#that it's someone still perfectly sympathetic to my parents because he's a family man who just didn't know better and wanted to help | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mirage-coordinator · 2 years

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🖊

send me a “🖊 (+ an OC, if you want a specific one)“ and i will talk about OCs!

it felt a little bit irreverent to do the joke about the extra-big emote and then talk about the Tragedy Sinks among my ocs so i'm going to do a three'fer special on this one, and talk about the umezawa family.

jesus christ heed the readmore on this one it’s really long

it wasn't always pure doom and gloom for them. tomoe was a hasty concept, thrown together for an rp group. her father was always deeply depressed which resulted in her being saddled with too much responsibility too young, though he did not yet have a name nor a second child. it's a little embarrassing to look back at now that i'm a competent writer, but i suppose we all start somewhere!

the current chronology of their family goes back further than seikyo umezawa, though it is with him that i set the stage for their tragedy. the umezawa funeral home and crematory in amakusa has already been around for generations by the time he is born into it an only child, his future already carved in stone. it's not something he terribly minds, growing up around it, but the nature of the family has always been self-sacrificial. tending to the needs of others in their most vulnerable moments is a crucial skill to have in such a business, certainly, but the values they instill leave seikyo as being… rather spineless, to say the least. he begins his formal training straight out of high school, and completes it in a timely manner. this is just as well, as only a few years after he becomes qualified to handle the business is he suddenly inheriting it when his parents die within a mere few months of each other in his mid-20s. while he had a knack for helping others through the grief of loss, he was not very well equipped to handle his own - especially considering the position of responsibility he had just been thrust into

still, he managed. it was not pretty, and keeping things afloat was difficult while struggling with his grief, but he managed. a few years pass, and a particular funeral comes to pass. mr. itou was not someone seikyo knew personally, but he could not help but notice the severity of one woman's grief once the services had concluded. as was in his nature, he prompted her to speak if she felt it would help her - and she wept, wept about how the man was her uncle who had been the only family who ever truly cared for her, and that she had almost missed the funeral because she had such short notice about it. she said that everyone else in the family had tried to keep her away from seeing the only person who cared for her one last time out of spite. this was, unfortunately, a fabrication - kokoro itou had indeed not been invited to the funeral, but it was because her family had long since cut ties with her for her manipulative behaviour. her uncle had died leaving considerable wealth behind, and none was left to her - hence, the scene she was causing.

but seikyo didn't need to know that. he would never find out.

she played to his sympathetic nature perfectly, worming her way into his life. the umezawa line had a considerable amount of wealth to them, and she insisted on taking him to dinner to repay him for the kindness he showed during her time of need. one thing became another, months turned to years, dating turned to marriage. kokoro was not terribly pleased about moving into the upper floors of a literal funeral home, but as a 'compromise' she asked if she would be able to remodel the master bedroom to her liking. seikyo, wanting to do whatever it took to keep her comfortable, saw no reason to fight such a request.

about a year after the marriage came the first child, tomoe umezawa. she took after both parents in eyes and hair, and for a brief time it seemed this would only bring them closer. kokoro doted on the new baby while seikyo continued his work, but she quickly became bored with how much work a family was going to be. she accused seikyo of caring about his work more than his family, and despite the hours he already worked, he wound up as tomoe's primary caregiver. he was already exhausting himself, but considered it a worthy sacrifice to ensure his family's happiness. when tomoe was four, a second child was born, one who took quite a bit after her mother and not at all after seikyo. everyone knew kokoro had been having some sort of affair, and quite a few were surprised by setsuna's birth. seikyo was not a stupid man, but he was a spineless one. he said nothing, quietly suspecting that it would fall on him to make sure setsuna still knew she was loved.

seikyo does most of the work raising them. kokoro occasionally takes them out, moreso to show off with the friends she’s made than anything. it is a symbol of how difficult motherhood has been, but how well she’s done and how lovely her daughters are. seikyo was overworked, overtired, and sacrificing everything just to keep the peace in a quickly fizzling marriage, with the girls spending a significant amount of time with him. in the morgue, in his office, death and grief becoming familiar friends to the sisters, who themselves began to develop a strong bond. the fighting became worse, kokoro would throw and break things, and she only became more violent from there. tomoe, at 11, was already learning to herd setsuna out of the way when she sensed things were about to get ugly. the two learned from their father that sometimes, things are bad, but there is always a reason that things happen the way they do.

(a lesson that the youngest would take to heart, far stronger than anyone ever intended.)

setsuna was always a bright face in the house alongside her gloomy sister and father, and dissatisfied angry mother. she was, for her part, mostly oblivious to how bad things were. they tried to protect her from the worst of it. tomoe had learned to keep her head down and stay out of it, but setsuna had not developed the same kind of tact - she would begin to notice, soon, and just distracting her with ‘mortician work’ would not be sufficient soon enough. there were always holes that needed digging, though, and setsuna was thrilled to have a job all to herself. when tomoe sensed things were getting bad, she would send setsuna out to do some digging.

tomoe, for her part, had thrown herself into her practice by the time she was 13. she was suffering far more stress from taking care of her sister than she let on. she kept quiet and kept to her work, not wishing to further burden her father. between the caretaker role, her work, and the conflict between her parents, she wonders if there isn’t more she could be doing. the guilt weighs on her, but she resolves to make sure her sister never has to feel the way she did.

their estate was vast, and setsuna would spend her free time ‘looking for treasure’ in the thick woods surrounding their home and associated graveyard. when setsuna was 11, she had a serious accident on one of her little adventures. she was scurrying around, tripped, and fell into an open grave and straight onto a pile of stones. her left knee took the brunt of the impact, and shattered. it was a miracle she could drag enough dirt in to drag herself out and hobble back home, in the most intense pain she had ever felt in her life. her shovel was her greatest comfort and helped her support herself, at least a bit. long past dark, she finally made it home, called out, and received no answer. she collapsed, exhausted, at the bottom of the stairs and drifted off.

she was awoken by her father, panicked, and her sister, frantically afraid. the two had left to look for her not fifteen minutes before her own return, and their paths had not crossed. they were so, so glad to see her, but their relief was short-lived as they saw the state she was in. at this moment, her mother emerged - surprising setsuna, who hadn’t known she was home, and kokoro, who seemed more annoyed at having been disturbed than anything. a foreign emotion crossed seikyo’s face - for the first time in front of the children, he was angry. he quietly said he was taking setsuna to the hospital, and asked tomoe to please help her sister up. the eldest hesitated, looking to see if their mother would follow, but did as she was asked when she saw kokoro was not going to be coming.

setsuna requires major surgery to piece her joint back together. she will live the rest of her life with chronic pain and moderate arthritis in the joint, as well as screws and wires holding it together. she is mostly distressed she will not be able to do her favourite hobby as she is required to rest until she is better, and tomoe is distressed because all that resting means she can’t send setsuna outside to distract her from the familial tension. setsuna was excited to be home. everyone was there for her discharge. but when they returned, the ice thawed from the fire that was now breaking out. things were frequently loud. fights were more frequent. seikyo was still a pushover, but having seen how his wife reacted to their daughter’s injury, he knew he had to at least try to finally stand up to her.

tomoe brought setsuna to the basement as often as she could, conveniently needing someone to ‘help’ with her mortician work as much as setsuna’s limited mobility would allow. the younger was getting an inkling that something in their home was very, very wrong, but she didn’t really understand. she was happy not to. tomoe did everything she could to mitigate it, but in the grand scheme of things she was ultimately powerless. all she could do was try to reassure setsuna that sometimes, things happened for a reason. she, herself, did not really believe in this. but setsuna found it comforting.

(another nail for the coffin of her guiding philosophy.)

by the time she was 12, she was back to digging. she would never be as agile as she was before, but she still very much enjoyed her work. she was out late last night after having excused herself from a dinner that turned very, very ugly to go dig. she stayed out until well past dark. when she finally came home, she wasn’t even halfway up the stairs to their residence when she heard the screaming. the argument from dinner had only escalated since then, and kokoro was acting even more aggressively. she spat venom at seikyo as setsuna crept up the stairs unnoticed.

she’d had enough, she screamed, she was done with this shit, she was going to kill him. make it look like a suicide - lord knows all her friends knew he was depressed, and he had no close friends of his own. nobody would be surprised. she would get his assets, sell the estate, and keep everything for herself. setsuna could see that her father was terrified, but even when it seemed he feared for his own life, he just asked what was going to become of his daughters. even when he was sure that the woman with the weapon was going to kill him, he couldn’t stand the idea of putting himself first in his thoughts.

in that moment, all setsuna could see was that her mom was going to hurt her dad, and she wasn’t going to let it happen.

a moment seemed like an eternity. kokoro advanced, as seikyo noticed his daughter entering the parlor. before he could say anything, before she could turn to look, setsuna had run up and swung the blade of her shovel at the side of her mother’s head. the flat side connected with a resounding CLANG and the woman crumpled to the floor, hitting her head again on the way down. tears welled in Setsuna’s eyes as she trembled, shovel clattering to the floor as she reached out to hug her father. seconds passed as he tried to comfort her, blood running cold as they both realized kokoro was very dead. setsuna had hit her just perfectly, and if the first blow didn’t do her in, then the second on the way down sealed her fate.

seikyo thought to call the authorities, but setsuna, terrified, begged him not to. she didn’t want them to take her away. seikyo hesitated, then suggested that he take the blame. have Setsuna make the call, and hope they would accept that he’d done it in self defense. she didn’t like that, either - what if they took him away forever? no, she had an idea! she dug a lot of nice holes, right? they could hide her in one of those, and nobody would have to know. seikyo didn’t think it was a good idea. setsuna clearly didn’t understand the gravity of what she was suggesting, and yet...

... even kokoro’s friends would likely not think too hard. even for the favourable image she tried to cultivate, they knew she was rather fickle and capricious. it wouldn’t be a complete shock if she ran off without telling anyone, right...? tomoe was asleep, passed out from exhaustion, dead to the world in her own right. nobody else would ever have to know. seikyo had only grown so much of a spine, and he went through as many prayers as he could while setsuna buried her mother, asking for salvation for them both. the official story when tomoe asked was going to be that kokoro had stormed out after an argument, and nobody had seen her since.

days passed. a missing persons report was filed. no foul play was suspected. tomoe wondered, again, if this was somehow her fault. if she had just held things together a little better. worked a little harder. done the one key thing differently, that maybe it wouldn’t have ended the way they did. setsuna tried to comfort her, echoing that everything happens for a reason, even when it’s sad, to minimal avail. it was more so for her own sake - if everything happens for a reason, then there was a reason to kill her mother. it was okay, that way, as it was destined. there was some reason for it, even if she couldn’t see it. seikyo seemed to only sink deeper into his own depression.

years passed. the family moved on. gradually, though, both physically and mentally seikyo became less and less able to work, and more and more the business fell into tomoe’s hands. she weathered it in diligent silence. everyone was suffering so much, there was no need for her to add her weight to the pile. she took to conversing with the corpses as they were prepared, beginning to regard them as her only true friends and confidants. she had, perhaps, the most self-awareness about it. she knew it couldn’t have been healthy for her, but they were some of the best listeners she knew. it became a regular habit even if she had no preparations to conduct to drop into the morgue just to talk about her day, her feelings.

at 20, now a legal adult, tomoe left to pursue her proper training. she would be gone for a little while, but the others promised they would manage. setsuna and seikyo far from had it. setsuna was completely unsuited for the work tomoe had took on, and her father wound up overexerting himself to keep up with the demand. they tried to get by as best they could with tomoe gone, but towards the end of her education, it was getting to be too much. he had been sick, and was only getting sicker.

[cw suicide]

his mental health spiralled - worn down by his guilt and depression, feeling completely hopeless, he lamented his selfishness and made an attempt on his own life. setsuna found him, half-dead, and called for help in tears - someone had attacked her father. she was scared. he was too weak to explain, and it was only in the hospital afterward that she learned the truth. and, she was furious.

why, why would he try to do that? why would he try to leave her all alone? things were supposed to happen for a reason, so why would someone try to take it into their own hands like that? her guiding philosophy suggested that things were just out of their control, and there was nothing they could do if they wound up raising a hand against another, but this? that had all been him. perhaps it was because it challenged her own justification for killing her mother, threatened to bring her own coping mechanisms crashing down, but whatever the cause, most of the respect setsuna had for her father vanished. she would no longer acknowledge him as her father, and barely as a person she shared a space with.

[cw end]

tomoe returned home as quickly as she could upon learning the news, and was stunned at what she saw. her sister’s radically changed attitude, the dire state of her father’s situation. she was exhausted the first day back, running double duty to get business back to a more functioning state and taking care of her father. setsuna was happy to see her back, and couldn’t understand why her sister seemed more frustrated and tired all the time now. tomoe tried very, very hard to not be upset with either of them, but her frustration was beginning to boil over. her father had failed both of them at every step of the way - he had been their caretaker, certainly, but he was a spineless coward of one. and her sister should never have been left with any sort of responsibility.

it was so, so unfair to her.

it was so, so unfair to all of them.

there are things that come next but for writing purposes i usually like to leave them around htis point, in the tense state, at ages 18, 22, and 56

#roarkposting

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river-bottom-nightmare · 3 years

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Gimme them “dick the master manipulator” hcs plz I love them

i love them too babe they may be a bit ooc but they are near and dear to my heart all the same

part of the reason wayne enterprises is doing so tremendously well is largely because of bruce’s kids. tim’s got a perfect mind for business, especially when he works with luke fox. but one of the things that turned the company from an generational, stiff business as forgettable as the hundreds of others just like it to a national giant was dick dick, who went to all of the fundraisers bruce asked him to go to with a skip in his step and a smile on his face. dick, who told stories in his most childlike voice about how good it was living in the manor, and how grateful he was, and how he wished every kid like him could have the same wonderful opportunities. dick, who went to functions outside of gotham with bruce and, with a couple bats of his eyes, was able to secure a whole new group of investors. dick, who remembered all of these high class men’s wives’ names, who flattered them the way only an earnest little kid could, until the wives were telling their husbands they simply had to partner with bruce, because any man with that splendid of a kid was worth knowing. dick, who doesn’t like business work and stays away from wayne enterprises and curls his lip when he thinks of the kinds of men bruce rubs elbows with every day, but was essential to the company all the same.

see, the thing was, wally’s parents weren’t very nice people. that’s not to say they weren’t cordial when wally invited dick over, excited that wally was bringing home a friend from school (though rudy’s dinner manners could use a little refinement). they were perfectly acceptable, up to a certain standard. past that, their biases and hesitation shone brightly, and spilled over into wally, too. dick almost threw up the first time wally asked him if dick could teach him how to pickpocket because he thought it would be useful as a vigilante, and his mom had said dick’s people were good at that sort of thing. his eyes were wide and guileless, unaware of the hurt festering in dick’s stomach, and that’s when dick decided that yeah, no, wally’s upbringing wasn’t going to cut it. (he was doing wally a favour, really, because roy would have just punched the poor guy in the face.) so he took wally to haleé’s the next time the circ rolled into town, and introduced him to all of his old friends, his old family, showing the speedster that they weren’t different or exotic or whatever the hell dick heard rudy spout off sometimes during dinner. and he quietly cheered the next time he was over at wally’s house for dinner, when his father made a comment and wally narrowed his eyes, telling rudy he was wrong. he went with wally to an ice cream parlour in the thick of central city, in the middle of june. he acted like nothing was amiss, ducking under a rainbow flag, while really watching wally out of the corner of his eye, the other boy taking in all the different couples sharing ice cream in the shop. positive reinforcement, he thought as he bought wally a giant ice cream cone after wally hesitantly told the worker behind the glass that he liked their pin. and he went with wally to all sorts of college campus tours, quietly steering him towards the bigger cities, thrusting pamphlets into his hands and pointing out all the different benefits a college far from little old keystone would have. there was a twinge in his heart when wally introduced him to linda, but it was easily ignorable in favour of the pride he felt when he found out wally had started to learn korean for her.

it made him sick sometimes, how far people were willing to go just for a smile. granted, dick’s smiles were usually laced with a dark look in his eyes and deceptively casual body language, light flirting spilling from his lips as easily as his target fell for it. he never liked doing this. being the bats’ chosen honeypot was a job he wouldn’t wish on anyone else, though, so he let himself fall into the role. he took note of every single one of his target’s responses: pupils widening, shoulders relaxing, tense grip on the drink falling slack. and he took that and ran with it. leaning forward to look his target straight in the eye and parting his lips the slightest bit until they were focused on nothing but him, casually bumping hips and touching toes until their body was lax in the chair. it never failed, not even for the most experienced of people. a wink and maybe a kiss later, and he usually had what he needed: a usb drive or a cell phone or a tracker planted in a jacket pocket. his target usually never knew what hit them

dick was well aware of the soft spot clark held for him. it was sweet, a nice change from bruce’s high standards and even higher expectations. clark still saw him as a skinny little kid, swinging on bruce’s shoulders and launching himself at clark for hugs (not that he didn’t still do the latter, just rarely.) he never failed to take advantage of it either. clark kent had a whip-sharp mind and a built in bullshit detector, but uncle clark melted every time dick slumped his shoulders and swung his legs forlornly over the edge of a skyscraper. bruce isn’t letting me pick up basic patrols even though my injury healed over two days ago, he would pout, munching on the doughnuts clark had bought him as the older man made sympathetic noises. in a couple days, bruce would mysteriously clear dick for active duty, citing a “new outlook,” and dick would hide his grin as he raved to clark about bruce’s sudden change of heart. it’s just so difficult getting recommendation letters these days, he’d groan to clark, sprawled over the sofa clark’s apartment, especially since everyone knows me as bruce wayne’s kid, so they’ll never be honest. only a week afterwards, dick knew he could expect a pristine letter of recommendation from pulitzer prize winning author lois lane. i just don’t have the time to deal with him on top of everything going on in bludhaven, he’d complain, suit on but mask off on the roof of the daily planet. i can’t just drop everything the minute slade decides he wants to fight with someone competent. after that, he knew slade wouldn’t be showing up in bludhaven or gotham anytime soon, because superman could be quite terrifying if he wanted to.

#scribbles from the swamp #dick grayson #nightwing #wally west #the flash #clark kent #superman #dc #dick grayson headcanon #nightwing headcanon #wally west headcanon #the flash headcanon #clark kent headcanon #superman headcanon #dc headcanon

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

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Unfinished Business ~ Part 4

WORD COUNT: 4.5K

WARNINGS: Mentions of mafia, strong language, murder, blood

PAIRING: Bang Chan X Reader

DESCRIPTION: Part four of nine of my new Bang Chan series.

You’re taken hostage but one of Seoul’s leading mafia families Bang Chan but he doesn’t take you because he wants to fake a marriage or make you fall for him in 365 days no…He wants to use you for his own personal gain. To take over another family but when you try to escape things take a turn for the worst and you learn Chan isn’t one to be messed with.(Please I suck at describing stuff)

THEMES: Smut will be included in a later chapter so this is a fic for a mature audience, Chan x Fem!Reader, Self insert

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

The next morning you were walked down to the breakfast table as though you were some kind of prisoner, Seungmin apologised when he had to take you but you kept your mouth shut not wanting to breathe a word to anyone after last night. You hadn't slept at all, you couldn't get the images out of your head. It was hard to move something like that from your mind, she was like family to you and just like that she was gone. Sitting at the table was Chan, he was reading through something you didn't care about so you sat down where the empty plate was and it was soon being plated with food by Felix who gave you a sympathetic look. They all knew what had happened inside of that room and yet did nothing to help you stop it.

"How's your ankle?" Chan asked not lifting his eyes from the paper he was reading from, searching for any news on Namjoon or about what had happened with Mrs Lu - there was nothing there. He wanted to move his eyes from the paper though, he wanted to look at you and see that you were okay. He knew you wouldn't speak much after what he'd put you through the night before. He knew that it was harsh but it was what had to be done, even after a lengthy conversation with Felix about it, it was what was needed.

"Fine." You mumbled taking the cup of tea that had been poured for you by Jeongin and sipping on it ignoring the burning sensation on your tongue as the liquid hit it,

"Eat something," He said firmly, finally glancing at you from across the table, he could already tell you hadn't slept. Your hair was thrown up in a messy ponytail, you were wearing sweats and a baggy shirt not to mention you had bags under your eyes, Felix said he'd heard you crying when it was his shift so that explained your eyes looking so bloodshot and your nose being red.

"Is the bedroom not to your standards? I can have a new bed brought in if you'd sleep better on it?" You hated that his voice was laced with concern for you and your wellbeing when he'd been nothing but mean from the moment you came to him - or rather were kidnapped by him.

"It's fine. Couldn't sleep. Nightmares." Your voice was monotone as you stared at the plate in front of you not wanting to eat anything that had been placed in front of you.

"I'm not hungry. Can I leave the table?" It felt as though you were talking to your parents when you were younger,

"Not until you eat something. You didn't have anything last night." You looked at the food and took the apple from the fruit bowl in the middle of the table, biting into it while staring at Chan smugly who just sniggered at you.

"I'll give you it." He put the paper down and leant on the table with his hands as he stood up from under the table, dressed in his usual suit and tie.

"Han said you wanted to go out and pick paint. We'll make a day trip of it." You swallowed the chunk of apple you'd been chewing on out of surprise and stared at him, this was some kind of test it just had to be.

"You said I wasn't allowed out-"

"Unless accompanied, unless you're still planning on running..." He buttoned his suit jacket up looking at you with a raised eyebrow, it was now that you realised one of them had a slit in it but it wasn't shaved, it was a faint scar.

"No! No, I won't. I said I'll stay." You meant it, you meant everything you'd said. You weren't going to try escaping if it meant more people would die because of you. It wasn't worth it.

"Good. Jisung will bring you up a dress to change into. I'm still having a wardrobe picked out to match you perfectly." You nodded and slowly got up from the table, too scared to make some kind of wrong move around him. Then you began walking with Seungmin past Chan when his hand reached out to touch your wrist, you flinched and he froze. He stared at you for a couple of seconds forgetting everything he was going to say to you when he saw the way you flinched at his touch,

"I-" He forgot everything he'd wanted to say when he stared into your eyes, he could see the fear that you held in them. Your eyes danced from his eyes to his wrist and he let go not wanting to upset you anymore than he already had.

"Make sure she has some ice for her ankle, and bandage it up." He said to Seungmin but his eyes never left yours, you could have sworn that he looked concerned for you and he was. He felt terrible for your ankle, the moment he'd grabbed your ankle he wanted to punch himself in the gut. He knew how painful it could be to be chained up like that and he felt awful for doing it to you the moment it happened.

"Thanks," You whispered to him, quickly leaving him there going towards the staircase with Seungmin who then left you at the bottom of the staircase with Jisung who also felt terrible for what had happened. Except he was the only one showing it clearly, he'd never liked the killing aspect of their life, he never liked this life he only stuck around because of Chan and the boys. He began taking you up the stairs making sure to walk slowly enough so you wouldn't damage the ankle more.

