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atomicradiogirl · 3 months

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Son of a Coma Guy: Unconditional Love is Cutting Your Heart Out

Son of a Coma Guy is leading up to the climax of the Tritter arc of House season 3, only two episodes before Finding Judas, where Wilson betrays House and makes a deal with Tritter, an action that ultimately dissolves their relationship until Season 4. The episode starts with a unique structure, with no patient cold open. Just House having lunch with two patients in comas. Wilson barges in and yells at House for “forcing him to lie to the police” that House didn't steal Wilson’s prescription pad and forge his Vicodin prescriptions. This is all in the first minute of the episode, setting up the intricacies of House and Wilson’s relationship that will soon get pushed in the later events of the season.

Wilson is characterized as a person who is selfless, giving, loves to be needed, and will do anything in his power to help people he cares about, especially House. House does something that should rightfully break this friendship: put Wilson’s career on the line and possibly send himself to prison. Wilson is mad at House for only thinking about himself and putting himself in jeopardy. Wilson isn’t mad at House for using him and his kindness. House always does this. Wilson likes being used. In reality, Wilson is scared for House, not himself. He lied to Tritter to protect House. House didn't force Wilson to lie for him. Wilson did it anyway. The ultimate act of loyalty and care, the ultimate sacrifice. This is all read between the lines, of course, and this important revelation in the opening of the episode sets up the actions and importance of Son of a Coma Guy.

We are then introduced to the titular Son of a Coma Guy, Kyle Wozniak, who has a seizure when House induces one. Kyle discusses his medical history and his family history. He says that his dad never liked his mother’s side of the family, and he was raised by a guardian. He only visits his father, who is in a coma. House wakes up his comatose father, Gabriel Wozniak. The last thing he remembers is the fire that killed his wife, something that is revealed to have been caused by Kyle later in the episode. House and Wilson discuss Gabriel. House argues, “Maybe he just doesn’t like his son. The delusion that fathering a child installs a permanent geyser of unconditional love.” Wilson interjects with, “Maybe your father’s feelings were conditional. Not everyone-” House cuts him off, “Yes, of course, that would play into your romantic vision of-” Wilson says, “In terms you would understand, we have an evolutionary incentive to sacrifice for our offspring. Our tribe, our friends. Keep them safe.” To which House replies, “Except for all the people who don’t. Everything is conditional. You just can’t always anticipate the conditions.” Wilson’s argument here mirrors his actions at the start of the episode, sacrificing himself and keeping House safe from the consequences of his actions, even if he deserves them. House says that maybe Gabriel’s relationship with Kyle is conditional, that love and sacrifice can never be unconditional. Referencing his abusive relationship with his father and his perception of love. That it always has to have a catch. This is really important in understand House and Wilson as characters, and especially in their relationship. Wilson views love as being programmed, an innate thing you’re evolutionarily destined to have. House views love as something you earn, something you get, something that has conditions. Wilson might have a romantic vision of love, but his love life is just as unhealthy as House’s. Constantly putting people’s needs in front of his own, sacrificing himself for House, which is left unnoticed and unappreciated by House. Someone who views this sacrifice as conditional when, in reality, it isn’t. This is the dichotomy of House and Wilson.

House fulfills Gabriel’s last-day request of getting a sandwich and needs Wilson’s car for a road trip to Atlantic City. Wilson of course, lets him have it but decides to come with them. House keeps questioning Gabriel so Gabriel makes a deal with him that for every question House asks, Gabriel asks him one too. Gabriel asks House if he’s ever been in love, House says yes. Says that they met when she shot him in paintball, talking about Stacy. Gabriel asks if House has ever loved anyone else and House deflects saying, “no more questions” but Wilson is of course in the car with them. House doesn’t want to admit that he 1. Either loves Wilson or 2. Is capable of loving Wilson since this would prove his conditional love theory, that he loves Wilson only because he selflessly gives House what he needs.

In the hotel in Atlantic City, Wilson asks House why he used his pad, not Cameron’s Foreman's or Chase’s. Wilson says that it’s because his association with House is voluntary. That he chooses to be close to him. “Any relationship that involves choice you have to see how far you can push before it breaks. And one day our friendship will break and that’ll just prove your theory that relationships are conditional and you don’t need human connection or deserve it or whatever goes on in that rat maze of your brain.” House deflects this, of course. Incapable of being truly honest about his feelings at this stage. House, throughout the show has a deep insecurity about deserving love, deserving to live, and deserving to be happy. Wilson’s unconditional loyalty to him pushes against this. Yes, there are moments when their relationship wavers but it never truly fully breaks. He always comes back to House and in the end, he relies on House. House is all Wilson has, and Wilson is all House has. Son of a Coma Guy is the first proof that House can bend Wilson and his relationship and Wilson will bend with him. Their social contract of push and pull. Bending but never fully breaking.

House questions Gabriel about his family history, eventually determining the illness that is inherited throughout their family. Gabriel asks House why he became a doctor, and he decides to be honest with him. Saying that when his father was stationed in Japan he went to one of the hospitals as a kid and he was inspired by a doctor, a buraku, one of Japan’s untouchables. Someone whose ancestors were slaughterers and gravediggers, he wasn’t accepted by his staff, but they needed him because he was right so nothing else mattered. Gabriel is asked about the fire that killed his wife, and he explains that Kyle when he was 12, knocked over the kindling which started the fire. He didn’t blame him because he was just a child and it was an accident. Gabriel isn’t with him because he blames himself for failing to keep his family safe. He couldn’t stop the fire and save his wife. He doesn’t want to see his son die too. This goes into Wilson’s evolutionary love argument. Gabriel loves his family so much that he can’t bear to lose them, to fail to protect them.

Gabriel decides to perform the ultimate sacrifice, to give Kyle his heart to save him. House decides to go along with it, telling Gabriel how to kill himself so that the heart can be saved, by hanging. Before he aids Gabriel, he asks Wilson to leave the room. Wilson says no, but House says, “You’ve lied to the cops enough for me. Maybe I don’t want to push this until it breaks.” To which Wilson leaves, accepting that House appreciates his sacrifice and is willing to put himself on the line for someone else. Something that House rarely does. Gabriel asks House if he could hear one thing from his father what would it be? To which House says “I’d want him to say You were right. You did the right thing.” What this is truly about we don’t know and never really find out but House’s abusive relationship with his father isn’t truly revealed until One Day One Room a few episodes later, which puts new context to this line. House has to kill a father who loves his son so much, even though he accidentally caused the death of his wife, that he is willing to sacrifice his heart for him. Gabriel unconditionally loves his son, but House’s father’s love was conditional. This is what Wilson argued previously. Gabriel is willing to sacrifice his heart, (do I have to mention Wilson’s Heart) also mirrors Wilson’s sacrifice at the beginning of the episode. Both Gabriel and Wilson prove their unconditional love. Wilson wordlessly sets up House’s alibi for him and they wait together for Gabriel to die. When Gabriel’s heart saves Kyle, Kyle asks House for any message from his father, something to give him closure. House tells him what he wishes his father would have told him. “Right about what? What does that mean?” Kyle asks. “How would I know? He’s your dad,” House tells him and leaves.

“You know what I learned about this case?” House asks Wilson at the end of the episode. “That it proved that people can love unconditionally and you can tell yourself it’s not true, but you’ll just end up in a hotel room in Atlantic City asking someone to cut your heart out?” Wilson says.

Son of a Coma Guy is an episode about unconditional love and sacrifice. Gabriel and Wilson are the givers, those who sacrifice their hearts (literally and not literally) for the people they love. Kyle and House are the takers. Those who don’t think they deserve the love they receive but are forced to take it. Kyle, to live, House for growth. I adore this episode and it is a prime highlight of House and Wilson’s relationship and the peak of House’s writing.

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bestaccountingfirmtoronto · 6 months

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scintillasofbeomgyu · 3 years

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➷ first snow | c.bg

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader (older)

genre/s: fluff, lil crack

word count: 2,5k

you and beomgyu have the biggest crushes on one another, yet are blissfuly oblivious until that mid-December evening.

an: This is my first piece; please be kind hehe. I’m aware it’s bad, but I hope to do better in the future!

Beomgyu’s teeth clenched down on the chopsticks in his mouth with such force, it’s surprising that they didn’t shatter. The samgyeopsal restaurant was as vibrant as any other restaurant of it’s kind in Seoul – teeming with customers who, yelled their orders to the owner as they grabbed seats at the round metal tabletops and downed the soju in their shot-glasses as they roared with laughter amongst their friends. At the moment, there was even a company dinner taking place at two of the tables in the far corner, and a female customer crying with five empty beer bottles on her table close to the window.

The restaurant was as bustling as ever, so much so that you weren’t even able to hear yourself think; but Beomgyu could not tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him.

It was the first time in a while that you and the boys had been able to meet up. They had just had a comeback, weeks of promotion and even award ceremonies to attend; so you hadn’t even been texting much. It was safe to say, that the dinner that night was very much anticipated by all of you – especially Beomgyu, who had insisted on the get-together under the pretence of commemorating the younger members becoming adults.

The time apart had made him realize just how he felt about you. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly it was (heck, it could have been since the very beginning) that he fell for you, but what he was now certain of, is that whenever his heart raced upon your visits to their dorms or their performances, or simply just having you near – it wasn’t from a chronic illness. Thank goodness.

But now he had to sit, watching you and Yeonjun talk to one another the entire night as if you were inseparable. It left a nasty after taste in his mouth, but each time either of you looked at him, he’d flash a smile and either nod, or mumble a ‘yes’ almost as if he were able to pay attention to any of the intricacies of what you were talking about. He was utterly jealous, but there was nothing he could do about it.

To make it worse, you looked absolutely stunning. He noticed everything – the new pastel pink blazer, which complimented your skin; the new elevated sneakers, which made him giggle, he knew how your tiny little self pouted whenever hanging out with them. You had gotten bangs, which he wasn’t a fan of – he saw less of your face now, and you even wore a new fragrance – he noticed everything. After all, he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off from you since you arrived at the restaurant.

But when he imagined that you had done all of those things for Yeonjun, it stung.

Taehyun seemed to notice, the dark brooding energy eminating from his hyung was very hard to miss, and a knowing smile stretched across his face. “Hyung, what’s up? You’ve barely eaten anything.”

It took Taehyun having to actually wave his hand infront of Beomgyu’s face before he actually even realized Taehyun said anything at all, turning to face him with a ‘hmm?’ and a distant smile. Taehyun sighed. “Why don’t you just speak to her?”

Huening, who had been deeply engaged in an eating battle with Soobin, seemed to overhear this discussion and snickered before calling Soobin to listen in as well. “Oh? Beomgyu hyung has a crush on (Y/n) noona?”

“Beomgyu? (Y/n) noona?” Soobin gasped, in genuine surprise. “Did I miss something?”

Beomgyu’s face heated up like Florida in summer. He had never been more grateful for his long, floppy brown locks than right in that second. “How can I speak to her? Yeonjun hyung has been hogging her attention span ever since we got here.” He sighed, crossing his arms and pouting a little when you laughed at something Yeonjun said.

“Hyung,” Taehyun sighed, pursing his lips together. “You’re just being jealous and dramatic right now. We’ve all spoken to Noona this evening, it’s only you who have been giving her the cold shoulder. And obviously Yeonjun hyung and Noona have more to talk about, they’re taking the same courses and have the same friend circle.”

“Yeah, hyung, they’ve always talked plenty. You haven’t noticed?”

Maybe they were right. Maybe he was just being silly. Maybe you had attempted to make conversation with him on more than one occasion and maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t been as nice about it as he had thought he was. The truth was he was, he was insecure. Albeit he was aware of the feelings he had toward you and wanted to run to you the minute he knew, he had no idea how you felt. So when witnessed how close you and Yeonjun were, it brought him back to reality.

It made him realize that just because he liked you, it didn’t mean you felt the same – and it scared him. He knew Yeonjun was a great guy, who would definitely treat you as you deserved; like a queen. So if it was that you liked Yeonjun the way he liked you, he had no confidence to tell you the truth.

Seeing your rosy cheeks push up as you laughed at something Yeonjun had said again, he lowered his gaze into his soju glass and swirled around the bit which remained. After contemplating for a moment, he downed the remnants and grabbed his jacket off the back of his seat as he pushed it back. There was no way he could convince himself to confess to you. So instead of hurting himself by sitting there, he’d leave, is what he thought.

Soobin, who had initially been as oblivious as you were to Beomgyu’s feelings, knew exactly the kind of distress he would be putting himself through (after Taehyun and Kai had brought him up to speed, of course). When he saw Beomgyu get up, he placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a warm smile; meant to persuade him to sit back down.

“I’m pretty sure you and I know that Yeonjun and (Y/n) noona are pretty great, and that if they did have to get together, they’d be a pretty sick couple too,” he said, pouring Beomgyu and himself another drink.

Beomgyu grimaced. “Wow, that makes me feel a lot better. Thanks, Hyung.”

“Ah, no,” Soobin laughed, taking a sip from his glass before placing his hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder again. “What I mean is, that’s exactly who you are, Beomgyu. You’re kind and selfess; always prioritising the feelings of others, even over your own. Yeah, you’re really playful and annoying sometimes, but that’s just how you show your affection. And I’m sure that if you just tried, you’d been surprised at the outcome. Don’t go assuming how people feel.”

Huening grabbed Beomgyu’s waist and gave his tummy a hearty rub. “You’re great enough as you are, Hyung!”

As if on cue, your drunken mumbling cut them off. They all laughed, finding you extremely adorable. Your head, which had been resting on your arm, swayed left to right for about two minutes before finally slipping and falling to the table. Both Yeonjun and Beomgyu stuck their hands out to catch you before that could happen though, Yeonjun looking at Beomgyu in confusion.

The rest all passed glances at one another. Taehyun slapped Soobin’s shoulder, and Soobin sighed reluctantly.

“Well, I think it’s about time we head home. Huening and Noona are out cold,” he laughed, before slapping money down on the table and throwing Huenings arm over his shoulder. Taehyun got up to get Kai’s other arm, and Soobin looked to the three of you again; none of which had moved a muscle since. “Ah, Beomgyu, why don’t you take Noona home tonight? Hyung should come with us since we need someone to get a cab and get into the dorms for us.”

“But why can’t Beomgyu -”

Before Yeonjun could say any more, Beomgyu had already made his way to your side of the table and had slung your coat and bag around his shoulder. He carefully moved you onto his back, making sure not to wake you. You weren’t asleep though.

“Yooou smelll liike......Beomgyuu!” you giggled in your drunken stupor, tightening your arms and nuzzling your head into his neck. The poor boy’s heart feeling as if it could leap out of his chest.

The walk back to your apartment was silent, but not the awkward kind. It was almost mid-December; around the time that the first snow was expected to fall. People were either already home with their families, or making their way there, setting up Christmas decorations and planning the menu for their Christmas lunch. Beomgyu wasn’t able to go back to Daegu this year, but the comfort of the silence and your bodies pressed together – knowing that you were there with him, holding onto him tightly – it was enough for him.

The sound of you mumbling broke him from his trance, the sensation of your breath hitting his neck sending chills down his spine.

“Hmm? Are you sobered up a little now, Noona?”

Sucking in a sharp breath through your nose, you pushed yourself up and stuck your head over his shoulder. Realizing that it was in fact Beomgyu carrying you, you huffed, kicking your legs like a toddler so that he’d let you down. Thinking that was your answer to his question about your sobriety, he came to a stop and carefully set you down.

You shoved his back, stumbling a little. “I can get back home on my own.”

He had ignored you for the entire evening. Tonight was the first night you had been able to hang out together in months, but he didn’t even pay you any mind. You had been harboring this one-sided crush on him not long after you had first met one another. And it was driving you absolutely crazy.

