Cbs cutting the majority of kitty’s parts in happy death day makes me feel 🙃🙃🙃

Dream SMP Recap (April 12/2021) - 72 Hours

Quackity takes a trip down memory lane, recounting the events that led up to his visit to the prison.

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VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Tommy

HBomb94

Foolish

Quackity

Badboyhalo

Karl Jacobs

Ranboo

Eret

Captain Puffy

---

- Ponk’s room in Niki’s city is decorated with posters of anime, his favorite people, pictures of Ponk and Sam next to each other, and his Enderman named Speed Wagon

- He wants to get a poster from both Foolish and HBomb

- Ponk waits at the Community House and Foolish boats in.

- Foolish notices Ponk’s stump, not knowing what it is at first. Ponk tells him that “Sam happened,” and Foolish replies that Ponk needs to get Sam out of his head. Ponk then tells him that he’s been taken into a communist cult, and that he’s missing an arm, and it oozes red stuff. Foolish freaks out.

- Ponk remarks that Foolish has a good sense of style, and he would like to commission something. He leads Foolish to the city. Foolish asks about his arm again, and Ponk says he’ll tell Foolish about it in time.

- Foolish says at least Ponk seems to be in good spirits. Ponk says that it’s because of the medication that Niki gave him. The salmon in his roof produces a drug that makes him happy.

- They mess around with the posters in Ponk’s room some. Ponk mentions that Sam took his arm, and Foolish is shocked. Ponk’s said too much. He wishes Foolish luck and says he’ll pay him well later before leaving Foolish to the room.

- Foolish says he knew Ponk and Sam were on rocky terms, but it’s a bit much of Sam to take Ponk’s arm...

- He puts a picture of himself in the shark outfit on Ponk’s wall and leaves to continue working.

---

LAS NEVADAS: EPISODE TWO

---

Two shadowy hooded figures ride on horseback across the wilderness. 

There’s a third who rides a skeleton horse. 

They approach Eret’s castle from the direction of Antfrost’s animal sanctuary. As they ride down the Prime Path, sirens can be heard in the background.

---

There is a montage of Quackity going to the prison each day, rain or shine. The waivers are shown, and Quackity’s name is signed.

On screen, the day numbers are shown as Dream runs around the cell, punching the air.

It starts from 2. At day 16, Dream is in the respawn pool as Quackity approaches. The numbers go up to 29.

-

72 Hours before The Visit

-

- Quackity rows to a remote island, where he meets Awesamdude. Sam is confused at how Quackity knew about this place.

- Sam has been busy farming in a small patch of land to get away from things. He started not long ago.

- There’s a gravestone with a disc and a jukebox dedicated to Tommy.

- Quackity tells Sam that Tommy’s death wasn’t his fault. Sam disagrees, saying it was his responsibility.

- Sam shows Quackity his beach full of turtles and his horse

- Quackity tells Sam that he’s a very caring person. Sam shows Quackity his house. 

- Quackity then tells Sam that he’s not the only one who thinks Tommy’s death wasn’t his fault, but Dream’s. To accept that is the only way to move on.

Sam: “I could’ve done something, Quackity. I could’ve...I don’t know. I could’ve done something.”

Quackity: “No, you know what you could’ve done? You could’ve gone back into that jail cell and put a sword right through his neck. That’s what you could’ve done, Sam. That’s what you could’ve done to Dream. Because guess what, Sam? this isn’t the first time he does it, and this isn’t the last time either. Sam, look at me...the only way he’s gonna stop this is if you get rid of him, Sam. That is the only way.”

- Quackity says they should do it right now. They go back into the house and Sam activates a secret door with a potato, leading down into a basement full of weapons and armor. They head out in boats as Quackity encourages Sam to do it.

Quackity: “Feel that fury in your fucking heart, Sam, and know that’s all because of Dream. Let’s go. Let’s go, Sam. It’s all because of Dream.”

Sam: “You’re right! I couldn’t do anything! Dream would’ve killed him anyways if I had gone in there, there’s nothing I could’ve done!”

Sam: “I can just kill him! I can just murder him! He can’t get away, he’s stuck in there, he has nothing! He’s so weak! This is the perfect chance! I can just murder -- no one would even need to know that he died! I can just say he was still locked up there, I could -- yes -- you’re right, and if I kill him no one will die! I don’t want any visitors already!” 

Quackity: “Exactly! No visitors! No visitors, Sam! No visitors, no one’s allowed to see Dream ever again, it’s a secret between you and me, Sam...we’re not gonna tell anyone. As far as we’re aware, Dream is in that prison, and no one’s allowed to visit him ever again because he committed that crime against Tommy. Guess what? no one’s even gonna wanna see him, Sam, nobody! Because he killed Tommy, and everyone’s scared of him. But guess what? You and me, we’re not gonna be scared, Sam, because we know Dream is going to be fucking gone.”

Sam: “‘Cause he’s stuck in that cell anyway! There’s nothing he can do! We could kill him, and when he’s a ghost, I could go in and kill him again! And kill him again! And kill him again! And kill him again! And I can kill him a thousand times for the one death he gave Tommy!”

“Do you wanna come with me? You wanna help me do it? You can hold him down, and I'll chop his head off! We can kill him just like that, and there’s nothing he can do! Yes! He can just cry, and scream, and he’ll die -- I wonder if he’ll laugh now!”

- They reach the prison entrance and enter the portal. Quackity tells Sam that this is all for Tommy, and it’ll make him feel better.

- Before they can go through the defenses, though, Sam hesitates and starts having doubts.

Sam: “Quackity, we can’t kill him! That’s the whole reason we put him in here to begin with! Tommy trusted me to keep Dream in here! And now Tommy’s -- Tommy’s dead, I can’t do this to Tommy! Tommy trusted me, and he might’ve died, but that doesn’t mean we can let this happen! No, no! Tommy would want us to keep him locked up! The whole reason we locked him up was -- if someone else dies, Dream’s the only one who can do anything about it!”

“I can’t ruin what I promised to Tommy more than once.”

- Quackity says this is his chance at redemption, but Sam insists they can’t kill him. Quackity stops and then says he’s sorry he got ahead of himself. Quackity goes to leave, but then hesitates and goes back to Sam one last time.

- One way or another, someone will have to do it. If not Sam, Quackity. He reminds Sam that Tommy’s death wasn’t his fault.

Quackity: “Sam, before I leave...you gotta get it together. Las Nevadas will have no place for emotions, or for any personal ideas that you may have, or feelings, Sam. If you’re gonna be my business partner, you gotta do more than this. Understand?”

“I’ll talk to you soon, Sam.”

- Quackity leaves.

-

48 hours before The Visit.

-

- Quackity is speaking with someone. He thanks someone for giving him the spot, telling them that they can’t tell anyone about it. 

- Quackity is near Fundy’s house. He digs straight down into the ground, landing in an underground area made of nether brick. It’s an extensive series of hallways. Quackity has a bunch of TNT.

- He finds the Egg Room and starts putting TNT around the Egg.

- He notices Bad and Punz approach and backs into the area behind, brandishing a redstone torch. Bad warns him not to do it.

- Quackity tells Bad that he doesn’t need the Egg, he knows that there’s still a part of Bad that isn’t doing this, and that they can work together.

- Bad replies that if Quackity gets in the way of his mission, he won’t have anything. 

- Rat starts barking. Quackity says he’s doing this for Bad.

Punz: “Bad, don’t let this guy manipulate you.”

- Quackity shouts that he’s going to light it up and places more.

Quackity: “We’re all gonna go. I’m doing this for your own, Bad! I’m doing this for your own good!”

Bad: “You’re doing this for yourself, Quackity! I need this! I need the Egg!”

- Quackity gets Bad to order Punz away and keeps negotiating with Bad. He tells Bad that before the Egg, Bad was one of his closest friends, and in order for them to do great things together, Bad has to let go of the Egg.

Quackity sets off the TNT. The explosions go off, and the Egg turns to obsidian.

---

On one heart, someone slowly makes their way through the burning remains of the nether brick area, holding a single redstone torch as the Egg whispers. 

HOW DARE YOU TRY AND TAKE THIS ONE FROM ME.

YOU WILL SUFFER FOR THIS.

HOW DARE YOU TRY AND TAKE THIS ONE FROM ME.

They stumble down the hall and the screen goes black.

-

24 hours before The Visit.

-

Quackity rides Boner down the Pogtopia highway.

He pauses at Tommy’s summer home, looking at the prison, and rides down.

- He notices George standing at the entrance, looking towards the portal. The two have a happy reunion. Quackity asks him why he’s here -- George says he’s just chilling.

- Quackity hasn’t seen George in ages. George is surprised by the scar on Quackity’s eye.

- He shows George Boner, who he has renamed to Ossium.

- He asks what George has been up to. It’s been ages since he’s seen George, Karl or Sapnap.

- Quackity tells George that he’s taken a break from El Rapids and has been working on a new project called Las Nevadas, a country full of casinos. An entertainment haven. He wants to set up a meeting with George, Karl and Sapnap about getting them all casinos.

- George asks, what about Kinoko Kingdom? Quackity doesn’t know what that is. George tells him, and says that Karl said he told Quackity about it.

- Quackity wasn’t told anything about this. He asks how long ago. It’s been a while.

- Quackity thought they had El Rapids going. It’s been hard to get in contact with them. George says he can still join.

Quackity: “I was working on this project, and I wanted to p-- no, no no, you’re...that makes sense. That explains so many things.”

- George tells him the direction that Kinoko is in. Quackity asks if they aren’t a part of El Rapids anymore. George says he supposes they can’t be in two countries at once.

- Quackity asks George not to tell anything to anybody about Las Nevadas. It will open soon, but he wants all the details to remain between them. As far as George knows, it’s just a country with entertainment.

- He says goodbye and leaves, telling George to say hi to Karl and Sapnap for him.

---

There’s a shot of Eret’s tower.

The Socializing Club and Purpled’s Walmart.

The old remodeled Community House.

The cobblestone version of Tommy’s house with the spruce trees around his land.

Skeppy’s original blackstone house with the three-door entrance.

Ze Haus.

The Spawn trap.

The camera pans up to a view of L’manburg, with blackstone walls, and the rebuilt Camarvan made of dirt.

The Elton John House and Space Program within the walls.

King’s Court.

It’s the Election Debate, Quackity and George arguing with Wilbur and Tommy.

---

- Quackity is out on a walk with Wilbur. He wants to know more about Wilbur. He asks why Wilbur has done the things he does.

- Wilbur tells him he wants protection for his people. Quackity asks to talk to Wilbur off the books. He wants to talk to Wilbur not as politicians, but people.

Wilbur: “Um, I mean I appreciate it -- No. The election’s in twelve days.”

- Quackity insists, and Wilbur says he’ll try.

- Quackity says he appreciates the Wilbur is trying to protect his people, and he doesn’t aim to overthrow him. 

Quackity: “None of this is about fighting to me. I think there’s just a big difference between you and me, and I like to see the good side on people. I like to think that there’s a side of everyone that is willing to work for wanting to see a better future for everyone, and I think that’s where you and I are very, very different.”

“See, when I got here, when I got to these lands, and I wanted to join L’manburg, I was told I couldn’t. I was told to walk away because I wasn’t allowed to join L’manburg. And to me, that was a lack of belonging. And if I have to become President and tear down some walls in order for no one to ever feel unwelcome again, then so be it. I do believe that everyone has a good side to them, and I do believe that everyone has something to contribute to the nation.”

Wilbur: “Your aspirations of optimism are not going to be subject to my nation’s security, I’m afraid. I -- I completely disagree with everything you said...”

“You say everyone has a good side, Quackity -- and you’re right. You’re right. Everyone has a good side. But that good side is only there to help themselves. If you’re really gonna help people, you’re gonna need power, Quackity. You can make a movement, you can make a resistance, right, you can go out and you can come back, and they’ll give you a ticket-tape parade. They’ll cheer for you in the streets, but you will change nothing. If you have a revolution, everyone will hate you. You will sacrifice everything, and you will lose everything you ever had, but you will come back and everything will be changed. And Quackity, if you wanna change things, you’re gonna need power. That’s what you really want, isn’t it. Look at me..”

“And power isn’t gained from diplomacy, and bureaucracy, and giant courthouses suspended in the sky, blah blah blah -- it’s gained from swords, Quackity. It’s gained from blades. It’s gained from steel. Iron. Even if everyone has this good side that you’re talking about, then anyone who wants to prove it has to show their dark side first. You’re going to have to kill. You’re going to have to torture. You’re going to have to maim. When I look at you, as a fellow outsider...you’re not ready for that.”

“I’m leaving.”

 - There’s a montage: 

Quackity watching as Schlatt destroys the White House the day he left to join Pogtopia.

The Mexican L’manburg Revolution, Quackity facing Dream outside Church Prime.

Dream destroying Mexican L’manburg.

Quackity facing Technoblade in the Final Control Room.

Dream and Quackity outside of Church Prime again.

“I understand that you -- that you wish to cause problems on the SMP, and that’s your number one goal. You are, by far -- you are the biggest enemy on the SMP right now.”

---

Present Day.

---

He’s at Wilbur’s resurrection shrine. There is a chest marked “For Wilbur.”

- Quackity writes in a book.

“My dearest friend, Wilbur...

You were right all along...

And I won’t make the same mistakes twice.”

- He signs the book “PROJECT NEVADAS” and puts it in the chest.

- Quackity rides off on Ossium and dons the black hood as the sirens sound.

---

- Bad sees the sign about concrete that Ranboo left at his house and assumes that it must be some sort of cryptic scavenger hunt. He and Skeppy go to try and figure it out by reading out the other signs throughout the server

- Skeppy eats part of Jonald

- Karl builds a Party Island in Kinoko Kingdom with Pokimane

- Ranboo gets a wither named Logan to mine for him

- Eret works on their fortress

- Captain Puffy does a late night stream and does some mining

---

Upcoming Events:

- The Red Banquet

- The Las Nevadas business opening

- Dream’s lore video

- Ranboo’s lore (April 23)

- Tales From the SMP: “Space Race”

- Dream SMP’s one-year anniversary

the witcher 3: wild hunt starters

including quotes from the dlcs hearts of stone & blood and wine

❝  you were always an unruly child. i adored that about you.  ❞ ❝  mmm. yes. of course. the excuse you resort to when you’d rather not talk about something.  ❞ ❝  how many have you killed? how many more might you still?  ❞ ❝  you know who i am. and why i’m here.  ❞ ❝  you're a madman and always have been. a cruel, cold-blooded killer.  ❞ ❝  a man should frame his wishes carefully. it forestalls disappointment.  ❞ ❝  no argument. you knew what you were signing up for.  ❞ ❝  maybe once, in a different time...i’d have helped.  ❞ ❝  don’t train alone, it only embeds your errors.  ❞ ❝  wanna get drunk off my ass. and it’s gotta be on cheap wine.  ❞ ❝  you’re a heartless bastard.  ❞ ❝  try to trick me anyway, anyhow, you won’t go anywhere, you know that. ‘cause i’ll take your head off right where it meets your neck.  ❞ ❝  sorry. i don’t want to talk about it. not now, at least.  ❞ ❝  we are more like a family.   we support each other and help each other survive tough moments.  ❞ ❝  so how’s it feel to be the village witch?  ❞ ❝  realize, please, that you were made for great things.  ❞ ❝  folks say a curse has fallen on that place, a dark power brought down by the bestiality of the murders it beheld.  ❞ ❝  so, now you’ve threatened me and all...are you in or are you not?  ❞ ❝  i know it must sound foolish, but in the dream - well, it was all too real...  ❞ ❝  we may not survive this. in fact, our chances are slim.  ❞ ❝  it’s always been about you. only you.  ❞ ❝  i remember finding your sense of humor both groan-worthy...and somehow endearing.  ❞ ❝  kings die, realms fall, but magic endures.  ❞ ❝  i detest banquets. vacuous conversation, food portions fit for a mouse, drinks that taste like piss...  ❞ ❝  despite what you’ve heard, i don’t lunge at every monster i see, sword in hand.  ❞ ❝  each day’s more dangerous than the last.  ❞ ❝  it’s folks like you that restore my faith in humankind.  ❞ ❝  my power lies in possessing knowledge, not sharing it.  ❞ ❝  the rotten smell brings back childhood memories.  ❞ ❝  awfully noble of you, showing so much concern for the needy.  ❞ ❝  no need to thank me. always glad to save your ass. you’re welcome.  ❞ ❝  i may be inhumanely beautiful, but i don’t have super human senses.  ❞ ❝  anyone can be made to talk, even a corpse. one must simply know how.  ❞ ❝  we’ve done the hardest part. only got the pleasant bits now.  ❞ ❝  there are few causes worth saving. even fewer men.  ❞ ❝  don’t treat me like a child.  ❞ ❝  there’s strange men lurking outside the house. watching me.  ❞ ❝  you must be careful what you wish for lest your wish be granted.    for there are consequences.  ❞ ❝  shall i be free of the suffering? the sadness?  ❞ ❝  i wish to gaze into those eyes, eyes the devil would be proud to have.  ❞ ❝  you were born with a great gift. and only you can decide how to use it.  ❞ ❝  any other words of wisdom? or can we go?  ❞ ❝  what i need is an ally. and something tells me i shall find none better than you.  ❞ ❝  i can see no row can occur here without your participation.  ❞ ❝  i and what concerns me have not been a concern of yours for some time now.  ❞ ❝  if you’d not arrived in time, things might have ended considerably worse.  ❞ ❝  if they can bleed, they can die.  ❞ ❝  a man must display some madness from time to time --- it helps him feel alive.  ❞ ❝  i was deeply troubled. you’ve no idea.  ❞ ❝  done that so many times, but...it felt like our first kiss to me.  ❞ ❝  don’t need to play tough on me.  ❞ ❝  i've lost too many mates already. i won’t risk it, i can't.  ❞ ❝  there’s just not enough of us. it’ll be a hard fight.  ❞ ❝  in lonely woods, screams carry long.  ❞ ❝  things used to be simpler.    monsters were bad, humans good.   now, everything’s all confused.  ❞ ❝  as for your missteps --- i don't rightly see why i shouldn't laugh if they're amusing..  ❞ ❝  i’ve no gold to offer you in reward...but i shall be ever so grateful.  ❞ ❝  if you’re scared, turn back. i’m gonna go on.  ❞ ❝  if anything happens, i’ll defend you.  ❞ ❝  once you say "i love you," a kiss has to taste differently.  ❞ ❝  maybe we should sit? you look a bit dazed...  ❞ ❝  drink it off, sleep it off, whatever it takes...just get yourself together and think things        through.  ❞ ❝  i shall join later, if it’s no trouble. i don’t yet feel strong enough to venture out.  ❞ ❝  awake at last. you writhed like a squirrel caught in a snare.  ❞ ❝  again you plan without even asking what i think!  ❞ ❝  come to see how i’m feelin'? thanks, not bad.  ❞ ❝  i remember that day quite well...there was a light drizzle, yet the cold tore right through you.  ❞ ❝  you gotta keep your eyes peeled wide open. someone’s taken an interest in your work.  ❞ ❝  oof...for a minute, i actually thought we were doomed.  ❞ ❝  you shouldn’t worry yourself --- it tarnishes your beauty.  ❞ ❝  i’d even embrace you...were you not covered in blood.  ❞ ❝  guess i could’ve been someone worse...just a shame i had no choice.  ❞ ❝  facts interest me. not fairytales.  ❞ ❝  hm, odd smell. blend of alcohol, blood and monster stench.  ❞ ❝  i’m old and i am wealthy. i may say what i please.  ❞ ❝  now, be so kind and leave me to my thoughts.  ❞ ❝  in your shoes i’d pack it up and go hide somewhere far away.  ❞ ❝  forgive me, but that's the blatherin' of someone who clearly can't snap out of it after a tragic loss.  ❞ ❝  that all you gotta say? i saved your life.  ❞ ❝  i swear on all that is holy: we shall be together forever.  ❞ ❝  think of me as part of the decor.  ❞ ❝  anyone who’s bold enough to fight is already a hero.  ❞ ❝  if this is a trap of some sort...  ❞ ❝  you can count on me, you know? always.  ❞ ❝  you don’t know how much it means...to have someone you can rely on in this fucking city.  ❞ ❝  i know you. you have no heart.  ❞ ❝  no room for friendship in this business.  ❞ ❝  evil is evil. lesser, greater, middling, makes no difference. the degree is arbitrary, the definitions blurred.  ❞ ❝  hands off, or i'll cut them off.  ❞ ❝  i’ll need to clear my head first. after those deranged dreams, i feel it’s full of cobwebs.  ❞ ❝  on your way? or will you stay longer? it’s far safer with you around...  ❞ ❝  really sad story, but something’s not right. got a feeling you’re not telling me everything.  ❞ ❝  gotta admit, there’s something about you. you’re...different.  ❞ ❝  with each arrow i shoot, i think of my dad. he’d be proud, i think.  ❞ ❝  i merely know when to indulge my pride, and when to swallow it.  ❞ ❝  you were born to greatness.  ❞ ❝  these’re dark, grim times. no room for knights pure of heart or happily-ever-afters.  ❞ ❝  a life without liquor’s like loving without licking.  ❞ ❝  my certainty i walk the right path grows strong as iron, firm as steel.  ❞ ❝  few make me feel awkward, but in your presence, i feel anxiety, discomfort.  ❞ ❝  some men have got good reason to fear their own shadows.  ❞ ❝  some men cannot admit defeat. some keep fighting from beyond the grave.  ❞ ❝  stare into their eyes, feast on their terror. then go in for the kill.  ❞ ❝  forget not that you are a person right and honorable, devoted to doing good.  ❞ ❝  ash shall fertilize the soil. by spring, the valley shall bloom once more.  ❞ ❝  there’s lots of wraiths here. i hear them whispering every night.  ❞ ❝  no one has the courage to face this threat! yet we must kill them, or sooner or later we will all die.  ❞ ❝  you are a step away from losing your head. speak the truth and you might yet keep it.  ❞ ❝  you carry within you the weight of a terrible tragedy. you are a good person, but lost. which is why you come across as grim.  ❞ ❝  if i understand you correctly, you would rather help a monster than kill it?  ❞ ❝  discouraged after a mere eight attempts?  ❞ ❝  easier to pat someone on the back and hope things will work out than it is to face the truth.  ❞ ❝  know that they can’t teach an old dog new tricks?  ❞ ❝  my, you’ve grown beautiful.  ❞ ❝  my swords a promise --- if i reach for it, heads will roll.  ❞ ❝  one condition: no one dies. that clear?  ❞ ❝  patience happens to be my weakness. so dispense with the dramatic pauses and talk.  ❞ ❝  you proved today you can take care of yourself.  ❞ ❝  you under the delusion you’ll complete your tasks, live happily ever after?  ❞ ❝  i will not sit and twiddle my thumbs. i'm sick of waiting, sick of hiding!  ❞ ❝  glad you know who i am. haven’t introduced yourself, though.  ❞ ❝  i’ve seen a great deal --- cruelty, cynicism, greed.  ❞ ❝  you tempt fate, because at heart you are unhappy.  ❞ ❝  we had our chance, but...let it go.  ❞ ❝  come now, you didn’t expect it to be that easy, did you?  ❞ ❝  promise me one thing --- you’ll stop risking your life for others.  ❞ ❝  instead of dwelling on the future, i’d rather live in the moment.  ❞ ❝  i adore love stories. especially the ones that end happily ever after.  ❞ ❝  we are drops of rain that together make a ferocious storm.  ❞ ❝  the path to freedom is paved in blood, not ink.  ❞ ❝  we’ll get our happy ending. one day.  ❞ ❝  i’ll never forget what you did for me...and what we had together.  ❞ ❝  don’t meddle in other people’s lives.  ❞ ❝  i don’t get attached to places. just people.  ❞ ❝  it’s dangerous, there are risks involved. understand that, don’t you?  ❞ ❝  and here i hoped someone would finally take pity on me.  ❞ ❝  seen a lot of dead in my time, but that must’ve been hard.  ❞ ❝  air is strange...like dropping into a deep cellar on a hot day...  ❞ ❝  wouldn’t carry a sword if i didn’t know how to use it.  ❞ ❝  take it you didn't summon me to reminisce about the good old days, so...  ❞ ❝  i was attacked --- had to defend myself.  ❞ ❝  guards have never stopped me, you know that.  ❞ ❝  treating the ill and wounded...it’s my calling.  ❞ ❝  you think it’s enchanted?  ❞ ❝  there are times when a woman should simply not explain her decision.  ❞ ❝  won’t find too many comforts, but try to feel at home.  ❞ ❝  i was looking for you...sometimes i thought you were just a step away. other times, i felt like i was going around in circles.  ❞ ❝  i’ll remember you. always with a smile.  ❞ ❝  i’d rather you not make anymore trouble --- for yourself, or us both.  ❞ ❝  got the stench of corpes on you.  ❞ ❝  you stood to gain --- that is why you saved me.  ❞ ❝  sages invariably have hidden agendas. altruism is simply not part of their constitution.  ❞ ❝  the gods have abandoned us. the mighty of this earth care not for our fate.  ❞ ❝  is that admiration i hear in your voice?  ❞ ❝  i started off heading in the opposite direction, but then turned around.  ❞ ❝  i’m fed up. i won’t have others deciding for me behind my back.  ❞ ❝  where’d you get this idea? what’s gotten into you?  ❞ ❝  i don't expect you to commit now. think it over, what you've heard, what you feel.  ❞ ❝  head torn clear off...takes incredible strength.  ❞ ❝  desperate fathers have been known to do a lot to find their daughters.  ❞ ❝  you cannot kill me. you know this...  ❞ ❝  "i give you my heart”? what kind of spell is that?  ❞ ❝  i’d go anywhere with you.  ❞ ❝  why? because i am a woman? in a frock, rather than plate? i can take care of myself, i assure you.  ❞ ❝  everything we discussed here, hope you’ll keep it to yourself. counting on it, in fact.  ❞ ❝  trusted you once. won’t make that mistake again.  ❞ ❝  shut up. i’ve heard enough of your bullshit. draw your weapon, let’s get this over with.  ❞ ❝  exaggerating for effect, right?  ❞ ❝  well, well...when cornered, you can bite.  ❞ ❝  you cannot win...even if you kill me.  ❞ ❝  you know i’m good at accomplishing the impossible.  ❞ ❝  it’s nothing, really. you’d have done the same for me.  ❞ ❝  you are not ready. you do not control your powers.  ❞ ❝  you’re a tool in their hands, even if you don’t see it.  ❞ ❝  i’d do anything for you, i would. you know that well.  ❞ ❝  this is a land where the fantastic is normal, and the impossible occurs daily...  ❞ ❝  know when a legend becomes a prophecy? when it gain believers.  ❞ ❝  i thought you’d become a stranger to me. that i’d look at you and not feel a thing. but it’s not like that at all. nothing’s changed.  ❞ ❝  to be honest, i just wanted to go on a walk with you.  ❞ ❝  what i really want is to be with you, to...to be together and...  ❞ ❝  this is not the kind of offer one refuses.  ❞ ❝  despair devours you like maggots devour a corpse.  ❞ ❝  before long every soul will kneel before you.  ❞ ❝  i run into dilemmas all the time. situations where it's hard to judge, hard to know what's right, make a decision. this is not one of them. you disgust me. and deserve to die.  ❞ ❝  you know me. i’m rare to praise, but when i do, it’s sincere.  ❞ ❝  i'm not a thug for hire.  ❞ ❝  i like being on adventures, sleeping under the stars, waking up with dew on my face.  ❞ ❝  the dream's within reach now. i’m not about to let it go.  ❞ ❝  unlike you, killing gives me no pleasure.  ❞ ❝  can't speak for the world you inhabit, but in mine, nothing is ever black and white.  ❞ ❝  you cannot possibly imagine how much i detest this place.  ❞ ❝  stones you’ve got. but i didn’t think you’d have the stomach for a massacre.  ❞ ❝  the dead man --- looked like a monster attacked him recently.  ❞ ❝  finish all your business before you die. bid loved ones farewell. write your will. apologize to those you’ve wronged. otherwise, you’ll never truly leave this world.  ❞ ❝  i've had nothing but nightmares lately. pretty horrible.  ❞ ❝  i was wandering through the forest, breathing deep the air, and then i heard a strange sound, unsettling.  ❞ ❝  had a few nice dreams. for example, in one we sat around a fire, drinking good wine, and all around people danced and laughed.  ❞ ❝  they’re all dead! mountains of corpses. yet here i stand alone. all alone.  ❞ ❝  this isn’t a game. men have died.  ❞ ❝  if you wanna listen, listen, if not --- i'd rather you spared me your wit and throw me out now.  ❞ ❝  you fed me, cared for me, had my wounds looked after. we're even now.  ❞ ❝  you’ll return, you shall. our fates are bound.  ❞ ❝  i’ve nothing left. not a fucking thing.  ❞ ❝  i don’t question your abilities. i simply don’t trust you.  ❞ ❝  what foolish things men sometimes do.  ❞ ❝  dare harm me, and against you will rise all the powers of nature.  ❞ ❝  did you destroy the evil powers? have you brought peace to my domain?  ❞ ❝  well, perhaps i shall tell you about it one day. one day, but not today..  ❞ ❝  times like these, you never know what tomorrow will bring.  ❞ ❝  you worry too much. what will be, will be.  ❞ ❝  have you gone completely mad? we must leave here at once!  ❞ ❝  time eats away at memories, distorts them. sometimes we only remember the good... sometimes only the bad.  ❞ ❝  you don’t need magic to strip men of their humanity. i’ve seen plenty of examples.  ❞ ❝  if i’m to choose between one evil and another, i’d rather not choose at all.  ❞ ❝  see what i’ve got on my back? wolves fear it. kings do, too.  ❞ ❝  i missed those awkward compliments of yours.  ❞ ❝  sometimes i think it’s all too lovely to be true…that something’s bound to happen, another war or some other horror.  ❞ ❝  took you a while. did you run into trouble?  ❞ ❝  i just travel a lot. and i don't always happen upon such good and civil company.  ❞ ❝  what can you know about saving the world, silly?  ❞ ❝  done my share of fighting. wouldn't carry a sword if i didn't know to use it.  ❞ ❝  all right, perhaps i wasn’t completely honest.  ❞ ❝  ever thought this day would come? me and you...peace and quiet...bees buzzing, birds chirping.  ❞ ❝  i detect a shadow of impatience in your face.  ❞ ❝  took me a long time to find you. wasn't an easy road to travel.  ❞ ❝  wipe that frown off your face, or i might think you don’t like me anymore.  ❞ ❝  always believed attack was the best defense.  ❞ ❝  once it’s all over, if we survive ... i wish to leave, go far away.   and i’d like you to come with me.  ❞ ❝  naturally, you suspect me of the worst. i don’t deserve that.  ❞ ❝  we can fight another time, in another place, where the walls have no ears.  ❞ ❝  once i was free...i shall be free once more.  ❞ ❝  believe me...a tavern, mulled wine, our boots drying by the fire --- i’d like nothing better.  ❞ ❝  prove it. kiss me.  ❞ ❝  the prophecies do not lie...you cannot survive this struggle.  ❞ ❝  i know you better than you think.  ❞ ❝  you know me. nothing i like more than breaking rules.  ❞ ❝  what’s happened? it’s so quiet, all of a sudden.  ❞ ❝  thank you, for coming with me.  ❞ ❝  i cannot do everything for you. use your head.  ❞ ❝  i'm angry and tired. had to kill a lot of people along the way.  ❞ ❝  we’ve come a long way, and i’d be damned if we’ve come to fail.  ❞ ❝  i sense your pain. i see your fear.  ❞ ❝  how’s this for an answer: kiss my ass.  ❞ ❝  how many have you already killed? how many more might you still?  ❞ ❝  i'm quite alive and extraordinarily well. better than i've ever been in this rotten life of mine.  ❞ ❝  i like it when you smile. come here. everything will be all right.  ❞ ❝  ugh. don’t fall in love with me.  ❞ ❝  i don’t like you. in fact, i feel like slapping you.  ❞ ❝  i'm too old to play the blushing bride...unless you ask nicely.  ❞ ❝  that bit of my life --- forgotten it already.  ❞ ❝  the world doesn’t need a hero. it needs a professional.  ❞ ❝  next time you wonder why i’m so bitter...well, there's your answer.  ❞ ❝  nothing wrong with having a drink in good company.  ❞ ❝  i want you behind those rocks. and keep your mouth shut.  ❞ ❝  nice of you to worry...but i've made my decision, and i won't change it.  ❞ ❝  this is my story, not yours. you must let me finish telling it.  ❞ ❝  after all that toil, i believe we deserve a bit of a rest.  ❞ ❝  i was afraid you were dead.  ❞ ❝  we’ve all some stain on our conscience.  ❞ ❝  leaving the castle walls means certain death.  ❞ ❝  right good jest. had us a laugh. now fuck off.  ❞ ❝  i’ve heard about you. you bring trouble, or thus far have, always.  ❞ ❝  ah, you’ve struck a raw nerve.    memories of a time long past to which i’d rather not return now.  ❞ ❝  we meet again. and it seems you need my help. again.  ❞ ❝  got a relative i can talk to? someone - how do i say this - a smidgen less irritating?  ❞ ❝  miss the target, you owe me fifty push-ups. hit it, you owe me twenty.  ❞ ❝  oh. serious talk coming.  ❞ ❝  i feel like one more lie'd be the last bitter drop in a chalice full of sorrow.  ❞ ❝  romantic? thought we came here as friends.  ❞ ❝  you’re hiding something. and that’s one thing i can’t stand.  ❞ ❝  tell me, how do you do it? always manage to pull yourself together, focus, no matter what’s happening?  ❞ ❝  i go wherever i please, whenever i please.  ❞ ❝  uh oh. i know that look.  ❞ ❝  sounds tempting. so tempting i don’t think i can refuse.  ❞ ❝  so, what do you say to a moonlight ride on horseback...and dinner?  ❞ ❝  perhaps...perhaps you’d stay just a bit longer?  ❞ ❝  how are you feeling? sleep well?  ❞ ❝  such a gloomy subject to broach...  simply shouldn’t have.  ❞

