Killers' reactions to a reader who's pants were pulled down while they were on a hook. (Part one).
Michael
He heard you scream a second time a few seconds after hooking you, and he suspiciously turned around to see you struggling to cover your vividly exposed crotch. Ace and Nea giggled loudly just behind some bushes to the right. They must have been the ones who did this.
Whenever you noticed his lingering gaze, Michael didn't like the way you flinched in horror, your body shaking as you cried in embarrassment and fear. Honestly, what a sucky thing to do to someone who was literally about to die.
Since they were here, Michael marched over to the unsuspecting survivors, immediately sliced open Ace's back and reached out for Nea's throat. With Nea dead on the ground and Ace perched on a hook, he went back to you.
You wouldn't look at him as one hand covered your face and the other lay splayed over your crotch, whimpers and cries endlessly filling the atmosphere. You looked miserable.
Sliding his knife in his pocket, Michael bent down, startling you as his bloody hands grabbed the edges of your pants and swiftly pulled them up over your hips. Then he casually stepped back, taking in your gasp and the look of utter shock and gratitude on your face. Hmp...
Michael's smirk was hidden behind his mask as he turned away. Maybe he'd give that last survivor some time to pull you off the hook before ending this trial.
Jeffrey
He was in the midst of chasing Feng when he lost her behind some pillars. Then he heard a loud, defensive shout and raised a brow as he followed the trail that led to the exact spot you were hooked, and...
"Well hot damn," Jeffrey's eyes went wide as he stared down at your exposed crotch. You shrieked in surprise at his presence and quickly reached down to cover yourself, your face flushed and body trembling in humiliation.
Smirking with a chuckle, Jeffrey took a few steps forward and shamelessly continued to look at you, "So was you survivors being naughty little things, or are you just tryin' to show off?"
As you painfully turned your flustered face as far off to the side as you possibly could, whimpering in a mixture of fear and embarrassment, Jeffrey heard laughter and turned to see Feng and Meg high-five each other in victory before sprinting away.
"Aw hell," Jeffrey chuckled, amused by the whole charade as he moved forward and reached down to yank your pants up. "Ain't nothin' worth gettin' all embarrassed about."
Grinning once he was done, Jeffrey looked right into your flustered, shocked eyes, his voice becoming a seductive whisper as he lifted sir-cuts-a-lot and languidly licked the dull edge, "Anyone ever tell ya I'm good at usin' my mouth?"
As you bashfully keened in embarrassment, Jeffrey patted your head and took off, eager to see if the survivors would conjure another pants prank.
Herman
Using his static blast, Herman had expected that you would have been pulled from the hook by the time he returned to capture your friends, but... Apparently not.
Whenever Herman arrived on scene, there were no other survivors to be found, but you... You were in a struggle- your limbs thrashing around and your mouth hung open in a panic as you fought to pull up your pants and underwear, and when you finally noticed him, you screamed in terror.
Unlatching his mouth straps, Herman set his bat down and walked up to you, "How did this happen?"
You were sobbing into one of your hands while covering your privates with the other, "D-David."
Good grief. Herman sighed, dissatisfied by this display of disrespect and ill mannerism. You were a mess too, crying and shaking and trying to hide yourself from him, vulnerable, humiliated and exposed. "Do I have your permission 'to'?" He kept his glowing eyes on yours, mindlessly gesturing to your nether regions.
"Please..." You sputter, desperately trying to hide yourself away.
"Hold still," Herman stepped up to you and reached down to carefully pull your pants up, even going so far as to refasten the button, "There."
"Thank you," You whimpered gratefully, roughly wiping at your messy eyes and face.
"Here," Herman pulled out a folded handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to you, "My apologies for the blood."
And then he took his leave, off to get you revenge on David.
Bubba
There are survivors he does and doesn't enjoy hooking. You're one of the ones he doesn't enjoy hooking, and when he goes back to check if you're okay after unleashing an alarming scream, he ends up squealing in disbelief and horror.
Your pants were down thus flashing him with your delicate privates. Ahhhhhhh! He practically wailed, embarrassed, ashamed and utterly perplexed. Why were your pants down? Why? He covered his face, calming only when he heard your frantic cries-
"I'm sorry! I-I'm sorry. They pulled my pants down. I'm sorry. I just wanna die..."
At the sound of your confession, Bubba sprinted off and easily caught Meg, forcing her back to the hook and dropping her in front of you. Whilst keeping his eyes averted, he squealed and chirped loudly while gesturing from her to you, making frantic 'pull-up' motions with his hands.
"A-are you serious? You want 'me' to pull up their stupid-"
Bubba squealed, lifting his hammer in warning. Meg flinched and quickly went to roughly yank your pants up, cursing at you under her breath. After she pulled you off the hook, Bubba smashed her upside the head with his hammer and then rushed over to you.
