

"Finally," Aiko slowly approached her. "Acceptance is the last stage of grief."

"I guess so," Kamilah replied in a dry tone.

"She's not coming back. She made a choice."

"I know."

The reminder of that fact hit Kamilah's heart like applying salt in an open wound. One year had passed. Amy was still doing atrocities together with Rheya. She showed no signs of regret or mercy. Not even a trace of the old Amy still existed in her eyes. The powers had changed her completely.

"I need another shot," she ordered to the bartender. Then she looked at Aiko, who observed her with the same old and seductive smirk. "Two shots actually."

----------

A blow from one of the mythological creatures that surrounded Amy in the mindscape forest threw her hard against a tree. Though the fight was happening inside her mind, the pain felt extremely real, as if her skull had been fractured.

"Ouch..." she moaned in pain. "Can't... back... down..."

A fire blast started to form in the center of her palm. If she could maintain the focus, it should be enough to stop the creature that was about to strike again.

"Ha!" Amy released the fire ball, that disappeared mid-air. "Fuck!" She screamed, punching the floor repeatedly. Noticing her frustration, Kano pulled her back to reality.

"There's something wrong," he spoke in all his wisdom of a 500 years old man, in a 5 years old body.

"Not even when I'm mad - and trust me, I'm really mad - I can make this work."

"You won't be able to do this moved only by anger. You need focus and discipline."

"Kano," Amy squeezed the water bottle she held, "we've been training for hours. I can't conjure one decent blast. I'm focused, I'm doing all the meditation exercises you taught me... I just can't. Maybe she drained my powers while I slept."

"It's not that," Kano handed her another water bottle, that she drank all in one sip. "There's something blocking you from reaching your potential."

"What could it be?"

He forced her to face all the nastiest skeletons in her closet for a second time that day. Starting by the childhood trauma caused by her mother's behavior. Though Amy knew the reason behind her rage outbursts, the marks would always be there.

The child version of herself was drawing in the kitchen when her mother entered, completely disturbed.

"Mommy!" She called. "Look what I've made for you."

"Nice," the woman barely looked. She was too busy inspecting the cabinets for her painkillers. "Where are them?"

She swallowed a couple of pills and little Amy's heart filled with hope that her mother would finally be able to give her some attention and love.

"Can we play teacups now? I missed you. You spend the whole day in the bedroom."

"Can't you see it, Amy?" The woman yelled at the child. "I am sick! Why can you just respect me? Why can you just be quiet, huh?!"

As she slammed the bedroom door, the little sat down on the floor breaking into tears.

"What did I do wrong?" She asked herself.

"Nothing," adult Amy sighed at the scene. "You did nothing wrong."

Then they moved to the Opera House. What else could be there to be seen? Amy did both of her crucial decisions - the one where she decided to tempt the fate and avoid the death of one of her friends, becoming a monster in consequence. And the one where she took the dagger. That was the most painful to watch. She had already seen Lily dying in her arms, as Kamilah plunged a stake in her heart to prevent her from becoming a Feral. She also saw Jax, sacrificing himself to die as the warrior he was, not as a disgusting rotting creature.

This time though, it was Adrian who took the fall to save her life...

"Not her! Never her!"

"Adrian!" The past version of herself screamed, kneeling down on the floor near the male vampire. "W-Why did you do this? Y-You didn't have to..."

"Amy..." he clutched the injury in his abdomen. His skin was already acquiring a grey coloration. "I had to. I was the one to bring you to this world in first place. I swore to protect you."

"But..."

"Shhhh, it's okay. I've had a long and accomplished life. I made a lot of mistakes too and somehow I think this how I must pay for them. I... I'm ready to be reunited with Eleanor and Charles."

She glanced at the rest of the group. Lily was sobbing uncontrollably. Jax punched the wall in anger and denial. Kamilah was also kneeled by Adrian's side. She was trying hard to prevent the tears from falling.

"And Amy?" Adrian said, before handing her a stake. "Take care of Kamilah. She needs you."

"No!" Both versions of herself screamed at the same time, as Adrian forced her hand to stake his heart. She collapsed to the floor before they moved to the next memory.

She and Rheya were terrorizing some citizens in New York City. Those who still refused to bend to their orders and obey their every command.

"I condemn you to be my prisoners," Rheya smiled deviously, staring at the small group of people restrained inside a TV station. They secretly planned to leak information about the Apostolous family to other states, including their ability of controlling and manipulating minds. "You can be my servants after all. You could entertain me, feed me... or even fight for me."

Amy emerged from a door in the back. Her hair was a mess and she had bags under her eyes. She was in a terrible mood, what lead her to slowly approach and start to snap the neck of each one of the victims. One by one.

"Foolish creature! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Rheya asked, visibly annoyed. "I wasn't going to kill them yet, they could be useful to my purposes."

"Getting things done faster," Amy told. "I'm starving, I'm tired. I can't wait to get home and feed."

"Of course, you spent the whole night out with Serafine, going to clubs and using your psychic powers for recreational purposes. I told you I needed you in shape this morning. You disappoint me."

"I'm sorry, Rheya. You were going to kill them anyways. They're all useless insects, isn't it what you always say?"

"You're right," the First Vampire approached and touched her chest using her indicator finger. "But I give the orders here. We may have the same blood, the same powers powers but I'm in charge. Do you understand?"

Amy was back to the same mindscape as earlier, surrounded by creatures in a forest. She felt angry at herself, yet she accepted it. She embraced the fact she was weak to resist the darkness inside her. It was part of who she had became. And now she wanted to change and make things right.

"I can do this," she closed her eyes, focusing on conjuring a psychic wave strong enough to push the horde of monsters away from her. When she opened them, ready to hit them... nothing happened.

"What?!" She yelled, back at Kano's office. "This time I did it. I faced the Opera memory and how things should have went. I embraced the fact I did horrible things too."

"There must be something else. Something you're refusing to face and let go."

Amy had no idea what it could be. At Kano's suggestion, they ended the training session for the day and she went back to the hotel to rest and reflect on what could be blocking her powers. After a long bath, she stared at the bed. The same bed she and Kamilah shared an intimate moment in the previous night, before she told her about her engagement with Aiko.

She finally turned on her phone. Iola had been trying to reach her all day.

"You need to return home, immediately. She has lost her mind."

"What is it this time?" Amy asked, getting dressed to meet Lily at the penthouse she lived with the rest of the group.

"She wants to-"

"Amy?!" Rheya seemed to have taken the phone from her daughter's hands. "I wanted to speak to you, darling. Are you finished with The Five yet? I need you to come home."

"Why?"

"I've signed a contract with a TV channel. Next week they'll begin to film our own reality show: 'The Apostolous'. Isn't it wonderful?"

No. It wasn't. Together with her insane ancestor and her family, Amy would be locked in the mansion with Priya, Serafine and Dracula, while every detail their daily routine was registered by the cameras and shown on television to the whole world.

"Rheya..." Amy sighed, thinking of some excuse. "Why don't you wait a few more days? I mean, a party with your new allies would be a great start for the reality show. Wouldn't it?"

"You're right," the First Vampire answered after a pause. "I don't know when you've gotten so smart, but you're having some good ideas lately. Anyways, I must start planning our party then. Talk to you later, darling."

Only a lot of alcohol could make Amy relax with all the latest news. When she arrived, Lily was still the only one in the penthouse. Jax, Adrian and Kamilah were doing some personal businesses.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Amy asked, taking a sip directly from the bottle of sake before aiming her next shot at the pool game.