❝  such a gloomy subject to broach...i simply shouldn’t have --- not during our romantic dinner.  ❞ ❝  got it. a bit of blackmail --- just your style.  ❞ ❝  it’s the crack of dawn. where do you wanna go?  ❞ ❝  shut up before you wake someone. last thing we need is a crowd.  ❞ ❝  watch what you say. the trees have ears.  ❞ ❝  no bow at hand, no spear. my sword was all i had.  ❞ ❝  never expected you’d take such an interest in my private life.  ❞ ❝  i’m special. always was the rare beauty.  ❞ ❝  damn. been ages since we last saw each other.  ❞ ❝  some charming orchards nearby. in bloom, even, so you almost can't smell the corpses.  ❞ ❝  you know me. nothing i like more than breaking rules.  ❞ ❝  man spends his whole life learning.  ❞ ❝  if only i was as skilled with my words as i am with my blade.  ❞ ❝  i wished to know what was going on in that head of yours. i thought perhaps i could help.  ❞ ❝  i can tell something’s bothering you.  ❞ ❝  dangerous times. each thinks five times before sticking their neck out.   and i can’t blame them.  ❞ ❝  now i care not in the slightest how you think or feel.  ❞ ❝  i no longer know if i still hate you.  ❞ ❝  i see how you look at me, and i see you wither.  ❞ ❝  one last bit of advice --- find a new tavern. everyone here knows you.  ❞ ❝  you won. no point bothering with ‘what ifs’.  ❞ ❝  it’s time i took fate into my own hands. lived life anew...and truly, this time.  ❞ ❝  ahh, 'cause you thought you'd killed me that time. surprise, sur-fucking-prise.  ❞ ❝  who...who’s that? gods, i’m hallucinating.  ❞ ❝  it’s no exaggeration to say i’ve never met a warrior like you in my life. you’re lithe as an eel and strong as a bear.  ❞ ❝  i’ve a heart again, yet all it feels is grief, sadness and defeat. my life is a ruin.  ❞ ❝  sought only to protect myself. in doing so, i put you in harm’s way. forgive me.  ❞ ❝  there’s a charming grove nearby where  kisses  taste  sweeter than anywhere else in the world.  ❞ ❝  you’ve handled tougher situations. you’ll figure this one out.  ❞ ❝  who you are and why you’ve come matter little. for you’ll not leave this place alive.  ❞ ❝  i’m not panicking. just trying to be realistic.  ❞ ❝  hahahahaha...i can’t believe you fell for that!  ❞ ❝  i was actually going to recite an anthem praising your glory, but if you’re not in the mood...  ❞ ❝  lying didn’t always come so easily to you.  ❞ ❝  everyone wants to rule. i can do that better than any monarch.  ❞ ❝  tell me what you want already, and make it quick.  ❞ ❝  what a mess we made of it all...if i’d only known then how it would end...  ❞ ❝  seems a faded dream now, but there were a time where i was happy.  ❞ ❝  why’d you leave me? you claimed you loved me.  ❞ ❝  never liked boats. not one bit.  ❞ ❝  you must be mad. i’ve no intention to make things easier for you.  ❞ ❝  i don’t wish to look at your face any longer than i must.  ❞ ❝  please, no. i can’t stand spells.  ❞ ❝  we agreed not to keep any secrets from one another. we promised.  ❞ ❝  that i like! a man who boldly dares, damn the risks!  ❞ ❝  i thought you bowed before no man.  ❞ ❝  smile a bit wider. ...you were meant to smile, not bare your teeth.  ❞ ❝  is that blood? have you hurt yourself?  ❞ ❝  no reason to trouble the guards. i’ll go willingly.  ❞ ❝  look at me. promise you’ll stay out of it.  ❞ ❝  the minute we’re in trouble, you make me responsible for getting us out.  ❞ ❝  they say they don’t fear the wrath of the gods. and you, do you fear it?  ❞ ❝  i’ll let that pass. i know grief eats at your heart.  ❞ ❝  we all lie sometimes. but lying to yourself is running away, whereas there’s really nowhere to run.  ❞ ❝  don’t need your sympathy, just your help.  ❞ ❝  your loss -- it must hurt, bad. but there wasn't anything we could do.  ❞ ❝  i wish to leave, go far away. and i’d like you to come with me.  ❞ ❝  i trust you have an explanation for this. a very good one.  ❞ ❝  lot of bitterness in you.  ❞ ❝  i assure you, you’re excellent at covering your tracks --- though not terribly subtle. but i’m even better at uncovering them.  ❞ ❝  glad to see you happy...but i don’t think what we did was right.  ❞ ❝  i look at you, and...and feel like i am exactly where i am supposed to be. at long last.  ❞ ❝  i’m no coward. i'll not run this time.  ❞ ❝  yes, i know you’ve trained with swords. but you’re still shit with them.  ❞ ❝  how many innocents have you cut down?  ❞ ❝  problem is, you’re not ordinary. you were born to greatness.  ❞ ❝  not too late to surrender.  ❞ ❝  men turn honest when they feel a blade at their throat.  ❞ ❝  i'm not gonna drink. why dull my senses when i’m in such pleasant company?  ❞ ❝  it’s bound to come in handy, and each time it does, you’ll think of me.  ❞ ❝  lie still or you will bleed to death.  ❞ ❝  your life is yours, exclusively. you choose who you are.  ❞ ❝  for a minute there, was almost sure you’d leave me to die.  ❞ ❝  there is never a second opportunity to make a first impression.  ❞ ❝  it’s all because of that secretiveness of yours.  ❞ ❝  plead the gods spare us, for without their favor we shall most certainly perish.  ❞ ❝  i must say -- seen a lot, but nothing like this, never.  ❞ ❝  you don’t look like you can get home on your own. i’ll walk you.  ❞ ❝  all’s in the past, never to be restored.  ❞ ❝  you know full well i never hold a grudge. i forgive you.  ❞ ❝  the good gods sent you to me.  ❞ ❝  and the guilt, the responsibility of all this, lies with me.  ❞ ❝  you’ve only been here five minutes, and you’ve already managed to offend me twice.  ❞ ❝  you will certainly fetch me a higher bounty alive.  ❞ ❝  what's wrong with my beard? always thought it added to my dignity.  ❞ ❝  if i’m to die today, i wish to look smashing for the occasion.  ❞ ❝  i was stupid. stupidity costs a lot.  ❞ ❝  even your humblest requests seem like threats.  ❞ ❝  your motives do not interest me. only results.  ❞ ❝  and you laughed, oh, how sweetly, how brightly you laughed!  ❞ ❝  you don’t know how it is. to see someone you love die. because of you, for you.  ❞ ❝  to have a scapegoat --- that’s the key.  ❞ ❝  no need to fear me.  ❞ ❝  sorry, but -- your life story? just not interested.  ❞ ❝  with you...it was love at first sight.  ❞ ❝  gotta understand. you don’t betray people like me.  ❞ ❝  i struggled long to find a place where i’d feel safe, needed. until i finally arrived here.  ❞ ❝  just don’t faint on me.  ❞ ❝  could never be there for you everyday. but i’m happy to see you always. and today, i’m all yours.  ❞ ❝  what others think...your image...that’s all you care about.  ❞ ❝  in these foul times one must be wary, even of their friends.  ❞ ❝  come on, don’t get angry - it’s not good for you..  ❞ ❝  so, apart from the sword play, you know potions and all that?  ❞ ❝  i actually envy your sense of wonder --- common in children, and morons.  ❞ ❝  a lot of misfortune for a small village.  ❞ ❝  who are you? do you seek to hurt me as well?  ❞ ❝  the hand that feeds can also strike its wayward wards.  ❞ ❝  shh. eat now. we’ll speak once you’ve rested.  ❞ ❝  brother has turned against brother, the land is soaked in blood. evil reigns stronger than ever before.  ❞ ❝  good looking and clever. where’ve you been hiding?  ❞ ❝  doesn’t bother you, having monsters for neighbours?  ❞ ❝  stay here --- no matter what happens.  ❞ ❝  i never told you this, but i’ve always felt it: i love you.  ❞ ❝  listen to me this once -- don't take matters into your own hands.  ❞ ❝  love these moments. the air before a battle -- nothing smells as sweet.  ❞ ❝  they tried to get in through the main gate. i’m afraid they could succeed next time.  ❞ ❝  too many claim you’re evil.  ❞ ❝  why are you so eager to help strangers? sit your ass down or there’ll be misfortune.  ❞ ❝  you'd never have managed without me, would you? come, now, admit it.  ❞ ❝  for those who remain, death should never take precedence over life.  ❞ ❝  thanks for coming. thanks for risking your life for me.  ❞ ❝  don’t force me to speak of it. no more, please.  ❞ ❝  when doubt plagues your mind, follow your instincts. should they steer you wrong and land you in muck, you'll land at peace with yourself. and that's most important.  ❞ ❝   just know that i know you're here. one misstep, one error...you'll make a mistake, it's inevitable...i'll be the first to learn it.  ❞ ❝  i do not know you. i’ve done you no harm.  ❞ ❝  try not to panic...just doesn’t suit you.  ❞ ❝  we’ve come a long way, and i’ll be damned if we’ve come to fail.  ❞ ❝  had i known what would happen here, i'd never have come.  ❞ ❝  i can say i’ve seen it all now.  ❞ ❝  these scars have long yearned for your tender caress.  ❞ ❝  i don’t fall victim to curses. i cast them.  ❞ ❝  come outside. we can hold hands and stare at the sky.  ❞ ❝  we’ll work well together --- i can see that already.  ❞ ❝  from the first moment i set eyes upon you that fateful evening, my heart has only beaten for you.  ❞ ❝  i trust you as much as you trust me --- not at all.  ❞ ❝  you’ve gone all red in the face just for talking about it.  ❞ ❝  wake up. it’s just a dream. wake up!  ❞ ❝  i still don’t believe everything that happened.  ❞ ❝  i never miss twice.  ❞ ❝  bit too old to believe in bedtime stories, aren’t you?  ❞ ❝  you humans have...unusual tastes.  ❞ ❝  didn’t think it worthwhile to tell me, warn me of your plans?  ❞ ❝  i think you will not attack one unarmed.  ❞ ❝  the deeper i get into this, the more i gotta wonder...why’re you even helping me?  ❞ ❝  to live in peace, we first must kill.  ❞ ❝  at times fate muddles our path, and life turns toilsome, hard to bear.  ❞ ❝  i fight for whoever’s paying the best. or whoever’s easier to rob.  ❞ ❝  do not let my beauty distract your aim.  ❞ ❝  i’ve seen what is to come, i know destruction approaches.  ❞ ❝  the war awoke an ancient power. an evil one that feeds on bloodshed.  ❞ ❝  guess you’re no stranger to fury, either.  ❞ ❝  think i’m gonna fall for that? no chance, you’re wrong.  ❞ ❝  gotta admit --- you do pretty well with a sword.  ❞ ❝  you dare tell me to calm down?! you?!  ❞ ❝  let's say i go about my business, and when there's coin to be earned, i don't readily turn it down.  ❞ ❝  i wish to know the truth...be it sweet, be it painful, i wish to know.  ❞ ❝  men, the polite ones at least, would call me a monster.  ❞ ❝  even i grow ill at the sight of you.  ❞ ❝  i’m going on a walk. or is that not allowed either? because i could break my leg?  ❞ ❝  plan’s crazier than it is sane...but there’s an irrestistible charm to it.  ❞ ❝  unbelievable! you said something romantic! you!  ❞ ❝  we may not survive this. in fact, our chances are slim.  ❞ ❝  if anything should happen to you...  ❞ ❝  there’s not been a dark cloud yet that didn’t have a silver lining.  ❞ ❝  those are some fresh lookin’ scars you’ve got there.  ❞ ❝  no. no more about the battle. just hold me. and say something nice.  ❞ ❝  stay. this is the only home we’ve ever had.  ❞ ❝  you’re so charming when you try to be funny.  ❞ ❝  not proud of it...yet i considered all the options and found none better.  ❞ ❝  i look far different from when you last saw me.  ❞ ❝  i admire your optimism. wish i shared it.  ❞ ❝  and...try not to draw any attention to yourself.  ❞ ❝  nightmares haunt our nights and days. folk sleepwalk from their homes, never to return.  ❞ ❝  forgive me. it couldn’t be avoided. i truly am sorry.  ❞ ❝  well i’ve departed, escaped, been forced to flee so many times…yet i always returned. you ought to be used to it by now.  ❞ ❝  the human mind is as wild and unexplored a place as any land far beyond the sea.  ❞ ❝  you think you’ve won. you are wrong. i can’t die.  ❞ ❝  you’re something more. something more.  ❞ ❝  barely nicked me, i’ll be fine.  ❞ ❝  it’s just that i felt...stifled, in your shadow. i’d have suffocated had i stayed.  ❞ ❝  come, don’t just stand there. i want a hug.  ❞ ❝  it’s lovely here! i could stay forever.  ❞ ❝  do what you will, but leave me out of this.  ❞ ❝  we should end this discussion -- before i say something i'll regret.  ❞ ❝  you all right? you’re as pale as death.  ❞ ❝  let’s get back to the hut. i’ll protect you along the way.  ❞ ❝  not to keen on talking about it, are you?  ❞ ❝  it’s better to die than to live in the knowledge that you’ve done something that needs forgiveness.  ❞ ❝  i was afraid you were dead.  ❞ ❝  at times one must use reason, rather than blades.  ❞ ❝  need some peace. gotta prepare.  ❞ ❝  i suspected it might not be the best idea, but i was desperate, had no choice.  ❞ ❝  so tell me how it happened. step by step.  ❞ ❝  it was a bit of a lark, a jest. i meant to bring it all back, i swear.  ❞ ❝  if i wanted to kill you, you'd be long dead by now.  ❞ ❝  that is precisely one of the reasons why i abhor your world.    your senseless brutality.  ❞ ❝  i won’t let them take you, you know that?  ❞ ❝  magic...childish hocus-pocus. it’s just not interesting. what i find fascinating are true tales of true human lives.  ❞ ❝  save your praise for others. i couldn’t give a shit.  ❞ ❝  well, well, i am impressed. doubted you still had it in you, frankly.  ❞ ❝  i like you. don’t make me hurt you.  ❞ ❝  you know very little can hurt you being immortal, so you take wild risks, chase extreme sensations. there comes a point you’ve done it all, and all seems boring and monotonous.  ❞ ❝  with you i finally feel...harmony. a calm. feel like things are the way they're supposed to be.  ❞ ❝  i'm afraid the dishwater’s as good as it gets in this establishment.  ❞ ❝  sorry to take so long, but i had to deal with the guards.  ❞ ❝  i’d never miss a chance to spend a pleasant evening with you.  ❞ ❝  you know too much. yet one more reason why you must die.  ❞ ❝  or perhaps you seek to trick me.  ❞ ❝  if you acknowledge any gods...start praying, now.  ❞ ❝  it’s very simple. you either deceived me...or not.  ❞ ❝  i am known neither for my sense of humor nor for my patience.  ❞ ❝  naturally, it would be easier with your help, but...you irritate me.  ❞ ❝  love questions like that. am i holding up? what, my dick?  ❞ ❝  we never hunt in these woods. not even if it means the whole village starves.  ❞ ❝  we’re only ever the ones to know the truth about ourselves.  ❞ ❝  you’re insolent because you believe i cannot afford to hurt you. and you’re right.  ❞ ❝  i detest graveyards, especially wandering them alone.  ❞ ❝  you know too much. you impede me too often. and i find your arrogance an annoyance.  ❞ ❝  i know it’s wartime, but try not to be a hero, all right?  ❞ ❝  i don’t know that i’ll make for engaging company. in truth, i rarely talk to men.  ❞ ❝  you know...had a dream about you recently.  ❞ ❝  i thought i could at least count on you to treat me seriously.  ❞ ❝  don’t ask questions you know the answers to. it makes you look stupid.  ❞ ❝  you’re nosy. starting to piss me off, you know?  ❞ ❝  what did i do to deserve this? have i given you cause to doubt my intentions?  ❞ ❝  don’t fret about me. i always get by somehow, right?  ❞ ❝  i wanted to go with you --- that was my idea.  ❞ ❝  i shan’t stray a step from your side.  ❞ ❝  if that’s what it takes to save the world, it’s better to let that world die.  ❞ ❝  what’s that supposed to mean? that a threat?  ❞ ❝  i’m offering a great and true adventure, an experience like no other, the fate of only the chosen few.  ❞ ❝  that’s like choosing between pestilence and the plague.  ❞ ❝  what’s it matter? i only ever thought of you.  ❞ ❝  did you know you’ve gained twenty-seven new scars since we’ve last saw each other?  ❞ ❝  i need to know the details if you want me to get my hands dirty.  ❞ ❝  don’t know you. go away.  ❞ ❝  ever vigilant, even in your sleep. quite vampire-like, in fact.  ❞ ❝  gotten used to people treating me like a freak, an outcast.  ❞ ❝  we share a cause, then. just like the old days.  ❞ ❝  ever considered becoming a burglar? skill like that’d come in awful handy.  ❞ ❝  there’s never been a frown that couldn’t be turned upside down.  ❞ ❝  honesty's an attribute of the truly brave --- and thus the privilege of the very few.  ❞ ❝  you do not have a monopoly in altruism, my friend.  ❞ ❝  great love demands great sacrifices.  ❞ ❝  i believe it wise at times to share one’s secrets, unburden oneself to those one can trust.  ❞ ❝  it would be nice from time to time if you could sit back and enjoy life, instead of going around solving everyone’s problems.  ❞ ❝  we shall dance until the break of dawn!  ❞ ❝  a man could lose his head for a lass like you.  ❞ ❝  don’t have to come if you don’t want. wait here.  ❞ ❝  never seen this side of you.  ❞ ❝  i’m to kiss the ground you walk on, is that it? but you just did your duty.  ❞ ❝  the day you give me a smile...that moment, that’s what i’m waiting for.  ❞ ❝  i need a soul intelligent and clever, an individual who fears no dare. someone like you.  ❞ ❝  if i was you i’d catch some shut-eye, not go on flapping my tongue.  ❞ ❝  the plan is simple...which does not mean it will be easy to execute.  ❞ ❝  sometimes you really get on my nerves, you know.  ❞ ❝  you shall not turn on me, use what i say against me? you shall not tell anyone?  ❞ ❝  gave you a chance. should’ve taken it.  ❞ ❝  always better to do a bit more and even gain nothing by it,    than to do too little and face regret.  ❞ ❝  it’s lovely out here. the birds singing, the bees buzzing...blissful, really.  ❞ ❝  what a lovely dress. the color suits you exquisitely.  ❞ ❝  pretty fantastic tale. hard as hell to believe.  ❞ ❝  it’s time you discovered my romantic side.  ❞ ❝  you gotta understand the whole world doesn’t revolve around you.  ❞ ❝  can you not see i am out of my mind with worry?  ❞ ❝  every rose has its thorn, and there are no happy endings.  ❞ ❝  pretty quick to reject help. why is that?  ❞ ❝  don’t need to like each other. just gotta do our jobs.  ❞ ❝  frankly, if i can do something for you, i'll do it, willingly.  ❞ ❝  you were hired you kill me, were you not?  ❞ ❝  what’s it like, going toe to toe with a monster? knowing you’ve only two options --- to kill or be killed?  ❞ ❝  this place --- there’s evil here. death hangs in the air.  ❞ ❝  intellect counts as much as strength.  ❞ ❝  i run back inside, hasp the doors, and then i hear it --- someone whispering my name.  ❞ ❝  you know i like you. unlike the rest of this lot, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders.  ❞ ❝  if you love somebody, set them free.  ❞ ❝  if you hate me so deeply, why don’t you tell me to my face?  ❞ ❝  i’m afraid you’d not realize which way the wind was blowing if you pissed straight into it.  ❞ ❝  that was courageous. i'd never expect it from you.  ❞ ❝  i am not easily impressed, but i must admit you have succeeded, my dear.  ❞ ❝  kill me if you must. i’ve nothing to live for anyway.  ❞ ❝  aren’t you an extraordinary beauty.  ❞ ❝  never suspected you believed such things.  ❞ ❝  wait...you want to go with me? out of the question.  ❞ ❝  used to it. not the first time i’ve been hunted.  ❞ ❝  enough of this hesitation, this fretting, these feelings of guilt!  ❞ ❝  strange working with you. strange, but great.  ❞ ❝  give me a moment. i must don something more appropiate and concealing.  ❞ ❝  killing comes as naturally to me as blowing my nose.  ❞ ❝  ......   another tale of a life compromised and ultimately claimed by greed and ambition.  ❞ ❝  in the future, though, remember this --- i can look after myself  ❞ ❝  you'd really worry about me if i went on alone?  ❞ ❝  you have many merits. you merely hide them from the world very diligently.  ❞ ❝  is it true virtue always trumps villainy?  ❞ ❝  watch my movements. i’m spry as a cat and sly as a fox.  ❞ ❝  ah, if only this could last forever.  ❞ ❝  few i can rely on like i can on you. kinda hoping you think the same of me.  ❞ ❝  you are angry at the whole world. you feel inferior, feel pain, though you mask this with confidence, arrogance, even.  ❞ ❝  there exist worries for which there quite simply is no other medicine.  ❞ ❝  your bones look thin, your breathing’s wheezy. afraid one punch might kill you.  ❞ ❝  to love is to build a house of cards, or play a game of chess, but one word or ill-thought move and you must start it all afresh.  ❞ ❝  i’m doing what i ever wanted to do, being who i wanted to be. i believe that’s one definition of happiness.  ❞ ❝  you’ve not an ounce of refinement in you, have you?  ❞ ❝  pain rules the body, but fear is born in the heart.  ❞ ❝  either i get burned, or i’ll burn all else down. no other options.  ❞ ❝  should you decide your sword is the sole solution, i shall not stand in your way.  ❞ ❝  c’mon, come closer.  ❞ ❝  would you prefer i treated you like the lying manipulater you are?  ❞ ❝  i regret nothing. one lives but once.  ❞ ❝  i just hope this tale has a happy ending. for me, for you. for everyone.  ❞ ❝  just gonna go our seperate ways? no parting words?  ❞ ❝  you still stand to be quite useful to me.  ❞ ❝  i suppose you wanted to frighten me...alas, you didn’t in the least. after all, i’m a monster too, am i not?  ❞ ❝  i trust no one. learned that long ago.  ❞ ❝  it cannot be! you actually have a sense of humor.  ❞ ❝  didn’t ask for a lecture on probability. need a simple answer --- yes or no.  ❞ ❝  another word, and i shall spill even more blood. yours.  ❞ ❝  you feel resentment, i understand, but we shall work through all the unfortunate matters of the past.  ❞ ❝  stop playing dumb. i know everything...your plan.  ❞ ❝  honestly can’t see what all those dames see in you --- you’re a stick in the mud.  ❞ ❝  not showy, lovely location...perfect for romantic getaways.  ❞ ❝  i hope you’re not upset i came like this, without warning...  ❞ ❝  i’m still a long way from mastering anything. but i am trying.  ❞ ❝  now i know how you do it. just annoy your opponents to death.  ❞ ❝  word on the street is there’s a hefty bounty on your head.  ❞ ❝  for a few days now i’ve been having dizzy spells.  ❞ ❝  i’ve always had a way with ostensibly dangerous types.  ❞ ❝  wound doesn’t look good.    patch that up quick if i were you, before it starts festering.  ❞ ❝  always seemed to me you were a very complicated creature, by nature. not one to resort to such simple methods like drinking your worries away.  ❞ ❝  may i be honest? yes, i’m nervous. i really would prefer to just run off.  ❞ ❝  father always said a wise man learns from others’ mistakes, so here i am, learning from his.  ❞ ❝  ever since that horrid night...everything has changed.  ❞ ❝  what’s wrong? afraid? gut feeling queasy?  ❞ ❝  used to bother me, all your secrets...now i know if you have something to tell me, you’ll tell me.  ❞ ❝  i so don’t feel like going anywhere. sit here a while longer?  ❞ ❝  there’s something i’d like to know...how can you be so damned calm?  ❞ ❝  my knees quake like a carnival rattle.  ❞ ❝  honestly didn’t think this’d work. doubted anything would happen.  ❞

