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universitypenguin · 11 months

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Chapter XIV

Summary: Lloyd sets his sights on orchestrating Holbrook’s downfall and uses skills from his former life to serve up his own brand of justice. Meanwhile, Princess interviews a witness who casts doubt on key information in the case.

Masterlist

Word Count: 7,352

Warnings: Explicit discussion of murder and serial abductions. Mention of extortion, police corruption, drugs, and kidnapping. Spy/intelligence agency themes, general violence depiction of criminal behavior. Minor foul language. Only appropriate for 18+ readers. No minors.

Chapter XIV

Lloyd scowled at the muddy road as he navigated around the section that had been washed out by last night’s thunderstorm. The damage to the ranch’s main road aggravated his simmering frustration. He would need to order a truckload of gravel first thing on Monday.

He’d left the house at dawn and spent the day running around like a chicken with its head cut off, searching for Elliot. As light faded into the western sky, he had nothing to show for the effort. Every potential hiding spot he’d searched turned up empty. He’d spent the morning checking abandoned hunting cabins and old flop houses he remembered druggies frequenting. After lunch he expanded his search radius to the forest service cabins up in the Sawtooth mountains, then hunting blinds, and remote campgrounds.

In the evening, he’d driven out to Redfish Lake, apprehension growing with each mile, and searched the boat shed. It was empty. The only residents he’d found were of the eight legged variety. After closing up the shed, he’d surveyed the lake’s perimeter, visiting the remote places with heavy foliage that could disguise the activity associated with disposing of a body. None of them appeared disturbed. Overall, the day had been a waste.

The weight of failure settled over him as his eyes lit on an unfamiliar sight ahead.

A strange pickup truck was parked in front of the ranch house. Lloyd’s gut tightened. He jerked the wheel and pulled off into the cover of a grove of trees. Holbrook wouldn’t drive the beat up ‘97 Ford parked in the yard if his life depended on it, but it would be just like him to send someone else to do his dirty work. Concealing his vehicle in the trees, Lloyd reached behind the seat for the PTR-91 rifle he’d stashed there and slung it over his shoulder. He secured it to his back and checked his ankle holster for Joe’s Sig Sauer. In the shoulder holster he wore a Glock17 - his weapon of choice in his previous life.

The weight rested comfortably in his palm as he snuck through the trees and across the lawn. He kept his finger wrapped around the trigger guard, and the weapon hidden behind his thigh, as he climbed the steps to the porch. Every creak of the wood under his boots felt magnified as he approached the door. He scanned the shadows along the edge of the porch, searching for signs of movement. The front door was unlocked, and the knob turned easily.

The scent of fresh coffee surprised him. Lloyd stepped inside, gun raised and took measured steps as he swept the living room. His guest hadn’t turned the lights on. He glanced around, seeking signs of the intruder, and spun to the kitchen. The brightness from the picture window stung his eyes, blurring his vision for a moment. When they refocused, his heart skipped a beat.

Elliot Hansen sat at the kitchen table. He was slouched over a mug of coffee, which if the dark rings under his eyes were anything to go by, he desperately needed.

“Lloyd. I’ve been waiting for you.”

The tension drained away. He lowered the gun and studied his cousin for a moment before turning back to shut the front door. Lloyd laid the Glock on the table and sat down across from Elliot. A dozen questions filled his mind, but he hesitated to ask them. Elliot didn’t fill the silence. He just took a long drink from his coffee, looking ready to fall asleep at any moment.

“Elliot?” Lloyd found his voice unexpectedly soft as relief shifted to concern. “What happened? Why did you come here?”

“I need your help.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You picked your way through the crowd of shoppers, scanning ahead. The entrance to Zach’s office was between a hand-rolled ice cream shop and a Kate Spade store. If you weren’t paying attention, the discreetly placed entry was easy to miss. It was painted the same color as the wall and served as access to the outlet mall’s second floor, which had been converted to office space during the Great Recession. You found the door and unlocked it with the code he’d sent.

The curving marble stairs led to a wide corridor brightened by tasteful chandeliers and intermittent skylights that invited in the natural light. In sharp contrast to the busy mall, this level was quiet. At the end of the hall you reached his office, pressed the button, and waited for the chime that announced the door had been unlocked.

Zach was in his office with his feet propped up on his desk. The soles of his moc-toe Carhartt boots were so worn that you could hardly make out the original tread pattern. The deep worry lines in his forehead and the dark circles under his eyes immediately caught your attention. Before you could ask, his expression shifted into a smirk.

“Morning, Princess. What brings you in so early on this lovely Saturday?”

“Ha ha. You called me.”

“And was shocked when you picked up the phone. I was going to leave a voicemail.”

“I got up early to meal prep, then remembered Lloyd’s fridge is fully stocked.”

Zach made a face. “Be careful in there, he eats weird stuff.”

“I can’t take that warning seriously from a man who ate fried rattlesnake and liked it.”

“A man has to draw the line somewhere and I draw mine at blood pudding.”

“Do I want to know?”

“If it looks like sausage and it’s in his fridge, don’t touch it.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Now, why am I here?”

“With Lloyd in Idaho, we don’t have a Mandarin translator, so I called in a favor from an ex-teammate. Roth has cleared him to work on the case.”

“What are we doing that requires a translator?”

“An interview. I got in touch with the archivist in Julia’s home town. He asked to meet after work, so you have an hour to prepare.”

You took the overflowing file he extended.

“When did you put all this together?”

“Yesterday and last night.”

“Have you slept?”

“No, which is why you’re doing the interview. I’m heading home to crash once your translator gets here. He’s apparently running late.”

“It’s Saturday, no one’s late on Saturday,” you said.

“I like the way you think.”

A deep voice behind you made you jump. You dropped the file and whirled, catching your heel on the threshold, and falling with an undignified squeak. A pair of strong arms stopped you from hitting the ground and pulled you upright. Gasping, you braced a hand on your rescuer’s shoulder and turned ninety degrees to look at him. He had dark brown hair and a short, trim beard that emphasized his high cheekbones. His eyes, an unusual blend of blue and green, were crinkled with amusement. A full, expressive mouth was drawn into a crooked half smile at your expense.

“Sorry, darlin’, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The newcomers’ accent was crisper than Zach’s drawl, but not as familiar.

You noticed he dropped the ‘r’ in darling, turning it into ‘dah-ling.’ Immediately, your mind went to New England, but the way he rolled his vowels was distinctly Southern. The vestiges of a southern accent, perhaps?

“I’m fine. I didn’t realize you were behind me.”

“How’d you get in?” Zach asked, his voice edged with annoyance.

“I slipped in behind her.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“To see if I could.”

He flashed a Cheshire Cat grin, full of mischief. Your disapproval melted at his boyish enjoyment. Wasn’t it better to find a weakness now, than when it really counted?

“I’m having Jake update the alarm system first thing when he’s back. Y/N, this is Marco Lattimer. He and I served together on the teams. Besides being a first class troublemaker, he’s fluent in five languages.”

Marco smirked. “Fluent in five, but I speak seven.”

“Wow. That’s… impressive.”

“Thank you.”

“Marco will be your translator. I’ve already briefed him on the case.”

Zach turned to Marco, eyes sharpening. “Lattimer, don’t even think about flirting with my colleague.”

“What if she doesn’t mind?” Marco said, winking at you.

“She’s Lloyd’s research assistant and you’ll have to deal with him regarding the ‘what if’ part, but I’d advise against finding out. Princess, you’ve still got that taser I gave you? Marco’s harmless, but if he gets on your nerves, you have my permission to zap him.”

You grinned at Marco’s disgruntled expression.

“I’m sure we’ll get along fabulously,” you said. “Go home Zach, I can handle this.”

Ten minutes later you were in the conference room with Marco, waiting for the Zoom call to start.

“So, how’d you end up working with Lloyd?” Marco asked.

“I interned at his law firm. He stole me from the paralegal department for my research skills.”

“Sorry to hear that. It must be miserable to be around him all the time. I swear, he’s the reason lawyers get a bad rap. He could teach classes on how to be insufferable.”

This was a sentiment you’d heard many times before.

“Lloyd and I get on fine.”

“Do you have the patience of a saint, an addiction to benzos, or just do a lot of meditation?”

“It depends on the day. Most of the time meditation works, but a stash of benzos is always a good back up plan.”

By the time the computer lit up with the incoming call, you and Marco were on friendly terms. He was charming, funny, and definitely flirting with you. The flirting didn’t concern you because you sensed his pursuit was less about genuine interest and more about target practice. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and folded his arms in a way that showcased his biceps. You would’ve thought it was deliberate but his posture was too nonchalant to be premeditated.

You relied on Marco to make sure Mr. Liu was comfortable and let him engage Liu in small talk for a few minutes. Working with a translator always provided a great excuse to sit back and observe your subject’s mannerisms before starting the interview. Mr. Liu appeared to be in his sixties, with horn-rimmed glasses and neatly combed hair. He wore casual office attire and judging by the fit of his light blue button down, he starched his shirts. He fit the role of village archivist like he’d been sent straight from central casting. After he was settled, you turned the discussion toward pressing matters.

“Did you have any personal connection to Julia or her family?”

Mr. Liu spoke and Marco translated.

“Yes, I knew her family. Her parents were lovely people. Unfortunately, they passed away some years ago.”

“I'm sorry to hear that. Are you familiar with the circumstances of Julia's death?”

“Yes, we were all horrified by the tragedy. It was a shocking incident that saddened the entire community. The pain it caused her family was immeasurable.”

“The investigation into Julia's death has been reopened based on fresh evidence. DNA tests have revealed a connection between her and another woman who was murdered in a similar manner. They’re believed to be full siblings. Does Julia have an older sister?”

Mr. Lui’s brow furrowed, and he paused for a long moment.

“That's impossible. Julia's parents were not together for long before she was born. Her father had left the island to serve in the army and spent three years stationed in Vietnam prior to her birth. There is no chance of an older sibling.”

His certainty piqued your attention.

“So, her father was away during that time. Do you have any records that could shed light on Julia's family or explain the existence of an older sibling?”

The archivist’s voice was firm as he responded. Even without Marco’s translation you would’ve understood the statement as a denial.

“I assure you, there was no other child. Julia's parents were committed to each other and their daughter. The entire village would have known if there was another pregnancy or a sibling. It's simply not possible.”

You leaned closer, eager to see his reaction to your next words.

“Mr. Liu, we have evidence suggesting otherwise. We need to uncover the truth about Julia's past, no matter how unsettling it might be. Can you think of any reason they kept this information hidden?”

His head lowered, shoulders rising in symmetry as he frowned.

Liu stumbled over his words as he answered. Translating like you’d asked him to, Marco repeated his statement verbatim.

“I… I can't imagine why or… how such information would have been concealed. Our village is tight-knit, and secrets are rare. Not rare to be kept, but rare not to be noticed and revealed. If there's something hidden, it must have been for a grave reason and Julia’s parents weren’t that sort of people.”

“Thank you for speaking with us, Mr. Liu. We appreciate your time. If anything further comes to mind, please contact us, or the Virginia State Police, directly.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lloyd sat down across from Elliot. He didn’t totally disarm himself but rested the rifle on his thighs under the table.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Joe had a stash of drugs. A big one, according to Holbrook. He thinks I know where it is.”

“Why?”

Elliot rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been taking care of the ranch. Joe paid me for it. He could have hired a cowboy, but you know Joe. He didn’t trust people he didn’t know. The work brought me up here at least a couple times each week for the past three years. What conclusion do you think Holbrook drew from that pattern?”

“And? Was he right?”

“No! Damn it, Lloyd! It took me years to get clean, I wasn’t moving his drugs!”

Lloyd knew, given Elliot’s history, Joe wouldn’t have trusted him around the product. All the same, he had to ask, because one good look at his cousin tipped off Lloyd’s intuition that Elliot wasn’t as clean as he claimed to be.

“I don’t know about a stash of drugs. Joe never told me anything about his business and I didn’t ask. We barely talked, except for emails and text messages about the ranch. He always paid me on time and I appreciated the side income. That was it. But the Sheriff won’t let this thing go.”

Twenty kilos of coke, thirty of heroin, either would be worth more than a million on the street and small enough to hide in a carry-on case.

Lloyd sighed. “Holbrook has to go.”

“He’s untouchable.”

“If I learned anything in the past twenty years, it’s that no one is untouchable.”

“This isn’t London, or Berlin, or some fancy place you’ve been. It’s southeastern Idaho and Holbrook is the King.”

Lloyd grunted. “To be clear, you’re sure this stash actually exists? It wasn’t sold off years ago?”

“I can’t be sure, but Joe always preferred to have a backup plan.”

That rang true. A stash of drugs would’ve served as insurance against stock market fluctuations, housing crises, or whatever rattled the economy next year.

“Alright. Tell me about Holbrook. What’s his weak point?”

Elliot stared. “You’re serious?”

“Deadly. Who has a grudge against him? Are there any deputies on his payroll?”

“Aside from me, I don’t know of any grudges, but his department has a suspiciously high turnover rate.”

“Ex-associates? A disgruntled secretary? Jilted lover?”

“Uh… would a former drug dealer count?” Elliot asked.

“Does this drug dealer have a name?”

“Carl Shepherd. The Sheriff gave him carte blanche to deal locally, then the feds came sniffing around. Holbrook cut him loose and they’re not on good terms, but Shepherd says he has Holbrook in his pocket.”

If the dealer had two brain cells to rub together, he’d have exhorted Holbrook for protection. Lloyd begrudgingly approved of the plan.

“But he’s too scared of the Sheriff to flip on him.”

“Why bite the hand that feeds you?” Lloyd murmured.

His mind moved quickly, considering the various options available. Elliot grimaced.

“I’m never going to get out of this mess.”

“How do you feel about pulling a kidnapping? Say, tonight?”

“Uh… given how that worked out for you last time… lukewarm.”

“Oh, come on. I’ve turned over a new leaf. Carl Shepherd doesn’t have any ex-spooks overly invested in his well-being, though, right?”

“Not that I know of,” Elliot said.

“Great, then let’s get this show on the road.”

After some persuasion, Elliot agreed to the plan. He was nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs as he drove them into town in his rattle trap pickup. In contrast, Lloyd was bubbling with excitement, a feeling that intensified as they navigated the narrow lanes of the Oxiana Trailer Park. It was akin to the anticipation before a rollercoaster dropped into free fall - an exhilaration he’d missed from his old life but only realized now. Elliot parked in a shadowy spot about a hundred yards from Shepherd’s house.

He pointed to a gray trailer with peeling paint. “That’s his place. He drives a ‘68 Camaro.”

“Nice car.”

“Uh-huh. What’s your plan, again? You weren’t exactly clear about the how.”

“We’ll see how it plays out. Kidnappings never quite go according to plan.”

“You’d know.”

Lloyd snorted. “Shut up. I’ve seen your rap sheet, you’ve got no room to talk.”

“I was high for that stuff.”

“Yeah? Same.”

Elliot turned, resting an elbow on the steering wheel as he studied Lloyd. “Are you kidding? You were the quarterback, the golden boy. You never touched that shit.”