For a night out drinking at a samgyeopsal restaurant, you had bought new clothes, made an appointment at the hair salon, carefully studied make-up tutorials on the internet and had spent the entire 2 days prior mulling over whether or not you should just tell him how you feel. It all seemed for naught, though, because the fool didn’t even look at you!

After shaking your head a bit to clear your field of vision, you pushed back the hair in your face and stuck out your arm in the direction of you apartment building in hopes that it’d keep you walking straight. You were good for about two or three steps, before the heel of your shoe got caught in the tar of the road and you slipped right into Beomgyu’s embrace.

“Noona, what are you doing. You’re still a little drunk, let me take you back.” He sighed, lifting your arm up over his shoulder. “Plus, do you have any idea how late it is? It wouldn’t be safe to let you go alone anyway.”

You scoffed, grabbing your arm back from his grasp. You turned to him and squinted, the same liquid blurring your vision giving you the courage to grab his face in your hands. Apparently alcohol wasn’t even enough to boost your confidence though, because after staring into his pretty brown eyes which seemed to sparkle even when laced with confusion and amusement, you sighed, throwing your hands down, before continuing to stumble up the street.

Damn boy is unrealistically gorgeous, and for what, you growled, mostly to yourself, but not entirely.

Beomgyu grabbed you arm and spun you around, with a big fat smirk plastered over his face. “You think I’m gorgeous?”

Your face quickly turned a deep shade of red, realizing he had heard you.

“What I’m saying, is that apparently what you have in looks you lack in brain cells.” you snapped, pulling your arms out of his grasp again. Only this time, he didn’t let you go so easily.

“You... think I’m gorgeous.” He smiled, laughing in such a way that you were almost certain it was he who was drunk.

“I just called you an idiot, and you’re focused on that?”

“You could call me Elena Gilbert and although I’d want to hit you in your throat, I’d still be completely in love with you.”

Oh, but how the tables had turned. You rested your arm against a car parked in the street, as a precautionary measure, in the case that you collapsed either from the alcohol or the disbelief. Beomgyu shoved his hands into his pockets and locked his eyes down onto the tar below his feet, lip between teeth and hating himself intensely. “What did you just say?” you asked, half giggling from the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach.

“I-I mean, I know you probably have a crush on Yeonjun hyung and all...” he said, voice breathy and unsteady as he pulled a hand from his pocket and placed it at the back of his neck. Your face fell and you felt almost completely sobered up now, standing a little straighter. “So it’s probably wrong of me to confess, b-but if I don’t do it now I might regret it, and Choi Soobin said something about me being a great guy – I mean I know, but -”

“So what I’m getting in between that attempt at self-praise, and the numerous attempts which are probably still pending, is that you think that I have feelings for Choi Yeonjun, right?”

“Well you spent all night talking to him, laughing at all those jokes that I could do better.”

Somewhere in between your back and forth banter about how Yeonjun was funny and how you didn’t have a crush on him, little flakes of snow had began their descent from the pitch black sky above. The two of you hadn’t noticed until the fall had become a bit heavier, some of them collecting in your hair. You both fell silent, and he joined you as you leaned up against the car.

Together, you watched the flakes make their journey down to the street, where they lumped up, covering the trees and rooftops in a white blanket. Others had now joined you in the streets, excitedly gasping and snapping photos with friends and family in the first snow of the year. The laughter of little kids could be heard too, running around with red noses as they flung one another with little clads of snow. It was magical and warm, and there was no one better you could imagine to have by your side.

You let out a sigh, your breath making a thick cloud float in the air. “I like you, a lot. I missed you so much during all these months apart, and right now, I feel like I’m the happiest person alive to know that you feel the same and that I get to be here with you.”

There was a silence again.

Beomgyu took your hand, slowly intertwining your fingers as he placed them into his coat pocket. As his thumb traced across yours, he whispered something which had your breath caught in you throat.

“There’s cheesecake in the dorm refrigerator, want to come?”

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juminly · 4 years

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A Losing Game

Summary: A bet was made between Arthur & Theodorus: the mystery writer was not allowed to flirt with you for an entire month. Arthur is not one to back down from a challenge. However, he had no idea what was at stake. Matchup story written for @dandellien. 💙

Nobody ever said anything about the exhaustion you would feel when travelling through time. Whatever happened when you went through that door, it clearly drained all of the energy from your body. You were hungry, thirsty, had a huge headache and were craving sleep. Comte had seen the look on your face when you had arrived, apparitions of dark circles forming around your eyes, more than enough proof that you did need to rest and be cared for.

While the pureblood accompanied you to your room, giving you but a glimpse of what you would face in the 19th century, being in a mansion filled with unknown men, you were evidently soothed by his graceful and eloquent demeanor, putting you at ease even though he had insinuated that the residents were not normal men. Not normal was a light way to put it because they were far from normal in more ways that you expected.

Historical figures that you knew quite well, seen them in history books, math, physics or even science books. You were already familiar with vampires, the myth and the fantasy of these creatures warped around multitude of novels, movies and various forms of art. Surprised, yes you were. Scared, not necessarily. You would have to wait and see things with your own eyes before judging and assessing the matter. How true could it be? You were beginning to wonder why did you even end up in such a place? Were you struck by some goddess of Fortune or was this a curse that you were damned to survive somehow?

Sebastian had already set up a light yet scrumptious supper for you and had drawn a nice warm bath for you to relax your body before actually realizing where you were and what kind of situation you were in, once you came face first with the reality of the matter. Theory was so much easier to take than reality. Anyone might have thought that they were simply trying to woo you into staying and keeping your mouth shut about what you’ve seen but they were clearly good people, no malicious intent detected in either Sebastian or Comte. But what about the others? After your bath, Sebastian was kind enough to sit by you and answer any questions you may have since he was the only human in the vampire-filled mansion and he graciously answered all the questions you had, especially about the other residents.

Were you prepared for what was to come? You probably didn’t have an answer but a tiny little messenger came to your rescue. At the crack of dawn, you could hear barking at your door. Sebastian didn’t tell you anything about dogs, let alone pets being around so this was an interesting way to start your day. Opening the door, you found the cutest little dog looking up at you with big brown eyes that you simply couldn’t resist. Picking him up in your arms and scratching his chin (earning you quite a few licks), you had already gotten enough sleep so you took it as an opportunity to roam around and discover more about the mansion before the other residents woke up.

You obviously had no idea who the little cutie in your arms belonged to so it was fair enough to say that you were not really snooping around the mansion but actually trying to find the dog’s owner, if anyone were to stop you in your tracks and question why you were walking around in the middle of the night. As you passed by the different hallways and peeked into different rooms, you came across the different rooms and areas of the mansion, jotting down the different pieces of information in the back of your head for future reference: you came across the library and found a tall man slouched on a pile of books, sleeping soundly with the sweet scent wafting through the air; a slender man with an eyepatch who greeted you meekly in the hallway before scurrying away, another man playing the piano with beautiful silver hair, the sharpest amethyst eyes and a glare that demanded he be left alone, without using any words. Going back to the conversation you had with Sebastian, those were Leonardo, Jean and Mozart. One thing they all had in common: they were all very handsome. Extremely so.

After exploring almost every part of the mansion, you already found out where the kitchen, the pantry, the thermae, the dining room were including other rooms where the other residents used. You found yourself standing in front of, what most probably was, the main door of the mansion. Your small new friend began barking and whining, seemingly telling you in his own language that he wanted to go out but you couldn’t possibly do that. You didn’t have the owner’s permission nor did you have a leash. A resounding playful voice came from behind you with an unmistakable lilting British accent, his words echoing through the mansion’s entrance with each click of his oxfords on the grand stairs, closing the distance between you.

“Oh dear! It seems that Vic’s brimming excitement couldn’t be held back at the scent of our new beautiful guest. If I may be so bold, I should admit that I raise Vic to be quite a fine little champ. He certainly does have an eye for beauty.” Turning around, your eyes were locked on this man’s handsome features, his tousled midnight blue hair, striking blue eyes and the beauty mark so delicately positioned by his lips, you couldn’t help but take in his appearance as he had gotten much closer, now standing before you. The smirk on his lips was also very telling, he had been assessing you in the same manner. Little did you know, He heard you talking to yourself in spanish while walking through the corridors, doing your own exploring of the mansion and he came to you like a moth to a windowpane. How could he even miss the sight, the smell and the voice of a fair maiden such as yourself walking in her lonesome in this mansion full of mongrels? They were not but he would’ve loved to take advantage of sweeping a cute poppet like you off her feet. Your hair was that of iridescent flames, cascades of lava that drew him in, dark eyes of coffee. “Comte was ever so gracious to inform me that we had a guest in our midst but he had made the grave mistake of omitting the fact that you were such a resplendent poppet. Allow me to introduce myself, love.”

He was absolutely beguiled by you, even more so when you began to speak, addressing him in a firm tone, interrupting his introduction in the mere pause as he took a break. “Arthur Conan Doyle, I know who you are. Sebastian told me all about you.” He seemed pleased to know that you already heard of him but still wished that he could be the one to make his first impression on his own, without having others establish them for him. You were not taken aback by his direct approach, yet his flirtiness did not click too well with you since he had yet to know you before even trying to seemingly romance you in the way he did with all the women he had clearly done the same with. You definitely said what was on your mind, stating it clearly before making your way back to your room since Vic was now with his owner. “If you’re trying to flirt with me, then I’m sorry but you’re mistaken if you think that you can do anything of the sort. If you may excuse me now, I must go ready myself before breakfast.”

It would be safe to say that Arthur was admittedly smitten with you. The way you smoothly yet respectfully talked back to him with that accent of yours was undoubtedly a beautiful sound that he would love to hear more and more of.

During breakfast, you had finally met all the residents at once and the Comte had obviously taken it upon him to introduce you to them all before the conversation on the dining table naturally flowed from unrelated conversation between a couple of the residents, where the rest simply listened in and back to questions about you, where you came from, your background and most importantly, your time. When the amount of questions seemed to get a bit too overwhelming, Leonardo was the one who spoke up, telling the rest of the vampires that they had plenty of time to ask you all the questions they wanted over the course of the month that you had to spend with them.

As you and Sebastian busied yourselves in clearing the dishes from the table, you could hear a booming brouhaha coming from the room where you had left the rest of the vampires. Looking at the stoic butler, he simply shrugged and you busied yourself by helping the man. On the other side of the man, the residents were all focused on a discussion that happened between the infamous partners in crime: Theodorus van Gogh and Arthur Conan Doyle. Theo noticed how uncharacteristically silent Arthur was during breakfast, sipping on his glass of Blanc while his eyes never left you for a moment, as you bit into your pancakes and drank your coffee/tea, a small smile cracking on your face here and then, noticing the little things that you did. With a wolfish grin, Theo made a bet with Arthur. If the writer is able to spend an entire month without flirting with you, the sadistic entrepreneur would pay for their tab at their go-to tavern/bar for an entire year. Arthur knew what his friend was trying to do, clearly testing him and seeing if he had an ounce of self-control in him. The game was on.

He would clearly prove him wrong. Or that’s what he thought. Two years instead of one and the deal was made.

It wasn’t hard for you to find what to do in that time. The wealth of knowledge that was surrounding you, it was more than enough to fill your days with activities and studying the things that you loved the most. Leonardo and Vincent were more than happy to give you tips on drawing, giving you tips on how to sketch the human body, understanding the intricacies behind different body types in a way that allowed you also to work on fashion, different styles, looks which is something you really loved.

Spending time on your own was not a hard task! There were so many corners in the mansion where you can just spend time alone with no one bothering you. You would often find Leonardo sleeping or reading in the library, stumbling across him or he’s just napping away wherever you find yourself but that didn’t really bother you. You would grab your notebook to write or draw or grab a book that one of the residents had recommended to you and just clear your mind and wind down, finding some much needed peace in the midst of this new lifestyle that you were thrown into.

Arthur though… the man couldn’t really stay away from you. Not that he did want to, on the contrary, he absolutely loved being in the presence of an enlightened woman such as yourself but he had to take extra care not to be flirty with you. One thing that Arthur didn’t do was lose. Unfortunately yet luckily for him, Vic took a liking to you and made it easier for you to get to know each other better when you would both take him on walks, daily and multiple days in a day. He was a spoiled boy and his Master was definitely the type to spoil him rotten. It was quite refreshing just seeing a different type of playful side to him. Pure, genuine and truly affectionate. Even… boyish.

[The famous skirt chaser wasn’t doing any chasing. Whenever he wasn’t around, he was trying to get enough writing done so he could spend time with the beautiful new guest who only had a month to spend with him… everyone AND him.]

You are usually so reserved around the residents, more of an observer than a talker, at least for the first few days in the mansion. Your frequent walks with Vic and Arthur did help you loosen up: getting to know more about Paris as you roamed around aimlessly, taken away by the depth of your conversations, the ways of the 19th century, all the little tidbits about the residents and also, see more of Arthur, besides the renown flirty playboy side, a label that everyone seems to be pinning on the handsome man. When you get deep into discussions with him, the way you get animated makes him melt. He doesn’t blatantly point it out but there is this glint of amusement and fondness in his eyes and the slightest twist in the corner of his lips, one of absolute admiration and infatuation when you do.

There is never a dull moment with Arthur: his mind is like the most intriguing, bewildering and mysterious place to be. He would try to tell you about how he comes up with the premise of his stories, would talk to you about the ideas of his books and how he gets inspired by things from his past and from his present, take you out on “dates” where you would go detective-solving… cause what better way to discover Paris and know everything there was to know about it.

He was very fond of your objectivity and honesty which definitely compliments the analytical side of your personality which he has come to see and know the more he spoke with you and from what he’s heard from Leonardo. He secretly loves your honesty also when you call him out on his shit: on why he even hates his own creations, knowing that there is hidden meanings behind whatever bogus response he gives you YET you don’t push him for more. You just let him know that he can talk to you.

In those moments, the fierceness in your eyes…he knew that it would be his demise.

He likes to pick your brain and keeps bombarding you with so many “what ifs”, possibilities and probabilities in deflecting and divergent plotlines in his stories until you end up digressing and not even discussing important elements that are crucial and necessary about his manuscripts. You always made things interesting which made him spend even more time with you, always attempting to monopolize your time in any way he can. Especially when you told him that something like MBTI personalities existed in your time, he was very interested in knowing so much more about it. You and also Sebastian jumped in to tell him all about it and his eyes lit up like firecrackers, already thinking of which characters would have which personality. He couldn’t help but feel closer to you, wanting to know you even more...intimately yet he denied himself from doing so. Yet, he couldn’t stop the kindling of affection within his heart, no matter how much he tried to push it away.

The fact that you had even more hidden talents made you even more attractive in his eyes. You knew how to play multiple instruments and didn’t care to tell him until… 2 weeks had passed since you arrived at the mansion. Arthur immediately worked his magic on Mozart somehow, getting him to teach you how to play the piano if you wanted to and had Leonardo prepare a little something special for you: a hand-crafted guitar that you could take with you when you decide to go back to the future (and the thought of you leaving saddened him so much but he didn’t dare say it, yet, the expression on his face said it all). If there is anything Arthur would be good at, and after keeping the resident devil company, persuading, convincing or bribing was an art that he had perfected. Quick-witted charmer that he was.

The sound of his boyish laughter was something that you couldn’t get enough of and that wide smile that stretched from ear to ear was absolutely the most beautiful expression that you’ve seen on him, complimenting his features in a way that suited him even more than that flirtatious mask he hides behind. He loves the look on your face when he can read your mind and knows exactly what you’re going to say before you even say it, when he teases you and especially when he’s able to draw a smile on your face: be it when he thanks you for helping brainstorm or solve a case, or when he buys you a yummy treat that he knows you’d love and enjoy (after forcing Sebastian to tell him the things you actually do enjoy eating since he had information (notes) about every single living being in than mansion. He was a goldmine, source of intel and Arthur wasn’t going to miss out on taking advantage of that fact).