Chapter 11

TW: None

Words Count: 2.6k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 12

You think one day of rest was enough since you can walk perfectly well now without wincing. So you wake earlier than Jimin the next day, marvelling at his features for a few moments but also fighting the urge to punch him out of giving you sleeping pills so you could oversleep and not come to work.

But now that you’ve reached the office, you feel nervous. You don’t know how to face Minhyuk. You don’t know if you could even face him.

Luckily, you don’t see him at all throughout the morning. During lunch however, when you return to the office, you see him first before he does yet he just brushes right pass you. You feel relieved yet you can’t shake off the strange feeling.

And your hunch turns out to be right when Minhyuk starts being mean from the next encounter and forward. He gets angry at you for the smallest of reasons. He doesn’t quite look at you when he gives order and when you ask him to clarify things, sometimes he would glare at you. It also doesn’t help that as you get more nervous you tend to make more mistakes.

Work feels even more exhausting when you’re mentally stressed at workplace. You come home with a headache that one night.

As soon as you prepared Jimin’s dinner, you hunt for some medicines and brings it with you as you head towards the room at the end of the hallway which you’ve somehow turned into your small office area (and your husband doesn’t seem to mind so-). You sit yourself on the sofa and shifts through the documents. The expenses report from several departments submitted during today’s meeting aren’t due for review until Friday yet Minhyuk says he wants to see it first thing next morning. You know he’s just doing it to get back at you and he’d probably ended up stacking the files on his table untouched just like the last task which means you’re doing this for naught anyway but you don’t want to give him any chance of finding your fault so here you are.

Your head feels like spinning so you quickly gulp down the medicine and force yourself to start on your work. Half an hour into it though, you don’t realize when you had fallen asleep.

You wake up next day in your own bed, perfectly tucked in while Jimin sleeps soundly next to you. You sit up almost immediately.

You look at the sleeping figure next to you, his snores are very light, you note.

Unknowingly, you inch closer to his side. You’ve always loved his smell. He just smells like... him.

You’re pretty sure he tucked you in last night. Why does he pretend to be so harsh all the time if he actually cares for you?

Maybe it isn’t impossible to build a civil relationship with him. With your husband.

You stare at his features. You can’t deny it. Jimin’s really good looking. And this good looking man is your husband. Sometimes you still have trouble believing.

Your eyes fall to his lips. His plump pink lips looks very tempting. You briefly wonder if-

Don’t.

Don’t fall for him.

And at that exact moment, Jimin’s eyes shot open while simultaneously his hand grips your right hand that hovers over his face seconds ago tightly. You freeze completely, not moving a muscle because you know he’s doing it out of reflex and you don’t want to dwell on how he’s trained for that.

His stare at you is murderous and your hand move to retreat but he kept his grip vice like on your wrist.

And you could feel the intensity slowly rising between the both of you.

You could’ve sworn his face inches closer to you and you panic instantly so you back away and sit up. Without wasting another breath, you get up and disappear into the shower.

You panic at your desk. In light of this morning’s incident, finding yourself in your bed instead of the sofa as well the tense moments with Jimin, you weren’t in the right state of mind so you completely forgot about the report Minhyuk asks you to handle yesterday.

You gather your courage to tell Irene first.

“Ah the sales reports?” She says and you nod. “Mr. Park already handed it to me first thing this morning when he arrived. I went to see Mina just now and handed the reports to Mr. Kim as well.”

O...kay. You definitely don’t expect that but you can’t help but sigh in relief. Did Jimin take it last night when he finds you in the small library room?

“Wait. If you brought the files home last night, how does Mr. Park have it?” Irene narrows her eyes at you.

Shoot. “Um- I forgot I didn’t- I mean, I just realized I didn’t bring it home at all. My head was really spinning last night and I thought I brought it home, turns out I didn’t.” You fake a smile. “Perhaps Mr. Park saw it on my table.”

Irene huffed at your answer, perhaps contemplating whether to believe you or not. She doesn’t say anything after that.

You’re at Mina’s table, discussing with her about updates on meetings with R&D team as requested by your husband when Kim Minhyuk appears from his office room, storming at you with a furious look.

“Miss Y/N, what on earth do you think you’re doing?” He shouts at you, making everyone at the office look up and you feel small immediately. “Are you even doing your job?”

“I’m sorry Mr. Kim-“

“This!” He pushes a document towards you and you look down to see the sales report yesterday.

“Is there something wrong-“

“You fucking tell me.” He snarls. “Tell me, how on earth did you organize this? I don’t understand a single thing. Did you even do it?”

You remain silent. Because he’s right. You didn’t do it. But how can you say that? What would you say to him? That your husband, the president, the CEO arranged the report?

“I honestly have no idea if you’re coming for work or you’re just fucking around.” He hisses.

You literally hear the gasps from your office mate.

You draw a breath, trying to calm yourself to face Minhyuk. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kim if you’re not satisfied but-“

“Mr. Park.” Someone says. Your stomach lurch instantly.

Both you and Minhyuk look up. Your lung drops when you sight your husband standing few metres away, his hands in his pocket.

“Jimin.” Minhyuk addresses your husband.

Jimin’s eyes are on you and you look down immediately. Anxiety starts filling you up. Is he going to shout at you too?

He crosses the distance and stops short before you and Minhyuk.

“Minhyuk.” Jimin nods at him. “Do you mind if I borrow.. my wife for a moment?”

Everyone in the room gasps including you.

You stare up at him, eyes wide in shock. He wasn’t looking at you, he was smiling at Minhyuk although you know it’s entirely a facade.

You eyes flicker to Minhyuk. His expression is priceless. You’ve never seen him in a state more shock, what with all his constant smirk or flirty expression.

“Y-your wife?” He stutters.

Jimin steps closer to you then place his hand around your waist, pulling you flush against him that earns another gasp around the room. “My wife,” he reconfirms. Then towards you, he smiles briefly before he pulls you with him and leaves you at your desk before you could say anything as he walks back towards his office.

You’ve no idea what to say.

Everyone knows you’re his wife now.

And you’ve never felt so guilty towards Jimin.

Irene had never been this loud before, you think.

“Like what on earth- I really wouldn’t know! Like you know, with the way he’s treating you or literally everyone with his cold personality. Oh well, I guess that explains his stares at you.”

You stare at her. “He.. stares.. at me?”

“He does! Quite a lot actually. Caught him on a few occasions. You probably won’t notice them but I have eyes of a hawk.” She winks at you.

“You’re sure he’s not doing it to everyone?”

“Hmm he kind of does actually.. But with you- I don’t know. The look is softer, I think.” Irene says fondly.

You shake your head. “You’re exaggerating.”

“No, I’m not.” She sigh. “Why didn’t you tell me? Or anyone for that matter.”

You give her a small smile. “We wanted to keep it private. Don’t really wanna mix work.”

She nods at this. Then suddenly, her eyes widen at you then clasps your hand tightly. “Oh God! You really really have to forgive me.”

You frown. “You did something wrong?”

“Remember when you asked me about Clara Kim? Oh God- and I freaking told you she’s his girlfriend oh Lord- I’ve commited a huge sin, I know- and I’m so so sorry-“

You burst out laughing. She looks puzzled at first but then joins you. Then she turns serious. “But were you for real? You really don’t know who Clara Kim is?”

You bit your lips, unsure how to answer her. Then you slowly nod. “I don’t know.”

She looks at you in sympathy then leans down to whisper, “You think he’s cheating?”

You know he does. “No, I don’t think so. If he is, why would he let his wife be his secretary where she practically knows all his schedule?”

“Hmph. Makes sense, I guess.” She straightens herself then. “Okay. I’m going out to lunch. You coming?”

At that same moment, Jimin comes out. His eyes find you immediately. “Had your lunch?”

“I’m about to head out with Irene.”

“No- no Mr. Park. I forgot I actually had plans with my boyfriend. She’s all yours.” Irene says, already picking up her stuffs and standing.

You know she just made that up so you try as hard to give her the eye that you don’t wanna go for lunch with your husband now but she dashes off super quickly, leaving you with your husband.

“Come on.” He says.

You stand rooted to your spot, not budging. Jimin turns back to look at you. “I’m- I’m gonna have lunch with Mina.”

He glares at you and you almost want to cower but still holds your decision.

“Fine then.” He grunts then walks away. You heave a sigh of relief.

You don’t actually plan to have lunch with Mina. In fact, you don’t feel like going out at all. Instead, you sink back onto your chair. Your iPad in front of you flashes and you grab it instantly.

You feel your blood runs cold immediately upon seeing it.

You’re all over the news.

[REVEALED] Seoul’s most successful young CEO, Park Jimin’s wife identity revealed.

Mid this year, a large population of young women in South Korea had their hearts broken when arguably, Seoul’s most eligible bachelor, a young and good looking, successful CEO of the largest tech company, Park Jimin announced that he would be tying the knot with non-public figure woman, who’s identity remains closely kept secret.

But we finally know now who’s the girl that has stolen the heart of the heir to Parks Corporations. The woman is revealed to be __, 23 years old, currently working as secretary at Park Jimin’s own company, Bangtan Inc. It seems like the President wants to keep the wife close- much to the single ladies who’s working in the company’s heartbreak. The background of Park Jimin’s wife is yet to be known but whoever she may be, she must be reading a helluva of a prenup. Bagging South Korea’s allegedly most eligible bachelor, perhaps we can arrange a session to ask for a tip or two?

You wish the ground could swallow you whole.

Isn’t it illegal to be exposing informations of non public figure like this? Though you suppose the writer is trash anyway when he exposed your identity while clearly stating you’re a non public figure in the same line.

Wasn’t your marriage to Jimin suposed to be a secret and your identity kept hidden?

Yeah but then you yourself went to work at his company, gets harrassed that drive to the point of Jimin having to expose your relationship.

God. Both your index finger pressed each side of your temple tightly.

You’re contemplating whether you’re supposed to go back with Jimin so you decided to just go with him if he comes out of the office around the same time you’re off work but if he doesn’t then you’ll head home first and you desperately pray for the latter.

However, all hopes went down the drain when Jimin appears out of his room and only glares at you for a few seconds before you scramble to your feet and hastily packs your stuff.

And that’s how you find yourself walking timidly, very self conscious behind him as everyone stares at the two of you and you think it couldn’t get anymore embarassing at this.

Jimin is silent during the car ride. He busied himself with his iPad, leaving you fidgeting in the heavy silence. You decided to just man up and address the elephant in the room.

“J-Jimin..” you call softly. “I’m sorry it came down to this.. and now everyone knows you’re- I’m- um.. we’re-“

“Married.” He cuts you off.

You look up at him. He doesn’t look at you, his eyes still on his tab.

“We’re married.” He repeats. “Is that so hard to say?” He asks, finally looking at you.

“No- I me-“

“Nevermind.” He turns his gaze back to his tab and the conversation is over.

You don’t mean it that way but you just don’t want people looking down at him for marrying you, someone of no status and not even a decent upbringing background.

You play with the spoon on your hand, guilt still swallowing you whole. Drawing a breath, you look up at Jimin who’s drinking his glass of water. You’re both on the dining table, only sounds of cutleries can be heard.

“Jimin, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for all this to get exposed. I’m sorry.” You say softly.

His expression turns cold. “Are you?” He asks, looking straight at you with piercing eyes, making you recoil.

“What do you mean? I didn’t want this to happen either-“

“Yeah none of this would’ve happened if you just sit your ass at home, playing house or the perfect fucking wife.” He sneers. “Instead, you just have to work in my own fucking company, get yourself harrassed and left me with no choice.”

You want to answer him, that he’s being unfair because you didn’t ask to be harrassed but Jimin was raging so you stay muted.

“It’s dangerous, do you know that? Now everyone knows who my wife is and it’s fucking dangerous-“

“Why?” You cut him. “Tell me why it’s dangerous- Jimin who are you-“

He raises from his seat and leans down to you, face merely inches away and you swallow. “I’m a dangerous person darling.. I can snap your neck in two and you won’t see it coming.” He says as his fingers touch your neck, in an act that seems as if it’s caressing it but you know better. “And now that everyone knows who you are.. that means they can come and snap your neck too baby. But of course, you wouldn’t see it coming. And that’s what happens when you don’t listen to me. Not when I tell you to quit your fucking job, not ever.”

He raises again, standing upright before turning on his wheels and leaves you. You struggle to calm your erratic breath and nerves. And finally, you let the tears flow.

That night too, you wrote the resignation letter.

Link to Chapter 12

Posted on 210423 9:00PM

When in the streets of seoul (7)

*warning* this mentions death, murder, suicide, guns, and other gruesome and dark content if you are sensitive to these kinds of things do not read the it

Pairing: Chan x female reader

Word count: 1.8k

Previous/next

********

Chris and I talk at yongsan for hours. It was the most time I've ever spent with him, and I can honestly say that I began to see him in a new light.

Everything changed from that moment on. I don't know what it was about sitting four hours in your favorite park in the fall time which the orange leaves that had fallen around as time passed that opened us up, but whatever it did was magic.

Chris had told me about his childhood and how his father was also in a mafia so it was inevitable for him, but when it was time for him to take over he realized he wanted to start his own.

That's when he found Changbin and jisung two lost kids not having anywhere to go, he needed people to join and they were talented plus they had nowhere else to go and saying no to Chris pretty much is never a real option.

From there he just kept taking in boys that needed a home but that would benefit him in some way. In a way I found it sweet, did they have an option? Maybe not but at least he was giving them a home. I hated to say it but something in me agreed with it, and suddenly my heart felt like it jumped out of my chest.

Was it Stockholm syndrome? It had to be just more than that right?

He told me he had lost his mom in a war between his dad and another mafia. It was a hard time for him and that's when he realized hat whoever  he ended up with, he was gonna protect them with his life and that there was no way he was gonna let what happened to his mother happen to them.

"What about you? Anything interesting about your parents?" he says leaning on the bench for support. I could tell that he was fully engaged and paying attention. Chris always payed attention to details, to everything. That was one of his biggest strengths was reading people but to him,I was the hardest person to read.

" Besides my dad being a detective that's been on your case?" I giggled, I mean that had to be interesting enough right? "Besides that smarty pants!" He scrunched his nosed a little at me."Remember when I told you that I like coming to this park a lot?" Of course he remembers it's the whole reason he brought me here, but I needed a way to start the conversation. Chris hummed as a way of telling me to keep talking. "Well my mom and I used to come here every Sunday and eat ice cream ever since I was a kid" the Aussie just nodded his head and waited for me to continue.

"A few months ago actually a month before my dad was set on your case my mom committed suicide" this was something I really didn't talk to with anyone and the fact that I was sharing it with him took a lot but I needed to get it off my chest.

"She jumped off of Lottie world tower which was weird because she was always so happy, at least I thought she was" Chris's face changed and suddenly the atmosphere turned really dark. "Was you're mother's name Autumn Grey?" He leaned closer almost as if he needed to make sure he because didn't want to miss the answer. "Y-yah! how'd you know?" Did he know something about my mother's death I didn't know? I'm sure he saw that a million questions was running in my head because he was very quick to respond.

"Oh, it was all over the news. I felt sorry for her family" He couldn't stand my gaze, now it was my turn to read Chris but turning off his any signs of emotions was as easy as breathing for him. "Anyways maybe we should get outta here" Chris shoots up from his spot. He holds a hand out for me to grab and I grab on to it to stand myself up.

We're walking in Korea at 10pm at night, the air is freezing cold. Walking down the street with the gold and orange leaves crunching beneath our feet besides that, Silence was the only thing between us and neither of us cared enough to break it. Until Chris finally decides to speak up.

"Kinely there something I wanted to ask" He caused us to stop and stand in the middle of the sidewalk. "What do you think of when you think of me?" The question took me by surprise. It wasn't a question I was prepared to answer yet.

How could I tell him when think about him I think about not only power and smarts, wittyness and charm, I thought about love and passion, commitment. I thought about how fast my heart beats when I even just look at him.

"I-I don't know" I stutter, looking at the ground. I couldn't even look at him not now, not when he looks as amazing as he does right at this very moment. The truth is when it came to Chris I always avoided his eyes because when I looked into them I could feel myself sinking in.

"I wanna know what goes inside your head" Christopher grabs my chin to make me look at him. Now I had no choice but to look him in the eyes.

"I need to know what goes on inside your head because I need to know how you feel about me. I can read everyone like a book but when it comes you I can't tell a thing and it drives me insane. I feel something with you kinely, it's like I'm a whole other person when I'm with you and I don't know if it's a good or bad thing but I wanna figure it out with you. I need to know if you feel same way I do about you" With every word he spoke Chris would inch closer and closer to my face. Soon there wasn't any space left , his lips grazed against mine and a shiver went down my spine.

He looked into my eyes for approval and me nodding was the only thing he needed before he sealed the final space between us.

My whole body went numb, I almost couldn't feel anything anymore at this point. The only thing I felt was my heart jumping out of my chest and just how soft and delicate the kiss was. It was almost as if he felt that he needed to handle me with care.

When he pulled away it felt as if he had casted a love spell on me. Why was I feeling this way? "I- um.. let's go home shall we?" Suddenly the confident Chan , leader of stray kids was no longer with me. It was Christopher just a shy ordinary guy who was now amongst us. We continued to walk home both of us grinning from ear to ear.

As soon we got home Chris walked me to my room. "Thank you Chris today was... different, in a good way" we both awkwardly laugh as I tuck a strand of curly hair behind my ear. "Goodnight kinely. I hope we have more nights like this in the future" he crosses his arms behind his back. I only nod in response "Goodnight Chris" I give him a wave before closing the door.

I quickly washed my face and brushed my teeth. I put on my pajamas and head to bed. Tonight changed everything and little did I know that 'everything' was bigger than just my love life.

Waking up in the morning I sat there in bed to fully wake up. I look at the speaker and almost pushed the number on it when I realized I don't have wait for them anymore. I needed to figure out how to get to the kitchen even if it means getting lost but luckily on my way I ran into my favorite oranged haired boy.

"Well if it isn't my favorite Aussie in the world" I smiled at him and he happily returned it. "We both know Chan is your favorite Aussie " Felix playfully rolled his eyes at me. I assumed he had just woken up not too long ago as well due to the fact the his hair was all over the place and his voice was a little deeper and raspier than normal.

"Whatever! Hey can you point me in the direction where the food is?" I wiggle my eyebrows, Felix shook his head at me. "Just say the kitchen you weirdo" he walks down the hall and looks behind him once he realized that I wasn't following him.

"Are you coming? " Felix rubs his eyes with he back of his hands still trying to wake up all the way. "Right I totally was" he laughs at me knowing that I was lying but I then began to follow and he proceeded to lead me to the kitchen. Once we arrived there a few of the boys that were already there including Chris and Hyunjin.

Everyone was starring at me and Hyunjin looked slightly irritated about something. Changbin , Minho , and seugmin all had a weird grin on their face that I couldn't quite read. "Ow ya goin mate?" Chris greeted Felix bright and happy Felix just waved not really in the mood to talk at the moment. We both sit down at the table, me sitting next to Changbin and Felix next to seugmin. "Good morning babygirl" Chris greets and my eyes widen.

I wasn't used to him calling me that but I honestly didn't hate it. "Morning Chris" we both showed off our dimpled smile displaying it to eachother. "Morning guys" the boys greet me and Minho gives Chris a look. What is going on with everyone today? Felix noticed it too because he raised an eyebrow and looked between the both of us. "I wanna know the secret!! Did I miss something?" His curiosity got the best of him but all he got in return were smirks and shrugged shoulders. I just shook it off and decided to talk to my favorite brown haired boy. "Hey Hyunjin how'd you sleep?" I gave him a soft smile.

Hyunjin quickly stands up "excuse me, I'm not hungry. I'll just head to my room now." Was all he said before storming off. I looked at the other boys hoping they could answer my questions but they too looked just as confused as I was.

***

Previous/next

Game Night! [Liveblog #4]

I’m gonna try to finish up the last game and the end of the video in this post, so we better get right to it!

The last game they’re going to play is called Quiplash. Okay, they’re going to be given a prompt... and whoever finishes the quip in the funniest way wins. Kat warns that she’s a master at this and that everybody’s going down. Colin seems impressed by her bravado, but incensed to win nonetheless. “Here we go,” says Sam unenthusiastically 😂

AND THE GAME IS ON!!!

...or it’s meant to be on. Sam’s not joined the game yet. Seems to be having some sort of technical difficulty. “You scared of losing, Sam?” Colin asks helpfully. “All the rest of us got in pretty easy...”

Sam has joined. His name is now Colonislosin 😂 It’s hard to see exactly how it’s spelled. I don’t think any of them can see it that clearly, either. Sam has to tell them what it says.

“We’ll see,” Colin says. “We’ll see.”

The game begins. “It’s more like Col-on is losin,” Sam says. “Col-on.”

The audio is breaking all up in this segment, and Josh even comments on “Low internet signal. We’re doing great.” Hmm. I paid $10 for this, you damn well better find a stronger internet signal.

ROUND 1! The first quip is: We can all agree that... The two answers are: “Covid sucks” and “Josh... is... hairy” “Covid sucks” wins ~ and Colin gets all the points.

The second quip is: A terrible name for a funeral parlor. The two answers are: “Happy Times Palace” and “We put the Fun in Funeral” “We put the Fun in Funeral” wins ~ and Kat gets all the points.

The third quip is: “Knock Knock” “Who’s There?” The two answers are: “Me DUH” and “Get the fuck away from my door” “Get the fuck away” wins and Josh gets most of the points. Colin gets some too, I think, for his answer, because Sam voted for it.

The fourth quip is: “Something that would make a creepy replacement for the horses on a merry-go-round.” The two answers are: “Mini Josh’s” and “Creepy Princes” AREN’T THOSE THE SAME THING?! 😂 “One and the same,” says Sammy. “You don’t want to sit on a mini Josh, do you?” Sam ponders. Josh forgets to even vote, and Sam gets points for “Mini Josh’s”

At the end of Round 1, Sam is in the lead, with Kat and Colin tied for second.

I wanna take this moment to apologize for how BORING this post is so far. During the games, all five people (the three stars, Josh, and Sammy the producer) are in these miniscule windows on the far right of the screen. You can barely even see them. And during this game, there’s little to no conversation going on between/during the quips. As much fun as this game might be to play, it’s not a lot of fun to watch. The last one was better, but even that tended to DRAG for the audience at home. Josh really needs to work on the games he’s having stars play if he plans to keep charging $10 a month to watch this stuff. Also, the audio keeps breaking up in this segment, so even when they talk, some of it’s hard to decipher.