Brisk and gently he patted your shaking shoulders, trying to reassure you and see if you were okay. "Th-thank you," You nodded, and he smiled in relief, hugging you fast and then going to hook the traitor.
Frank
He was circling back whenever he thought he heard footsteps, caught off guard by the sounds of laughter and frantic protests. As he went inside the building, he flinched and covered his eyes at the sight of your exposed crotch.
"Jesus, what the hell?" He snapped aggressively, "Why the fuck are your pants down?"
In the background, Frank heard maniacal laugher and searched around to find Kate and Élodie making lewd gestures above the stairs, obviously mocking you and him both. Those obnoxious mother-mmm...
At the sight of his clenching fists, the two pranksters fled leaving Frank stewing in a pit of anger and embarrassment. You weren't faring much better by the sound of your terrified whimpers and humiliated cries. Dammit...
"Uh... I-um..." Frank rubbed his neck while awkwardly approaching you, his gaze averted, "If you let me, I'll uh... Look, just give me your stupid permission and I'll pull your pants up, alright?"
"Ok," Came your ghostly whisper.
Taking in a deep breath, Frank was grateful that his mask covered his heated face as he shyly stopped in front of you, unable to keep from checking you out as he grabbed your pants and swiftly pulled them up to your hips. "Those sorry bitches are gonna pay..." He swore.
Stepping back, he was overwhelmed by your brutal sniffles and anxious sobs, and couldn't help himself when he said, "Quit crying. I'm gonna get them back, alright?"
And then he turned and rushed away before the urge to comfort you more shined through, or the growing warmth in his own pants... Stupid fucking survivors...
Caleb
He saw it happen from a distance. Nea walked right up to you, tore your pants down and laughed directly in your face as you struggled and cried to cover yourself. What disrespectful nonsense.
As the prankster ran away at his approach, Caleb stopped by your hook and lingered in place, his brows raised as he took in your stance. "Gotta admit... Them vultures put on a helluva damn show," He snickered, "Can't say I ain't impressed."
You keened in embarrassment, looking up at him and then flinching as you fought to keep your crotch covered and face averted. He chuckled at your obvious shyness and slowly walked forward, saying teasingly, "Ya know, we could make a trade off. Ya show me yirs, an' I'll show ya mine."
As you made adorable little noises of horror, shock and bashfullness, Caleb chuckled and lowered his gun, "I'm jus' messin' with ya, sugar. Now, ya want me to do the honors here?"
Taking in your fast nods, Caleb took his time bending down, whistling loudly as he grabbed your pants and slowly pulled them back up. You were hiding behind your hands, looking absolutely adorable.
"Gotta say, sugar," He mumbled beside your ear, "I wouldn't mind seein' another show like this again."
As you whined in shy embarrassment, Caleb chuckled fondly and took off.
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the thing is that they're so fascinated by sex, they love sex, they can't imagine a world without sex - they need sex to sell things, they need sex to be part of their personality, they need sex to prove their power - but they hate sex. they are disgusted by it.
sex is the only thing that holds their attention, and it is also the thing that can never be discussed directly.
you can't tell a child the normal names for parts of their body, that's sexual in nature, because the body isn't a body, it's a vessel of sex. it doesn't matter that it's been proven in studies (over and over) that kids need to know the names of their genitals; that they internalize sexual shame at a very young age and know it's 'dirty' to have a body; that it overwhelmingly protects children for them to have the correct words to communicate with. what matters is that they're sexual organs. what matters is that it freaks them out to think about kids having body parts - which only exist in the context of sex.
it's gross to talk about a period or how to check for cancer in a testicle or breast. that is nasty, illicit. there will be no pain meds for harsh medical procedures, just because they feature a cervix.
but they will put out an ad of you scantily-clad. you will sell their cars for them, because you have abs, a body. you will drip sex. you will ooze it, like a goo. like you were put on this planet to secrete wealth into their open palms.
they will hit you with that same palm. it will be disgusting that you like leather or leashes, but they will put their movie characters in leather and latex. it will be wrong of you to want sexual freedom, but they will mark their success in the number of people they bed.
they will crow that it's inappropriate for children so there will be no lessons on how to properly apply a condom, even to teens. it's teaching them the wrong things. no lessons on the diversity of sexual organ growth, none on how to obtain consent properly, none on how to recognize when you feel unsafe in your body. if you are a teenager, you have probably already been sexualized at some point in your life. you will have seen someone also-your-age who is splashed across a tv screen or a magazine or married to someone three times your age. you will watch people pull their hair into pigtails so they look like you. so that they can be sexy because of youth. one of the most common pornography searches involves newly-18 young women. girls. the words "barely legal," a hiss of glass sand over your skin.