Something exciting did happen, which you also didn’t expect! A trip to Madrid in Spain? It is one of the cities that is most known for it’s art and Theodorus was in need of a translator to accompany him so he can find his way around the city much easier than if he was alone (and you were also not bad company so he wouldn’t mind you tagging along, since he knows that you would appreciate the art as well, being an artist yourself.) BUT, Arthur was not having any of it. How was a young lady supposed to travel with another (very single and very handsome) man on her own? He decided to be the chaperone of your trip under the guise of exploring new avenues for an upcoming book of his that will possibly have events set in Spain (or maybe not, it didn’t even matter). Theo reminded his best friend about their bet/challenge and… well, the entrepreneur knew and told the klootzak right to his face that he’s weasling his way into this because… Well, Arthur shushed him before he could say any more than that but they both knew what he was going to say. The mystery writer wanted to wait until you left the 19th century before even thinking of admitting to others and to himself too.

After a long train ride from Paris to Madrid, Arthur made sure to book the room next to yours in case you needed anything. When you woke up in the morning, he would already be leaning next to your door with that wide boyish smile of his and his lilting “Good morning sunshine~” that evidently did things to your heart, escorting you to have breakfast together. Theo would show up to breakfast with his own bottle of syrup (Don’t even mention it. He had a feeling that he wouldn’t find the kind of syrup he liked in Spain so he got his own with him). The man was completely baffled to always find you there before him and also annoyed to see how sickeningly sweet Arthur was, doting on you a little more than he ever saw him do with any of the other skirts he’s ever pursued. This is not the normal kind of attention he gave a woman and as his best friend, this proved how deep Arthur had already fallen for you. He did throw in a few comments such as: “ Why are you treating her like a small pup? She can take care of herself. Unless she asked you to put her on a leash…”

If you thought you had fun in Paris, it was even more fun in Madrid! You went to multiple museums, galleries and countless restaurants, indulging both in the savoury and sweet of the city, getting the best taste of the city. It was hilarious seeing Arthur trying to communicate with the locals with that British accent of his and try to use whatever Spanish he caught from your brief discussions with Leonardo (where he thought he managed to catch a few words but he was horribly mistaken). You also somehow managed to get lost while going shopping, which made your time out and about together even longer. Not that either of you was complaining. You both had the time of your life and you both had smiles to match and confirm that statement.

Besides the fact that Arthur wouldn’t let go of your hand at any given moment when you were wandering the city, claiming that he wouldn’t find his way back to the hotel without you and that you were the only one that could keep him from getting lost. He also didn’t like how lots of men’s eyes lingered on you whenever they spoke to you (and the fact that he didn’t even understand what they were telling you didn’t bear well with him, he wasn’t having it at all) or just simply when you passed by and turned heads. This man was definitely not jealous (sarcasm) but he was not blind and he had eyes of his own to see just how beautiful you were, inside and out. He was just glad to be the one holding your hand, even though he held on to it “just as your friend”. Whenever Theo looked disgruntled and rolled his eyes at you two, Arthur always teased him and offered to hold his hand too if he didn’t want to feel left out, making the dutch man obviously grumble and walk away from you.

He should’ve known… He should’ve known and he beat himself over it, cursing his gloves as you were on the train, on the way back to France. While Arthur had excused himself to the restroom and decided to go get the three of you some coffee and treats, he comes back to find that you had fallen asleep… with your head on Theodorus’ shoulder. He was definitely not happy about the sight and his best friend could definitely see that, muttering a “Stop glaring at me like a rabid dog, klootzak. I don’t like this either.” Arthur stopped in his tracks, noticing how flushed your cheeks were and how your breathing was a little quicker than normal for someone who was asleep. Removing one of his gloves, he presses his palm against your forehead and your neck. You had a fever.

Arthur immediately gets into anxious doctor mode and tends to you however he can until you reach Paris, where he would be able to take care of you even better. Theo knew that this was not just some act. Arthur’s concern for you was real but it was way more than just a doctor’s oath to take care of his patients. Come on, Arthur. Who do you think you’re deceiving? He basically carried you to the carriage and also inside the mansion, giving out orders as nicely and calmly to Sebastian the moment he set foot in the mansion. He was composed, or at least, tried to be but he was also worried. A fever from exhaustion should not be taken lightly as it can turn into something worse if you didn’t get all the rest that you truly needed.

When you woke up…

Opening your eyes slowly, you blinked only to find Arthur leaning on the side of your bed. “Why are you here? It looks like you haven’t slept for ages, Arthur.” You reached out and threaded yours fingers through his tousled hair. “I know you’re worried about me, Arthur. I promise you I’ll be just fine. I know you’ve been taking good care of me and you know… It’s just exhaustion, right? There’s nothing for you to worry about it. I already feel much better thanks to you.”

The expression on his face was so soft and tender, a “wistful” smile drawn on his usually smirked lips. He held your hand, rubbing his leather-clad thumb smoothly over it before he kissed your knuckles gently. “Rest well, my love. I refuse to leave your side.” He bit the tip of his index, pulling out his glove from his other hand and leaned and reached to check your temperature, before leaning forward to press his lips against your forehead, sighing. “You’re still a tad warm but you are indeed better. I should’ve taken your word for it.”

“And should I take your word that you kissed me just because you wanted to check my temperature?”

With that irresistible boyish smile drawn on his handsome face, he chuckled like a schoolboy that has just been caught doing something wrong. That’s how he truly was deep down and it was refreshing just seeing him like that. “Guilty as charged.” His striking blue eyes locked on yours before faltering a little too long on your lips as he licked his own and whispered softly - “I may have ulterior motives but I assure you, my intentions are as pure as they come.” - before capturing your lips in a much awaited kiss, so sweet and tender, pouring all the affection he ached to show you before, all the pent-up emotions he strained himself not to show you in his quest in being a good friend to you.

Arthur didn’t come out of that challenge a loser, but a winner. Getting the greatest prize… no, the most priceless thing he could ever ask for: you and your love. Although it cost him a bill of 2 years worth of alcohol expenses at the bar, he was more than happy to pay it.

This man will shower you with words of affection all day long, tell you he loves you, kiss you whenever he gets the chance, in public or in private, this man is absolutely taken by you and he doesn’t even mind it. He will call you: love, darling, my lovely poppet, my sunshine and even try to throw in a few Spanish pet names: cariña, mi amor and even mi sol. You always wondered why he always referred to you as his sun or sunshine but he told you that you brightened up his life, with your honesty, your intelligence and most importantly, the joy you brought into his life.

You were surprised to discover that Arthur was BIG on cuddling. There isn’t a night that goes by (or even a nap) without cuddling. It is not for naughty reasons, as opposed to what everyone else in the mansion might think, but more for reassurance that you will always stay by his side and leave. His worst nightmare is waking up and not finding you there, the day you realize that he’s not good enough of a man for you yet he will spend his every waking moment trying to be better for you, prove that he is more than what his reputation paints him to be. He is the man that loves you, cherished you and values you even more than his own writing.

Arthur does get quite jealous sometimes. He just can’t help it. For example: he gets jealous when you sometimes get all dreamy when you listen to Mozart composing. He’s one of the biggest figures in music history so it would only be natural for you to be in awe whenever you came across him. His music does help you with your writing especially when he plays very calm tunes. It’s nothing like anything you’ve experienced before and it’s so inspiring. Arthur would frown, pout and even sulk sometimes whenever he sees that another man has captured your attention in a way that he never could (and he looks absolutely adorable when he does, like a lost whiny puppy). He would wrap his arms around you and nuzzle you when you’re writing or simply rub his hand softly on your waist while he rests his head on yours or on your shoulder. He scrambles for ways to get part of your attention or get some reassurance from you without getting in your way or becoming an inconvenience.

Kisses of affection: your knuckles, your hand and your forehead.

Warning: NSFW ahead

His kinks: everything in the book. Anything you can imagine, he’s willing to do with you. If you don’t like it, he’s up to trying the next thing with you. But a few favourites of his are: cockwarming, roleplay, edging, overstimulation, edging, BDSM and body worship. Rest assured that he will ALWAYS keep things interesting between you.

Favourite place to bite you: your thighs.

He can be whatever you want him to be in bed, he is a switch after all. He’ll worship you endlessly when he’s in command and will whine and beg for you whenever you take the reins. All he wants is to be with you, it doesn’t matter how.

You are definitely the luckiest person in the mansion, ending up with the most versatile and open lover of them. He’s willing to do everything with you, and driven by his lust and love for you, he will dirty talk until you’re soaking wet and clenching around nothing in anticipation for him and sweet talk you to tears, overwhelming you with the sweetness of love.

#ikevamp arthur #ikemen vampire arthur #ikevamp arthur conan doyle #ikemen vampire arthur conan doyle #ikevamp fluff #ikemen vampire fluff #ikemen vampire fanfic #ikevamp fanfic #ikemen vampire headcanons #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp matchup #ikemen vampire matchup #ikemen series #otome #cybird

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banditthewriter · 4 years

Text

Trust Is Earned - Charles Vane - 5

And here we have part five which means we’re half way through! As always, thank you to the readers!

Warning: Violence against the reader. Also fake dating trope but like, is that a warning a promise?

*gif not mine*

Enjoy!

------

Vane’s tent hadn’t moved but it felt like it was such a long walk. It also felt like everyone was staring at you, although you were sure that was just in your imagination. You smiled and nodded in greeting to a few people as you passed them, but most people paid you no mind. It was getting dark, although still a while before the sun was down completely, so people were preparing for whatever they had planned for the night.

It didn’t occur to you that Vane might not be alone until you got to the opening of his tent. It was pulled open so you could see inside and thankfully not see anyone in there besides the captain.

You weren’t sure your plan would work if he had someone in his bed.

He turned when you cleared your throat, obviously startled to see you there.

“Are you–”

“Just, uh, one moment,” you said before you entered into the tent so that you could release the cord that held the covering. It closed over the doorway to alert people not to intrude or disturb unless it was life or death.

You turned back to him and took a few steps further inside. And then a few more until you were closer to where he was sitting with some papers in front of him.

“There’s something we need to talk about I think.”

His hand twitched on the table as if he wanted nothing more than to reach over for the bottle of rum next to him, but instead he turned to face you. He waved one hand for you to go on.

Now if only you had thought about how to word this on your way here.

“I had a talk with Eleanor Guthrie a little while ago. It seems she saw the two of us sneak off the beach in the same direction and she’s… come up with her own ideas as to why.”

He sat up, his hands pressed onto his knees as he stared at you.

“Does she suspect we’re working together?”

You hoped that you didn’t wince as you said this next part.

“She thinks we’re seeing each other. Or at least sleeping together.” You let him reel from that one for a second before you continued, “She said that your hauls have gotten less impressive and, well, she intimated about a worry about your ability to lead and that she wouldn’t be surprised if a vote was called to replace you.”

There, you’d gotten it all out in one go. Now you just needed to broach the reason you came here now instead of telling him this in a letter or through a third party like Rackham.

“The crew doesn’t care that we’re splitting the haul as long as they get paid. And since we started this partnership, they are making more than they ever did with Eleanor. They aren’t looking to vote me out. My question is what she can do about my ability to lead.”

This was not the direction you had planned for, but it made sense that this was his worry. You put your own thoughts to the back so that you could help him plan for this.

“She’s not supposed to have any pull over the crews, but I guess if she loses faith in your abilities as captain she can try to depose you.”

He shook his head, but you didn’t think he was turning down what you had said. It seemed he was thinking ahead as well.

“The crew wouldn’t go for that. Like I said, I’m the reason they are making as much as they are right now.”

Part of the reason, but you weren’t about to point that out. He had a point though.

“What about an embargo? She could withhold sale of your goods, encouraging merchants to do the same unless the crew turns against you.”

He stood up and started to pace away from you.

“She could. The bitch would,” he admitted venomously as he turned back towards you. “And then she’d want to know why the crew still wouldn’t turn against me. If it comes to that, it’ll come out that I’m selling to you as well.”

Which would put a nice little target on your front door. You’d been working with your contacts to come up with a protection plan for yourself, but it wasn’t easy. They needed to get men to you but they needed ones that they could trust. Loyalty wasn’t exactly for sale.

“If it comes to that, I’ll deal with the consequences on my end,” you said with a wave of your hand. Might as well throw out the reason you came here. “The reason I’m here is regarding the first part of what she told me.”

He tilted his head as he looked at you.

“She thinks we’re fucking. And this upsets you.”

After your reaction the night of the storm, you understood why he thought that way. You weren’t about to get into the intricacies of it. Instead you put your hands on the table to offer your newest proposition.

“I suggest we let her think that, actually. Instead of secret meetings and codes, we become a little more… obvious. Make her think that we’re sleeping together so that she won’t suspect the truth. That should gain us a little more time before she figures out what’s really going on.”

You weren’t sure that Vane could look more shocked if you had told him that he was going to have to make The Ranger fly instead of sail. It didn’t take long for him to have that cocky look on his face once more.

“If she believes that, others will too. The whole of Nassau will think we’re fucking.”

Yes, you were aware of that. Which of course meant some uncomfortable conversations with Billy were in your future, but you didn’t want to think about that right then.

“We’ll have to play into the part a bit. We can have these kinds of discussions at the shop and I’ll lock up for the time. People can think what they want then.”

He moved over to the comfortable looking pallet that was obviously where he slept. He looked from you to it and then back to you again.

“If I were taking you to bed, what do you think we’d be doing if you came to my tent like this?”

The shop gave you privacy where no one could hear anything. You knew for a fact that people in these tents could be heard from people outside. You drew the line at faking sex and the other option… wasn’t an option.

“Don’t you know Vane? Ladies prefer to make love in their own beds.” You gave him a smile and turned back towards the opening of the tent. “I’ll send for you when I have your next lead. If this plan displeases you, send Rackham and Bonny like usual. I will continue to work on my own safety contingencies.”

You slipped through the opening and out of the tent. There were a few people that saw your departure, but none of them said anything to you.

Whether your presence there would reach Eleanor Guthrie or not, at least you had done what you had come to the beach to do. The plan wasn’t foolproof of course, there were plenty of things that could cause a problem, but you were juggling a lot at the moment.

You were doing the best you could with what you had.

------

The tavern was more packed than you had seen it in a long time. The sun was still up so you had stopped by for a quick meal with some of your friends and other merchants. While the alcohol flowed freely, you stuck to water. Most of the patrons remembered the last time you had freely drank at the tavern and how quickly you had gotten drunk.

You were a little ashamed to say that you had slept with someone but you weren’t sure who it was. You’d woken up at the inn feeling well and truly fucked, happily so, but no sign of your partner. No one could remember who you had gone to the inn with but since Mr. Noonan only employed female whores and you could vaguely remember a male body from that night, you could rest assured that you hadn’t paid for it.

Since that night you hadn’t had another drink. While you didn’t mind anonymous sex, especially anonymous sex that made you feel as good as that had, you didn’t like the feeling of not knowing what had happened.

The conversations flowed as freely as anything else. You had been involved in a lively debate about the price of sugarcane for half the meal. It gave you a good distraction from your new reality.

As more men started to flow into the tavern, you started to feel like you were being watched.

It wasn’t an uncommon feeling in Nassau, but you had learned to trust your instincts. Everything in you right then was telling you to leave.

You finished your meal and paid, making excuses to the friends you had joined for the meal. Their night was just beginning but you were ready to head home for the night. It wasn’t very adventurous but you had enough adventure in your days working with Vane under everyone’s noses.