“I respect that Colin is doing this instead of reading bedtime stories to his children tonight,” Josh says as everyone’s entering in their answers for Round 2. “[That’s] how committed I am,” Colin replies. Kat says something that is so broken up, I can’t even begin to figure out what it is. Something about bedtime stories and Colin’s kids. It’s probably funny. 🤷‍♀️ I’m getting mad about my $10 gift card being gone again.

Alright. Round 2.

Quip #1: It never ends well when you mix ___ and ___. Answers: “poo and oatmeal” and “Sam and Josh” Okay, that second one is gold. Who did that? Apparently Colin did “poo and oatmeal” and Kat did “Sam and Josh”. Bless her. Colin gets the points with more votes, though.

Quip #2: The worst car feature that ends with “holder” Answers: “penis” and “diaper” Sam is just blinking rapidly. Now he’s laughing. “How does that work?” he asks. No one answers. “But I wanna know,” he says. “How does it work?” Josh wins the points with his “penis” answer - which Colin voted for, by the way - but no one cares now. “Does it move?” Kat asks. “Or does it just-” “Don’t ask too many questions,” Josh says. “What kind of size is it?” Sam asks. “Is it stationary or is there a motor feature?” Kat asks. “Maybe it’s a good idea...” Sam concludes, as Josh laments the kind of dreams he’s going to have now.

The third quip is literally happening in the background now, as everyone talks about the penis holder. Colin is noticeably silent on the topic XD

Quip #3: Something upsetting you could say to the cable guy as he installs your television service. Answers: “you smell like fart” and “want to see my murder room?” I’m sitting here going, “don’t be Colin, don’t be Colin” while simultaneously knowing 100% that Colin absolutely typed “you smell like fart” into his phone and... Yeah. Yeah, I’m right. That was him 😂 And he got 0 points. “Oh, boooo,” says Colin. Honey... Honey, I’m sorry, but that was bad.

Quip #4: The name of the reindeer Santa did not pick to pull his sleigh. Answers: “ohdeer” and “tipsy” Neither of these are very good. I hate this game. Kat gets the points with “tipsy”.

OH WOW, YOU GUYS. The final points are tallied and...

WHAT IS THIS TOMFOOLERY?! Colin is LOSING?!?! I mean, I know “you smell like fart” was bad, but this is unbelievable! I call shenanigans!!!

Colin is literally sitting forward in his chair now, lmao. The determination is intense, you guys. I once again cannot handle him right now. I wish he wasn’t in the teeny tiny window so I could show you guys better, but look at him getting his fucking game face on:

This man is a peanut and I love him with every fiber of my being. Look at him being a competitive little somesuch in last place. I can’t, you guys. Bury me here, etc, etc, I’m just a goner for this ridiculous man.

O’DONOINTENSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Last Round: Quip: Strange side effect to hear during a drug commercial. Answers: “cream cheese will come out of your butt” “seeing double horowitz” and “the screams of baboons” - there’s only three because Kat didn’t get her answer in before the time was up. Aaaaaaand the sound’s breaking all up again 😣 Josh is wondering what the point is of voting, if all you’re doing is giving points to your competitors. “Do you have to give all three votes?” Colin asks. “See,” Josh says. “Colin is thinking strategically, like me.” “Well, I’m not entirely sure the other two, I think, deserve any more than one point.” But it’s... it’s the WAY he says it, OH MY GOD, lol. Lemme... I gotta... Okay, I screen recorded it for you guys.

That O’Donosass is actually almost worth $10, you guys.

Which is good, because the audio is getting worse and worse on this and it’s starting to piss me off. Anyway! Everybody’s got a lot of points, because those were ALL good answers (Colin’s was “the screams of baboons” which I quite like). Let’s see the final tally...

Josh is the winner! But Colin managed a come-from-behind close second, so I’m really proud of him :D Sam mentions how Josh invited them all there to play games and then BEAT them. Josh is closing out the show, saying he hopes everyone enjoyed it... “I enjoyed it,” Josh says "But maybe that’s just 'cause I won at the very last second.” “No, well, you won ONE,” Colin cuts in. “You won ONE game.”

SERIOUSLY. BURY ME RIGHT THERE 😂😂😂

“Colin won the first round,” Josh says.

“...and then we have these two other people.”

Incidentally, I wish everyone’s webcams were as clear as Kat’s.

Anyway, now there’s some sweet summing up... and Josh hawking everyone’s current projects... (gee, it’s like this is promotional content or something) and the show closing down and-

“Can I win next time?” asks Sam Heughan.

~ The End ~

I hope you guys had fun reading this. I gotta say...  this one video isn’t worth $10. I can see if you’re a huge fan of Josh’s or really into celebrity culture, $10 a month might be a fine price to pay for a bunch of this kind of content... but for a one-time video when your fave happens to show up on his channel? Nah. He really should have a “one time access” fee available for individual videos that’s a LOT less. Like, I’m talking, like... $1 or 2. This is literally a zoom call... and as such, the quality’s only as good as his guests’ webcams and audio and everyone’s internet connections. Also, I found the game format enticing... but ultimately boring due to the games chosen. The Would You Rather was the most fun of the three, because we actually got to hear from the stars and get some banter going. The games relied too much on the stars interacting with their devices instead of each other or anyone really engaging the audience. Honestly, if it was any of my faves other than Colin in this video, I might not have even watched the whole thing. Colin’s adorable competitive streak and eagerness to win play games is what kept me watching. The idea is cute, but it needs some work. And the price is too high - especially with the audio issues in the last ten minutes or so. That’s my final verdict.

Robbing the Cradle

Dean Winchester x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1932 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Dean falls in love with a younger reader, and really struggles with it.

——————————————————————————————————

Dean had put up a huge fight when it came to you, at least at first. 

He didn’t want to be in love with you, and he didn’t want to admit how happy you made him. He didn’t want to but clearly that didn’t change the fact that he had fallen so deeply in love with you that he couldn’t dig himself out.

You were nothing more than a child, at least as far as he was concerned. You were only twenty-two years old, practically still in pampers and he felt weird about it.

After all, why didn’t you want to be with a man your own age? Didn’t you want to have a normal relationship? Why would you want to be with someone like him when someone better was right around the corner. 

Dean wasn’t the most thoughtful, or well adjusted man in the world, and that wasn’t a secret. 

He knew that there was someone who could be better for you.

Still, you showed no interest in anyone other than him. It shocked the man to his core, that you never once talked about what you were missing out on, or wanting to do anything other than what you were doing. 

He just didn’t get it.

From Dean’s point of view, you should have been desperate to get out and experience life but who better to show it to you than Dean? That was the only thing that you ever said when he brought it up. 

You just didn’t understand how he could ever worry about something like that. After all, how many guys your age were going state-to-state, hunting monsters and saving lives?

Dean Winchester was one in a million...whether he chose to believe it or not.

Take today for example, you had tagged along with Sam and Dean to track down a poltergeist that was committing a series of gory murders in a small town. 

It had been a ridiculously stressful hunt, and it could have been dangerous but you had never felt more alive. You were obsessed with the thrill of the hunt. In fact, there was only one thing you liked more.

...And that was drinking. 

You had learned early on that going to the bar with the guys after a hard case was the best way to unwind. There was honestly nothing like it and you had never passed up a chance to go after everything was over. 

Which was good, considering the fact that Dean also really liked to hit the bar when he was stressed. 

...But he wasn’t the only one. 

There were a ton of guys with really hard lives and things they’re running from. Everyone had things they were trying to forget and liquor just aided in that journey. 

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only thing liquor did. 

It also made some men lose their tact, which with a beautiful woman around, was never good. It was a bad combo and Dean was really figuring that out tonight. 

“What’s wrong Dean?” you wondered, in a sing-song tone, even going so far as to throw your arm over his shoulder casually. 

The action was a little goofy with the slight drinking you’d been doing but you were in no way drunk. 

You had just been trying to get him to play pool for an hour now and tonight he was practically a bump on a log. 

...It was no fun at all. 

Especially not considering how much fun Dean was when he was in a good mood. You just missed it tonight, and you had no idea what was on his mind.

  “Nothing’s wrong, just got a lot on my mind” he tried, but you knew better. 

He may have been older than you but sometimes his pouting made you doubt it. You and Dean had been together for too long for that to work. 

The two of you had nearly died today and all he could think about was the hunt. It was kind of unbelievable. 

However, you were missing the biggest part of this whole thing. You had no idea but you and Dean weren’t alone in your casual affection. At some point, you had caught the attention of a group of strangers. 

...But you hadn’t noticed yet. 

You thought that there was something wrong with you, or that he was bored of your company. 

“Please Dean? Can’t we just play? I wanna have a good time and forget about the monsters” you begged, your voice nothing more than a purr in his ear. You were desperate for a little fun, especially after such a long and stressful day.

Though, you still didn’t know that across the bar stood that group of younger guys, not much older than you are. 

They’d had their eyes on you since you two walked in, and it was really starting to bother Dean.

He couldn’t stand it. 

Dean had been around the block before, and he had been that sort of guy. He knew that they were talking about him, and that they were weighing their options about what their chances were with you. 

They thought that he had robbed the cradle, and they were planning on taking you away from him...and why wouldn’t you go?  They were young, and built and they could offer you the world.  

How was he supposed to compete with that?

“I’m not really in the mood tonight, why don’t you play without me?” he suggested, waving over to the table begrudgingly. He felt bad about it but he just couldn’t fake it tonight. 

These were the sorts of things that really got to him about the age gap that you two had. Other people constantly had their eyes on you, as if you didn’t know what you were missing out on. 

Though, you both knew that wasn’t the case. 

As far as you were concerned, you weren’t missing out on anything, and Dean didn’t ever get that far. He was fully in love with you, and as long as you wanted to be with him, he would take it. 

...But not tonight. 

Tonight, he just needed to sit by himself and stew over everything that was bothering him. 

It was the way the Winchester men dealt with things, and there was nothing he could do to change that. 

You nodded, taking the hint and heading over to the table. Luckily, you were able to reach out to a few people at the pool table and join their game. They were nice, but you found it really hard to take the distraction. 

You were just worried about Dean. 

So worried, in fact, that you completely missed the one brave guy out of the pack who approached you. He had just chugged an entire beer can, and he was feeling on top of the world.

Clearly, that had led him to believe that you wanted anything to do with him. Even if you were putting out every single signal telling him that wasn’t the case.

As far as you were concerned, it didn’t matter if this guy was David Beckham or the queen of England. 

The last thing you wanted right now was for some average Joe to bother you. 

Not that your very clear body language kept him from coming. 

Before you could say or do anything about it, his arm was slung around your shoulder, a clumsy stumble following. He wasn’t smooth by any means, but weren’t too worried about it.

You were a literal monster hunter. You could handle a handsy frat boy that was too far out of his depth. 

Both you and Dean had handled worse. 

“Can I help you?” you wondered, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as you shrugged him off, not even bothering to drop your pool cue. You didn’t imagine this would take too much time at all.

The Bozo to your right only laughed, smiling at you with a lopsided grin. “I was thinking more along the lines of how I could help you” he suggested, the words leaving his throat in a sick tone.

It made you want to be ill. 

This guy was a creep and you knew for a fact that he had nothing to offer you. Though, before you could inform him of that simple fact, an all too familiar hand fell down on his shoulder. 

...Because as it would turn out, Dean couldn’t just sit by and watch.

He knew that you could handle it, but he couldn’t help himself. As much as he tried to stay out of it, it made his blood boil to watch someone paw at you like that. 

It wasn’t in his nature. 

“Is there a problem man?” the younger guy wondered, looking at Dean as if he’d committed some sort of serious offense. If only he knew what he was getting himself into.

You could tell that Dean was doing his best to keep calm, which was good. However, you couldn’t be sure how long that patience would last. 

If you knew anything, it wouldn’t be long at all.

Dean Winchester was a lot of things, but patient wasn’t one of them. 

“No, there’s no problem at all...except for the fact that you’ve got your hands on my girl” he started, his jaw tensed slightly as he addressed the frat boy by your side. 

He seemed just as upset as you could have expected, though he was doing a pretty good job of keeping it hidden. 

“Wait, hold up, this is your girl? Is that what you’re telling me?” the stranger laughed, looking between the two of you with a grin on his face. 

...Obviously that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, but you didn’t get it.

There was nothing funny about it and as soon as he said it, you found yourself getting angry. Not only was this guy a creep, but he was also gonna question a man like Dean? 

He must have been an idiot. 

However, before you could step up and make that point, Dean stopped you with a calm glance. 

You hadn’t been prepared for that reaction, but Dean had. From the moment that you two started doing this whole thing, he had been waiting for these kinds of reactions. 

A guy like him had no business being with a woman like you, and he knew that. 

“Look man, I get it...but yes, this is my girlfriend and I’d appreciate it if you backed off” he suggested, knowing it wouldn’t go down that easily. Though, he wanted to give this kid a chance. 

After all, he was just a young guy trying to have a good time and Dean understood that, not that he was going to let this whole thing slide if he kept it up. 

...And of course he kept it up. 

“Oh yeah? You’d appreciate it?” he scoffed, glancing down at you. “Can you believe this guy, honey?” he just kept going, laughing. 

You could have killed him. 

There was only one thing that you knew in this moment, and that was that this wasn’t going to end well.

*Bonus* 

“Are you alright baby?” Dean checked, smiling at you in a tired sort of way. It had been a long day, but you nodded, anyway. 

“I’m fine, are you okay though?” you hummed, returning the favor. He seemed alright, but the bruise blooming on his cheek proved potentially different. 

That jerk had got one lick in before Dean knocked him out. 

Little did you know, but in that moment, Dean had actually never been better.

What was your opinion of the Clovis arc? People I know either love it or hate it, no in between. I generally liked it but found it waayyy ooc.

Hey anon, thanks for the ask!!!!

AHSJFLSLALK OK SO UH. Wow. Clovis arc. Yiiiiiiikes ok so. I totally agree with you on the fandom divide and I also totally agree that everyone involved in it is rather OOC for my taste. That being said, that case of OOC is exactly why I personally do not like the arc that much at all.

(Please note that my following words are MY PERSONAL OPINIONS, and that anyone is free to disagree, in fact I welcome the discussion, and even if this is your favorite arc, please consider yourself welcome on my blog I hold nothing against those who might like it)

Part of me was gonna make a short and sweet point about how I don’t like that TCW has had both of its main female characters have unwanted kisses forced on them, and instead of teaching young girls watching to tell those kinds of people to fuck off and respect their bodies, we get: 1. Just let it happen, you both must kinda like each other anyway or 2. Stay still then sit back while your boyfriend beats him half to death

But actually turns out I wanted to spend all day writing an essay so now you get this. So far I’m gonna hit four points:

the show’s constant need for Vader foreshadowing sometimes tending to completely override Anakin’s current mindset and personality he should have at this point in the timeline as well as his preestablished characterization

the way TCW gave Anakin a giant dosage of toxic masculinity to try and please the pissy movie critics who didn’t like that he cried

the role of Padmé and how TCW tries to portray her as a “strong woman” by just having her constantly be irritated by and sometimes even look like she actively dislikes her husband while simultaneously have her act OOC so they can blame HER and her actions for Anakin’s reactions and anger and overall Fall

How I think this arc is not irredeemable and that with some fixes it could be done decently— decently, not well, because a lot of this arc’s problems are also due to preexisting writing choices throughout the show

(Ok whoops this turned into a half Clovis arc rant half entire TCW Anidala commentary)

So firstly I wanna start that yes, I am fully aware that TCW is meant to fill in the gaps between AOTC and ROTS and help explain why Anakin’s mindset in the final movie is what it is and justify his Fall. Of course we need to show some Vader foreshadowing throughout the series, and in some places it is executed very well, notably the Mortis arc, the Bad Batch arc, the Wrong Jedi arc, as well as others that I can’t cite off the top of my head currently because I might have a mild touch of heat exhaustion wooo I need to get off the beach.

But it also has some rather hamfisted Vader foreshadowing stuff too. Like, y’all know the fandom joke where it’s like “Anakin: *Accidentally Leaves The Toilet Seat Up*. The Background Music: *BLASTS the Imperial March*” but like, they actually really do that. Like the time where they have Anakin take out a terrorist about to blow up an entire ship full of people and then play the Imperial March afterwards and imply he’s a “cold-blooded killer” just to defend the moral purity of the two people who were gonna stand there and let the ship blow in the name of idealism.

I’m getting off topic but yeah, sometimes the show’s Vader foreshadowing makes sense, sometimes it’s pretty forced, and the Clovis arc DEFINITELY leans towards the forced side, and when they try to force more of Darth Vader into Anakin at a point where he shouldn’t quite be there yet, it screws with his entire character.

This is particularly shown in the majority of the show’s takes on Anakin’s relationship with Padmé. Namely, they tend to forget nearly the entirety of AOTC with the exception of the Tusken murder scene, then forget even more of ROTS up until the point where Anakin strangles her on Mustafar. Basically, they take the truth that it was Anakin’s unhealthy attachment to Padmé that sparked his Fall, but then they decide to run with it where almost every single interaction he has with her in the damn show is him being a toxic overbearing dick to her and her acting like she mildly tolerates him at most and definitely doesnt respect him as like, I guess a way of showing what happened on Mustafar is in character for them???? Ugh, I’ll explain further.

So with Anakin’s aggressive possessiveness towards her. We know Anakin has possession and attachment issues. We know he’s a clingy needy whiny anxious mess who’s constantly afraid of losing or driving away the few people he has pinned his entire happiness on. We know he leans unhealthily on Padmé to provide the majority of his emotional support. We know he’s convinced himself he can’t live without her. But never, NEVER is it seen in the movies where his possessiveness turns into outward aggression towards her or this douchey pushiness. Never does he treat her like his property, like she belongs to him.

Not until Mustafar.

Not until he’s raving, half out of his mind with the warring emotions over the atrocities he’s just committed, until he’s begging her to understand where he was coming from, begging her and the child to stay with him and justify his decision, until he sees Obi Wan and sees her backing away from him, leaving him, and he PANICS because oh no no no you can’t abandon me, I need you, doN’T YOU WALK AWAY FROM ME. And he lashes out and tries to force her to stay, punish her for leaving and doubting him, and he puts that hand around her throat.

And that is supposed to be when we know he’s crossed the line, when we’re supposed to be horrified, where we know he’s lost himself, because he has NEVER ACTED LIKE THAT BEFORE.

Now how does Anakin act before? In the movies? He’s deferential to Padmé in almost every other scene they’re in together.

In AOTC, yeah he stares at her a bit creepily from a distance, he says awkward things and does goofy stuff to impress her, but he does Not get in her face. The few times he does invade her space, she flat out tells him: stand back. Don’t look at me like that. Don’t say that. Don’t interrupt me. And Anakin always, always backs off, respects her wishes. He follows her lead and lets her call the shots both on Naboo when he’s supposed to be protecting her and when she organizes the Geonosis rescue and once they arrive where she flat out tells him “I’m a Senator, I’ll handle this, just back me up”, and he’s all but just “ok yes queen”.

But they aren’t married then. Fine, take ROTS. It’s a movie all about Anakin’s issues but even then, when he’s worried about Padmé dying, he tells her he’s worried and that he can’t lose her, but he still keeps a distance. He doesn’t constantly hover and loom over her. If anything, Padmé, both in ROTS and AOTC is always the one to approach Anakin and close the distance when there’s conflict. When Anakin is upset, he averts his eyes and distances himself, tries to draw in on himself and brood silently, and we’ve seen it in Palpatine sometimes (of course with bad motives but he still does), but Obi Wan and Padmé both especially needing to be the ones to come over, turn his face to them and be like “hey, look at me, I care about you, what’s wrong”. Padmé SAYS in ROTS when he’s feeling specifically conflicted about losing Padmé, “don’t shut me out” and has to come over to him because he’s retreated into a corner of the room to scowl angstily out the window. Anakin does NOT get overbearing and possessive of her or get in her face, not once in the films.

In the fucking show? The Clovis arc, while perhaps the worst offender, isn’t even close to being the first time Anakin has been overly pushy and aggressive with Padmé, or acting like she’s something he owns, From that time in the Senate Hostage ep where he’s bugging her about ditching work and all but acting like incels texting like “awww but babe my dick hurts :(”, from the FIRST Clovis disaster ep where he’s childishly trying to screw up Padmé’s mission, to the Clovis arc in season 6

And this is where they just roll right in with their “oh so Anakin’s an overbearing, entitled douche” bit with the interaction he has with Pads and he’s trying to talk her out of taking the Clovis assignment and he says something along the lines of “as your husband, I demand you don’t do this”.

Hwat. The Fuck.

What kind of caveman-esque, 1800’s-ass man of the house whom my wife must obediently serve kinda entitled-ass BULLSHIT?!?!?!?

Like, I’m sorry, I really am, but that is just completely out of left field and not like Anakin at all. I mean to the point that when he’s an evil Sith Lord trying to talk her into taking over the galaxy with him, EVEN THEN he does not include “Padmé you must join me because I’m your husband and you do as I say” sort of domineering assholerly.

Anakin does not push Padmé around. He does not TRY to assert authority over her or try and force her to do shit. Not only because she doesn’t put up with that kinda shit for a second, but because Anakin respects Padmé; he will treat her with respect. He always has, and sometimes like in this arc it really doesn’t feel like he does.

Now of course Padmé’s response to the “I own you” declaration is “fuck you, asshole, I do what I want” and doubling down on her decision, and then decides to go even harder on the mission if only to spite her douche husband (and we’ll get to Padmé’s characterization in a bit) which is a very different kind of Anidala conversation we see in the show as opposed to the movies (also discussed later).

Now, the reason for Anakin’s overbearing douchery ties directly into an overarching problem in TCW— honestly, one of the very few issues I have with this show, but the problem is that it touches nearly the entire thing —and that is they almost completely reworked Anakin’s personality to be more hyper-masculine alpha male.

This is a topic I’ve discussed on my blog before, but the gist is that in the movies, Anakin was not the typical male heroic protagonist and DEFINITELY not what people expected from Future Darth Vader The Masked Brutish Male Power Fantasy. He was awkward, he was shy, he was soft spoken, he was clumsy around the girl he liked, he was very openly romantic, he liked frolicking in fields and candlelit dinners and snuggling. Two of the most important people in his life were soft, feminine women and he openly loved them very dearly and very gently— and he deferred to them when he felt it was right, as I’ve mentioned before. He CRIED when he was upset and was messy and emotional. And fanboys hated this with a burning passion. They couldn’t project their power fantasy onto this!!!! The Anakin critics were a HUGE part of the mob who crucified the prequels to the point of chasing both Anakin actors practically out of the movie industry in general.

The Clone Wars writers were obviously petrified of this happening again. So their solution, as has always been Star Wars’s solution to hateful fans being upset about an innocent character, is to completely rework them, hide or retcon all the undesirable qualities, and act like everything was all fixed. Now don’t get me wrong, there are aspects of TCW Anakin that I adore. As I’ve also mentioned before, they got his humor, his cleverness, his eagerness to do the right thing, to help people, his relationship with Obi Wan and Ahsoka and his men, they got that all perfectly. But the rest??? TCW’s solution to the criticism of Movie!Anakin was to turn him into an agressive, dominant, violent shadow of everything “soft” he was in the movie

Now, he speaks loudly and more deeply. Now, he’s cocky and overconfident and while yes he was arrogant in the movies, now it’s dialed up to like an 11. He never cries, never even THINKS to show a negative emotion that’s not Manly Rage And Aggression(TM). And then there’s the way he is around the women in his life. No more awkwardness or shyness, now he makes jokes about being a “ladies man” and does whatever the fuck flirting he does with Miraj Scintel even though the Anakin from the movies would have needed like every scrap of his self control just to look at her without insta-murdering her face. And then there’s how he is with Ahsoka and Padmé. He is muuuuch more of a loud brash dudebro around them who pushes his weight and is kind of controlling and their solution is just to have the both of them be Strong Women(TM) who Fight Back whenever he tries it too hard with them.

With Ahsoka, it’s not too bad because it’s a brand new dynamic and she’s a rather agressive firecracker personality herself when we first meet her, so the constant Snips n’ Skyguy snipefest works for them. For Padmé? It just means that in far too many episodes they’re in there’s a point where Anakin says something Eh and Padmé gets mildly irritated to actually annoyed with him for it and she’ll talk down to him and then there’s an argument between them because he’s bullheaded and she’s a Strong Woman. Why do I consider these out of character?

In the movies, despite the flaws, Anidala is a couple who actually tries to communicate. Anakin feels open to speak about his troubles to Padmé and her to him (for the most part, she definitely has a savior complex and a tendency to squash her own shit so she can help deal with both Anakin’s and the galaxy’s at large) when they’re worried or concerned about something and they want to talk it out, so they’ll talk it out!

The problem with Anidala isn’t that they don’t communicate, it’s that they try but also only do it by halves because they hate fighting. They’ll talk, Anakin will say something that Padmé might disagree with— the fascism discussion in the Naboo field in AOTC, the question of whether the Republic is just or not in TPM —and she’ll try and correct him if she feels he’ll listen, but if he doubles down, she’ll go “ok you know what, agree to disagree, let’s not fight” and she subtly changes the subject because she hates fighting with him. If Pads says something Ani doesn’t like— telling Obi Wan about them in ROTS, some emotional advice she tries to give in both movies —he’ll flat out shut down and be like “I don’t want to talk about this, let’s drop it” and then seek out cuddles or affection as a distraction.

And that brings us back to the Clovis arc. The scene where the “as your husband” line occurs. Anakin is trying to talk Padmé out of doing this not because he’s jealous. Maybe he was jealous the first time he met Clovis and saw Padmé being all cute n’ fond with her old flame, but this time it seems almost entirely because last time ended in catastrophe and he’s genuinely worried for Padmé and feels she’s not thinking wisely, that she’s putting herself in danger.

However, Anakin is deciding to voice these concerns in Possessive Dudebro Pushing because of the aforementioned misguided Vader Foreshadowing and Toxic Masculinity. Padmé? Is not even CONSIDERING what he has to say, is just breezing on through and shutting him down at every turn and generally acting like he’s a dumbass who doesn’t have a clue about anything.

Now, it is very in character for Padmé Amidala to be all “I’m right, you’re wrong, fuck you don’t get in my way”. HOWEVER, they aren’t framing this as solely Padmé having a goal and bulldozing her way through the situation. That’s not how they frame this.

They frame this as: Padmé is embarrassed that she misjudged the situation wrong the last time and embarrassed even further that Anakin had to step in and get her out of trouble— which he brings up —and probably remembers that he made fun of her while he did it—

(Timing out to say that THAT scene was also OOC; they once more wanted a Vader parallel what with Anakin’s silhouette when he opens her cell door and the way Padmé’s sleeping pose is identical to Leia’s in ANH. But Anakin basically steps in and gives her this condescending-ass “awww the little wife’s gotten in over her head like I SAID she would, good thing I’m here to rescue her!” bit that’s really just MEAN. It’s not like him and Obi Wan’s/Ahsoka’s teasing snark whenever they have to pull each out of trouble, he’s just kicking her while she’s already down. Really, Anakin’s reaction should have been a lot less humorous and a lot more pissy; she didn’t listen to him, didn’t trust him, and ended up in danger because of it. It’d be a surly and upset “I told you so”, not an amused one.)