barely legal. there are bills in place that will not allow people to feel safe in their own bodies. there are people working so hard to punish any person for having sex in a way that isn't god-fearing and submissive. heteronormative. the sex has to be at their feet, on your knees, your eyes wet. when was the first time you saw another person crying in pornography and thought - okay but for real. she looks super unhappy. later, when you are unhappy, you will close your eyes and ignore the feeling and act the role you have been taught to keep playing. they will punish the sex workers, remove the places they can practice their trade safely. they will then make casual jokes about how they sexually harass their nanny.
and they love sex but they hate that you're having sex. you need to have their ornamental, perfunctory, dispassionate sex. so you can't kiss your girlfriend in the bible belt because it is gross to have sex with someone of the same gender. so you can't get your tubes tied in new england because you might change your mind. so you can't admit you were sexually assaulted because real men don't get hurt, you should be grateful. you cannot handle your own body, you cannot handle the risks involved, let other people decide that for you. you aren't ready yet.
but they need you to have sex because you need to have kids. at 15, you are old enough to parent. you are not old enough to hear the word fuck too many times on television.
they are horrified by sex and they never stop talking about it, thinking about it, making everything unnecessarily preverted. the saying - a thief thinks everyone steals. they stand up at their podiums and they look out at the crowd and they sign a bill into place that makes sexwork even more unsafe and they stand up and smile and sign a bill that makes gender-affirming care illegal and they get up and they shrug their shoulders and write don't say gay and they get up, and they make the world about sex, but this horrible, plastic vision of it that they have. this wretched, emotionless thing that holds so much weight it's staggering. they put their whole spine behind it and they push and they say it's normal!
this horrible world they live in. disgusted and also obsessed.
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ok sure i'll talk about farleigh start. i'll talk about his tragedy of never being enough as it were and then having to deal with fucking oliver. sure. disclaimer: it's about class (and race) and the horrible reality of the rich. the horrible reality of living as farleigh.
another disclaimer: i'm white! and poc definitely pick up on everything i'm talking about here as it is, and better. i was and am specifically interested in farleigh vs. oliver but it's impossible to examine without considering race. definitely let me know if anything abt this sucks!
farleigh and oliver are similar. it's annoying because every intruder that is not himself is annoying, partly because felix's attention swaying from farleigh is dangerous; there is always a threat of being discarded, even if no precedent existed. the potential is terrifying.
but you'd think he's seen this before, every summer (if venetia is telling the truth) or at least often enough to learn to recognize it fast, so he should know this will pass. part of it is i think still the deep anxiety, and i think he hated every boy that was there before, and it is sort of routine.
but definitely a huge factor in farleigh's annoyance is the fact that he's a biracial (black for cattons, that's all they see) man in a white rich household. he's alert and exhausted all the time. of course he's angry at oliver, regardless of whether he's the first to crash at saltburn for the summer or the fifty-first.
but the important thing is this.
farleigh is very jealous of and angry and pissed at oliver because farleigh sees all the similarities between them. outsider, in financial trouble, whatever it is, in need of cattons; and yet oliver is preferred. and farleigh seems to be the only one to really consider it. felix does not pick up on the hint when farleigh brings up the birthday party vs. his mother. felix's clumsy "different or... anything like that" is as much about race as it is about class, of course. the "we've done all that we can" bit is felix absolving himself of guilt because surely they had, surely the mysterious collective cattons that he's not really part of had tried all they could do. to him, farleigh is different from oliver, because farleigh has been helped. felix is rich and white and twofold uncomfortable with farleigh, even if he's nice about it, even if he genuinely enjoys his company; he doesn't look too close at farleigh because he feels too guilty to come too close. and farleigh can't do anything about it. he can't nice himself into it. the fucking tragedy of him is that he's never enough in the world of the ultra-rich white, even if (especially because!) he's born into it.
farleigh is very pissed at oliver because farleigh also sees all the differences between them. you know who can be nice poor white enough to fit in? fucking oliver. felix says "just be yourself, they'll love you" when oliver first moves in. farleigh was also probably told the same thing, and felix also probably believed that farleigh could just be himself, but even if the cattons were magically not racist at all (impossible), it wouldn't make a difference to farleigh. he would still self-censor, keep in check, be in dangerous waters (because racism is not just about the individual, but about the system). we see that he'd won himself leeway by years of trial and error by the way he speaks to the family, but it's still within the boundaries of acceptable, built by the cattons. he's part of them because they allow it, and farleigh is very, very aware.
the annoying thing is oliver can be himself. like, truly, genuinely, he can just be. and farleigh can't help but envy that.