As you turned to leave, you nearly ran straight into Jack Rackham with Anne Bonny at his side. He smiled at you the moment he saw who it was, his face almost breaking at the force.

“If it isn’t the lovely Y/N herself. I was just telling Anne that I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages. Our captain has been monopolizing your time, hasn’t he?”

That’s what the exaggerated smile and loud voice was for. He was giving you Vane’s response in public, ensuring that tongues would be wagging before you even made it to the street. It’d only been a day since you had given him the proposition but he didn’t seem to want to wait for you to reach out to him.

Vane really did nothing by halves, did he?

“Always a pleasure Jack. Miss Bonny,” you said to Anne, showing her a bit more respect since you were more frightened of her than of the quartermaster.

But your friendly nature and the informal way you addressed Rackham, uncommon for you to interact with any pirate that way except Billy, would definitely throw gunpowder on the fire.

Rackham’s smile softened to something a little more honest. Even Anne gave you a bit of a smile as you passed them. If your informal greeting to Jack didn’t set tongues wagging, Anne’s variable bear hug of a smile would do so.

It would seem that for all intents and purposes, you were Charles Vane’s new mistress.

------

Footsteps. As you walked to your shop up the long, winding road, you heard footsteps behind you. You hadn’t turned to look, not wanting to let the person know that you heard them, but you made sure that your steps were a little longer and faster.

With your shop in view, you almost broke into a run, but it was too late. A hand went around your throat at the same time that someone rushed in front of you to cut off your escape. It meant at least two attackers, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t more.

You didn’t have your pistol on you. Not even a knife. The only thing you had were your fists and your wits. You swung back with all of your strength and landed your elbow against the jaw of the man who held you. He swore vehemently and then wrapped his arms around you, your arms pinned to your sides as he lifted you up like that. It gave you leverage to kick out at the other man that approached, catching him in the face with your left heel.

The sound of a broken nose echoed in your ears but you didn’t care. All you cared about was not letting this progress any further.

“Stop fucking fighting or I’ll slit your throat.”

You felt a blade against your throat and immediately stopped squirming in case the blade cut into you. The man whose face you had kicked looked like he wanted to kill you, blood running down his face and shirt. Instead he pointed his own knife at you.

“You should gut the bitch,” he growled to the man that held you.

“It’s not off the table,” the one that held you spat as he squeezed you with the arm not holding the knife. “She wouldn’t be able to give Vane our message like that though.”

“It’d send a message sure enough.”

You were about to scream. Not even ten minutes after Jack Rackham had proved to the whole of the tavern that you were Vane’s woman, you were attacked in the woods on your way to your home. If this is what Eleanor had been warning you about, you might just take your pistol with you to the tavern next time.

“You tell Charles Vane that he’s to step down as captain of The Ranger. He hasn’t brought shit to Nassau in months and it’s not to be tolerated. If he doesn’t, we’re going to come to your little shop and set it on fire while you sleep.”

“We know you live there too,” the man in front of you spat, blood spraying onto your face.

If they were giving you a message for Vane, that meant they weren’t going to kill you. You just needed to keep from pissing them off any further and they’d let you go.

The one holding you ran a hand up your side until he got to the top of your bodice, pulling as if he wanted to rip it off of you. Your fight or flight instincts kicked in and you started to squirm, the knife cutting into your throat a bit as you did.

A fist crashed into your face. Then again. Next was a boot to your stomach when you fell to the ground. A boot to your back followed as you curled in to protect your stomach. You couldn’t breathe, the pain too much, but nothing else came. When you peeked out from where your face was almost squashed into the dirt, you saw the backs of the two men as they went back through the woods.

You quickly stood up, your legs shaking and barely holding your weight. All you needed was to get to your shop and then you’d be safe. Relatively. It felt like a journey across a continent rather than just a few yards, but finally you were there. Hands shaking and covered in dirt, you fished out your keys and let yourself into the shop.

Tonight you’d see to your injuries. Tomorrow you’d have a word with Vane. This… was not going to happen again.

------

“What the fuck happened to you?”

You looked up from where you were trying to load your pistol. One eye was swollen but not completely closed at least. You had a busted lip as well. To round that out, it hurt to breathe, your back felt like hell, and you had to tie a cloth around your neck because the cut there was deeper than you had thought.

If you looked like you felt, you didn’t blame Rackham for his shock.

“I’m to be a messenger for your captain,” you said with a wince as you sat up in the chair a bit more. Normally you didn’t sit when you were in the shop, but right then you weren’t sure you could stand. “Do you mind loading this pistol for me? I can’t seem to stop shaking long enough and I’d hate for it to accidentally go off on me.”

He said something to Anne Bonny who you hadn’t even noticed. She turned and made her way out of the shop, leaving just you and Jack.

If you were going to be pretending to fuck his captain, you might as well actually refer to him by his first name.

Jack took the pistol from you and went through the motions of loading it for you. You leaned back into the chair and let out a whimper as it stretched out the muscles of your back.

“Again, the fuck happened to you? What do you mean you’re to be a messenger for Charles?”

You reached up and gingerly touched the skin under your eye. You hadn’t looked in the mirror this morning, not wanting to see just how bad the damage was.

“Last night on my way back here, I was set upon by two… men. I didn’t recognize either of them, but they knew me. And they wanted me to pass a message to Vane.”

“What message is that?”

You swallowed thickly as you accepted the pistol back from Jack.

“He’s to step down as captain of The Ranger.”

Jack swore a colorful amount. Then he looked back at you.

“And if he doesn’t?”

You laughed, wincing and pressing a hand to your side as you did so.

“They’ll come and set fire to my shop while I’m sleeping.”

Had you thought that Jack’s first swears were colorful? This put a whole new meaning to the term. There might have even been a few new swear words created this go around.

You watched him as he paced through your shop. You wanted to ask why he was still there, but you had a feeling you knew. Just like you had a feeling that you knew where Anne had disappeared to.

Sure enough not long after she had disappeared did she return, one fuming captain with her. The shop seemed to grow smaller as Vane stalked forward.

“What the fuck happened here?”

You wanted to laugh but you were worried if you did, it might turn into tears. Instead you gestured at Jack.

“As I was just telling your quartermaster, I’m to be a messenger for you. You’re to step down as captain of The Ranger due to you not bringing in as much to Nassau anymore. If you don’t, they’ll come back and set my shop on fire.”

“While she’s in it,” Jack added when it seemed like you weren’t going to.

Vane swore simply, but it was efficient.

“What I don’t get is that we’re bringing in probably more to Nassau. Why would someone want him to step down for that?”

You looked over at Anne and shook your head.

“It wasn’t one of your crew, not that I recognized at least. I think it might have been someone working for Eleanor Guthrie.”

That… was not a name you should have mentioned around the three of them. Suddenly your store became a cacophony of noise as the three of them all yelled back and forth. You didn’t even try to follow but you did put a stop to it by slamming your hand against the counter you were sat at.

“Enough. Fuck, my head is killing me already, I don’t need this shit. Listen,” you added a little softer because your head was pounding, “Eleanor said something when she talked to me that day. It was after she said that she wouldn’t be surprised if they called a vote on you. She said that she didn’t want something to happen to me because I was tangled up with you.”

Vane took a few steps towards you.

“You think she had someone go after you to get to me?”

You shook your head. Although you wouldn’t normally put that past Eleanor, right then it didn’t feel right.

“I think she genuinely doesn’t want anything to happen to me because while she doesn’t exactly like me, I’m a necessary evil in her eyes. I think she hired some men to pass a message on to you and they decided to deviate and go after me. Maybe they thought I was an easier target than Captain Vane himself.”

“That… makes sense, I’m sorry to say,” Jack said with a frown as he looked over at his captain. “Some of the crew had mentioned that some people on the beach had been asking why you’re still captain if we aren’t bringing in bigger hauls. Since the men are getting paid, they are keeping their mouths shut. Maybe if they weren’t able to incite a vote, they decided to demand one instead.”

Vane spun around and slammed his fist into the wall of the shop.

“Oi, there’s been enough damage to my shop by The Ranger crew without you adding to it,” you said as you stood up and went around the counter. “What’s done is done, now we need to figure out what we’re going to do about it. If anyone has any plans, please speak up. As long as it doesn’t end up with me burning alive in my sleep.”

Vane spun back to face you. He marched to clear the short distance between the two of you, Anne and Jack both stepping back to give him the space. In spite of the fury on his face, his hand was gentle as he raised your chin to look at the damage.

“What did they look like?”

His voice was so soft, another difference to the rage in his eyes. You reached up and tugged self consciously at the cloth on your neck. It drew his eyes there and he moved your hand so that he could tug it down a bit to see what it was hiding.

If you’d thought he’d been furious before. Seeing the slit across your neck and the knowledge of how close you had come to dying had apparently reignited that fire.

“What. Did they. Look like.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a demand.

You quietly gave the description as best you could. The problem was that most of the men on the island were fairly similar looking.

“I kicked one in the face, broke his nose. There was blood everywhere. If you can find someone with a recently broken nose, you’ll probably find his partner with him. Stray dogs tend to roam in packs,” you said lowly as you pulled away from Vane and went back to the counter.

He said something to Jack and Anne that you didn’t hear, but they both nodded their head before they turned to leave the shop. Alone with Vane, you found yourself curiously nervous.

Why was it that you always felt this way when he was around?

“Did anything else happen?”

Anything else? You wondered what he thought you were leaving out but then you saw the look on his face. Uncomfortable but earnest.

It clicked into place.

“No, nothing else. There’d be more damage than a broken nose if they had done that.”

Vane nodded his approval of that. He looked at the pistol that you had placed on the counter and then back to you. He bent down and pulled something from the top of his boot before he held it out to you.

Hilt first, he held a long dagger in hand. You looked up at him and then back to the dagger.

“Take it. You need to be able to protect yourself. A dagger doesn’t need to be reloaded.”

No, just thrust into its target.

You accepted the dagger from him. The weight of it was strange in your hand, but not unknown. You’d held daggers before, used to carry them when you did your deliveries. You had become complacent in Nassau, had gotten too comfortable and felt too safe. You wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“What happens now?”

Vane approached until he was right in front of you.

“We’ll find them and I’ll kill them.”

You’d know that from the moment you saw his face. No one could go off and make a move against any captain like they had done, much less against Captain Vane.

“And if they are working for Eleanor?”

His face changed at that. So many emotions crossed his face that you barely had the chance to catch them before they were gone.

“I’ll handle it.”

He started to leave but you reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“Charles,” you started, not even realizing that you’d used his first name for the first time, “you can’t go against her like that. She’ll–”

He turned back to you, his hand going up to grab your chin to stop you from speaking. The touch and the closeness was so intimate that for a brief moment you thought he might lean in to kiss you. Instead he let his hand go up to brush your hair back from your face.

“I’ll handle it.”

It wasn’t a clarification, but you realized what he was really saying.

Trust. You had to trust him to handle it. So you closed your eyes and gave a quick nod. When you opened your eyes, it was to see him disappear out of the shop.

Now you just had to wait to see what happened next.

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#charles vane #charles vane imagine #charles vane x reader #charles vane fanfic #black sails imagine #my writing #trust is earned

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milky-mochi · 4 years

Text

before you (1) | cyj

genre: nerd! yeonjun, nerd! reader, aged up! yeonjun, college! au, boyfriend! yeonjun

pairing: choi yeonjun x reader

summary: falling in love with choi yeonjun was like breezing through the chapters of a book, with highlights of him bookmarked in your head.

listen to: 🎶 me after you - paul kim 🎶

chapters: intro | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

i. the first meeting

the first time you met choi yeonjun, it was at library club at 18.

the librarian had taken maternity leave and had no one available to take her place. your college, reluctant to hire a replacement, had set up a library club to get volunteers to maintain the library. you loved the library, you loved the librarian, and you loved those credits, so you didn’t think twice when signing up.

choi yeonjun was the first to arrive at the first meeting, arriving twenty minutes early. you had seen him in some of your lectures, and the both of you were known as the overachievers of the school, so you spotted him right away. his thick cream turtleneck was tucked into grey trousers, as his round metal glasses sat proud on the bridge of his nose. he sat by the meeting zone, reading a book bound in leather. when you came closer, you recognised it as one of your favourites.

“hey!” you chirped, setting your bag down in the seat beside him. “you read lori phillips too? she’s brilliant isn’t she?”

temporarily startled, yeonjun panickedly looked up at you. after recognising your face, his lips curled ever so slightly in a tiny smile. he picked his bookmark up from the table and placed it gingerly between the pages. setting the book on his lap, he replied, “yes she is. she’s my favourite author.”

“mine too! in my opinion,” you started, shrugging your coat off, “son of the devil was her best book. the intricacy of the plot was amazing.”

yeonjun cocked his eyebrow. “really? i think cherry bride was her best work. the character development in it was far better than any of her other books.”

“cherry bride was good, but the plot was kinda stagnant.”

“that’s because it’s a character-based story!”

the debate between you and yeonjun soon escalated into an in depth analysis of the author’s famous works. even as more people lingered around the waiting zone for the library club, out of which were people the both of you knew, the discussion continued uninterrupted. it was surprising to you. you had never held a conversation with him before, but the words slipped from your mouth with no effort when you talked to him.

your discussion only hit a break when the head of the english department appeared to give all the volunteers a briefing. with a list in hand, she cleared her throat, beckoning everyone to gather around her.

“thank you everyone for volunteering, everyone. as you know, this will be a student-led initiative. as such, we'll need to elect a president and a vice-president to preside over your duties.

"considering that some of you are fairly new to the proceedings of the library, and that you may not know each other well enough, the president and vice-president will be the two with the highest number of borrowed books from the library. thus, your president will be y/n, and your vice-president will be yeonjun. i now leave you in their capable hands," she finished, handing you a stack of papers and leaving immediately.

both you and yeonjun stood rooted to the ground. sure, the english faculty was notorious for their reluctance towards involvement in extra-curricular affairs, but this was insane. she didn't even give you time to rebut or ask any questions. how the hell did this make sense? how the hell were you supposed to do this?

yeonjun nudged you as he gave you an awkward laugh. everyone turned to look at you expectantly, waiting for a speech, or instructions, or anything a new president would do. wringing your hands, you stood up. “well, uh, this is something,” you laughed, “does anyone have any objections with the whole president thing? any notions of re-election?”

you received no response, apart from blank stares.

“okay then,” you said, eyes darting between the crowd.

yeonjun crossed his arms and leaned against a chair, giving you a look midway between assuring and challenging. clenching your jaw, you straightened your posture. right, you were the it girl. you couldn’t seem incapable in front of the smartest boy in school. you were better than that. “right, here’s how we’re gonna do this.”

“there are fifteen people here, excluding myself and yeonjun. we need eight people for shelving, four people for counter duty, and three for admin processing. group yourselves according to which task you want to do. yeonjun and i will oversee everything. is that okay?”

instead of nods, everyone shuffles to group themselves. yeonjun nods and makes his way over to you. “well, ms president, that was impressive for being thrusted into leadership right from the start.”

“thank you, sir,” you say, giving a mock bow, “i try my best.”

by now, everyone had finished grouping themselves. telling everyone to sign out at 5pm before leaving after their duty, you sent everyone off on their duties.

occasionally, over the first thirty minutes, you would drop by every group to check in on how they were doing and if they needed any help. but eventually, people started getting sick of you. you sighed, leaning against a shelf, and picking out a book to browse through.