—and now it seems much more like Padmé is solely taking this assignment to spite Anakin for being a dick and to pettily prove that she knows what she’s doing rather than any sense or urge to do the right thing. And....... childish pettiness????? Is not Padmé. And yet, she has the entire immature “don’t tell me what to DO, Anakin” attitude this whole arc that amounts to WAY more than just the normal response she would have to his overcontrolling dickishness

And once again, it’s because she, like everyone else in the episode, seems to think the problem Anakin has is that he’s jealous of Clovis. He’s not, not really. He’s insecure, yes, but he also knows Clovis is a bag of dicks as well, and trusts that Padmé knows she’s better than that. His problem isn’t fears he’ll lose Padmé, it is entirely that Padmé isn’t listening to his concerns, doesn’t trust him, is going into a situation they both know is unwise, and he is frustrated he’s not in a position where he can look out for her since he feels she’s not looking out for herself. And, he’s not entirely wrong. Padmé IS being reckless and kind of irrational solely to prove a point. He just goes about it pretty much entirely the wrong way, which is what you can really say is the cause and effect formula for any problem Anakin Skywalker encounters and subsequently makes worse.

And then there’s That Scene. The one where Clovis tries to force a kiss on Padmé and Anakin freaks and almost kills him for it. I’ll start off by quoting another Tumblr user on that very scene by saying in regards to Clovis: “that bitch deserved that”. The almost murder? Maybe not that far, but the initial hitting for disrespecting someone’s “no”? Yep, that was deserved.

My first criticism is that Anakin shouldn’t have even had time to attack him because why the fuck wasn’t Padmé instantly kneeing him in the balls?!?! Like Padmé is not prone to violence immediately, no, but she can will and does defend herself immediately when she needs to— her right punch knocked someone tf out once when she was pissed —and she already gave him a warning that his advances were not welcomed.

Now, I am absolutely not victim blaming. I am NOT saying it is the fault of a woman (I’d be a hypocrite if I did and that’s all I’ll say on THAT), or of anyone when faced with sexual harassment, if they don’t fight back for whatever reason, no matter how capable of doing so they may be. What I’m saying is that considering her previous behavior and personality and the fact that the show NEVER goes deep enough into explaining heavy stuff like why victims might freeze or NOT fight back when faced with harassment, I feel like showing her not attempting to defend herself at all is kinda strange.

Now, Padmé’s utter passiveness to the situation aside, we’re going back into toxic masculinity and misunderstood interpretations of how Anakin displays possession. While I’ll repeat that Clovis deserved consequences for the forced kiss, Anakin going full caveman defending his property jealous rage just. Doesn’t feel right to me. Again, I think Anakin would probs hit him and put the fear of living god into him, maybe even I’d buy the attempted murder if they framed it as Anakin doing it because he hates those who force their will on others and disrespect women, but the whole that’s MY wife and you’re touching her shite just once more feels alpha male aggressive ridiculousness. Like again, I understand Anakin is possessive of Padmé, but not like this. I’m sorry, but I just cannot see that, him fighting over her like she’s a scrap of meat.

Like, I completely think she’s in the right tho to put them on a break after he does it though. That’s well within her right.

But then onto the FINAL part where after Clovis goofs and fucks them all over and then dies, she forgives him and blames herself for everything and apologizes. And like, that part I do see as in canon and character for her and for Anakin. He doesn’t like to admit his mistakes, her mistakes weigh on her and when she fails to fix or save someone, she falls into depression and upset and self-blame.

But the fact that Clovis died because Anakin dropped him? Anakin Skywalker, who scaled an entire elevator shaft carrying two people over his back who combined probs weighed more than Padmé and Clovis. Anakin Skywalker, who’s used the Force to lift tons of debris, who’s used it to hold back explosions, Anakin Skywalker, MOST POWERFUL FORCE USER IN HISTORY WHO TENDS TO RELY ON BRUTE STRENGTH FOR MOST SHIT ANYWAY. That Anakin couldn’t pull two people over a ledge?!?!?!?!? This has always bothered me.

Like to be honest; I feel this entire episode could have been so fixable too. Like keep Anakin’s obsessive worry over Padmé making a mistake, keep the best part of the arc which is his talk with Obi Wan where Obi Wan tries to connect with him and explain that he’s not alone, all Jedi have emotional struggles and have loved, if perhaps he wants to TALK to someone about it, Obi Wan is here for him, like that? That’s okay!

Just ugh ffs, get rid of the nasty Anakin treating Padmé like a naughty dog who won’t obey him and the Padmé purposely acting unwisely to spite Anakin plot. Have the entire conflict be both of them being upset that the other doesn’t trust them, doesn’t believe in their advice, keep Padmé’s speech about how marriages NEED trust and compromise to survive, take all of Anakin’s aggression towards Padmé and transfer it to aggression towards Clovis, like make the conflict him menacing the guy if he hurts Padmé again just because he’s being overprotective and “if you won’t look out for yourself I will” and Anakin getting constantly checked for not being able to control his emotions, Padmé can tell him off for being overprotective instead of overaggressive and his possessiveness can instead show through him arguing that he needs to keep her safe at all costs. THAT can be the argument.

And if they want the Vader foreshadowing? Like real, in-character Vader foreshadowing??? Tbh, drop the Clovis beatdown, drop the machoness towards Padmé, and just have Anakin blatantly DROP the douchebag at the end of the episode instead of his hand slipping. Make him choose to ACTIVELY kill Clovis. Like THAT, Anakin taking the law into his own hands and deciding that he knows best and this guy is dangerous and has fucked up one too many times, there being an opportunity where there’s an chance to save Clovis when they’re alone without Pads, “be a Jedi, Padmé wouldn’t want this, do the right thing” Clovis might say, and we can see Anakin’s face considering, and then he just “Long Live The King”s him and lets him fall and die, THAT is an in-character Vader foreshadowing.

Then at the end of the episode, we can have Anakin lie to her, say Clovis slipped, say it was too late, and Padmé can believe him, thank him for trying. Then there’s the same thing where Padmé apologizes, and we can have a callback to the convo about trust and she adds that she’s sorry that she didn’t trust him, and when she says that, we zoom in on Anakin’s guilty face.

There. That’s how I’d fix these episodes

And THERE, I think I’ve complained about everything, I am SO sorry for the gigantic ass post and response, I’ll add a read more once I’m on my laptop and not on the beach on mobile.

But yeah anon, I hope that satisfies your question xD

Once again, I welcome discussion if y’all either agree with me or if you have any differing opinions, I know my takes are far from hot for several people and I’m curious to see what others think!

Aastha

Part 3 of 4

Summary: After an unimaginable loss, you discover your powers and become even more cemented in your faith. Sam experiences a similar loss and struggles with it. When you meet, how will your lives change?

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Indian!Superhero!Reader

Words: 1,922

A/N: This is for @bucky-smiles 2K Bollywood Writing Challenge! My prompt was Jab Tak Hai Jaan. The thing that stood out most to me was both of the protagonists’ struggles and/or commitments to faith, so that’s what I drew on for this fic. Although I know that Sam is an orphan in the comics, having lost both his parents to violence, I had him be raised by his mother, so she’s still alive here.

Beta’d by: The lovely @bucky-smiles herself. I wanted to make sure I did the culture and religion justice, so thank you! Also beta’d by another Indian lovely @emilyshurley​, who also made the above aesthetic for me. Thank you both for working with me. It meant a lot for me to get the culture and religion right because representation fucking matters, so your help was invaluable to me. <3

A relationship, or gasp!, love had never really been in the plans, until that morning at the Washington monument, bonding with a man named Sam Wilson about the infuriating whirlwind that was the 30-minute, 13-mile Steve Rogers. “He’s insufferable, right?” You asked, breaths heavy yet steady at your pace.

“Unbearable,” he laughed, letting go of the competition with Steve to hang back with you. “You’re Agni, right? New Avenger?”

“Been with them for about two years now, so not new. But newer. And the name’s Y/N. And despite the “A” it’s pronounced ‘ugh-nee. It’s the Sanskrit word for fire.” He smiled; impressed.

You’d never felt the need to hide your story – how you became who you were - but what Sam said next took you aback. “Sorry about your mom.”

“Thanks,” you replied, smiling fondly at the memory of her perfectly imperfect smile and shining brown eyes. “I can’t say for sure why I made it out and she didn’t. All I know is what I believe. I plan to do right by her memory.”

“That’s really admirable,” he said genuinely. “I lost someone too, and I think it broke my faith. I admire anyone who can keep it.”

“I have to,” you replied. “My faith grounds me.”

----

It was your distinct differences in regards to loss and faith that drew you closer. Sam was consistently inspired by your ability to hold onto something so intangible as faith when you’d lost so much. After every mission, you all needed to decompress, and you decompressed in your own unique ways, but time and time again, the two of you spent your time together, watching bad movies, eating popcorn, playing pool – or more accurately kicking Sam’s ass at pool – but hey.

Though he’d lost his faith in God, you’d encouraged him not to lose faith all together, instead channeling that belief into something tangible. “What do you mean?”

“Well, faith is a shaky thing for some people. Because you can’t see it. What can you see? What can you see that you believe in?”

“This team. People. I believe in people.”

“Then that’s where your faith lies. You still have it; it’s just changed course.”

“How are you so wise?” He asked with a laugh.

“Just gifted, I suppose.” Leaning over, you kissed the underside of his chin. Somehow, through all this, you’d just found each other. There’d never been any official discussion of what you were to each other – you just knew. He was your best friend and confidant; the man you loved. Another blessing you were sure. There was no animosity between you and anyone else on the team; you got along with everyone, but you found solace in Sam, and he in you.

No one questioned it either. Not even Tony. Though he poked fun every now and then, which you would of course return, because he had Pepper. After a week without any action, you were almost starting to feel left out, until you, Sam, Nat and Steve were called on a mission.

At the rendezvous point, Fury briefed you on your mission. “Pieter Sidorov,” he said, looking straight toward Natasha. “You know him, right?”

“The Russian scientist and mass murderer? Yea, I’m familiar with his work. Rescue mission?”

“Extraction. We still don’t like the guy. He’s still a grade-A asshole. But after the fall of Hydra here, everyone left that’s loyal has gone into hiding. And Sidorov is aiding what’s left of Hydra within KGB airspace. I need the four of you to get him and bring him back. We need him alive.”

The four of you nodded simultaneously, your mission clear. With the help of a few still-trusted SHIELD pilots, you made your way into former KGB airspace. “Okay, what’s the game plan?” Sam asked, already outfitted in the new and improved EXO suit; Tony had made a few adjustments in the likely case one or both of the wings were damaged, so hopefully he would never be down for the count again. “Who the hell is this guy?”

“Pieter Sidorov is a fucking genius. When you have that kind of intelligence, you go one of two ways, good guy or the worst guy. Guess which Sidorov is?” Nat started. “Anyway, he has no superpowers himself. It’s his suit. He developed a suit that allows him to suck the powers, and essentially life, from other super-powered people.”

“What can he do?” You asked. “He’s just any regular guy without the suit, but with? What do we have to look forward to?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, rattling off the list of abilities the suit imbued him with – telekinesis and telepathy. “With, obviously, the added bonus of sucking whatever powers you and Steve have,” she said, tilting her chin toward you. “So if he’s got the suit, don’t get caught.”

“Thanks, Nat,” you laughed. “We go in teams of two, yea?”

Tony and Steve were your de facto leaders, so you all looked to Steve for your assignments. “Yea. Nat and I will infiltrate the right side, you and Sam go left. Nat will hack us into the system and shoot the map of the inside of the helicarrier to your watches. You might think we need the suit too, but we don’t. It’s programmed to work with his DNA. Without him the suit is useless. We take everyone out in our way and grab Sidorov, unharmed, and bring him back to Fury. From there –“ He hesitated. “From there, I don’t want to know what Fury’s gonna do with him.”

You trusted Fury, but he was definitely a scary man. “Me either.”

“All of us will leave the way Nat and I went in. Sam, make sure your wings are operational. The rest of us, make sure our parachutes are ready to go. As soon as the pilots make the drop off, they’re out. When we hit the ground, Nat has a way out.”

“What way?” Sam asked. “Car, bus, train?” She didn’t answer, her face showing no indication of releasing her secret. “Secret underground base?”

When she raised her eyebrow, you and Sam exclaimed at the same time. “Shut the fuck up.”

Smiling, Steve ensured that everyone had their orders. “Alright,” he said, turning toward you and Sam as the pilot pulled into the hellicarrier’s airspace. “See you two on the other side. Be careful.”

“You too, Cap,” you said quietly.

After Steve and Nat jumped onto the roof of the carrier and made their way inside, the pilots swung around the left, letting you and Sam out before speeding away under the cloak of night. “Back me up,” you said softly.

“Always.” Your back was to him but he spoke with a smile. “Ten o’clock.” Sam hid in the shadows as a man, presumably a guard, approached. Your size, and apparently boobs, always made men underestimate you, leaving you the perfect opportunity to slip them into a chokehold and wait until they passed out.

The moment the guard fell to the floor, Sam emerged from the dark hallway. “Have I told you how sexy that is?” He asked.

“Not now, Sam,” you laughed. “But yes. And please tell me more when we get the fuck out of here.”

Within a minute of knocking the guard out, Nat had uploaded the map to your watches. Unfortunately, it also alerted the entire crew on board to your presence. You figured that would happen. “Alright, stay at the ready,” Sam spoke. “How many people on this helicarrier?”

“About 500.”

“Fuckin wonderful.”

Quickly, you glanced down at the map on your watch, charting the quickest and easiest way to where they were keeping Sidorov. “Right in the middle. Great. They’re coming after us either way. Wanna stealth it or make an entrance?” You asked.

“Baby, do you even have to ask?” Sam laughed.

“Entrance it is.” As you charged forward, Sam followed your lead, handling any stragglers that happened to make it beyond your wall of fire. Those that didn’t run scared, fell victim to your wrath, dissolving into piles of ash snaking through the grates at your feet.

From the opposite end of the vessel, you heard the cacophony of screaming voices. Of course, Steve and Nat were holding their own just fine.

A nearly 300-pound, 6 foot tall Russian made his way past you. Big dude, but agile as hell. He’d assumed you were the strength out of you and Sam, disregarding him to try and take you out. But that was his mistake. As the man put you in a chokehold, Sam pulled out a knife, dropping down and slicing both of his Achilles before spin-kicking him in the face and over the railing. “Thanks, babe.”

“No problem. Let’s go. I want outta here.”

Your well-oiled machine moved swiftly through the maze-like hallways. You’d have a few cuts and bruises, but since joining the Avengers, that was pretty much Tuesday. As you approached the room where Sidorov was being kept, you made your silent prayers for the successful completion of this mission. You’d always prayed beforehand, in one way or another, but in the thick of it, you couldn’t help but offer up a few more silent prayers.

Melting the metal doors before you, Sam barreled past you and grabbed Sidorov, before running straight into Nat and Steve. Sidorov’s eyes sparked with a hint of recognition. “Natasha?”

“Aww, so sweet, you remember. You’re coming with us.”

Steve took the front lines of your escape route, using his shield to push over everyone in his way, while Nat and Sam handled the scientist and you kept an eye on your six. “You ready to jump?” You yelled, wind whipping your skin as Nat opened the door they’d entered. She pushed Sidorov out, sans parachute, and was followed quickly by Steve, leaving you and Sam to bring up the rear.

“Go!” Sam screamed.

Despite having jumped out of planes with the team before, it never got any easier. As you sailed through the air, you chanced a glance back and breathed a sigh of relief when you saw Sam jump too, only to watch a hook pierce the middle of his wings, ripping them off, and knocking him off balance. He spiraled in mid-air; you screamed into the wind, unable to do anything else but pray Tony’s upgrades kicked in.

Turning your attention toward the rapidly-increasing ground below, you waited for the right moment to deploy your parachute. When you ripped the cord, the parachute deployed, but apparently during your scuffle with the Russian guards, one of them had managed to slash it.

“Fuck!” Your heart raced as the ground approached, bracing for impact.

----

Sam panicked for a moment before his backup wings exploded out of the back of the EXO, giving him control once again. When he looked down, he saw his worst nightmare. “Not again. God, not again.” Y/N was fast approaching the earth with a slit parachute; she had a healing factor sure, but there would be nothing to heal if she pancaked into the pavement.

He retracted his wings and sped toward the ground, his hand stretched out in an attempt to grab her, the parachute, anything that might soften the fall. “Please God, don’t do this to me.”

Within a few hundred feet of the ground, he managed to grab her, only to have the chute make him lose his grip. For the second time in his life, Sam watched as someone he loved fell toward the unforgiving earth.

RECKLESS • A PUNK! TYRUS AU

Summary: 

RATED TEEN for smoking and swearing. 

TJ never expected to fall in love with a guy who hung out in the library for fun. Cyrus never expected to kiss a guy in the middle of a mosh pit. Once in a while, life surprises everybody. 

Chapter One: Respect The Tub

"Shut up. I'm having a mid-life crisis."

"You're twenty-one."

"Fine, an almost-quarter-life crisis or something, whatever."

"You know, I've seen you overreact before, but this time really takes the cake. Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Pfft. It's a great idea. The best idea I've ever had."

"You literally just said yourself that you're having a crisis."

TJ let out a long suffering sigh and glared at Marty. Andi snickered from where she was perched on the edge of the tub behind him. She had two gloved hands covered in bright red sludge buried deep in TJ's hair.

"Don't worry, Marts," she said. "I used to help Bex do her hair all the time when she got bored. Well… one time. If it goes wrong, we can just cut it off. Hair grows back usually."

"Usually?!" TJ spluttered, attempting to turn and face her only to be held in place by her firm grip.

Marty snorted. "Still sure about this?"

"Shut up, Marty. Jeez. You're worse than my mom."

"Hey, your shut your mouth about your mom. That woman is a saint. How she put up with your annoying all these years without committing murder, I’ll never know."

That earned him the bird and he snorted again, blowing smoke into T.J's face. The bathroom of their crappy apartment didn't have a smoke detector, which was probably the only reason Marty was even sat in the room with them. 

"Gross," Andi said with an appreciative smile. She might have stolen the cigarette for herself had her hands not been busy. TJ wrinkled his nose at the two of them. He wouldn't say anything, it hadn't worked the first thousand times and it wouldn't work now, but he had learned that if he made enough disgusted faces Marty would eventually put the cigarettes away.

"Whatever," he rolled his eyes at TJ's face and stubbed it out in the sink. "I'm meant to be quitting anyway. I promised Buffy."

"You made that promise like three months ago."

"Well I gotta have at least one flaw, otherwise it wouldn't be fair to you mere mortals, would it now?" Marty grinned and stood up, stretching his arms up until his back gave a satisfying click. 

"Careful bro," TJ said. "If your head gets any bigger you won't be able to get out of the door."

It was Marty's turn to cheerfully flip him off. As he wandered out of the bathroom he called over his shoulder asking if they wanted any snacks, even though TJ was pretty sure he knew they only had ketchup and coffee left in the kitchen.

"So, this mid-life crisis of yours," Andi said, slipping some more dye on to TJ's head. It slid against his scalp cold and unpleasant, dripping down his neck in a wet mess. "You think Epic Death Red is gonna fix it?"

He considered this for a moment. The brand name was splashed bright and obvious on the bottle, and it glared at him from the sink. It had made them laugh at the time, but now it was in his hair it felt a little daunting. "Nah, probably not. But it'll make me feel better about it, feels productive."

"Turning in your assignments would probably feel more productive."

"Hey, I thought we banned school talk from the tub. The tub rules are sacred. Respect the tub."

"I'm just saying-"

"Did you finish your figure drawing assignment yet?"

"...touché."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. After a few minutes, Marty loped back in holding a paper plate with an unwrapped Twinkie carefully cut into three pieces on it. Andi let him shove a piece unceremoniously into her mouth without a word.

It had become a sort of tradition. Well... not a tradition. TJ didn't know what you would call it. A habit maybe? Anyways, it had become usual for the three of them to hang out in the bathroom. Sometimes they'd be joined by friends and roommates. Two or three of them cramped in the tub, maybe splitting a bottle of cheap wine between them all, with someone else balanced on the toilet seat and another sprawled across the floor. But today, everyone else was out at work or class or living their life in some tub-free environment.

It was only TJ and Marty that lived in the apartment of the three of them. They had two other roommates, Walker and Jonah, who were pretty decent guys. Walker was an art major like Andi and Jonah had awesome taste in music. Sometimes he and TJ would walk to campus together, they were both based in the music department, but other than that and a shared interest in sports and skateboards they didn't really have anything in common. Buffy, Marty's girlfriend and (by apparent coincidence) Andi's childhood best friend with whom she was now reconnecting, would sometimes swing by to join them too. However, her disgust at  just how useless four boys could be at keeping their apartment in order mostly kept her at bay. Old take-out containers were not part of her ‘aesthetic’ or whatever. TJ was never sure if he was glad about that or not, the two of them spent most of the time squabbling, but she did make Marty happy and it was hard not to be cheerful when Marty was.

"So I had this dream right," TJ said. 

"Oh God."

"No, it's good right. Because it made me, like, realise I should be doing something."

Andi and Marty exchanged amused looks. They were used to it, TJ's various whims and impulses and Important Decisions About The Future That Usually Turned Out To Be Not So Important. They found it funny. TJ might be offended if it weren't for the fact he had listened to them spout of conspiracy theories more times than he could count.

"Go on," Andi prompted. 

"Okay, so like... I'm standing on this cliff, right? Like on the very very edge of it. And I'm staring out to sea all dramatic and shit, and then suddenly it gives way underneath me, right? And I'm falling and falling, and I look down and there's just like... nothing there."

Another pause. "...and that's it?"

"That's it. That's the dream."

"Okay, lay it out for me. How did you go from falling off a cliff to dyeing your hair red? Give me the logic. I wanna follow your train of thought here."

He takes a deep breath, trying to shake away the lightheadedness the mingling scents of cigarettes and ammonia is bringing on, then twists around to face her.

"When you're falling to your death you're supposed to reminisce about, like, all the good shit you did in your life before you fall to your death right? And for me it was a total blank. Like nothing. Like I haven't lived."

Marty groaned. "Not this again."

"What?"

"You have this same crisis like every other month. Last time you wanted to 'live your life' we got arrested for trespassing on private property."

"Well, if you had run faster-"

"Fuck you! I run faster than you, asshole. It's not my fault there were literal guard dogs-"

"Guys!" Andi interrupted before they could really get going. They both muttered half hearted apologies with a huff. Marty sighed and leaned back, stretching his legs up to rest on the edge of the bath.

"The point is," TJ resumed, knocking Marty’s foot away from his face. "The point is that I've done, like, zero important things in my life. And we're adults now, y'know? I can't just bum around doing nothing forever. I wanna do something that matters."

Andi rolled her eyes. "'Adult' is a strong word for a guy who just this week learned what fabric softener is."

"I never claimed to be Martha Stewart."

Marty laughed. "You're criminal enough to be."

"Okay but," Andi said, before another bickering match could spark up. "The real point is... we're only in our twenties. Pretty sure we're not meant to have everything figured out yet, right? I mean, we haven't even graduated yet."

TJ and Marty both hissed.

"The G word is also banned, remember?"

Andi made a face, but didn't press the point. She hated thinking about the future just as much as the guys did. None of them knew what they wanted to do. They spent all their time in sleazy bars moshing to terrible local bands, getting drunk in a moulding tub and watching Andi paint in the student studios. TJ couldn't imagine any of them with nine-to-five jobs, commuting or working for some big evil corporation. He said as much.

"It's two thousand and five," Marty complained in response. "We should totally have robots to do all the boring jobs by now."

TJ agreed. How could humanity not yet be at the point where they had hover boards and flying cars? They had the internet for crying out loud. The possibilities were endless.

"So what're you gonna do?" Andi asked. “How are you, TJ Kippen, going to change the world?

TJ pondered this for a moment. 

"I'm gonna start a band."

*

Sometimes Cyrus seriously hated his friends.

Not in an actual 'I wish I didn't know you' way but in an 'oh man, you suck so hard right now' kind of way. Tonight was one of those times. He would never say that to them, of course, he had no desire to hurt anybody’s feelings, but a little mental cursing never hurt anyone.

He shivered and pulled his jacket tighter around himself. Rain smattered down on the concrete around him. Water seeped through the canvas of his sneakers, soaking his socks and mood both at once. He was cold, wet and fed up. Buffy had asked him to meet her here, outside some dingy rock club filled with scary kids wearing studs and too much makeup, but she was nowhere to be found. She had answered her phone when he called, but the line mostly crackled and all he got was a muffled "-inside" from here.

Whatever. It was fine. It was totally cool that he was stuck out here being eyed by suspicious punks in leather jackets and scary scene kids with scary scene hair. It was great. He could totally cope with the fact that the bouncer wouldn't let him in because he forgot his I.D. and apparently he looked like he was twelve years old. Totally, totally fine. Really, it couldn’t get any worse.

It was as if the universe had heard this very thought and decided to have the last laugh. A large truck roared down the street, sending a fresh wave of freezing water over his legs and shoes. 

Screw this. He was going home.

He hadn't even wanted to come out in the first place. He should be back in his nice cosy dorm room, preferably doing the lit assignment he had due in on Monday, maybe wrapped in a blanket. Two blankets, even. Yeah, his dorm sounded pretty great right now, even if he did have the roommate from hell. Fate had other plans, though. Right as he made the decision to head back, he heard his name being called. Turning, he saw Buffy waving frantically from the door. Huffing to himself, he turned back again and headed to meet her.

"He's with me," Buffy said with a smile to the bouncer. The guy looked doubtful as Cyrus slipped passed, but he didn't question it again. 

"The reception is really bad in here," Buffy said apologetically, pulling him into a sideways hug. "But you found the place okay, right? I mean you're here, so that's good. I didn't think you'd come. I’m glad you did.”

She seemed unusually antsy, and he suspected she was a little nervous about introducing him to her friends. He would be nervous too if he was her, he knew he wasn’t much, especially to a group of cool and interesting people. He decided it was best not to tell her that he almost didn't come. He had been perfectly ready to stay in his dorm all night, even though it was a Friday night and he had little to no social life at the current moment in time with all the work his professors had been throwing at him. Except, Roommate-From-Hell-Reed had come banging into the room, all but yelling into his cellphone to some girl. Cyrus had been able to stand it for about ten minutes, and then he got tired of hearing the word "baby". A night at some dive being shoved around by sweaty drunks wasn't much of an improvement, but at least he didn't have to listen to Reed's obnoxious flirting. 