"I was going to," Lily told, observing as she sank three balls in a row. "I couldn't imagine Kamilah would go straight to your bed in the very first night."

As Lily finished her own turn, Amy noticed she was about to win the game. However, she would never be able to make the right move with that one question bothering her mind.

"Does she love her? Aiko?"

"Do you want the honest truth? No, she doesn't. She only got in that sudden relationship with her to forget you. And if you ask me, I bet Aiko is forcing her to get married."

A hint of a smile appeared on the corners of Amy's mouth. She still had a chance. With the right shot, she could win Kamilah's heart back.

"I win," she grinned as she cued the last ball into the pocket.

"Best of three?" Lily asked, after taking a sip of the sake. "So, now tell me about Rheya going all Kardashian."

Amy rolled her eyes in annoyance. She was about to start talking about Rheya's reality show when the penthouse's door opened, making her heart speed up inside her chest.

"Oh," for her disappointment, it wasn't Kamilah. "Hey, Jax."

"Hello, Lily and..." he glared in her direction, clearly uncomfortable with her presence. "You."

"Jax, come here," Lily called, assuming some alcohol and games would be able to seal the peace between them. "Amy was about to tell me about Rheya's latest bullshit."

"Later, Lil. I gotta... I gotta take a shower. I was training with Akeyo all day."

As soon as he left to the bedroom, Amy sighed:

"He'll never forgive me."

Kamilah arrived right after she finished her sentence. She didn't say a word, she walked directly to the bar, serving herself some expensive whiskey.

"We're not allowed to bring visitors," she scolded Lily. "After five years you should know that."

"I asked Adrian first," Amy told in her defense. "He said I could..."

"Oh, Amy. Congratulations on your new show. It's all over the internet. You must be loving the attention, aren't you?"

"Thank you. By the way, for someone who doesn't care care you're way too updated about my life."

There was a heavy tension between them. Years of unresolved feelings and unsaid words were affecting the whole environment surrounding them, like an earthquake.

"I-I..." Noticing that, Lily started walking away too. "You two must have a lot to talk about. I'll be in my bedroom."

Amy still tried to prevent Lily from leaving, but it was useless. She was alone and under Kamilah's hard cold gaze.

"You shouldn't be here," the female vampire said once again.

"Why?" Amy decided to confront her. "My presence is bothering you?"

"Not really, but it put us at risk. She could come here any second searching for her spawn."

"She won't. Besides, I can fight her."

"Oh really? How's the training going by the way?"

"Good," Amy lied. "I'm... I'm finding myself. Finding a balance between my powers and the darkness they can bring."

As if she still could read her, Kamilah raised an eyebrow and opened a small sadistic smile. Was it so obvious she was failing miserably? Did Kano tell the others how poorly the training session had gone? She swallowed dry.

"About yesterday..." Amy opened her mouth to speak, changing the subject. She had to know how Kamilah felt about the other night.

"Nothing happened yesterday," Kamilah nodded.

Before she could speak again, Adrian emerged from the elevator.

"Amy, good to see you here," he wanted to show her something in a secret Raines Corporation HQ he had built. "Come with me."

She gave Kamilah one last look. It wasn't over. She wasn't going to give up and pretend nothing happened between them. She wasn't going to act like the feelings weren't still there, alive and strong as ever.

"What?" Adrian asked with a smile during their way to the building.

"Nothing," Amy smiled back. She had never been so happy to see him. That vision had struck her really hard. "I'm just glad you still trust me."

The building was highly secured. Adrian guided her to the laboratory in the basement. Some scientists were still working late night, on many different projects.

"Only a few people know about our secret weapon," Adrian told while he typed a password on a keypad, opening a heavy metal door. "Only us and The Five. After all, anyone else could have their minds accessed by Rheya."

After walking through a long corridor, they stopped in front of a glass. Behind it, Amy spotted a small growing tree.

"Is it..."

"The Tree Of Death. I managed to obtain a sample and grow a seedling from it. It's still small and young, its sap is not so poisonous. It won't cause much harm yet."

After Demetrius was brought back to life, the Tree Of Death and the island ceased to exist. With that, there was nothing that could stop Rheya. Until now.

"Adrian..." Amy remembered testing her powers, or when Rheya used to grow different plants and flowers in the backyard, according to the occasions. "I can make it grow faster with my powers."

#bloodbound #kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #rheya apostolous #bloodbound fanfiction #playchoices #choices stories you play #thicker than water

42 notes · View notes

oureuphoria · 4 years

Text

Worst of You - JJK Final

You meet him under horrible circumstances but everything feels perfect when you’re with him. Too bad you have a bitch of a best friend, anxiety and an inability to learn from your mistakes which cripples your chances to be with the man of your literal dreams. He, however, is a police officer with years worth of built-up turmoil and an inability to make attachments. Or “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.” “Cool, I’ll let everyone know you’re moving in then.”

Genre: fluff, angst, comedy

Pairing: officer!jungkook X collegestudent!reader

Word count: 2,834

Warnings: None but let me know if you find me.

Note: I’m so sorry for the really late update BUT I had to finish my paper first! Wow, let me just say I am very, very, thankful to have such amazing, wonderful people who read this fic and I love each and every single one of you so so so much. Thank you for reading and thank you for allowing me to share this with you. This is just the beginning and I have many ideas that are yet to hit paper so this will not be goodbye. Once again, thank you to everyone for reading and I love you all!

| 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 |

Jungkook promised himself he wouldn’t get sad over you. He tried so hard to stop himself from getting attached and yet here he was, 2 weeks later, unable to focus on a single thing at work. Jungkook spent his entire Saturday moping around his apartment, he recalled how he used to spend Saturday nights, clubbing and one-night-stands, but now none of that appealed to him. You had ruined Jungkook, now he couldn’t even look at a girl the way he used to because he always thought of you instead. On Sunday he was invited out with his brother’s family, his niece and nephew were constantly asking about you and Jungkook couldn’t help but grow sadder each time. He didn’t know why he missed you, or how he even could miss you when he swore to himself he wasn’t attached. It was a Monday and Jungkook was at work again, staring at the same paper for 20 minutes with an empty head. Mel approached him with a coffee. “What’s wrong?” Jungkook gratefully took the cup from her hand as she sat on the chair in front of his desk, where you used to sit. Jungkook scolded himself mentally for thinking of you but no matter how many times he did it, his mind would come back to you.

Mel felt bad for what she did, it was eating her alive and yet she knew if she told him he’d never forgiven her, especially since he lost Y/N. She was jealous, unaware of the fact that her love for him wasn’t as platonic as she thought it was. It never bothered her before because he was alone but when he wasn’t, all her emotions came cascading upon her as she let her jealousy overrule her rationality. Jealousy was a horrible emotion that caused people to do reckless things, Jungkook knew it, Mel knew it and back at your dorm, you knew it too.

“I’m so stupid! I screwed it all up just because I’m an insecure, jealous little bitch!” You were angrily throwing pillows around as you ranted to Jimin who just came into your room to borrow your laptop charger. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m sure if you apologize he will understand.” You fell back onto your bed, sighing. “I tried. I called, I messaged, I even went to the station but the receptionist said he didn’t want to see me.” He softly stroked your head as you pouted at the ceiling, he was grateful you stopped crying but your anger was more annoying than your tears. “Make a grand gesture or something, like they do in the movies. You know, with the whole rocks on windows thing and the poetic love letters.” You grabbed one of the pillows you haphazardly threw and aimed it at him. “Except, I’m not 15, this isn’t a movie and he lives in a penthouse; I can’t throw rocks that far up, Jimin!” He threw the pillow back at you and soon enough it became a pillow war.