“hey y/n, i’m pretty sure people are sick of us checking on them,” yeonjun said, peeking over a bookshelf.

startled, you step back and put a hand over your heart. yeonjun giggled, muttering an apology through his smile. after realising it was him, you giggled too. “you think? they shooed me away like i was an insect or something. like, we’re just trying to do our job, dudes.”

yeonjun laughed. “maybe everyone hates the ‘smart kids’, huh.”

your eyes widened as you registered his words. you’d never expected him to say that, or feel that burden either. you shouldered the label, tried so hard every day to ignore the snide remarks that people gave you for trying your best. for so long, it seemed like it was your pain, and yours alone, because no one else deserved to feel it. it never occured to you that there was someone else suffering too.

with your lack of response, yeonjun panicked. “i’m sorry i didn’t mean to impose i-”

“it’s okay,” you said softly, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “i get you.”

the both of you shared a smile, and it felt like the ghost of the hug both of you needed desperately. but as reality set in, you were acutely aware of your hand, and yeonjun seemed to realise the same thing at the same time. you quickly pulled it away before awkwardly clenching your fist, letting it drop to your side. yeonjun cleared his throat and his eyes darted towards the floor. in order to avoid any more eye contact, he glanced at his watch.

“it’s a quarter to four,” yeonjun said hurriedly, “and there’s nothing left to do. i think it would be okay to leave. are you going home?”

you shook your head. “nope, i have a consultation at six.”

yeonjun’s mouth rounded as he nodded in understanding, though you swore you caught a glint of disappointment in his eyes. at the prospect of that possibly being true, a tiny spark of excitement ignited in your heart, before you chided yourself for it. yet, you couldn’t help yourself from smiling. he was smart, loved lori phillips, and was kinda cute.

“well, we could probably make a move now.”

quickly, as if your body was on autopilot, you snatched a pen from the breast pocket of his coat. retrieving a small post-it from your pocket, you put pen to paper, before handing it to yeonjun.

“here’s my number,” you said. when yeonjun cocked his eyebrow, you felt nervousness brew in your chest. hurriedly, you added, “for like, the club and stuff. in case we need to contact each other.”

flashing another smile, yeonjun nodded, but in a way that made you think he didn’t entirely believed you. “i hope it won’t only be for that, y/n,” he smiled, pocketing your note. “well there’s still an hour before your consultation, you wanna, uh, grab a coffee?”

you smiled to yourself, almost sheepishly enough for you to be embarrassed. “sure!”

“great! then we can discuss how cherry bride was definitely lori phillips’ best book.”

“was not!”

next chapter

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multi-fandom-asks · 4 years

Note

(this is definitely not the mod for this blog who needed somewhere else to post this idk what you’re talking about) Paladins x reader tea meme!

(ah yes hello stranger)

For the tea meme, (created by @bite-sizedfe), I’ve chosen rosehip tea, green tea, and English breakfast tea. The questions that correlate with these teas are down below. And for the Paladins, I’m including all six of them (Allura, Keith, Lance, Pidge, Hunk, and Shiro)

rosehip tea 🌹 (how romantic are they? How do they show affection to their S/O?)

Keith

definitely not the connoisseur of romance but don’t mistake that for insincerity

he’s the guy that doesn’t go into theatrics; but makes sure to perform meaningful gestures

flowers for an anniversary or birthday

gifts that hold an incredible amount of significance

road trips all over Earth, listening to rock music and eating fast food

cozy, unexpected moments of intimacy, especially at home doing regular tasks like cooking or cleaning, are the norm with him

Lance

do you want a man that takes you on extravagant dates? you’ve found him

this boy goes all out for you

cleans all the way up, looks so handsome, and constantly showers you in compliments

concerts, broadway shows, walks in scenic parks, fancy restaurants, etc. anything that’ll put a smile on your pretty face

and you’ll totally rest your head on his shoulder

and he’ll take a moment to wonder how he’s so lucky

Hunk

more low key than Lance, more extravagant than Keith...a happy medium if you will

he will absolutely cook for you

dancing in the kitchen

watching movies all night long

getting to that point of sleepy where you giggle at everything

cuddles cuddles cuddles

Shiro

pretty traditional guy

a lunch date filled with conversation

or a simple trip to the store

if he’s with you, he’s happy

will buy you flowers all the time

always straightforward and vocal about how much he loves you

Allura

Allura wants to explore all the intricacies of Earth, and she wants you to accompany her

swimming in lakes, watching fireworks, or visiting the zoo so she can see the animals of Earth

but she also adores quiet nights in, snuggling or just talking with you

sometimes it’s a night filled with laughter and stories

others it’s a night of content silence and happy sighs

either way, she’s the luckiest Altean in the galaxy

Pidge

literally will spend hours playing video games with you and just having a really good talk

sitting on the rooftop, watching the sunset

tons of museum dates

visiting her family (plus her gushing about how amazing you are to everyone in the household)

midnight meet ups in the kitchen to eat ice cream out of the container while talking about that weird dream you had

trying weird DIY projects that will often fail but be the most hilarious thing in the world

green tea 🍵 (how do they comfort their S/O?)

Keith

he’s actually very perceptive to your emotions and has grown familiar with your mannerisms (plus what they mean)

he’ll always be concerned that he did something wrong, or there’s something you’re keeping secret from him

he will take it upon himself to give you space if you need it (he understands that)

but if you need a shoulder to cry on, he will be at your side in an instant

prepare for a hug

kisses you on the forehead and doesn’t pry for an answer if you’re not wanting to talk about it

totally lets you fall asleep in his arms when you’re done crying/talking/quietly grieving

Lance

many hugs and kisses

affirmations of his love for you and how incredible you are

him being inwardly sad that he can’t wave a magic wand and make you feel better

will do his best to encourage you (and it almost always works - he’s a good cheerleader)

and tries to see things from your perspective...always wanting you to be the focus, not him. He wants you to know he’s listening to you (awww he cares)

will crack a joke and end up making you laugh long enough that the wave of sadness has passed

Hunk

casually slips you a plate of delicious food

looks pointedly at you until you eat it or you talk to him (most likely both)

if you need someone to hold your hand, kiss your tears away, or hold you, Hunk has got you covered

always asks if there’s anything he can do for you (and he’ll do whatever will help you, no questions asked)

totally the guy that gently asks the team to give you space or help you out when necessary

he will give you the best freaking advice

Shiro

how can someone be so gentle? Simply hearing his voice will calm you

offers his hand, will place a hand on your shoulder, or brush back strands of hair behind your ear (as long as you’re comfortable with it)

brings you food, drinks, or little gifts

he is a very wise person who’s been through a tremendous amount of turmoil so he will let you know things will get better

tells you stories to distract you and make you smile

worries about you but never oversteps his boundaries

Allura

instantly recognizes that something is off about you

she’ll quickly finish up whatever she was doing at the moment and then rush to your side

she’ll obviously want to fix things in a split second for you but knows she can’t so she’s content to sit and talk with you instead

similarly to Shiro, she likes to tell you stories that’ll make you smile, or at least lift your spirits a little bit

if she’s out on a mission, she’ll check in on you fairly often just to make sure you’re hanging in there

and when she comes back, she’ll always be there to cuddle with you, humming softly so hopefully, you can sleep and wake up a little happier

Pidge

honestly? She’s kinda unsure what to do

she might distance herself just a little bit at first, though this isn’t intended in an apathetic manner (but it comes off that way)

finally she’ll come to her senses and sit down with you

she’ll offer up a video game or awful joke that will actually make you feel better

she’s definitely blunt and opinionated, but she will also display her more patient and understanding side around you

lets you flop onto her lap and just chill until you feel more at ease

english breakfast tea ☕️ (would they want a family?)

Keith

it’s actually not something he’s thought very much of

he wasn’t sure he’d have a future where that could happen

however, he does have a fairly strong paternal instinct

when he’s fallen in love with you though, the thought of starting a family crosses his mind often

he’d want a child at some point, but not until you were ready to take that step

when you talk about it with him, it’s clear to even the blindest eye that he longs for a family

and when he becomes a father, he does his absolute best for his kid (and for you) every single day

Lance

ohh does this boy want a family

he wants 3-4 kids, maybe even 5

he thinks about starting a family with you a lot so when it comes up in discussion, he jumps on the chance to make it a reality

obviously he won’t force you to do anything you don’t want but he’d be stoked if you wanted kids

large families are very ordinary to him and he loves the adventures and experiences it brings

so when he becomes a dad, he feels nothing but endless joy and love for the tiny life he holds in his arms and for you

Hunk

like Lance, this boy grew up in a large, loving household; and he definitely wants to start a family of his own one day

when you come into the picture, that desire only strengthens

he daydreams about it and eventually confides in you about his want for a large family

he is beyond ecstatic if you reciprocate those desires

how could he not want to have mini yous running around? You’re literally perfect!

becoming a parent is easily one of the most special moments he’s ever experienced; and he couldn’t be more grateful to share that with you

Shiro

to the surprise of no one, Shiro is the kind of guy that sees himself doting over his adorable children in the future

and he loves kids. absolutely adores them

he thinks about having a family with you a lot; and wants it really badly but never pressures you into anything (because he’s a good boi)

when it’s decided that you two will start a family, he is overjoyed (like sobs wracking his body kind of overjoyed)

needless to say, Shiro is a phenomenal dad and partner to you throughout it all

dad Shiro is best Shiro (fite me)

Pidge

not really the mom type

rarely thinks about having kids of her own

but if you want kids, she won’t immediately turn the idea down

it’ll take time for her to warm up to the idea

if she doesn’t, she’ll still spend the rest of her days by your side, loving you endlessly

if she does, she’ll be quite the doting but carefree mother

it’s a surprise even to her but she wouldn’t have it any other way

Allura

while she’s not bad with kids, she’s not overly fond of their constant neediness and vulnerability

it’s all very overwhelming to her

the thought crosses her mind every once in a while but she shrugs it off

if you want kids, she’ll consider it

if you don’t, that’s cool too

and no one could deny that if/when Allura becomes a mother, she will be excellent at it

she’s more maternal than she gives herself credit for

- mod Aoi 🌺

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the-desolated-quill · 5 years

Text

Watchmaker - Watchmen blog

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. if you haven’t read this comic yet, you may want to before reading this review)

‘Groundbreaking’ is often a term associated with Watchmen, and rightly so. Its writing, composition and complex themes helped redefine what a comic book could be and allowed the medium to breakthrough into the mainstream and be treated as legitimate literature. But if I were to pinpoint an exact moment when Watchmen went from being a great comic to a groundbreaking one, it would be this very issue. Chapter 4: Watchmaker.

Doctor Manhattan looks at a photograph of himself and his ex girlfriend Jenny Slater before discarding it and constructing a glass palace for himself out of the Martian sands. Whilst this is happening, we get flashbacks explaining Manhattan’s origins. Doesn’t sound like much, but what makes this issue so groundbreaking is how it plays around with the idea of non-linear time and uses the unique structure of comic book panels to express that. Honestly it’s so good, you don’t even need to have read the issues before to get it. It’s a perfect standalone issue that explores a superhuman slowly losing his humanity.

A big theme of this issue in particular, as well as Watchmen as a whole, is that of predeterminism. The idea that free will is an illusion and that the future cannot be changed. Manhattan posits that because of certain actions and events, the present moment was always inevitable. The minute his father threw the cogs of his watch out of the window and forced him to drop his career as a watchmaker in favour of being a physicist, his path was laid out for him. This is illustrated beautifully by Dave Gibbons, using recurring images like the falling cogs and meteorites to draw thematic parallels between events in the life of Jon Osterman. While a lot of the reasons for this issue’s success I think is down to Gibbon’s artwork and composition, Alan Moore deserves praise as well for Manhattan’s narration. Watchmaker is ostensibly one big internal monologue, and even though Manhattan seems to deliver this in a deadpan manner, it’s extremely emotionally charged as we discover just how he came to be.

The story of Jon Osterman’s transformation into Doctor Manhattan is nothing short of tragic. For a superhuman that can control atomic forces, it’s ironic that he had absolutely no control over his life whatsoever. He wanted to be a watchmaker until his father forced him to become a physicist after hearing about the atomic bomb. His superpowers were the result of an accident that was beyond his control. He never wanted to be a superhero, but felt obliged to when the US government came a-calling. He’s heavily implied to be liberal, as demonstrated by his friendly and light-hearted interactions with President Kennedy compared to his interactions with Nixon, and yet it’s because of Manhattan’s intervention in Vietnam that Nixon was able to run for a third term as President. Even his relationship with Janey Slater wasn’t entirely his choice. They were visiting a funfair and a photographer referred to them as a couple, planting the idea in their heads. If that hadn’t happened, things could very well have turned out differently. Maybe her watch wouldn’t have been broken, he wouldn’t have offered to fix it, which meant he would never have stumbled into the intrinsic field generator in the first place. Jon has been at the mercy of the effects of causation his entire life, which speaks to his current apathy. Yes it’s partly because of the fact that he’s now operating on a different plain of reality to us, being able to experience time all at once and seeing everything around him by their atomic structures, but it’s also in some ways because he feels bitter about how his life has never really been his own. He’s existed solely for the needs of others. The most powerful man in the world is also paradoxically powerless to control his own fate. Even his knowledge of the future contributes to this because if it has been predetermined that Kennedy will be assassinated, then how can Manhattan interfere?

Over the course of his origins, we see him turn from being a nice, well meaning man, to an emotionless deity who couldn’t care less about morality or the lives of the people around him. This is illustrated through his clothes. At the beginning, we see Manhattan in a full superhero costume, but as the story goes on, we see more and more bare flesh showing until we get to the present where Manhattan is now starkers. Clothes are a human invention and Manhattan sees no need for them. He feels no shame or embarrassment because he is essentially a God. It’s a great visual way of demonstrating his loss of humanity. By the end of the issue, it’s hard to really fault the guy for his lack of empathy. Even when you know his emigration to Mars could in fact spell doom for America, I was still on Manhattan’s side for the most part. His move to Mars is probably the only proactive thing he’s done in his entire life. The only action he’s had any kind of control over.

In the extra material for Watchmaker, we get a report written by Jon’s friend Wally Weaver that explores the implications of Manhattan’s existence. One key phrase stands out for me and it’s this:

“I never said ‘The superman exists and he’s American.’ What I said was ‘God exists and he’s American.’“

This relates to what I’ve been saying about how Manhattan’s very existence has altered the global balance of power. They have the powers of a God on their side. The Vietcong even ask to surrender to Manhattan in person, bowing to him as though he were a God. The world is practically at the mercy of the United States. But Weaver also raises an interesting point. That the use of Manhattan as a deterrent to stop Russia from developing more nukes is misguided. Rather than roll over and accept America’s dominance, Russia would instead be spurred on by Manhattan’s existence to attack America in an act of mutually assured destruction. What have they got to lose? Russia may be destroyed, but so will America. Not even Doctor Manhattan can stop all the nukes. He may be a superman, but he’s still a man.

Which brings me to arguably the scariest thing about Doctor Manhattan. While he may have the powers and omniscience of a God, he’s still first and foremost a man. A deeply flawed man. He leaves Janey to be with Laurie for the simple reason that Laurie is younger and more attractive. Manhattan may be ageless, but Janey isn’t. Would a God break the heart of an older woman so he could have his wicked way with a teenage girl? No, but Manhattan would.

There’s also a great scene between him and Hollis Mason as they discuss what Hollis will do now that he’s retired. Hollis says he’s going to become a car mechanic, at which point Manhattan drops the bombshell that due to his powers, motor cars will now be obsolete, replaced with electric cars powered by lithium batteries that Manhattan can produce at will. Would a God make such a drastic change to an entire industry without considering the impact it would have on millions of people’s jobs? No, but Manhattan would.