"It's good you came," Buffy continued. "You don’t get out enough. I think you'll like the band too, and they're friends with Andi and Marty. They’re pretty good - I mean, TJ is a little obnoxious, but they’ve already got a big following on MySpace, and they’re close to getting a deal with Cranked...” Cyrus let her pull him through the crowd, nodding in all the right places but struggling to keep up. Who was TJ? Cranked? What was that? He felt like she was speaking another language. “

They've even got some songs recorded now... did you know Gus- you know Gus Knight? He works at the dining hall. Apparently he’s local and has this whole studio set up in his mom’s basement. He has all the equipment and everything. It's crazy.”

"Crazy," Cyrus agreed, narrowly avoiding getting elbowed by a teary girl gesturing wildly at a boy that looked too out of it to be taking in what she said. The whole arena smelled like puked. He prayed that none got on him. "So when are these Cranked guys meant to go on?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Cranked is a record label, Cy. The band’s called Conduit For Gods.”

The problem was not that Cyrus wasn’t into music. He liked music. He thought it was fun, especially if you could sing bad karaoke to it, and who didn't like to listen to their iPod on the bus? But Buffy's friends' world seemed to revolve around music, more specifically punk music, and the whole scene that came with it. He had accepted a few of their invitations to hang out just to be polite, but most of them involved parties and shows. Parties and shows meant drinking and coming home with wild stories. Cyrus wasn’t a wild stories kind of guy.

As a kid, he had really wanted to be a wild stories kind of guy. He’d longed to be one of the popular kids who knew how to make friends with everybody, who was never bored on a Friday night and wasn’t totally invisible. He had never succeeded in becoming that kind of guy. Even at college, where he'd figured it would be easy. All the television shows and magazines had made it seem like that was what you were meant to do in college - party and drink. Become your own person. Become interesting. 

What he'd learned from actually being in college? He didn't like to party and drink. He had no problem with other people doing it, obviously, but he'd rather he was far away from them while they did. Drunk people had a habit of throwing up on him, and in crowds like this Cyrus had lost his shoe more than once. They might be drenched in grimy rainwater, but tonight he felt like keeping his shoes firmly on his feet. Preferably not covered in somebody's dinner. The other thing he’d learned was that he didn’t really vibe with the whole alternative music scene... or it didn’t vibe with him. He liked things neat and non-violent. In his experience, college-aged punks liked things sweaty and aggressive. Sometimes with a hint of insane thrown in. It’s not like it scared him or anything, he just didn’t want to die in a mosh pit.

“They’re on at ten. You want me to grab you a drink? I got us a table - I know you don’t like being in the crowd.”

He gave her a grateful smile, forgiving and forgetting the last half an hour in one fell swoop. Buffy was a really good friend not just sometimes, but all the time, even if she did make him hang out with scary people that wore studs and eyeliner. She always respected his boundaries.

As she disappeared towards the bar, he meandered his way over to the table she’d pointed out to him. There were a couple of bags and jackets strewn across the booth’s seats, but no people present. Scanning the crowd, he managed to spot Marty and Andi stood off to the side with a couple of other people. Andi caught his eye and waved him over, but he shook his head. She rolled her eyes, but smiled and sent him a thumbs up anyway. He smiled back.

Andi was a nice girl. A cool girl. She wore her hair cropped short and spiky, had a leather jacket with her name painted artfully across the back and her skin was constantly smudged with paint or coal or glue from her art projects. She’d known Buffy forever, and Cyrus was still surprised someone as cool as her was willing to hang out with a loser like him. It was the same with Buffy, honestly. He was always one step behind the laughter and she was the one making people laugh. Once, he’d made the mistake of voicing these thoughts out loud and Buffy had smacked him over the head with a copy of Rolling Stone, telling him he was being stupid and that he was cool. He knew she was lying, but he appreciated the lie anyway. 

A figure loomed over him and he turned.

“That was quick,” he started to say, but the words died on his lips. It wasn’t Buffy.

“Um, hi,” Said the most beautiful boy in the history of all existence.

Bright red hair. Green eyes ringed in black. Torn up denim jacket over plaid over faded t-shirt. Cyrus mentally catalogued all of these things and tried to unstick his tongue from where it seemed to be stuck to the roof of his mouth. He wasn’t sure what to do. How did English work again? What were words?

In the end, he stuck one awkward hand out before he could stop himself and stuttered out a greeted. The guy took it with a warm smile and shook. 

“I’m Cyrus,” Cyrus finally managed to say.

Understanding dawned on the guy’s face. “Oh, you’re Buffy’s friend. That’s cool. I’m TJ, Marty’s roommate,” he jerked a thumb back towards the crowd. Much to Cyrus’ horror, he realised Andi and Marty were watching them with interest. He dropped TJ’s hand quickly. “I was just grabbing the keys to the van, could you pass me that bag?”

Cyrus did as asked, expecting TJ to take it and flee from the obviously crazy person who had just shaken his hand like they were at some sort of business meeting instead of a nightclub, but he didn’t move from where he was standing. Instead, he rummaged through the bag for a second and then withdraw a set of car keys and dumped it back on the table. Turning, he signalled to one of the guys in the crowd and launched the keys through the crowd. 

“So are you sticking around after the show?” TJ said, turning back to Cyrus with a curious smile. 

No. Cyrus was going to go home and shower at least twice then snuggle up in bed and get a good night’s sleep where nobody could accidentally spill a suspicious substance on his nice clean pants.

“Yeah, I think so,” is what came out of Cyrus’ mouth.

“Awesome,” TJ grinned, the thousand-watt smile disarming Cyrus once again. “Well, I gotta scoot, ‘cause it’s my band…”

“Oh! You’re in Condu-whatsit?”

“Conduit For Gods,” he laughed. “Yeah, I’m the singer.”

Oh great, a cute guy in a band. Just what Cyrus needed to make this interaction less intimidating.

“Break a leg?” He offered.

He didn’t know if he was imagining it or not (probably) but TJ looked a little reluctant to go, but after a moment he flashed him another smile and departed. Cyrus resisted the urge to bang his head on the table and berated himself for not being able to hold a conversation like a normal person. Oh man, he had made himself look like a total idiot. Luckily, Buffy returned not long after, and he drowned his sorrows in his drink. 

*

“Okay, not to be dramatic but we have to play the best show we’ve ever played tonight,” TJ said, speeding over to Jonah behind the stage.

Jonah looked up from tuning his guitar in surprise. “I thought the label weren’t seeing us ‘til next week?”

“It’s not a rep,” he shook his head and sighed as dramatically as he could manage. “I just met the most amazing guy I’ve ever seen and I’m pretty sure we’re soulmates, so we have to impress him, okay?”

“Soulmates, huh?” Jonah grinned. “Do you even know this guy’s name?”

“Cyrus.”

“Cyrus? As in Buffy’s Cyrus?”

“That’s the one.”

“Okay, man. If you say so.”

The stage fright seemed twice as intense as usual as TJ clicked the microphone on. Through the glare of the lights and the packed room he could barely make out the table tucked away in the corner where Cyrus was sat. The crowd roared back as he greeted them, and it felt like the entire room exploded into life as the boys launched into the first song. For the first time ever, TJ worried less about cracking a rib as he surfed across the top of the crowd and more about how exactly he was going to ask Cyrus for his number without sounding weird. 

But by the time the show was over and TJ was drenched in his own sweat while blood dripped down from his nose from where someone had accidentally hit him in the face during the last song, Cyrus was nowhere to be found, and the question of the phone number became obsolete. 

A/W 2020 Fashion Month: Before Vogue Went Blank (Part 2)

Hi to anyone reading,

I was going to start this post by jumping straight into Dion Lee and part 2 in general but there's been a lot going on the past couple of days-although this blog is primarily fashion, it wouldn’t feel right to start talking about designers without acknowledging all the shit that’s been going down.

^Photo Credit to @spiltcoco on Twitter

Yesterday, police footage came out of US police murdering yet another black man in broad daylight-George Floyd. He joins Sandra Bland, Eric Garner, Tamir Rice, Freddie Gray, and Alton Sterling, plus hundreds more named and god knows how many more unnamed African American citizens in the ever-growing list of victims of police brutality.

The majority of these are just people going about their daily lives, a majority of them doing absolutely nothing wrong; even those we know to have committed crimes have been unarmed and non-violent offenders. That being said, their offences are beside the point when we’ve seen the white perpetrators of mass shootings be calmly cuffed and escorted into the backs of police cars as if they were the ones selling cigarettes without permits. American police, given the amount of them that are armed, regularly become judge, jury and executioner trained for 8 weeks by an institution that originated from slave patrols. I cannot imagine how terrifying it is just to walk around as a PoC in America. I cannot imagine the collective trauma that has been suffered because of recent events on top of the intergenerational trauma that most likely exists because of centuries of oppression. I cannot imagine what it’s like to live in a country that was built to suppress you and was by law allowed to do so until very recently, those original structures still in place. I cannot imagine what it’s like to be made to feel like this is your fault. I mean, Boris Johnson is a useless, cold-hearted twat and I won’t defend him or this country for a minute (we have much blood on our own hands, and racial profiling is just as much a thing here as it is in America-I read earlier that you’re 28 times more likely to be stopped and searched in London as a non-white person compared to a white person), but I still can’t imagine him publicly advocating for the mass murder of groups he knows to be primarily made up of black people via Twitter. This whole situation is so unimaginably fucked up; anyone who still sees America as one of the world’s most developed nations needs to take a long, hard look at what is going on and reconsider that opinion.

Whilst we can’t fix everything, we can all speak up and make our voices heard, and it is our duty to do so. It’s not good enough to just “not be racist”, you have to be ANTI-racism, even if that means constantly reflecting on your own privilege and challenging your assumptions. Neutrality is complicity. Signing a petition isn’t going to change the world, but it’s a start:

https://www.change.org/p/mayor-jacob-frey-justice-for-george-floyd?recruiter=false&utm_source=share_petition&utm_medium=twitter&utm_campaign=psf_combo_share_initial&utm_term=psf_combo_share_abi&recruited_by_id=7ba70000-a127-11ea-87fb-d1ff0bf6ea96

As I publish this, there’s less than 50,000 signatures needed to hit the target of 6,000,000 so if you happen to see it, get signing! There are lots of other petitions online but Change.org seems to be the only major one you can sign in the UK as the other are US based and require a zip code. I never thought I’d close a paragraph by quoting Macklemore but the line “no freedom 'til we're equal, damn right I support it” is at the forefront of my mind right now. Again, neutrality is complicity. We’re never going to achieve a fair society by sitting on our asses and hoping things will improve. Let’s all do the best we can.

Sorry if that intro wasn’t what you came here for, but I just think it’s so important to talk about. I know I’ve said in the past that fashion is supposed to be an escape from everyday life but there are some times when real life needs our attention and this is one of them. Feel free to unfollow if you disagree.

Anyway, onto the fashion. If this is the first post you’re reading, welcome! There’s a part 1! But I don’t wanna be pushy so start here if you wish!

If you read part 1, welcome back! 

I ended that post by practically falling at the feet of Dilara Findikoglu, and I so wanted to start this post by regaining a sense of dignity and go straight into what-the-fuck-ing at Dior, but I know breaking chronological order would really piss off those “OmG I’m SoOo OCD, tHis BuzZfeEd aRtiCle WiTh DiFfereNt SiZed TiLes ToLd Me!” which is basically me minus claiming liking things to be organised means I have OCD-no, just dermatillomania and the denial that a compulsive skin picking disorder has anything to do with OCD because the neuroses club that is my brain doesn’t have any space left. SO, I have to continue where I left off and star the post with Dion Lee, whose collections I am a big fan of.

I could ramble a bit more but I did enough of that at the beginning of part 1 and am sure I’ll do more than enough in this post anyway, so here it is, Dion Lee:

Considering we ended with the maximalism of Dilara Findikoglu, sliding back over towards the other far end of the scale with a designer that tends to pitch their tent on the borders of the minimalism camp feels correct. Dion Lee, fortunately, seems the perfect collection to open with. There aren’t many other brands who do edge in such an understated and masterful way. If you want to be ready for combat and look like you’d fit right in at Vogue at the same time, look no further. This season’s collection is full of perfectly placed cut outs and immaculate tailoring and subtle street fighter-esque details as ever, and that’s why it pains me to say it:

Not that this is enough in the way of critique to restore my dignity by any means, it’s not a patch on last season.

I don’t think there was a single bad look in that show, and at times it felt like I was weeding through them here. When the looks were good, they were GOOD but a lot I found to be disappointing. Plus I have no idea why you’d put tie-dye in an A/W collection. I appreciate that it’s an Australian brand and that our winter is their summer, but they’re presenting to the rest of the world at fashion week and anyone in Paris, Milan, London and New York is going to be freezing their tits off and looking like a twat in an orange tie-dye sundress. There wasn’t much of a dip in quality for the menswear compared to last season, but honestly womenswear left a lot to be desired. That’s what happens when your expectations are high.

I used to think that if you assume the worst, it’s impossible to feel let down. And then I saw Dior’s A/W 2020 collection. Did a full 180 on that statement.

I suppose it’s a step up from haute couture, but then at least the styling in that was simple, and it just didn’t look like anybody had tried at all; here it’s clear Maria Grazia chucked everything she could at this collection, every headscarf, every gingham print, every shallow feminist undertone, and it was still a fucking mess. At first you think some of the individual pieces are cute but have just been ruined by the styling, and then you begin to look, and realise that even those individual pieces could’ve easily been bought in a New Look Boxing Day sale.

THIS IS CHRISTIAN DIOR, SUPPOSEDLY ONE OF THE MOST LUXURIOUS BRANDS OUT THERE. WHAT IS GOING ON!? 

I don’t know, I included as many looks that I didn't mind as I could, but it’s like there always has to be a crappy, unnecessary detail in there. Everything is so literal. Of course the collection based around the divine feminine has the models dressed like basic ass Greek goddesses, so of course the collection based around the modern woman and equality has women walking the runway in ties and ill-fitting shoes too. Maria Grazia, here is a box:

Think outside of it. 

Next is, thankfully, Elie Saab:

No, not exactly a trailblazer of a collection, but executed with poise and elegance as always. I mean, the styling is spot on. It looks like each part of the outfit was made for another, to contribute to a whole clearly envisioned look, similar to what we saw in the Alberta Ferretti show. Elie Saab is known for its haute couture shows where all the tiny details, the sequins and the silk and the embroidery come together to make something beautiful, and this is just that on a larger scale, with less “wow”s and more quiet admiration, more wishing you were the one wearing that outfit. If you’re gonna play safe, do it this well. The night dresses are stunning of course, but not even my favourite bit of the show. It’s the casual looks, the pussy bows and the ruffles and the neck scarfs and the private girls school monochrome colour palette with the occasional pop of red or purple, a toned down version of what we saw at haute couture, any of which deserve to be worn whilst eating macarons in front of the Eiffel Tower before trip to Musee D’Orsay. It’s Poppy Moore’s school uniform grown up and made fit for a fashion magazine editor:

Somehow managing to cram an Emma Roberts early 2010s fashion moment into every post is my talent, who knew. Wild Child was really a gem.

Erdem was a mixed bag:

With a lot of the outfits, I can’t tell if I actually like the garments that much or if I just like the look as a whole. I mean, without sounding too gluten-free Callie from the Valley, I like the VIBE, but there was a lot of outfits I almost included before I had to ask myself “LAUREN, do you ACTUALLY like this or do you just like the walking-into-your-sugar-daddy’s-will-reading-to-claim-his-fortune DRAMA of it all!?” 

It happened a couple of times, where once I took off my black and white, theatrical violin accompanied entrance filtered sunglasses, I realised that the actual print was ugly. A collection so cohesively ornamental and kitschy is going to lean too far into that at times, and they were a few overly-fussy moments where it seemed less nudge nudge wink wink and more like Erdem Moralıoğlu fell into his grandma’s wardrobe, stole some fabric, and called it a day. I don’t want to sound like I’m not a fan of the collection because overall it’s gorgeous, I just thought it was a bit much at times.

Continuing with the theme of clever seasonal continuity that weaved its way throughout this year’s A/W offerings, Ermanno Scervino kept the core of his summer collection and made it just that little bit darker, added some weight to everything, and this is one of the rare occasions where I like the winter incarnation a lot more. I’m not huge about either but there’s a lot of things I’d love to wear here, the coats especially.

Up next is a reliable favourite of mine: 

Etro.

Was it REALLY necessary for you to include ALL those coats I hear you ask?

Alaska Thunderfuck as Gia Gunn voice: Absolutelyyyy.

When it comes to bohemian fashion, Etro is unbeaten. Everything is always exquisitely coordinated and styled. Like I usually fucking hate aztec print but I love the way it’s done here. I’ve never known a brand to make belts seem like such an integral, tasteful part of the outfit in a field where they so often seem like a last minute addition for the sake of accessorising; it pains me to say it, but Elie Saab, I’m looking at you. It’s your only fault. 

Yes for bringing back embroidered jeans! Yes for all those high necks! Yes for the tapestry print! Yes for the Afghan waistcoats! Etro will keep fedoras cool forever and I love them for that; I don’t know if she ever actually wore any of their stuff but I just know Stevie Nicks was in her prime would’ve ate this shit UP and she is my style icon for the ages. Plus, I might be way off base here but a lot of the collection seems to be inspired by traditional Romani style and it’s a beautiful direction to take things, a treasure trove of layers upon layers and rich textures and opulent prints.

I can’t wait til the phase of my phase of my life where I can swan around in maxi dresses and ponchos. I just hope those maxi dresses and ponchos are Etro.

Onto another brand which hasn’t had a bad show since I started my reviews: Fendi. This season, they took their late 60s/early 70s wild child aesthetic and gave a millionaire’s high maintenance wife spin on it, and what’s not to like about that? 

I mean, Fendi is a brand which is always going to excel in its F/W presentations-the rich, bohemian prints (pro-tip: if you can’t already tell, me mentioning the word bohemian in a review pretty much guarantees I like the collection), the furs, and the warm colour palette all perfectly translate into clothes suited for walks through a city going through a post-summer burnout, where it rains red and orange leaves. You can tell Silvia Fendi is in her element when she’s got texture to play with, something that comes across in the gorgeous coats Fendi consistently puts out, and this season continues that trend. Plus, there’s a lot of adorable details here-shoes that show off the decorative socks underneath, the cube shaped bags and those furry ear muffs which I hope bring about a high street muff renaissance because they’re the equivalent of slipper socks for my ears and THEY’RE ACTUALLY REALLY PRACTICAL. The only thing I’m not in love with is the mirrored glasses, and I can’t help but think how replacing them with a pair of grandad style aviators would be the icing on the cake for the collection. Maybe I just need to see Miss Robyn Rihanna Fenty wearing them and then I’ll get on board. Usually works.

Ah, GCDS. I got so excited for it after last season but this time round, it was a bit of a disappointment. There were a few outfits that semi-matched up to how cutting-edge I saw their last collection, however a lot of the pieces looked pretty low quality. I get that streetwear is in the name, but it’s supposed to be a high fashion take on that, and a lot of the looks were quite pedestrian. Stand outs are the top 2 rows and the leather motocross style jumpsuit on the far right, third row down, but the quality of these pieces wasn’t consistent across the board and I feel like I ended up having to convince myself I liked some of the others just so I had enough photos to justify including the brand. It really sucks when I look back on how ahead of the game last season’s collection was-we’re talking outfits that wouldn’t be out of place on Instagram’s Tokyofashion page and as far as I’m concerned that’s the fashion holy grail. Some of these looks, especially the menswear, could be from a Boohoo TV ad and that makes me sad.

Meanwhile, Giambattista Valli put out a collection that looked like a virtual postcard of Parisian fashion; if a St-Germain-des-Prés streetwear themed Instagram doesn’t exist already, someone should capitalise on that, stat, because if my typical vision of French feminine fashion is correct it would be full of outfits like this. I feel like this is what a fashion novice EXPECTS Chanel to look like. Trust me-these days the reality is much more disappointing.

There’s many things I'm happy to see here besides the tulle and florals and prettiness I expect of the brand. Obviously the berets and the bows and the elbow length gloves are the kind of off-duty ballerina style touches I’ve become accustomed to but there are also some nice surprises here: the military style white jacket, the unexpected snake motif on clothing that’s otherwise overly delicate, and to my delight the return of the boater hat. IDGAF, this is the summer where I’m buying myself one off Ebay and making this happen for me whether they become a “thing” or not. I shouldn’t squander having this little of a double chin; the opportunity may never present itself again. 

I haven’t watched Killing Eve in a longggg time since there’s only so much of two women attempting to kill each other and then miraculously avoiding death you can watch but I’d love to see Vilanelle prancing round a city in this kinda shit slitting some necks again. I hope that doesn’t make me sound like too much of a sadist; only in a purely fictional world is this something I want to see, I assure you.

Givenchy was really, really great this season too, imo. Definitely a step up from the last RTW anyway. Aside from the drama of the exaggerated floppy brim hats and the quirky tassle detail dresses a la Schiaparelli, a lot of these outfits kinda remind me of something a Miranda Priestly/Cruella De Vil type would wear, and you know me; I’m all for that kind of intimidating, about-to-either-slap-you-or-fire-your-ass bad bitch energy. The gathered leather gloves with the androgynous subtly checkered power suits feels CORRECT and if Giambattista Valli is the bottom in this relationship, Givenchy is the top. Am I allowed to reinforce sapphic relationship stereotypes as a bi girl? Probably not. I’m sorry. Won’t do it again. Just this once. And you know I’m right really xoxo

And OMFG Gucci. Another impeccable collection for me, honestly. Once again, it’s probably my favourite of the season. How it is that Alessandro Michelle gets it SO right for me despite his vision being so bold and different every time? He has this specific brand of strange, conceptual beauty which blends past and present trends in a way so supreme it should be considered art. It’s not a term to throw around loosely but the man is a genius, and tbh I’m still not over the human head props from the 2018 F/W winter show.

In my Haute Couture week review, I talked about the Viktor and Rolf collection (which I loved, don’t get me wrong!) and said that pretty meets grunge is my fave thing ever-this is that, but much even more substantial and intelligent. The Wes Anderson-esque pieces or that late 60s/early 70s hipster aesthetic that I loved in last season’s show hasn’t been done away with either-be it the level of detail or the colour scheme, it all somehow fits together. Never did I think I’d see dresses fit for porcelain dolls through the lens of Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen seamlessly slotted in between outfits that could’ve been put together from the clothing rack of Dazed and Confused’s costume department. I want it all-opulent fur-trimmed coats, crucifix jewellery and pilgrim hats I’m sure both Edgar Allan Poe and modern goths would approve of, and the tiered skirts that wouldn’t be out of place in a Westworld saloon. The models were delightfully sad and almost creepy looking and I wouldn’t change that for the world. To say 10/10 doesn’t do it justice, so I’m gonna have to open a reviewer’s can of worms and say 100/100.

Gucci is a tough act to follow, and I’m sorry it has to fall onto the shoulders of Halpern. In the nicest possible way (as if there is any nice way of saying it), I don’t think I any expected anything but a downgrade, so if anything, my standards will be lower so...Michael Halpern, you can thank me I guess? 

That was really mean, I’m sorry. It’s not a bad collection, and I definitely like it more than last season’s. It’s a slightly garish colour palette at times but an exciting one in spite of that, which when paired with the animal print dotted throughout makes this collection the perfect fit for a tropical beach party or at the very least, a semi-decent night at the Caribbean themed bar in your local town centre. The sequins and silk, a Halpern trademark, are as tastefully done as ever, and seeing them on the models, I can’t deny these are some power fits-the kind of clothes you are bound to look and feel confident in; if you wanted to play queen of the urban jungle for a night, this is what you need to be wearing.

Ah, Hermes.

Generally not one to stoke a fire inside me. In all fairness, the tailoring here is really, really nice and French biker chic, and the pieces are perfectly crafted-it’s not that I don’t like the outfits because I think that if I saw one of them individually in a natural, messier setting I’d probably be impressed. These are classy, elegant winter looks and what more could you want when you’re looking for outfit inspiration for this season? It’s just that it’s always a little too neat and uniform for me, and on the runway I like my fashion to be risky. This could almost be the sophisticated mother to a Tommy Hilfiger collection and whilst that’s something I would probably wear if I wanted to look put together, it’s not what you get excited to see at fashion week. Primary colours all together aren’t where it’s at for me either, the infamous colour scheme of the cheap plastic playhouses you’d find in the garden of every working/middle class British household back in the day. Yes, I had one. So did the after school club I was forced to attend whilst my mum was at work. Apparently the negative connotations are still too much for me (a boy I went to the after school club with did once fall off the back of one and crack his head open so maybe it’s justified).

Isabel Marant was pretty much exactly what you’d expect from Isabel Marant; if the Etro bohemian woman is one who rolls out of bed and chucks on the first thing she sees, the Isabel Marant bohemian woman is the one who claims she’s done the same thing but who actually planned it all out the night before. She designs for the gluten-free, bikram yoga Kourtney Kardashian style “hippy” who claims to be a free-spirit but would definitely not do acid with you. I was gonna say it was a collection for the Gwyneth Paltrows of the world but then I remembered Gwyneth proudly released a candle she claimed smelled like her vagina and changed my mind-she’d definitely do acid with you. 

It’s definitely a cohesive transition from the summer collection; both have that seemingly laid-back, clean-cut vibe, and cater to the rich, impeccably groomed scented candle loving woman everywhere. Obviously the pieces are a tad more suited to an alpine lodge in Switzerland than a beach in Malibu this time round, but that same mild colour palette, pretty, naturalistic patterns, and generally relaxed fit persists. It’s cute enough.

J.W Anderson is a bit of an enigma.

Despite the experimental silhouettes and the kooky details that you think would very “look at me!”, the collections still seem to have a chilled, easy-going feel to them. They toy about with the strange but remain entirely sophisticated whilst doing so-I think it’s because aside from the little quirks that make the garments J.W Anderson, they’re otherwise fairly reserved and simple; even the quirks themselves mostly tend to be exaggerated, more conceptual takes on more typical stylistic motifs anyway. Anderson has a knack for producing statement pieces that don’t look like they’re trying too hard to be statement pieces, a talent he expertly deploys at Loewe as well. Whilst Maison Margiela collections are like the fashion equivalent of that Jughead “I’m weird, I’m a weirdo” speech, J.W Anderson’s refusal to conform is quiet and modest. I like it. It’s not generally my personal style but I can admire the thought behind the work, and there are still some things I’d love to try. I have a few standouts-the shoes with the hoop detailing dancing from the ankle straps, the dress on the bottom right with what appears to be art nouveau typography on, the trench coat with the cape detailing and the gossamer dress to its right are all stunning, especially that dress. If I ever want to dress as the bubble Glinda the Good Witch descends in when she meets Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, I know where to go, though I don’t suppose there’s going to be an occasion that calls for that any time soon. Can I just have the dress anyway?

Kim Shui is another new designer I found through blessed Twitter screencaps-thanks guys for doing my research for me. Much appreciated.