“Wait!” Jimin’s hand stopped midway through the air. “I have an idea!” Jimin looked at you weirdly but put the pillow down to listen. “What if I reverse ‘10 Things I Hate About You’ and write a letter about all the reasons he should forgive me?” Jimin looked at you blankly, not catching on. “Writing on paper is literally the only thing I’m good at, Jimin!” He smiled before rushing you to get ready while he left the room. Once Jimin was outside, he silently prayed that the letter would work, post-break-up Y/N was the worst Y/N.

“I know he doesn’t want to see me but could you just give this to him-” “Y/N!” Mel’s voice startled you, causing you to drop the letter. You quickly picked it up though in the process you gave yourself a paper cut. Perhaps it shouldn’t have been 4 pages long. “Y/N, I have to apologize about something.” Mel had explained that she had lied to you, and even went further to explain everything you were suspicious about with Jungkook, even covering his fears about his mother. You spoke for about 20 minutes before she told you he was upstairs, at his desk, on his lunch break. Although what she had told you was a lot to take in, you found that the only thing you could think about then was apologizing to Jungkook. You took the letter and zoomed upstairs with Mel’s permission.

The second Jungkook saw you he felt his eyes poke out of his head. He wasn’t expecting to see you, especially not with a huge smile on your face.

“Before you yell at me and tell me to leave, let me explain. Throughout my entire life, the only safe place I had was my mind and I’ve grown to live in it sometimes and despite my unhealthy attachment to it, it hates me. I overthink a lot and whenever I do my mind runs off to the worst possible scenario and my mind turns into pure chaos. It’s not an excuse because it doesn’t justify me accusing you of something you didn’t do and I’m sorry that I didn’t come to you first but you have to know it wasn’t because I didn’t want to be with you. I understand if you don’t want to forgive me but you must accept this apology letter as a sign of my extreme remorse. It contains all the reasons why I believe you should forgive me because I am very, very bad at talking-” before you could finish your rambling, Jungkook interrupted you.

“Y/N, I’m busy, I don’t have time to read your letter right now.” Your smile fell, but you were persistent. “It’s okay I can read it out to you!” He shook his head, picking up the remains of his lunch and throwing it into his bin. You began reading it but he stopped you again “You should go.” You frowned, getting upset because this wasn’t going to plan and you didn’t have a plan B. “But I still have 4 pages left…” You looked like you were going to cry and Jungkook wasn’t sure he could handle it before anything else happened though, Mel interrupted.

“I lied to Y/N.” You looked up at her, shocked and confused because you could almost swear she wasn’t standing there before. “I lied to her about where you were that Friday, that’s why she thought you were cheating.” Jungkook’s face looked mad but his eyes looked hurt. He was betrayed by the one person he thought he could trust, and at that moment, he couldn’t bear to look at either of you. He ignored her confession, stood up and went on his way. “Wales. Hurry up, we have shit to do.” The man quickly picked up racing after he and Mel winced at the sight. “Poor Wales, he’s going to have to deal with the short end of the stick.” Your eyes went to her face, she wasn’t worried at all. “Aren’t you worried he won’t forgive you?” She smiled down at you before saying something that left you perplexed. “I hope he doesn’t.” She walked off right after leaving you with nothing but your racing mind. You grabbed a post-it-note off his table and wrote in all caps ‘PLEASE READ!!’ With a smiley face that followed, you stuck it onto the letter and left it on his desk.

Jungkook said he wasn’t going to read it, he swore to himself he wouldn’t but how could he not when the note you left alone had him missing you like crazy. Fuck it. He thought, picking up the letter angrily. Each and every word made him miss you more and it wasn’t until he read the very last reason you’d written that he realized he needed to see you. He got up quickly, it was already after hours and now that he was corporal he could basically dismiss himself. He said his farewells to the chief and drove to you as fast as (legally) possible. He didn’t go into your dorm building, he parked in front of it and leaned on his car staring at the establishment with an overactive mind. What if you didn’t want to see him? Then what? Jungkook messaged you to go outside and you read it instantly, after a couple of minutes he was worried you weren’t going to come.

Eventually, your small frame squeezed through the tiny opening of the door you managed to open, he remembered you always complaining about how the door was too heavy. “Did you read it?” He smiled at how cute you were, your optimistic eyes clearly hoped for a happy ending. He nodded and the smile you had been fighting back was beaming on your face. “Y/N, I hated it.” Your smile dropped, your face significantly sadder. “Why? Was there a typo? I was rushing so-” “You got the last reason wrong.” You furrowed your eyebrows, you remember faintly that the last reason had simply been you confessing your love to him, you didn’t understand what was wrong.

Jungkook was fishing through the pockets of his coat. “You wrote ‘Reason number 10: I love you. I know you’ve heard me say it before and I know you’re not quite there but I feel like it is a pivotal reason because I think you’re unaware of just how much I love you. P.S. it’s a lot.’ You nodded in reply, you had indeed written that but you weren’t sure what was wrong with it. “Y/N, you wrote that I didn’t love you but you are so terribly wrong.” You felt as if your heart had stopped beating and you were impatiently waiting for him to spit it out. “I love you, Y/N. I don’t know why but from that very first interrogation, I knew I had to get to know you. I’m not sure how I fell in love with you. Maybe it was your weird obsession with those cheese balls from the café that you stared at more than you ate, or your clumsiness that had you adorably tripping all the time, or how excited you got over a good report grade, or your kind, sweet, heart that forgives more than it should. You forgave me every time I screwed up and yet you didn’t expect anything from me. It’s been rough and we’ve both screwed up a lot, although I will admit it was mostly me, I realized that I would much rather exhaust myself fighting for you than rest with someone else.”

“That’s not fair!” Your voice broke in the middle of the sentence because you had started crying. Jungkook was quick to pull you into a hug. “No, baby, don’t cry. What’s not fair?” You spoke into his chest and although it was muffled it was still coherent. “How are you so good at talking?” He let out a chuckle but stopped laughing when you forced yourself out of his arms and started rubbing your cheek. “What’s wrong?” “Your vest hurt my face.” He apologized through laughter which you found mocking and he roughly pinched the cheek you were trying to soothe and you angrily slapped his hand away. “I missed you, princess.” “Well, I miss not having sore cheeks, you bully!” You were genuinely mad because the man you loved just told you he loved you back and all you could think about was how much your cheek hurt.

“But you promised!” You whined while pulling his unresponsive body back and forth. “Y/N, no.” He pulled you off of him out of annoyance but you couldn’t back down, not with so much at stake. “You promised that if I didn’t rant to you about the shows I was watching for a whole month then you would watch The Office with me!” Jungkook slowly put his laptop down on the coffee table and turned to you, holding both of your hands in his. “Baby, this may come as a shock to you but, I lied.” You sighed in frustration before angrily storming off to your room. Jungkook picked up his laptop to continuing working. Soon after he began to grow afraid of the fact that you may actually be mad at him so he put his laptop back onto the coffee table and slowly made his way to his room, he opened the door ever so slowly and peaked in to see you wrapped up in a blanket, frowning as you watched The Office on your TV.