"There's a first aid kit in the bathroom, wait here," Jisung said as he left to go into the en-suite within your room, you stared at the door where you could see him reaching through the cupboards above the sink. You felt bad for running out on him the night before but you had to try and get out. He'd been the only one to show you any kind of kindness except for Felix and Jeongin.

"Why does he do that?" The question came out without context when Jisung came back into the room with some scissors and a bandage, he patted the bed and you followed his orders sitting down lifting your foot to sit on his knee.

"Do what?" He began wrapping up your ankle in a blue bandage to keep the pressure on it and you hissed as he applied more and more pressure each time he wrapped the bandage around, it wasn't awful like Chan's the night before. It felt nice to have it there.

"He acts like he cares when he clearly doesn't after what he did to me." Jisung sighed looking at you from the corner of his eye, he thought you would have been smart enough to see through Chan's clear facade but he was wrong about that.

"I told you. We don't like to kill-" He tried to defend him again but you weren't going to let him.

"And yet he did," He gave you the side-eye he wanted to tell you the truth about everything, about last night and how things weren't always what they seemed to be but he continued to bandage your ankle up in silence deciding he valued his life.

"I have no explanation for anything Chan does, all I have is an excuse that isn't mine to give out. Just know that somewhere deep inside his head he's doing it because he cares." That was all he could say to you without going too into detail about everything that went on inside Chan's head, the original plan for you was changing day to day depending on Chan's mood and it was giving Jisung and the boys whiplash. Your mind was being torn to shreds. Cares? He didn't even know you?

"He cares for me? He doesn't know me-"

"He knows enough, we all do." The folder. You looked at the floor and tried to remember what was inside the folder, everything. Every single detail about your life no matter how big or small was in that folder, your parents, your grandparents, all of your jobs from the ages of 11 and up. If someone read it they could say they'd known you since birth, passed off as you if they wanted to commit identity fraud.

"But why?" you asked. Jisung scoffed and helped you stand back up on your feet, you could finally put pressure on your ankle without it sending shooting pains throughout your leg.

"You're going to ask me to explain his complex brain?" You knew it was a long shot when you asked so you nodded at him and he pointed at another floral dress sitting on the hanger on your wardrobe door deciding he wasn't going to talk about it any more than he had. He could get into trouble for what he'd already told you.

"He doesn't like to be kept waiting." He said simply as you nodded in understanding and he left the room for you to get changed, standing just outside the door so he could walk you downstairs when you were finished.

Walking around the mall with Chan was weird - mostly because you were hand in hand with him but also because people were staring the whole time. The hand holding was his idea, he knew it was one way he could get all eyes on both of you and that was what he needed. Eyes were on you wherever you went, you thought it was just because of who Chan was but he told you it was because he hadn't been seen with a female companion in a while.

"They're staring at me?" You whispered as you walked past another couple who both stared at you blatantly obviously, both of them mumbling to the other about you as you walked, the woman's hand covering her mouth as she obviously said something to her partner. You looked at the dress feeling insecure but Chan stopped once he realised where your mind was going,

"They don't like seeing powerful men with a woman at his side. You look fine. The dress is perfect." Before you could argue with him he pointed at the paint shop you'd requested to go to and you walked inside head hanging low as you tried not to think about people looking at you. His hand never left yours and when the man behind the counter began talking to you his grip tightened,

"Can I get classical white, runaway blue, and a set of your acrylic paints and paintbrushes please?" You said to him, trying not to stare at him as he stared at your hand with Chans you wanted to beg for him to save you but images of the night before raised back into your head, along with images of your grandfather.

"I have to take this," Chan said as his phone started to ring loudly in his top pocket he moved away from you and out of the shop, Felix stood in the door to make sure no one else could go in or out of the shop without him knowing about it.

"Would you like to see the paint being mixed?" The man asked with wide eyes trying to think of a way that he could talk to you in private he'd seen this before with Chan's type,

"I'd love to." Your voice came out shaky and uneasy so you followed him over to the paint shaker and he started it up it was loud enough to cover up the conversation he was going to have with you,

"Do you need help? We can get you out...Just say the word and I'll sneak you out of the back-" A hand was placed on your shoulder before it moved and a voice spoke out,

"That won't be necessary will it, baby girl?" Your whole body was on edge as you heard him call you baby girl again, his arm wrapped around your waist and you felt sick for the man's safety.

"No. I'm fine thank you." Your monotone was back and the man stared between you and Chan and you gave him a knowing look not to press for anything, maybe that had been the real reason everyone had been staring. They were trying to break you away from Chan and get you safe. It was no secret who Chan was; him and the boys were practically famous for what they did. You took Chan over to some canvas' and his hand tightened on your waist as he grew angrier, his pulse racing as he thought about someone taking you away from him. His pulse was beating so much you could feel it on your hip where his arm was resting.

"I'll kill him-" This time your pulse raced,

"He was just worried about someone's safety. Don't hurt him. I'm staying. I'm here. I'll stay," You promised with him and linked your hands together once more to show him that it was the truth, his pulse slowed back down and his expression softened as he locked eyes with you.

"I'm not going anywhere," You matched his soft expression and he looked at you wondering why you were being so nice to the man when you didn't know him but then he remembered the file. You'd always been nice to everyone, volunteering at the nursing home, at the hospital and regularly working for charities. Which reminded him of something he had to do soon and he wanted to ask you too.

"I have something to ask of you." He walked you over to some more paints and you nodded, you'd do anything if it meant no one else would die because of you.

"I regularly attend a charity event and would you like to go with me?" Charity? He...donated to charity your blood boiled at the thought of him only doing it to make up for the shit he did.

"What is that? Your sick kind of way of making up for all of the terrible things you do to people?" The words slipped out before you could even think about them and he looked mortified as you said that to him, it wasn't true at all. It couldn't have been further from the truth, the charity was something he held close to him that he'd been doing long before he came into this lifestyle. You could tell by the look on his face that you'd hurt him and you felt bad for a second, fearing that if you stepped out of line something could happen you tried to justify yourself.

"S-Sorry. I didn't think-"

"It's a charity I hold close to my heart. You will attend the function with me." It wasn't a question this time it was a statement, you were going and you had no choice in the matter. You nodded at him knowing the repercussions if you didn't say yes and he went back to looking at the paint like everything was normal.

Chan was off again on business, the moment you were done inside of the shop he told you he had to leave and you were sent home alone with Jisung, Hyunjin and Jeongin who were watching you closely as you walked around your bedroom as if they had nothing better to do with their time.

"Do you have any plastic covers, Chan didn't get some earlier." Jisung and Hyunjin exchanged looks as if they were having some kind of psychic conversation together.

"There's some in the office," Jeongin said nodding for you to follow him into the office across the hall so you did, walking behind him as he got into the room. You stood in the door and images came flooding back from what had happened the night before, the carpet was gone and replaced with laminate flooring as if nothing had happened. Jeongin followed your gaze as he realised what he'd done and where he'd brought you.

"Shit. Sorry, I forgot-" He was so used to this life he'd forgotten how it affected those who weren't used to this,

"It's fine," You lied looking down at your hands instead of the flooring. He began looking through drawers when you saw a bookshelf, sitting there in the centre shelf was a photograph of Chan and another woman.

"Who's this?" You asked, opening the glass doors to take a closer look at the image that was sitting there. Jeongin glanced up at you, panic rushing through him as you touched the photo. Chan hated it when people touched his stuff.

"Chan's wife. Shes- Shes not with us anymore." You ran your fingers over the photograph, she looked like you. She looked a lot like you, from the hair right down to the dress you were wearing. So that was what he was doing? He saw his wife in you and was trying to replace her with you? You put the photograph back down and Jeongin held up the covers he'd gotten from the bottom drawer. Maybe his ex-wife was the way out for you, maybe her being his weakness was your way out. Make him fall for you, make him weak and escape when he doesn’t see it coming?

"What are you painting?" He questioned as you walked out of the office. He locked the door and added the key into his pocket. Everyone had a key to the office by the looks of it.

"Sunflowers." You whispered as he walked you into the room, Jisung was alone now as he looked at the wall you were planning on painting on.

"Hyunjin is cooking us something to eat, Jeongin go and help him." The small boy left the room after dropping the covers onto your bed for you to sort out. You looked at Jisung from the corner of your eye as you poured paint out into the containers.

"You're being awfully calm for someone who'd spent the day with someone she hates," You ignored his comment, not wanting to raise any suspicion and took the roller dipping it into the sky blue paint.

"He was kinder...didn't hurt that man." He hummed at you, not believing it for even a second and stared as you starting to add a light blue to the wall.

"You didn't try to escape, that was the only reason he didn't do anything. Don't think he's going soft on you." You hummed this time, not believing him and he shook his head at you. All that filled your head was the photo of his wife and Chan together. His arms wrapped around her waist as he had a huge smile on his face, so big you could see dimples on the sides of his cheeks.

"How did he lose his wife?" You asked without moving your eyes from the wall it was an innocent enough question but you didn't want it to seem as though you were prying him for information because you weren't.

"Why?" You shook your head and looked over at him,

"I saw the photo. She looked young." He looked down at the floor. They weren't supposed to talk about her. They were supposed to keep their mouths shut. You weren’t even supposed to know that he’d had a wife so Jeongin had fucked up by letting you see the photograph.

"Is she the reason you're not allowed to listen to music?" He knew you were up to something the minute you asked that question and he cut everything short not having time for the bullshit.

"Whatever you're planning, get it out of your head now. Unless you want a repeat of Mrs Lu with your grandfather." You stared at him as he brought your grandfather up into the conversation,

"Do you think I'd plan anything after what I saw last night! She was like a mother to me and he ripped her away. I wouldn't disobey him again." It was only partially true, you were planning to get away but you were planning on making it easier on everyone else first.

Chan walked up the staircase to see Minho was asleep outside of your room, his head resting on a wall. He didn't blame him, it had been a long day at the offices. They were all tired and he was about to head to his own bed when he heard soft humming coming from your room, he was surprised you were still awake after not sleeping the night before. He pushed the door open silently to see you standing there with a paintbrush in your hand, you were sitting crossed-legged on a set of chest drawers sitting so close to the wall your nose could have some paint on it. He knew the tune you were humming but he couldn't place what it was, he watched as you added another brush stroke to the wall. He made his way inside until he was standing right behind you, you hadn't heard him thanks to your humming which had slowly turned into softly sung lyrics.

"Your favourite?" You fell backwards, your legs spralling out in front of you to try and catch yourself but Chan caught you quickly before you could hurt yourself. Your arms resting on his as you stared up at him and you realised you'd painted a bright yellow stripe down his suit jacket.

"Sorry, it'll come right out if you wash it right now." You struggled out of his arms and stripped off his jacket rushing into the en-suite where you panicked trying to wash the paint off his jacket. His hands rested on your arms to stop you moving so fast and for a split second, it felt nice to have him this close to you, a spark rushing up and down your body making you feel a little uneasy.

"It's fine. I can have it dry cleaned." He slipped it out from under the water and hung it over the shower since it was wet.

"You're scared of me?" You nodded at him and he tried not to sigh, it wasn't what he wanted at all he didn't want you to fear him this badly.

"They are." He frowned confused as you answered something else,

"My favourite, you asked. They are." You said pointing over at the sunflowers on the wall.

"You should be asleep, you haven't slept for almost 48 hours." You looked at the watch on his wrist to see that it was almost 3 am,

"I can't sleep....always struggled." You admitted to him and he nodded in understanding. He'd also struggled with his sleep for a long time which meant he had tips to help you.

"I struggle with sleep too." You ignored the need to make a quip about what he did for a living was probably keeping him up at night and he walked you over to the giant double bed pulling back the sheets for you.

"But you should sleep, we have an event later in the week and I need you to be well-rested for it." You got under the covers and stared at him as he tucked you into the bed and started humming to the song you'd been singing. So music wasn't something he hated completely. That was something that you could work with.

"Can I have a radio tomorrow? To work with while I paint?" He stared at you.

"I don't like music." He answered plainly not looking away from your eyes,

"Oh...Okay." He could tell how disappointed you were and he looked down at you. He hated seeing you look so disappointed about something, he never wanted to see that look again even if it meant doing something he didn't like.

"I'll see what I can do." He brushed the hair from your face and kissed your forehead. Softly sparks shot through your body and you stared at him trying not to give signs away that you felt them. You couldn't fall for him, not after what he did and who he was, he'd killed Mrs Lu, he ran drug cartels, money laundering, cold-blooded murder, gang wars and...Well, there were many rumours...Not everything had to be true did it? You wanted to question him on that now, find out what exactly was and wasn't true with him and his crew. Trying to get your head back into your plan, instead of what Chan did for a living, you questioned him on the music subject,

"Why don't you like music?" You shifted over in the bed so he could sit beside you, he stared at the space and you stared into his eyes.

"Tell me." You pleaded, placing your hand on his as he sat down on the space you'd left for him. He felt his heart warm up as you talked to him calmly and touched him because you wanted to, not because he was forcing you to.

"It's nothing, just something that used to be played a lot in the house and then there was no need for it." He took his hand away from you not wanting to get into this, it was too much for one night, he'd already told you too much. You were just supposed to be bait for Namjoon but he was starting to feel more for you, he got off the bed quickly and left the room slamming the door so hard that Minho jumped awake and stared at his boss rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Something wrong?"

"She likes music."

"That would be nice...right?" Minho and Felix had really been the only ones to calm Chan down when he got bad like this when he got upset over his wife. They'd been there for him the longest and it was them he could trust the most. Chan hummed in answer of Minho’s question and walked into his bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. He walked over to the photo frames that lined his desk, all him and his wife together in the earlier days of the marriage.

"Every day I miss you a little more." But there was something else taking over his heart, he stared at the photos and he no longer felt hurt by them. It was more of a feeling of peace as he stared at his once happy wife, but he was starting to picture his life with you instead of with her. He took the frames and placed them into the bottom drawer of a desk inside his bedroom and began changing out of his suit. He hated that he snapped at you like that, but he didn't want you knowing his weaknesses, you'd use them against him just like everyone else did. Just like Namjoon did with her...but then again. The plan had been to lure Namjoon out of the shadows with you, use you as bait to get the confession from Namjoon but now he could use it to his advantage. Namjoon could scare you into staying with him and Chan wouldn't have to be the bad guy anymore...He could be the one trying to protect you instead he just had to come up with a way to get it to work.

Tagline: @moonprincessdiviniation - my beautiful and wonderful editor, @jooniesdarlingdimples @taestannie @kneel-begyourpardon @calling-dips-on-j-hope @hugs4chan @ncitythoughts @inseonqt @cloudsgathering

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longitudinalwaveme · 3 years

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Worst Flash Storylines and Plot Ideas of All Time

As you’ve probably ascertained from the general contents of this blog, the Flash is my favorite comic book series. I love the characters and most of the stories. However, just like any series that’s been around for eighty years (counting the Jay Garrick stuff), the Flash does, unfortunately, have some truly terrible stories and plot ideas.

In terms of terrible plot ideas that didn’t completely ruin the surrounding stories:

1. Barry Allen uses the Mirror Master’s mirrors to manipulate Iris into agreeing to start dating him again (Flash #109). Creepy, Barry. Just creepy. The story is great Silver Age fun otherwise.

2. Iris West: meanest woman alive. Iris was, by and large, incredibly awful to Barry up until maybe about a year before their 1966 marriage. Almost every time she shows up in an early Silver Age issue, you will admire her daring and independence (this is good) and be bewildered as to why on Earth Barry would want to spend time with a woman who is constantly calling him slow, lazy, and ambition-less (this is not good). It doesn’t really affect any one issue too much, but when read in a conglomerate, she starts looking really awful. Although as bad as Early Silver Age Iris seems as a romantic interest, she’s got nothing on Silver Age Superman and Lois Lane, the most dysfunctional couple in the DCU.

3. Wally West’s zero-effort code name and costume (Flash #110). It really could not be more obvious how little effort the writers were putting into creating this character. The duplicate origin is also pretty cheesy, but there are enough differences from Barry’s origin for it not to frustrate me. But the name “Kid Flash” and the fact that his first costume was literally identical to Barry’s just feel incredibly lazy. Barry and Wally do have an adorable dynamic in the issue, though, so it’s by no means all bad.

4. Barry Allen waiting an entire year after his marriage to tell his wife that he’s really the Flash. Frustrating and unnecessary; especially since Joan Garrick had been in on her husband’s secret since the 1940s.

5. Iris Allen is FROM THE FUTURE. I both love and hate this idea. It’s so perfectly comic-booky, but at the same time, it opened the floodgates for the Allen family being a confusing, time-displaced mess.

6. The Trial of Barry Allen. This one’s weird. I like many of the individual issues in this arc, and I actually think the last two issues are really great as an ending for Barry Allen’s original run, but this storyline dragged on for waaaaaay too long. There’s a reason I call it the Arc that Never Ends. Also, the titular trial is actually the least interesting part of the entire storyline. His battles with the Rogues and Kadabra are far more interesting.

7. Wally West’s borderline creepy, chauvinistic attitude towards women under Mike Baron (and, to a much lesser extent, William Messner-Loebs). There’s being a hormonal twenty-something, and then there’s going through girlfriends at the rate other people change their socks. Messner-Loebs mostly avoided this issue by making it clear that Wally was under intense psychological stress that was negatively impacting his behavior, but under Baron and in some of his JLE appearances, he comes across as a real creep around women.

8. Kadabra overkill under Mark Waid: I like Kadabra, but when he’s the main villain in like four distinct arcs, it gets to be a bit much. It’s like modern Eobard. He is legitimately written well, though, so he doesn’t drag down any of the stories too much.

9. Pointlessly Dead Rogues: Killing off the Rogues in Underworld Unleashed for no good reason (the rest of the story is great, especially the Trickster).

10. Pointlessly Dead Rogues 2: Electric Boogaloo: The Golden Glider’s pointless death to build up a character who was himself killed two issues later. (The rest of the story is decent.) Also, the treatment of Lisa in general post-Crisis is frustrating, since she becomes considerably more unhinged than she was before.

11. Any time Waid tried to write McCulloch, with the exception of Flash vol. 2 #105 (and even there, he seemed off). It’s like he forgot Evan wasn’t Sam.

12. Apparently, the Top trying to blow up both Central City and half the world makes him a loser? Also, he suddenly hates Piper for no readily apparent reason. (At least the story had some good Piper and Wally bits.)

13. BARRY ALLEN HAS A SECRET EVIL TWIN! DUN DUN DUN! (The rest of the story, where we get to meet a whole whack of interesting future Flashes, is actually pretty good, but whoo boy, the Malcolm reveal feels like it came straight out of a soap opera.)

14. In order for Captain Cold to ANGST, the Golden Glider’s pointless death remained in place for over ten years. It did give us a really, really good Capt. Cold story, at least...but it’s still fridging.

15. Rainbow Raider’s mean-spirited murder by Blacksmith. Poor Roy.

16. Albert Desmond becomes Hannibal Lecter, only twenty times as rude, for a Gotham Central arc that would’ve been terrific without him as the main villain.

17. Owen Mercer is an idiotic child murderer and gets killed by the Rogues. Why was this necessary? (The rest of Blackest Night: The Flash is pretty good.)

18. Josh Jackam-Mardon’s murder. The murder of small children for shock value is pretty gross. Especially since nothing was ever really done with it.

19. Barry’s PARENTS ARE DEEEEAAAAD! (Okay, it’s really just his mom, but still. This is a very frustrating retcon, since originally his parents were alive and well until after his own death.)

20. Albert Desmond was Barry’s jerk coworker; which never impacted the plot or led to anything. As a result, it’s just another frustrating retcon.

21. Sam Scudder murdered someone before becoming the Mirror Master. Yet another Johns retcon that never went anywhere and only serves to darken the Silver and Bronze Age stories after the fact.

22. Flashpoint (a decent story) wiped out a whole bunch of characters I really liked from existence for several years. Evan McCulloch’s still not back.

23. Giving the Rogues metahuman powers doesn’t suit them, on the whole. They work better without them.

24. Roy’s second pointless, brutal death in (I think) Forever Evil.

25. IT WAS MEEEEE, BARRY! After serving as the main villain for like six arcs in eight years, I’m glad that Eobard finally seems to be getting a rest. The level of bad things he was responsible for was getting ridiculous.

26. Sam/Lisa. WHY? (The only time it even kind of worked was in Forever Evil.)

In terms of entire storylines I didn’t like:

1. The Flash: The Most Terribly Written Man Alive. Poor Bart is aged up with no adequate explanation, loses all the traits that made him a likeable character, fights some awful villains, and then is murdered by the badly OOC Rogues. Meanwhile, Inertia goes from an at least somewhat sympathetic villain to a complete psychopath with little explanation, a murder is retconned into one of Captain Cold’s reformed periods, the Pied Piper and the Trickster completely forget that they’re supposed to be reformed, Abra Kadabra inexplicably teams up with the Rogues despite generally being a solo operative, and all of the Rogues act like total morons, willingly following a teenage speedster for no adequately explained reason. UGH.

2. Countdown to Infinite Crisis: Even though Piper and Trickster were probably the best part of Countdown, that isn’t saying much. Both of them are uncharacteristically stupid (especially James), and James is a grade-A jerk to Piper for no reason. Also, both of them continue to forget that they reformed, and then James gets brutally murdered and Piper almost loses his mind. Also, the other Rogues cameo, and continue to act like idiots. Countdown: it really does ruin everything it touches.

Superboy Prime will kill you! He’ll kill you to DEATH! And after you read Countdown, you’ll wish he had killed you to death.

3. The Identity Crisis Tie-In Retcon: So, you know all that awesome character development the Rogues have had over the years? Well, forget all that, because it was all just Roscoe brainwashing them! Which was something he could definitely do before this story! And why did he do this? Why, because Barry Allen, one of the most upstanding men in the DCU, brainwashed him! Also, apparently, the Top had a huge bodycount that we never heard about back in the Bronze Age, because we need even MORE grimdark retcons for our cheerful Silver/Bronze Age history! I like Geoff Johns’ work, I really do....but BOY HOWDY does he need to lay off on the retcons sometimes.

4. Identity Crisis: With the exception of Owen’s introduction and the establishment of the relationship between him and Digger, this story was pretty awful all around. More specifically, as far as the Flash was concerned, it was responsible for Digger’s second pointless death. It also killed off poor Jack Drake and poor, mistreated Sue Dibney, who deserved MUCH better. And the Justice League, including Barry, are A-OK with brainwashing, apparently. Comics are fun!

These last two stories are pretty recent, and they did have some parts I liked, but on the whole I felt they also belonged on the list.

5. The Trickster finally returns! Hurrah! Except it turns out that he’s way more like the Joker now than he ever was before, and he mind-controls the city in a super-creepy way. A very disappointing return for the character, especially since it was set up really well.