“I took Adderall to cope with test anxiety and smoked weed.”

“That’s your drug of choice? Adderall? Dude, that’s pathetic.”

“It started with light stuff. Weed, then Adderall. Senior year I started popping Xanax to cope with anxiety. At first it was just when I was struggling, then it became a daily habit.”

Elliot considered him. “I knew you were into weed, but not the rest.”

“Things didn’t get serious until I was at Harvard. I got hooked on pain pills after a football injury and when the team doctor wouldn’t give me more Vicodin, I bought Percocet on the street. From there I got into Ketamine, Valium, and Prozac. The market for drugs was thriving on campus, so I bought extras and re-sold it to the partiers. It didn’t take long before I was taking my own product.”

“Joe would’ve skinned you alive.”

“Beaten me to death is more likely.”

“What’d you get hooked on the most? Percocet?”

“Cocaine. I had a taste for Ecstasy, too. My main addiction was Coke, with a little Xanax in the mix. When I graduated and had the money for it, I got back on Vicodin.”

“Damn. You know what really shocks me?” Elliot asked.

“What?”

“You went for the cheap stuff. Coke? Back in the day, I could get a bag of Coke for like sixty, seventy bucks. Meth was like six times that much.”

Lloyd chuckled. “I’d seen what meth and heroin did to a person. Cocaine felt less risky and more… fun. Until I was in prison, I didn’t think I was addicted.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I kept a lot of secrets before. Now I try not to. Also, if you think I don’t get what it’s like to have your past catch up with you, I want you to know that I do.”

Elliot ducked his head, looking away.

Lloyd turned back to the road. They sat in silence for the next twenty minutes while the sun dipped behind the horizon. A car pulled around the corner with no headlights on and Lloyd squinted, trying to make out the model.

“Is that him?”

Elliot straightened up. “Yeah. That’s him.”

They watched as Carl turned into the driveway and parked, then walked around to the trunk to unload grocery bags.

“What now?” Elliot asked.

“Wait here for thirty seconds, then go up to him. Get his attention. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Elliot nodded and wiped his palms on his jeans. He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. Lloyd slid out of the truck and shut the door quietly. Keeping one eye on Carl as he took in the first load of groceries, he snuck through the neighbor’s lawn and around their house. Maneuvering through a hole in the chain-link fence he crossed into Carl’s backyard and used the cover of the peeling gray trailer to mask his approach. He listened to footfalls on wooden steps, then pavement, and gauged the distance. A truck door slammed and a moment later, Elliot’s voice rang out, calling a greeting to the drug dealer.

Lloyd burst from his hiding place and ran, aiming at Carl’s back. Electricity crackled as the taser found its mark. The volts sizzled in the air as Carl convulsed, then dropped to the pavement, unconscious.

Elliot jerked back, his face leaching of color.

“Holy shit! What voltage is that thing?!”

Lloyd smirked. “What’s wrong? Can’t handle a little excitement? Help me get him in the trunk.”

“You don’t mean…”

“Leaving his car here will arouse suspicion. If we take it, the neighbors will assume he’s out of town.”

“Maybe we should stop adding to our rap sheets while we’re still ahead,” Elliot suggested.

“I usually agree with the principle of only committing one felony at a time, but we’re on the clock here. Grab his feet, would you?”

Elliot groaned, but obliged, taking Carl’s feet while Lloyd guided his upper body into the trunk. He slammed it shut and grinned at his cousin’s pale face.

“There. Felony number six, complete. Although technically, in this state kidnapping isn’t a felony until you’re a hundred feet away from the property on which the abduction occurred. So, to be precise, we’re still in the act of felony number six.”

“You’re insane.”

Lloyd smirked. “Not according to my doctor. And given the circumstances, I think this was the most appropriate course of action we could’ve taken. Now, go on ahead of me and make sure everything is set up. I can’t speed with a body in the trunk.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You sat next to Marco, looking at the murder board.

Zach had set it up in the corner of the conference room and after the interview you’d migrated over here naturally. Your chairs were adjacent, facing the bulletin board like students in a classroom. Marco had ordered coffee and a late brunch for the both of you while you explained the details of the case.

“And they found the sister’s corpse right next to the first victim?” Marco said.

“Yeah. It’s mind-boggling.”

He shook his head. “What’s weirder is that these two are sisters, but the rest of the girls on this board are as different as night and day. Different hair colors, ethnic backgrounds, different kinds of jobs.”

You turned your attention to the victim’s pictures. They were organized by date of disappearance and below them was a horizontal timeline that stretched from left to right across the width of the board. There was a topographical map of the Fairfax area in the lower right corner, with colored pins making locations.

“There’s a variety in the women, but what’s mostly consistent is the age range, the manner of disappearance, and their social status.”

Marco leaned back, hooking his left ankle over his right knee.

“How do you investigate a case with so many missing variables?”

“You’re referring to the other six corpses?”

“The lack of them, specifically.”

His comment tickled a thread you’d been playing with since Singapore. Rather than answering, you stood up and crossed to the bulletin board. First, you untacked the sketch on the far left of the timeline. It was of the unknown victim - Julia’s supposed sister - and then took down the photo underneath her, representing her daughter. Then from the far right of the timeline, you untacked Julia’s photo.

You sat down next to Marco and faced the board again.

“What about now? Does that make more sense?”

His mouth tilted in a half smile. “I’m not the investigator here. How would I know?”

“Technically, Lloyd and Zach are the investigators and I’m their errand girl. You’re a fresh set of eyes. I’ve been trying to figure out how removing the sisters and the little girl changes things.”

“Do you see a pattern here?” Marco said.

“Maybe. If Lloyd were here, I’d bounce this off of him, but look…”

You laid the photos you’d removed on the table and returned to the board, pointing to the photo of the first woman to go missing.

“The first victim, Stacey Moore was twenty-six. She worked at an indie publishing house in D.C. and had just graduated from G.W with her master’s. She disappeared in June of 1999.”

You pointed to the next photo.

“Maya Sutton. Twenty-four. Tax associate at PriceWaterhouseCoopers, recently hired off an internship program, master’s degree in accounting from William & Mary. Disappeared in August of 1999.”

Marco listened as you ran down the list of victims, and reported their ages, jobs, and degrees. He was nodding along by the time you reached the last photo.

“The women were close in age. Twenty-three to twenty-seven, born and raised in the U.S. and focused on their careers. They were successful despite being young, and except for Lucy Lund, they all came from upper middle class backgrounds.”

“They’re all born in eastern Virginia, too,” Marco said.

You checked the notes and sure enough, all the victims had been born along the Virginia coast. The pattern was even closer than you’d realized.

“Good catch.”

You rehung the photos of Julia, her sister, and the niece, off to the side, separate from the serial killer victims.

“They found these victims. That doesn’t feel like an accident. If he made six women disappear without a trace, why leave three corpses in the same spot? And Julia’s body wasn’t even properly disposed of.”

“That deviates significantly from the pattern,” Marco said.

“And with the timeline laid out like this, it looks like Julia’s abduction occurs too early in the year. He’d abducted someone during the last week of May before, but Julia disappeared in April, which is a month before he usually began taking victims. There’s also a stopping period between the 1999 victims and the 2000 cases. In 1999 the last victim disappeared on September 3rd. In 2000 the last victim was August 15th.”

“Seasonal employees might be a good suspect pool to explore.”

“Removing the discovered bodies gives us a pattern. But when you add these three cases, it muddies the waters. I think we’re looking at two different crimes. A serial killer and… this mess with Julia, whatever it is.”

Marco crossed his arms, studying the altered layout of the board.

“You’re right. Julia really doesn’t fit his victim type.”

“She was too tall, not from the United States - and not from Virginia. She didn’t have a college degree, let alone a graduate degree, and didn’t work outside the home. The serial killer’s victims were ambitious, professional women. They were all under five foot five and didn’t weigh more than a hundred and sixty pounds, but none of them were exceptionally thin. The abductor seemed to pursue women of average build.”

“Julia was five-nine and weighed about one-thirty,” Marco said.

“Going off victim type, that made her not only too tall, but too thin.”

“What’s hard to understand is that he’d suddenly screw up a body dump after getting it right so many times. For his first victim, sure. He’s inexperienced. But doing it again with Julia, several years later… the only way it makes sense is if he put the sisters together.”

Goosebumps raised on your arms. If he put the sisters together…

What if the sisters’ deaths were connected? Maybe even to the serial killer, but not as victims who he’d hunted. Had they gotten in the way? Or was there something else, completely unrelated to the disappearances, going on at the same time? Was that possible in a town as small as Harmony?

“What are you thinking?” Marco asked.

“I think it’s two different cases. Everyone was waiting for the pattern from ‘99 and 2000 to re-emerge. They were mentally preparing for the next victim and Julia was the next woman to disappear. In a small town riddled with disappearing women, why wouldn’t they think she was part of the spree?”

“That’s logical, but the way you’ve explained it makes better sense. What about the sister and the niece? They’re an even bigger deviation from pattern than Julia. How can they be identified when there’s nothing to go on?”

“I’ll figure out something,” you said. “Lloyd won’t be back until Tuesday, so I’ve got time.”

“Where is he?” Marco asked.

You noted his demeanor changed when Lloyd’s name came up. His arms crossed, creating a subtle barrier between you, and the paper cup in his hand crumpled in his grip. His attention was riveted on you, belying the casual tone he’d spoken in.

“He’s out west, taking care of family matters.”

“Huh. So, Lloyd didn’t hatch from an egg?”

“You worked with him before, you’d probably know more than me.”

The comment slipped out, not entirely by accident. Meeting people who’d known Lloyd in the past alway stirred your curiosity. Lloyd’s life had been a series of transformations: a gifted law student turned cold-blooded intelligence officer, then a disgraced ex-spy who’d become a ruthless mercenary and landed himself in prison. You’d only known Lloyd after his metamorphosis into a law-abiding citizen. Discovering the previous version that had existed before was a constant source of entertainment. Gruesome entertainment, perhaps, but you couldn’t check your impulse to fish for information whenever the chance presented itself.

“Do you enjoy working with Lloyd?”

Marco’s question took you off guard.

“Yes. He was a bit of a pill at first, but then I discovered he could be charming when he wanted to be. After that, I made sure he had reasons to be charming.”

“What makes him want to be charming?”

“Rewards. Lloyd responds best to positive reinforcement. It works wonders.”

“Really?”

“He’s like a border collie. If you don’t keep him occupied and engaged, he’ll start chasing squirrels and digging up the yard.”

Marco chuckled. You pressed him harder.

“What was working with Lloyd like for you?”

He pursed his lips. “I knew him when he was on Zach’s team. They were doing God-knows-what in the same area where I was deployed. He was obnoxious.”

His fingers tightened on the paper cup, crushing it nearly in half, unaware of the action.

“Yeah. But Special Forces attracts a lot of obnoxious people.”

His lips twitched, and he inclined his head in acknowledgment.

“One day Lloyd showed up with extras. Tag-a-longs from Langley, I think. They assigned my team as their support crew. We were waiting at a checkpoint to help them exfiltrate, which should have been simple, but things went sideways and we had to extract them. Everyone was accounted for - except Lloyd’s extras.”

You watched Marco’s lips compress. His shoulders bunched and you read anger in the lines of his body and the set of his jaw. He’d crumpled the coffee cup flat. Silence stretched. You waited, knowing he’d eventually fill the silence.

Marco’s eyes flickered, shifting to internal focus. You could tell he was picking his words carefully.

“The most dangerous predators wear the most charming masks. Lloyd… Lloyd is a viper in Gucci loafers. He takes pleasure in manipulating people, especially emotionally. Lloyd comes across brash, but underneath it he’s malicious, with a ruthless streak ten miles wide. I’ve seen it in action. Trust me, his blood runs cold.”

You were silent, thinking of Lloyd’s revelations in Qatar. He’d cultivated a certain image in the intelligence community, and clearly, Marco had experienced it. Silence hung over the room as he continued to weigh his words.

“We were behind enemy lines at that point, but I offered to turn back and try to save the tag-a-longs. Lloyd laughed. Straight up laughed, and told me everything had gone according to plan. The agents had been on a one way trip from the start and he’d risked the whole team’s lives to dispose of them.”

“What did you do?”

His eyes flashed.

“I went back for them. One was alive. They’d slit the other’s throat. I reported the incident to command and got transferred to a different continent the next day. Later I found out the guy I’d saved died in the hospital because of a medication error.”

You nodded, studying his reactions. They were full of anger and distaste. Marco’s story was authentic and his emotions genuine. Defending Lloyd, explaining that he’d changed, wouldn’t help Marco. He’d known a different person than you did. That version of Lloyd had done terrible things without remorse and he was still capable of it, when pushed.

“Lloyd is charming, but be careful. He’s not trustworthy.”

“I appreciate the warning, and I’m familiar with his background. He’s changed a lot since prison. There are still rough edges, and the ruthless streak is still there, but the malice isn’t.”

Marco raised an eyebrow. “That’s an interesting conclusion.”

“If you want to say ‘bullshit,’ just say it. There’s no need to take that tone.”

“Noted. Why don’t we find something more pleasant to talk about than Lloyd? Say, over coffee? Or better yet, dinner?”

You wanted to accept, so you could find out more about Lloyd, but the invitation was clearly romantic.

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m seeing someone right now. Maybe another time.”

His lips curled into a rueful smile. Before he could speak, there was a loud buzz. Your heads turned toward the front door in unison.

“Where’s the video feed?” Marco asked.

“I think there’s one at the front desk.”

The buzzer sounded again. Who would visit Zach’s office on a Saturday? Anyone who had business being here on the weekend would’ve had a key. With Marco on your heels, you headed for the lobby. Behind the receptionist’s desk, you found a monitor discreetly mounted into the wall, displaying the feed from the hall. A man in a shirt and tie, with a gun holstered on his right hip, stood outside.

He looked into the camera and you recognized Detective Roth.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Carl Shepherd woke up with a headache. A second later, he realized someone had tied him to a chair with his hands cuffed behind him. There was duct tape securing the cuffs to prevent him from picking them.

“What the fuck?!”

“Well, well, look who’s awake. Had a good nap, Sleeping Beauty?”

His head swung, searching the darkness for the owner of the voice. A switch clicked and Carl hissed, whipping his head away from the 10,000 lumen work lamps that burned his eyes. His head throbbed in protest at the dazzling light and the quick movement.

“Fuck! What are you doing? Are you trying to blind me?!”

The beams from the industrial lamps were like looking at the sun. He squinted out of the corner of his right eye, trying to see his kidnapper.

“You can’t do this! I’m untouchable, damn it! I make one call to Sheriff Holbrook and you’re running for the rest of your lives. What kind of psycho are you?!”

“We’re the Canadians,” the voice said. “We’re here for a stockpile of drugs a former business associate of ours misplaced. Rumor has it you’d know something about it.”

He laughed. “Canadians? You don’t scare me.”

“I don’t need to scare you, but what should scare you is suffocation. Because guess where we are?”

Carl looked around, noticing the corrugated walls of the room.

“A shipping container.”