Jungkook smiled and opened the door completely, violently unwrapping you from your self induced blanket burrito causing you to roll out off of the bed. “Oh shit, sorry.” You didn’t say a word, still evidently mad at him. “The silent treatment, over this?” Jungkook gestured at the screen looking unimpressed. “Excuse me, The Office is one of the most iconic sit-coms to ever be televised in the existence of sit-coms, you’re just uncultured.” Jungkook was having a dilemma, was he supposed to be glad you were speaking to him again or be mad over the fact that you had called him uncultured. “I just don’t understand the hype around sit-coms it’s basically the same situation over and over with different variables-” You slapped your hand onto his mouth to shut him up. “You already ruined Brooklyn 99 for me, keep this to yourself.”

After an entire year of being together, your dynamic was still yet to change. You both still acted like 12-year-old frenemies and madly in love adults simultaneously and you wouldn’t trade it for the world but in moments like such, the urge to strangle him was unbearable. “See this is why we can’t have nice things, Kook.” You folded your arms as you laid back onto the bed but Jungkook was committed to ensuring you didn’t go to bed angry. After several minutes of tense silence, the clock hit midnight and Jungkook whispered into your ear, “happy birthday, Y/N.” You tried to fight back a smile but you couldn’t no matter how hard you tried. You turned to him, smiling bitterly before whispering back, “Happy Anniversary, Jungkook.”

#jungkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #bts #bts fic #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts smut

486 notes · View notes

lu-undy · 3 years

Text

Chapter 95 - SBT

Here it is!

"And you make sure that you let it simmer just a bit more, unless you like the vegetables to have a bit of an extra crunch." Lucien put a lid on the saucepan.

"Ooh, I see…! How does Micky like it?" Caroline adjusted her glasses.

"It depends on his mood, sometimes, when I find him cheerful, I make it crunchy. If he is in a more calm set of mind, then I let it simmer an extra few minutes."

"Ah, I get it… Thank you, Lu'."

"Oh…?" Lucien blushed when Caroline used his nickname. She went to the tip of her toes and pinched his cheek.

"Ooh, blushy are we?"

"You should ask your son." Lucien chuckled.

"Ha, will do." Caroline turned to grab a kettle. "Tea or coffee?"

"Whatever you prefer."

"Tea, then. Mike and Micky will be a couple more hours I think, we can talk freely."

"Ah, I see. Let me help you."

Lucien now knew where the sugar was, the cups, the tray, and he helped himself in Caroline's kitchen to ready it all.

"Aw, you're such a dear, thank you."

"Non, thank you for being so welcoming and supportive. I say this from Mundy and myself, if I may."

The water was boiling and Caroline poured it in the porcelain, hand-painted kettle that she had placed on the tray. She added some biscuits and Lucien took it all to bring it on the coffee table. They both took a seat on the sofa and waited for the tea to brew.

"Well, Lucien… I will be honest with you. I did not want to show you or Micky much of what I was feeling or thinking. Of course the news of you being together uh… shook me. I went back home and kept thinking about it, couldn't really sleep."

"Oh… Do you wish to talk about it?"

Caroline sighed and looked hesitant.

"I don't know if I should… or can actually, I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Please, Caroline." Lucien put a hand on her shoulder. "Tell me."

She looked at his eyes and soon understood why her son had chosen that man. There was something in him, in his voice, his gaze; something inviting and kind.

"I just… How does it work?"

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"How did he… fall in love with you? See, I'm really trying to understand but I've never fallen in love with another sheila…?"

"I cannot answer your question on how he fell in love with me, but I can give you my side of the story."

Caroline nodded and took a sip.

"When I realised that I caught… feelings for Mundy, I first denied them. I was sent here on a mission, I shall carry it out and face the consequences of it all." He paused and looked at her. "Do you mind if I smoke?"

"No, go ahead. Mike likes to have his pipe from time to time too."

"Ah, thanks." Lucien lit one of his menthol cigarettes and gently blew the smoke away. "It was a waitress in a diner I used to go to who saw my feelings for him first."

"W-really?"

"Oui." Lucien chuckled and nodded. "I originally used her as an easy and unsuspicious way to get information about the people of this city and the geography. She is now looking up to me as if I had raised her."

"Oh…"

"Her name is Victoria, she is about to get married and… Well, she foolishly trusts me to walk her down the aisle."

"I don't think she is foolish, Lucien. I think you have more empathy than you let on. But carry on…"

Lucien waited for the pink on his cheeks to dissolve to resume his story.

"She saw an old spy fall in love, which was enough to convince me that either I had become useless at my job, or her feminine intuition was particularly sharp."

"Which one was it?"

"A bit of both, I suppose." They exchanged a chuckle. "But they kept on… annoying me, those feelings. I tried to brush them off but something crept up on me everytime I did."

"What was it?"

"The thought that it was my last chance at having something with someone, a semblance of… maybe not love but… comfort, at least. I know this is extremely selfish." Lucien looked away. "I apologise… It sounds like I saw your son only as a means to find my own little slice of happiness. But I can assure you that even though the temptation was strong, I did not yield to it. Mundy showed me so much empathy and compassion, since the first day we met…! It remained carved in my memory."

"What d'you mean?"

"The first day I met him, we were in this hangar and he was looking for his alligators. He… talked to them, as he would other people, tried to bring them comfort while they were locked up in tight crates. I was left wondering if he had lost his mind. But non, I saw him talking to them and sliding his hand on the crates as if it was the poor beast's back. And then I heard the alligator's response. They whined and it sounded like their own version of a cry. It struck me like lightning that day. That man was as gifted for sharpshooting as he was with animals."

"Yeah, that's my Micky alright…"

"To find a man with one gift is exceptional, but with two…?" Lucien shook his head. "Non, I had to know more about that man. So my professional curiosity tickled me, with a side of profound admiration for his skills. He never knew it of course."

"He never knew what? The curiosity you had about him?"

"Non, the admiration." Lucien answered and took another drag of his cigarette. "Caroline, I have been in the war and I have seen snipers. None of them would match him, none in a million years of intense training."

"Mike taught him how to hunt when he wasn't bigger than a rifle." Caroline said. "And he liked it. He didn't like it for the killing, he liked it like a hobby; a hobby that gets you food on the table."

"I understand." Lucien nodded. "And then came the numerous sides of his character that I saw in him, one of which was his determination, or rather his loyalty to both you and Mike, despite the fact that you had passed a long time ago. I thought only I was stupid enough to not have moved on ten years after losing my loved ones, but non. Mundy was in the same state of mind."

Caroline smiled, albeit sadly.

"His honesty, his trust… I fell for his character until one day I… Hm, I don't know how I shall phrase this to you…"

"Go ahead, don't be shy."

Lucien lowered his head.

"I saw him… bathing."

"Oh…" Caroline's eyebrows jumped.

"Non, non, I-I didn't see much, it was the night, he was far away in the lake and I was on the shore…"

"He washed himself in front of you?"

"He didn't exactly know that I was there -"

"You creep!"

"Non! I was there to have a chat with him for what we needed to do, I… I just happened to catch him at a rather… delicate moment."

"Ah…"

"But that night," Lucien took a drag of his cigarette. "I couldn't take my eyes off of his silhouette. There he was, in the calm water of the lake, and his silhouette was drawn by the slim light of the moon, a line of white just tracing his contour. No painting compared to the beauty that I saw that day. To anyone else, it was a homeless man washing himself in the most crude and primitive way. To me, it was a man whose heart was closer to the animals than to the rest of us, taking a bath in the way that we were all intended to."