6. Forever Evil: Captain Cold becomes a murderous dictator with a stupid Santa Beard, all of the Rogues get horrible costumes, and Sam completes his mutation into Evan-in-all-but-name. There are some good characters bits in the story (even for Cold), but on the whole, I found the story to just be unlikeable and depressing and thought Cold was pretty out-of-character. Poor Commander Cold....

So, what are your least favorite Flash storylines and plot ideas?

#flash comics #flash rogues #dc comics

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fruityutas · 3 years

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strike to the heart

taglist ~ @puppywritings , @xiaojours , @svchengss , @prettyjaems

part of @du0tine ‘s 21 ways to kill your lover collab

unstable!yangyang x psychologist!reader

not proofread

wc ~ 5k

genre ~ angst, ttiiinnnyyy fluff, thriller

warnings ~ the following writing is FICTION and has very heavy and unsettling themes like murder, suicide, and toxic relationships. if these themes are triggering or otherwise uncomfortable to you, do NOT read this story. there are also themes of religion.

synopsis ~ you were the best of the best, no one could bring an end to your golden career until he came along

note ~ i based yangyang’s personality in this off of his turn back time persona, making him very obviously mentally unstable. the plotline is based loosely off of harley quinn’s origin story, except of course, the reader dies. i also used the concept of purgatory in this story.

i realize that purgatory is apart of various religions, and i hope i made use of it in this story in the way it is intended to be portrayed as. i am not familiar with the subject, as i am non religious and have been for many years, so if i wrote anything that was disrespectful, please let me know and i will educate myself more on the topic. please note that if i do write something disrespectful, i will not be changing the writing in any way, unless necessary, because i feel that changing/erasing the mistake prevents anyone from seeing my growth as a person.

here is the link to the website i used to read up on purgatory -> https://historylists.org/art/9-levels-of-purgatory-dantes-purgatorio.html

your parents always told you to aim for first. probably why you’re here now. you sit in the chair, watching your life play on what seems to be a screen. you can’t tell either way, everything is stark white and blends into one. the scenes are the only thing providing color to your eyes. are you dreaming? no, no that can’t be. the last thing you remember is…pain. and betrayal. how could he do this?

he was a fucking criminal. he had no true love for you, you were his final act. how could you have been so naive? every thought came too fast, it made your head hurt. a noise brought you out of your thoughts. a tall man stood off to the side of the screen. his features were sharp, and he looked angelic. “you must be y/n. you must also be wondering where you are.” you struggle to find your voice, so you nod at the man. he gives a sympathetic smile and strolls over to you.

“you’re in purgatory. well, this is the judgment room. here your memories are played and the most influential ones are used to go to their corresponding terraces.”

“do i pick them out?” he shakes his head.

“no, the council does that. you just sit and watch.” you shift in your chair, the hard material uncomfortable against your skin. “don’t worry, i’ll be here while it happens. you can call me sicheng.” his voice was hypnotizing, calming your mind. you turned back to the screen, and what you assumed to be the first memory started to play.

a burst of yelling snaps you from your thoughts. looks like we have a new patient. it was like this everytime a new patient arrived. yelling, taunting, sometimes as far as physical assault. it was like the right of passage for ‘newbies’ as the currents like to call them. you leave your office to peek downstairs. this one is surrounded by four guards. that’s unusual. two guards was standard, why does this patient need four? a danger to himself and others i assume. i should ask joy if i can take him. you hadn’t had a new patient in months, and all your others were making such progress they moved to a new unit. one of your patients, named chittaphon, had been released back into society. you were one of the best, even at such a young age.

“joy! have you assigned the new patient to anyone yet? i’d like to have him.” you plopped yourself onto the couch in her office. her soft laugh brought you comfort.

“of course you can have him, i was probably going to ask you anyway. you haven’t been busy with any others lately. yukhei is moving to a new unit next week you know. you did good with him, he asked me to tell you thank you.” your heart aches at the thought of yukhei missing you, the boy had become important to you. you would sit and let him talk about his family, his friends, and even his - what he called - soulmate. he would always gush about them and their relationship. you never suspected he could have killed them in such the way he did, or that his ill brain would rewire itself into thinking they were waiting for him to get better and be released from the hospital. the day he found that out was burned in your memory, chairs being thrown and yelling from the entire floor. it broke your heart to see him in such a state, even more when they had to lock him in isolation for a week.

but things change and he got better, and now he’s moving up a unit. more yelling snaps you out of your little thinking session. you and joy peek out her office door to see the new inmate arguing with the guards. you sigh and head down the stairs, as much as joy protests it. one of the guards notices you and tells you to stay back, and that this inmate is dangerous. you shake your head at him and push through to get closer. the inmate didn’t look much older than you, albeit a bit taller than you. he was still yelling at the guards when you came up to him and cleared your throat. he rolls his eyes and turns to you to start yelling, but you shut him down with a stern look at a shake of your head.

“now, now, you don’t want to come in and be the hardass on the first day do you?” he says nothing, but the lack of arguing from him tells you he is agreeing. you tell one of the guards to follow you to his cell. it comes to no one’s surprise that his cell is in the lower level, it’s where all the worst patients stay. the guard that accompanied you stood directly outside the door of the cell, ready for any assistance. the inmate sat down on the cot provided but faced away from you. “are you going to speak to me?” he spares you a small glance, unwavering in intimidation, but it didn’t phase you. his face was young, yet it somehow seemed to be worn and exhausted. you wanted to open him up and see what his troubles came from, to fix him into a model member of society.

“wouldn’t you want me too huh?” his tone was annoyed and sarcastic. you stay collected and just nod at him. “why don’t we start with your name?” he stays silent. “if you don’t want to cooperate that’s perfectly fine but just know i’m the only one you can talk to if you want out of here.” you stand up and leave the cell, knowing that even though it didn’t look like it, progress was made. your last statement would sit with him until the next time you visit him, and he would talk eventually.

the screen fades away and into a new image. the only thing on the screen is the word ‘stubborn.’ you are confused as to what it means. sicheng makes his way over to you, his long legs making the distance short. “it corresponds to the first level of purgatory, stubbornness. although it wasn’t you who was being the most stubborn, it seems.” he snaps his fingers and a seat appears for him to sit. the screen lights up again and another memory begins to play.

“what do you mean he wants to see me? i just spoke to him this morning and he refused to say anything?” joy shrugs her shoulders exasperatedly. you sigh and make your way towards the lower level. the guard at the security door greets you with a nod of the head before letting you in. the inmate’s cell was at the end of the hall, dimly lit and dingey, with a slight smell of mildew. the underground location made for cold air and small windows, so there was never enough light in the place. as you made your way to your patient’s cell, a few of the other inmates down there whistled at you. they whooped and hollered to your dismay, bringing unwanted attention. you recognized one of them, guanheng was his name. he had been a patient of joy’s before she was promoted to her managerial position. no one else wanted to take him on, so they sent him down here to rot. you had expressed the idea of taking him, but joy wouldn’t have it. she simply said he was too unstable for anyone, and deserved to be down there. you disagree with her to this day, but she is still your superior and you can’t just go breaking rules just for your liking.

you knocked on the door to the cell, and a gruff “come in” came from the other side. entering the cell, you saw everything in disarray. “now, why is the cell in this condition?” he huffs and crosses his arms, almost in a cute way. you shake your head and continue in, shutting the door behind you. “are you going to tell me your name? i think it would help me connect better with you.” he looks at you with a blank stare. you don’t change your facial expression, remaining stoney faced. he sighs and starts muttering to himself, as if he was arguing with someone, before looking back up at you and finally speaking. “yangyang. at least thats what i’ve been told.” you hum lightly before asking him a few more questions.

“is it alright if i call you yangyang?” “yes” “alrightly then, do you remember anything from yesterday?” he ponders for a moment, his face going through a group of different expressions before he looks back to you. “i only know that i woke up and felt like hurting someone. but i can’t remember who or why. do you have any pens?” the last question catches you off guard. you hand him an extra pen from your coat pocket. he takes it eagerly and looks to your clipboard with expectant eyes. you tear a blank piece of paper from the back and hand it over. he immediately draws nonsense doodles, the paper quickly being filled. when he fills it, he flips it over to do the other side. “you can keep asking me things, you know. i like to draw, though i don’t know what. the other voice tells me to just make lines and things.” you’re jotting down notes when all of a sudden he throws the pen at you. it hits you square in the head, and you look up at him in surprise. he starts giggling and throws the crumpled paper at you. you remain calm as this can be a common occurrence among patients. his giggles become… unsettling very quickly, the tone and manner of them turning to a deeper octave. you slowly reach into your pocket to grab the help button, but you don’t press it just yet. yangyang stops his giggling and it becomes muttering. his words are difficult to make out, but you pick out a few, ‘kill’, ‘why’, and ‘forget’. you jot them down along with a note stating he was mumbling them in sentences that were not understood. “yangyang, are you hearing anything? do you know the other voice’s name if they have one?” he peeks out of his arms at you nodding. “they tell me that i shouldn’t have forgotten why i killed her.” you had notes on him that his previous institution gave to you, but you wanted to earn his trust by asking various questions. “who did you kill?” you knew he killed his mother, left her body hanging from the porch for everyone to see. the question cause him to tear up a bit. “i, i killed my mother. she just wouldn’t shut up, always nagging me about the house and bills, as if i could help it. she was a bitch.” “mmm, yes. but you loved her still, no?” he nods shakily as if he was unsure. “and did you forget why you killed her that morning?” another nod is sent to you. you keep taking notes on his behaviors.

you end the session on a positive note, telling yangyang that he did good today and that you’d be back tomorrow, but if he needed you to ask.

the screen once again went dark before the word ‘repentance’ appears. sicheng whips a pen-like object from nothing, grabbing your arm harshly to turn you towards him. “now, you might not like this next part but it has to be done. i have to carve five p’s into you somewhere. they aren’t permanent but it still hurts.” you panic slightly, trying to get away from his grasp.

“why?!” his face is stoic and cold, the seriousness setting in. you continue to struggle until he grips your face with vigor, causing you to stop moving. “stop. moving. it has to be done. now, where do you want me to do it?” you just point to your arm and look away as he does it. the pain is searing but bearable. “what is this for?” he makes the pen disappear before clearing his throat to speak. “for each of the sins that lead to your death, there is a ‘p’. the council shows a memory that corresponds to a sin, and you must figure out which one. if you get it right, you move one to the next one until the end, where you are allowed into heaven. if you get them wrong, you have another chance with a different memory. you only get two chances for each sin, though, and if you lose both of them a ‘p’ stays and it’s harder to get the next one correct. if you get more than two sins wrong, you spend 100 years here and then you are banished to hell. so please, be careful and choose wisely.” and with that he turns his attention back to the screen, as do you.

your appointments with yangyang were productive and you got to know him a lot better within the past few days. he hated dogs, they were too noisy and energetic for him. he really wanted to paint and draw all the time, so you gave him a few paint markers to decorate his cell with. when you had your next appointment, the walls were pretty full. he liked the texture of orange peels, he hated the taste. a lot of the things you learned intrigued you, why was his brain wired this way? you needed to dig deeper, and you knew you could. you had many awards and praises from seniors, your ego was swollen from it all. you took pride in your work, and you weren’t exactly humble about it. you would always brag to others about your accomplishments, and sometimes you made it a competition between you and your coworkers. joy was the only one that didn’t pay attention to it, she always let you go on rants about how you accomplished so many things this young.

the door to yangyang’s cell was the same grey color as usual, though on the inside, the room was filled with markings and random drawings the boy did. “yangie? what’s up?” he excitedly jumps from his spot on the bed over to the corner that the sessions took place in. two small chairs and a table were tucked in it, but it was cozy to you. a warm smile took place on your face as you sat in front of him. “well, today i really tried my best to not get angry with anyone like you said, and it worked! all i did was think about what you said to me and it helped so much. no one messed with me either.” there it is, the rush of pride in yourself. your ego is boosted, refilled for the day. you knew he could do it, with your help of course. you were the best in the field. “that is really good to hear, yangyang. i’m glad you remembered what i told you so you could control your emotions.” his hair bounced with each energized nod he gave you. you opened your clipboard and handed him a small stack of blank paper. “this is for you. now you have something clean to draw on again.” he took the papers excitedly.

the rest of the session was yangyang rambling on about how you were the only one helping him and how he really liked seeing you. you observed him and from time to time you’d write notes down on his info sheet. every time he caught you staring, he’d blush and look back at his drawings. a smirk carved into your face, and a wink was all it took for him to turn into a stuttering mess. you left the session that day glowing in confidence and pride.

the screen fades away, and you feel a tingling on your arm where one of the Ps is. sicheng’s voice whispers into your ear, “figure out what sin you just witnessed.” it makes you jump a little, but you quickly regain your composure. all you could think about was yangyang. but deep inside your inner conscious, you knew the sin here wasn’t about him. it was about you. “i have my answer.” sicheng gives you a small nod and when you turn back around, a dark and windy figure stands in front of you. a voice not belonging to you enters your mind. “which sin is it, y/n?” with a shaky voice, and sweating palms, you manage to garble out your answer. “it’s pride. i was prideful in my ways, never backing down from challenges that weren’t meant for me.” the dark figure nods before wisping away. the tingling returns to your arm, and as you look down at it a P swiftly disappears. sicheng’s footsteps bring you back up to the screen, which begins to play a new memory.

the continuous sessions with yangyang proved to be well. his condition was getting better, and he seemed to be taking well to the exercises you gave him. you were on your way to an appointment when joy came up beside you. “have you met with the new doctor yet?” you shake your head. “no, what’s their name? where are they located?” she tries to hide a mischievous smirk, grabbing your arm to stop your walking. “he is absolutely gorgeous! his name is kunhang and he’s actually gonna be on your unit, which means you’re training him since you are the best.” you chuckle at her enthusiasm, she’d always been trying to hook you up with people. she winks at you and runs off, probably to her next appointment. she’d conveniently stopped you in front of yangyang’s cell. you walk inside and see him on his bed pouting.

“what is wrong with you?” his eyes look up at you and shine with the beginnings of tears, worrying you. had the guards or an inmate said something to him? while you’re lost in thought he jumps up and pulls you on the bed with him, his arms wrapped tightly around you. you snap out of it and sit frozen in his arms. the feeling of butterflies in your stomach erupt and you know it’s because of the man in your arms. he lets you go and you stand up to fix your uniform. “what had gotten into you, yangs?” his pouting doesn’t go away and he speaks softly. “who is kunhang?” so that’s what he’s being clingy for. he’s jealous. “he’s a new psychiatrist here. i have to train him.” yangyang didn’t get rid of the pout on his face, and he didn’t let your hand go for the entire session. the jealousy he had even after you told him that nothing was going to happen between you and kunhang was noteworthy, though you didn’t specify why he was jealous on his chart.

the surrounding air had become cold, and you shiver harshly. sicheng sits beside you, tapping impatiently on the table. the shadow figure returns, and before it can speak you do. “the sin was envy. but why did you show me a memory of someone else being envious? i thought this was about my sins.” the figure doesn’t move from its spot. sicheng sighs and throws a stick at the figure, causing it to grunt. “that was unnecessary, sicheng. you are the reason for this sin. you let yangyang get attached to you, causing him to become jealous and protective of you. you may not have committed this sin, but you had the first hand in causing it.” you nod in agreeance, you had let him get close with you. too close, in your opinion, because if you hadn’t you wouldn’t be in this whole situation. it’s a bit ironic, you always told your coworkers to be wary of patients, yet here you are, stuck in purgatory because of one.

in the days leading up to your death, yangyang requested to see you nonstop, and he would ask so many questions about the outside world. what was surrounding the building, how many people were in the city. in hindsight, you should have suspected him to be trying to escape, but your mind was apparently on other things.

the last day you were alive, yangyang requested you only once. it was around eight in the evening, and this was going to be your last trip to his cell, quite literally. “are you ok, yangyang?” he nods and makes his way over to you. he might be younger, but his height is not small. “i’m just fine. but i wanna ask you something.” you nod to let him continue. “i’m planning to leave, and i want you to come with me.” the words come out of him in a hurry, but you catch them. a pit forms in your chest after hearing them. what in the world was he thinking? your job was important, and he still needed the therapy sessions you were giving him. “no, absolutely not. yangyang you can’t leave without proper check out from me and my superior. you know this.” he sighs in annoyance, grabbing your hand and dragging you to sit. “that’s not the type of leaving i meant. i mean we sneak out and never look back. we leave here and head north to my good friend ten’s house. he has this bigass mansion in the middle of nowhere, and we can lie low there for a while before going somewhere else and starting new!” you can’t bring yourself to say anything, the shock of how much he’d thought out this plan sitting heavy on your shoulders. the courage to say something before he thinks you’re agreeing with him bubbles up. “yangyang, under all circumstances, you and i cannot do that. do you know how many force tasks they’d send out for us? how much trouble we’d be in when they caught us? plus, you still need these sessions that i’m doing. the real world is harsh, and doesn’t take kindly to you. i wouldn’t want you or anyone else getting hurt.” his face contorts into sadness at your statement. he pulls you in for a bone-crushing hug, not letting go. “but i thought you loved me, don’t you want us to be happy together?” your blood runs cold at his confession. love was never on the table, the flirting you’d been doing was just to open him up to make it easier to talk. you knew you were taking a risk doing that, but never had you anticipated him to fall in love with you and think it was mutual. you separate yourself from him and walk to the door. “yangyang, are you being serious? you- you don’t actually think i’m in love with you, right?” his face falls, going completely straight. no movement comes from either of you for a good minute, the situation at hand causing hesitance. “you’re not? i just thought… you were.” you scoff at the boy sitting in front of you. “y/n, i don’t think you realize that i’ve already planned for this. we’re gonna have to leave.” you start to argue with him but a flurry of gunshots and screams ring out from all around you. you turn and pull the door open to see patients and guards frantically running about, a breach in the facility causing this. “jesus fucking- yangyang why in the hell would you do this!?” you turn to see him getting up from the bed and gathering a few items. “yangyang!” he doesn’t respond, only grabbing your arm and pulling you along with him. you’re too much in shock to resist the boy, and on top of that he’s definitely stronger than you. the run towards whatever exit he’s taking you to seems surreal. the amount of trouble you’re going to be in for this is astronomical. you can hear the words “you’re fired” repeating in your mind. outside the door is an alleyway that connects the facility to a power plant. it seemed like they’d had a breach too. yangyang really wasn’t lying when he said you’d have to leave to someplace far away. he drags you into the plant and heads for the large vats of chemicals. “yangyang where the hell are you taking us? what are you doing?” he glances over his shoulder at you, a deathly look on his face. “this wouldn’t have been in the plan if you had just done what i needed you to do. now you have to pay the price.” what in the fuck did he mean.

the vats were in sight, glowing and hot from the chemicals in them. your surroundings loud from combat, you’d assumed from runaway patients attacking. yangyang stopped in front of the largest one, looking down in it and smirking. he turns to a very shaken you, giggling like a madman. “i think you know what’s in store for you my love. you betrayed me! you gave me all the signs, and carelessly flirted, acting like you liked me.” tears were pouring down both of your faces, but for different reasons. the end of your life was staring at you, loud and proud, and you knew this. you had many goals in your life, and to see none of them get achieved hurt you. you take one last look at yangyang, who is inching closer. “i’m sorry for making you feel like that. i just hope that in the next life, you’ll be a normal person and get to experience life in a positive perspective.” he doesn’t seem to care, because as soon as he gets close enough to you, he grips your face and leans in. “and now, my love, you leave me with a kiss.” his lips lock with yours for a brief second before he shoves you hard, taking the breath out of you. you fall backwards into the vat, the acidic chemicals eating you. yangyang stares at you as you perish, the smile slowly dropping from his face.

one would think this whole tragedy could be easily resolved, but this was not a villain origin story, it was real life, and you were dead. yangyang knew what he had done was fatal, but make no mistake, you knew it was what he wanted. he did love you, but his brain was not the same as a normal person’s. the wiring was simply not supportive of any form of morals, no right or wrong could be detected. all he knew was that you were in the way of him getting out, and he needed you removed. so he did.

and as reality set in for him, yangyang realized that you were the only one who understood him. you were the one to listen to his problems and not look at him like he was crazy, to help him through the intrusive thoughts, and you did that all while loving him.

he breaks down, dropping to his knees at the harsh reality that you were gone forever, and no longer able to make him happy. the salty tears running down his face provided a blunt sting to the cuts and scrapes adorning his face. his shoulders shook with sorrow and his sobs were melancholic. yangyang can’t even think straight, all his mind is screaming is you. your name, face, your soft hair, warm skin, and the way you laughed at all his stupid jokes. he wants an escape from the voices in his head. the grate walkways that line the perimeter of the vats are loud with yangyang’s manic running. all he wants is freedom from his personal hell, he’s had to deal with people looking down on him all his life, saying that he was never going to be able to be normal, berating him for all the fucked up things he’s done, but never helping him to be a better person, always leaving him to rot in different psych ward cells.

gun. there’s one somewhere.

the one voice in his head that wasn’t screaming made him worry no less than before, but he knew to heed his own advice. it was the only coherent thought at the moment so what’s the harm. yangyang finds himself lost, and begins to get angry until he sees a guard coming his way. attacking him, he easily finds a gun and wrings it from the man’s grip before shooting him dead. the body slumps over and yangyang decides that he’d rather not die next to it. he is far too lost to try and get back to where he pushed you to your timely death, so he just runs until he finds a room. unlocked and unoccupied, he slips in and locks the door behind him.

the leather chair that he sits in is worn and comfortable. the desk has various papers scattered around, and the computer is off. yangyang takes one good look at himself in the reflection of the screen before pulling the trigger.

the judgement room is even colder than before. you sit in the uncomfortable chair, tears streaming down your face and sobs ripping through your chest. sicheng sits, unaffected by your pain. the shadowy figure appears in front of you, so close you can hear whispers of a large multitude floating out of it. “y/n, you must finish the trial. what was the last sin?” you try your damndest to compose yourself, wiping the tears and hiccuping. “i- he was…” “no, y/n. no excuses. what is the sin displayed here?” you didn’t need this figure up your ass about it, the answer was obvious. sighing, you look up at it, seeing it slightly resembles a man. “wrath.” the figure hums in response, moving over to show the screen again. in large font and bold letters, the word “repentance” is shown. “you have passed judgement, and you shall be going to heaven. are there any questions?”