“Bingo. We seal the vents and shut the door and you’re dead. It’s not the lack of oxygen that kills you, it’s the carbon dioxide poisoning from your own exhalations. First, you get a headache, then nausea sets in and your heart rate spikes. You pant for breath, but you can’t get any, so you start to feel dizzy. Then vomiting, seizures, and finally you pass out before officially suffocating to death.”

Carl considered the threat. His kidnapper took this pause as defiance.

“I’ve run the numbers and given the volume of this container, the ratio of oxygen, the probable rate of consumption, and other variables, suffocation should take about 22 hours. Horrible way to go, trust me. I’ve seen it before.”

He could easily imagine the owner of the voice hovering in the shadows, wearing an oxygen mask as he watched his victim suffer. A long silence lingered as he waited for the kidnapper to continue.

“Alright, suffocation it is…”

Clothing rustled and the lights illuminated the outline of a man as he stood from a chair on the other side of the work lamps.

“Hey! Wait, don’t!”

“You want to talk?” the kidnapper asked.

“I can’t give you the drugs. You’re looking for Joe Hansen’s stash, right? I don’t have them, it was Deputy Russell who took them!”

- - - - -

Elliot leaned against the Camaro, staring straight ahead.

“We’re screwed. We’re totally screwed.”

Lloyd resisted the urge to point out that Elliot was screwed, not him. If push came to shove he’d kill Holbrook and slip out of town. That wasn’t something his cousin was hardened enough to consider. At the moment taking out the Sheriff might not be the worst plan. Elliot could serve as his alibi. After seeing how he’d handled the kidnapping, it was obvious he’d be a terrible accomplice, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t set Lloyd up for an acquittal based on reasonable doubt.

“Holbrook will never believe his right-hand man crossed him,” Elliot said.

“Deputy Russell is his second?”

“Yeah. Luke Russell.”

“Huh. I think I had a run in with Deputy Luke the other day. Is he partial to a pump-action rifle?”

Elliot’s eyes widened. “That’s him. How’s you get away?”

“Charm, wit, and of course, I’m too pretty to kill,” Lloyd said, and winked. “Listen, this is just a setback. We can work with this. The plan is the same as before - we get the Sheriff busted. Once he’s locked up, you’re in the clear.”

“How? We don’t have any drugs!”

“Tell me about Deputy Russell.”

“He’s careful. Paranoid. Kind of off-kilter, socially. When he tries to cover it up, he comes across as creepy. He’s almost as crazy as the Sheriff.”

Lloyd considered the odds that Holbrook had found another psychopath to partner with. Someone less polished than him, so he’d never have to worry about competition for his elected position. Birds of a feather flocked together, especially the unstable personalities with criminal tendencies, like Joe and Holbrook. They had remained allies for fifteen years before their falling out. Perhaps history wasn’t exactly repeating itself here, but it seemed to rhyme.

Joe and the Sheriff had gone from partners to enemies. Now, Holbrook and Russell’s alliance was approaching the same crossroads, and Elliot was caught in the middle.

“He wouldn’t move the drugs? Or check on them?”

“No,” Elliot said. “If he had the slightest idea we knew about the stash he’d destroy it. Russell is paranoid, in capital letters.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Lloyd mused. “Would he sell them?”

Elliot frowned and scratched his jaw. “Maybe. He’s in this for the money and a quick sale would cover his tracks.”

“Alright,” Lloyd said. “Here’s the new plan.”

- - - - -

Carl watched the two men enter the shipping container. His eyes had adjusted to the brightness, but he still couldn’t see anything but shadows past the work lamps. To his surprise, the kidnapper in charge stepped into the light. Dread curled in Carl’s stomach. If he was seeing his kidnapper’s face, that only meant one thing.

“What? What do you want from me?”

“Call Deputy Russell and tell him you found a buyer for the drugs.”

“Are you out of your mind? He’ll kill me!”

The mustached kidnapper sneered. He reached behind his back and pulled out a Glock.

“Listen up, Carl. You have two choices. Get us a meeting with Russell, or say goodbye to your kneecaps.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Detective Roth hadn’t spoken for twenty minutes. He sat with his arms crossed in the waiting room, opposite from you and Marco. The clock ticked loudly, counting off the seconds as you waited for Zach.

Marco shifted beside you, his leather jacket creaking. He’d refused to leave you alone with Roth. The protectiveness amused you, since you had no qualms about being alone with the detective, but Marco had taken an instant dislike to the man. It didn’t help that Roth had refused to explain the nature of his visit. He’d breezed in like he owned the place and immediately demanded you round up Zach, Bishop, and Lloyd.

Your phone vibrated with a text from Zach.

On my way up.

A moment later, the door opened, and Bishop entered, followed by Zach.

You did a double take at the sight of Bishop’s outfit. He wore khaki slacks and a novelty golf shirt that made the patterns in Lloyd’s closet look tame. His black polo was decorated in neon-sign print. Hot pink flamingos, lime green palm leaves, turquoise margarita glasses, magenta watermelon slices, and chartreuse pineapples covered the material.

For a man who wore nothing but white or blue shirts and neutral ties to the office, he apparently swung to the opposite end of the spectrum on the weekend. Next time you needed a gift for Lloyd you’d ask Bishop where he bought his golf shirts.

Zach pinned the detective with hard eyes.

“What brings you here, uninvited, on a Saturday afternoon, Roth?”

“Which one of you contacted the press?”

“Excuse me?” Zach said, tilting his head.

“Who leaked evidence to the media? If you speak up now, the punishment won’t be as bad. I’d recommend doing so quickly, because I’d rather not get angrier than I already am.”

“None of us would do that,” Bishop said.

Roth grunted. “What about Lloyd Hansen? Why isn’t he here?”

You answered. “His father died. He’s in Idaho taking care of family matters.”

You tried to speak neutrally, but despite your best efforts, anger sizzled in the words.

“The Rolling Stone ran a cover story on the unidentified victims of Shun Nguyen today. The highlight of the piece was that the recently discovered victim was found by the Xiarong crime scene, where she’d been lying undiscovered for the past twenty years.”

He paused, letting the statement sink in, then continued.

“A podcaster was waiting for me in the parking lot this morning. Guess what he wanted? He wanted to know how we could miss a second victim only a few hundred feet away from the first. That was a fun question to field at six a.m.”

Zach’s lips compressed and goosebumps rose on your arms as the shock settled in.

“Do you have any idea how much harder my job just got?” Roth demanded.

“Our job,” Zach said.

The detective snorted. “Given the magnifying glass we’re about to be put under, go ahead. Call it your case, please. It’ll keep a few reporters off my back while they chase you around.”

Zack and Bishop exchanged a glance. You wondered if you should mention what you’d learned from Mr. Liu this morning. Questioning the DNA test when Roth was already upset didn’t feel too smart, but you didn’t want him to think you were hiding information. One look at his tight-lipped expression decided your course of action.

“We weren’t the ones who contacted the media,” you said.

“We’ve had limited hands on this case in the department and only a few people knew the details published today. I trust all of those people. By default, that puts you all at the top of my suspect list.”

Roth looked around, studying each face.

“The only explanation is that someone in this room compromised the investigation. You betrayed your responsibility, mishandled classified information, and screwed me over. As of right now our cooperation is over. Until you hear differently, stay the hell away from my department.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Next - Chapter XV

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Masterlist

Tag List

@denisemarieangelina @before-we-get-started @buckysteveloki-me @patzammit @badassbaker @meetmeatyourworst @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @thiskindahotkindamusic @jesgisborne @charmingprincess @amiets2 @seitmai

@elle14-blog1 @chaoticsteverogers @kaleidoscopepov @fangirl-and-medstudent-help @terry2227 @jesevans @mjey12 @openup-yourmind @kandierteveilchen @adoreyouusugar @ultrasilentwhispers @awkwardgiraffe726 @pono-pura-vida @mysweetlittledesire @maylaysia109 @liecastillo @unluckyevans @marantha @literaturelove @babyevansblog @lizzzaaaaaaaaaaa @thegirlnextdoorssister@ladygrey03 @cynic-spirit @rosedpetal @roseeatta @pensieve-foryour-thoughts @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @bambamwolf87 @michalkasimp @namelesssav @yiiiikesmish @lavenderx0 @calwitch @peachiestevie @texmexdarling @here4thefanfics @rogersbarber

#the princess & the lawyer #the princess and the lawyer #series: the princess & the lawyer #lloyd hansen fanfic #lloyd hansen fic #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x female reader #lloyd hansen x fem!reader #chris evans characters #chris evans characters x reader #no minors #minors dni #the gray man fanfic #the gray man fanfiction #the gray man fic #lloyd hansen #smut series

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mochasenby · 1 year

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Seduction and Possession

Everyone knows of Elliot, he's the kindest bachelor in pelican town. He is the perfect gentleman. Or is he?

He doesn't know how it happened, but as soon as his eyes set on the new farmer, everything went downhill. She was his inspiration, his muse, and they're trying to take her attention away from him. He won't let that happen.

Tags: female MC, masturbation, praise kink, obsessive behavior, mentioned drugging, stalking, love poems, scent and panty kink, death threats, animal death (Shane’s chickens)

Part One

Find the whole one-shot on Ao3!

Seduction:

1: The act of seducing especially: the enticement of a person to sexual intercourse. 2: something that draws temptation. 3: something that attracts or charms.

“This isn’t working,” Elliot sighed as he crumpled up his draft. His head hung low as his hair cascaded down his face. “Still struggling?” Leah propped up next to him as he nodded.

“I just can’t find any inspiration for my work, and the deadline is coming up,” He groaned as she patted his back.

“How about you take a break? Mayor Lewis is meeting with the new farmer now, go and introduce yourself,” She smiled as Elliot nodded.

Bidding his goodbyes to Leah and Gus, Elliot stepped out of the tavern and into the crisp fall air. Goosebumps trailed down his arms as he approached the old farm.

I need to find something soon, my publisher is awaiting my book. He thought as he spotted two figures ahead of him. It’s easy to recognize Mayor Lewis with his stubby figure, but the person beside him he couldn’t recognize.

The new farmer? He wondered. He wasn’t up to chatting at the moment, but it would be rude to deny conversation. Elliot cleared his throat to speak, but the words died in his mouth as she turned around. The only words Elliot could use to describe her were angelic and exquisite.

She’s beautiful. Elliot thought as he felt his heart clench. He started to feel anxiety creeping up in his mind. The same kind of anxiety he’d get before a book signing.

“Oh! Elliot! Come meet (Y/n)!” Mayor Lewis called out as she stared at him. Y/n. The name was fitting for such beauty. He thought as he introduced himself.

“Hello, Elliot,” She smiled. Just hearing her speak sent shivers down his spine. The way his name rolled off her tongue made him feel euphoric. He needed to hear it again.

Before he could say anything else, Mayor Lewis cut in and rushed the farmer to say goodnight. Elliot nearly cursed the mayor in his head as she turned to him.

“Goodnight Mayor Lewis, Elliot,” She spoke again as he trembled again. His body moved on its own as Elliot lifted up her hand to his lips.

“Goodnight dear,” He muttered as he kissed her hand. The calluses on her hand were ignored as he breathed in her scent.

Her scent flooded his head as he repressed another shiver. Her face flushed a shade of red as Mayor Lewis laughed. Elliot ignored everything the Mayor said as he captured the look on her face in his memory.

On his way home, Elliot kept reimagining the look on her face. As he reached his cabin, a rush of ecstasy flooded through him.

His eyes widened as he ran toward his desk and yanked out his pen. His hand danced across his notebook as he wrote. Words poured from his fingertips when he froze.

What is this? He thought as he stared at his notebook. Where did the inspiration come from? He thought in wonder when her face flashed in his head.

Baddump. Baddump. Baddump. Oh, it was her. Elliot’s face turned a soft red as he pictured the farmer. It’s just a crush. He thought. Just a crush.

Elliot wasn’t aware of how wrong he was, and that this “crush” would soon turn into an obsession.

My dearest,

Ever since the first day we met, I was captivated by your beauty. You look as if an angel has come to bless my eyes. You are as if the goddess aphrodite was reborn again. Your voice echoes in my head as I crave to hear you speak my name. This love I feel for you is dangerous, as I fear I, a mere human, have fallen for such a goddess. I wait for the day we meet again,

- Elliot

The next morning, Elliot found himself at the old farm. He wanted to write more but he just couldn’t. He wondered if it was really her who made his mind flood with such a rush.

As he approached, he spotted the farmer hoeing her fields. His breath hitched as he stared at her with admiration. Even though she was covered in dirt and grime, she was still beautiful.

Her eyes met with his as she waved. “Good morning Elliot,” She smiled as his heart pumped faster.

“Do you mind helping me a bit? If you don’t mind,” He accepted her offer as she smiled. Elliot tied his hair back as he got to work. Hours went by as he collapsed on her porch.

“I’m exhausted, how do you do this?” He asked tiredly as she laughed. “It was brutal at first but you get the hang of it,” She grinned as his heart pounded.

“I wish I could have what you have, I love my job as a writer however lately I just can’t put pen to paper,” He sighed as she hummed.

“ Well, if it doesn’t work out, I can always use an extra hand around here,” She smiled as his breath hitched. She looked beautiful like this, her hair clinging to the sweat on her face as her face was flushed red from the heat.

Elliot coughed quietly as he tore his gaze away. “It’s getting late, I should be going,” He muttered as he stood up.

“Thank you for helping me today, Elliot,” He jumped as she grasped his hand and shook it. “I’d really appreciate it if you came back to help me another day,” She smiled as his heart warmed.

“Of course, my dear,” He kissed her hand as he bid her goodbye.

As Elliot left, he prayed that she didn’t see the growing bulge in his pants. I can always use an extra hand around here. Her words echoed in his head as his heart pounded. She was inviting him over. She wanted him there. She craved him as much as he craved her.

Elliot stumbled into his cabin as he hastily slipped off his pants. Shit. He softly cursed as he slowly pumped his cock. Elliot didn’t understand what was happening to him.

He felt like a teenager again, getting hard from just touching her hand. He moaned quietly as he thought back to the farmer.

This was her doing. An angel in the form of a human. She plagued his thoughts as he fisted his cock. He tried so hard to stop thinking of her, cursing himself for thinking of his newly friend as he masturbated.

But he just couldn’t stop. The more his mind began to think, the more it went deeper and deeper into lust.

How would she be if she was in my bed? He thought as he grunted. He'd be such a gentle lover. He wouldn’t be rough as she was delicate in his eyes.

He'd treat her like royalty like she was his queen and he was a mere servant. He'd be on his knees servicing her as her hands would tug at his hair while he consumed her.

Elliot moaned at the thought as his legs began to twitch. This is wrong. A voice muttered in his head. But it was drowned out by lust. He'd push his own wants aside to please her. He'd have her ride him, his arms wrapped around her waist as he fucked into her. The thought made him shiver as his chest heaved.

Praise slips so easily from his mouth as he leaves love bites all over her body. Just imagine how her voice would crack as he would force orgasm after orgasm out of her.