Lucien raised his eyes to Caroline.

"You have a handsome son. Where others find him old, tired, tanned by the sun, scruffy, maybe even dirty….! I see a strong and compassionate man whose external beauty is nothing compared to what his heart holds." Lucien shook the cigarette in the ashtray.

"You're one to talk, eh? You could get any sheila you want!"

"I could, but I don't want any other women in my life. There will always only be Marie. And I thought it would be the end of the story for me, until I met Mundy. He broke my heart, made it burst, tore it apart, mutilated it in all ways possible until I understood that… I was wrong. I had been terribly wrong. He did not hurt my heart. He made it more… alive! And if I had managed to feel all those emotions, it was only because my heart had in fact healed." Lucien looked at his open palms. "I had healed and my heart was ready to love again."

"Nah," Caroline shook her index finger. "You weren't ready to love, you were already lovin' him."

"You are right." He nodded.

"How did you know that he also liked… y'know, not only sheilas…"

"Ah, well, back in the days when he didn't know that the spy and the singer were one and the same, I told him about my, uhm, somewhat open-minded preferences. He answered that it was the same for him."

"Ah, I see." She nodded. "Still… Uhm… Sorry if that's weird or rude but…"

"Please, go ahead."

"Don't you find it odd?"

"I don't find it as odd as I find it unusual. It is uncommon in this day and age for two men to share their days. But remember that in all days and ages, however strict the upbringing or system of values was, there has always been men who shared their days together."

"It's true… I just… There's something else now if I'm being honest." She nervously pushed a lock of her short hair behind her ear.

"Oui?"

She started fidgeting with her fingers and her eyes darted everywhere but on Lucien's.

"I'm… You've had a son, right?"

"Oui."

"Did you… I mean, I don't mean it to offend you but… Did you raise him?"

"Oui, as much as I could while I was with him."

"Well then you might understand what I'm feeling." Lucien wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I… I feel like it's… it might be the way we raised him?"

"What do you mean?" He gently asked.

"The fact that he, uh… He likes blokes too… Maybe it's me, maybe I did somethin' wrong…?"

"There is as much wrong in the way that you brought him up as in the way he is now, which is nothing. If anything, you like men too, non?" He smiled.

"Yeah, but…"

"I know what you feel." Lucien said. "When Jérémy passed, I felt that I passed with him. My family name, me, my whole being is forfeit. Why are we here on Earth if not to pass on something…?"

"Yeah…"

"I am sorry we will not give you grandchildren of our own, and I understand the pain that you feel. I… I would have loved having children, especially now that I am not a spy anymore and there is no danger floating above my head."

There was a long pause and Lucien crushed his cigarette butt in the ashtray.

"Do not blame yourself. First, you have nothing to feel guilt, remorse or regret about. You have raised a man to become a model for the entire human race. He is kind, selfless and as brave as a human being can be. I do not say this lightly, I have been in conflicts, I have seen the most bloody war history has yet known for us Europeans. Your son is braver than most men who wear medals."

"Because he likes a man?"

"Non, because of who he is, his personality. He put you and Mike before himself all his life." Lucien explained. "He even… Well, before he told you the truth in person, he went to the cemetery."

Caroline adjusted her glasses.

"He then told you and Mike about it all, all he had been through, everything he had been holding back in his own self for the past four decades or so."

"Oh…"

"And he argued with Mike. It brought him to his knees and to tears."

"He what?" She asked, unsure of what she should understand.

"He could hear him beyond the grave. He could hear his disappointment but still faced it, for the sake of telling you both the truth. You count to him much more than what words could express, Caroline."

"My poor baby…" She put her cup back on the tray.

"It was heartbreaking to see him, a grown and strong man, falling to his knees at the sight of his disappointed father… who was only there in his mind. That, Caroline, is what you can take immense pride in." She raised her eyes to him. "Never have I seen a son so dedicated and faithful to his parents. He has always put your well-being before his own, even beyond the grave."

Caroline took a deep breath to help her process and digest what Lucien had just told her. It took her a moment, during which Lucien remained silent.

“Hold on… He went to our graves and...?”

“Oui, he told you and Mike about his relationship with me and could hear and see both your reactions.”

She frowned.

“Can I ask… Uhm… Did he visit us often?"

Lucien sighed.

"He spent ten years paralysed, Caroline, paralysed and eaten out by regret and guilt."

"Ah… I see…"

Silence fell for a while.

"You are still trying to wrap your head around it?" Lucien asked and she nodded, frowning still. "You should not."

"What? Why?" She asked.

"Because, as we say in French, le coeur a ses raisons que la raison ignore. The heart has reasons that reason itself cannot understand. You are trying to understand love with your brain. This is not how it works."

She looked up to him and sighed.

"If you think about Mike," Lucien started again. "The reasons you love him only make sense to your heart. Oui, you may say that there are objective reasons why you love him, but they are merely pretexts, empty, shell words to try and convince someone else that you like him because in your own intimate heart, you don't love him with your head first. You love him with everything else first and then comes the head. Oui, he is strong, reliable, confident, amongst other things. But countless other people are, and you do not love them like you do him. There is something else with him, something that you head cannot mold into words because your head does not comprehend it. It comes from here." Lucien tapped his chest. "And the language used here is foreign to what this can understand." He pointed at his head.

"I guess I get it…" Caroline's shoulders sank.

"But you are disappointed that your head does not, hm?"

"Yeah… I wish I could."

"You do understand it Caroline. You love Mike the same way that Mundy loves me and vice versa."

"Yeah, I think I get it." She looked up to him and smiled. "More than that, I'm happy that Micky is happy with you. I've never seen him smile so much before."

"He does have a uniquely beautiful smile indeed." Lucien nodded with a loving grin. "Seeing a smile is always a blessing, but from someone who endured a difficult life for so long, it only makes it more precious."

"Look at you, eh, all mushy, blushy and dreamy eyes…!" She chuckled.

"Well, what can I say…? You know what I think of him."

"Yeah, I do… Oh?"

There was a knock at the door.

"Who's that?" Caroline asked as she stood up.

"Who d'you think?"

She opened the door to Mike and Mundy.

"Hey guys…!" Hugs were exchanged and both men entered the house.

"Ooh, we came right on time for tea, Micky, eh?" Mike said.

"Yeah, we brought some cake, Mum, here…"

"Oh, that's perfect. Lucien, dear, can you bring two more cups?"

"Of course."

They all gathered in the living-room. Mike and Caroline took the sofa while Mundy sat on the armchair with Lucien on the armrest.

"We can squeeze on the sofa, Lucien." Mike said. "Micky, c'mere and leave the armchair for your friend."

"Nah, they're fine." Caroline said. "Here, Mike, that's your tea and your slice of cake. Lucien, here, pass this on to Micky, I put both your slices on the same plate, is that alright?"

Mundy blushed.

"Parfait, Caroline, merci."

[Perfect, Caroline, thank you.]

Lucien took the plate and put it on his thigh for both Mundy and him to dig in.

"Mh! That's a really good one!" Caroline commented on the chocolate cake.

"Not as good as yours, Mum." Mundy answered.

"Aw, sweetie… But yeah, not bad at all, and not too sweet either, eh?" She added.

"Does that mean I can get another slice after dinner?" Mike asked.

"Depends…!" She teased.

"On what?"

"If you behave!"