#neowritingsnet #nshitty-frathouse #unfortunatus: inferno #nct #nct imagines #nct scenarios #wayv #wayv imagines #wayv scenarios #wayv yangyang #yangyang #yangyang x reader #yangyang scenarios

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warmau · 4 years

Text

☆ pride & prejudice!au doyoung others: yeosang

something catches the heel of your boot as you make your way through the freshly wet grasslands of the countryside

there had been a horrible storm last night and you were worried that your dear sibling had been caught up in it after your parents had sent her off on horseback to that rich mans manor

you stop to look up at the now sunny and expansive blue sky

what was his name?

your sibling had fawned over him all week after first making his acquaintance at the ball you’d been forced into attending

you try to remember, but all that you recall is the name of his perpetually scowling and stone-faced friend

kim doyoung

other guests at the ball had whispered about him, some kind of surviving heir to a handsome estate and a gigantic load of money

he was even wealthier than the young gentleman throwing this ball, and from the amount of frivolous furniture and expensive wine strewn around the place

that was saying something

he had been beside the man your sibling was being obviously courted by the whole night

and when you’d had enough of the brooding silence

you had introduced yourself - or you had attempted

with one glance that seemed to take in the entirety of your existence

he had stated his conclusion

rudely

“plain, everything about you agrees with the status you and your family are currently in.”

your sibling had a hard time swallowing the statement, but they were easily quelled with their new potential partner

you, on the other hand, just smiled in response

and everything about your pompous attitude makes me happy to report that rich people are just as self righteous and despicable as ive always assumed them to be

you hadn’t said it outloud - you wanted to - but youd just driven your nails into the skin of your palm behind your back

at home that night your sibling had told you to forget about doyoung, and you had assured her you werent about to live by the gospel of a man born with a golden spoon in his mouth

plus - he was nowhere near your type anyway

you were much more interested in selfless men, with some inklings of kindness and manners

plus, you didn’t think he was all the handsome anyway.

(that was partially a lie, for his lean but broad figure and dark eyes were charming - but it didnt matter. his character shined very, very well through)

finally, after an almost two hour walk - you make it to the manor

and you remember the name of the man who owned it

“im here to see sir taeyong.”

the maid takes a look at the boots you have on - mud and leaves stuck to the toes. the hair you’d tried to make presentable before leaving was now slightly curled with a bit of sweat and the hanging dew still in the air

your skin was glowing with it too, the shawl around your shoulders hanging slightly crookedly

“and you are?”

“my sibling is here-”

“ah! of course, come in. ill take you to the drawing room.”

you’re not surprised at the size of the halls and the ceilings that arch up, you feel like you’re in a church rather than a home

but you presume rich people must enjoy the ,,,,,,,,,, open space

when the maid announces your presence you step inside and into a room of three pairs of eyes

one is taeyong

the other is a women, who might assume is the sister of taeyong or the last person in the room

doyoung

“sorry to disturb-”

“heavens, what is on your feet?”

the women points out

you look down and think - isn’t it obvious? it’s just mud

“did you walk here?”

another voice, deeper, asks

you look up and see doyoung’s gaze fixed on you, a quill in one of his hands

“ah yes. my sibling took our horse here, but i generally do enjoy the exercise.”

taeyong is the only one in the room that gives a little laugh, the other two occupants eye you over again

“by the way, where is my sibling?”

taeyong hurries over and with a sympathetic look explains that they’ve caught a cold and are staying in one of the rooms upstairs

you vaguely remember how persistent your mother was about not allowing your sibling to take the carriage - even when the greying clouds had been peeking through

it was probably the plan all along, im sure sir taeyong has enjoyed taking care of them immensely

“ill take you!”

taeyong begins, but suddenly doyoung is at his side and as taeyongs hand reaches to hand you the key to the room - doyoungs interrupts and your hand brushes his instead

a small sound emits from you as you step back

but doyoung quickly turns away and calls for a maid to do it instead

you follow the maid up to the room

hands cradled in one and other as you push away the instances thats just happened into the corners of your mind

you unlock the door to the spacious room where your sibling is almost drowning in the extravagant velvet blankets in a lacquered black wooden bed

you can see that they’re paling and shivering and you think its ridiculous what people do to have the attention of someone they love

although, you’re pretty sure your sibling is innocent in the case of this situation

you talk for a bit and before you get up to go, their hand touches your wrist lightly

“i didnt know if it would be important to mention but sir doyoung asked about you.”

the surprise perks you up a bit

“what did he ask?”

“he asked if id relay an apology to you,,,,,,about his comment at the ball.”

as quickly as you’d been interested, you let out the tension in your shoulders

“ill tell him you did, but honestly im just more irritated he’s brought it up again.”

your sibling’s smile is weak and you leave them to rest

you intend to start the long walk back after you’ve excused yourself

but as you say your farewell in the drawing room, the sound of a chair pushing back breaks through your words

doyoung stands and the weight that has hung in the room since your arrival shifts

“ill see you out.”

you’re not sure if that’s a suggestion for which you should give an answer (your answer would be no) but he’s already making his brisk way toward the hall

you follow and are a little bit peeved that he doesn’t stop at the doors

you’re side by side now, and a well halfway through the sprawling path that leads off the property

the lack of explanation irks you - am i so unworthy of even a word?

you stop and he seems only to notice a few paces later as he turns around

there’s a good five or so feet between you - and from now on you think you’d like to keep it that way

“im sorry if this is crass, but i must ask - do you intend to make the treacherous walk back with me?”

“i-”

the high collar of his perfectly pressed shirt seems to stiffen around his neck

you can’t help yourself and jab for further measure:

“as you’ve noted about me before, the place where i come from is indicative of my class and so i dont think you’d like it much sir.”

his eyes - usually dull and cast to the side are suddenly transfixed on your own

“ive already inquired that your sibling pass on my sincerest apology for th-”

“oh don’t bother.”

you uncross your hands and the shawl falls a bit from your shoulder

it exposes just a bit of the curve of your neck from the swoop of the line of what you’re wearing and you don’t notice it in the split second of the motion

but the nape of doyoungs neck seems to sweat at the slightest baring of skin

“you don’t have to pretend to want to be in my company simply because your friend is entranced with someone from my family. although it may spite you that he has fallen for someone poor-”

“i never intended to insult you or your family. i apologize, but i don’t think i can keep repeating it until you’re satisfied if that’s what you are asking of me.”

your hands reach your hips now and you lean forward, the strands of your hair are still a little wild since you had no time to brush them back

and the stance makes doyoung take a careful step back

although he’s dealt with many prying persons in his life, and he’s been accustomed to earning the immediate dislike of them

something about you right now is less so an annoyance as it is - rather engrossing

he thinks if you come any closer the heat that’s its way up his jaw might tickle its way onto the rest of his face

“im not asking you to do anything for my pleasure, sir doyoung. i would never ask someone so untouchable to perform any kind of favor - especially not you.”

“not me?”

he snaps from the momentary daze of fascination

you straighten up and march forward, passing him and nearly brushing your shoulder against his

the steps are quick and you are deliberately making them loud to aid your message

but for some unknown reason they play out like a slow scene in doyoung’s mind

the smell of the dew and honey float by him in the ends of your trail and he swallows a lump that rarely ever grows in his throat

you turn back when you are once again at a good distance

“yes you, ive met enough new people in my life to know that some are just not meant to be my companions, much less even a neighbor to greet occasionally when we cross paths.”

your look is fiery, but not dotted with the usual sparks of momentary greed driven anger doyoung is so used to

instead the flames are yours, and although your expression reads as if you would like nothing more then to take a hold of his throat and wring him out

doyoung is in awe of the beauty that radiates from all around you - like a glowing halo of the setting sunlight

“and i believe you would agree as well - that you and i should keep our interactions to a minimum, and at best, we should never meet again at all!”

with that you start your march again - but his voice only reaches out to you after a minute of a pause

“i was going to offer that you take my carriage hom-”

“no thank you!”

you wave your hand and doyoung stands as he watches you disappear into the countryside

the rapid beating of his heart and sweat on his palms is new

its different

he’s never reacted like this to someone before

he doesnt realize he’s standing there thinking about the shadow of your back until taeyong runs out to ask him what happened

doyoung doesn’t know how to answer that

what did happen? you had chided him, but he would have done nothing more than to keep hearing such sweet, rude words come from your mouth again.

you keep walking - the fuming anger dying down a bit with each step as you think about the look on doyoung’s face

he hadn’t responded with as many quips as you’d expected, or even turned away to ignore you completely

you know you should forget, but as you near home you bring your hands together and the only thing left on your mind now

is how it had felt when your skin had brushed his

ugh - what i wouldn’t do to keep telling him off! although now im sure he’ll never want anything to do with me again.

oh, but how wrong you are.

#guess what one of my quarantine go-to movies is..................#i mean lizzy n darcy........queen n king of social distancing #doyoung scenarios #doyoung imagines #doyoung au #nct scenario #nct imagines #nct au #nct 127 #doyoung #member: doyoung #sfw

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headheartbellarke · 3 years

Text

Speak Now | WILLEX

dear @calamitykaty - happy valentine’s day! i’m your secret valentine, and i hope you have a brilliant, lovely day!! i just wanted to say that i absolutely adore your fics hehe :3 this one is for you, i hope u like it, you wonderful human!!

& a million thanks & kudos to @screwunsaidemily / @jatpsecretvalentine for organizing this!! happy valentine’s day, raegan! and i hope today is as amazing as you are!!

✿◕ ‿ ◕✿

PAIRING(s): Alex Mercer x Willie, Flynn x Carrie Wilson, Julie Molina x Luke Patterson, past!Alex Mercer x Luke Patterson

WARNING(s): nothing haha just some fluff and we stan bobby in this house.. oh and some language

WORDS: 3.85k

SUMMARY: With his boyfriend marrying Carrie Wilson (well, in his defence, that’s his grandmother’s ‘dying wish’), Willie fancies himself to be the main character of a Shakespearean tragedy. Based on Speak Now by Taylor Swift.

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Willie exhales, watching his breath crystallize into tiny ice particles. He extends a hand to catch them, but that action causes the little cloud to dissipate.

He rolls his eyes. Who has their wedding in Canada, in winter? Plus, not just on any day, but on Valentine’s Day.

He fancies that he might as well be the main character of a Shakespearean tragedy. Watching your boyfriend get married is painful enough, but to a girl? That shit makes you feel as if your heart has a screw lodged in it. He feels as if he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Willie likes to say that he hates Alex (i.e., the said boyfriend, the love, the light, the star of his life) – but that sentence leaves behind a bitter taste in his mouth, like he’s just had that weird cough syrup that his mother buys.

Alex’s friends can definitely see through his act, like, right now.

“Willie, relax! Everything’s gonna be alright!” Julie Molina, Alex’s bandmate, ‘unbiological sister’, and ‘best gossip partner’ exclaims. She is crouching beside him.

“Julie, I’m not the type of guy to crash a wedding and sabotage it, especially one hosted by those…” His hand moves in circular motions, pointing to the direction of the church, where Alex’s parents are probably seated.

Luke Patterson, Julie’s boyfriend and Alex’s ex-boyfriend, and current best friend and bandmate pipes in. “Homophobic, racist mingers?”

Willie grins. “Don’t know what that means but sounds accurate!”

“You know, we are saving Alex’s life, right? Literally?” Bobby Wilson chimes in, Alex’s other best friend from his position behind them. They are currently hiding behind a table laden with sweets of all kinds, and it makes Reggie, the last of Alex’s best friend-cum-bandmates’ mouth water.

“I still can’t believe that his parents are forcing him to marry a girl!” Julie exclaims, ponytail bobbing as she speaks. Luke adds, “Not just any girl, but Carrie fucking Wilson.”

“My fucking cousin!” Bobby says, looking behind to check if anyone’s there. There is, but they’re all either part of the caterer’s group, or the waiters – they are currently outside a church, where the reception will be held, post wedding. The attendees, the families, everyone – are inside the church, for the wedding.

“Hey, is Grandma Ruth really that sick?” Reggie finally asks, his eyes diverting from the sweets. Luke smiles sweetly at him. “I’m glad you finally decided to join us, Reginald.”

Reggie fails to catch the sarcasm in his tone, and he smiles brightly. Luke rolls his eyes, but a faint smile teases the corners of his lips. “Yeah, she really has stage four cancer.”

Julie says, “Poor Ruth.”

Luke huffs, “I don’t care that she’s dying – she shouldn’t fucking blackmail her grandson like that! Alex, honey, I’m dying. My dying wish, you ask? Marry someone. No, not your boyfriend of four years! Marry a girl, dummy. Homosexuality is a sin!”

Bobby adds, “Not just any girl, but your best friend’s cousin! Whose probably into Flynn, but, yeah, whatever.”

Julie smiles brightly at the mention of her best friend. “Oh, she definitely is.”

Reggie’s brows quirk. “I thought she was still into Nick.”

Bobby shakes his head. “They broke up last summer.”

Willie clears his throat, finally gaining some confidence. “He shouldn’t be marrying the wrong girl.” He exhales, and adds, as an afterthought, “Or any girl.”

“You two should be walking down the aisle, Willie.” Julie says, resting a hand on his shoulder. He nods, grateful for her support.

He remembers this morning, when he was at the grocery store, buying as many buckets of chocolate ice cream as he could fit in his arms. Suddenly, he had felt a warm hand wrap around the back of his throat, and he let out a yelp, dropping all the buckets.

He remembers thinking that the universe was against him. First, it’s the day of his boyfriend’s wedding, and along with that, someone’s here to kill him. Well, he thought, it’s better to die than –

“Willie!” A familiar voice exclaimed, and of course, it’s Julie – he realized that the hand that he thought was here to murder him, belonged to her. She was dressed in a long, pink, A-Line dress, that complimented her skin tone perfectly and – suddenly, Willie understood that it was a bridesmaid’s dress. Yep, she’s Carrie’s bridesmaid, along with Flynn.

Willie wondered if she was here to rub salt on his wound.

“What do you want?” He had mumbled, averting his gaze from her dress. Sure, it’s a pretty dress, but it reminds him of Alex, because he has a hoodie that he adores in the same colour. (It’s in Willie’s closet now, and he makes a mental note to burn it.)

“We have a plan.” She said, conspiratorially.

Willie sighed, leaning down to pick up the fallen containers of ice cream. “I’m not in the mood, Jules.”

She grinned, evilly. Or as evilly as you could while having an angelic face.

Sure, it took her a while to convince him to crash his boyfriend’s wedding, but on the way here, he felt as if it was worth it. Julie helped sneak him in, since he doesn’t have an invite – and he found the rest of Alex’s friends – Luke, Reggie, and Bobby waiting for him.

Now, as Carrie’s family emerges from the church doors, he doesn’t feel that way anymore.

“God, I think I’m gonna throw up just by looking at them.” Luke murmurs, while Julie slaps his shoulder. “Don’t say that, they look very… colourful.”

Bobby snorts.

Carrie’s family includes her parents, two of her cousin sisters and an aunt – and they are all dressed in pastel yellow. To be really honest, that colour looks like vomit. They stand in a circle in front of the church doors, and Willie notices her aunt rolling her eyes at the waiters. He sighs. This is the same aunt who told Carrie that ‘oh, honey, it’s just a phase’, when she came out as bisexual.

“Guys, guys, guys!”

Willie sees his cousin, Flynn, running in their direction, and stopping at their table. She huffs, catching her breath and he notices that she’s wearing the same dress that Julie is.

“Carrie is losing her shit, dude.” She says, once she’s breathing normally again. “Why?” Julie asks, concerned.

“Probably because she doesn’t wanna marry Alex? I don’t know, but she yelled at me for eating!” She exclaims, an annoyed expression taking over her face.

Willie and Bobby exchange a look – they all know that Carrie can get a little intense sometimes – she doesn’t mean harm, but on a day like this, you can’t really hold it against her.

“Where is she?” Julie asks, alarmed.

“She’s in the back. Her mom misplaced her veil, and its total chaos out there. Also, her gown looks like a fucking pastry.”

Everyone’s eyes widen, and Flynn sighs, looking away. “I hate everything.”

Willie knows that she’s feeling just the way he is.

Julie stands up. “Come on, let’s help her. And boys?” She points a finger in their direction. “Stick to the fucking plan.”

Everyone nods rapidly, and Reggie whispers, “Yes, mam.”

She kisses Luke, whispering something in his ear, and squeezes Willie’s shoulder, giving him a sympathetic look, before running off in the opposite direction with Flynn.

Watching Julie and Luke, Willie is suddenly overpowered by a memory, a memory that was gathering dust in his brain. He remembers a cold, dark winter morning in their – his and Alex’s – apartment. It was last year, and their first morning in that apartment, in their home. They were nineteen and couldn’t get enough of each other – even after three years of being together. Somehow, somewhere they felt as if an invisible string was pulling them closer and closer, until they merged into one.

He remembers Alex combing his fingers through Willie’s hair, and whispering, “Is it crazy if I say that this is everything that I’ve ever wanted in life?”

He had smiled, eyes filled to the brim with euphoria. “No, then that would mean that I’m crazy.”

“We’re both crazy.”

“Maybe.” He had pulled him closer, loving the way Alex buried his face in the crook of his neck.

“Willie?” Alex softly asked, drawing patterns on his bare skin.

“Hmm?”

“I want to wake up next to you every single day. Like, I don’t ever wanna be without you,”

“Me, too.” He had said, then adding, “I don’t see myself marrying if not you.”

He could feel his boyfriend’s grin. “Not gonna lie, I’ve thought about it. A little.”

“A little?”

“Okay, I’ve planned it all out.” They both laughed, and Willie felt as if he was flying.

Alex continued, “I imagine us getting married on a beautiful summer day – on the beach. Where we met all those years ago. Remember?”

Willie smiled. “How could I forget? I will love Flynn forever for bringing me to Julie’s sweet sixteen – I never thought that I’d meet my soulmate that day.”

“Yeah. I imagine Luke to be my best man, and Flynn to be yours. Julie and Carrie would be our groomsmaids, yep, I invented that – and Reggie and Bobby could be the other best men. It’s a little messy, because I love them all so much and I can’t choose – but yeah.”

“Funny that your ex-boyfriend will be your best man at our wedding.”

“Shut up, Willie.”

“Carlos could be the ring bearer.”

“I think he’s a little too old for that.”

“Well, you have a point. But he’s gonna be pissed if he doesn’t get a title like his sister does.”

“All right, he’ll be the ring bearer.”

“We could have a skateboard shaped cake.”

“We will… think about it.”

“And we won’t need a band!”

“I’m not playing at my own wedding!”

“Well, Bobby could take your place. I’m sure he won’t mind taking a day off his solo touring.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

As they went over every possibility, every dream, the world melted away and all Willie could see were the oceans in Alex’s eyes.

Luke’s voice dissipates the haze of nostalgia around Willie’s brain. “Yep, Carrie’s family went inside.”

Bobby nods. “Okay, Willie, you stay with Reggie and Luke – I’ll go inside first and distract everyone, and y’all will come at my signal.” With that, he runs towards the church.

“Uh… what is his signal…” Willie trails off. Luke and Reggie exchange a panicked look, as Reggie says, “I’m sure we’ll figure it out! Besides – oh my god, are those flamingos?��

Willie and Luke’s eyes dart to the church door, where a bunch of flamingos – Carrie’s favorite bird, apparently – are on the loose and the waiters and the staff are running around trying to catch them.

“Boys, I think that’s our signal.” Luke says, grabbing their hands and dragging them towards the back of the church, where the girls had previously disappeared into.

Luke sneezes, and Willie absentmindedly whispers a ‘bless you.’ He shifts, saying, “There’s so much dirt here! It’s like nobody cares about my allergies!”

“I’m sure nobody in Canada will ever care about your allergies, Patterson.” Flynn hisses.

The trio are currently hiding behind a curtain, the lilac shades sickening them. “Well, you wouldn’t be in this position if Alex’s lovely bride-to-be didn’t uninvite me!” Willie exclaims, looking around to make sure nobody is nearby.

“I’m sure she has a very good reason!” Flynn says, and Luke rolls his eyes, saying, “You’re saying that as if you don’t know Carrie. She’s hyper fixating on this wedding to distract herself from the fact that her parents will never accept her for who she is, from her fear about the fact that she’ll never get someone who sees and loves her for who she is and right now, she believes that this wedding would gain her parents’ favour, that somehow they’d be okay with her being bisexual if she’s married a man, a gay man at that, too – and now she’s doing everything in her power to make sure nothing gets fucked up.”

Willie and Flynn sharply look at Luke.

“Dude, that was deep.” He whispers. Flynn dabs the corner of her right eye. “You should be a therapist, bro.”

“I know, bro.” He grins.

Willie can’t stop a smile from breaking out on his face. He turns back to the scene in front of him, and his heart seizes because there’s Alex, dressed in a perfect tuxedo, with his hair perfectly done, with a perfect smile on his face, and Willie realizes that that is not the man he loves.

The man standing in front of him looks too pristine, too immaculate. It’s almost as if he is being strung up by invisible puppet strings, but his face doesn’t give away any of that – it’s absolutely blank, and Willie would have thought that the man in the front is not real if he hadn’t seen his eyes. His eyes, which houses cyclones, cyclones being fed by the apprehension, the fear, the anger, the sadness that he must be feeling inside. His eyes, that Willie loves to see first thing in the morning, showing off the parts of his soul that he is desperately trying to shield.

Willie wonders if he’ll see him standing behind the curtains. He probably won’t. Willie’s at the back of the room, and he’s at the front, waiting, waiting, waiting. For a moment, Willie wonders if Carrie is going to show up at all – because the wedding was supposed to start half an hour ago, and it doesn’t make sense why a person who has never been late in her entire life, would be late on her wedding day.

He doesn’t have to wonder long, though. The organ starts to play ‘Here Comes the Bride’, and honestly it sounds more like a death march. Willie is reminded, yet again, of another reason why this is not what Alex wants – he wants to play ‘Lover’ by Taylor Swift at his wedding.

Willie takes in a sharp breath when Carrie enters. She looks like a pageant queen – wearing a beautiful, white, classic dress. In one hand, she holds her dad’s arm, and in the other, there is a bouquet of daisies.

Flynn whispers. “I have to go. Boys, do not mess this up. Or I swear I’ll kill you.”

As the duo watch her run to the front of the room, Willie whispers, “Does she know about Carrie’s big, fat crush?”

Luke snorts. “You think so? Come on, let’s sit. They won’t be able to see us here.”

As they crouch down and make their way to the benches, Willie casts one last look at Alex, and he knows, he knows that Alex wishes it was Willie walking down the aisle instead.

“Speak now, or forever hold your peace.” The preacher says, and Willie’s heart erupts into a frenzy. As the room goes completely silent, Luke whispers, “That’s your cue, Willie.”

Ignoring his anxiety, he stands up with his hands shaking, and his brain telling him to just fucking run out the doors.

Alex’s eyes widen, relief flooding his features, and for a moment, he looks like the real Alex again. Willie catches Julie and Flynn’s eyes, who are standing beside Carrie, and they nod at him, enthusiastically. But the bride, Carrie – she looks absolutely horrified. And so does all the other people in this room, including Alex’s parents, his grandma Ruth, and Carrie’s parents, too.

From Alex’s right side, Reggie and Bobby give him encouraging looks, and finally, he averts his eyes back to the man he loves.

But he can’t say anything. He feels as if he’s frozen in time, and his mind completely blanks out. For a moment he wonders if this is his rock bottom.