He imagined her crying out his name as he came with a loud grunt. His hips stuttered off his bed as he panted.

In his afterglow, a rush of inspiration flooded his mind as his eyes widened. He quickly sat up as he snatched his notebook. His hand moved around the pages as if it was possessed.

My dearest,

I lust after you. Every time we meet, I feel as if you are taunting me with those enchanting eyes of yours. Do you show those eyes to anyone else? I won’t allow it. I cannot allow it. No one else should see the goddess you are.

Even if it means I have to pluck out their eyes, I’ll do it. Because only I can see you. Only I should touch you. Only I should please you. I anticipate the day you allow me to taste you fully. I’m sure you’ll taste as divine as I imagined. I can only wait,

- Elliot

#elliot stardew valley #stardew valley smut #stardew valley #smut #mochasenby #elliot smut #stardew valley elliott #stardew valley elliot smut

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d3caynluv · 6 months

Text

FILM SUMMARY ... Two brothers meet a comprise.

CAST & CREW LIST:

ELLIOT SON .... JESS

HWANG YEOJUN .... JAY

NAM NAKYUNG .... THE GIRL

PRODUCED BY ... ANGELICO ENTERTAINMENT

DIRECTED BY ... ZASHA PETROVA

WRITTEN BY ... ZASHA PETROVA

DISTRIBUTED BY ... A24 FILMS

WARNINGS / NOTES: It is a horror piece, so there are horror themes. It's just creepy and off-putting, I don't think there's anything too crazy. Mentions of Murder. Attempted Murder. Guns. Mentions of past abuse. Mentions of death. If I missed anything, please let me know! This was supposed to be up on Halloween, but I was sick lol! A bit of a change of pace from the usual pieces but I hope y'all like it! Happy late Halloween!

She stuck out like a sore thumb.

“She's one of them city girls,” Jess told his brother, who was crouched beside him, brow furrowed with their daddy’s rifle held straight up between his knees. “You could always tell by their hair.”

“What you mean?” Jay questioned, both of them speaking in a whisper. The girl’s platinum blond hair stuck out against the forest's foliage, and her manicured nails felt the tree bark in front of her with awe-filled eyes like she’d never seen a tree before. Russ pointed to her from the brush they were hiding in.

“It's not real. That color don't exist naturally.” Jay had never thought about it like that. He craned his neck to look at the girl again, peeking from the brush to watch her again. She had been a pretty little thing. She was skinny, with a round face and big eyes that looked around at everything like a curious rabbit. She looked like a rabbit, Jay decided. He often compared people to animals, as animals were all he knew besides his brother and his daddy, who they had buried that spring.

Now, all Jay knew was his brother and animals.

“Her clothes are nice,” Jay said out loud instead of keeping his thoughts to himself. Jess craned his neck to look at the girl’s outfit, shrugging in disinterest. The brothers were dressed in their daddy’s old clothes that he wore when he was their age. The only item of clothing on them from this century was the bulky camo jackets they got for Christmas last year. It was their only present. Well, Jay’s only present. Jess got their father’s rifle because he turned twenty-five that year. That was the family tradition. Jay was supposed to receive the hunting knife when he turned twenty-five, another long-kept family tradition, but now, with their dad in the ground, Jay wasn’t sure if he would ever get that knife.

He wasn’t sure if he even wanted it.

Jay knew their father didn’t like him. He always reminded him that he was supposed to be a girl, and the fact he came out of his mama backward was what killed her. Jay carried the weight of his mother’s death on his shoulders from the time he was brought into the world. That was probably why they’re always slumped over.

“City girl outfit. She don’t belong in no forest.”

She was wearing a pale blue dress with little white flowers on it. Jay thought it had been pretty. He thought she was lovely. He couldn’t voice that thought, however. Jess didn’t like to talk in the forest too much. He said there was no talking when hunting. Jay hated silence. He’d rather be in a room that echoed everything he said back to him before sitting in silence.

Jay stared at the girl again, taking in her features this time. It had been a long time since he had seen a girl, especially one as pretty as her. Typically, girls like her didn’t just appear in the forest, especially clean and well-kept. The last time Jay saw a girl this pretty had been seven months ago, but she had been a mess by the time they had caught her. Bloodied, sweaty, and covered in dirt from running so much. Jay couldn’t stand it when they ran. It made everything ten times harder than it needed to be. He wondered if this one would run. Her legs were skinny and didn’t look like they could carry her far. The more he pictured her running, the more the thought of her being a rabbit solidified in his head. Jay gulps.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Jay bargained, looking up at Jess with his big brown eyes and a teasing smile to test the waters. Jess, who had just finished loading bullets into the rifle, looked at his brother unamused. Jay kept staring at his brother with an unweaving gaze until he cracked a small smile, shaking his dirty blond hair.

“Prettier than the last one.”

“The last one was a guy. Of course, she’s prettier,” Jay argued, looking over the brush to see the girl kneeling in the grass, plucking dandelions from the ground. “She’s like an angel.”

“No angel has platinum blond hair, dumbass.”

“You never seen no angel before,” Jay snapped, his head whipping back to look at his brother as he cocked the rifle back. Jay felt the fun begin to bleed out onto the forest floor, and a coldness filled him.

“You don’t know what I’ve seen.” Jay didn’t reply. It felt as if his words had turned into acid on his tongue, burning him as they tried to spill out, and it only made his mouth shut tighter. He felt sick. He always felt sick during this part. At first, the pain was bearable. He would ignore it and swallow it as his dad told him to do, but now, years later, he found the pain to be excruciating, as if someone was pricking at his tendons and pouring salt into his eyes. He couldn’t stand it.

He hated this part. The first shot had always been the worst.

Jay looked up at the blue sky, silently counting the big puffy clouds slowly rolling through the vast big blue. His brother’s fist landed on his arm, causing Jay to flinch before slowly bringing his gaze back down to lock with his brother’s hard one.

“You need to watch,” Jess instructed as he positioned the rifle, the butt of the gun against his shoulder. “It was the only way you’d learn.” Jay sighed at the same old excuse now ingrained in him.

He needed to learn so he could help provide. He had needed to learn to keep the soil prosperous.

Jay watched his brother look through the scope of the rifle, his finger on the trigger. Jay knew the pattern well now. Jess took a deep breath through his nose. It had been nothing new. There had been nothing new in this forest. There had been nothing new between the brothers.

He pulled the trigger. The shot had been silenced, but Jay still flinched, shutting his eyes tightly when he heard the girl shriek. A thud echoed through the woods, but only Jay and Jess were there to listen to it.

Jay had thought about that often. He, his brother, and the hunted were the only ones to hear what happened between them. No one went into this forest, only the ones called to it. Jay reminded himself of that often how the forest would call those whom they hunt to her. This was how it was all supposed to go. This was life.

Jess got up, slinging the gun over his shoulder. He towered over Jay, silently demanding him to follow. Jay could hear the girl sob and groan in pain, the sound of leaves rustling underneath her as he assumed she tried to drag herself away like they always did. Jay’s body felt hot and suddenly sticky, his guts feeling acidic.

Jay’s knees cracked as he stood, rolling his neck with a tired sigh as he dragged himself behind his brother. He stood in the brush for a moment, keeping his gaze on the leaf-covered ground, and studied the various shapes of the cracked leaves beneath him.

“Dammit,” Jay heard Jess grumble. Jay looked up from the ground and walked over to the girl and his brother. Jess had his foot on the center of her back, huffing through his nose as he looked down at the girl who sobbed and wailed against the first floor. It was a tragic sight, in Jay’s opinion. It made his face pinch and chest ache as he had just drank the cough syrup his dad would make him when he would get sick. Sickly sweet and thick as sap. It left his chest burning and stuck on his tongue for hours.

“I aimed for her neck.”

“You got her hip,” Jay pointed out the obvious, pointing to the wound on her hip that left a growing blood stain on her pretty blue dress that was rising with every thrash and kick of her legs. Jay tried not to look, but the exposed skin of her thighs was tempting, causing him to steal glances at the pale skin he’d never seen on a woman before. He had never seen a woman like her before, especially this exposed. It felt wrong to look at her for too long, as if he was tainting something he already helped destroy.

“No shit,” Jess snapped. Jay rolled his eyes at Jess’s tone, his gaze already adverted back to the girl’s face. Even when she cried, she was beautiful. He wanted to touch her. His fingers twitched at the thought of brushing her hair out of her eyes and over her shoulder. He wondered what the strands felt like. He would bet his left hand that her hair was soft and her skin smoother.

He could hear Jess rustle in his pocket for the hunting knife. Jay felt a chill run down his spine as he realized what he was doing. He quickly pulled his gaze away from the girl and stepped back, his heart racing. He knew what was about to happen. He had seen Jess do this a thousand times over to humans and animals alike, but this was no animal, and she was no human either. She was something different to Jay. The thought of Jess grabbing her by the crown of her head, pulling her up, and slitting her throat was too evil for Jay to bear. For once, it felt wrong.

Jay reached out abruptly, grabbing his brother’s arm as he shook his head.

“No,” Jay demands for the first time in his life. Jess is shocked but intrigued, his brows raised curiously at his brother’s refusal. “Not her. She’s different.”

“What’s so different about her?” Jess refuted. Jay wasn’t sure how to answer, but his gaze returned to the girl, Jess’s following to try and understand.

“Remember what dad told us? About our mamas? How he’d catch them so he could have us to keep feeding the forest?” Jay never liked the story of how his dad caught his mom. It was violent and grotesque, as was most of what their father did and said.

Truthfully, Jay never liked his father. He was like a sleeping bear in a cave, hiding and quiet but big and deadly when he wanted to be. He would beat the living daylights out of either of the boys just for holding the rifle wrong or looking at him for too long with a “funny” look on their face. Jay often thought about his mother and the pain she must’ve gone through when she was with their father. He thinks, in a way, he set his mama free from this life. He wondered if she would be proud of him.

Jess tensed at the mention of his mama but nodded. Jay nodded his head down at the girl.

“She’s perfect for that…Don’t you think? I think so. I know so,” Jay adamantly told his brother, nearly desperate at this point to keep this girl alive for no other reason than for himself. Jess looked near pursued, looking down at the girl once more before he dropped down abruptly to pull her hair out of the girl’s face to observe her features. Jess studied the girl intently before nodding his head in agreement. Jay heard the girl softly whimper the closer Jess got to her face, softly pleading for him not to hurt her, but her pleas in the slightest didn’t phase Jess.

He had heard it all a billion times over in every voice imaginable at this point.

“We’ll test her out,” Jess agreed. Jay couldn’t believe that his brother agreed so willingly. He wondered if it was his rigid approach or maybe he did see that the girl was special. Jay blinked his large round eyes at Jess as he stood up and backed away, finally relieving the girl of his weight off her back. Jess nodded down at her.

“Fix her up and get her back to the house. Make sure she don’t bleed out…Not yet, anyway.” Jess gave the girl one last glare before walking away, leaves crunching behind him. Jay watched his brother until he walked into the brush, letting it swallow him up and making him disappear into the forest. When Jess was finally gone, Jay looked down at the girl with a gulp. Her sobs had turned into soft whimpers, and her manicured fingers twitched against the soil as Jay looked her over.

His lips twitched into a smile, kneeling beside her with a soft chuckle as he leaned closer. His fingers brushed the girl’s hair out of her face with an awe-filled hum when he saw her face again. “An angel,” Jay whispered, his fingers brushed against her cheek. The girl flinched, a loud whimper leaving her lips even though his touch was gentle.

“I’m gonna take care of you, angel. Don’t be scared.” Jay didn’t know what made him say that to her, but he felt it was right.

Everything felt right.

#。 . * ⠀⠀ ( ROTTINGDEEPLY ) ⠀⠀ / ⠀⠀ CHAPTERS.#idol oc #kpop oc #kpop fanfic #fictional idol group #fictional idol community #fake kpop oc #oc girl group #kpop au #idol au #kpop addition #bts addition #fake kpop girl group #idolverse #fake kpop group #fictional kpop community

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realareturns · 8 months

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A translation of the June 7th 1996 issue of Saturn Fan magazine, the first time Reala was revealed! It has some interesting lore about Reala and his relationships to NiGHTS and Wizeman, and lore about Nightmaren in general. Kinda long so it's under the read more

NiGHTS has a new rival! His name is Reala!

Elliot, Claris, and NiGHTS are the main characters in “NiGHTS”. As the protagonist of an action game always has a rival, it turns out that a rival-like character for NiGHTS appears in this game as well. The character in the photo on the right is the rival. His name is Reala, who is a first level Nightmaren like NiGHTS. Incidentally, a first level Nightmaren is able to create the world by their own will, not by using a human's dream like other Nightmaren.

Photo: This is Reala. Unlike NiGHTS, who retains the innocence in his facial expression, this one has a very evil look to it.

The battle takes place in a nightmare created by Reala

Although he is a rival, Reala does not appear often in the game and is said to appear in specific dreams like the other bosses, which we introduced in the last issue. The dream is not a human dream, but a nightmare world created by Reala himself. The sky is beautiful but eerily colored, and the magical pattern in the sky is like a magic circle. This alone suggests that he is the complete opposite of NiGHTS.

Photo: The dream world created by Reala. The world of nightmares is filled with an indescribable atmosphere. This is the very essence of the world of dreams. This may be due solely to his personality. By the way, what kind of dream world can he create? [I’m assuming that “he” is referring to the render of NiGHTS above?]

The ability is even with NiGHTS!

Reala is a Nightmaren at the same level as NiGHTS.

So what we are interested in is what kind of ability Reala has. The picture below shows Nights and Reala are flying in the air as if they are chasing each other. In other words, Reala’s power is basically equal to that of NiGHTS in terms of flight ability. Although it cannot be confirmed in the photo, It seems that Reala can not only fly, but also use special attacks like the paraloop, and so on. There may be other abilities as well, but we are not ready to talk about them yet. In any case, it may be necessary to fight in a different way from the previous bosses.

Photo 1: They just have the same ability. Can’t help but do what you do?

Photos 2 & 3: As far as I can guess from the movement in this picture, he can also use flight abilities like the drill dash and other flying abilities, just like NiGHTS.

[for the text in between the photos] And drill dash!?

Photo 4: Watching Reala fly, I don't get the impression that he enjoys flying as much as NiGHTS does. Is it because of the Nightmarens’ inherent nature to instill fear in the human mind and enjoy it?

What is the relationship between NiGHTS, Reala, and Wizeman?

Reala has always been a Nightmaren. Along with NiGHTS, Wizeman, who controls Nightmare, created them to be his right-hand men. Because of their fundamental differences in character, the two are hostile to each other. Reala drove NiGHTS into the chasm between dreams. NiGHTS and Reala are almost the same and have been given the same abilities. In contrast to NiGHTS’ preference for freedom above all else, Reala’s character is brutal and cold. He is absolutely loyal to his creator, Wizeman.

[“The chasm between dreams” is also how the official US website describes NiGHTS’ confinement in the Ideya Palace.]

[No matter what I did, DeepL wouldn't translate the blue photo text on this one. It mentions both NiGHTS’ and Reala’s names, so I’m guessing it just describes how NiGHTS is stuck in the Ideya Palace because of Reala?]