Even Manhattan’s current image as America’s Strongest Man is in some ways down to Jon’s vanity. When he reconstructs his body after the accident, instead of creating something akin to what he was before, he appears as this giant, muscular hunk with a massive dick and a fantastic arse (I should know. I’ve been scrutinising it intently. LOL). He has all the powers of a God, but not the responsibility or the morality that goes with it. He’s a cautionary tale of what happens when a normal person is granted unimaginable power without considering the implications.

This review took me longer to write than I intended, and I apologise for that. I still don’t think I’ve covered everything, but I hope you can appreciate the complexities and intricacies of Watchmaker regardless. This is a phenomenally good comic and I think is the prime reason why Watchmen is as groundbreaking as it is.

#watchmaker #watchmen #alan moore #dave gibbons #dc comics #review #spoilers

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three-houses-text-files · 5 years

Text

manuela/seteth

c-a support + paired ending

*warning: contains character spoilers

Seteth: Manuela. A moment? Manuela: Oh, hello, Seteth. M: I must apologize, but I am quite busy. Perhaps we could talk another time? S: I have already confirmed that you have no urgent business. I would like to hear your explanation now. M: My explanation? For what? S: Allow me to be more specific. Where were you, and what were you doing, last night? M: Oh, my dear Seteth. You must relax that worried brow. Those forehead creases will ruin your beauty. S: Just answer the question, please. M: What question is that? The one you already know the answer to? M: Last night, I had a bit of fun, and a bit of drink. Less of one and more of the other, sure. But... S: How much you drink is not my concern. S: But you are an adult who is tasked with the supervision of children. You should not be causing trouble for the students. S: It is unacceptable for you to expose them to your disgraceful behavior. Even more so to impose upon them the labor of cleaning up your mess. M: Oh, don't oversell it. All they did was walk with me back to my room. S: From what I hear, you had to be carried. M: I'd like to think I'd remember that. If it happened— and it probably didn't—it's not as if I'm heavy. Nobody hurt themselves. Did they? M: Come on, Seteth! Loosen up. M: If you're so worried about how I'll behave, why don't you join me for a drink sometime? M: I mean, I only get in trouble when I drink alone... S: If it will help to improve your behavior, I would not object to accompanying you from now on. M: Well, that sounds just delicious. What are you doing tonight around— S: But first, I will lecture you on all of the intricacies of proper behavior in the supervision of children. And until I am done, you will not drink a drop of alcohol. S: If you agree to those conditions, I will join you. I will even drink with you. Alcohol has little effect on me. M: That is just... You know, getting lectured by you is, well, I think the word is "torture." Yes. That's it. Torture. And I won't have it. M: I'm going to go get a drink and try to forget this ever happened. S: How is it that you imagine yourself the tortured one?

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b (i?)

M: … S: It seems I am not the only one here. Manuela? M: Oh! Seteth. Hello. S: This is quite the surprise. I would not expect to find you here outside of ordinary prayer time. M: Praying? No, no. I was just...resting. Whenever I'm in the infirmary, I simply cannot get out of doing work. I need a place to sit and close my eyes. S: There is no need to hide it. It is obvious you were praying quite solemnly just now. M: No, I was— Oh, I was just enjoying some old memories. That's all. M: In fact, I was just thinking about when my parents first brought me here as a child. M: I wandered off from my parents because I heard a beautiful voice. It was a woman. Singing. Somewhere just out of sight. M: I began to sing along, hoping she would hear me and that we might meet. I never found her, whoever she was. Yet it was she who taught me I could sing. S: Interesting. I had never heard that. But I suppose, if you were only a child, this would be before I arrived at Garreg Mach. S: In any case, if that singing voice helped you find your way, then that is a wonderful thing. M: I’ve never told anyone else, but I believe it was the goddess I heard. And that day, she gifted me my singing voice. M: And I thank the goddess for leading me back here after I left the opera company. S: You know, when you speak of the goddess in this way, it is as though you are an entirely different person. S: If you were to behave that way more in your daily life, I would have a much higher opinion of you. M: That’s very sweet coming from you, Seteth. M: Should I take that to mean that you like your ladies pious and respectable? S: One little compliment and you completely lose control of yourself. What am I to do with you? M: Oh, it's a joke. Look, I'm just no good at serious conversations. M: Although I would be lying if I said I wasn't interested in knowing what kind of woman does get your attention. S: As thanks for the touching tale you have shared, I will satisfy your curiosity just this once. S: My preferred woman is kind, quiet, and proper. But above all else, she is straightforward and honest. M: Quiet? Proper?! There's no need to be cruel, Seteth!

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b (ii?)

S: ... M: Seteth? S: Hello, Manuela. Is something the matter? S: You surprised me, is all. Though not as surprised as you, when you found me here before. M: I've never seen you offering up prayers so solemnly. S: I suppose I do typically make an effort to come here when no one else is around. S: Many look to me for guidance. I do not wish to disturb anyone's prayers with my own. S: But I did not come here only to pray. M: Really? Then what were you doing? S: I was swearing an oath to Saint Cethleann. S: She is a special figure to me. It's become part of my routine to swear this oath before her likeness. S: More than any other, she wishes for a peaceful world. I believe it is my duty to grant her wish. (pre-skip) S: She is a very special figure to me. That is why I swear my oaths to her likeness. S: She wished, more than any other, for a peaceful world. I will grant her that wish, at any cost. (post-skip) M: I had no idea you held such a passionate secret devotion, Seteth. M: The legends of Saint Cethleann do depict her as a kind, proper, and honorable woman... M: And she was so gentle and quiet. Really kept to herself. It's no wonder you're infatuated with her. S: I t-think you may have misunderstood me. M: It must be very lonely to be so in love with someone from the distant past. S: She is very special to me, yes. But not in that way. M: You don't have to hide it from me, Seteth. I can keep a secret. M: But people from the past are gone. No matter how much you care for her, she can't love you back. M: Now then, if you turned your eyes to me...I could respond to your deepest, most powerful feelings. S: You are completely mistaken!

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S: Manuela. About what we discussed earlier...with regard to Saint Cethleann. S: I feel the need to correct your misapprehensions. M: Oh, I won't expose your passion to the light of day. I told you I can keep a secret. S: That's not it at all! How can I make you see... S: I suppose there is no other way. Allow me to tell you a very old story. M: What kind of story? Is it about your past? Because there's a story I could enjoy hearing. S: I once had a wife. She passed from this world, a very long time ago. M: … S: She was wise, kind of heart, and always smiling. A most wonderful woman. S: Not long after we married, we were blessed with a child. A girl. M: You had a wife and a daughter? Why would you have kept that secret? S: To protect my daughter. S: That has been my foremost concern, ever since I had the misfortune to lose my wife. S: It is my daughter who resembles Saint Cethleann. That is why I make my oath to this statue. M: Hmm… Your story doesn't sound right to me. I don't mind saying it. S: Why is that? M: When you talked about your ideal woman before, your description was almost exactly Saint Cethleann. M: Now you're telling me your daughter is a perfect match? S: It is not an exact resemblance. My daughter, for instance, is neither proper nor quiet. S: In any case, even in matters of love, an ideal seldom lives up to reality. That is the way of the world. M: Do it again! Say "the way of the world" with a serious face! M: You’re so stern and proper, but you really can be quite funny. I love a man who can make me laugh. S: My wife used to say the same thing. I never quite understood what was so funny. M: I sound like your late wife? Don't tell me... I actually resemble her, don't I? Mirror image, I bet. S: Absolutely not. Though... No. Unthinkable. M: The way you say it, I suppose I must resemble her a little. Well, isn't that an honor. M: Say, Seteth. Have you ever considered remarrying? You know, just so you're not alone? S: It is not a thought that has ever crossed my mind. I have been too preoccupied with fatherhood. M: It’s been a long time since your wife passed, right? You should start thinking about it. M: There could be someone who finds you handsome. Someone close by. Maybe even right in front of you. S: Whatever you said just now, I didn't quite hear. S: But to remarry—I'd never even considered it an option until you brought it up just now. S: My daughter will not want to remain by my side forever. Perhaps it is time I thought about it. (flayn doesn’t die?) S: I suppose my daughter would not have wished for me to remain alone forever. (flayn dies?) M: I’d be happy to help you mull it over, if you like. How about tonight? We could go out for a drink... S: Are we back to this again? S: Oh, very well. Just see that you do not drink too much. I would rather not have to carry you home.

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paired ending

After the war, Seteth remained at the monastery to rebuild the church. Several years of hard restorative work later, he received a letter from Manuela. She wrote that she had traveled to a small, war-torn town and opened up a school for children. Reminded of the beauty and compassion in Manuela's heart, Seteth was moved to leave the monastery and join her there. As they worked together to manage the budding institution, the couple fell in love and eventually were married. It is said that their students were overjoyed.

#fire emblem three houses spoilers #fe16 spoilers #fe3h spoilers #manuela x seteth #seteth x manuela

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letscuttothefeeling · 4 years

Text

season three episode two

Before we get into the intricacies of this subpar episode, I want you to close your eyes, inhale, and reflect: is the guy you’re dating your boyfriend, or is he a father figure to you? Think about it. Now let’s cut to the feeling.

I don’t know about you, but seeing a groggy Old Man Ish clumsily lumber around in a backwards hat and a short-sleeved gorilla tee while holding his morning coffee made me immediately sick. And I’m just watching it on TV. Imagine being Madisson and waking up to that. Like, yes, this show is my sole will to live, but even I can’t stomach this. It really can’t get worse. Oh my God. Ish just described Brandon as “agro.” It did get worse.

Thank god Ish is finally off my screen and I’m back to looking at G baby and BG. Appetite restored. Jared’s also there, so I’m unable to entirely recover from the Ish debacle, but I guess this is the best I can hope for. And may I just add that I am absolutely loving this playful “boys” scene? Seeing the guys boolin with their goon squad is bringing the vibes up big time. BG doesn’t even seem upset about Dadisson – in fact, he begins talking about a potential budding romance with Amanda! And just like that, we’re back on track.

Strap in. The scene I’ve been waiting for. Dadisson’s reveal to her actual, biological father. Fade in. Jon, Madisson’s bio dad, is seated outside at a cute restaurant, completely unaware of the bomb that is about to explode in his face. As he looks up and sees his daughter walking over with her former producer, you can see the confusion setting in. Wait, what? Why is my youngest daughter walking in with Ish, the show’s old producer? Isn’t she supposed to be introducing me to her boyfriend? Oh, no . . . I think at that point, Jon must know, but he’s remaining willfully ignorant for as long as possible. And I get that, Jon. I do.

Ish has this special oafish trudge that seriously makes him look like some sort of ogre and I am absolutely living for it. When the lovebirds take their seats, a dark cloud rolls over the Key. Reality sets in. Madisson starts telling her real father about her new Daddy, and my heart is racing. After establishing their respective ages, Jon takes a deep breath and calmly asks the most uncomfortable question your Dad could ever ask you about your boyfriend: “Is he a father figure to you?”

Let’s decompress. This has to be one of the rawest scenes on reality TV, so pour one out for Jon, who at this point was undoubtedly racking his brain trying to recall the exact moment he fucked Madisson up so badly that she now actively chooses to bang 50-year olds. I feel bad for you, Jon. Back to the show.

Madisson is crying, Jon is reeling over his mistakes, and Ish is trying to defend his relationship. As for me, I have one question: could Siesta Key have provided these poor souls with drinks before forcing them to do this on camera?

After that cringey scene, I’m more than happy to watch Amanda and BG have a SPICY meetuppé. Unfortunately, Amanda begins serving me really strange vibes and I’m kind of scared of her. There’s too much licking involved on this date and I’m not interested. Let’s cut to the next scene, where Madisson and Brandon meet to hopefully get closure.

Finally, we get a glimpse of the breakuppé timeline! If you remember correctly, Season 2 ended with us thinking we’d get a glorious Bradisson reunion in Season 3. Alas, we have Dadisson instead. Please don’t misconstrue this as a complaint, because it’s very far from that. I’m just a little confused as to how Dadisson came about, and apparently, so is BG. Madisson explains that after she moved to LA, she no longer felt connected to Brandon. Two months after breaking things off, she began taking to Ish. Brandon isn’t buying it. He’s convinced their relationship has been brewing for some time. Personally, I believe her. She’s never lied and I think Brandon is projecting his own issues onto Madisson. Thoughts?

Lots of tough conversations today – now we’re at Cara’s waiting anxiously for her to drop the news we all knew was coming from the moment she started dating Garrett. That she wants to break up. I think now is as good a time as any to unpack Garrett’s love life. Garrett. Get it together. The whole “hot but stupid” narrative is something the producers are pushing . . . right? You cannot possibly be this idiotic IRL. But love is blinding, I guess. Garrett was cheated on by Kelsey (with Alex), used by Juliette to make someone jealous (Alex), and used by Cara to piss off Kelsey and Juliette (and Alex.) Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me three times, and you can call me Garrett Miller.

Okay, time for Kelsey and Juliette’s housewarming / rosé party! That had to be the whitest sentence I’ve ever written. The party begins and everyone seems to be in good spirits. Side note – I really applaud the film crew for catching everything that they do. They even got a short clip of Garrett having difficulty opening the front door and included it to perpetuate the very true belief that Garrett is actually a failed artificial intelligence robot project gone wrong.

Chloe arrives with a shot ski, but “Con Artist” Robby has to one-up her by bringing a TV. She’s convinced he’s bringing it to make up for how small his dick is. Boys, you heard it here first – don’t even THINK about bringing a TV to a party unless you want everyone to know how small your penis is! Madisson’s not even paying attention to Boring Robby’s embarrassing genital blunder because she’s too busy eyeing Amanda and Brandon. She even has the audacity to whisper, “I just hope he has the best intentions.” Right, because Ish definitely has the best intentions with you. Okay, Madisson.

Notably missing from the soirée is Cara and my new favorite cast member, Victoria. Kelsey obviously vetoed Cara’s invite, so C and V decided to get a romantic relaxing beachside massage instead. Cara begins explaining that she’s only stringing Garrett along because he functions as her safety net. Meanwhile, at the party, Juliette is having to spell this out to simple Garrett. He looks glum. Suddenly, Garrett’s “unhappy hour” t-shirt seems much more fitting.

Chloe and Amanda are in a corner, and shocker, they’re talking shit about Juliette and Robby. Juliette overhears, confronts them, and tensions rise. Chloe and Juliette step outside to discuss it further, and it becomes very apparent to me that Juliette is utterly plastered. Chloe is basically sober. What could go wrong?

Everything! Chloe starts off by asking Juliette what she thinks about their friendship. Obviously, these two have a sordid past, but Juliette is literally too blackout to articulate anything, so Chloe’s immediately won this before it even really begins. Towards the end of the conversation, Juliette starts wagging her finger in Chloe’s face. Chloe slaps it away, so naturally, Juliette retaliates by PUNCHING HER IN THE HEAD. Juliette, I love you, and I’m normally on your side, but this is just not a good lewk. Chloe is straight chilling while Juliette attempts to rip out her extensions. So of course, Chloe looks like the normal one, and Juliette looks like she’s on The Bad Girls Club instead of Siesta Key. Hopefully, she’ll learn a lesson from this, because violence is never the answer!

Unfortunately, Juliette doesn’t learn that lesson! As soon as Amanda steps in to break up the fight, Juliette also tries to hit her. She also can’t understand why Amanda is being so harsh when Amanda was the one who punched Chloe in the face and broke her nose two years ago. Which I feel like is valid! Everyone is screaming, running around and fighting. Genuine chaos. Anarchy. The only person there who is remaining calm is Brandon. He is quite literally the human embodiment of Switzerland. Immediately I’m reminded of that part in Twilight’s third book, Eclipse, when Bella is forced to be the voice of reason and soothe the tensions between vampire Edward and werewolf Jacob. In order to fight the vampire army that Victoria’s newborn lover has created, the vampires and werewolves must put aside their inherent differences and join forces. If not, they could totally ravage Seattle, travel to the quaint town of Forks, and potentially eat Police Chief Charlie Swan!! By becoming a neutral Switzerland, Bella narrowly avoids this horrific fate. Like Bella, Brandon remains neutral in a time of utter disaster. Thanks, Brandon. But more importantly, thank YOU, Stephanie Meyer.