But Luke comes to the rescue, thrusting a guitar in his hands, and breaking him out of his trance. “I remember you told me that you can always sing, even if the world was ending. So, I brought this along, as backup.”

It’s true. Music is a part of his soul, much like it is Alex’s. Music is what connected them in the first place, and music is what still keeps them connected now.

He positions the guitar, and notices that it’s Luke’s acoustic guitar. He strums it, and finally, his mind comes back to himself. He keeps his eyes trained on that of Alex, and he watches the storm of emotions in his irises.

“I am not the kind of guy, who should be rudely barging in on a white veiled occasion…” He sings, loving how Taylor Swift has written a song for every occasion.

“But you are not the kind of boy, who should be marrying the wrong girl!” He sings and hears loud gasps around the room – he knows that people expected him to be in love with Carrie or something.

“Or any girl!” Reggie adds, and Alex grins, and that gives him the motivation to continue.

“So, don't say yes, run away now. I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door… Don't wait or say a single vow – You need to hear me out, and they said speak now!”

He drags the ‘now’ for as long as he can, because he knows that the silence that will follow will be excruciating. And it is. Alex just stares at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

Willie finally looks at Carrie, and when their eyes meet, she gives him an odd look. He half expected her to kill him, but the way she looks at him, it’s almost as if she’s relieved.

Alex clears his throat, the sound piercing through the silence of the room. Whispers arise, and Willie exchanges a look with Luke, who asks him, “You want me to dig you a hole to die?”

Before he can nod, Alex says, “Uh…” He fiddles with his hands, before finally saying, “Fuck it”, and untying his tie. His mother gasps, and his father stands up, but he raises a hand.

He locks eyes with Willie, and his world spins on its axis.

“You are not the kind of guy to be rudely barging in on a white veiled occasion…But I am not the kind of boy… who should be marrying the wrong girl… or any girl!” Alex sings in that raspy voice of his, and Willie feels his heart soar. He can’t help the grin from escaping on his face, and he knows that his eyes are what Julie calls, ‘heart eyes.’ Luke grabs the guitar from Willie’s hand and starts playing along.

“And you'll say let's run away now, and I'll meet you when I'm out of my tux at the back door,”

Alex walks down the aisle, but suddenly remembers something, or rather, someone. He turns around, locking eyes with Carrie, and Willie can’t see what he’s saying, but Carrie smiles a big, soft one – one probably no one has ever seen on her face, and he sees her mouth ‘go.’

“Baby, I didn't say my vows, so glad you were around; when they said speak now!”

He finishes, and stands in front of Willie, and Willie knows that the both of them can feel the air electrifying between them.

He turns, facing his grandmother. “Grandma, I’m sorry, but you’re 93, and I’m 20. I’m not going to give up my life for you to live. I love you, though. Mom, Dad, I’m truly sad that I’m not what you wanted. But I’m not gonna apologize for being myself, nor am I gonna apologize for loving who I want to. This is my life, and maybe it’s time that I start acting like it. I can’t keep wasting my life to please you. You – you should love me for who I am, that’s what good parents do.” Alex’s voice cracks, and Willie intertwines their fingers. Alex squeezes his hand.

Carrie’s mom stands up, shaking her head. “No, no, no… you do not get to ruin my daughter’s wedding –”

Alex’s father stands beside her, his face matching the shade of Carrie’s red lipstick. “I will not accept this –”

“Will?” Alex whispers, his eyes trained on his father.

“Yeah?”

“Run.”

With that, Alex tightens his hold on Willie’s hand, and the both of them run down the aisle, and outside. Willie can hear an uproar behind him, but it fades to background noise behind the thump of his heart.

“That was so fucking romantic!” Alex exclaims, as they come to a stop before Willie’s car.

“I just…”

“Wait – I’m sorry, Willie. I shouldn’t have put you through that. I should’ve fought more; I should’ve run away or something. That was not okay. I’m a twenty-year-old adult, and I should – I should – learn to be it, and not hurt any – anyone –”

“Hey, hey, hey…” Willie says, stepping closer to Alex. “It’s alright. They’re your parents. It’s not your fault that you want their approval. But I just want you to know that I love you, all of you, for who you are. And all of us do – Luke, Julie, Bobby, Reggie, Flynn, and even Carrie. We all love you, for who you are, and we’re always gonna be by your side.”

He smiles, cupping Willie’s face. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I – I love you so fucking much.” He kisses Willie, and the latter feels like he is floating amongst the stars.

“That – everything inside – from this tux to the decorations was horrible. I’m really glad that you… you know, stopped it.” Alex says, rubbing his thumb around Willie’s cheek.

He shrugs. “Well, it was your friends’ idea.”

“Of course it was.”

“Guys! Guys, guys, guys!”

Willie and Alex break out of their embrace at Carrie’s voice, who is currently running towards them, her dress bunched in her hands. Flynn is following her, holding her veil in her arms. Julie, Luke, Bobby, and Reggie are behind them, and they all have a look of panic plastered on their faces.

Flynn yells. “Carrie might’ve told your and her parents to fuck off, and your grandma to just die already, and so there’s a fair chance that we’re all gonna get killed, now that everyone knows that we’re all behind this.”

“Also, I threw red wine at our aunt’s dress, Carrie!” Bobby yells.

“I might have told your parents that they’re failures, and Julie and I are your real parents, Alex!” Luke yells.

“Also, Flynn and I are getting married!” Carrie yells.

Alex’s eyes widen, and he looks at Willie. “I think we all need to run.”

Willie nods, and he looks around. Maybe they will get killed (probably not), and maybe everything is a little crazy right now – but what he knows is that all of them are a family, and that he’d do anything for them. He also knows that Alex is worth everything, and that someday, they will get married, just the way they want, with the people that love them just the way they are.

Plus, is it weird to say that he kind of feels like Taylor Swift right now?

33 notes · View notes

drawlfoy · 4 years

Text

The Wonders of Ohio P.5

masterlist (check here for parts 1-4!) request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: from 14 year old me babey

warnings: cringe, mentions of drug use, mentions of sex, language, and just bad writing

summary: y/n is in her senior year of high school when she is asked to take on an exchange student from britain that’s a little...different. this is NOT a nonmagic AU. draco is still a wizard and this will become and integral part of the story shortly.

a/n: heyyyy everyone. i graduated from high school this week and i’m posting this as my happy-one-year-to-me. as some of you may know, i posted my very first fic on this day a year ago. i’m really happy to see how i’ve grown since and i’m so lucky to have shared this with all of you. anyways, nittygritty--

this part is really the last slow exposition chapter. chapters 6 on will be a whole whirlwind beginning with homecoming and i hope that you guys are willing to stick around. i promise itll be worth the wait. y/n is going to get the story arc of a lifetime and also please do not hate heather she is just going through it ok

anywayssssssss

tags tags tags @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural

word count: 4.6k (;))

song recs:

strawberry blonde -- mitski

in your neighbors garden -- mimi bay

wishes -- beach house

ode to artifice -- samia

pink in the night -- mitski

enjoy <3

The seatbelt buckle scorched the side of Y/N’s exposed neck as she turned to face the disheveled blonde in the passenger seat.

“Do I need to teach you to set an alarm?”

Draco let out a huff. “Stop. Do you have a….a comb, or a brush, or something here?” His hands looked abnormally fidgety. Their actions were shaky, varying from patting his pockets to running through his hair. He seemed more and more frustrated each time his hands left his pockets empty.

How curious Y/N thought as she racked her brain for any remembrance of putting a brush in her car. It was always a mess, and she honestly couldn’t blame Draco for assuming that anything could be in there.

“I don’t think there’s one here,” said Y/N, trying to sound at least a little sympathetic despite the fact that his tardiness had them 10 minutes late. “You can look around if you want, king.”

“What’d you call me?” His voice was suddenly sharp and awake.

Y/N rolled her eyes so hard that she thought they’d get stuck in the back of her head. “You don’t--ok. It’s a joke. You can call guys here that.”

“And it means that I’m…?”

“It means I’m acknowledging that you exist, I guess. It’s not like it has a strict negative or positive connotation. Like, I can say ‘Ok king’ to any man telling me something and it can either be sarcastic, or it can be because I don’t know what else to say and just want to let him know I heard him.”

Draco’s eyes looked a tad glazed over when Y/N dared a glance in his direction.

“I know it’s confusing. I’m sorry. I’ll try and ease you into the world of American slang.”

He granted her a little “uh-huh” before opening up the glovebox with great difficulty and rummaging through the mess. Y/N would’ve felt more embarrassed about the tampon that fell on the ground in the process if he seemed like he actually knew what it was.

Her attention turned back to the road as Draco continued to sift through things. Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if there was anything embarrassing hidden away in the corners of her car--after all, it hadn’t been organized since the beginning of summer--and decided that it was better to pretend it wasn’t happening.

It wasn’t the eerie silence that eventually prompted her to turn to look his direction--no, it was the weird energy in the car, like the feeling right before a thunderstorm. All the hair raised on her arms, and she shivered...but it was stifling hot in the car.

“Oh, did you find a brush?” she asked. His hair laid as perfectly as always, but his hands were lying shaking in his lap, palms to the sky. No hairbrush was in sight.

“Er... “ He was paler than usual, which was quite the feat for someone who looked like a ream of paper. “No. Just remembered a trick my father taught me.”

She tensed at the mention of his father--the very first time Draco had done so. “Oh. Okay. Glad you got it figured out, king.”

Her voice lightened on the last word, hoping she could coax a little smile out of him.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Ok.”

oOo

There were many things Y/N thought she understood, but Draco Malfoy being in her Physics C class was not one of them. She took pity and sat next to him as he fumbled his way through the first lecture. His notes, while neat, were littered with crossed out portions and question marks.

You do know there’s an eraser on your pencil, right? she jotted on a note that she sent his way. His brow furrowed and he seemed to tap at the end of the eraser for just a few moments before deciding otherwise and xing out another practice problem he’d done incorrectly. Symbols that she’d never seen before were scattered all throughout his notes.

Maybe the UK kids just learn stuff differently.

By the time that Physics came to an end, Y/N was eager to get away from the storm cloud that was brewing over Draco’s perfectly smoothed and infuriatingly pretty moonbeam colored hair. The amount of attention he was getting from all the other girls made Y/N want to jump off a cliff--suddenly everyone was her “best friend” “just wanting to check up on what happened over summer”. She was grateful to see the face of Lizzy, grinning and looking mischievous during their break period.

“You must be Draco,” said the redhead, a glint in her eyes. He looked a little scared.

“Er...yeah.”

“Mind giving us some privacy? Y/N and I have some urgent matters to discuss,” she continued, looking him up and down. Y/N attempted to ignore the twist in her gut as she watched him swallow and nod, turning away to go brood elsewhere. Once he was out of sight, Lizzy grabbed her arm and yanked her into the girl’s bathroom.

“It’s so funny how he’s following you around like a lost puppy,” Lizzy said. “Also, he’s gorgeous. If you don’t at least try to get some of that, then I’m never trusting your judgement again.”

“But, Li-”

“The boy’s a fucking walking Wattpad story cover. Dark, tragic past, unbelievably sharp jawline, rich parents, exotic accent....honestly, Y/N, I don’t know what else you could want.”

“Mom literally called him my host brother,” said Y/N. The bathroom was starting to smell suspiciously like cotton candy. “That’s wrong. On so many levels.”

“But you’re not related!”

“But it’s gross! And predatory! The kid doesn’t even know how to do basic algebra! I’m all he has!”

Lizzy’s eyebrow found its new home in the middle of her forehead. “You’ve gone absolutely batty if you think that every girl cursed with attraction to men in Cincinnati wouldn’t jump his skin at the chance. Use your head, queenie. He’s not alone. Shoot your shot.”

Y/N opened her mouth to serve back a retort--that was definitely there, thank you very much--but decided against it once she realized that the bathroom had become dead silent. “Um...maybe we can go over this later.” She flickered her eyes over to the line behind them that was now intently hanging on their every word. “I forgot I had to talk to the counselor.”

Lizzy was smirking as they exited the bathroom and began the search for Draco. It didn’t take long--the circle comprised of Heather and her friends was more than enough of a giveaway that he was about.

“Draco, sorry to make you wait,” Y/N called out. It took all her effort to abstain from cringing as her voice rang out across the group. Heather turned to send her a big smile.

“Hey Y/N! You didn’t tell me that Draco was from London!”

“He’s not,” she responded. “He’s from Wiltshire.”

“Wiltshire. Of course. That’s what I meant.”

Draco’s smile was tense as he looked down at Heather--who stood roughly 4 inches below him--but he was smiling, and that wasn’t something that Y/N was on the receiving end of frequently. She didn’t know whether to be offended or relieved.

“I’m sure. Break’s almost over, Draco. I can show you where the English department is before the time is up.”

He paused, looking down at the blonde grinning up at him. “Er, actually, Heather already offered to show me around for the rest of the day.”

“Yeah, for sure. I’ll see you in French.”

Y/N was shocked at the sheer amount of jealousy that rose up in her throat as she turned away and made her way to Art History---the only class Y/N and Draco didn’t share. The walk was strange. Being in solitude after having a gloomy British boy attached to her hip was understandably eerie. Because that’s all it was. Adjustment. Nothing else.

She settled in at a table full of her friends, namely Sylvia. The tall girl was always a bit whimsical, but Y/N found that she was a breath of fresh air compared to everyone else. It made sense that Sylvia would take Art History--her dark academic inspired aura and the perpetually hot mug of black coffee just screamed history nut.

“How’s your new brother?” she asked after the teacher had taken attendance. “I say that because I haven’t heard his name yet.”

“Ick, it’s gross to think of him as my brother,” Y/N responded. “And I know! We need to catch up. I’m sorry about not talking to you for a bit. The time difference was a bit weird during your trip.”

“It’s ok, I get it. I was away on family business, anyways. I didn’t expect you to spend your days staying up until the wee hours of the night to tell me all about your exchange student. Anyways. His name?”

“You’re gonna scream when you hear it, Vie,” she said. “Draco Malfoy. It’s so posh. You have no idea. It definitely suits him, though. He’s very...You good?”

Sylvia’s olive toned face looked a bit paler than usual. “Yeah. Yeah, I just remembered that I forgot to take the trash out this morning. I’ll have to text my mom about it.” She adjusted the wool cardigan that hung around her shoulders and came up looking composed. “Draco, huh? His parents must hate him.”

“At the very least! He’s so rude. And uptight. I can’t tell if it’s just a Brit thing or if it’s because he’s an asshole.”

Sylvia laughed. “I mean, when I was there over the summer, it was a different culture for sure. We’re by far louder. But I didn’t meet many mean ones. You must’ve just got a bad apple, then.”

“I guess so. He is pret--”

“Ladies, is there something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?”

“No, Mrs. Jensen,” Sylvia and Y/N said in unison.

oOo

“Thoughts, king?”

“I told you not to call me that.” Draco glared at her as he tried to open the passenger side door to find that it was locked tight. “Unlock? Please?”

“And I told you not to get cozy with ASB kids, yet here we are,” said Y/N as she slotted the key into the lock and turned.

“What’s it to you?”

“Nothing. I’m just looking out for you.” She slammed the door shut and threw her bag in the bag. The line of traffic to get out of the school was long and stuffy, and she was eager to just get it over with.

The wait was so hot that Draco peeled off his stupid formalish jacket that was on thin ice of being called a blazer and probably worth more than her car. Y/N tried to look away as his hair became slightly ruffled, but she couldn’t pry her eyes away. It was endearing, almost, how someone who could look so posh and serious could have ruffly hair--and hair that naturally light, too. She had asked him one night if it was dyed, and he scowled at her and told her the grammatically correct term was dead, and that his hair was alive, just like the rest of him, thank you very much. She dropped it.

Y/N finally rolled down her window after the AC simply refused to satisfy her, and the wind was a nice reminder to keep in her own lane. Draco was beautiful. There was no other way to put it. He had a feel of power to him, like he was capable of anything but just held it back. But he was just as inaccessible as he was pretty, and there was nothing she could do about that.

“Y/N?” He asked after a few moments of sitting in silence. “What’s Homecoming?”

“Who told you about that?”

“Heather. She asked if I had a date. Is that like a ball here?”

“She asked you if you had a date on the first day?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck. ASB kids never do sleep, huh.”

“What?”

“Homecoming isn’t a ball. It’s like a...an…” Y/N paused as she saw Draco raise his eyebrows. “It’s, like, uh….Well I guess it is like a ball. An American one, though. Way less extravagant. It’s an excuse to get dressed up and run around the city. There technically is a dance, and all the ASB kids have to go, but literally no one else does but the underclassmen. Normally I go out with my friends and a date to somewhere fun and take pictures. And then get trashed afterwards.”

“Classy,” said Draco. “I think you can go now.”

A honk behind her emphasized his point as the space in between her and the car in front widened substantially.

“Thanks. Anyways, it’s not really a big deal. I’d suggest not going with Heather so you can skip out on the dance portion. Or if you want to go with her, get her to come with us into Cincinnati because I am not going to spend my last homecoming watching a grind circle.”

“A...what circle? And I don’t want to go with her.”

The relief Y/N felt was embarrassing. “Um...better if you don’t worry about it. You have a long time to figure it out anyways.”

He seemed satisfied with that answer, propping his elbow up on the center console. The pristine button up he was wearing had ridden up, exposing the pale skin and the bottom of the tattoo she had seen a hint of earlier. “Do you have a date?”

“Um. No, not yet. I don’t think anyone except for couples do yet. We have until the end of this month to figure it out, so I’m not too worried about it.”

He nodded as Y/N’s car finally left the school parking lot and began picking up speed.

“I’m assuming you had balls? At your posh boarding school?”

“Er…” Draco ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it further. “We only had one. It was when I was 14. We called it the Yule Ball.”

“Why only one?”

“It was for a special occasion. We had two other schools join us as well. It was quite a good time.”

“So every student only has one ball in their lifetime?”

“Of course not. Some of us--the ones from old families--have events like that regularly.”

“I’m sorry if this is overstepping my bounds,” began Y/N, noticing how he tensed up, “So you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. But, I’m just wondering, what is your family like?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like are they nice?”

“Oh.” The line in his forehead relaxed. “No. They wouldn’t like you.”

“Glad to hear it,” she said. “Do you like them?”

She heard the breath hitch in his throat. “I don’t know anymore.”

“I’m sure it’s hard to think about it when you feel like they’ve just shipped you off without anyone,” she added. “I’m really sorry, Draco. I know I’ve been a bit mean to you. I know that I’ll never be able to understand what you’re going through right now.”

The slight smile that spread across his face would’ve knocked her to her knees if she wasn’t already sitting down. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

The silence that awaited them for the rest of the journey was comfortable.

oOo

School began to pick up the pace after the first few days. Y/N got into the swing of homework and her extracurricular workload. Draco was having a bit more difficulty, she presumed, but he’d never admit to it. She took pity one evening and gave him her laptop opened to a Khan Academy tab for Physics and was pleased to see that he showed up to class the next day with completed homework. He asked to borrow her laptop on a much more frequent basis after that.

The routine they settled into had her heart leaping into her chest almost constantly--they’d eat breakfast together at the table, Y/N would try to ignore how pretty he looked across the table as they shared a pot of black tea (earl grey, which Y/N was thrilled to learn was his favorite as well), they’d get in the car, she’d write him notes in physics to help him (even though he never asked, he always smile and give a little shake of his head before unfolding them and intently staring at her writing), they’d drive home together and bitch about their French teacher, he’d retire to his room and do whatever pretty blonde Brits do in the afternoon, they’d meet unexpectedly at the same time in the late evening to have a final cup of tea, and then they’d go to bed and do it all over again.

It was difficult for her to admit, but Y/N was falling very quickly for Draco. It was gross, and wrong, and manipulative, and completely against the code of conduct for exchange families, but she couldn’t help but spend her days fantasizing about how his gold-spun hair would feel as she ran her fingers through it or how gently she’d trace her fingers around the tattoo on the soft flesh of his forearm…

But Y/N knew those thoughts weren’t right. And they would go away. Eventually.

“How’s it going?” Sylvia asked, effectively snapping her out of her thoughts. The Art History sub told them to go into independent study, whatever that meant. Y/N was not very good at either of those words.

“Pretty good. I can’t believe it’s been 3 weeks already,” she said. “It’s gonna be Halloween before we know it.”

“I can’t fucking waitttt,” said Sylvia. “I’m gonna be Wednesday Addams.”

“Again?”

“What else would I be? I get a new high collared black dress every year. It’d be a shame if it were going to go to waste. What are you gonna be?”

“One of the thousands of students finishing their UChicago ED app hours before the deadline.”

“You’re kidding. Can’t you just finish it the day before?”

“Where’s the fun in that? And, plus, I don’t have an idea as cool as Wednesday.”

Sylvia smirked as she opened up her planner and began to jot down something. “How’s Draco doing? I haven’t seen much of him lately. It seems like he never hangs out with us at break anymore.”

“Yeah, I ended up getting him connected with the Physics teacher. He’s getting tutored now. He thinks it’s all bullshit, but I don’t want to be the reason he doesn’t get into a good school.”

“Is that all you care about?” She smiled at Y/N. “Lizzy was telling me that you’re interested in him.”

“First of all, keep your voice down. Second of all, I’m not supposed to be, so I’m not.” Y/N hoped that the edge in her voice was convincing enough.

Her friend raised her eyebrows so dramatically that her glasses nearly slipped off her nose. “Y/N, who’s gonna hear about it. You guys are both going away at the end of the year anyways, and I’m sure he’s not going to be writing to his dear mum about his love life. If it’s consensual, there’s nothing wrong with it. I think it’d be good for both of you.”

“I see that, but let’s put me in his shoes right now.” Y/N shuffled in her seat and clasped her hands. “I’m rich. I’m British. I’m very hot. My parents throw extravagant balls for me and I kiss pretty girls that say water like ‘wota’. I’ve spent my life in silk and I only drink the finest teas. My family is so important that I had to be shipped off halfway across the world just to be safe. And now my incredibly expensive life has reached a peak because I’m sleeping with a random girl in Ohio that has run approximately 4 stop signs since I’ve met her.”

“You’re sleeping with Draco?”

Y/N turned to see Lauren, a wide-eyed, obnoxious, but well meaning girl staring at her. She heard Sylvia stifle a laugh behind her. “No. I was kidding.” The smile that she followed with was awkward and showed way too many teeth.

“Oh, okay,” said Lauren. “Do you know if he likes anyone?”

Sylvia’s smirk widened.

“No, actually, he’s a pretty private guy.” Y/N sent her another tense smile, and Lauren finally turned away.

“Jealous, huh?”

“Shut up, Vie. You know I wouldn’t go for him. Even if I had the chance.”

She just raised an eyebrow and smiled.