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shion-yu · 3 months

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Wait for Tomorrow

My entry for the spot “Hospital” for @hurtcomfort-bingo. 2,271 words, TW for hospital, chronic illness, discussion about potential death of a parent. Ft. OCs Cliff (toyhouse) and Al (toyhouse), plus their respective partners Elliot and Theo.

The organ transplant unit reeks of hope and loss. There’s always someone who has just received something new and life changing, a very tangible second chance which is only thanks to someone else’s great sacrifice. There’s a little room that always has coffee and snacks, a room for meditating, a little gym, and a room that’s just for crying in. A huge window stretches across the entire end of the unit looking over the city providing sprawling views of the outside world: a world that people like Cliff needs to stay away from because it’s full of germs that could kill him.

Cliff’s thirty-one. He hoped he’d have more time to delay this, but he’d contracted aspergillosis at Christmas, right before Mia’s third birthday. Instead of celebrating his happy and healthy little girl on her special day, Cliff had been unconscious in the ICU, intubated. He’s only gotten to see her in person twice since waking up and it’s March now. Kids aren’t usually allowed on the unit because of the risk of infection. The doctor had let them break that rule twice, and Cliff knows he should be more grateful for it but he isn’t. He wants more, always more.

He misses his daughter more than he can stand. Elliot visits nearly every day and calls at least twice per day. He sends Cliff plenty of videos but it isn’t the same as being there. He watches Mia say new words only second hand through recordings and he’s not there to clap for her as soon as it happens. He’s not there to read to her and kiss her pudgy little cheeks goodnight. He wants to be there for everything, but instead he’s stuck here in this negative-pressure hallway. It’s a beautiful new unit, nicer and sunnier than any Cliff's ever been on before, and yet it feels like a prison.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he feels the couch he’s sitting on dip and Al silently hands him a tissue. Cliff mumbles a thank you and removes his oxygen to blow his nose, coughing into the tissue afterwards.

“Ugh. I hate crying,” he sniffles to Al. Al pats his back to try and comfort him, but doesn’t tell him it will all be okay. They’re both realistic enough to know that’s not always the case.

“Me too,” Al says. “Hate getting snot in my oxygen.” He smiles knowingly with a humor that only someone experiencing the same thing as Cliff could really muster. Cliff laughs wetly, dries his eyes and puts his nasal cannula back in. He clears his throat and tries to remind himself that things could always be worse.

Al is waiting for his second set of lungs while Cliff waits for his first. Al got new lungs fifteen years ago, he says, which was a pretty good run of it. They’re not doing so well anymore, but he tells Cliff that he believes the medications are so much better these days. Al never had any kids, but Cliff can see that Al’s wistful about that fact. He acts almost like a father figure to Cliff while they’re stuck on this ward together, although age wise he’d be more like Cliff’s older brother. Cliff thinks it’s funny - when he was nineteen he did a summer internship with Al’s partner, Theo, at Theo’s law firm. He vaguely remembers seeing pictures of Al back then and Theo mentioning his partner was on the transplant list, but it hadn’t really meant anything to him at the time. He’d just said sorry and never thought about it again. He hadn’t known back then how privileged he was to have that mean nothing to him.

Theo recognized him when he came to visit Al, shortly after Cliff had left the ICU and was moved to this floor. Cliff was being pushed down the hall by Elliot when they heard a voice say, “Cliff Barrows?!” It was then that they made the connection that the new patient Al had made friends with was the same person Theo had once been a mentor to. Cliff mostly remembers Theo as unabashedly gay, something he didn’t think was possible for a lawyer at that time. He looks the same now, Cliff thinks, just a bit older and his hair’s starting to go gray.

Theo asked Cliff if he ever became a lawyer. Cliff laughed and said, “No, I got sick and became a stay at home dad instead.”

Theo grinned at him the same way he had back when he was a teenager. “A dad!” He exclaimed. “Even better than a lawyer.”

Being a dad was better than being a lawyer, Cliff thought to himself. Being a lawyer was his dream and losing it had been incredibly painful at the time. Now, though, he can see it made way for other things in his life. He got back together with Elliot, they got married, and they had their beautiful daughter. Cliff wouldn’t have it any other way - except for the part where he’s stuck here, now. There’s no silver lining to this part, he thinks.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Al asks him gently. He has a way of saying this that makes it easy to confess everything, but also easy to say no if Cliff wanted to. He’s so calming and impartial. Cliff thinks he feels far better after his chats with Al than he ever did after therapy.

“Mia is going to pre-school in the fall. Elliot’s out visiting a few right now to see which one fits her. Both of us should be there, but it’s only him.” Cliff’s voice breaks sadly at the end of the sentence and he can’t say anything more.

Al nods. “That must be really hard,” he says gently. “I’m sorry you can’t be there too. I’m sure Elliot will make a great choice though.”

“Oh, definitely,” Cliff says. “I know that. But it’s not fair that he has to do it alone.”

“I understand,” Al says. He doesn’t have kids, but Cliff thinks he’s probably the closest person to actually understanding so he nods.

They stay there a bit longer just watching the sunset until they know they have to be back in their rooms at 7pm-8pm for shift change. Cliff doesn’t see the point, because every nurse on the unit already knows them and their details intimately, but nevertheless they insist on bedside report every twelve hours. Sometimes Cliff pretends he’s sleeping just so they’ll do it in the hallway so he doesn't have to hear all the depressing details one more time. He feels like nothing ever really happens, anyways. Sometimes he has good days, sometimes bad. He doesn’t feel the need to summarize further. Either way, he’s been here for months and won’t be going anywhere until they find him a pair of new lungs.

The idea that some poor stranger has to die for him to live bothers Cliff immensely, but since he’s had Mia he no longer questions if it’s the right thing to do. It’s not that he’s no longer morally confused, he is. But he’ll do anything to see his little girl grow up now, his role as a husband and a father the most important things to him in the world.

When Mia was born, that was the first time Cliff was actually happy to be in the hospital. She was so tiny, Cliff asked if something was wrong with her. No, they told him, she was perfect. He agreed. She was absolutely perfect.

Fatherhood suited Cliff far more than he had expected it would, considering his own parents had never been good examples. But as the stay-at-home parent and a perfectionist, Cliff naturally made it his job to do everything right. And in the process, he found he loved every moment with Mia, even the difficult ones. He kept her close to him and was always hyper vigilant about her wellbeing. He read many, many books. And every afternoon he’d tie up Rosie, their rescue dog, to the stroller and take a slow walk down the street. While their home was located in a nice neighborhood in Brooklyn, Cliff didn’t think New York City pollution was very good for either his own or his child’s lungs. However the socialization was important (for both of them) and more importantly, he wanted Mia to grow up to love people. He never wanted her to hide away from society like he had. And he never wanted her to doubt that her fathers didn’t love her and wanted to spend time with her.

He’s nursing a bad headache in bed when Elliot calls him to say goodnight. Cliff answers because he always answers Elliot no matter what. Back when they were younger Elliot barely left Cliff’s side when he had to spend long stretches in the hospital, but with their daughter it had to be different. She’s their priority, not Cliff, and they had promised to give her as normal of an upbringing as possible. Even with a chronically ill dad and famous papa. They had been doing a pretty good job of it, Cliff thinks. Sure she’d spent a lot of her early childhood in recording studios and doctors offices thanks to her dads, but she was happy and loved. That’s what mattered. It’s still what matters, but it’s so much harder when she doesn’t understand why one of them is suddenly nearly missing from their home, only available through video calls each night.

Elliot’s face pops onto the screen of Cliff’s phone. His black curly hair looks long and messy. He has dark circles under his eyes and Cliff’s heart aches knowing it’s his fault that he has to be a single parent right now. Still, his tone is cheerful and he smiles when Cliff answers. Mia is sitting in her chair at the dinner table behind him. “Hey babe,” he says. “It’s all dark, do you have the lights off?”

“Yeah, hang on,” Cliff says. He reaches over to turn on the lights even though they’re way too bright for his aching head. He squints at his family and puts on his reading glasses.

“Headache?” Elliot asks automatically. They’ve been married - been dealing with Cliff’s illness - for way too long for him not to know exactly what to expect. Cliff nods. “Aww, that sucks,” Elliot says. “Here, Mia will make you feel better.”

Elliot moves around so that Mia is in full view and can see Cliff on the camera. Her face is messy with grains of rice stuck to her cheeks. Cliff chuckles. “Hi baby girl. Dinner’s kind of late, isn’t it?”

“Daddy!” Mia squeals happily. “Rice and chicken and peas.” Cliff assumes that’s what was on the menu for tonight. It’s what looks like is stuck to her hands, anyways.

“I got home late,” Elliot explains, “Haven’t even showered yet. God bless Paula.” Their nanny, always willing to stay later than planned when she needed to. She was brilliant, but Cliff felt sad every time he remembered she was doing the job he was supposed to be doing.

“Lion!”

“Yes, Mia, good girl,” Elliot says, poking the lion on her bib that she was wearing. She laughs. God Cliff misses that laugh. It sounds entirely different in person - in person it’s like he can feel it with his whole body. “Cliff? Hello? Anything new?”

Cliff realizes he’s been zoning out for several seconds and shakes his head. “No. Nothing new. Same old boring hospital.”

“Boring’s not a bad thing,” Elliot reminds him. Yeah, Cliff thinks. He could be in a coma still, that’s true. But he’d rather be at home fostering Mia’s newfound love for lions this week. They talk for a few more minutes but Cliff’s head hurts a lot and Elliot can tell, even though Cliff doesn’t say anything. He and Mia blow kisses to Cliff through the screen. Cliff closes his eyes and pretends he can feel them hugging him.

Elliot moves to the living room for a moment to ask Cliff privately, “Are you okay?”

“I just really miss you guys,” Cliff said. He takes a shaky breath. He doesn’t want to cry again.

“I know,” Elliot says. “We really miss you too. But we never know what might happen tomorrow! Or the next day.”

Cliff nods. He’s not an optimist like Elliot is, but he listens to his husband. It’s the only way he can continue on here when there’s so much waiting for him at home. “I love you,” Cliff says. “Thank you for everything.”

Elliot’s brow furrows in concern. “Are you sure you’re okay? Why are you thanking me?”

“No special reason,” Cliff says, forcing a tired smile. “I just want you to know it.”

“Okay,” Elliot says slowly, a bit puzzled. “Well... thanks.”

“Don’t thank me for thanking you. Then I have to double thank you.”

Elliot laughs. Cliff’s relieved he took that worried expression off Elliot’s face. He doesn’t want to make Elliot worry about him more just because Cliff’s missing home while Elliot is working so hard to hold everything in their family together. “Goodnight, Cliffy. Go to sleep. I love you and so does Mia. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Love you too.” Cliff hangs up and he thinks about tomorrow. Another day of phone calls and the hospital and being far away from his family. He doesn’t know how long he can keep doing this, but he has no other choice. He’s never been so determined to stay alive. Mia’s growing up with two dads, not one, he tells himself. So he’ll keep waiting, forever if he has to.

#shionwrites #hurtcomfortbingo #oc: cliff #oc: elliot #oc: albert #oc: theo #hurt comfort #angst #hospital setting #whump #male whump #chronic illness whump #hospital whump #medical whump

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pinkeoni · 3 months

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elaborate on gay grover?! this isn’t hostile lol just wanted to hear your thoughts

I’m so glad you asked, anon.

Now I do want to put a disclaimer right out the gate that, it is always possible that I am reading something that is not the intentions of the writers, and am making connections where there is none.

But still, spoilers for the pjo show ahead—

So at the end of the season finale, we get a moment where Grover shows Percy and Annabeth his new searcher’s license, which takes on a VERY interesting form: A green flower growing out of his shirt near the lapel of his jacket.

(apologies for taking pictures of my laptop screen)

Granted I haven’t read the books in a while, so I don’t remember if this is how the searcher’s license manifested. I can’t find anything on it online, and after skimming through the last couple chapters in The Lightning Thief I can’t find any description of a green flower. Maybe it’s briefly mentioned in another book? I can’t remember.

But still, the use of a green flower, ESPECIALLY one close to the jacket lapel, is a VERY specific symbol in lgbt history. Particularly, it was famously used by Oscar Wilde and his peers to signal that they were gay men.

Here is Elliot Page from a recent MET gala, wearing a green flower on his lapel as an homage to Oscar Wilde:

Am I saying that this means Grover is gay? Like I said before, I could be misconstruing the intentions of the show, and I feel like I would need to wait to see what direction the show decides to take Grover. I know he has a girlfriend in the books, although this show has already proven that it isn’t afraid to make changes to the material.

After all, this isn’t the only meaning that green flowers can have. But still, the use of this symbol feels very specific, even if unintentional.

#pjo tv show #percy jackon and the olympians #anon #asks #grover underwood

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maleyanderecafe · 1 year

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Picture Perfect Romance (Visual Novel)

Created by: MurderDuck

Genre: Psychological Horror

This one is very strange and really depends on what your view is on different routes to see what exactly is going on. It has a very surreal and haunting storyline that mimics a bit of what happens in Tell-Tale Heart. I actually find the MC in this one refreshing since their optimistic attitude is quite humorous sometimes. It can be pretty surreal and ambiguous at times though, but I'll try to piece it together as best that I can.

The story starts with the MC to a coffee place to order something to drink. After finally ordering, they see someone come in asking to sit next to them. Afterwards this person will ask to take a picture of them and while leaving the cafe, they are kidnapped. They are woken up while wearing a bag over their head (which if they struggle enough can lead to their eye getting stabbed) and the person, Miller, introducing himself. Miller believes he and the MC are dating and soon after leaves to take a call. In this moment, the MC can attempt to escape their binds and look around the house. Here the MC can either kill Miller by grabbing a knife and stabbing him, attempt to hide in his room or look at the shrine that Miller has of them.

Going into the room can lead to either the MC jumping out of the window and dying, or hiding in the closet. If the MC hides in the closet, Miller will find them and the MC will beg him to keep them alive, promising to stay with him forever. Miller forgives them, and cuts off their legs so they can stay together forever.

Going to the shrine, the MC will hear what sounds like a baby screaming as well as a hole that's in the shrine. This leads to a secret entrance where the MC sees Miller crying over a picture of the MC. When the MC asks about what he's crying over, he mentions that the "babies" wanted him to kill the MC just like the others he's killed even though he doesn't want to. However, no matter what he says, you don't know what these "babies" are he's talking about. In the end the MC will leave Miller alone and he will either send a message to them or be taken by the police.

Not taking the knife can lead to the MC finding the key under Miller's bed, thus allowing them to escape. Leaving right away will allow the MC to escape, but Miller, knowing where the MC lives continues to stalk them.

If the MC were to lie about being quiet after Miller kidnaps them, the MC will scream and continuing to egg him on will cause Miller to inject the MC with some sort of drug, causing the MC to become euphoric. Flirting with Miller and even trying to coerce sex out of him will simply result in him them getting killed, telling the "babies" that they finally got what they wished. There's also a possibility of getting kissed, but the end result is the same.