But anyways! Like Charlotte Knowles, it’s clear she’s still establishing her aesthetic as a designer, and thus far I love it. The whimsical, throwback prints on urban silhouettes that range from the androgynous suits of city dwelling cool girls to the amped-up sex appeal of nightclub dresses is gorgeous, especially twinned with dainty headscarfs and opera gloves-all in all I think this a very cool and wearable collection and I’m looking forward to the next collection she puts out.

Next up is Lacoste, and IDK why I always include their collections to be honest, considering they’re not really known for “high fashion”. I guess it’s because my dad has collected Lacoste shirts since I was little so I kinda have a soft spot for it and feel obligated to include it every time presentation season comes around. Yes, the outfits are unbearably preppy and the colours are garish but I feel like that’s kind of the appeal? So what if some of the tracksuits look like they could’ve been pulled out of a bad mafia movie? I see the argyle jumpers, with a bit of wear and tear, as a charity shop gem my sister would come across (she has the #Y2K Depop girl knack for finding old designer pieces in the shittiest charity shops without the audacity to try and sell them at a 70% markup) that I would then steal from her wardrobe to wear myself, contrasted with a ripped mini skirt, chains and and docs. I see the POTENTIAL of a look that is very fuck you to the rich middle age tory styling we see here. It’s punk, okay?

Lanvin was STUNNING this time around. Maybe it’s because I’ve been watching Mad Men recently and it reminds me of the fashion on that-which I hope somebody won an award for at the time BTW, it is SO fucking good-but I just adore every look here. I can’t even remember if I reviewed Lanvin’s SS20 show, and so clearly if I did it wasn’t that memorable (no shade intended), however this collection is a different story. Every single one of these outfits is iconic movie moment worthy, a 60s Cher Horowitz plaid two piece equivalent that would get screencapped and replicated ad-nauseam, all the best looks of Betty Draper and Peggy Olsen and Joan Holloway and Megan Calvet brought together and refined for the modern day woman. I might even consider sacrificing my anti-royalist principles if it meant I could transport myself back in time and switch bodies with Grace Kelly so I could make this collection my princess-off-duty wardrobe and drive around Monaco in that Bella Hadid look, roof down, all the drama of the fur trim and the gloves and hair whipping about in the wind (but in this unrealistic vision I can actually see what I’m doing and I’m not choking on random strands and swearing at Mother Nature as if she is a real entity with a personal vendetta against me).

Loewe! More J.W Anderson! I’m gonna try not to repeat myself by arsekissing too much all over again and get the good points out of the way quickly! So rapid fire: elegant! Delicious colour palette! Interesting shapes! I think I’m seeing a Victorian/Edwardian influence there! Correct me if I’m wrong! I like it! The coats are strong! Remind me of the suffragettes! But lets pretend in this case these Loewe style coat wearing suffragettes are not raging classists!

AH. Apart from that, it was a bit too austere for me. I definitely preferred Anderson’s eponymous collection; there were a fair few recurring details in this show that I couldn’t get behind that I didn’t include, in particular this bib-like black panel that just kept popping up on everything. Sorry J.W Anderson. But a 50% success rate is still good! And at the end of the day, having 2 collections on Vogue Runway at once is more prestigious than the accumulative total of every accomplishment I’ll probably ever have achieved in my life by the time I’m on my deathbed so what do I know anyway? Sigh:( At least I’ll always have the honour of having the largest head by circumference of my class in year 4, right *sweats nervously*!?!?! 

Louis Vuitton was definitely a downgrade on last season for me. There were for sure elements I liked-the Vera Wang-esuqe mixing of the tulle bustle skirts with the rougher, more masculine biker inspired vests and jackets was a cool choice, reminiscent of Gucci’s mixing of the lace dresses with harnesses. I enjoyed the baroque jackets and subtle nods to steampunk style too. Though we’ve already seen it a lot this season, the wet look coat with fur trim I can’t help falling in love with, and I’m immune to the potential ugliness of the muted blue monotone look purely on the basis I can picture Ripley from Alien in it. So like I said-it’s not as if I hated it. I guess when it comes down to it, the collection wasn’t bad so much as I just had higher hopes. I will say though, the staging was INCREDIBLE. As a history nerd, I never thought I’d see the day when a Henry the 8th lookalike actor was part of the backdrop of a Paris fashion week show-and I always thought there was no interesting career path for me in the subject!

And another big name I don’t tend to be so partial to, Maison Margiela. IDK, I did like last season but I wasn’t a fan of haute couture and it took me a while to warm to this. Call it deconstructed, experimental, whatever, but you know when you can’t decide what to wear and you’re in a rush so you kinda just throw all the shit you decided against into a pile? Well, my initial thought was that this season Margiela is kinda that, on the runway.

I will say, once I let go of my need to see a clear shape, a lot of the individual pieces were stunning (NOT the puffed up tabis though, I still can’t even get behind the regular ones). I guess I just wish they’d go for less is more with the styling because as it currently stands, it makes it hard to actually take the clothes in. 

Ultimately, one thing you can always say about Margiela, like their clothes or not, is that it has a monopoly on being effortlessly bold.

Marc Jacobs I really liked again, though I will say it doesn’t stand out quite like the S/S collection did. That was absolutely STUNNING-I can’t remember specifically where I ranked it in my top ten but I know it was at least in the top 5. This, on the other hand, is...pretty. It’s very pretty, and very put together, so I’m not saying at all that I don’t rate it. I suppose it’s just a lot simpler than I expected it to be-I don’t have a problem with simplicity, at all, especially if it’s what a brand is known for but I feel like part of the appeal with Marc Jacobs is that it’s pretty kooky. I mean, not Thom Browne or Margiela kooky, but commercial kooky at least. I feel like the kookiness is lacking here? And that’s where this feeling is coming from? And also, the fact that Lanvin tackled the same era and did it a lot better? So there’s that, too. Plus, I adore Miley Cyrus but...why? Random celebrities waking the runway just doesn’t do it for me-it always comes across as a publicity grab, as if the designer isn’t confident enough in their collection’s ability to get people talking on its own, and I suppose in this case that says it all really.

Margaret Howell was...well, Margaret Howell. She’s known for her basics, and they’re always pretty non-offensive “regulation hottie” in the words of the icon that is Damian from Mean Girls. It’s been, what, four years? More? Since I last watched that film but I’m pretty sure watching it about twenty times between the ages of 9 and 15 tattooed it on my brain. I include her because even though they don’t get my pulse racing, I like these pieces; considering the fact that expecting straight white men to ever have style on the level of barbiedrugz (his instagram is my favourite thing ever) or Rickey Thompson is ludicrous, Margaret Howell’s menswear looks are probably are the best, realistic goal for any future partner. Because I like my men dressed like Paddington bear/a depressed Brown University English lit lecturer, okay? Or in other words, Will Graham from Hannibal.

Marine Serre had a few good moments-the looks that I liked were the ones that stayed within her lane of blending the weird with the visually appealing. There were a lot of cool things going on, and I like the utility vibe (the boot with the pouch detailing and the mask are perfect examples of this done well), but outside the fits I picked out a lot of it went over my head tbh.

Marques Almeida is a show I was looking forward to-it has such a youthful, experimental quality to its collections (it’s no surprise the designers said they were influenced by the HBO show Euphoria this year!), similar to Central Saint Martins, and you can tell the designers (Marta Marques and Paulo Almeida) are based in London too; we are talking about the birthplace of the punk fashion movement, and as a designer it’s probably almost a rite of passage that you incorporate elements of that into your work. Marques Almeida does that with a flair and consistency you can count on. Their clothes don’t have the wildest silhouettes or anything like that but the fun they have playing around with print and colour and the ease and confidence with which they settle on those combinations always comes through-the black and white coat with the yellow furs trim is one of my favourite pieces from the entirety of this season’s offerings.

I wasn’t so fond of Max Mara’s SS20 collection and I'm not gonna lie, this isn’t THAT much of a step up for me personally. It’s just one of those brands I feel obligated to include because it’s talked about quite a bit but I’m not totally sure if it’s for me. Too monotone, but I’ll give it another season! And I mean, there is a slight improvement here-this collection is a lot more laid back than the stiff, austere feel of the last, and there are some very well fitted and structured pieces. A lot of the looks kinda remind me of a 2020, fashion take on The Breakfast Club’s “Basket Case”, which is kinda cool, and just from looking at the clothes, the high price tag is palpable. Also, scruffy hair club unite! Though obviously it’s intentional here! That’ll be my excuse for the next time I turn up at work looking like I’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards-Max Mara made me do it.

Ending on those words of wisdom, I’m gonna bring this post to a close, because I can’t fit any more photos in! I’m desperately hoping that I can fit this all into 3 parts like I did with my last RTW review but even if I do have to make 4 posts, I still include my top 10 shows as I did before. I hope to get that post up within the next couple of weeks! After that, I’ve shot a Lana Del Rey inspired by each of her different albums and “era”s though given last week’s events I’m on the fence about whether to post it or not, especially given her silence over the last couple of days. I’m really proud of what I’ve put together and I’ll always love her art and music (I have 2 bloody tattoos, for fuck’s sake!), so I’m trying to think how I can reconcile that with those awfully worded posts and just the general lack of awareness of bigger issues that she’s displayed the last week. JFC, being a Lana stan has always been so chilled up until now. All the very valid and important takes aside, that “Lana pls delete that post and apologise, we can’t fight the barbz all your stans are depressed” tweet is the only good thing to come out of this shitshow. He got a point. Breathing feels like effort lately:( IDK, if you’re also a Lana stan and you have any opinions on the matter, feel free to DM me, because I’m feeling pretty conflicted rn.

Most importantly though, are the issues I opened this post by talking about, and I thought I’d finish by including the thread of petitions I saw on Twitter. Like I said, a lot of them aren’t available to sign in the UK but to anyone who read up until this point (thank you!) idk where you’re reading from so maybe some of them will apply to you:

https://twitter.com/yericvIt/status/1265801832930045953

Also, while we’re at it, because every tory voting twat seems to treat our country as if it’s some beacon of hope where racism is non-existent and love to tell PoC to stop moaning about their experiences, here’s a thread of black British men and women who have lost their lives to police violence:

https://twitter.com/illh0eminati/status/1266441604170223617

Thank you for reading until the end. I hope that you enjoyed the fashion part of the post but also that if you did read this far, you read the other bits too if you didn’t know what was going on already. It seems like everyone does but you forget that Twitter’s a bit of an echo chamber and that outside of it, there’s a lot of ignorance, whether intentional or not. I know Tumblr has a similar audience to Twitter so I imagine there’s loads on here about everything going on too, but ya know. I wanted to talk about it just incase. 

Stay safe, keep fighting the good fight, and again, thank you for reading!<3

Lauren x

Anon asked: May I have some HCs of the Sdra2 boys as yanderes?

Ooohh! My first ever readers x characters request! I’ve seen many writers done this request, so I tried to make some of my own! I accidentally deleted the ask, so I tried my hardest to remember what the ask exactly said. Most of it is based on the killing methods of this game called Yandere Simulator. I hope you like it!

Also, I wanna thank @imaginefanganronpas fanganronpas for helping me with a few hcs in this post!

Sdra2 boys being yanderes for their s/o

Hajime

-he usually asks s/o to join him in exercising activities just so he can see you sweat because he thinks you’re hot when you sweat(pun intended).

-would still care about your health a lot. He secretly goes to the kitchen and cooks a healthy but delicious meal for you and he leaves it on the table you usually sit in front of.

-he acts chill in front of everyone including you, but he will always look at you to see if you’re safe from harm or have no injuries, not even a scratch, at all!

-when someone talks to you, that’s when he immediately starts to plan a murder using any materials from the gym. And he chose 2 150-pound dumbbells. I know, it’s very heavy, yet he seems to carry one in both hands.

-he places the dumbbells in a small bin and waited in the balcony edge for his victim to step on his x-mark.

-then, he drops the bin of dumbbells on the x-mark.

-Rival eliminated. Now he can have s/o all to himself. And he didn’t need to have blood in his hands at all.

Shinji

-he’s still kind to others, including s/o. Unless he caught someone flirting with s/o, then Yandere mode is activated.

-he has this intuition when he can sense that you’re in danger or injured, and his intuition can sense where the heck you’re at.

-once he comes to the rescue, he carries you behind his back. He just wants to feel your warmth, whether in danger, injured, or anything.

-when he sees his s/o talking to another person, he grits his teeth hard and punches the nearest wall with his fists.

-Shinji’s elimination method has something to do with fire. Sounds ironic right?

-he got all the materials he needed, which are a small plastic bucket, gasoline, and a match that he bought from Syobai.

-first, when he sees his victim walking towards the door, he fills the plastic bucket with gasoline, slightly opens the door, and places the bucket filled with gasoline on top of the door.

-once his target victim opens the door, gasoline falls onto the target’s head. Then, he lights up a match and now comes the screeching scream of his victim burning in flames.

-he evilly smiles as his victim turns into bones, making the remaining ashes dust away by the air.

-he threw the leftover body parts, mainly the bones, into the ocean.

-Now he can confess to his love and have s/o all to himself without anyone in the way.

Yuki

-he may look and act like a regular, adorable, and nice boy, but what you didn’t know is that he has a crazy personality when it comes to his s/o.

-he would always hang out with her, making s/o think he’s clingy, but you didn’t mind it since you thought it was normal for Yuki to be clingy to his closest friends.

-As his method for killing, he’s just gonna do what a cliche killer would do. Stabbing.

-he copies the handwriting of his s/o and writes a letter asking his target to come to a dark and hidden place near a fire incinerator.

-he slides the forged letter under his target’s door and waits until his victim appears in his planned spot.

-once his target gets there, he stabs him on the head, then he starts stabbing him repeatedly everywhere to satisfy himself more.

-after he was done with his stabbing montage, he pulls the body, dumps the body inside the incinerator, and turns it on, turning the whole body into ashes.

-after he was done with his murder, he waits for the right time to confess his love for his s/o, but now, he’s just gonna stay by his love’s side until he gains his confidence to confess.

Syobai

-if I’m going to describe him in less than 5 words, he’s a tsundere and a psychopathic yandere.

-bastard as always, even to his s/o, but when his love is not looking, he’s definitely checking on their ass.

-when he sees s/o with another person, he breaks his cigarette in half with only his 2 fingers. Is that even possible?

-well, anyways, he has many elimination methods in mind. He could drown them, he could stab them, he could push them on the staircase.

-But due to his lazy-ass personality, he just makes a deal with a Yakuza in exchange for a few dead bodies, which Syobai was able to get. Don’t question how.

-After the deal was made, he lets the Yakuzas do their thing, and they succeeded in kidnapping his target.

-of course, because of his shyness and fear of rejection, he will still act douchey in front of his s/o, but he’ll still watch her from afar while trying to plan the right time and words to confess to his s/o.

Yuri

-he loves to spoil and treat his s/o as his lover before he even confessed or declared his love to his s/o.

-don’t let that cute and jealous face fool you, when he’s jealous of someone who’s hitting on his s/o, he will become as violent as he can be.

-he’s very small, so he doesn’t have an idea for any killing method to eliminate his target.

-except for one, which is pushing his target down the staircase.

-he stalks his target until they’re alone. Once they climb down the stairs, he quietly walks towards his target’s back and pushes them with all of his force.

-he grins happily as he watches his victim’s head crack and explodes blood when their head hits the floor.

-his mission was as simple as slicing a piece of cake. Now all he has to do is impress his s/o and make them love him as he loves them.

Teruya

-this guy loves to leave gifts with no name tag in his s/o’s room and he steals many things from his s/o. Mostly, their undergarments.

-oh boy, you don’t wanna know what he does with those things he steals something from his s/o, including their picture.

-As a merchant, he almost has everything he needs in case he commits a murder.

-his elimination method usually has something to do with torture for his own pleasure.

-So, he kidnaps his target and locks his victim up in a room full of things that are traumatising or scary to them.

-After one week, his target is already shattered and mind-broken. Now, Teruya can make his victim do whatever he wants.

-He commanded his victim to go to the middle of the classroom, so everyone can think that the victim is finally back “safe and sound”, and stab himself on the head to scare everyone.

-His victim did all of his commands while Teruya quietly laughs menacingly as his victim continues to stab themselves.

-On the next gift he’s going to give to his s/o, he’s going to add a love note attached to it, exposing all of his feelings for s/o to read.

Mikado

-he spies his s/o doing anything. Sleep, eat, walk, and even take a bath!

-as his feelings for his s/o got stronger, his obsession with s/o became irresistible to push away.

-he hugs his s/o when they’re sleeping and they don’t feel his presence at all.

-when he sees his s/o taking to somebody else, fire literally comes out of his eyes.

-Of course, his method will be all about magic.

-so, when his target is distracted with something else, he hides behind a bush and electrocutes them.

-ah, he enjoys the screams and begs of help from his victim.

-after they’re dead, he just uses his magic again and teleports the body to a random place. Probably a dumpster.

-he’s now planning to manipulate his last void member into thinking she committed murder so everyone except his s/o, gets the wrong verdict. Which will leave him with to make s/o his own.

Nikei

-he writes down everything you do in his notepad. Like, he writes down what you eat, what you say, and who you talk to.

-has a pinboard with pictures of you that he stole and took w pic of and information about you that he wrote down.

-wanting to eliminate anyone who’s interested in his s/o, he already prepares everything from plans A-G.

-the most frequently used method is faking his target’s suicide.

-he invites his target to the balcony of a school, hides somewhere where his target won’t notice him, wait until his target steps on his marked spot, and he goes for it.

-he pushes his target, takes their shoes off, and let them fall to their death. After his target’s hits the ground, he places a letter expressing why the target committed “suicide”.

-after he’s done with that, he goes to the ground and fills a small ink bottle with his target’s blood.

-when the police “confirmed” that his victim’s death was a suicide, he writes a love letter to his s/o using the blood of his victim because pink looks very pretty with a light red heart card, he writes down a location and time his s/o is supposed to meet them so he can confess his undying love for them.

-he can’t wait until his s/o becomes his girlfriend. He’s already planned their future together from the start.

We Want Out

Another song fic bc I found more FNaF songs that I like. Includes my GlitchTrap/Malhare before Spring found out that how he acted was a coding error/glitch. Bolded text is the song. The song is “We want out” by DAGames, and for those wondering, DaGames: Freddy, JT Machinima: Spring (She also takes some of DAGames’ lines), Dan Bull: Golden, InuTrash & BSlick: Mangle. I’ll also use italics for Golden and underlines for Spring when I can’t really find a way to differentiate them without really forcing it.

---

“Hello? Hello, hello! I’d like to get you settled in for your first night. Things don’t seem as they should in our defence. But most importantly, they bite.”

Spring wasn’t sure how it had happened, but Malhare had somehow taken control of all of them. Being forced to the back of her own mind was nothing new to her, but knowing William wasn’t in control either actually scared her more. She couldn’t even hear the other anymore, and she never thought that she’d actually miss his voice. She chastised herself for getting so used to it, despite knowing after over 30 years of being stuck together it would have happened regardless. She was forced to just watch as Malhare moved her around, as well as moving the others. He’d occasionally release his control over them, but always lingered in Spring’s mind, he didn’t care what they did or said during these times, likely using it as a way to make it seem like nothing was strange to anyone that saw them.

So let me bite you, don’t want to fight you, I wanna carve you within my eternal gratitude. “You’re our friend in this tomb, what can we do? Tick, tock, boom. We’ve got it out for you.” Freddy sang, glancing at the new nightguard that was too far into the pizzeria to attempt to leave. They tried anyways, but Spring was quick to drape an arm over their shoulders to stop them. None of the animatronics were in good shape, most of them looked like they were in their withered forms, but Spring didn’t have one, her robotic arm looked like it was torn to shreds, metal casing forced open with wires spilling out of it, her rips were open with the ones around her mouth looking the.. Best? Worst? There were a few stitches left, but a wire stuck out of one of the holes, and she wasn’t sure how it got there. “And with a little budge, a little more touch. We have no grudge, simple as such. But your coffin is ready for you, take a slice of doom.” Spring sang, grinning as best as she could.

“So please, oh please, don’t run from us. You’re a friend to us. You’re part of our redesign! There’s no denying it, we’re precise in it, our bites depict it. We’ve got a fire, fire burning for you!” Freddy went on, then Spring took over. “We’re one big happy family!” It’s a pizza party now “You will be mine for eternity!” For it’s his game we’re playing now. Freddy took over again. “If we had more than words,” All of them joined in. “We’d want out!” Spring again. “But he’s got us hooked, brought back to tragedy.” Freddy. “Our tomb is fried, lost in our hive. You’re still alive. But as we find you, we will ignite you tonight.”

The nightguard had given up struggling, listening to the song, as if he had figured out what they were saying. Freddy continued. ��We are creations, manipulations, we have a deal with the damned and a sound desperation. We may never escape, this is the fate, digging our graves all before it’s too late.” Golden, who had been mostly quiet the entire song, decided to join in. “But if we’re going down standing our ground, let the party impound. Make some noise, you will be found. And as the old saying goes; are you friend or foe? No one knows!”

Freddy picked up the song. “So stay away. Unless you want to be our prey.” Spring took over. “You’re part of me, bottom line. You’re trapped and I’ll admit, we tend to commit. We’re a bunch of misfits!” Freddy sang the final bit. “We’ve got a fire, fire burning for you!” He then let Spring sing the chorus again, then he sang the post chorus. The nightguard appeared more upset than scared at this point, but Spring (wrongly) assumed it was because she just told them that they were part of her, which, as an animatronic that looked like they could fall apart at any moment, she assumed wasn’t the best thing to hear.

“Hold up, hold up, got a story so unholy. Matrimony has a place in our sanctimony.” Golden started. “We weren’t the same since the day our eternity faded, within mechanical debauchery and carnal dismay.” Spring continued. “Couldn’t even count to ten, when was my birthday? I can’t remember, only memories of death began.” A lie, the twins remembered the most of their old lives, and even remembered when their birthday was. “Crawling up my arms, well, what used to be arms, but now infested by a torture chamber, biolistic danger.” “So don’t be surprised to find, we bind with kind minds.” Spring’s grip on the nightguard strengthened. “Gonna hurt ya but you can’t scream bloody murder.” “Hey, you misheard her, she’s got beaks that’ll push you further.” “Bang! Got the hot seat, party’s over.” They exclaimed together. “I’m sorry, this is what we do, we didn’t choose this.” Golden apologized. “Don’t diss, just like us; you won’t be missed.” Spring hissed bitterly. “But I’ve got half a mind to know you’ll panic. Your body parts sporadic.” “We got impatient for your brains, can’t scratch it.” “Let me have it, gonna grab it, I have nothing left to lose, dang it!” The nightguard managed to squirm out of Spring’s hold this time, but she made no movement to try and catch them again. “You can hide, justified but we’ve got our genocide.” Again, they spoke at the same time. “Now it’s time you die, we can bite!”

Mangle was the one to grab them, sticking to her animatronic form. “I believe we’ve met before, I’m supposed to tear you limb from limb-” which meant Malhare knew the nightguard was there, but hadn’t taken control of them yet. “-step inside my deadly sin. I can breathe the air is thick with dread, but now it’s over we can ascend, we shall begin with your end.”

Freddy, Spring, and Golden all sang one after another, all now trying to scare off the nightguard. “We’re one big happy family.” “Gonna hurt ya but you can’t scream bloody murder.” “You will be mine for eternity.” “Bang! Got the hot seat, party’s over.” “If we had more than words-” “We’d want out!” “But he’s got us hooked, brought back to tragedy.” “Let me have it, gonna grab it, I’ve got nothing left to lose, dang it!” “We’re one big happy family.” “I’m sorry, this is what we do, we didn’t choose this.” “You will be mine for eternity.” “Don’t diss, just like us, you won’t be missed.” “If we had more than words-” “We’d want out!” “But he’d got us trapped, brought back to tragedy. Our tomb is fried, lost in our hive, you’re still alive.” “You can hide, justified but we got our genocide.” “But as we find you, we will ignite you tonight.” The nightguard finally got the hint and fled, the change in tone being enough.

Mangle turned to face them, causing them all to freeze. She had purple eyes, unlike his usual yellow eyes and white with black sclera. “I’m supposed to tear you limb from limb, step inside my deadly sin. I can breathe, the air is thick with dread, but now it’s over we can ascend.” We’ve got a fire, fire burning for you. They were in trouble, and they knew it. But before any of them could argue, Spring decided she’d take the blame. Mal didn’t care what they did, as long as it wasn’t warning nightguards or technicians.

Part I

Whoops; Katrina happened to overhear Esther yelling at Louis, and she wants in on stopping the merger without telling anyone about the assault, but to accomplish that, they’re going to need help. From…someone. Cool.

On his way out of the prison, Harvey calls Cahill to inform him that pressing Forstman was a bust, so Cahill needs to start putting pressure on Malik’s bosses to get him to lay off and he needs to do it tonight and I mean now. Cahill, who’s apparently on leave, possibly related to that pesky indictment thing he’s got going on, heads back to the office to ask some guy he works with to “go to Andrew Malik’s boss’s office and read him the riot act.” When Cahill points out that Malik has a long record of going after Harvey, the guy agrees to do it, but he also slips in the reminder that “the person who put [Cahill] in this position isn’t Andrew Malik… It’s Harvey Specter.” (I mean, he’s got a point.)

Donna then decides to get in on the fun, paying Malik a visit to inform him that he’s gonna lose “because [he’s] not just fighting Harvey. [He’s] fighting all of [them].” Well, Donna and Alex, at least; if memory serves, Louis and Katrina are otherwise occupied, but I guess “You’re fighting some of us” doesn’t sound quite as threatening.

Now, who did Katrina have in mind to recruit to Louis’s case? Samantha Wheeler, of course. Meeting up with her in some bar, Louis opens the conversation by telling her that thing his sister asked him not to tell anyone about how she was assaulted. Samantha bets Richmond has done this before, and Louis asks her to “do whatever it takes to take this piece of shit down.” He then goes to visit Esther, apologizing for breaking her trust as they proceed to have a canned discussion about how “you hear about this kind of thing now… But back then, you didn’t”; she blamed herself, she felt ashamed, it’s not her fault, all the standard notes and basically none of the heart. He offers to leave it alone if she still wants him to, but he did “get [them] some help,” and it looks like this one’s going forward after all.

Cahill’s friend getting Malik’s boss to pressure him to leave them alone seems to have backfired, as Malik catches Harvey on the street to arrest him “for conspiring with a federal prosecutor” (that’s not a thing). FYI, if you’re ever arrested, the appropriate response is: “I invoke my right to remain silent. I invoke my right to an attorney,” and then shut the hell up until your lawyer gets there. Harvey, Alleged Actual Attorney, instead says “I wanna call my lawyer,” at which point the arresting officer drops his cell phone on the ground and steps on it, and Malik ships him off to jail. When Malik stops by to gloat, Harvey brags that when “[he] asked for [his] attorney, [Malik] smashed his phone, which means [Harvey] could tell [him] he killed Kennedy, and it wouldn’t be admissible.” Again, false; Harvey said he wanted to call his lawyer, which is not “an explicit request for an attorney,” meaning Malik can ask him whatever the hell he wants and keep any of Harvey’s responses on the record (Davis v. United States, 512 U.S. 452 [1994]). In any event, Malik tries to get Harvey to talk by informing him that Cahill’s been arrested for obstruction, and whichever of them caves first gets to…save his career? I guess this is a prisoner’s dilemma, but I'm going to have to dock them a few points for not making it clear that the first one to flip gets a lighter sentence, and also for Harvey actually labeling the situation “this little prisoner’s dilemma.” Too obvious, man; have a little class.