"See, Micky? See what your Mum makes me go through…? See the power of this sheila?"

"Oh c'mon, Dad, she's tryin' to watch out for your health…"

"Well, there's doctors for that, eh?"

"Yeah, Mike, and the doctor said watch out for sugar…!" Caroline said.

"Bah, my sugar's fine…" Mike answered and raised his eyes from the cake to his son. "See, Micky, find yourself a sheila who lets you eat cake and who doesn't listen to the nonsense doctors blabber about."

Mundy choked on his cake, coughing repeatedly. Lucien hit his back to help him.

"Mike!" Caroline said.

"What? What did I do this time?"

She glared at him and the old man quieted down until his son caught his breath.

"Drink some, Mundy…" Lucien gave him his cup and the poor Aussie wiped his tears before he obeyed.

"Oh… Gosh…"

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, thanks, luv'."

Caroline and Lucien's eyes snapped wide.

"What did you just call him?" Mike asked and Mundy realised what his tongue had let slip out of his mouth without his full consent.

Caroline and Lucien exchanged an apprehensive glance before she saw the Frenchman take the plate of cake and put it on the coffee table. Mundy lowered his head and his breath accelerated.

"Micky…?" Mike insisted.

"You… Ya heard me." Mundy admitted, his head still lowered.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #SBT

7 notes · View notes

uservillanelle · 4 years

Text

Killing Eve ― 3x06 (Review)

The time has finally come for yet another review. I can’t believe we only have two more episodes and it will be the end of season 3. Seriously, Killing Eve should AT LEAST have 10 solid episodes per season as most of other shows do. It would be just enough content (more than we get now) and without having to stretch things out. Now, theres A LOT to talk about, so I’ll try my best to touch upon as many things and details as I can! So sit back, grab your tea/coffee and let’s get started!

Title cards

I covered this topic back in 3x04 review, but they did it again, and this time the title card game is somewhat different. It’s really apparent that they are experimenting with editing and trying new things and that’s good, because we know that not only they want characters to develop, but to improve and change the editing and production of the show itself.

It was a bit unusual when they swapped from location titles to character names back in 3x04, but this time it was actually fun. I mean “PISS OFF FOREVER?!” This cracked me up sooo bad, I had to rewatch it several times lmao!! And don’t even try to tell me that they left Niko alive for THIS. It’s not the first time he rejects Eve and wants to get away from her, so what is the point of that scene with him? We didn’t get any new information or knowledge. So... I’ll call that waste of precious screen time which, in this case, should be dedicated for Eve’s personal character story because hell, she’s the one who deserves it the most.

Then they did it again with CUBA/NOT CUBA and honestly it cracked me up, AGAIN! I actually loved they did something like this, even though it kind of gave this comedy type of feel knowing how dark and complicated this show actually is. And of course the “THIS IS BULLSHIT” was exactly what Oksana said at the meeting with Helene not so long ago, so them reflecting on that and showing the phrase as a title is so relatable and at the same time kind of expresses how Oksana feels and what she thinks.

So far they haven’t really decided as to what kind of editing style they are going for, but I do hope that at the end of this season they realize how they will carry the show onwards starting with season 4, because them keeping this up and changing things constantly is not a good thing. Many people find it annoying and really, they aren’t used to any of that, so I hope season 4 will have a more consistent style when it comes to editing and carrying the main storylines, ect!

Niko (ft. Eve)

There isn’t really much to talk about here, other than... Niko being alive makes NO sense, whatsoever. I personally wasn’t expecting to see him being killed off or anything similar to that, but since they basically PITCHFORKED him, just let him die, okay? There is NO way he could’ve possibly survived something like this and that means they have to have a VERY big reason that would, you know, justify him surviving so fans can “ignore” the fact that it doesn’t make sense to begin with. So far, they didn’t provide any reason for that. Niko didn’t say anything useful to Eve... nor did Eve. She was just rejected again and had a confrontation with Niko’s uncle, I believe. Wow, someone of his family members don’t like Eve. What a shocker, right?

One of the very few options that I could see happening and making sense is for Niko to be alive and for Eve to make a decision and choose Villanelle over him. Not because she lost everybody and she’s the only one she has left, but to be able to choose her because she WANTS to. Instead, what did we see? We saw a very desperate and determined Eve who’s willing to go that extra mile to find whoever hurt Niko. Despite everything, a part of her still has hope for them even now so maaybe, after those fancy “PISS OFF FOREVER” words, Eve will finally come to her senses? Even though most of following scenes had her feeling the same way. So I really have no idea what else to expect and why Niko is still there.

There’s also a theory going around about how Eve should pull the plug and kill her husband lol. I mean, that way, their conversation from the very first episode about how Eve could kill Niko and that storyline could come full circle, but given what we saw of Eve and her values and mental state.. yeah I don’t see her doing that anytime soon, or ever, in fact. She’s still clinging to Niko somewhat and she must go REALLY wild and dark in order to do something like this. Though, I must admit... I kind of would love to see it as well! At the end of the day we all want dark!Eve to rise... and she is getting there, believe me!

Villanelle & Helene

I’m very conflicted about this duo. Especially after watching the promo/preview of upcoming episode. Yeah... I’m just going to throw it out there. I think Villanelle will end up killing Helene. The meeting wasn’t exactly successful, as Dasha of course lied to Villanelle about having all the control or probably, the description of a Keeper is quite different to Helene and Dasha than what Villanelle already knew about it thanks to Konstantin. So.. could it be that back in 1x07 Konstantin lied to her? Or that Dasha told Helene something different to get Villanelle in line and believing she is actually “moving up” in the world? Honestly, still much to think about.

I LOVED Villanelle’s, or should I say, Oksana’s outfit during the meeting and especially how big of a mess her hair was. I mean the hair perfectly reflects her inner state and yeah, she IS a mess and she has every reason to be. Someone previously mentioned how Villanelle was the one who went to Russia, but it was Oksana who left it and now I’m starting to really see and feel just how true it is. I mean this episode was almost all Oksana, except a couple of moments where she tried her best to keep her defenses up, for instance being sarcastic with Helene. “Are you trying to seduce me?” I mean... I wouldn’t mind them getting some.. buut, it’s not going to happen. Still, those lines were hilarious as much as they were iconic and yeah, in that moment she was trying to play her main character, which is Villanelle but as soon as she spotted the post card it was over. Oksana took over and she freaked out. The bad thing about this is that she is very emotional and very vulnerable right now, her mind and emotions are all over the place and that could be why she didn’t really think about Dasha being the one who lied to her? Or maybe she did think about it but we aren’t aware of it yet? This can’t mean anything good and I am honestly concerned for her.

What else I noticed from that scene is that Helene was quite open in terms of deciding to speak to her daughter I’m guessing, in front of Villanelle while not really you know, feeling like she could be in danger? Despite the fact that she is literally standing in front of a killer. I guess she is really used to that and her job is meeting a lot of assassins and other dangerous people? And then there is Villanelle who keeps asking her all kinds of questions, silly or not, she did ask whether Helene was her real name and yet she didn’t answer. In fact, she didn’t answer any of Villanelle’s questions and that is again, concerning. So maybe Helene isn’t her name, but that’s kind of ironic, knowing that Villanelle isn’t really her name either. So yeah, seeing Helene be so...cool around Villanelle especially while she was freaking the fuck out should say something and that probably means she knows exactly how to handle such people and situations like this. I’ll definitely keep my eyes on her from now on.