The afternoon brought its own set of struggles. Their French teacher had blown up at another student who had been caught cheating on their last test, and it was all Y/N could do but hold back her snickers until they were out in the parking lot.

“I can’t believe they still managed to conjugate their cheat sheet wrong.” Y/N was gasping for breath as she unlocked the car door and threw her stuff inside. Draco was watching from the passenger seat, his lips in a soft upturn. “Can you imagine? Oh my god.”

He just shook his head and turned to look out the window, but she could see the smile slowly stretching across his face. “Ridiculous. You could totally tell Monsieur enjoyed it, too. I bet he gets off on making kids like Joey cry.”

“I had a teacher like that,” he started. “He was a Poti-a chemistry teacher.”

“Oh? Did he ever attack you?”

“No. He liked me. Family friends and all.”

“Ah. I almost forgot that your family was rich and influential. Thanks for the reminder.” She reached across and lightly punched his shoulder. His smile, though still remaining, seemed to shrink. “Hey, what’s that in your bag?”

Y/N motioned to the cardstock peeking out of his nondescript black backpack that always seemed to fit more than it was meant to. She could make out a few words written in what looked like a bright red sharpie--something that did not exactly scream Draco Malfoy aesthetic.

He froze up. “Er. It’s from Heather. I think she called it a Homecoming ask?”

Y/N’s throat dried up to the point that no words would willingly make the climb from her diaphragm to her tongue; instead, she settled for giving him a little nod and what she hoped was a convincing smile.

“I told her I’d think about it,” he continued. “I remember you saying that the school dances sucked. So I let her know that I wasn’t sure yet.”

She nodded again. “Super cool. You can do whatever you want, though. You can come with my group if you’d like, but you’re welcome to go with Heather’s.”

“What? So you aren’t coming with me if I go with Heather?”

“Fuck no, dude. I don’t hate her, but I would way prefer to spend a night with my friends than some girl from my French class that only talks to me because she thinks you’re hot.”

The expression Draco made reminded Y/N that he would never get comfortable with American girls calling him hot. “Ok. Have you found a date yet?”

“Chad from Econ asked me yesterday.”

“Is that why my seat was covered in glitter?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going with him?” Draco’s hand was clenched tight in a fist in his lap.

“I think so,” said Y/N, steeling herself and deciding to just go for it. “But, of course, if you asked me I would say no to Chad. Just out of principle. I am supposed to be your tour guide, after all.”

The only parts of him moving were the few stray wisps of his hair being pushed around by the AC going.

“But that’d be weird. I’d only expect you to take that up if you really didn’t want to go to the dance itself.” She swallowed and pulled out onto the main street, putting distance between them and the school. He was silent for a few moments. The quiet, normally comfortable between them, was stifling and strange. She pretended to ignore the way he was fiddling with his cuffs.

“Yeah, it could be,” was all he said before slumping against the window and closing his eyes.

Mrs. Y/L/N was sitting at the head of the coffee table when the two arrived home, carding between a stack of letters in front of her. The mug of something--probably that new decaf blend she hadn’t stopped raving about--was sitting lopsided on a coaster, just barely about to topple off the edge. She looked like she hadn’t moved for hours, the novel she had been previously reading sat face down to preserve the spot next to her no doubt lukewarm drink.

“Hey Mom,” Y/N said as she set her keys down. “Anything good?”

She looked up, her expression morphing from startled to happy. “Other than the college brochures? Nothing, except...hm, what’s this?”

Her well manicured hand pulled at a crimson envelope, with sloping writing that seemed to shimmer in the light.

To the Y/L/N Family, it read. The loopiness of the writing looked like it wiggled at the ends, but that had to be a trick of the light. It was dim in the kitchen during afternoons, after all.

“It looks cool, open it u--”

“No!”

Draco’s voice had never sounded so loud as it did then as he lunged across the kitchen, snatching it out of her mother’s hand and clutching it to his chest. “Er, it’s for me. I recognize the handwriting.”

“Cool, see you later,” said Y/N. She was up the stairs and slamming her door before either of her housemates could say another word. After the horrible embarrassment that was technically Draco’s rejection, she needed to be alone.

Even burying her face into her pillow and squeezing her eyes shut didn’t keep the scenes from their car ride at bay. She had been so stupid, so stupid. Why did she even think he wanted that? He was her brother, after all. Oh god, does he think we’re all from Alabama or something?

She wallowed for a few more mournful minutes before deciding that she had to pick herself up and handle it like an adult. After all, she was going to be 18 in just a few months. There was no excuse for her to act like a child anymore. And, plus, it wasn’t like she couldn’t just play this off as a pity invite. Yes,that’s what she’d frame this as if he ever asked her about it again. She felt bad for him was all it was.

Once satisfied with her internal dialogue, she rolled out of bed and made for the foyer where her bag was still on the table. She’d first walk on Legos barefoot before she had to let a stupid boy--especially one that didn’t know how to turn on their shower and had to ask for her help every time--come between her and her 4.0. Never.

Her thoughts were cut short, however, when she heard a new sound from his side of the hallway. She froze, listening closely.

Draco was crying.

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy #draco #draco x you #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc

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allie1804-fan · 3 years

Text

Kerensa

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

Chapter 9

The Griefcast Record

Keanu got out of the taxi at Whistledown Studios and headed in. Cariad and the recoding team greeted him and they got set up with teas, biscuits and a box of tissues on the table

“God, it’s just like a therapist’s room!” he joked

“Best to be prepared! They might be for me anyhow” she laughed.

Before we start though, can I just spend a moment being a fangirl and just say how amazing it is for me to meet you. There are so many films of yours I love – and my kids adore Duke Caboom!”

“ahh yes, Canada’s Greatest Stuntman” he boomed - “that was a fun role”

“and so perfectly cast right?”

“Yeah yeah I guess. I’m glad they picked me from the roster of Canadians they had lined up!”

“Ok, so thanks for letting me just gush for a moment! Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be!”

“First tell me the story of how we managed to get you as a guest.”

“Ok so right, so errm my friend Kerry is the link. I was filming in Cornwall this past year and uh, after we wrapped I was so charmed by the place that I decided to stay and rent a place for a couple of months down there. Kerry was my landlady and one day I came across her walking along the beach, tears streaming down her face and she was listening to your show which she highly recommended to me. I admit it took a bit of persuading to listen, given the crying thing!, but she told me it was more reassuring and uplifting than upsetting. Anyway, so sorry, this is turning into a shaggy dog tale!, so I did give it a go, really loved it

“Oh thank you”

“So then one day we were discussing an episode about baby loss, something we had in common and had talked about before and she said I should do the show. Now THAT took a lot more thought and persuasion, but she said it would do me good and there would be the angle of the man’s perspective and being someone with a public profile going through loss and you know yada, yada yada so here I am, finally!

“That’s amazing and thank you so much to Kerry for listening to the show and for your persuasive talents in getting this lovely man here today. So Keanu, as you know we always start with this question. Who are we remembering today?”

“Today we’re remembering my daughter Ava who was stillborn 23 years ago this year.”

“Ok so would you mind telling me a little bit about what happened.”

“So, ahh, it was in the spring of 1999. The Matrix had just come out and my life was pretty full on. My girlfriend Jennifer became pregnant around that time. It was unplanned and I’ll be honest, I wasn’t super happy about it at first, but she wanted to keep the baby and I said I’d support her, you know, and as time went on I was more excited than worried about becoming a dad.”

“And how was the pregnancy? How far along was Jennifer when Ava died?”

“Everything seemed fine, she, Ava was growing and developing normally. Jen was healthy. Then I was away filming, a god awful project as well! And, Um, ahh, give me a minute” Keanu cleared his throat and took a drink of water.

“I swore I wouldn’t do this” he said gesturing at himself tearing up, his voice cracking slightly “but sometimes, the memories can be, uhhh, very powerful, very vivid”

“Yes you can be taken right back like it just happened can’t you, however long ago - you know I’m 20 plus years out now and still very occasionally I can be catapulted back there. So, everything looked good but you were away, filming - and I’m sure it can’t have been an awful film”

Keanu snorted

“I assure you it was!, yes anyway, Jen went for a last check up at a little over 8 months and uh, there was no heartbeat. Ava had died and so I flew home and she had to, you know, give birth in a maternity unit, hearing all the other babies being born - I mean they have to do it there because you still might need, you know, that expertise and they tried to keep us private but those places they get busy and she had to go through all that with those sounds sometimes breaking through”

“Yes I hear that that is a common experience here in the UK too and one that SANDS, the still birth charity is trying to address. It’s interesting your choice of words: “she went through that”, presumably you were there so didn’t you go through it too?”

“Yeah, yeah - I guess, I just meant that it was worse, more traumatic mentally for her and obviously physically too”

“Sure sure, but awful for both of you nonetheless”

“Indeed, it was” Keanu paused a moment as though something important had just occurred to him “and she was beautiful too you know”

“awwwww” Cariad moaned sympathetically

“she was beautiful, perfect and warm, just silent, still”

Keanu looked up at Cariad, his eyes filled with tears once more and they both just sat for a moment, taking in the pain of his loss. Eventually, Cariad started the conversation again.

“And did you both hold her? Did the hospital staff help you, you know, to say goodbye to her?”

Yeah yeah, we did hold her. They left us be for a good amount of time, they took prints of her hands and feet and a photograph. You know they were supportive in that way, especially as we knew already, you know, that she had died, they were prepared. I don’t think we were, I mean I don’t think you can prepare for that, right? Your brain won’t let you, not really.”

“Yeah yeah, we talk about that a lot on the show, there are people who say it’s better when someone dies of an illness so you know it’s coming whereas with a sudden death you suffer more shock but I still think there’s a degree of shock you experience even when you have some warning.

“Yeah yeah and it’s so stupid, we’re all just so dumb because death is coming man, to us all but we just don’t want to think about it!” He chuckled

“So are you someone who thinks about death a lot?”

“Yeah yeah it’s always there in the back of my mind, spurring me on to do things, make that film, write that script, build that bike!”

“And do you think that’s because of losing Ava?”

“I don’t know, no not really, well maybe a little but that’s come more with getting older I think - I didn’t really have that reaction at the time”

“So what was your reaction, how did you grieve for Ava?”

Another chuckle came from Keanu.

“A more appropriate question might be how didn’t I grieve for her, at the time I mean!”

“Oh?”

“Hee hee you’re like a therapist, leaving the gaps for me to fill!”

“Some of my critics say I interrupt too much and start talking about me so…..”

“We’ll that’s not very nice is it? And also not true!”

“Thanks - Comes with the territory I guess, so please, go on, fill the gap”

“What was the question again?”

“It was about how you did or didn’t grieve for Ava after her birth?”

“Mmmm well we buried her, in the new year, she was born on Christmas Eve, which is uhhh, another tricky thing about it”

“Oh that’s awful, death on high days and holidays just adds another layer right?”

“Yeah yeah. They do - so um after that I went to Georgia to shoot a movie!”

“So you threw yourself into work then?”

“Yup, my trusty friend in times of crisis. In fact I did, let me see, 1, 2, 3, yes 3 movies in the next year and then started training for the Matrix 2 and 3 so I guess the answer is I put my feelings in a tightly locked metaphorical box and didn’t open it for quite some time!”

“And was there intrusion from the press , I guess this is pre the days of the internet being so developed and social media but how was that side of it?”

“Yeah there was some, you know photographers with long lenses at the cemetery”

“God! I can’t imagine”

“Yeah pretty low, right but in a way because of the taboo of stillbirth, people, you know interviewers and stuff, didn’t ask me about it. I mean I would sometimes say “no personal questions” but at other times that hasn’t stopped people.”

“Oh like what?”

“I’m thinking of when River, River Phoenix died, even if I said I wouldn’t answer anything personal they would still ask how I felt, did I miss him. I mean, fuck! Oh sorry I can swear right?”

“Swear away, sure, and god, fuck yeah, that deserved it. I mean obviously that’s a bit of a contradiction coming from me given we’re here and I’m making you talk about private things but”

“But I agreed, that’s the deal here, it’s not the deal to segue from “how was it jumping onto a moving bus to “how do you feel about your best friend dying!”

“Absolutely. So you said you dealt with it, but much later? What about Jennifer, how did she cope?”

“Umm, I don’t know - I mean what’s normal in that situation? She cried, she wailed like a wounded animal. Her mum moved in. I was away and not there to support her like I should have been. We weren’t really a couple either by then. We were going to co-parent but not as a romantic couple you know so it was complicated. To be honest I think a little bit of her died right then - and then she died herself the following April so you know, what you see before you is the last man standing of that family unit that might have been.”

“Woo that’s tough. You’ve really been through the mill as it were.”

“Yeah, yeah but you know I AM still standing. I’m lucky.”

“And how did Jennifer die?”

“Car wreck”

“I’m so sorry”

“Thanks, me too”

“So how is that, being the only one left? Some people talk about losing key people as losing their witness.”

“Yes! That’s it, exactly. Now it’s just me here to remember Ava, to remember her coming in and out of this world”

Yeah yeah that’s hard. So you said you dealt with it later? How did that come about?”

“Midlife crisis I guess - when I turned 40, I had a bit of a meltdown, you know, wondering about my goals, what I had or hadn’t achieved. I basically “ran away” alone to Paris on my 40th birthday, to escape any awful surprise party! And you know, I quietly fell apart in a vat of wine! When I went home my friend Janey was just like “Keanu, it’s time, time for therapy!”

“Ahhh it’s great isn’t it, big fans of that on the show!”

“Yeah I guess, I mean, ahhh I wasn’t that comfortable taking the lid off but yeah it did me a favour and helped sort my shit out. And a lot of the guilt and pain of losing Ava was gone through belatedly during that process”

“And why did you feel guilty?”

“Mmmm well I think I started to think I was a curse - my sister had been sick with leukemia, Ava had died, Jen had died, River, others as well and I felt guilty for that stupid film I was working on when it happened! So yeah, there were lots of rocks to lift up, inspect what lay beneath and deal with my emotions.”

“Well you seem like you have your shit sorted now”

“I’m a work in progress!”

“So now you’re, 23 years on, how do you remember Ava and Jen now.”

“Well it’s hard to forget the day for Ava what with it being Christmas Eve. I sometimes visit their graves - after dark if I can to avoid being hounded”

“What has the world come to when a person can’t be left in peace to visit a loved one’s resting place”

“Yeah it’s fucked up right?”

“Precisely.”

“And what else? , well I do have one little thing that my friend Alex who’s an artist, made for me. It was because of something she said she did to remember her lost loved ones. She would get a Christmas ornament that in some way represented the person and hang it on her tree at Christmas. So she made this beautiful little stained glass bird to hang up on my tree or in the house if I don’t have a tree which sometimes happens. So, uh, Ava’s name in Latin would mean bird or bird like so that’s why she did that, yes so I always think of her then and you know I would think about where she would be at a given point like when my friends kids have started school again after summer break I would think “oh Ava would be starting you know kindergarten or elementary school etc.”

“And do your family share in that?”

“Yeah, yeah - especially my mom. She has no grandchildren so yeah she remembers and we’ll have a moment sometimes yeah but it can be lonely, not having the other parent there who shares the same loss.”

“Yes I’m sure it is. Grief can be very lonely sometimes. Well, Keanu I really can’t thank you enough for coming on my little podcast and sharing your experience of baby loss and loss in the public spotlight with us today. Thank you so much for telling us about your beautiful baby girl Ava and her mum Jen.”

“Thanks for having me - I know this might sound weird, but it’s been a pleasure talking with you and remembering them today so, thank you and thanks to Kerry who suggested it. She said it would be good for my soul and she, as always, was right!”

@fortheloveoffanfic @omg-imagine @iworshipkeanureeves @toomanystoriessolittletime @ladyreapermc @paperplanesandwallflowers @patric9

#keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu #keanu reeves #keanu reeves ofc

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libralita · 3 years

Text

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

Suzanne Collins

Summary: Ambition will fuel him. Competition will drive him. But power has its price. It is the morning of the reaping that will kick off the tenth annual Hunger Games. In the Capitol, eighteen-year-old Coriolanus Snow is preparing for his one shot at glory as a mentor in the Games. The once-mighty house of Snow has fallen on hard times, its fate hanging on the slender chance that Coriolanus will be able to outcharm, outwit, and outmaneuver his fellow students to mentor the winning tribute. The odds are against him. He’s been given the humiliating assignment of mentoring the female tribute from District 12, the lowest of the low. Their fates are now completely intertwined—every choice Coriolanus makes could lead to favor or failure, triumph or ruin. Inside the arena, it will be a fight to the death. Outside the arena, Coriolanus starts to feel for his doomed tribute . . . and must weigh his need to follow the rules against his desire to survive no matter what it takes.

Rating: ★★★★★

Review:

So, this is a bit of a “disclaimer” or more of an interesting fact: I’ve technically never read The Hunger Games Trilogy. I had to read the first book for my English class, and it was a time where I hated being told what to read so I used SparkNotes. We also watched the first film in that class but that doesn’t really matter because A) that was like 8 or 9 years ago and B) it was for my class so you can bet I wasn’t playing attention. So, for all intents and purposes, I have not read the Hunger Games. Now you may be asking why I decided read this…seemingly controversial book rather than the much beloved original trilogy. Cuz my friend said I should, the audiobook sample intrigued me, and when are you going to see a review of this book from someone who hasn’t read the original trilogy?

Before I go into spoilers with this book, I just want to say as someone who has at best a surface level understanding of the Hunger Games trilogy, I think people are being a little bit harsh about this book. This book made me completely understand why Coriolanus Snow went down the path that he did while also not glamourizing it or making excuses for it. I genuinely felt bad for this young man who has delt with so many hardship that no one would should suffer through. However, he still does horrible things and the book recognizes that he does horrible things. It is a fascinating character study with a bit of background on how the Hunger Games came to be. Perhaps my opinion will change once I read The Hunger Games trilogy (which I intend to do) however at this point I think this was an amazing book and you should give it a fair shake. Now, onto spoilers.

The only flaw I found with this book was it was a bit too on the nose with a couple of things. First some of the names. Gaul. Satyria. Highbottom. I know that Collins started off as a middle grade writer and these feel like very middle grade character names. They just describe the characters a little too perfectly. In YA, it’s more popular to make characters where their names’ meanings give an insight into their character. Not a huge problem but a bit silly.

Second, I’m a little conflicted on the political talk. On the one hand, holy shit a YA book that talks about political theory? In an intelligent way? That’s not just screaming about real world politics? Oh my! On the other hand, it’s a little too on the nose. Gaul having Coryo write about the Social Contract and then this conversation:

“‘I do. Unless there’s law, someone enforcing it, I think we might as well be animals,’ he said with more assurance. ‘Like it or not, the Capitol is the only thing keeping anyone safe.’ ‘Hm. So they keep me safe. And what do I give up for that?’ she asked.”—Page 434

Hobbes would swoon over Coryo. It wasn’t bad just on the nose. And to a degree, I get it, I’m working on getting my masters in political science and I’ve read Hobbes and Rousseau whereas most the intended audience probably hasn’t. So, I call this a nitpick for me

Other than this book being a little too on the nose, I found very little fault in this. Maybe the Post-Games story line was a little less interesting but it still wasn’t bad by any means. This book is a character study of Coriolanus Snow, so I’d like to talk about him and his dissent. While reading this, my friend asked me if I hadn’t known that Coryo would one day become President Snow, if I could see it coming. And, while it’s hard to tell exactly, I think Collins manages to balance both Coryo being sympathetic and showing how he could become the person that he is in the trilogy. There are three…phases or Coryo’s life that really illustrate how he becomes President Snow. First is his life during the War. Second, is his life During the 10th Hunger Games. Then his life Post-Games. Collins does a wonderful job of portraying what it was like for Coryo during the war. The horrors he had witness of enjoying the life of luxury at an early age and then his world crashing around him. Of his family dying. Of the struggles to survive. Of him witnessing his friends’ parents restore to something horrible like cannibalism. It’s brought up a lot because it’s something that scarred him.

Now his During-Games life/the first half of this book. Coryo and the people around him are clearly dealing with the PTSD of growing up in a war zone. He’s essentially starving through most of this section during the book and on the verge of losing of what little he’s held onto since the War ended. I feel really bad for him. There was a part of me during this section where I hoped along side him that Lucy Gray would win the Hunger Games, he could go to University and continue his relationship with her. Maybe they could have changed Panem for the better. And while in this section he was no pure angel, you could see Gaul and Highbottom pushing him to become a worse person. You could also see the red flags that become worse in the Post-Games section.

There are two major red flags I picked up on during this read through. First, is his relationship with Lucy Gray. He’s very possessive of her and he gets very jealous when she sings about another guy during The Hunger Games. This made the relationship slightly uncomfortable for me…though let’s be honest if Sejanus was pining after Lucy Gray he would be acting no different from any other YA love interest (shots fired.) He actually reminded me a lot of Jace from The Mortal Instruments. The second red flag is his treatment of Sejanus. In a meta sense Sejanus is your typical hero and the fact that Coryo is using him (and really anyone besides maybe his family?) is a giant red flag to me as a reader. He doesn’t like Sejanus or Mrs. Plinth. He just wants to use them. Which is really sad but shows that is eventually dissent into Post-Hunger Games Coryo is foreshadowed.

Now, let’s talk about Post-Games. I took a break once the Games ended because I was a little unmotivated to keep reading. I didn’t know if I would like Coryo leaving the Capital. I liked seeing the political maneuvering of the Games and his dynamics with his classmates. However, watching his dissent was great. His relationship with Lucy Gray went from slightly concerning to full blown toxic. His possessiveness of her really amped up. Coryo also isn’t really happy to see Sejanus because it’s a friendly face, it’s because there’s someone to recognize his status and for someone he can use. Again, another moment of possibility of where Coryo could have let Sejanus and maybe Lucy Gray escape and he could have gone off to become an officer. Work his way up and become the President. However, he didn’t take that path.

It was so heartbreaking to see Sejanus die, there was still a glimmer of Coryo’s humanity where he genuinely felt guilty but you could see his self-preserving nature showing its ugly head. And then his journey is cemented when he can’t handle being out with Lucy Gray so he may or may not have killed her, then he goes back where his family pictures are ruined and his mother’s powder is mush. The only thing left his is father’s compass.

Speaking of his father, one final character I’ll mention is Dean Highbottom. I wish we got a little bit more of him because his view of Coryo is interesting. It seemed like Collins gave a very subtle story about how Highbottom was worried that Coryo would turn out like his father. But Highbottom ended up created the monster he wanted to prevent. If he had shown Coryo compassion and understanding, he might have turned out differently. This ended up getting Highbottom killed which was a great way to end the book. Sad but great.

Overall, I think this is a great story. I loved seeing all the different roads Coryo could have taken and how things could have turned out differently. I am planning on buying the Hunger Games trilogy so it’ll be interesting to see how this changes things for me.