The final and strangest thing is if the MC doesn't escape and simply allows Miller to take his phone call. Miller will take them to bed where they can either fall asleep or stay awake. Staying awake can lead to the chance of either killing Miller and escaping will lead to the MC successfully escaping and having Miller arrested. The strangest part is when the MC actually does fall asleep. When dreaming, they go to the cafe on a snowy day. They can only order "Elliot" and meet Miler wearing a strange mask. Miller states that they can either wake up, or listen to what he has to say about the babies. Miller explains that the house they're in is strange, and the stronger their love was, the louder the voices were. Miller reveals that he and the MC are the same, and that the MC never existed that they were the one who killed their partners. The MC realizes that their face was the person that Miller first killed, his first love.

The last ending is the thing that is the most surreal, since it recontextualizes the entire game and makes you think about what exactly is going on. Does Miller actually kidnap their first love or just a doppelganger? If the two are one in the same, does that mean this entire scenario is Miller/the MC's delusion? Are the babies just the victims that Miller had, or is he just living in the same lie over and over again? What happens in scenarios where Miller kills the MC, did he actually kill them, or is this some sort of delusion that represents his guilt? Is it the same when the MC kills Miller? Is what happens in the game what happens to Miller's first lover, or is it always a new victim? There's a lot of questions going on that are caused by this ending and it's interesting to speculate.

I actually liked the MC in this game because of how interesting their personality is, since a lot of different MC character's I've played in vns lately are generally far more cynical and depressed, it's a nice change of pace. The MC is really morbidly optimistic at times, looking on the bring side even when their legs are cut off, or even when they're eye has been stabbed out with a scissors. It makes the game a lot light hearted than other ones and I think it also makes it entertaining in a morbid way.

Miller on the other hand is an interesting yandere, especially if you are taking into account the dream sequence and that the MC and Miller are the same person. Miller in this case would likely be a delusional yandere, especially since he also seemingly can hear the babies that are crying. This is why I make the connection to Tell Tale heart, since it also seems like the babies are making Miller kill the people he's been kidnapping. Even if he's not hallucinating, I would say that he's at least some sort of possessive yandere, since in some endings he does cut off the MC's legs to prevent them from running. He also seems okay with dying if it's for the MC's sake and doesn't tolerate when the MC flirts with them, which is also rather interesting.

This game is very surreal but it is a very interesting concept and gives you a lot to think about. There are a lot of questions that aren't and it makes it an interesting experience. If you like more surreal yandere concepts, please give this a try.

#picture perfect romance #male yandere #yandere boy #yandere #recomendation #visual novel

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f0point5 · 6 months

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I'm kinda late today, but I still needed to put some thoughts on the last chapter in. :D

Is it just me or did y/n kinda revert back to her old ways when texting Elliot? She seemed to be rather closed off again. No emojis. Kinda short answers. Wonder where that came from lol.

I'm really looking forward to those next days and how this whole thing with Elliot going to COTA will go down. We still don't know whether she'll fly AirMax or commercial with her +1, do we? It's definitely gonna be interesting.

Why is noone talking about the dress she found? Was that actually a wedding dress store? She be cooking lol.

The messages between Max and Clara were sooo good! And it felt like there was more to unpack than meets the eye. Like there's always so much happening inbetween the lines. Again - maybe it's just me, but Max seems somewhat vary these days whenever someone texts him and starts off a little vague. His "is everything ok?" makes it seem like he's waiting for sth not to be ok soon. When it comes to y/n that is...

I loved that even though the pic Clara sent him probably made him feel things he'd rather not think about, his first reaction still was to ask what's going on and who took the pictures. Of course it's up for interpretation why that was. But I wouldn't write that one down to just jealousy. He was probably more puzzled, kinda shocked and maybe slightly worried for what's going on with her? I'd love to believe that was the case. Anyway the thought that he shouldn't be seeing this came only second.

"Who do you think they're for you ignoramus?" How much more clear can she be? Like didn't he get that at all? I'd love to get an insight in his brain because WHY would y/n do this for him? Like why would she want him to see her in underwear? What is his thought process here? Or does he honestly block out any of those thoughts completely? He's a rare species, let me tell you this lol.

Then what does Max mean by saying he's not the person to talk to about "this". About what? About y/n not being happy with Elliot? I mean I get that, like from his pov. But it was still an odd answer to give to Clara mentioning that.

And then there's still this thing he needed Clara for. You answered to an ask that Clara's "I know what you did Maxie" was her referring to that. But I'm still trying to figure out what it is. The post you first mentioned it was the same post in which Max asked Lando for the contact of his watch guy in Monaco. Please, help me out here with the cooking... are those two things connected? Because I believe that Max told both Clara and Lando that he doesn't want y/n to feel bad about it, that's why he doesn't want to tell her. With y/n's birthday coming up it could well be Max organising a gift, but if it was a surprise, then Clara and Lando (no matter whether the things are connected or not) would understand why Max keeps a secret. So there needs to be sth else... And the way Clara put that "I know what you did Maxie" in the messages it didn't appear to me as if it was anything bad for y/n or rather sth she'd feel bad about. To me Clara's words sounded more like she knew about sth sweet he's done for y/n, sth that again made her see what everyone else is seeing. But what do I know lol. This is really frustrating!!

On a final note... Y/n texting Max that she doesn't care about the others, she cares about him. The feeeeels. I read the ask about her putting him first - always. And those words are a perfect example of that. I don't think that's a problem at all. Because I really think there's nothing more beautiful then finding someone who'll always put you first and that going both ways.

The story on Clara's insta was a perfect ending to this post. I loved it. And she definitely did that on purpose. Good for her lol. She's just won herself like loooads of brownie points!

She was just icked out with him mentioning her birthday lol for sure she’s wondering how he found out.

She did indeed fly Air Max. But she has work stuff in the US to do so needed to go early and Elliot has work.

She didn’t buy a wedding dress lol.

What do you think her and Clara were cooking? Expand please.

Lol Max definitely was like “when she told me what she was doing today it wasn’t this so how did she get there?”. He was just confused. I don’t think he interpreted Clara’s message as Y/N took them for him, he interpreted it as Clara had set the whole thing up to get a photo to send to him. Clara is known to be a bit of a puppet master lol. Max was immediately aware that Y/N didn’t know he’d seen the picture.

I can’t say what he meant but he meant more than one thing but also only one thing.

Okay so, Clara was referencing the thing Max asked her for help with before Qatar. I won’t say what the nature of it was but it’s definitely something Max doesn’t want Y/N to know about (currently) and Clara was taunting him that if he didn’t play ball, she could always bait it out to Y/N. It was a low level threat from her and Max knew it. Which is why he asked her what she wanted, because they both know she’s got him by the balls.

Clara is…a force to be reckoned with thats for sure

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fuckinuhhh · 10 months

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Architectural Finds, 06/25/2023

Today's walk was short, I was just going in to DoBro to get some things from target but of course I had to stop and take some pictures along the way. Here are some architectural highlights from the walk there.

First were these row-houses along Fulton St, and this cool corner window aspect that the end house had.

Built 1882.

Located at 664-674 Fulton St these seemed like they were all the same architect save for the third house in at 668 that looked like it been rebuilt at some point or maybe covered with a brick facade.

You can see some of the rusting from the old Cast-Iron facade that was cutting edge technology in the day in the second picture.

Another row of houses that caught my eye were this row of brownstones with their beautiful ornamentation around the door frames. This is right around the corner at 109-117 S Elliot Pl.

I have no way of knowing if they were all built by the same owners originally as I cant seem to find any records for them online :/, but they were likely built around the turn of the last century 1890-1910 when this style of building was commonly constructed. It was likely that they were built by separate owners/architects, as their ornamental stone decorations aren't all exactly the same.

Moving on, A CHURCH! That's right I love a good ornate church and this one surely delivered. Just look at that gothic stone articulation above the entrance! Its so organic looking, it sends shivers down my spine just looking at it and I want to sink my teeth into it all in one.

Built in 1931 to the tune of the Hanson Place Central United Methodist Church, and today it sits abandoned, boarded up, and full of black mold.

The overall shape of the building is so interesting it has so much going on with its MASSIVE brick pillar motifs, likely intended to vertically gesture up toward the creator.

One source describes it as "Gothic restyled in modern dress, an exercise in massing brick and tan terracotta that might be called cubistic Art Moderne."

Someone with more theological architectural background could go further in depth than I can on it I'm sure, but it's always exciting to see the passionate attention to detail that a good cathedral has in it's architecture.

Next I don't know if I love this one but I just wanted to shout it out as having a BIG clock face! Like that thing is so high upppp it must be 100 feet in diameter!

Without even looking it up I'm going to take a shot in the dark and say this is maybe Brooklyn City Hall, or another government building??? It resembles the thing they're doing in all of the governing buildings I've seen up in Albany.

I don't particularly like this architectural style its boring and chunky in my opinion, but I have to say its not the ugliest thing I've seen. I respect the sense of radial symmetry its upper terraces and flanks suggest, and cmon you cant knock that clock.

Second to last, we have this red & black beauty. Love the Greek-Revival pediments on each wing of the building as well as the renaissance revival inclusions in the carved cords/ribbons hanging in between the pilasters.

After some research, this seems to be an old Schoolhouse built in 1892 that has unfortunately since been absorbed by the ultra-modern townhouse on the end of the street at 81 Hanson Pl and transformed into a massive painting studio/home by painter David Salle. Wish I could find more info on the original schoolhouse tho :/

(Second photo ripped from google images)

HONORABLE MENTION: Caught this Mansard Roof moment on my way into the subway station and oof, tug at my heartstrings this is cute.

Across the street from the dream studio/abomination this guy sits pretty at 83 Hanson Pl and is the only brownstone on the block with a cute hat (mansard roof).

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kix-mm · 1 year

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Hey! I saw you made a QnA a bit ago, and I have a question. We know a pretty fair amount about Branch himself, but i remember you mentioned he had siblings and parents, could you tell us a little bit about them? Thanks!

Of course! This is picture is a small hight chart from the time Branch was about 5.

Jacob, Robin, Roy, Barron, Allen & Elliot, Vincent, Dusty.

Info is here below!

Jacob, the eldest

He’s the one that’s considered the most responsible of all siblings, at time being more of a father to them than a brother, he was often the man of the house whenever his farther was traveling for work. He was one that followed the rules quite closely and yet wouldn’t be afraid to bend them or stray from the path even going as far as to stand up to his very own father and question the reason for certain rules. But as years went by there was a certain dread felt when they had to call for Jacob… He was a sweet soul despite how fearful his brothers were of him, maybe something about him was just unsettling? He never dared to ask… "Even mother seemed a little intimidated.

Robin, second eldest

Robin is one of the favorites of many, including Branch. He was born with scoliosis and never had it treated as the procedure was expensive and, in his eyes, quite unnecessary. He had a certain charm to his character, a great listener, and quite playful. He always had a calm tone and was known to be quite flirty both with men and women. He tends to drink a lot more than his family knows to keep his silly stories to himself...

Roy, third eldest

The troublemaker of the family. Drugs, fighting his family and dissappeaing for days without contact. He has no filter and can be quite a narcissist. He put very little effort into showing that he cares... The only person he seems to have any consideration for is his canary, not letting anyone near it, especially his younger siblings. That doesn't mean he doesn't care about his family, he yearns for Jacob's approval despite his rebellious actions and never spends a day thinking about how he almost lost Allen in a blind rage over as stupid accident...

Barron

Barron is the adventurous type. Usually, he was the one to make up the games so they wouldn't die of boredom. He was fast, strong, and brave. A hero to his little brothers and a knight in armor to his little sister. He was usually the one that got between people when things started getting physical, except when the adults were involved, then he'd make sure the little ones were distracted so they wouldn't have to hear all that he did when he was their age... Barron became blind in one eye but somehow sees things nobody else can... he sometimes struggles with what is real and what isn't, maybe it was due to his near death experience... that's the only thing he's scared of...

Allen & Elliot, the twins

Elliot was the first of the two, a bright and sunny boy who always had something to do. He was rarely bored and easily distracted by just about anything, taking the saying "watching paint dry" to a whole new level. Allen, on the other hand, was a sensitive lad. He had pretty severe autism, and he had trouble talking with most of his words slurring or lisping, he had a unique way with communicating with Elliot, since the two were inseparable they learned to communicate with each other that the others to this day have no clue on how they do it.

Vincent

He was born with several health complications, asthma,a poor immune system, and sensitive eyes. His “disabilities” are what got him so interested in medicine, reading countless books that were on a far higher level than the rest of those his age. His fascination, however, is what also leads him to severe germophobia and thanatophoia, a fear of dirt, infection, bacteria & fear of dying. Not only did this cause him to be far more anxious then the rest of his brothers but he also started becoming a household doctor of some sorts, giving his brothers regular checkups at first for fun, but eventually out of fear for their safety…

Dusty, the youngest and only sister

Dusty was everyone's little princess, the sunshine of the household, everyone adored and cared for her. She loved all her brothers and would always do her best to make them smile. She is mostly mute, only becoming verbal when she was feeling very high levels of emotions. Due to being the youngest and most loved everyone was always on the lookout for her and being extremely protective of her. She had a special kind of freedom the boys never had, but they worked hard for her to have it. It was all worth it just for her...

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normalaboutdntm · 7 months

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Signed programme from the London concert of Death Note the Musical ^.^ It reads right-to-left so this is the front cover!

[ID: a black programme which reads Death Note the Musical In Concert above the show's logo of an apple resting on an open Death Note. Ryuk's silhouette can be seen in a reflection on the apple and while the writing in the notebook isn't fully legible, one can tell it's the rules of using the Death Note. At the very bottom in small text it says copyright Tsugumi Ohba, Takeshi Obata Shueisha, Horipro. There are five autographs in golden sharpie. End ID]

They started selling autographed programmes on Saturday at the Lyric for not much more than the non-signed ones. I can't read the handwriting very well but I'm pretty sure they're signed by Light/Joaquin Pedro Valdes, Rem/Aimee Atkinson, Ryuk/George Maguire, and Misa/Jessica Lee. This particular programme is also signed by Sayu/Rachel Clare Chan, as I met her at stage door and she happened to have a pen. :) I really wish I'd thought to bring one so I could have gotten L/Dean John Wilson's autograph as well (I'm not sure why he didn't sign the programmes - maybe because Carl Mann also performed the role?) but you can't win them all I guess.

More described images of the programme and commentary below the cut. I am only including the "articles" so to speak and excluding the actor bios/ad pages because I don't have it in me to type up every bit of information in here. If you would like to see the extra pages and are willing to write image descriptions, DM me.

[ID: a text box that says "Welcome to Death Note: the Musical at the London Palladium! Tonight, we invite you to immerse yourself in the gripping world of Death Note, a story that has captivated hearts globally. With mesmerizing music, stunning performances and thought-provoking themes, our talented cast and creative team will lead you through a thrilling journey of morality, power and justice.

"As we make history at the iconic London Palladium with what will be the first ever English language performance of Death Note, we thank you for joining us on this unforgettable adventure.