Eve

Our precious Eve is finally getting some quality screen time. Not enough, but at least she’s getting some. What I absolutely LOVED about her in this episode is just how confident and sure she is about Villanelle not being the one who hurt Niko. Yeah, let’s remember that the last time she and Villanelle saw each other was on the damn bus where they had a major fight and a kiss. That was Villanelle and she was such a smug asshole there and everything and thinking about this now, it’s completely different person from who Oksana is and it’s mindblowing actually. So to think that Eve didn’t consider Villanelle being the one who hurt Niko, despite there not being ANY evidence that state that is just... their connection is simply incredible. No matter how many times Villanelle and Eve end up hurting each other, they STILL have this hidden trust within each other that I find extremely fascinating and then Eve gets the photos of Bertha Kruger and of course, that’s what Villanelle was doing while Eve was in Poland coming to visit Niko. I’m glad that there is this alibi in Villanelle’s defense to show that she was doing something else, KILLING someone else at the time and the fact that Eve thought that it was Villanelle who killed her, even if she did it in a “nice” way... is beyond me. There is really no one else who knows and understands Villanelle/Oksana better than Eve. Period.

Another important aspect that is worth mentioning is the fact that the writers are kind of robbing Eve of screen time and character development. We haven’t seen her much this season and especially during the previous couple of episodes and even in this one it seems like Carolyn got more screen time than she did and Villanelle as well, who JUST had her solo episode, which is kind of unfair. However, I do think Villanelle deserved to have her own episode now since her character is going through such a huge change, meanwhile Eve is going through her thing, but it doesn’t feel like it’s as huge and as extreme as it is for Villanelle. At least that’s what they’re showing us. But yeah, I think season 2 was way more about exploring Eve’s inner darkness than this season, which is more about acceptance of her dark self and her feelings for Villanelle. Let’s just trust the writers and see how they will handle Eve’s character during the next remaining episodes and only then we can actually judge the crew and the lack of screen time Eve received, because really, what I noticed this season is that Suzanne really wanted to show EVERY character and so far she has been sucessful in that for the most part, with one flaw, that is the screen time management and yeah, we shall see how that aspect is handled in the next episodes!

Villanelle & Konstantin

So we got the hockey game scene. I’m glad to know that Konstantin didn’t set Oksana up by sending her to some strangers. One of the highlights of their conversation was Konstantin’s comment about Oksana’s mother who he thought was INSANE rather than evil and was hoping for Oksana to awknowledge it instead of killing her. Guess she didn’t really consider it as an option? But does that mean then that Oksana as just as insane and isn’t aware of it just like Tatiana wasn’t? At the same time we know that Oksana KNOWS there is something wrong with her, at least that’s what everybody else keeps telling her, so I wouldn’t call her insane. At the same time seeing that Konstantin wanted to give this chance for Oksana to get some kind of closure by being with her family and especially her mother does show just how much he cares about her. Until... their conversation shifts. Again.

So apparently Oksana knows about Konstantin’s plan to “get out” and she is suddenly interested in joining him. Now this part of the conversation PAINFULLY reminds me of their last interaction of season 2 finale. Especially the part where Konstantin chooses his family instead of Villanelle, who is ALSO his family, whether he admits it or not. They might not be related by blood, but he IS her father and seeing not only her own mother reject her but her father as well will do things to you. So again, Konstantin leaning towards choosing to leave with Irina and leaving Oksana behind only to promise her that he will come and get her is not enough. He betrayed her several times... he left her at the prison in season 1 even though he “tried” to get her out of it. He betrayed her at the end of season 2 by choosing his family over her, and now... now it feels like ANOTHER betrayal is coming and to be completely honest I don’t think Oksana can handle so much rejection at the moment. Of course, Konstantin can’t just pick Oksana over his own daughter, but it’s wrong to play with her like that. She killed her own mother and left her blood family in order to get back to her REAL family who is Konstantin and Irina and neither of them show enough of determination to bring her along which really saddens me. I mean Oksana went through enough as it is... I’m not sure how she will get through this if Konstantin will leave her again... and I won’t have it either. They better not do it again.

Villanelle & Irina (ft. Konstantin)

I just love, love, LOOVE these two together. I mean 1x08 is one of the most iconic Killing Eve episodes and they are the biggest reason why. I’ve been waiting for them to get together again and those a couple of scenes they got to spend together didn’t disappoint. I LIVE for their interactions. I mean what can be better than two sisters bonding? Especially when it’s Vasiliev sisters. Them fighting like true siblings do, having fun while both of them having this insanely chaotic driving session and at the same time touching upon going to CUBA as well as finding out Irina’s feelings towards her own mom and her boyfriend, who Villanelle doesn’t see any reason NOT to encourage her to kill him lmao! I mean, first Irina sarcastically calls Villanelle a “real role model” and 15 seconds later she is literally driving over her step-father LOL! I mean... I am SO proud of her. She really did take her sisters advice on this without much of thinking and at the same time I am kind of concerned about her. We all saw Konstantin’s reaction to her driving over the guy and well... that’s not exactly the best thing to do.

In Oksana’s defense, I do think she was trying to be helpful in giving Irina this advice, since we all know that’s how she normally chooses to solve problems. By killing. Plus, I don’t think she actually expected Irina to take her advice either way. Let’s take Tatianas case for example. Yes, it’s a lot different because she was mentally abusing Oksana for years and there was lack of affection and all that, so Tatiana definitely deserved it. In Irina’s case... she’s just “disgusted” of seeing her mom with her boyfriend all the damn time and I don’t think she should’ve killed anyone for that. Besides, she was already preparing to leave with Konstantin so what’s the point? She wouldn’t have to put up with them anymore, yet she did it anyways. And what stands out for me about this is that we see Oksana not wanting to do any of that anymore, no more killing, just wanting to get out of this assassin thing meanwhile Irina just had her first kill. Kind of beautiful in a way, of having one of them ready to quit this way of life while having one of them indirectly influence and push the other into the beginning of such dangerous path. And from the looks of it, Irina didn’t seem to feel bad for driving over her step-father, like AT ALL. So I wouldn’t blame Oksana for the whole thing. Yes, she planted the idea in Irina’s head but it was her who actually did it and didn’t feel bad about it.

This whole dynamic just makes me want to remember the lunch scene in 1x08 where Villanelle asks Irina “Are you a bad person?” “I don’t know yet” well, guess now we are starting to see the person she is becoming and yeah I don’t think any of us saw this coming, that their previous conversation could be a foreshadowing in this way!. I’m VERY glad they decided to bring Yuli back this season since she is one of fan favorites and like I said, the dynamic between Villanelle and Irina is just great!

Konstantin, on the other hand... guy is in serious DEEP shit this season and now having to witness his actual daughter kill someone... yeah, I think having to handle Oksana is complicated enough and she alone manages to drive him mad so now the idea of having TWO mentally unstable daughters... yup, it’s time to do something about this. At the same time I kind of see the parallel between Oksana and Irina and how they could be reflecting one another. Tatiana wasn’t there for Oksana most of the time and didn’t show her any affection, ect. Konstantin is of course not as bad as Tatiana was, but the fact is, is that he is not really there for Irina. She’s not really getting as much of his attention and love as Oksana gets from him since she’s so demanding. So it makes sense for Irina to become more like Oksana, having them both be neglected by their parents in a way.