Kelsey swiftly removes everyone from her home and starts looking for Amanda’s lost phone while Boring Robby hugs Juliette and tries to make her feel better about being the worst. And Kelsey standing around in the background after having to forcibly remove all her friends from her property while her roommate makes out with her boyfriend is such a vibe.

After Cara comes to the rescue to pickuppé the stranded party guests, the episode ends. Overall, I was pretty unhappy with this episode, but I feel that it was a necessary step to get us back in the right direction. I just miss Alex. He needs to return from Europe immediately. I’m tired of all of this girl drama and I want Boring Robby to become Interesting Robby. The next episode seems promising – but we’ll have to wait and see.

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deathgodly · 5 years

Text

@horrauer / hey bitch wassup

sometimes it’s a little too easy to get lost in a character and lose sight of who she truly is, grell finds, but she supposes that’s just the mark of a good actress. this butler couldn’t be more of a polar opposite to her true self ------------- she often finds herself consumed in his intricacies. who is this pathetic, anxious little man who would break down over spilled milk ? what motivates him, what makes him tick ? she feels like she needs to give him a life of his own if she wants him to be convincing. perhaps she’s trying too hard.

it is always the spilling of blood that brings her back to reality. never before has she felt more illicit relief than when her she digs her knife into her victims’ throats and TUGS. it is the ending of life that christens her anew : the leather apron. the whitechapel murderer. darling angelina had found the names amusing. it brought grell the realisation that she wishes she had given the butler a name. it doesn’t feel right anymore to have him remain nameless, or to let him use the name she has chosen for herself. because she is not him, and he is not her, and for the sake of her insecurities that she may be pouring too much of herself into him, she should very much like to keep it that way.

perhaps, if she had put much thought into his existence at the time of his creation, she might have named him jack.

SEPTEMBER 30TH, 1888. there’s something dreadfully romantic about the way eddowes’ body lies slumped on the ground. angelina decides to take her kidney along with the womb, and grell does not question her when she sees her put the organ in a little jar. they both have their reasons for doing what they’re doing and grell doesn’t really see much point in discussing them in too much detail. no, that might be considered crude, and she has no time for such vulgarity in front of madam red, such a beautiful woman. ( a beautiful woman, a beautiful death . . . grell is in her element here. )

most of grell’s work is done with a pretty little pocket knife that she’d bought at a marketplace in hackney, cutting and slicing at the corpse’s face with reckless abandon ------------- but the main attraction is the cinematic record ; body punctured with the reaper’s shiny new death scythe. it doesn’t leave a mark, and the record is boring, and overall there’s much less blood involved than grell might have liked, but the kill is satisfying. it’s quick, but it brings her clarity.

the body is found almost immediately after the two leave the scene, she can tell, but they don’t rush themselves in getting back to the phantomhive townhouse. grell can see by the look in red’s eyes that she finds the whole thing exhilarating -------------- her pupils are blown wide with excitement ; the rush of adrenaline. they laugh it off, and part ways as they enter the building. they can’t be seen together.

she lets her mind wander somewhat as she changes her clothes, but her thoughts keep returning to the butler. he’s an interesting fellow : he’s good at his job, but not when people are watching him. if the poor thing could live in a world where people weren’t breathing down his neck, maybe he’d be less anxious. the beginnings of a smirk tug at grell’s lips as she thinks of him.

not everyone has been cruel to him, though. there’s one man that’s piqued grell’s interest : mister gluskin, the tailor. nobody has asked it of him, but he is the only person who has been tolerant of the butler, understanding, even ! she thinks that’s the most interesting thing of all. most are sick of him by now, especially michaelis and his master. even angelina seems to grow weary of him. but, it would seem, not gluskin.

it’s late at night, but she just can’t stop thinking of him. there’s nothing particularly special about him, after all he’s just some human tailor, but she has to wonder about his kindness. and it’s her wondering that makes her wander, dread and anxiety pooling in her gut as she assumes the guise of the poor, unfortunate butler once more.

❝ mister gluskin ? ❞ her voice is quiet as she knocks on his door. perhaps he is asleep, but she is determined to get an answer from him. as an immortal creature who has lived for such a long time, it’s not often that she sees a human that surprises her. red was the first. maybe gluskin will be the second. her voice shakes as she tries again, and she realises she’s trembling. ❝ e - excuse me, mister gluskin ? i’m dreadfully sorry to disturb you, i know it’s late . . . ❞

yes, she’d like to see if his kindness and patience extends to being woken by an anxious wreck at half past two in the morning.

#what the FUCK is this #long post.#◟ ☆ ◝ ⇢ 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒘𝒐. TRULY A BUTLER TO DIE FOR !#horrauer

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shookethbrooketh · 5 years

Text

stars

chapter 5

the next half hour could best be summed up by a compilation of moments with upbeat pop music playing in the background. they were completely comfortable around each other despite having met only a couple hours earlier, changing clothes completely openly in the room. phil even joined in on the fun, both of them modeling phil’s clothes and laughing as they discovered new outfits that phil appeared to be shocked he’d never realized the beauty of before. the entire event was shocking; it was uncommon for men of the time to do anything that could even be considered effeminate, which a fashion show would definitely qualify as, but the two of them were completely willing to entertain such an idea. neither of them even thought a bit of it, although they had a complete understanding of the world around them by that stage in their lives. they both had such a philosophy that fun had no definition, and they had a hell of a time in those clothes.

summary: dan grew up in a normal 1930s london family with his parents and little brother. everything was completely and utterly normal… until the bombs started dropping. When dan was fifteen his father went off to war, and when he was sixteen he and his brother hayden were sent off to a foster family in rural england. he looked up at the stars and couldn’t help but wonder how something that beautiful could exist in such a broken world. just when he thought things would never get better, dan met phil, and he became the shining star of his life. but when phil turned eighteen and went off to war, dan couldn’t help but wonder when, if ever, the stars would twinkle the same way again.

rating: t

genre: angst, fluff, history au, strangers to lovers, teenagers

whole fic warnings: warfare (not descriptive), fire, homophobia, death chapter warnings: n/a

chapter word count: 1.8k total word count: 8.0k

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Dan woke up to a shout from downstairs. “Dan! Hayden! Dinner!”

Dan rubbed his eyes and forced his lanky body off the bed. He made his way out of the room and met Hayden at the top of the stairs. “This house is super cool!” he said, a bit loud for Dan’s sleepy brain.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Dan paused. “Where’s the dining room?”

“Over here,” Hayden said, practically bursting out of his skin from excitement.. Dan followed his brother through a modest living room with a couch, a couple armchairs, a fireplace, and a table with a lamp and a radio. The radio excited Dan; one of his favorite pastimes back in London was sitting in the family room and listening to the radio. Especially in the last few years, it had become an escape from all the issues threatening to attack his happiness. He’d probably get a few different stations in the new location, but that would be half the fun.

He followed Hayden through the kitchen and into a modest dining room, containing a table with six seats. There were a few family photos and old paintings around the room, which Dan gave a glance before he sat down beside his brother.

In strutted a tall boy with red hair, who Dan assumed was Phil. He jumped when he saw Dan and Hayden; apparently he wasn’t expecting them.

“Phil, this is Dan and Hayden,” Margo said, her tone making it increasingly obvious that he had no clue they were coming. “They’re from London.”

“Remember when we discussed taking in evacuees a while ago?” Harold added.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Phil said, his tone neutral. “I’m Phil,” he said, extending a hand to the each of them.

“Dan,” he said, and shook his hand. Phil flashed him a bit of a smile, and Dan returned it. He had eyes that seemed to be a mix of color, full of happiness and life. His eyes told Dan the world was his oyster.

“Hayden!” his brother said, excitedly, viciously grabbing his hand and giving it a shake.

Phil laughed, pulling his hand away. “Nice to meet you both,” he said, taking a seat on the other side of Dan.

Margo got up and walked towards the kitchen, and Dan took a moment to examine the table; there were bread rolls and green beans sitting out, as well as cups and a pitcher of water. Margo returned from the kitchen with a covered platter and set it on the table, opening it to reveal a whole, cooked chicken.

“Oh, Margo, you shouldn’t have!” Dan exclaimed. “That must have cost you so many rations, especially with Christmas just passing, and all.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Margo said, waving her hand. “It’s the least we could do for such a special day. Besides, rations here aren’t nearly as strict as you’re used to in the city.”

“Are you sure?” Dan asked, feeling purely awkward.

“Absolutely.”

And so they ate. Dan still couldn’t help but feel guilty; their Christmas dinner back in London had cost a few days’ worth of rations, and they’d been eating leftovers ever since. Dan hoped rations truly went further in the countryside.

“Are you receiving our rations now?” Dan asked, the issue still plaguing his mind.

“Not yet, but once the government gets your location, we should start receiving them,” Harold said.

“That should be very soon,” Margo chimed in, maternal intuition obviously showing her Dan’s concern.

“Good,” Dan said, satisfied with that answer.

There was silence for a moment before Harold turned to look at Phil. “There’s still an hour of daylight left; you should take Dan out to the pasture and show him around the driver’s seat of the truck.” He then made eye contact with Dan. “If you’re up for it, of course.”

Dan looked back and forth between the two of them, both of whom seemed to be eager for the task. “Absolutely!” Dan exclaimed. He wasn’t quite as excited as his tone made him out to be, but he was a bit excited to get behind the wheel. Dan had never even imagined himself getting his license, but driving did seem like loads of fun, and he couldn’t hit anything in an open field. Besides, it couldn’t hurt to get to know the boy he’d be living with for a while.

As soon as dinner was finished, the boys took off. Dan threw on the jacket he realized was all he had, and he still found it a bit chilly, but he would survive.

“Hop in the passenger seat and I’ll drive us to an open area,” Phil said. Dan did as he said, and they were on their way. Dan watched Phil’s hands as he drove, trying to determine the intricacies of the activity before being thrown into it himself. “Here we are,” Phil said, reaching a plateau in the land. “This is where my father first taught me to drive. You want to switch?”

Dan nodded, and they each jumped out of the truck to switch sides. “So, the accelerator is on the right, and the brake is in the middle. Hit it slowly, or else it’ll jerk like mad.” Phil said. He looked at Dan’s shoes and pajama pants for a moment, then up to his pajama shirt and mismatching jacket. “Are those the only clothes you have?” Dan nodded. “I’ll take you to my room when we get back and see if we can find you any of my clothes to wear. We seem about the same size. I don’t know what we can do for... Hayden?” Phil hesitated before coming up with his name, and Dan nodded to confirm he was right.

“That’s very generous; thank you, Phil.”

“Of course; I couldn’t imagine being in your situation.”

“It’s been a little rough, but I don’t think the reality of it all has hit me yet. I’m just trying to be here for Hayden.”

“I’ve never had a sibling, but I can understand that. If you need anything-any help at all-just let me know.”

Dan smiled, genuinely touched by Phil’s generosity. “Thank you, Phil, truly.” They smiled at each other for a moment. Phil’s multicolored eyes glimmered in the sunset, his red hair fiery and freckles gleaming. Dan couldn’t help but wonder where he’d gotten them; both his parents were typical brunettes. Dan probably looked more like their son than Phil.

“Back to the driving?” Phil asked, breaking the silence.

“Oh, yes of course!” Dan exclaimed, being brought out of a trance he couldn’t explain.

Within minutes, Dan was cruising through the field. He was sure he wouldn’t be so comfortable trying to park, reverse, or even drive on a road, but he sure could put his foot to the accelerator. Time passed quickly, and before they knew it, the sun had gone down over the hill, and the world around them was beginning to darken.

“We should head back,” Phil said. “Park over by that tree, and I’ll drive us back down.” It wasn’t difficult for Dan to discern what tree Phil was referencing; there was only one as far as the eye could see, up on top of a hill. Dan gassed it up to the top, then slammed on the brakes. The truck jerked to a stop, throwing them both nearly out of their seats and then right back in. They both came down laughing.

“You’ll get better at that,” Phil said, opening his door.

After they got back to the house and greeted Margo and Harold, Dan followed Phil to his room, where he immediately took to his closet. Dan took a moment to look around the room; on the dresser were a few family photos, and there were some old soldier toys discarded in the corner. Other than that, the room was excessively bland for someone with such a vibrant personality as Phil.

“We’ve got two options here,” Phil said. “Either we can do this like civilized adults, and you can pick out what you want and either we can share it or you can have it depending on what it is, or we can take advantage of this and have some fun for once.”

Dan raised an eyebrow. “I’m intrigued.”

“We could spend our evening modelling my clothes like we’re going to sell them or 1,000 pounds.”

“Now that’s an idea. Where’s my first outfit?”

The next half hour could best be summed up by a compilation of moments with upbeat pop music playing in the background. They were completely comfortable around each other despite having met only a couple hours earlier, changing clothes completely openly in the room. Phil even joined in on the fun, both of them modeling Phil’s clothes and laughing as they discovered new outfits that Phil appeared to be shocked he’d never realized the beauty of before. The entire event was shocking; it was uncommon for men of the time to do anything that could even be considered effeminate, which a fashion show would definitely qualify as, but the two of them were completely willing to entertain such an idea. Neither of them even thought a bit of it, although they had a complete understanding of the world around them by that stage in their lives. They both had such a philosophy that fun had no definition, and they had a hell of a time in those clothes.

“So you’ll take that pile and we’ll share this one?” Phil asked, looking to Dan for confirmation.

Dan stuck his hand out, and Phil took it. “Sounds like a deal.”

Dan took his pile back to his room and flung himself on his bed. The situation he had found himself in was far better than any he had imagined a mere few hours ago. He had originally been terrified that he’d find himself in a situation with someone else his age, but now that he’d met Phil, he thought he may even be able to find a new friend in the boy. It was comforting, extremely so, to know that he wouldn’t be completely alone in this new place; he could only hope Hayden would find the same.

Although Dan still missed his mother and his home city of London dearly, he felt as if life was finally beginning to look up for him, and that was more encouragement than he could ever have asked for. He looked at the picture of him with his parents and gave a weak smile. Things would get better, gradually, and one day he would come home.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #phic stuff #dong and ping #stars #chapter 5

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diveronarpg · 5 years

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Congratulations, JULIE! You’ve been accepted for the role of CASSIUS. Admin Jen: Cassius is multifaceted in every sense of the term, and it was the main reason why we couldn’t wait to receive an app for him -- there are so many aspects of his character that could be explored, so many layers to peel back and expand upon. And you achieved that so brilliantly, Julie. From the intriguing plots to the wonderful writing sample, everything came together so well to project the vision that you have for Cassius and it’s certainly left us thirsting for more! I’m so so glad that you’ll be bringing him to us and I can’t wait to see him on the dash! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

Out of Character

Alias | Julie (hi, it’s me again!)

Age | 19

Preferred Pronouns | She/her or they/them works fine!

Activity Level | So this semester isn’t going to be as disastrous as I thought it’d be, but I’m still gonna give myself a 5.5 out of 10, with more activity on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays than any other days of the week.

Timezone | MST!

Current/Past RP Accounts | Orion’s blog is here! I think there’s some halfway decent stuff on there.

In Character

Character | Cassius / Cassian Bhatt. I’m fine with keeping Ranveer!