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #suzanne collins #reviewsdaytuesday #ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games

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datleggy · 4 years

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I enjoy sending you prompts. I hope it’s ok that I’ve spammed you today ahaaaa. What about a firefam adventure to LA Pride? 🥺 would they be there to rep the LAFD in the parade? Or for fun? Sometimes when I wanna make myself go 🥺 I think about Athena & Bobby giving out mom and dad hugs 😭*cries in pansexual*

late drabble reply :) thanku for the prompt <33

this turned into a (shockingly cathartic---for me anyway) accidental coming out drabble and i have zero regrets (happy ending of course)

tw: homophobia, tw: abuse, tw: shitty buckley parents

-------

Buck isn’t on shift that weekend, which is why, he tells himself later, he never bothered to check the work schedule. Or else he’d have known that the 118 would be the ones on duty to put out any “fires” that might arise at LA’s Pride Parade this year.

He knows Hen isn’t going this year because Karen’s out of town with Denny visiting her mom, and they normally go together, so Buck shakes off his anxieties over seeing someone that might recognize him and finally accepts Michael’s invite.

It’s a nice sunny day, so Buck wears a pair of pink light joggers, his white converse, and a white, short sleeved tee with a rainbow on the front. Michael laughs when he asks “Is this too much?”

“Buck, trust me, if anything, you’re overdressed.” Michael sees the uncertain look on his friends face and frowns sympathetically. He knows the feeling. “Hey, look at me,” he puts a steady hand on Buck’s shoulder. “I know it’s scary at first, but I’m here, you’ve got me, alright?”

Michael’s presence alone is reassurance enough, and Buck lets the older man lead him into the crowd and introduce him to some friends of his.

It’s incredible. Everyone is in fun and colorful outfits, there are streamers and glitter and body paint, people holding signs, holding hands, dancing, laughing, smiling---Buck doesn’t know exactly what to call this feeling he’s experiencing, but he knows he likes it. A lot.

He’s having an amazing time, his face now covered in face paint, a pink feather boa around his neck, and so much glitter on his shoes he’s not sure he’ll ever get all of it out, when he hears a very familiar voice call his name. He freezes.

“Buck?” Bobby calls a second time, coming closer.

Buck turns around, his heart dropping to his stomach. “Oh uh, hey, um, w-what’re you doing here?” he stutters, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants when he notices Hen, Chim and Eddie walking over, too. Shit.

“We’re on tent duty over there.” He points to the Med tents nearby.

Michael comes back from getting them waters and immediately swoops in for the rescue. “Bobby, that you? Your team working the tent today, huh?”

Bobby greets Michael with a warm smile. “Yeah, is this your first Pride?” he asks, curious. He knows Michael only recently came out in the last couple of years.

Michael shakes his head. “Second, actually. But it’s my first one since my breakup with Glenn,” he shrugs, “So I invited Buck as an ally to tag along.”

Buck nods, holding himself perfectly still beside Michael, grateful as all hell for the support. An ally. Duh. How did he not think to say that?

Bobby looks a little sad but fixes his expression quickly, faking a smile. “That’s nice. We were just taking a little break, but we should start heading back to the tents.” he nods at the two. “Have fun.”

Michael nods, waving goodbye as the team start to walk off.

Hen stays behind a moment and looks at Buck, who still looks like a deer caught in headlights. She doesn’t say anything, she knows words probably won’t suffice in this case. Instead Hen steps forward and wraps her arms around Buck, tight. When she pulls away Buck’s eyes are bright with tears he refuses to let the light of day see and she feels a tug on her heart strings. “See you later, Buckaroo.” she runs back to the tents afterward, not entirely prepared for all the questions.

“Why wouldn’t he tell us?” Chimney wonders, pacing the tent.

Hen rolls her eyes. “Well it’s not any of our business.”

Eddie folds his arms over his chest. “I’m his best friend.” he’s pouting, and he knows it, but he really didn’t think they kept any secrets between them.

Bobby purses his lips. “Michael said he invited him as an ally---we shouldn’t jump to any conclusions.”

Hen nods in agreement. “Exactly.”

“Do you think Maddie knows? I mean, if he is.” Chim mulls it over. “Oh shit, did I ever say anything offensive that might’ve---”

Hen raises an eyebrow at him, “If you ever did you already know I’d have kicked your ass two times over.”

It’s in that moment that Buck chooses to step into the tent, somehow managing to make himself look small, the way he’s standing. He’s washed the face paint off, shaken away the glitter, and the fuzzy boa is nowhere to be seen.

“Buck,” Bobby stands up, concerned, “You alright?” He looks pale.

Buck bites his bottom lip. “I’m not here because I’m an ally, I’m here because I’m bi or pan, or,” he shrugs, “I don’t really know, but I’m not straight. And um, look, the only reason I didn’t say anything is because I grew up in kind of a small town and when I told my parents they didn’t take it well, they’re really religious and they didn’t want the neighbors or anybody at church to talk.” he doesn’t tell them about the way they treated him after he came out, and he certainly doesn’t talk about what his dad did to him when he caught Buck out in the barn making out with Marc Jacobs from the hockey team, at age fifteen.

“I knew you guys wouldn’t care, but I just---” Buck looks down. “I didn’t want to risk it. I’m sorry.”

Bobby looks sad again, and he is, for a lot of reasons. “Son, don’t be sorry. I’m so so proud of the person you are Buck, and I hope you are too.” he moves forward and opens his arms. “C’mere.”

Buck hesitates only half a second before he practically throws himself into the Captain’s waiting embrace, knocking some of the breath out of Bobby, but Bobby doesn’t care. He holds Buck as if he were his own, and when Buck buries his face into Bobby’s neck and sniffles, his shoulders shaking slightly, the rest of the crew join in.

They surround Buck on all sides, with love and affection, understanding and acceptance. This is his family and now they know, and they still love him, and that is something so new and foreign to Buck that he can’t help but cry.

“We’ve got you.” Eddie tells him.

#tw homophobia #tw abuse #tw shitty buckley parents #pre buddie #911 fox #drabble #buck comes out #by accident #and then not so much by accident #angst #happy ending #fire!fam

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blissfulalchemist · 3 years

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“i can’t promise you anything.” + dealer's choice xx

Hello I have some Liz for you!

Being in a landlocked state is inconvenient when all you want to do is run away to a place that gives an illusion of peace. Instead of salt I get pine, instead of crashing I hear lapping, at least I’m not alone. Val sits next to me on the roof of her car, leaning back letting the sun warm her darker skin, while I have my knees clutched to my chest. The radio plays softly in the background both attempting to enjoy the view from where we’re parked in Boulder, and I can’t help but notice that Val’s been silent this whole time.

“Thank you for letting me stay with you,” I say quietly, resting my chin on my knees, “I hopefully won’t be staying long.”

Val looks down at me, eyebrow cocked, “Why is that? You planning on getting a place of your own?” I nod, as she laughs, “No need to do that. My parents are cool with you staying as long as you need.”

“They also haven’t been around much either,” I point out and she waves off my comment, “Besides then you don’t have to live with the literal devil spawn.”

“Liz,” she sits up facing me, frowning, “what happened? I know you and your mom fought but there’s more to it than that isn’t there?” I look away from her eyes, shrugging, “I’m your friend, Liz, I just want to help you.”

I bite my tongue because she is the only person that would listen to me, the only one that could maybe understand or sympathize with me. She’s also the only person I have left and I don’t want to lose her. I can’t risk going through all of this alone, go through life alone. How can one tell your best friend that you just found out you came from a forced relationship, your mother murdered people in cold blood, and your father was a prominent figure head in a cult that harmed and killed many in a small county in Montana? I’m still reeling from everything I learned, and the possibility of what’s to come now that I know.

I think she’s said my name again as I feel her hand lightly touch my shoulder. “I-. I don’t know what to say Val. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Why would you ever lose me?” I catch the worry in her eyes, scooting closer to me pushing my loose hair behind my ear, “Liz there is nothing you can say that would have you lose me. Just tell me please.”

“It wasn’t just a fight with my mom, Val, she told me about my father,” I swallow biting my lip to stop myself from crying.

“The lawyer whose car you nearly trashed?” There’s no laughter or smile with her words this time, recounting the memory.

I nod, taking a deep breath, “She told me everything about him….and what she did.” Val looks at me with her sympathetic brown eyes, turning a little golden in the current sunlight, my arms release my knees, “She was kidnapped, Val, by a goddamn fucking cult. My father was brother to the leader and a leader himself in it. God I wish that our original assumptions were right and that she just got caught up and him being the richest had to do the payouts. That maybe, just maybe, my mom joined and never wanted anything to do with them, which is why there were sealed records. But no! No! She was kidnapped, forced to marry, had all this bad stuff happen to her only for her to still choose him. She chose to stay with him, a man that was killing people for his faith, for a delusional brother. And here I thought that maybe it was just because she found out she was pregnant with me and that’s why she stayed but again I’m naive, because it turns out she joined him in killing innocent people. Became judge, jury, and executioner.” I huff, heart racing and hands starting to shake, my blood starting to boil as the conversation with her replays in my mind. I was lied too….for years she lied to me.

“You came from a monster and you’ll end up like one soon enough.” Those words repeated to me every time I had to stay with my grandmother, any time I was in trouble she’d blame it on my genetics, I should call and ask if she meant only my father. “How can I live with myself knowing about this now, Val?” I wipe away the few tears that have fallen, looking away from my friend, “It’s no wonder that I never had any friends, or family, or, well, anyone really, it’s because I am more of the monster they would ever be.”

“Liz,” she sighs and wraps her arms around me, the sobs starting before I can stop them. I hold onto her, feeling her fingers run through my hair, I’m staining her shirt as years of insecurity come to the surface. Every single piece of my life makes more sense now: the moving, the bullying, stares and whispers, mom’s hospital stays, all of it just stark reminders that I was blind to everything. So easy to manipulate, little Liz, soft and kind just like her mother, with a temper rivaling her father it seems. An actress, you’ll never know what she’s really thinking so better to not trust her before you’re burned. I feel like nothing more than a walking contradiction. Broken and strewn across the floor like my mirror, yet so perfectly put together you’d never be able to see the cracks unless you looked close enough.

Everything in my body slows, listening to the soft words of comfort Val whispers into my hair. I’ve only just realized how silent she’s been about this whole thing, her face didn’t show much surprise. In fact she hasn’t shown much surprise through this whole ordeal. I didn’t even recall telling her that my father was John Duncan, the lawyer whose office we stumbled into three weeks ago, yet she knew and made mention of it. I pull away from her slowly, eyes narrowing, “Val,” she hums, her eyes looking me over, “I didn’t tell you that my father was the lawyer.”

She waves a hand, “Yeah you did. It was a while ago though.”

I shake my head, “No, because I only recently have everything put together,” I watch as she shrugs off the information, “Val….Did you know?”

“Know what?”

My shoulders slump, “You know what,” she’s failing at hiding the worry in her features, “Did you know that my father was the leader of a killer cult?”

Val stays silent, eyes looking away from me slowly. I cross my arms as she lets out a breath, nodding slowly, “I did. I knew.”

“What,” I clutch my chest, the sharp pain brief, “You-You knew.” She nods, looking back to me, “You knew and you never told me?” My body tenses to run all the while my hands feel ready to fight.

“It wasn’t my secret to tell, Liz,” her voice is calm and steady, “If your mom didn’t tell you then, well, she sure as hell wouldn’t have liked me telling you.”

“How long?” The ringing in my ears gets louder as I breathe deeply, I need to think and listen to what she has to say, “How long have you known Val?”

She bites her lip, looking down to her shoes, “Since we were kids.”

“What,” my voice cracks, the water welling up in my eyes again.

Val nods, “I brought you over a few times and then one day my parents sat me and my brother down and said we weren’t allowed to be friends with you.” She kept this from me, “I asked why and they just told me that it was because you had a really bad father. That it was to protect us,” Val rolls her eyes, scoffing, “Then as we got a little older they gave me more details, it was all assumptions on their end. I never thought that they would be right or that he lived in the state, Liz, but I knew his face and his eyes matched yours.”

“You knew this whole time?” I can’t seem to let that part go, the phrase repeating over and over again. She knew and she never told me, her best friend. The one person I thought I could trust and she lied to me too.

“I didn’t know the exact details, but yeah, I knew since we first met.” She grabs my hand, “I never made mention of it because I didn’t ever want to upset you,” Val gives a small shrug, pushing her own hair back, “it also didn’t mean anything to me.” I blink, eyebrows knitting together, “What I mean by that is, I didn’t care who your father was and what he did.” Her thumbs rub small and slow circles on my hand, as she gives a small smile, “So much so I told my parents that they couldn’t stop me from being your friend and they were liars because if you were religious you wouldn’t be so nice.” A quick laugh escapes me unintentional as the image of her telling her parents to fuck off seems so unreal to me, “I gave a whole list of reasons and I just hung out with you still because I was braver back then and you already had my heart, I couldn’t leave that behind.”

“I could turn out worse than them though Val. I was bred to bring about some new generation of Eden’s Gate or something like that,” I shiver at the thought, Val’s light touch along my cheek calming me, “Doesn’t that worry you?”

She smirks, “Nope.” She faces me head on, crossing her legs underneath her, “It doesn’t because I know you Liz.” She’s holding my hands, “You’re Lizette, the girl that is so smart that she’s graduating early and has all the teachers racing to keep up with you. Liz, the person most willing to stand up for the people below her, unafraid to knock those above down a few pegs, a woman of direct action. Liz, someone that was willing to honey trap a teacher in order to get the evidence needed to stop his cycle of abuse to the students he taught. You’re Liz, my best friend, confident, partner in life, someone that I love with my whole heart. Liz the sweetest, kindest, most determined, strongest, big hearted, and stubborn person I know.” She lifts my chin to meet her eyes, “You’re not your parents, you never were. You were and always will be Lizette Rojas, my best friend. Nothing, and I mean, nothing can ever change that.”

I move my chin from her hand breaking our eye contact, “Are you sure that’s really me,” my voice doesn’t sound like my own anymore, it’s too soft and reminds me of the orphans in movies, “It doesn’t sound like who I am anymore.”

“It is though,” she sighed, “You’re still trying to put everything together and that’s understandable, but do you remember what Mrs. Getten said when she sent you that article,” I shake my head, “I do. She said that no matter what it said or what you found out, it didn’t get to determine who you are. And she’s right Liz, Getten is right, you get to determine who you are and trust me when I say that you’ve already determined that.”

“What if people can never look past it in the future? I’ll always be stuck living in the shadow of their heartlessness,” What if I can never move past it?

“Then we work together and move past it, make them look at the real you,” she pulls me in for a hug, “Look I can’t promise you anything in regards to the future of how people will see you, I don’t have that kind of magic, but what I can promise you is that I’ll be with you. I will always see the real you Liz, okay? No matter what. You will always have someone in your corner.”

“Even if I fall off the deep end? What then? I can’t expect you to want anything to do with that.”

“You really think you’re going to be like your mom,” Val pulls back, hands on my shoulders, “You’re not. The difference between you and your mom is that you’ll have someone there to pull you back. Remind you of who you are.” She gives me a smile, “She was alone and you’re not. No matter the childhood you had you’ll never be alone.”

I can’t help but return her smile with a small one, my hand covering hers, “Let me guess you’re going to make sure of that?” Val rolls her eyes playfully and nods, “You promise?”

She holds out her hand, pinky extended, “Pinky promise.”

I hook my own around hers and I embrace her again, “Thank you Val,” I whisper into her ear, “You mean the world to me.”

“Of course,” she squeezes me tighter, “I love you, Liz. I’d do anything for you.” She has tears in her eyes, when we finally pull away from each other, “Come on, we should uh-. We should get going back to my place. Maybe we stop for some ice cream or something.”

“Are you proposing a movie night?” Her cheeks look a little more red than they should be and she gives me a small shove, “If you are we’re going to need more than just ice cream and you know it.”

“Okay fine a trip to the grocery store, but I pick out two of the bargain bin movies,” she hops down, holding her hand out to offer me help.

I slide off shaking my head, “Okay fine, but only because you’re paying.”

“We going to play some games too?” Val asks as she starts her car up again, “Hell you know what Liz, let’s just take the rest of the week off from school.”

I clutch my chest, gasping, settling into the passenger seat, “We aren’t even sick my dear Val.”

“Hey, isn’t it you that says people need to take a mental health day?” It's easier to laugh with her as she proposes what we could do to get out of school for the rest of the week. I don’t bother to argue as I know she’s going to win as she’s the one with the car and she’s right. “Why don’t we go up to my parent’s place in the mountains, just you and me. Get away from all this madness and not worry about people getting in contact with us or school.”

I roll the window down, smiling, “I like that. I like that idea a lot.”

#lizette eden oc #salvations two paths

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calliecat93 · 3 years

Text

Top 15 Star Trek TOS Episodes (Part Two)

(Part One)

Continuing from the last post, here are the remaining seven episodes~! Also picking Number One was SUPER hard. I was stuck between it and two for a long while. But I finally picked, so here we go!

#7. The Trouble With Tribbles

Up to this point, I hadn’t been crazy over some of the goofier episodes of Star Trek. Shore Leave was a mindscrew that left me uncertain about what was even happening by the end, though my opinion has lightened up upon looking back. The Squire of Gothos had a villain that I found far more annoying than entertaining and it remains one of my least favorite episodes. The only more silly one I did like was I, Mudd which remains an utter laugh riot once everyone acts as illogical as possible, including Spock. But then this episode came along, and Dear Lord it is hilarious. Our heroes stop at a space station, but it’s also occupied by Klingons. But wait, it gets better! A sleezy guy convinces Uhura to buy a Tribble, these little puff ball things that are kind of cute... until they begin to reproduce so rapidly that they infest the ship and base. To put it simply, it’s not a good time for Kirk. Honestly Kirk is the best part just because of how much he LOATHES every single thing about this episode. The scene where a whole bunch of Tribbles just topple over him and he just resigns himself to his fate and later his epic death glare at Bones when he orders him to figure out what killed the things. And then there’s what makes him come aorund to them, their shared hatred of Klingons. Seriosuly, Kirk is just So Done in this episode and it is amazing~

But seriously, it’s a very entertianing episode. Far more than I thought it was going to be when I read the description. It’s not an episode taken seriosuly, but not in the ‘they just gave up’ kind of way like in certain S3 episodes. The cast seem to be legit having a fun time with this one. The brawl between Scotty, Chekov, and a few other guys against the Klingons was super fun as was Kirk sulking when Scotty revelas that he got provoked over the Enteprise being insulted and not the captain. Poor Jim XD Cyrano Jones was also just a fun delight with how scummy yet amusing he is. The scene with him and the drinks during the brawl had me laughing so much XD Seriosuly there’s just so many good moments. Spock not being immune to the Tribble’s comforting effect and being embarassed at this revelaiton, Spock and McCoy’s snark, the Klingons utter horror at the tiny little furballs, it’s just an entertaining ride from beginning to end.

Not anything to really note flaws wise to justify the ranking. It doesn’t have that emotional or philosophical umph that I normally seek out in shows like this, so it’s here at seven. But that ain’t a bad thing at all. Not every episode has to have deep meanings or complex stories. Sometimes it can just be something fun and amusing, and the effort was still there to make it entertaining. It’s one of those episodes that I would watch above the others on a bad day just so I can laugh. Probably the most fun episode I have on this list, and that’s nothing to snuff at~!

#6. The Doomsday Machine

Our heroes find a Starship where the only survivor is Commadore Decker, his crew having all been killed when he beamed them to a planet that a planet destroyer... well, destroyed shortly after. The destroyer is still active and now the Enterprise is in danger. As Kirk remains on that ship, Decker is determined to destroyt he doomsday machine once and for all, including taking command of the Enteprrise and risking their lives to do so. Yeah, this is a pretty intense one. Decker, while his sucicdal actions were wrong, is VERY sympathetic. His crew was killed through no fault of his own, the machine that did it is still loose, and the losses have left him utterly broken. He’s very much traumatized but as he is the highest ranking officer and they can’t officially prove that he’s too mentlaly unfit to be relieved (which imo is idiotic cause even someone who isn’t a psycologist can tell he’s mentally unfit, but whatever), they can’t do much to stop him. Spock DOES finally manage to do so, and it leads to Decker’s ultimate choice that leads to his tragic end.

This one really gripped me. There’s this tension throughout. We have an unstable, suicidal man taking control of the Enterprise and willing to get them all killed to stop the doomsday machine. It’s scary to see how broken the man is. Again, he’s wrong to be willing to sacrifice everyone on The Enterprise to destroy the thing even though none of them want to die, but you understand why. I mean imagine if that happened to Kirk, he’d probably snap too if his actions in Obsession is any indication of how he handles major losses like that. Then we have Decker’s final act. Once relieved of command, he steals a shuttle and goes at the machine himself. He knows that he’s going to die and accepts that fact if it means some chance, any chance of destroying the machine once and for all. While he fails to destory it, he DOES give Kirk the opprotunity needed to do so with the ruined ship. A move that almost gets Kirk killed, but still Decker’s act was not in vain. It’s a very interesting character study with themes of guilt, trauma, and desperation. Kind of like in Obsession in a way, only Kirk manages to survive and pull himself together before it was too late. Decker’s only goal was to take down the machine that took his crew’s lives, even if that meant losing his own.

As I said, these are the kinds of episodes I live for. I guess self-sacrifice is also genetic consideirng what happened with his son in The Motion Picture, haha. Flaws... ugh... I guess McCoy disappeairng after the first half sucked? But that’s a me thing that doesn’t affect anything. I just remember watching it wide-eyed despite fully well knowing that everyone I cared about were going to be perfectly fine. It really gripped me! A great episode with great character exploration and themes which for a one off character, is pretty dang impressive!

#5. Journey to Babel

Meet the parents epidsode! Yay! The Enteprise is transporting various ambassadors of various planets to the Babel Conference. This includes the Vulcan Ambassador Sarek and his human wife Amanda, aka Spock’s parents. Yep, it’s time for some good ol’ fashioned family issues! Sarek wasn’t exactly happy with Spock choosing Starfleet and their relationship has been strained ever since. But when Sarek has severe heart problems, the only way to save him is via blood transfusion with Spock the only one compatible. But to make it worse, Kirk gets stabbed and put out of comission, forcing Spock to take command... at the same time that his father needs the surgery. Yeah... it sucks to be Spock in this episode. I know that Sarek is a bit divisive, but I like Spock’s parents. Sarek comes off as good at his job, but not great as a parent. He’s far fromt he worst and we do see that he does seem to still care about his son, he’s just God awful at admitting it and his previous mistakes. Like father, like son I guess. Amanda was a delight, especially when she tells McCoy about the sehlat aka giant teddy bear. Anyone who can make Bones smile that big deserves our thanks. Spock trying to make it less embarassing only made it funnier XD But back on topic, they come off as interesitng characters. They ain’t ideal, but they seem to genuinely be in love, which is nice.