"Prepare to be spellbound as the curtain rises, the music swells and Death Note unfolds before your eyes. . .

"Enjoy the show!

"Carter Dixon McGill Productions"

After the text box is a rehearsal picture. Light sings wearing a backpack and two femme actors who are also singing stand in profile next to him, holding books and wearing backpacks as well. Someone stands behind JPV almost completely blocked by him. End ID]

Two things to note here: the use of the manga font and the welcome message that specifies the Palladium. The rest of the programme mentions both the Lyric and the Palladium, so I'm not sure if the absence of the Lyric here is a mistake or if they wanted to preserve the original intent of the message, which is that the first performances at the Palladium were a really big deal.

[ID: A rehearsal pic of Light holding up the Death Note while L, Ryuk, and other cast members look on. A text box says " A message from Horipro, the original producers of Death Note: The Musical.

"The project to adapt the internationally acclaimed manga Death Note, published by Shueisha and created by Tsugumi Ohba (original story) and Takeshi Obata (illustrations), into a musical, began in 2011. Composed by Frank Wildhorn, who has collaborated with our company on numerous productions since Jekyll & Hyde in Tokyo in 2001, and directed by the renowned Japanese director Tamiya Kuriyama, Death Note: The Musical had its world premiere in Tokyo in 2015. Since then, it has garnered passionate, enthusiastic fans and has been performed multiple times in Japan and South Korea.

"Currently, HoriPro is presenting Harry Potter and the Cursed Child and School of Rock in Tokyo. Over the years we have had the pleasure of bringing numerous wonderful works born in London, such as Mary Poppins, Matilda and Billy Elliot, to Japan. It brings us immeasurable joy to now introduce a production originating from Japan to audiences in London.

"To everyone witnessing the start of Death Note: The musical as it ventures into the world, we express our heartfelt gratitude.

"We hope you enjoy the show!

"Yoshitaka Hori, HoriPro Group Chairman, President & CEO" End ID]

[ID: the panel from the manga of Light's heart attack. Text box that says, "Death Note Between Entertainment and Culture by Filippo Cervelli

"When Death Note originally appeared as a manga in 2003, it took its audience by surprise. The story of the genius high-school student Light Yagami chancing upon the magic titular Death Note, giving him the power to kill everyone on the planet just by writing their name on its pages, was a compelling tale interweaving magic with the urban Tokyo everyday environment. Dissatisfied with the judicial system, Light takes the matters of justice into his own hands, placing himself above the law and embarking on a journey to purge the world of evildoers. From this enticing premise Death Note then evolves into a psychological thriller, epitomised by Light's cat-and-mouse battle with his main antagonist, the brilliant and mysterious detective L. The numerous panels alternating the two characters playing mind games against each other, brilliantly written by Tsugumi Ohba and vividly drawn by artist Takeshi Obata, have left a long-lasting impression on the manga's readers. And yet, together with the compelling drama and carefully crafted dialogues, Death Note also struck a powerful chord in its audience, because no reader could remain insensitive to the simple yet fundamental question it asked: "What would you do if you had the power to change the world?" end ID]

[ID: the manga panel where Soichiro has just fired an empty gun at Light in the car and Misa and Light both look terrified but relieved. There are two pull-out quotes that say "Death Note has sold more than 30 million copies worldwide, making it one of the bestselling manga of all time" and "Death Note has successfully shown that manga aimed at 'kids' can treat very serious matters, too." The rest of the article reads: "Not only was Death Note a successful story, the context of its publication was conducive to its great impact. Japan's comics industry is heavily focused on serialisations in dedicated magazines, of which there exist a plethora, divided by frequency of publication (weekly, biweekly, monthly, etc.) and genre. Death Note was in fact published in weekly instalments in Shonen Jump, Japan's most popular and iconic manga magazine which, in its 55 years of history, has published global hits such as Jojo's Bizarre Adventures (1987-2004), Dragonball (1984-1995) and the more recent Demon Slayer (2016-2020) and One Piece (1997-). While the popularity of Shonen Jump contributed to the visibility of Death Note, it also placed the story in an unusual context. As the above examples show, Shonen Jump is famous for action, comedy and sports manga catered to an audience of mainly adolescent boys. Although the categorisation does not of course preclude readers outside of this demographic, Japanese magazines do take their target audiences into serious consideration when choosing their contents. It was therefore striking that a manga not based on humour, romance or battles, which focused instead on murder and psychological thrills, could find a space among the pages of Jump. However, this supposed misplacement worked in the manga's favour, inducing in readers a sense of wonder and curiosity towards a new publication that seemed so different from its neighbours. In the end, with a serialised run of three years (2003-2006), later collected in twelve volumes (plus one with extra contents), Death Note has sold more than 30 million copies worldwide, making it one of the bestselling manga of all time. It has successfully shown that manga aimed at 'kids' can treat very serious matters, too.

"Beyond the numbers, Death Note has left an indelible mark on contemporary Japanese culture. Its great success solidified the reputation of Oba and Obata as one of manga's most appreciated duos, who later produced other hits such as Bakuman (2008-2012), which takes an insider's look into the world of manga publiishing in Japan, and Platinum End (2015-2021), a fantasy manga following the stories a group of contenders who are granted angelic powers in a race to become the next God. Death Note proposes a protagonist who chooses to fight for his values in a society that does not seem to give any solid models of prosperity and fails to ensure individual happiness. While Light's motives might be despicable, his actions ask fundamental questions about right and wrong and about what justice really means, which may not find immediate answers. This is possibly Death Note's deepest strength.

"All these factors have assured Death Note's success. While the original manga is read avidly around the world even today, 20 years after its original serialisation began, the story has also been expanded and adapted into various media. Together with the animated series following the original story, a live-action film version was released shortly after the manga's conclusion in 2006. Split into two parts, the films starred internationally renowned Tatsuya (Battle Royale) and Ken'ichi Matsuyama (Norwegian Wood, Gantz) as Light and L, respectively. The films, featuring a different ending from the manga version, enjoyed such popularity that they spawned a spin-off film in 2008, L Change the WorLd, focusing on the titular awkward and brilliant detective. In 2016, another spin-off film was released. Titled Death Note: Light Up the New World and set ten years after the confrontation between Light and L, it imagines a new case in which six new death notes have appeared. Filmic adaptations have also crossed Japanese borders, with a US-produced film released by Netflix in 2017. The film transposes the story to an American high school setting, changing characters' names accordingly. The TV format has also proved particularly fruitful for Death Note, with the story adapted into a series of 11 episodes in 2015, featuring in the role of L Kento Yamazaki, known to Western audiences as the lead in the Netflix show Alice in Borderland.

"With countless adaptations to other media, including novels, videogames and trading card games, Death Note's cultural impact is still strong. Together with reading the original manga and watching the various cinematic versions, London audiences now have the possibility to enjoy the musical adaptation of the manga series, adding another precious layer to the multimedia experience of this staple of contemporary Japanese creativity.

"Filippo Cervelli is a Lecturer in Modern and Contemporary Japanese Literature at SOAS University of London." End ID]

This is all I can manage tonight. . . I'll be back with more later.

#death note the musical #death note musical #joaquin pedro valdes #dean john wilson #my post #death note

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kiltongrammarwriter94 · 9 days

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Could you please write a Cara Ward x reader where reader comforts Cara after Elliot is found out and arrested?? :) -☀️

Shattered Reflections

Pairing: Cara Ward x fem reader

Summary: you knew Cara wanted to be alone, most likely needed to be alone. But she had been alone for nearly a week now, and you were starting to worry. You hadn’t seen her at school, hadn’t gotten any messages back on your mobile and when Pip had mentioned with shaky trembling hands that Cara had yet to answer her back you knew it was up to you to go after her. Cara needed time, but she also needed looking after and while you knew Naomi was the best elder sister a young girl could ask for, you also knew she was fighting her own battles. There was only so much she could do. And as much as you were thankful for Cara’s grandparents all they could do was hold her close and provided a safety net. What could you provide?

Authors note: Absolutely adore Cara and wanted to get this anon this fic as fast as possible! I hope you enjoy it! It’s not nearly as long as my other ficts but I promise I am working on some long ones. I didn’t quite get to write cara as her humorous self in this so I look forward to that.

Warnings: Mentions of Sal singh’s death, Eliot ward mentions, emotional trauma, angry Cara ward, lovesick cara ward, just cara ward 😭🫶

The rain came down in a relentless torrent, each drop a whispered accusation against the world. Cara Ward stood at the edge of Mill End Road her knuckles white as she clutched her fingers together. The wind howled, tugging at her coat, urging her to step back from the end of the drive. Her drive . Number 42, Mill End Road Wendover. But she couldn’t—not when her entire existence teetered on the edge of revelation.

The headlines had screamed it—the truth that had been hidden for years. Elliot Ward, loved by the town, the man who had cradled her in his arms after her mother’s death, was no hero. He was a villain, a puppet master pulling strings in the shadows. Andie Bell’s disappearance, Sal Singh’s death—it all led back to him.

Cara’s heart pounded, the rhythm of betrayal echoing through her veins. She had loved her father, trusted him implicitly. He had been her anchor, the one who wiped away her tears and whispered bedtime stories. But now, the same hands that had held her were stained with blood, and the lullabies he sang were a haunting melody.

The rain soaked through her clothes, chilling her to the bone. She closed her eyes, picturing her mother’s face—the woman who had died years ago , leaving behind a void that even time couldn’t fill. Her mother had believed in Elliot, had loved him fiercely. And now, Cara wondered if that love had been misplaced, if she had known what he had been capable of.

The rain began to stifle her, freeze her fingertips to bits. But she didn’t care, didn’t move an inch. “Does pip know your out here? She’s been calling, left a dozen messages. In all honesty I think she’s going mad not hearing from you”. Cara didn’t need to turn to know whose voice it was. The soft cadence that flew through the air was filled with childhood memories. Games of what’s the time Mr wolf. Of sleepovers that lasted far into the night and often consisted of pip telling some random facts as you giggled alongside Cara and her impressions of her year 4 teacher Mrs Linton.

She should have known you would be the first person to find her. She had snuck out late into the night, her grandparents too old and deaf to notice and Naomi dealing with her own grief locked away to bother checking wether Cara was asleep. It would only a matter of time now before Naomi would peek her head into the room and notice her gone. Cara wondered if you had texted Naomi, been sent as some sort of lookout. But Cara didn’t need a look out what she needed was her mum. And she was long gone now, departed from this earth, the only sign that she had ever lived being the bones that laid beneath the church cemetery. Cara almost chuckled sardonically, what a morbid thought, but she was use to them by now.

“I read her message and I’m not responding” Cara spoke, her voice frigid and lacking her usual gusto. You could feel your heart shatter as you eyed the girl. Her back to you, but you could still feel her. Could still feel the storm that raged in her chest like a hurricane. You had been left shocked after finding out about Mr Ward. He had always been kind to you. Ever since you had gone home with Cara one afternoon after primary school, and Mr Ward and greeted you with a small smile and a hoard of fatherly jokes that made Cara hide her face in the backseat and Naomi have a laugh.

“I didn’t expect you would” your voice was soft over the rain, you knew Cara wanted to be alone, most likely needed to be alone. But she had been alone for nearly a week now, and you were starting to worry. You hadn’t seen her at school, hadn’t gotten any messages back on your mobile and when Pip had mentioned with shaky trembling hands that Cara had yet to answer her back you knew it was up to you to go after her. Cara needed time, but she also needed looking after and while you knew Naomi was the best elder sister a young girl could ask for, you also knew she was fighting her own battles. There was only so much she could do. And as much as you were thankful for Cara’s grandparents all they could do was hold her close and provided a safety net.

What could you provide?

You sighed, your lips feeling chapped even though you had applied some clear cherry lip lacquer. A nervous habit you had contracted after years of being by Cara’s side. You can remember a young seven year old Cara who use to swear that lip lacquer was safe to eat and often would lick of the residue from her lips with a giggling smile.

“I’m not here to make you talk Car” you began, wringing your hands, “if I’m honest….I’m here because I couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone. Ever since I can remember we’ve been as thick as thief’s and-I care about you. A great deal. And I know I could never take away your pain or make it go away, but what I can do is be your side. Even if you howl at me and throw me away. I know your angry. I’m angry. Your father…” your voice trembled. You could see Cara’s shoulders shaking as you mentioned Elliot. Her shoulders moving in a rapid movement, her soft sobs leaving her.

“Your father deserves what he got. I know you feel that way too, but I also know you are his daughter. His flesh and blood and while you can’t look at him and call him that you can’t quite forget”.

“My father murdered a young boy y/n” cara spoke, her voice angry and brittle, “he murdered him and then made Sal take the blame. After he knew what he had done with Andie! He knew what he was doing was wrong but because of his stupid negligence and horny disgrace of a man he did it anyway!!” She barked out.

“Mum would have been-“ cara could feel her tongue halt, what would she have been? Appalled? Hurt? Betrayed?

Cara sucked in a breathe, the rain easing just enough that she could eye you as she finally turned. She hadn’t smiled for days, hadn’t felt the urge. Almost as if joy or happiness had been washed away from her. Like a toy being stripped of all of its parts until only the core remained. But here, watching you, with your sweet kind eyes and hair that flew down to your shoulders dripping with rain that puddles onto your cheeks and onto your lips. Cara could almost feel the way her eyes tilted to watch the raindrops fall down those lips, and she allowed herself too. As a distraction, as a treat, and perhaps some part of her had yearned to reach out and press those soft lips against hers, to feel the supple smile against her own, she reckoned they were smooth, flexible. Warm. Hot. Searing.

She was sure you could take it away. The pain. You took her quiet as a sign, moving closer until your watered down trainers were inches from her own and your eyes bore into her oak eyes. “Why’d you come here Car?”. To anybody else it would seem like a stupid question, a question that if anybody else asked would have made her livid. But you, you had phrased it like you were interested, like you wanted to be inside her head, to know why she had chose this house. Cara knew you knew, but she also knew you were always one for listening. The observant one since childhood.

Cara eyed her fingers which were frozen from the rain, “it was the first place I thought of, of where my family was happy. Yes mum was sick here, those memories hurt too, but it’s a bittersweet type of hurt” Cara spoke, “I came here because I wanted to see my home. The home my father hid that poor girl in. My mother would have knifed him most likely” Cara spoke, a laugh falling of her lips. “She was a Firey woman. Always making jests when the time didn’t permit it”.

Like someone you knew.

You listened, intently. Sitting beside Cara as she spoke. Her memories, her fears, her anger. You sat and listened. You knew it would take time, but you were more than happy to give her your time.

“Can I ask you something?” Cara had spoken. You nodded, a soft smirk taking over your lips. “You can always ask me something car”.

“Even if I ask you to help me murder my father and burry the evidence?”.

You blanched, and once you watched Cara’s face thick was amusement did you laugh, your cheeks red.

“Anything but that ward”.

A soft smile filled Cara’s features, a small one at most. But you were glad for it. Cara’s smile had inched down and you watched as her brows remained forward, her deep dark honey eyes now focused on your mouth.