What drew you to this character? | “But when you dare to look a monster in the eye, when you issue that kind of challenge, when you provoke a man who takes pride in evisceration, one gets exactly what they bargain for: destruction.” This line in particular is really what did it for me - I can draw parallels and lines between Orion and Cassian as much as I want, but Cassian really does have something Orion lacks, and that’s ambition on the large and small scale. He’s conniving, clever, and most importantly, rooted in reality. Cassian is a realist; I think he knows what he lacks and what he has and even then where things can go wrong. He does his best to be a few steps ahead, and when all else fails, at least has some sort of back-up plan in mind. He holds the scales of justice - how could he ever want to be anything besides justified? He’s the interesting sort of aloof that has men and women alike flocking to him, which is key to how he measures his success. If they want him, let them come. If not, then let them keep their distance. He knows by now that people are fickle, but he always keeps them close in spite of their grievances and changing plans - they’re important, and he can use them, and that’s what’s truly important.

And what Cassian uses, he eventually destroys. Individual things can only serve their purpose for so long before they don’t have any purpose at all, and being the pragmatic man he is, Cassian’s quick to discard of them before they get any ideas about ascending beyond where they need to be. Cassian knows he needs to rise, that others need to fall, and some need to stay exactly where they are, and that’s something I think he’s been taught to maintain all his life - not by his father, whom he detests, but by his mother, who taught him everything he knew and more that he has yet to discover. What I’d really like to explore is how Cassian got from point A to point B. How do you go from a boy who loses himself in historical nonfiction to a man who is so bitterly cruel it leaves people breathless? Does it make him sad to know he doesn’t quite feel in the capacity others might? I find him really intriguing, and that’s what drew me to him.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

He’s being used in the same way he uses others, at least by Mona, something that has Cassian on edge; he’s unfamiliar with the position that comes with being compromised. He’s not worried, though, and that’s dangerous - he should be worried if he knows any better, but instead of pulling, Cassian pushes. I want to see how this extortion thread unfolds - mostly with how it impacts his relationship with his Captain, with himself, and how the Capulets will see him if they see these photos. Cassian’s technically on a leash, and it might be a long one, but he’s not sure how much give he has left to run ahead, think he’s the one in charge, before it yanks back from the collar.

Marriage is nothing but another tool in his set, and frankly, Cassian doesn’t view Lillian as anything more than that. Sure, she’s a good woman, a respectable woman, had dose her part in acquiescing to the proposal, taking on his name as hers at some point in the future. Her sorrow in being married to a man who, frankly, neither loves nor cares for her isn’t much more than a footnote at the bottom of the page to Cassian. Lillian provides opportunity to make him look all the more golden than he already is. He’ll give her anything she asks for, present it to her wrapped in precious metals and distracting paper, but only because he needs her, and not because he necessarily wants her. A union of necessity is still a union, and I’d love to see the fracturing between Lillian and Cassian, and how that damages Cassian, how long it takes. Not necessarily emotionally, but in terms of his reputation, which is all that matters to him.

Matters of the heart are uncomfortable for Cassian, that’s clear enough. He’s alone, has been alone, and in his mind, will always be alone. He has no issues in isolation, so long as it’s something brought on by his own choices. When love cannot bring happiness, monetary gain and skill will bring pride. Cassian’s a proud man with a black hole for a heart that eats everything it touches without abandon - I’d love to see someone knock him down a peg, either through his work or through emotional investment that he hasn’t really prepared himself for.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yep!

In Depth

In-Character Para Sample:

The first fifteen minutes of dinner are quiet. There’s not much noise beyond shifting in their seats, chewing, the clattering - as little of it as possible - of silverware against intricate-looking plates. Cassian notes that his mother looks exhausted, something not entirely unremarkable, but it’s not something he plans on asking about. He’d learned early on in life that asking Vahina Bhatt about anything she deemed unnecessary was futile. She’d answer with some notion of work, the governance of Verona, how much it grates on her temper and her time, fundraising - that sort of thing. Some off-the-cuff scandal that he might want to look into.

His father, halfway down the table, appears to be chewing not just on food but his words as well. “That Wen girl,” Naadir begins, because of course he would ask about the one topic Cassian has no interest in, “what do you think?”

Cassian gulps down a mouthful of wine in an attempt to both steel himself and delay an answer. He’s not sure what he thinks of her. She’d been relatively meek upon their first meeting, he’d thought, nothing like the diamond in the rough her mothers had made her out to be. But she’d been beautiful. More than beautiful. An effigy of grace, style, composition. She had followed the plans laid out for their first interaction to a T: introduction, dinner, discussion of the future, and a soft goodnight at the door. All in all, it had played out smoothly.

But their personalities don’t mix, and she seems flat. Static. Where Cassian finds himself confrontational, up front, willing to start a conversation on the intricacies and justification of law, social standards, she is reserved, an even line to the set of her mouth. She had smiled, yes, but it hadn’t been genuine. Maybe that’s for the best, Cassian thinks. None of this will be genuine. He has no love for her, she has no love for him, he doesn’t intend on saying anything of the sort. Not even in their vows, for the wedding to come. There will be no declarations of adoration. She’ll look nice with his Versace loafers, he thinks, for dinner parties and galas.

“She’ll be a good wife,” he replies, tone flat. His father hums, unsurprised by the lack of poetry frothing from his son’s mouth. Cassian has never been a romantic, after all, and that’s where their divide has always rested: a crack in the earth, widening from his younger years to where they are now. Vahina watches from the head of the table, glass of cabernet sauvignon in hand, a soft curve to her lips. But she’s looking at Cassian, not her husband, and if he were still a boy, he might as well gleamed with pride.

The ring he’s chosen for her, to announce to the world that she’ll be his, isn’t particularly extravagant. A golden band, with a green diamond atop, surrounded by smaller white cut jewels. It’s flashy - but not too flashy, so as not to imply vanity. He doesn’t say much else on the matter of his newfound fiancee, and his father knows better than to press, so he listens to his mother ask about his new courses at the university, given that it’s a new year. He ponders other things until the meal is done and he’s being nudged towards the door.

The ring is still on his mind as he’s driven home, as he closes the front door behind him, settles in his study for the night to look into the case Cosimo had called him about the other evening: the Bhatts are not a vain bloodline - they are seekers of knowledge, growth. The viridescent tint won’t be for envy, or a mark of ownership, but for nature. An indication of development, he thinks, that she will grow into the person he needs her to be. Isn’t that poetry enough?

Extras: An instrumental playlist, and because it’s a bit corny, but here’s the wedding ring I was looking at for Lillian!

#accepted #accepted: cassius

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human-zim · 6 years

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this is peak Tumblr drama. people demonizing each other after they break up, the source of the breakup not really clear at all, it goes on and on and on as they gain followers to rally against each other.. forced to pick a side, etc

HAREM MEMBER I can NOT believe how wrong you are. You must be new, so let me give you the FULL RUNDOWN OF SKOODGE AND I’S RELATIONSHIP (as much as I can recall, which knowing how great I am is EVERYTHING) under the cut:

- SKOODGE and I used to be best friends. ROOMMATES and PALS. It was so long ago, yet so recent...I’d say somewhere in March or April of this year, if you want go by the Gregorian calendar

- However I LOVED SKOODGE, inexplicably, unreasonably, that fat bastard had my heart. He was annoying! And a loser! But he was MY annoying loser. I would defend his honor with a passion

- I NEVER SAID this. Why would I? I did not WANT it to be true, I did not WANT anyone to know this! I have recently COME AROUND (after a discussion with @hi-im-tak) to this thing called EMOTIONS, however, and apparently I have lots of them. So I am open with this information NOW but not back then

- SKOODGE! That SCOUNDREL! After I had so RESPONSIBLY HELD MY TONGUE, guess what he did? HE SPILLED HIS GUTS OUT, ALL OVER THE CARPET. He just-! CONFESSES-! Sloppily, messily, ill-planned - like he had the right to the comfort of sharing one’s feelings - that HE TOO, HAD FEELINGS FOR ME, ZIM!! And Let me Tell You I Was LIVID. I was ANGRY. My THERAPIST told me that I was EMBARRASSED, TOO, which spurred some of the anger, but BAH!!

- I told that man I told him, I said “fuck you SKOODGE, you scoundrel you, look at what you’ve done” not VERBATIM but something like that. I believe he was sad about it

- all of a sudden EVERYONE WAS UP IN ARMS ABOUT IT!! Keep in mind, this was right after a set of individuals both known and unknown had been coercing me to, “come on ZIM, just tell SKOODGE you love him, you deserve each other, you deserve to be happy”... and right when I was coming around to the idea of it, getting ready, weighing my odds - that BITCH SKOODGE JUMPS IN AND DOES THAT and those SAME PEOPLE were then like “OH, ZIM, you were too harsh-!” “OH, ZIM, you need to apologize!” They were all thinking that I was SO MEAN TO SKOODGE when I rightfully called out his faults...but what they didn’t get was that it was, as the word goes, SWEET of me to say all of those things because I still loved him anyway...He was a loser, and that was just SKOODGE. So What? I didn’t care, But evidently SKOODGE did, and was all “”SAD””” that I said those things and EVERYONE was tellin me to apologize!! AS IF ZIM WOULD EVER!!!

- SKOODGE is resilient THAT IS HIS NATURE. He is not one to BREAK over silly things, and that is why I can say What he Is...he will bounce back. but if he DOES break, he GETS BACK UP AGAIN. And that’s what he did. HE GOT BACK UP ALRIGHT. Somewhere in him he SPURRED this, this, this - INCONSOLABLE CONFIDENCE that would NOT let me speak. He wrangled apologies out of me - everyone did - but I was still slighted, so I gave him the occasional insult myself. But I Apologized. Did He Forgive, Though? Did He?...

- I thought I could hold my own, I am ZIM, after all. I was not going to be controlled by this...I am ZIM and he is SKOODGE, I house him and care for him, he is a FRIEND. But he never relented to me, he never forgave, he never gave me an absolute “It’s Okay, ZIM, I forgive you for saying the accurate things you always say and also my previous ill-planned confession still stands.” No. None of that. And I found myself apologizing more and more. The insults...the apt statements...lost their fire. I was no longer weaving around the apology - no- I was SAYING IT, Up Front, and I was SAYING, UP FRONT, “I love you, SKOODGE.” I did not realize at the time, it was all happening so fast - SKOODGE was no longer giving me the time of day, and I was slipping down a hole. A manhole, a Sewer hole, with the rats. I was growing desperate.

- I asked, sometimes, on here. I asked Why, and my speech implied my troubles. I still got the same old responses - “You just gotta be nicer, ZIM!” “You just got to apologize, have a heart to heart, you’re hurt but he is too.” But I KNOW SKOODGE, if he was not willing to talk he WOULDN’T, and he is so much STRONGER that everyone was pegging him to be. I APOLOGIZED. I WAS NICE. he would humor me, sometimes, FINALLY relieving my mounting stresses, but he was gone before I knew it. And I followed. I followed! ZIM! A follower!

- He had grown SO COLD. I was MISSING my friend SKOODGE, MISSING my love and my roommate, I had had to come to terms with it then - I MISSED him, I LOVED him, and I APOLOGIZED - what else was I supposed to do?! He had become inconsolable. I don’t know what he was doing - RECLAIMING HIS LIFE, AFTER LIVING AS AN UNDERDOG FOR SO LONG? RELISHING IN THE POWER, OF HAVING SOMEONE CRAVE AFTER HIM? But being an underdog- that’s just SKOODGE. Acknowledging the will of others - that’s just SKOODGE. What was the problem? Why did he feel the need to seek this POWER after living as a shamelessly self-loving HELPER for so long? What changed?

- I have spoken with two - TWO - people privately on here about this...guess what they told me? Can you guess? “Just go talk to him ZIM, just talk about it!” but no no NO, couldn’t they see? It wasn’t up to me anymore! SKOODGE had all the power, ZIM had lost it!! SKOODGE had stolen it all from him after ZIM was a fool enough to show him his heart. He had me hanging on to every last word of his. It was never a lot - a word there, greeting here, just so cold, so distant. Wasn’t even AROUND half the time and he never told me where he was going. He shot an arrow at me once. Sure, I had done it to him, but in the name of SCIENCE and after he had consented to my vaguely described weapon trial run. You can shoot arrows at each other and still be friends - we had BOTH suffered worse. But it was how it made me FEEL - yes, FEEL. I was pulling the arrowhead out of my skin, and absolutely LOVING IT. I was LOVING the ATTENTION I was finally getting from him. he had ignored my messages ignored my greetings so this - arrowhead - meant the world to me.

- after the Arrow Incident I REALIZED that I was GONE. I was an EMPTY SHELL. What kind of invaderHuman Person LIKED to get hit with arrows? I had no control over my own home anymore, my own feelings, my own actions. My AUTONOMY - GONE. I was LIVING for this ugly motherfucker who lived in my vents and bred rats!! The ABSURDITY made me want to VOMIT once I finally realized it. But I couldn’t say anything. I COULDN’T. Not only would he just ignore me, but I was afraid of something worse than that. I was afraid that he’d leave.

- I know SKOODGE I know IrkensPeaople Humans and I KNOW how the cycle of power goes, Believe Me. You live it! You bore! And you walk. I was just TERRIFIED of the day SKOODGE realized that he was bored of me - he was staying out of MORBID CURIOSITY ALONE, I could tell, since he seemed to be living so well without me. I DENIED this at first and tried to give myself MORE POWER - I was like, OH, he is in MY HOUSE, he NEEDS me, and OH, he uses MY supplies, he must NEED me, but in reality...it didn’t matter at all. It wasn’t about me, and he didn’t need my stuff. He was just using it all. Cause it was convenient. Cause I was letting him, although I had no say in the matter any more - it was his. he stole it. He stole it all. And it was just a matter of time before he bored of me scrambling after him like a RAT IN THE SEWER, SEARCHING FOR THAT SWEET SWEET SUNLIGHT BY THE MANHOLE IN THE STREET IN WHICH HE ENTERED!! It was just a matter of time before he walked out with his bright pink thigh high platform heels, walked right on out of my life.

- BITCH ANON saved my life on this. After this was all clear to me, I realized that WAIT, I WAS ZIM, I am POWERFUL and ALMIGHTY and I shouldn’t have to live at the heels of those bright pink boots!! I shouldn't be fixin to get stomped on because it was all the attention I could get out of him!! BITCH ANON was the only one who gave me some solid advice at this point: they told me to THROW DOWN WITH SKOODGE and TAKE BACK WHAT WAS MINE. SKOODGE STILL IGNORED ME on this Messaging System but today it all came out..

- What you see today is ME BREAKING AWAY FROM THAT TOXIC BEAST!! He has had me BEGGING FOR BITS AT HIS HEELS for far too long. He is GOLD-DIGGING- HOME-WRECKING- HEART-BREAKING and just downright MANIPULATIVE and I am CURSING him from my home. I have built my HAREM, WITHOUT HIM, which is full of friends who support ME and ONLY ME, and I have appointed my good friend BITCH ANON as TOP BITCH, for they are always there for me, and had been, this whole time.

I am ZIM, AND I BEG AT THE HEELS OF NO MAN!! Especially not bright pink ones!!!

So you See, HAREM MEMBER, there IS a clear source of a break-up and there IS reason to “demonize” SKOODGE...he is a RAT BASTARD who broke my “”heart””” and for that I will never forgive him. It is CRUCIAL that my support system does Not condone that bitch for my own Safety and Well-being, and You, HAREM MEMBER, are no exception...I hope this was informative as to the intricacies of ZIM and why he absolutely will not tolerate SKOODGE-lovers in his HAREM :)

#(((uhhhhhhhh whoops lol got carried away sorry...this is alot i know for a shitpost blog and you dont have to read it all it's kinda long)))#(((thanks for putting up with the drama today yall!!)))#2dmensionz

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