ALSO!!! Is it just me or is Konstantin the FATHER of the entire show lol?! A lot of people thought that he might be the one who killed Kenny. Now, all out of sudden he might actually be his father?! Yes, the thought did cross my mind but I never expected them to address it in that way. So... based on Carolyn’s forried look and silence that followed afterwards... this is the confirmation? Konstantin is Kenny’s dad then? Or maybe Carolyn isn’t sure of that either? Life is SO much more complicated in Killing Eve, I swear lol! Then there’s the thing with Geraldine... not sure where they are getting with this yet. Feels like we don’t really know anything about Geraldine just yet and really.. so far it just seems like she has daddy issues which could explain her amazing bond with her father and him not being there anymore. (I assume he died). Funny enough, we see Oksana having mommy issues. Yes. It is a thing now. And I’m not very excited to see where Konstantin/Geraldine thing is going...

Carolyn (ft. Geraldine)

We finally get to see Carolyn uncovering more information about Kenny’s case and actually it brings more questions than answers if you think about it. Kenny calling Konstantin, him possibly being his father, Geraldine kissing Konstantin and so on. This is suuch a mess.

The long awaited conversation with Geraldine gave us more insight as to why Carolyn is so cold towards her daughter and I get it. Really. What I don’t realy get is the fact that Geraldine decided to not mention Konstantin coming to visit her while insisting her mother to talk about Kenny. If she wants them to be truly open about things and just have a honest conversation, she has to open up about other things as well. That includes Konstantin. And gosh, she better tell the truth in the next episode because I’ve had enough with all the lies. Plus the season is almost over and we hardly know anything about her. Please, Suzanne, don’t let us down on this!

Eve & Dasha

I just love how easily Eve teleported to Barcelona lol! I’ve been also waiting for their face off and it happened. I was expecting something a lot more... crazier, physical, but all they did was basically annoy each other by fighting over VILLANELLE and their importance in her life while having this bowling match. The fact that Eve has NEVER done it before makes the whole winning aspect sooo much more delicious and come on, Eve just HAD to notice how Dasha missed one of her strikes as soon as she mentioned that Niko was still alive. Makes me wonder if its THAT easy for someone to throw Dasha off her game, yet she’s soo narcissistic and so ahead of herself.

Eve’s trust in Villanelle continues to AMAZE me, like no matter what Dasha told her she STILL denied all of her bullshit as if it was nothing and that is coming from someone who had only met Villanelle a handful of times. This is such a nice parallel to season 2 finale where Carolyn told Eve that Villanelle wouldn’t do the same for her. Not only did Eve figure out who Dasha was and that Villanelle was working for her, but she actually went to Barcelona to confront Dasha like that and call her out without much of hesitation. Again, Dasha mentioned “killing” Eve and that is concerning. There is a reason Carolyn told Eve that Dasha ended up killing one of her own... and that, I feel, is huge foreshadowing for upcoming episodes. Dasha IS the problem and she will cause even more. Honestly, I’m afraid she might do something to Villanelle or Konstantin for that matter. After all, she DID kill one of her own to save her own ass and I bet she can and will try to do it again.

Villanelle/Oksana (ft. Dasha)

To put it lightly, Oksana is a mess. She is going through a LOT. We’ve never seen her this vulnerable and emotional before and she has EVERY reason to feel this way. Now, it is sad that people seem to be struggling to separate Villanelle from Oksana. Like I’ve mentioned in my previous post, this episode was almost 95% Oksana and the rest 5% of her trying her best to look somewhat like her old self mostly at the meeting with Helene and during her next kill. After killing her own mother, she doesn’t see or feel the same way about killing. At least not right now. It’s a lot more difficult for her to turn her emotions off now that they are so intense and she can’t focus clearly. She is becoming sloppy at her job and she doesn’t want to do any of it anymore. Now that I’m thinking about it, we’ve seen more of Villanelle so far than we have of Oksana. The previous two seasons we saw only this confident persona that Oksana has created with several occasions where her real self comes to surface. And this season it’s all about peeling those layers, of slowly peeling away Villanelle and getting to meet Oksana. So, we are sooo used to seeing Villanelle in action, her interact with people that we can’t see her being emotional, let alone crying. It’s not like her. Because it’s NOT her. It’s Oksana and don’t know her enough to know what she is like and what is in character for her. Truth is, she is vulnerable, hurt and in pain. She is going through the death of her mother, the loss of her family, the loss of control and being manipulated (again) by others in doing something for them. It all was building up and now she can’t escape those feelings anymore and she wants to quit.

I feel like this time she REALLY means it. She really wants to quit and she is willing to give away EVERYTHING. The apartment, the clothes.. and EVE. The first time I’ve watched the scene I got really concerned and scared... because that means Villanelle is willing to leave Eve like that. At the same time I started to realize that this is sooo much bigger than Eve or them being together. This is Oksana wanting to have a new life... and she wants it so bad, she is willing to leave Eve behind. This, right here.. it called CHARACTER GROWTH and I am soo proud of her for reaching this point, of wanting this life, wanting something for HERSELF even if it means giving away everything she loves. That’s when you know she is being serious about it. So maybe this will turn out to be a good thing... maybe when Eve will notice and find out about this... she will be even more willing to accept her feelings for Oksana and they might end up just running away together because they can and because both of them want for this bullshit to end.

Now, Konstantin told Villanelle to NOT tell anyone about their escape plan. She promised not to do it but then she had a breakdown and ended up telling it to Dasha.Such a BAD move. I mean.. Dasha is the last person she was supposed to tell this to... and I’m sure it will cause major problems. Dasha will get someone killed and I don’t blame Oksana. She’s not in the right state of mind and really, if she haven’t told it to Dasha, we probably wouldn’t have as much action and drama happening in the next remaining episodes. So will see. But I really do hope Dasha will fail at whatever she will try to do.

I’ve probably said it plenty of times but Jodie Comer’s acting STRIKES AGAIN! So many powerful performances delivered each single episode, I am speechless and I really don’t know what else to say. Just see it for yourselves. She deserves another Emmy and more!

Villaneve screen time

This is not really a part of a specific episode review, but more like me wanting to point something out. It’s been 6 episodes already and we only got ONE Villaneve scene. The bus scene. The kiss scene. Yeah, it was mindblowing and amazing but that’s not enough. And something tells me they might not even meet in next episode.. only see each other at the very end of the episode and that’s on it’s own upsetting... I mean I dare to say, even season 1 had more Villaneve screen time than season 3 has. I’m not even talking about season 2, where literally they spend together half of a season together occasionally meeeting up. This show IS about them and their dynamic and how can we have it if they are not interacting together? I get that this season is more focused on character development and them evolving separatelly, but Villaneve still has to be a thing... and they better give us the entire finale filled with Villaneve quality content or else... after all, they ARE the main plot of the show for me and there’s that.

Overall Thoughts

Another solid Killing Eve episode. Since they have only 8 episodes, they can allow themselves to make such rich, intense and filled with information/action type of episodes and it shows. There were a couple of weaker episodes, but overall this season is getting stronger with each episode and I am very nervous as I am scared and excited for the remaining two!

As always guys, if you have any theories or thoughts about this episode, Killing Eve in general or anything else, feel free to jump in my ask box or message me directly, I’d love to chat!!

#ke spoilers #killing eve #villanelle #villaneve #eve polastri #jodie comer #sandra oh #ke s3 #ke 3x06 #ke review*#ke 3x06 review #ke*#creation #enjoy guys!!

117 notes · View notes