“If I kiss you will you move away?”.

The words had made your heart beat. Made your stomach jolt and your head shake. Vigorously. You couldn’t lie and say that ever since Cara had told you and Pip you had been aware of your own sexuality. But you were far to shy to ask.

Cara was soft as her nose brushed yours, her hot breathe feeling warm from the way your cold limbs felt. Her lips were cold, freezing. But that didn’t matter because you could feel the way your chest ached. Your fingers wound in her hair, pulling her without meaning too. A soft gasp fell into your lips as Cara without thought backed you up against the wall, her eyes dark.

“I love you”.

The words were rushed, but you could have cried.

“I love you Cara Ward” you spoke, and Cara only brought you close, finally hugging you. “Please don’t leave. I don’t think I could get through this without you” she confessed. You held tight, “but you could. You could Cara.”

Cara pulled away, hands holding tightly onto yours.

“I wish I could” was her broken response. You only held her as she cried, cradling her head and kissing her skin. Cara clung tightly, like in an instant you would fade. Like all the people in her life. But as long as she had you, her tether she would be strong. She had too be. Even if it broke her.

You must have both stood out in the rain for hours, and once the rain grew too cold to Handel you pulled Cara to her feet, swiping the rain of her cheeks with a soft hand. Cara leaned in, breathing you in as she peered into your eyes.

You knew she was thankful. Could feel it in the eager way she kissed you, like you were oxygen and she hadn’t breathed in years. Cara’s kisses were soft as they plunged against yours. And you felt lightheaded as her fingers trailed down to your cheek, caressing like you were the most precious jewl.

“You’ve got me bloody falling for you y/n” she uttered, pulling away. But right when Cara was about to pull you into her to utterly ravish you a vibrating pocket halted you.

You could see the flash of annoyance on her features, but Cara relented when she eyed the screen. Pippa. You smiled, encouraged her. “She’s been waiting by the phone like mad Cara. She would have ringed more but she was at hospital”.

Cara’s eyebrows rose, “why was pip at the hospital?”.

You only pointed to the phone, “I’m sure pip will tell you all about it sweet girl”. The pet name made blush appear on the girls cheeks but you only bumped her waist, “go on”.

#cara ward #Cara ward x fem reader #agggtm #a good girls guide to murder #asha banks

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richardsphere · 1 month

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Leverage Redemption Log: The Unwellness Job

We start this episode in a room with an expository camera-pan past some pictures and boxes of MLM herbal remedies. --- Client is a doctor, suspects its an autoimune disorder. All tests are inconclusive.

what in the heck is a "maven"? (google says "expert or connoiseur") Parker will be too busy with the International part of the branch to do much in the first few acts. --- Our marks are Bronwyn and Melanie. (former is Influencer, latter is about to have a medical licence revoked)

"have you ever fought a shark" Breanna, do you even need to ask?

Well, the rabbit hole is working off some pretty evil word association. Lets ensure that by the end of the day, half those words will be coming from Bronwyn's own mouth.

I side with Breanna, what is with the knives today? --- Ok so we're introducing a third mark: Bitcoin Bastard. Because we really needed a second pyramid scheme in this plot. (im worried this'll get cluttered quickly)

Bronwyn seems actually excited by the idea that nanobots are real. Privacy is dead, and Breanna is absolutely right: Her generation doesnt know what it means because Sophies generation killed it. --- Elliot is playing a slightly-creepy pseudo-hippie? ("i listen to their eternal song" feels verry... serial-killer-ey? but then anything with "eternity" sounds like "death" so i guess its just that)

"sweet nectar" like its the way he says it, definitly intended to be creepy.

No Melanie, dont apologise you are the only sane one here.

I legitimately didnt recognise Breanna until i rewound the scene cause i was like "who the heck is Zazi?" --- I like Sophie's yellow jacket. Classic divide-and-conquer, plead to Bronwyn's ego, make her remember how she's too good for Melanie. Honeyed handshake (of eternal life... they're definitly setting up Elliots character to be some kind of serialkiller. Would be a good scandal, but also... kinda likely to backfire if she just backs out and becomes the Hero of the Beautyscene by outing her competitor as a serialkiller....) --- Parker has grown enough in the timeskip that she now refuses to push people off roofs unless they have roof-jumping-training. Good for her. --- Bitcoinbro wants to use the MLM to harvest private medical data. Because of course.

Sophie is actively hating herself every moment she spends with Bronwyn. --- You launched too early. She hasnt yet said anything that would associate herself with Hank specifically, just with bees and honey in general. You've given her an enemy to rally against to become more succesfull by claiming that her honey-based products are different from Hanks.

unpaused the episode, i was right. (though she's not selling honey but stinger-juice). Good quick thinking on her part though. 10/10. --- I absolutley agree with sophie, stealing thoughts in exchange for ones and zeroes, where's the style, the panache.

"I've been keeping up on my evil-lawyering reading" 7/10. Sophie pulling the "only one who really understands", Harry doing the Accountant Special

Breanna's digging a little burrow of her own (and she's a good digger) Even if he didnt go down it he'd still be paranoid (because he's guilty of moneylaundering and doesnt want to get caught) so its only really a cherry-on-top but its a well-crafted one. --- Melanie is in the studio so Breanna needs to distract her. Time to turn an inside man.. Peggy and Hurley mention! Crowd going wild!

Chad is bringing his armed goons to the table. (certainly gonna help Sophie turn Bronwyn against him) --- "Eivor is gonna have to kill you" Well... Guess thats one way to ensure that Bronwyn cant ever run her little scam again, get her to turn on Chad and force her into witness protection, it'd be hell for her the same way it was for the car-enthusiast in the original series. Worse then prison or a fine, (those would actually make her more popular. She'd just brand herself as "persecuted by the system" and a "controversial truth-teller", but if she's on the run from Chads Murdermen... Well, goodbye influencer status)

Oh sophie is pulling the "we're conmen and you're just our mark"-excuse. Which is technically true but as long as you make them think you're after something different then your actual goal, you continue to mislead them. Now Melanie is going to give us the data, Breanna is switching it out for the virus, and 40 mllion bitcoin goes down the drain.

--- Back at the Theatre the team has caught on to Sophie's Missing Person Status. Melanie calls Zazi. "Hank" is coming to help.

"that would've stung, huh" obligatory joke. (also we're about to pretend to lose the fight. the fight is a distraction while we switch the drive for the virus) Honestly, this might be the most humiliating way of taking down a goon yet (and im counting the Looney-Tunes Hole from the Sheherezade job in that. Beaten unconcious with a Qwynneth Paltrow Dildo while getting stung by bees is a humiliation you do not want in your armed-goon resume.) --- Ah we're not switching drives by feigning a loss. We're knocking Eivor out and just bringing a fake drive. Much simpler and it doesnt force Elliot to take an L for dramatic fake-out. Also yes, Harry is good at what he does.

that is a pen. That isnt even an EMP its a stopwatch app used as a distraction while the database whipes itself. --- Oh magnetic phone-covers to pretend them sliding in the car. Didnt know they made those. (but then, i dont use my phone that much, nor do I own or drive a car)

And the look on his face when he realises what he just did to himself.

And i guess im right, Bronwyn is going into Witness Protection which means she cant work as an influencer ever again. --- Back at the theatre Client and Melanie are working together to create a plan to actually help the people whose medical data Bronwyn took.

Parker once more becomes the most relateable character ever by outright admitting that for over a year, she didnt know Elliots name, only remembering it when other people used it.

"Janice" is in her own personal hell.

--- "you dont need my validation, but I will offer it" is such a dynamic. 10/10 line.

#leverage #leverage redemption #leverage redemption season 1 #the unwellness job

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webbywatcheshorror · 10 months

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The Bye Bye Man (2017)

The Bye Bye Man. This movie has been meme’d to death, and I’m sure, if you’re reading this, you’ve at least heard of it. I first watched it for my 100 Horror Movies in 92 Days challenge in 2022, expecting it to be the kind that doesn’t take itself seriously. But it does.

The Bye Bye Man tells the story of three college students that move into a fixer-upper of a house and unleash an unstoppable force of evil that comes for you once you know his name. Now on paper, that sounds like a solid premise. In practice.... well, we’ll get to that.

Review under the cut, and as always, SPOILERS AHEAD!

The Bye Bye Man is a tragedy. It contains so many good bits and pieces, but they aren’t quite assembled right- like a puzzle missing some pieces, and somebody painted over some of the others.

It has a decently strong opening- Leigh Whannell murders his way through a quiet suburban neighborhood, gunning down friends and neighbors while shouting about a name that shouldn’t be said, and sometimes muttering the tagline- don’t think it, don’t say it. Nice and intriguing, good First Kill.

Even going into the next sequence isn’t bad- meeting our core protagonists, setting up the scenery, establishing backstories, etc. A bit slow, but it works fine. The slow ramp-up of the upcoming horrors is pretty decent, too- the scene with the kid opening one door while the Hound creeps silently out of the one behind her was nice and eerie! Not to mention one of my favorite tropes in horror movies- Spot the Thing. I managed to find him in mirrors and shadows at least four times before his big reveal, but there’s likely even more I didn’t catch.

The concept itself is promising! An entity that stalks you but only after you know it exists, and the more you think about it, the closer you are to death! That fucking RULES! I’d be so fucking dead! Trying not to think about something, especially when that thing is toying with your mind constantly? An impossible task for me, and a story genre I will always love.

The breaking of the protagonists is also fairly decent. Elliot, the main protag, is adorably in love with his girlfriend, and is so close to the other character John, they consider each other brothers; by the end, they’ve turned on one another, driven mad by hallucinations and suspicion. Heartbreaking stuff, honestly.

There’s a post that’s been going around on Tumblr lately about phones and horror movies, and how instead of simply not working, they could be utilized to invoke more horror as working devices. The Bye Bye Man actually has a good example of this! There’s a scene where one of our protags, trying to ease his mind, is looking through pictures on his phone, when he is treated a series of pictures of the titular entity, who taunts him.

So if it has all these elements, why does it not deliver?

Firstly, the name. Now, I know the original tale (both folk tale and published book edition) also has him named the Bye Bye Man, but reading it and hearing it just have very different vibes. Reading a story about a malevolent spirit with a goofy name? Sure, I can let my imagination run with that. Hearing people say it out loud with their mouth? It just doesn’t land for me, no matter how hard I tried.

It’s possible that it COULD have landed, with some tweaks to the movie: more instances of characters unintentionally saying it, or hearing it as an auditory hallucination; even the way it’s said might have heightened its fear factor. Here, try this- say The Bye Bye Man as though you are reading the title of the movie out loud. Now, say it slow, hesitant, breath shaky and as though you’re forcing yourself to stop saying it. There’s a noticeable difference, yeah? Well, mostly, we only get the first example. Even just a slight pause between each word gives it a different feel, or at least it does to me.

There’s few tropes in movies that annoy the piss out of me more than miscommunication/straight up lack of communication that drives the plot/drama. I know our protags are college kids, and as such are prone to reactions rather than sense, but it’s incredibly irritating to me. Had they stopped to think for like, ten seconds, they might have even survived.

The fact that they’re still kids might explain why they kept making the same mistakes over and over- constantly forgetting they can’t trust what they hear or see, automatically assuming the worst of people they’re supposed to love and trust, continuing to say the name OUT LOUD even after they know it’s dangerous. Ok so most of these sins are committed by the main character, but they’re all guilty of them at some point or another.

It’s possible, too, that much of their nonsensical behavior can be chalked up to supernatural influence. And it’s also possible that I’m far more paranoid than your average person. But talking and acting INCREDIBLY SUSPICIOUSLY in front of cops at a crime scene wherein you are a prime suspect? And then, when confronted by Carrie-Anne Moss’s character, Elliot continues to be suspicious as all hell. Don’t imply you have something dangerous to hide in front of a cop! Why would you do that!?

I also feel like they could have established a few more details that would have given more impact to the eventual character breakdowns. Elliot’s jealousy fueled hallucinations could have been even better, had he stated outright earlier that he trusted his best friend and girlfriend, instead of unconvincingly denying being jealous when his older brother points out the other two dancing during the party scene. Subsequently, his struggle to maintain that implicit trust would have been more impressive, as he is bombarded with hallucinations that imply they’re having an affair, including a full on vision of them having sex in front of him.

That being said, I do like that they set up Elliot’s fatal flaw early on- his cocky overconfidence. During the séance scene, he keeps smugly dismissing any mention of the supernatural as being illogical and beneath his consideration. When he later realizes how to keep the Bye Bye Man at bay, he lets this small victory feed into his ego and he seems to think he’s no longer in danger; he is quickly relieved of this notion.

His solution, when you really break it down, would never have worked long-term, at least not for him. Simply do not fear the entity! He thrives off of fear, much like Pennywise. With a name that silly, this should be easy, to be honest. (In my initial livetweet thread, I toyed with the idea of calling him The Baby Man.) However, unlike the dancing clown, denying him the fear that powers him only makes him get more creative. Upon returning home, Elliot immediately falls for another one of Bye Bye’s tricks. Shouldn’t have challenged him. You fool.

The Man himself is a decent looking monster, played by the wonderful, incredible Doug Jones; but despite the sounds and signs that precede his arrival, we never learn anything about him. Why the coins? Why the train sounds? What’s up with the Hound? Was he once a living person? The original tale has a few answers, but they are nowhere to be found in the film, which is a shame, because it could definitely have benefitted from the knowledge that Bye Bye created his canine companion out of the body parts of his initial victims, and it’s true name is the Gloomslinger. That’s fucking rad!

This movie feels like it drew inspiration from Candyman and Final Destination, in that there is power in a name, and once you’ve drawn its attention, there’s no way to escape it. The world itself will twist until you’ve fallen victim, no matter how clever you think you are. It also reminds me of an OLD, OOOOOOOOLD creepypasta that featured something similar- some sort of entity that hunts you down once you’re made aware it exists. I can’t remember much about it, other than the final line was something like “I’m so sorry. Now that you know it exists, it’s coming for you.” (If anyone knows what I’m talking about, please let me know, but be aware that I read it well over 10 years ago and cannot remember anything else about it.)

Lastly, I want to mention that I enjoyed the way it ended. Our protags are dead, as well as everyone they told his name to. With no way to spread his evil, Bye Bye should be defeated- then we’re treated to Elliot’s young niece saying she found the nightstand with the name carved into it. The wheel keeps on turning, and what a shame- but no, she couldn’t read it in the dark. THEN, we find out that John, the best friend, has survived the house exploding (how tho), and the movie ends as he whispers the name to Carrie-Anne Moss, thus ensuring the cycle continues.

I give this one five ghosts outta ten. The framework for a great movie is there, but ultimately, it failed to achieve what it set out to do. I do believe, however, that had this movie come out in the 80s, it would now be a cult classic, and considered genuinely terrifying. Then again, if it had, we’d have been denied another instance of Leigh Whannell’s character dying horrifically, and that’d be a shame.

#the bye bye man #horror movies #movie review #webbywatcheshorror #webbyreviewshorror #carrie anne moss #doug jones #leigh whannell

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