Spock was just great here as we see him in one of the roughest spots he’s been in. He’s naturally not happy about being around the father that cast him aside again, though after his heart issues it’s clear that he IS concerned. Leonard Nimoy once again does such a fantastic job at having Spock express so much but without breaking character. It’s all in the eyes and the strained tone of voice. Then when Spock is more than willing to go through with the tranfusion, Kirk is injured. He has no choice but to take command, knowing that in doing so his father will die. While he COULD give command to Scotty, with the VERY intense circumstances of an assaliant on board and a ship ready to attack wit a number of ambassadors on board, he’s the best bet in handling it. Amanda is of course upset and even smacks him which IS overly harsh, but she’s about to lose her husband and her son, despite clealry hating the fact, has to place his duty above all else. Sarek dying is the least worst outcome to everyone else being killed. It’s the most logical route. Fortunately Kirk is able to pull himself together long enough to take over and the transfusion goes through perfectly despite the fight making it more difficult. Which again, McCoy is the true MVP here for managing to pull that off successfully under those conditions and Thank God that the episode rewarded him by letting him finally get the last word. He earned that one!

It’s such a great episode for me. Family drama, Spock conflict, political tensions, and just some relaly fun bits. Seriosuly, the teddy bear bit will NEVER stop being funny. Hoenstly these last five were all pretty tight and this ende dup here cause the other four had just a little bit mroe to keep me invested for reasons. Spock and Sarek don’t really reach a resolution but we do see that it has the chance to improve, and the movies do show that Sarek DOES truly care about his son and even admits that he had been wrong. It takes a lot for a man, even a Vulcan man, to do that. Although I DID double take when I realized that Sarek is played by the same guy who did the Romulan Captain in Balance of Terror. Guess he was that good XD. But yeah, a really great episode and very much my favorite Spock-centric episode.

#4. The Empath

TRIUMVIRATE FEELS BABY~! Our heroes end up trapped by a duo of aliens and encounter a mute empath woman that McCoy names Gem. They try to figure out how to escape as the aliens known as Vians plan to use them for an experiment as they have others. Shenanigains happen while elad to Kirk getting totured p, and then given the ultimate sadistic choice in having to decide if either Spock or McCoy get tortured to the point of either death (McCoy) or permenant brain damage (Spock). Now the episode has it’s issues, like why the Vians needed to do this to decide that Gem’s people were worth saivng is..l really baffling. But I’m also not a Vian so what do I know anout their mindset? But due to those kinds of plot holes, it landed here at four. It also kind of reads like a hurt/comfort fanfic, which isn’t a surprise when you find out that this was written and submitted by a fan. Which is freakin’ awesome and I can’t complain tbh cause it’s a good hurt/comfort fic. What it fails in some plot tightning it succeeds at in emphasizing the relationship between the main trio and it’s themes of emotion and self-sacrifice. Because OF COURSE that would be relevant for these three numbskulls at some point!

The second half is really what sells it. Kirk of course can’t make a choice like that, so Bones hypos him so that he’ll be spared of it. But that means that Spock is in command and he fully intends to hand himself over to the Vians to spare the two. Just the scene where he looks at Kirk, knowing that it’ll likely be the last time he sees him and Gem touching him to feel his emotions. Her smile sums it sll up. Which sidenote, the actress for Gem was freakin’ fantastic in how she displayed so much emotion and character without saying one word. Excellent acting. Anyways, Spock’s plan seems full-proof... except that he forgot that he’s dealing with McCoy, who promptly hypos him as well and sacrifices himself to the Vians. That was when McCoy became my favorite character, the moment he chose to be tortured to near death to save his two best friends and an innocent woman and even took the time to try and comfort her before being taken away. When we see the ifnal result and are greeted to DeForest Kelley looking at the camera with the most dead expression that he can muster... yeah the image STILL haunts me. Then Bones is dying with the two unable to do anything but try to give him some comfort and Gem is just so distraught and... heah this episode mad eit this high simply because it hit the emotional beats perfectly. That’s not even going into Gem trying to heal him to drive home the themes of the episode, also done VERY well.

This episode really shows how much the three care for one another. They’re all willing to be tortured and die to spare the other two. Ultimately McCoy gets the ‘honor’, but Kirk and Spock were absolutely ready to throw themselves to the fire. The characterization, interactions, and dynamic are just done so well that it’s why I can forgive the plot issues. I’m a sucker for feelings okay?! So yeah it’s not perfect but what it got right it got right. As such, it managed to land here at Number Four with only those plot holes keeping it from Number One. And trust me, I was tempted.

#3. The Tholian Web

Season 3 hadn’t been doing it for me with only one or two episodes really getitng my attention up to that point. This one though? This was the best episode in the seaosn bar none. Our heroes end up in a subspace where they find a starship and it’s crew all dead. Whien they teleport back to The Enterprise, it disappears... and takes Kirk with it. Okay, doesn’t sound liek anythignt hat new right? Kirk goes missing, the crew have to deal without him and find him as quickly as posisble. But this one has a bit of a twist... they cut Kirk out completely. Yeah, from the moment he vanishes in the first act to the very end he is out of the episode. Not only does the crew not know what happened to him, but neither does the audience, this ramps up the fear and emotional weight big time as the longer the crew is int hat space, the influence of it drives them to insanity. Bones wants to get out because of this, while Spock is unwilling to leave Kirk if he is alive. Needles to say, things go off the rails quickly.

With Kirk out of the equation, we keep our focus on Spock and McCoy. Their arguing is probably at the most personal it’s ever been with Kirk seming dead, the crew losing their minds, and it looking more and more uncertain that they can both treat the crew and ge tout alive. While one can say that McCoy may be too harsh here, I think along with the space affecting him in a less intense way, he’s also stressed from all the patients as well as his grief about Jim. Spock is the only one that he can take it out on, especially since his chocie to not leave is why they’re now int he mess that they’re in. Spock is trying to perform his duties despite the hostilities and his own grief that he’s trying to keep a grip on with all the responsibility of the crew and whatever happens due to his choice firmly sititng on his shoulders. What finally starts to get them to resolve this? A tape that Kirk made for them in the event of his death. He gives them his confidence that they can perform their duties withiut him, but that they need to lsiten to and support each other. They CAN go on without him. It’ll hurt but they’re now all that they each have and they need to work together now more than ever. It’s a sobering moment for both with McCoy realizng how ovelry harsh he had been and Spock expressing genuine grief. They do still bicke rone more time, but McCoy catches himself before it goes too far, apologizes, and Spock simply says what Jim would: “Forget it, Bones”. Cue Bones fainting like the Southern Bell that he is, haha!

Now of course Kirk is alive and they manage to save him and get out of the situation fine. But I just loved this because of the focus on Spock and McCoy without Kirk. Why? Because Kirk is the one thing that can unite them. It’s not the only thing, but if anything can make them get over their disagreements quickly, it’s Kirk. So what happens when it looks like he’s gone and never coming back? How will the two deal with it now that that balance is gone? They don’t deal with it well, being at each other’s throats until they see that tape. But it DOES show that if they did lose Kirk, they CAN work together and go on. Like I said, I adore these two’s relationship and while not as slashy as All Our Yesterdays, this is such an excellent one for that relationship as we see that yes, they will bicker but they will also be there for each other when it all comes down to it. It’s such a great episode for that reason and the plot was just well done. Like I said, casitng out Jim and leaving us unsure of what happened to him was an excellent move for this one and I enjoyed the exploration that it allowed.

#2. The Immunity Syndrome

Out heroes are scent to investigate what caused a whole solar system to disappear just as they also receive a message from a Vulcan science vessel. Unfortunately, Spock senses he vessel’s destruction and the Enterprise finds itself against a giant space amoeba that will devour everything unless stopped. That may not sound like much, but it leads into what I think was the most intense situation that the Enterprise has been in. Everything, and I mean everything, is pushed to their limits here. This amoeba can outright destroy galaxies and utterly mindless, so there’s no reasoning with it. But it gets especially tense when, in order to understand exactly what’s going on, Kirk has to send someone in the space shuttle to observe, but in doing so, he’s sending someone to most likely die. And his choices? Either Spock or Bones... yeah.

This is what makes this episode great. Spock and Bones are already on rockier than usual terms due to McCoy treating the Vulcan deaths more like a statistic while Spock sensed all of it outright. That itself is an interesting observation on how we treat these kinds of things, not really understanding how horrific it is unless we’re involved in it outright, otherwise it’s sad and unfortunate but just another number. But then we have the suicide mission. Bones originally volunteers himself, after all he’s a doctor and would have the knowledge to make the necessary observaitons and likely the most fit for it. But Spock is not only also perfectly capable even if not specialized in medical science, but he’s also more fit physically and emotionally to undergo the risk and come out alive. In the end, Kirk picks Spock and McCoy ain’t happy about it. The scene with Spock about ready to go with McCoy still unhappy even when Spock asks him to wish him luck. He does... once the doors have shut and Spock can’t hear him anymore. It’s a very strong scene and it only gets more painful when it looks like Spock is truly going to die and his final words are that McCoy should have wished him luck. Bones’ face says everything.

The episode is just excellent. Great character moments. Great emotional weight. Great stakes that keep going up and up and it truly feels like the darkest hour for the crew. Kirk and Spock outright begin to record their respective final words. Even they’re convinced that this is most likely the end, which is just... dang man. I couldn’t look away during this one. They hit everything perfectly with pretty much everything. If I have any issues, none of them come to mind. It’s just an excellent episode and the best of Season 2. I had a REALLY hard time picking between this and my Number One for the top slot. The top one just had a little bit more emotional impact to get it, but it just barely topped this one. Regardless, it is still an excellent episode and one of the best by far. But what is Number One? Well...

#1. The City on the Edge of Forever

Yeah, yeah, obvious pick I know. I normally don’t go wth popular opinion... but sometimes it’s that way for a reason, and this one I can’t argue about. When McCoy gets badly drugged on accident, he goes into a derranged state and beams onto a planet. The crew is unable to stop him from entering a portal known as the Guardian of Forever that sends him into the distant past where he does something to change histry. In order to figure out what changed and to stop McCoy, Kirk and Spock travel into the 1930’s a few days earlier to cut him off and must now navigate their way though the time period where they end up at a soup kitchen run by a woman named Edith Keller. Which Edith is an excellent character. She’s kind, optimistic, charming, hard-working, ad caring towards those who need it. Kirk ends up falling for her, and... it’s legit really cute. Kirk isn’t being forced to make out with a woman or doing so for information. We see how Kirk is when he genunely likes someone, having been drawn to Edith’s optimism and hopes for a better future. A future that he is from and knows will be reality. He’s really sweet and it’s just cute... which makes what happens at the end all the more tragic.

The 1930’s were fun with Kirk trying to come up with an excuse for Spock’s ears having me dying from laughter. The acting was excellent with DeForest Kelley as drugged!Bones especially being both crazy and scary. I quit doubting that he played villains in Westerns after this episode, haha. But of course Spock soon discovers that the change that McCoy is to make is saving Edith form death, and in doing so she leads a pacifist campaign that delays America’s entry into World War II and... well, things go badly. They are in a time where sadly optimism and peace are simply not options, which is even crueler. In order for time to be restored, they have to let Edith die. Kirk is horrified by this and when the time comes (sidenote, the Triumvirate reunion is utterly adorable), he just grabs Bones, keeps his back turned, and can only listen as Edith screams and is killed via car colission. Whatever grievances I have about William Shatner, he absoluteley nailed Kirk’s utter heartbreak and pain as Kirk just looks utterly boken. His final wordds after they return to the 23rd Century simply being a bitter “Let’s get the Hell out of here” sums it all up perfectly. Bones’ horror at it, especially since he DID have to watch it and him being upset at Kirk is also heartbreaking as he asks him if he knows what he just did. Spock can only somberly inform him that yes, he does.

It’s one of those cases where I wish serialization was more of a thign cause DAMN this is some major emotional baggage for everyone but as per usual. It happens and they go on from there with no lingering development. I guess if I had to complain, that would be it but that’s jut the nature of these shows at the time. Kind of feel like Bones getting as bady overdosed as he did pretty much got forgotten after they enter the 1930’s, but I also know nothing about 23rd Century drugs so... ah well. But the rest of the episode is so good that I can forgive those issues and they clealry did nothing to impact the placing. It had a storgn story, great emotion, great acting, great pacing, and a heartbreaking but fitting ending. The episode has a LOT of history behind it’s making that could be a post all it’s own, but no mater how this episode came to be, it is very much the best of Star Trek TOS. It was fun yet sad and had me gripped form beginning to ed and just htinkign about it now still makes me sad. Thus, it earns it’s place as my favorite episode of Star Trek TOS.

And we are done! There were a lot of really good episodes and some i REALLY did consider. A Piece of the Action, The Enemy Within (that was skipped for... certian reasons), Is There in Truth No Beauty?, This Side of Paradise, and plenty of others that I enjoyed. There were others I.. well, didn’t, but I can’t recall outright hating anything. Regardless I came in apathetic at best, and I left a fan for it’s characters, interesting ideas, and I just had a lot of fun. It’s outdated in many ways, but still relevant in others. Overall, I’m glad to have finally watched it, and I hope that I enjoy TNG just as much. But if not, I’ll always have this~!

(Image Source: TrekCore TOS Gallery)

#star trek tos #callie reviews

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bellamygateoldblog · 4 years

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The 100 7x01: Discussion

My general takeaway from the episode can be summarised like this: Echo is spectacular. (I might’ve said “oh my god look at her!!!!!” and “ugh she is just The Best” too many times to count).

This is long-ish because I really just wanted to consolidate my thoughts in one place. Bitch it’s me i got a lot to say!!!!!

The Good Parts

— The farmhouse setting. While it’s existence is strange and “a sore thumb” and worked to further push Sanctum being the abomination born of clumsily mixing genres and time periods in terms of construction/costuming, making everything appear disconnected and obnoxious, it was still a nice change. It made me feel warmer and more comfortable as a ‘modern’ viewer. It’s a breath of fresh air from the constant dark element: dilapidated post-apoc buildings falling from their foundation, endless woods, and equally cold-feeling labs and skeleton dungeons.

— Echo. This was a damn good episode for Echo and every second reminded me of why she’s my favourite. She’s a badass. I always love to see her falling naturally into leadership of her little ragtag groups who accept it wholeheartedly. From the “testing a theory” moment where she went ‘when Gabriel doesn’t speak >>>’, to right at the end when she killed the solider about to “eliminate” Hope (hesitation is death...oh no he can’t hear us he’s got airpods in oh my god). It was Echo that got them through the whole sequence with the anomaly, Echo who figured shit out, Echo who quickly judged the situations and formed plans to overcome the obstacles. In other words: she did THAT.

Favourite scene: Echo coming face-to-face with the projection of her own insecurities in the form of Roan and Echo 1.0, and physically overcoming them (shooting them down), along with the trauma and pain that they both represent. The perserverence and getting the job done despite the emotional torture felt like a callback to the Psychosis episode of 6x02 when she was clever enough to sedate herself to silence the voices in her head. I also think the dialogue chosen was also foreshadowing that she would become a leader by the finale (commander?) and i love to see it!

— Clarke and Madi’s conversation. Oh Clarke, you just keep reinforcing and validating my perceptions of who you are as a person over and over again lol. In all her self-importance failing to remember that Madi, in fact, had and was raised by her biological parents for half of her life (and the new knowledge that she spent six years telling her little mind tales from the book of her life whilst apparently never taking the time to learn about Madi’s or acknowledge/honour her birth parents in any way) is “yeah that’s about right” to me. Sure you could say she was still reeling from the events of six and her death-almost death-almost death again. But I’ve always had this Thing about the relationship between Clarke and Madi. And i’ve seen some of the lighthearted humourous reception that scene got from fandom, “#where do you think the child CAME from?!” which only served to remind me of my own impression that Clarke views Madi as wholely ‘hers’, as if Madi’s existence was tied to Clarke, but i might elaborate in a seperate post.

This scene was a lovely display of self-awareness I’ve rarely seen on Clarke (never even got it when she electrocuted said child two seasons ago- however that absense of apology and acknowledgement of the sheer wrongness of that action also fits very nicely with my view of her lmao, still though, a weird choice for your ‘heroine’).

— Clarke’s “feels like a different world.” Felt romantically-coded. I think Gaia/Clarke might be the most convinient relationship to transform into romance at this point. However I’m sincerely hoping this road they could go down won’t reduce Gaia to a crutch/accessory for Clarke, and that she doesn’t become merely a love interest. I’ve seen talk already of Gaia being “Clarke’s happiness” etc.. which is already confirming my worst fears. Sigh.

This moment very much felt like found closure and the turning of a page. But i will say it was a very sharp turn from the three seasons of shoehorned-in mentions of Lexa, and last season’s emphasis on Clarke’s very-much intact emotional response to her memory- “it’s why you cry when you think about Lexa”- to her looking at an image of Lexa’s memory of her, reminicing but having no emotional response to it, and brushing it off while sharing a soft look with Gaia (and this is a few days since s6? I don’t know how this timeline is working but Tbh it’s not like these writers ever concerned themselves with ‘realistic time frames’ anyway lol). Yep, Jason’s seasons are individual “movies,” alright.

Other *nodding approvingly* moments

— Raven’s subtle “elevator eyes” on Clarke when she started giving her orders again. I see you, Miss Reyes, and I appreciate you.

— Raven + the foot in her mouth and the cute way she catches herself both times. I just love watching characters fail at existing LOL. She was feeling more human than stereotype or plot device this episode.

— "Mommy and Auntie O” and the implication that Hope is a child inside an aged-up body.

— This quote: “I know what it’s like to lose your family 100 years ago and yesterday at the same time.” It’s so literal but I like it a lot.

— Clarke being ‘leader’ again is, as usual, solely a matter of convinient (and familial/love) circumstances and it felt very true.

The Rest

— The Eligius Situation. So Clarke and her inner circle conquer and live in a nice home, and we’re specifically told Clarke takes the master suite (and the dog), and I was like ‘fair enough’ but then she orders prison labour. She tells them to build her a compound that they won’t actually get to be apart of, and to live in tents while they do so. They aren’t getting anything out of this (before they resist and set their own terms). This is slavery. Also, those aren’t her people to boss around, look down on, and use accordingly for her own gain (in fact they barely know her or why she’s gone from being that one unloyal woman who executed their men and got herself captured like an idiot, then couldn’t make up her mind about which side she wanted to kill- to one in the uppermost position of authority...like...they woke up yesterday) But, then again, that never stopped her.

— Too much and not enough at the same time. The pacing of the episode in general was awful. Too much happening in quick succession, no breathing room, too many factions (no, actually Raven, where is ALIE when you need her? smh). I blink, I miss an entire scene and a character is now beating someone else up. Amazingly, i was still bored 90% of the time.

— The Children of Gabriel calling themselves “The Children of Gabriel.” It was always goofy, even more so when a grown man is saying it.

— Murphy + his self loathing over Abby’s death. Did I miss the part where she was ever good to him? One of their final moments together was of her telling him he deserved to die over Clarke after she spent the entire series treating him like he was inferior and disposable. uhhhhhhhhhh.

— The picnic scene. Jackson’s sudden violent outburst was unearned (it wasn’t even set up???), and also disrespectful. Wrong place, wrong time, bro. He’s grieving? Okay. But when Abby’s daughter is sitting right in front of you, making this about you, ruining a perfectly good toast in her honour with your uncomfortable accusations loses you points you never even had to begin with. And this is a ‘me’ thing but I can’t be bothered to be sympathetic when this is about Abby Griffin.

Also, I have to say it. Eliza’s acting took me out of the scene every time I looked at Clarke. I couldn’t for the life of me work out what those expressions were supposed to be.

— Russell, his manpain, and a fury over the consiquences of his own actions that could rival the grounders (”my brother died in your ring of fire [while he was trying to murder you all]” hmm sounds like a you problem). But the worst part is, I simply couldn’t tell where he stood or what he was feeling. He’s so one-dimensional. He’s an evil man (so much for ”grey morality”).

— Clarke + Jordan. A small point to make but all Clarke has done since Marper made her ‘Godmother’ of their son has blame him for everything bad happening lol. Marper loses a lot of my respect as time goes on for that choice. As much as I dislike Jordan’s presence in the show, still not a great pattern to have noticed.

— Raven seeking approval from Clarke (specifically) for the Prime idea was...weird and very bad. When has Raven ever cared for Clarke’s validation, especially in the last few seasons?

Was also taken aback by how Indra and Miller are both suddenly so protective of Clarke, like i can make sense of the Indra part even though it relies on me making things up that aren’t supported by what’s on screen, but Miller?

— (Bonus moment that was bad for me, but not for the same reason it was for the rest of you: the scene of Hope finding the message in her arm. When she was removing the blood-soaked bandage I freaked out because I thought she was peeling her skin off. You’re welcome for that visual.)

The Mixed/No Feelings

— Clarke’s full-dark-no-stars. How many times have they told me now she’s “the head”? LMAO.

I have no actual formed opinion on it. Only disjointed thoughts. Like i might’ve just gone “good for her” if Clarke wasn’t the person she is, with the history she has.

I appreciate the idea, to have her spend the whole episode declaring she is, in fact, completely fine, to end it having her explode with the repressed pain.

I mean...i realise the cognition behind it, but it’s eye-roll inducing at this point. This- kicking Russell to death (giving him exactly what he wanted and set out to provoke), and burning down a palace she promised to keep intact, once again going against the group to do her own Thing that they all ultimately have the suffer the consiquences of and help clean up- is just a repeat of past patterns, and Monty’s “do better” mantra that she desperately clung to like she owned it last season is nowhere in sight.

(Also, I can’t be the only one who spotted her physically smacking that Sanctum girl as she walked onto the balcony? Not cool. Wasn’t cool when Murphy acted like a dick to one of them either this episode.)

The rushed switch did a number on me, too, like Jackson’s did. Literally five minutes before she was preaching about a peaceful life for Madi that doesn’t take revenge (I think I know what they were going for with that but it just left me feeling confused and frustrated).

Furthermore, I’ve seen talk that this was her “burning down of a symbol of oppression”, something she experienced first hand (not so unlike Blodreina and the bunker she desperately wanted to escape and deliver her people from), but there was no noble, calculated intention there. She burned the palace accidentally in her rage because she was in pain and disorientated. The moral stuff was just an after effect.

The speech was also very ‘Clarke’. Feeling entitled to and making decisions on who lives and dies right after declaring this wasn’t their kill to make. She wasn’t the only person hurt by the Primes (but we’ve also been given no reason to care about any of the other victims- the manipulated, enslaved population have been turned into a joke and a punching bag for the main characters which...isn’t great either). And the castle could’ve been used to shelter some of the “too many people” we had problems with through the episode (or used to harvest resources from). It really comes down to if i think the situation justifies the reaction and if i hold her wholely responsible...and this is the part where i reiterate that i have no intact opinion and don’t actually care to have one either ha.

#the 100 s7 #7x01 discussion #the 100 7x01

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