as a side note, oliver is obviously jealous of farleigh in the beginning as well, because regardless of the reality of farleigh's situation, he was born into it, and hence, at least in oliver's mind, has his position solidified. oliver's whole thing is unquenchable thirst and hunger for whatever and everything the cattons have (including themselves!). he wishes to have been a catton from birth. to oliver, at first, there's nothing farleigh can really do to lose it. and until he figures out the cattons completely, he can't help but envy that.
but i think farleigh senses something different about oliver early on. at least on the level of the text, we have "you're almost passing [for] a real, human boy", which is so important because farleigh is the first to point out oliver's weirdness. the next to do so is venetia in the bath scene calling him a freak, but it's too late. farleigh is too early.
and i like to think he clocks oliver too early because he sees the jagged edges that he recognizes in himself. i think that one other thing that farleigh envies is oliver's freedom to let go. freedom to let go is very similar to freedom to be, but not quite the same.
to be is about perception: farleigh knows he cannot fall out of line, but would like to, and oliver does not have to worry about it at all (i mean, he does, because oliver also performs for felix, but farleigh doesn't know that).
to let go is about the self: farleigh is too scared to even want what oliver eventually does, to even consider the possibility. oliver can let himself want. oliver can let himself act. oliver just can do things and want things. i'm not sure farleigh can.
and so in this scene, when oliver's wants and actions have landed him nowhere with farleigh, felix, venetia, the cattons, of course farleigh gloats. he can let himself do that, because if the cattons are slowly discarding him, farleigh can allow himself this one small victory. he's relieved because despite the dangerous similarities, oliver is, thankfully, not really the same as farleigh, right?
but like. this movie is a love letter to all things gothic. oliver is a white man. he prevails. the brief performance that oliver put on did eventually end up more effective than farleigh's lifetime of constraint. my heart fucking breaks for him to be honest.
the issue that remains is the fact of farleigh's survival. i like to think that oliver came to respect him. oliver is smart, but farleigh is clever. he picks up on everything oliver does (to refer back to the karaoke scene, farleigh immediately retaliates in the cleverest way, in the moment), and he's the only one to do so consistently (venetia, again, for example, comes close, but too late; oliver doesn't like that, there's nothing to work with). hence, stay with me for a little longer, the paradox: farleigh survives because he was never enough for the cattons, but he is very worthy of oliver's attention. in his own freaky way, oliver wants him. look at that.
so. farleigh. farleigh might come back. he always comes back. and i think oliver wants to try harder next time.
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Okay so something about the spiderbit wedding has been sitting in the back of my mind for awhile now and I don't know if anyone's talked about it but I just recently figured out the words to articulate it (kind of) so here we go!
Prior to the q!spiderbit wedding, a lot of the fanart/fanfics I saw/read depicted Cellbit waiting at the altar while Roier is walked down the aisle by either Foolish or Vegetta. Which makes sense! It keeps with the idea of the father "giving away" the bride (or in this case, the groom) at the wedding, which wouldn't be possible for Cellbit since he doesn't have any parental figures on the island. So, I was a little surprised when the wedding day came and Cellbit was the one to walk down the aisle while Roier waited at the altar. I was a bit disappointed at first---they missed a chance to do a sweet little spin on a wedding tradition! (Found family* my beloved <3)
But then I kept thinking---something about Cellbit walking down the aisle. Something about Cellbit walking down the aisle. Something about Cellbit walking down the aisle to the altar where Roier, his soon-to-be husband and trusted confidant, stands; where Felps, his best friend whom he just got back from an unknown fate, stands; where Forever, the friend he wronged but never lost faith in and wants to do right by going forward, stands.
Something about Cellbit being alone and walking himself down the aisle towards them like he is making an active choice. After the fear and the isolation, pushing others away and hurting those close to him so he could make himself a martyr because he felt like he had to face the Federation alone and that he could only rely on himself---now choosing to walk towards the altar where they stand---walking towards his happy ending.
Because this is his happy ending. I'm not at all an advocate for the idea of "oh romance/marriage is the only thing that will make you happy in life" but not only is being married to Roier something Cellbit desperately wants, this wedding means so much more than just getting married.
Of course, this isn't really the end, but for someone like Cellbit, it's a start. A new beginning. A brand new chapter of love, friendship, and trust. So yes, Cellbit walks down the aisle at his wedding, and he does it alone, and he does it because he deserves it, and he does it because he wants to, and he does it because he has to, and he does it because he needs this.
*I would just like to note that found family does not have to follow a nuclear formula with parent-child roles and I don't wish to propagate this misconception. That's just how Roier's family is structured in canon. Foolish and Vegetta are boyfriends and Roier calls them (or at least Foolish) "dad" that's just how it is and it is beautiful <3
Also apologies if I get any lore wrong. I'm not a Roier or Cellbit main viewer but I learn a lot through what I do watch of their streams and what I absorb through my dash. Hopefully this still makes sense.
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