Back at the firm, Donna tells Alex about a really bad feeling she has about Malik and Harvey, so I expect Alex is going to end up representing Harvey in this matter.

Anyway Malik starts off his interrogation of Cahill by alleging that Cahill owes his job to Harvey for taking down Eric Woodall, which Cahill categorically denies; we then start switching back and forth between Malik’s interrogations of Cahill and Harvey, who appear to be giving exactly the same story (and why that in and of itself doesn’t set off some alarms, I’ve no idea): Cahill’s deal to take down Sutter was with Mike, not Harvey; Harvey took Sutter on as a client because Kevin got Mike out of jail; two dozen calls between Harvey and Cahill at that time aren’t evidence of conspiracy, they were about protecting Mike from Gallo. Malik keeps saying he has proof, but I dunno, so far this sounds like a lot of conjecture and circumstantial evidence. Then Alex shows up to tell Malik that his clients are done answering questions, and Malik gleefully announces that Cahill has retained Faye Richardson as counsel and she advised him to take the deal, which he did, so…take that, Harvey. He’s got you now. Definitely.

Oh, by the way, when Katrina “was a prosecutor for six years before [she] joined the firm,” she once failed to get justice for a woman who was assaulted by her boss even though “everyone believed her,” so she’s demanding Samantha let her help with the plan to get Richmond.

Right, so, Harvey’s first act upon his release from jail is to punch Cahill right in the face (way too much windup, he would’ve seen that coming fifty miles away), also yelling “Fuck you and the horse you rode in on,” which is just very cute. Cahill argues that Malik had them (you sure?) and he cut a deal to keep them both out of prison (a real prisoner’s dilemma should have ended with Harvey going to prison while Cahill went free), and Harvey counters that yeah, he colluded, “but [he] did it to get a man who never hurt a soul away from a convicted murderer who was gonna kill him”; furthermore, he’s spent his entire life doing what he thinks is right, and “rules aren’t right or wrong” so he’s “fine with what’s in [his] soul.” How very sanctimonious. (Also, “every line [he’s] ever crossed, [he’d] do it again”? He���s been a lawyer for like twenty years, I seriously doubt he’d stand by every single decision he’s ever made.)

Tag team time: Donna demands to know how Faye could betray Harvey by getting Cahill to take Malik’s deal, asserting that she just did it because she hates Harvey. Faye counters with actually a really good point: “In his heart, he believes he’s a good man. That’s why he won’t change and why he’s a cancer on this firm.” The fact that everyone at the firm loves him actually makes things worse because they’ll blindly follow him anywhere, and they’re kidding themselves if they think they’ll always be able to convince him to do what’s right. Donna snaps that it was Harvey’s moral code that kept him from turning Faye over to the bar (the judiciary…), which seems to give her pause, although for real, if she’s as stringent about adhering to the law as she claims to be, she should just report herself and let the chips fall where they may. At least that way she gets to control the narrative.

Despite the fact that they’ve found six women who Richmond assaulted over ten years, Samantha and Katrina still have no case because none of the women are willing to testify. Katrina then has the bright idea to go straight to the lawyers who arranged all the women’s NDAs, pitting them against one another in what I think is supposed to be the episode’s second prisoner’s dilemma, except that if these lawyers won’t talk, they have nothing to hold over them, so no one would face any consequences, and if one of them talks, the other one isn’t going to suffer for it, so they have nothing to bargain with. In any case, Katrina talks to one lawyer and Samantha talks to the other, and it’d be a little more badass if they had any actual leverage, but whatever, good on them for trying.

Donna’s hurt that Harvey didn’t tell her about Cahill’s deal, but it turns out that might not matter anyway because Alex discovered, between Harvey’s arrest warrant and Sutter’s autopsy report, that Malik had Harvey arrested not because his boss was giving him shit but because Harvey was closing in on the fact that Sutter died suddenly and thus couldn’t have given a deathbed confession, making Forstman’s testimony inadmissible hearsay. But Harvey doesn’t just want proof that Forstman lied; he wants to nail Malik to the wall, which they might be able to pull off “by giving Sean Cahill a chance to make things right.”

I think Katrina and Samantha’s gambit worked, but it’s a little unclear that it mattered, because Samantha goes to Louis’s to inform him that while they “have a road map to every time Paul has done this before and the settlements he’s paid… [They] still don’t have a plaintiff,” so the case is a no-go. Louis can’t ask Esther to testify, but based on that case she failed to prosecute, maybe Katrina can; meeting one-on-one, Katrina lays the situation out for Esther, plus the fact that she called the plaintiff from her old case, who said that even though they lost, she doesn’t regret coming forward. Also they “don’t have much time” before the merger goes through, so if they’re going to do this, they need to do it soon.

Brace yourself, here comes the big wrap-up: Harvey and Cahill ambush Malik to inform him of their Forstman-related findings and have Malik arrested for fabricating evidence. Malik says he’s not fabricating evidence…because he’s “the goddamn State’s Attorney,” which, no he’s not, New York doesn’t have a State’s Attorney, and even if it did, that doesn’t make evidence fabrication any less illegal. Whatever, he’s going to jail and Harvey and Cahill are friends again, and that's the end of that. Samantha and Louis show Richmond the evidence they collected of all his cover-ups and Esther arrives at the last second to play the necessary accuser, so Richmond resigns on the spot and Esther tells Louis she couldn’t have done it without him. Harvey stops by the prison to let Forstman know that they know he committed perjury and now Cahill gets to decide how much time is going to be added to his sentence, so good luck with that. Also the whole thing with Esther made Louis think about the importance of family to him and Sheila, and now he wants to cram a wedding in before the season finale. I mean, get married before Sheila gives birth.

Okay, so everything in that mad dash to the finish line feels pretty conclusive, right? We’re all happy with how it all ended up? Except according to Korsh, “[Episodes] 9 and 10 are sort of the consequences of what happens at the end of [episode] 8.” There’s like a minute left, what more could possibly happen?

Glad you asked. As soon as Harvey arrives home to preen about his win over Malik and Forstman, Donna makes an announcement: “[His] mother had a heart attack. She’s gone.”

So I have some thoughts about this.

Part III

Gotham 05X05, ‘Pena Dura’

- I’m having a really hard time caring. This is Gotham.

- Okay, I am officially Checked Out of Selina’s storyline. If you guys think what’s happening is really good, and it doesn’t involve moralizing over Selina’s having committed Murder, message me and maybe I’ll turn the mute off, but for now, no. Just no. I’m not here for this, especially not on Gotham, of all shows.

- Some old man is watching a black and white film on a film projector, to be confronted with guns by Jim and Harvey. He and his gang are holed up in a church.

- Jim and Harvey are had. Except not, because what what looks like a black ops team crashes in, destroying a stained glass skylight.

- And one of Jim’s old army buddies has showed up.

- And by Eduardo, Jim… has really gone to seed. Why am I not surprised.

- “Jim’s taught me a thing or two about being careful.” What? Harvey, why are you lying?

- Why do I feel like Eduardo’s second-in-command is going to be relevant later.

- Bruce is running around the GCPD looking for Alfred. Apparently he can’t find Selina. Alfred’s right that Selina can take care of herself, and is of the opinion that, well, Selina was probably doing the world a favor by stabbing Jeremiah in the gut. Thank you, Alfred. I may not be muting all of Selina’s scenes, after all.

- I can’t believe I’m praising Alfred for anything in relation to his treatment of Selina, but unlike Bruce, he seems to at least recognize that Selina has agency and is going to do what she wants regardless of whether Bruce approves. So yeah. Very faint praise for Alfred. (Whether you choose to damn him with it is up to you.)

- “You’re not a murderer, Ed.” Yes he fucking is. Shut up.

- And now Ed is up against a wall with guns pointed towards him. See how little I care.

- I don’t know what’s going on; I have the mute on. Jim looks… I can never tell if that look is supposed to be troubled or constipated.

- Eduardo has stepped on a sinking tile; I presume he just triggered a trap.

- The floor is lava!

- Eduardo is disbelieving that anyone would seriously choose to come to Gotham, let alone Jim. Join the club, buddy.

- I chickened out and put the mute back on once the scene switched to Bruce looking for Selina. He was in the Sirens, it looked like? Barbara was there, and she looked happy as anything.

- We’re back to Ed with mobs literally out for his blood. A good look for Ed.

- And Oswald is carrying out a deal, and doesn’t exactly look happy when he finds out Ed is responsible for Haven (Though I’m honestly at the point where I think Jeremiah framed him). I notice that for someone who, as Mr. Penn said with his dying breath, everyone hated, he seems to have built up his power base again very quickly.

- Maybe I’m supposed to feel sorry for Ed trying to evade the people out to kill him, but really, I’m not. And I don’t feel sorry for him when he wakes up duct-taped to a lawn chair, either.

- I have the mute on, I really don’t know what’s happening, but I can guess.

- She’s… after him because he killed her dog? Really, I don’t know.

- Gotham is kinda funny with the mute on.

- These actors make really good weird faces.

- And now he’s having some sort of vision of Oswald? I know all this is going to result in is Ed blaming Oswald for Everything That Has Ever Gone Wrong Ever, because God forbid Ed ever take responsibility for anything, but really, this is just gonna be… Oswald, honey, I really hope you’re finally over him. He is so not worth your time.

- Okay, commercial break over, and I think I’ll try turning the mute off.

- “I’m going to fix you, Ed.” Why do I feel like this’ll be sad in context?

- It’s funny with the mute off, too.

- What are backwoods rednecks doing in Gotham, anyways?

- And Ed is here to blame Oswald for Everything That Has Ever Gone Wrong Ever. Oh, the joy.

- I feel like Oswald would be careful enough to have a gun on him at all times.

- Jim doesn’t seem eager to take on Oswald. Interesting.

- Mute is back on with Selina. Selina looks kinda dead-eyed.

- Mute’s off, and Selina’s telling him about her watching his parents get shot. She’s tearing up. Poor sweetie.

- Selina, you’re not convincing anyone when you say you don’t care. You literally teared up when you talked about watching Bruce’s parents get gunned down; that is not the sign of someone who doesn’t care. Sneaking into Arkham for Bridgit’s sake is not something someone who doesn’t care does. Selina probably wants to not care about anyone, but yeah, I don’t think it’s in her to be apathetic to everyone and everything. And of course Bruce is hurt by that, but I don’t think he believes that.

- Boo hoo Ed. Gag me with a spoon; I literally could not be less sympathetic towards him if I tried.

- Turned on the sound just in time for Oswald to tell Ed that he had saved his life.

- And yeah, I’m with Oswald: if he wants to fuck with Ed, Ed is automatically gonna know it’s him.

- Again, boo hoo Ed. I could not care less.

- Oswald is fully willing to hand Ed over to special forces; thank you. But now he’s the only one left holding the bag. Of course.

- Armed standoff time.

- Yeah, Oswald, Harvey’s a free agent.

- And once again, Oswald can’t have a victory that lasts longer than one episode. Because of course.

- Barbara makes very creative threats.

- Yeah, Ed, Barbara has known you to do shit like that. That’s the problem.

- “They killed those people.” Barbara’s not likely to care.

- I don’t like this Christian Bale voice Ed’s doing. It was bad when Christian Bale did it, and it’s somehow even worse when it’s CMS.

- I don’t wanna watch Oswald get tortured. Next scene, please.

- Exchange between Jim and Oswald. And once again, Jim is choosing Oswald even at the expense of clashing with one of his allies. Gotham? You are never gonna sell me on Jim with one his lady love interests. Never.

- Yay, it’s BD Wong time!

- I love BD Wong.

- I love BD Wong even more when Strange is trying to reason with Ed.

- Strange is playing with him and it’s painfully obvious.

- This performance is delicious; why can’t BD Wong be in every episode?

- It’s bizarre to see Harvey giving Bruce a more inspirational speech than Jim’s ever managed. Nice, though.

- Damn; I didn’t expect to see fresh brain in this episode.

- BD Wong is really redeeming this episode for me, because up to now it’s been mediocre to awful. But I’m actually smiling now.

- Oswald’s home again, lugging his dog around. It’s honestly kinda cute.

- Secret vault? Secret vault.

- There Amontillado in that vault?

- “I was merely helping a man who needed medical attention.” I laughed.

- Given how Ed uses people as tools, I’m not shedding tears over him being used as tools.

- I was wondering when the other shoe would drop with Eduardo. Strange is escorted out, and “Walker”—Amanda Waller, I’m guessing; the name’s close enough—wants Ed killed. I presume Amanda Waller is also the one ultimately controlling Ed.

- Honestly, given Amanda Waller’s personality in other works, I wouldn’t put it past her to do the “pragmatic” thing and have Haven bombed so the army can be brought in and Gotham can be brought to heel. She is very much for the order part of law and order.

- If we actually see Amanda Waller, they’d better get someone good. I wish we could get CCH Pounder, but, I don’t know, given that this is show business, they may decide she’s too old for the role.

- I disapprove of mind control on principle, but with Ed, I can’t really dredge up much of the ability to care.

- And Jeremiah’s not dead, because of course he’s not dead.

- I hate what they did with Ecco. I really do.

- “All systems go.” Well, that can only signal good things.

- Last scene is Jeremiah looking at two women who’ve just had bandages removed. “I love family reunions, don’t you.” Whatever this is about, I’m sure it’s going to be clichéd, and not nearly as shocking as the music tries to imply.

- …And something just occurred to me. The army turning out to be Evil completely absolves Jim of any responsibility for fighting with the Army as we saw him doing in the first episode. …

…

…

SERIOUSLY?????

Good night, everybody.

Murder House, Part One

This is my @mtl-trick-or-treat for @enydart! I hope you like it; I had a lot of fun writing it! I also started something for your Treat prompt, so if you like this and want that one as well, just let me know and I will finish it and post it asap!

This was for the Trick prompt, asking for ‘something gross with Murderface.’ I went to something that most people find gross (though maybe not the Dethklok boys, since they see so much of it lol)-murder. But I had to give Murderface some fun and happiness too since he gets shit on so damn often, so hopefully this is gross enough!

Fic under the cut because this got long; RIP and my apologies to mobile users if the cut isn’t working on the app. I was actually going to try and fit the whole thing in one post, but found out there is a post length limit (who knew!) so I have split this into Part One and Two! I will post Part Two by the end of tomorrow at the latest (it just needs a few final touches!)

The ads for the haunted house played constantly from October 15th on . Radio, TV, even billboards plastered all over. He did his best to ignore them, even though he wanted to take a flamethrower to any billboard or screen that had the ad on it for even a second. 

The rest of the band, however, was harder to ignore. By the fifth night of the ads playing during their favorite evening TV shows, he was ready to snap listening to them comment. 

“Look at thats; you ams the most famous of us now,” Skwisgaar snickered as the ad played. 

Lights flashed and flickered on the big screen as it showed the haunted house actors depicting the murder-suicide that had sent him to his grandparents. There was even a chubby baby actor sat in the middle of the gore-’Baby Murderface looks on in horror!’ exclaimed the ad’s dramatic narrator. 

“Ams thats legal?” Toki asked, pointing at the screen. “To use your lifes like thats and makes a haunted house so...sads?” 

“Amn’ts even haunted really,” Skwisgaar replied. “Just sads. A sads house. What ams scary about thats?”

Pickles shrugged. “Well, someone sold their rights to their life story years ago. That’s scary, if you ask me. Cuz then they can do shit like this, and you’re shit outta luck to stop them. Ain’t that right, Murderface?” 

He wanted to just rage. To tell them to shut the fuck up, or he’d set fire to the living room just like he wanted to set fire to the haunted house and anyone who was involved with it. But he’d been upset constantly, since the ads had started. It felt strange, but he was almost tired of being upset and yelling about it. He just wanted to do something to get rid of it. 

“Whatever, juscht schut up about it. They were schupposed to make a cool movie out of my life,” Murderface sighed. 

Nathan chuckled. “You uh, you really thought they were gonna do that? Buying the rights to your life story; that was gonna make a really cool movie?” 

“Yeah, why the fuck not? People make movies about all kindsch of dumb schit; you can make a movie about anything basically!” Murderface spat back.

“Okay, Murderface, look--thing is, they gotta have a cool fun story, to make a cool movie. A movie about your life...that’d be pretty sad, dude,” Pickles said. “I mean, who the fuck would wanna watch that?” 

“Well, once he joins us, I mean...that’d be a cool movie,” Nathan said. 

“Yeah, but then that’s just a Dethklok movie,” Pickles replied. “And that ain’t what he wants; he wants a Murderface-only movie. But nobody’s gonna go see that, or if they did they’d like...I don’t know, cry themselves to death or something.” 

Murderface bit his tongue. They were in a rhythm now, going back and forth to talk shit about him. It was easier to try to stay quiet and ride it out. 

“Yeah, probably. Can you see it? ‘Saddest movie ever, millions cry themselves to death and stab out their own eyes’,” Nathan said. “Huh. Actually, that would be brutal as fuck. Murderface, you should call them--tell them to nix this haunted house bullshit and make the movie instead.” 

There were tears at the corner of his eyes, even though he didn’t want them there. He tried to look only at the TV, hoping no one would notice them. 

“Oh geez, look yous mades him cry now,” Skwisgaar tutted. “You eggs him on like this, when he ams already a big crysbaby, makes it worse. Ams you just a big baby Murderface? No, so knocks it off.” 

“He likes attention, that’s all he wants,” Pickles started. 

“Yeah, I says thats, like a big baby,” Skwisgaar interrupted. “Needings all this attentions.” 

 “Oh fuck you! You’ve got moviesch and booksch written about you!” Murderface protested. If anyone could talk about being an attention-needy baby, it was Skwisgaar. 

“Yeah, but I has to have them all takens down. Dids not authorize anys of thems, so they amnt’s accurate. I don’ts want them, but people makes them anyway.” Skwisgaar replied testily. “And does yous mean Toki’s book? Because that ams nots something I wanted either.” 

“Oh fuck yous, Skwisgaar,” Toki scoffed. “Yous ams just as bad. What theys calls an ‘attention whores’.” 

“Oh, and what ams yous, Mr. Gives-me-a-solo-rights-now-or-I-cries?” Skwisgaar shouted. 

It devolved from there, and he tuned it out. They’d forgotten to keep making fun of him, at least. But there was no watching the show with that much yelling over it; the cue to head in for the night. 

His boots thudded against the stone floors, and then against the wall of his room as he kicked them off and tossed them into a corner. 

“Schtupid executive asscholes. Schtupid Halloween. My life ischn’t scary, or schad, or anything--it’sch mine. How’d they like it if schomeone did that to them?” he grabbed an ancient dagger from its spot hanging on the wall and slashed in front of him. “Or better yet--Michael or Freddy or schomething could come and cut them down. Just schome creepy freak coming after them.”

He let the dagger clatter to the floor. “They’d never schee it coming...” 

And there it was. The perfect revenge, to make sure they’d never take anyone else’s life and turn it into some stupid attraction. To show them he wouldn’t take this lying down. 

Or that someone wouldn’t, at least. 

After all, Charles did have a few limits legally. He got them out of a lot of shit, but some of it was going to simply come down to being careful. There wasn’t too much work to do anyway--the website for the haunted house listed two main executives from the studio he’d sold his rights to, a team lead for the attraction itself, and if he could take out a few actors in the house too, well that was just icing on the cake at that point. 

It wasn’t a lot of murders for Charles to have to make disappear, but it was enough work if it was Murderface, famous bassist committing them. 

But a faceless, nameless boogeyman could get the job done. 

The outfit was easy to draw up, his ideas flowing like water. A little bit Michael with the black protective jumpsuit, and a touch of Freddy with the knives, all hidden in specially designed pockets so it wouldn’t look super bulky. The mask was fitting of any horror movie monster--blank and emotionless, unknowable.

Really, the mask was his masterpiece. Made of a flexible material so as to still be comfortable, with specialty coatings on the front to make it difficult for any victim to stab or shoot through it. It wouldn’t stop everything, but it would help keep him from getting outright killed. Not that he planned on giving them much of chance for that. Last, it would be painted a dark shade of blue, almost black, the color he figured would make it easiest to blend into any shadows. Only holes for the eyes and a few hidden ones near the nose--anything more felt too risky, too much of a chance to potentially be recognized. 

The bonus of being this rich was that no one would ask questions when he ordered weird shit. Hell, he commissioned random costumes for Planet Piss all the time. Charles would make sure the orders got processed as quickly as possible, and then his work could begin.

It was almost therapeutic, all of the planning and designing. It made falling asleep easier and quicker than it had been in weeks, and for the first time in awhile, he slept with a smile on his face.

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

The three days that followed were all tense excitement. Excitement for waiting for the outfit to get there, excitement to get started. With the main businessmen taken out of the equation, it would be easy to get Charles to start the legal side of things--to file lawsuits for everything from defamation to claiming he never sold his rights at all. And then the thing would be shuttered for good. 

The suit arrived first. Thick material, meant for an industrial setting, slow to stain or tear. And it fit like a glove. 

“I’ll corner thosche asscholes in their penthousches, and paint the wallsch with their gutsch!” he crowed as he finished buttoning it. It was a bit weird not wearing his shorts, but some sacrifice would be required to pull this all off. 

Now he could only hope the guys wouldn’t question the deliveries he was getting. They almost always did--for anyone. Pure morbid curiosity, or hoping it was something fun to be shared. 

So of course, they asked. 

“Uh, you quitting on us or something?” Pickles asked on the morning of the fourth day after the Plan had started, as they all dug into their breakfasts. “Going into construction?” 

“Of coursche not,” Murderface replied. “How’d you find out what it was anyway?” 

Pickles shrugged. “I smoke up with one of the gals in the mail room. She lets me look at all the mail that comes through here. Kinda fun.” 

“What the fuck, how long has she let you do that?” Nathan asked, his fork still halfway to his mouth as he stared perturbed at Pickles. 

Pickles shrugged again. “Couple years now. Why, you ordering nasty sex toys or something you don’t want me to see?” 

Nathan flushed pink, and glared down into his pancakes. “Don’t be an asshole. Just don’t want you going through all my shit.” 

“Yeah, you’re ordering nasty shit. I’m gonna watch out for your stuff more now,” Pickles grinned. 

“Juscht fire her,” Murderface said, grateful the topic was drifting away from his mail. “Then he can’t get in there anymore.” 

“Nah, he won’t,” Pickles replied. “You guys all know her--the one with those green eyes.” 

“Damn it,” Nathan huffed. “She’s nice. Always leaves a little note on my mail when she brings it to my room with a smiley face. I can’t fire her.” 

“Told ya,” Pickles smirked. “So, ya going to your shitty haunted house or something? Making a spooky costume, Scaryface?” 

“Yeah, might use it for Halloween” Murderface snorted. “But, itsch really for Planet Pissch. Got a...concept album idea going.” 

“Ams it piss?” Toki asked. 

Skwisgaar rolled his eyes as he sipped his coffee. “Whats does you think, Toki. What’s else woulds it be?” 

“Wes should does a groups costume this year,” Toki said. “Then wes can all goes to sees the sads Murderface house!” 

“I woulds be ups for thats,” Skwisgaar replied. “Gots to be somethings cool though, Toki.” 

“No, no, what the fuck, no,” Pickles protested. “Thought you Swedes were antisocial, why the hell do you wanna do a group costume?” 

Skwisgaar glared. “Because I ams Swedish, I can’ts have friends? Wes can’ts have funs with a groups costume? Ams I meant to hates fun?” 

“I just figured you wouldn’t think it was cool,” Pickles replied. “Don’t gotta be a douche bag about it.” 

“Oh fines then, I goes as the personifications of nihilism,” Skwisgaar scoffed. “Ams that an acceptable costume for mes, Pickle?” 

Murderface ate in silence as the argument grew over the group costume idea. He’d get used to even more arguments if it meant they’d forget to ask him about what he was doing. 

Still, Pickles potentially seeing his mail made him worry. When the mask showed up later that day, he made sure the mail team knew to bring it straight to his room. 

But it was Charles who knocked on his door and had the package in hand. 

“Look it over, if you want changes made we’ll send it back right away,” he said, watching as Murderface tried to open the package without letting him see too much of it. 

“Serial killer...that’s a fun costume,” Charles continued as Murderface turned away to examine the mask.

“How would you know?” Murderface asked as he felt Charles sit on the end of the bed. “Can’t see you getting dressed up for Halloween much.” 

Charles only shrugged. “So...will it work?” 

Murderface turned and stared. Did he somehow know? How the fuck could he know? 

“For your costume?” Charles asked, an eyebrow raised. 

“Oh, yeah. Perfect,” Murderface replied, relieved. And it was, exactly the way he wanted it. 

“Good,” Charles said, a small smile on his face. “Have fun putting it together. I’m sure you’ll look great.” 

After Charles had left, he pulled everything on and stood in front of the mirror near his closet. The whole picture--suit, mask, boots, a pair of black leather gloves--looked good. 

Except...

His hair ruined it. Everybody knew his hair, the fucking curly triangle. He had to hide it.

A thick winter beanie didn’t help, and the mask fit funny then. Any other hats would likely be the same result. 

“You gotta go,” he told the reflection of his curls. “We’re ugly asch schit anyway, being bald ain’t gonna make a difference.” 

He called for a klokateer from the hairdressing department, and changed back into his regular clothes while he waited for them. 

The klokateer had to have run, she was so out of breath. “Sir, you needed someone immediately. How may I assist you?” 

He pointed to his hair. “Get rid of it.” 

Her eyes were only barely visible with her hood on, but he could see them go wide. “Uhm...maybe we could just try a different style? Going straight to bald is a big change, sir.” 

“I. Want. It. Gone,” he replied. She’d run to Charles in a minute, he was sure of it. 

“Uh, we’ll need the clippers, not these,” she said, holding up a pair of shears. “Just let me go get those.” 

He sat on his bed and waited for the phone to ring. She’d have run to Charles, begging for help as to what to do without being seen as being disobedient. A moment later, his Dethphone rang loudly. 

“Murderface, I’ve got a very scared and confused young woman in here saying you want to chop off all your hair. Is this true?” Charles asked. 

“Yeah,” Murderface replied. “Why’sch that a big deal?” 

“Well, it is a very sudden image change. We’ll have to do all new publicity photos, promotions. And it is a bit random--why do you want to do this?” Charles asked. 

“Want a change, that’sch all,” Murderface sighed. “Can’t a guy want to change schit up?” 

Charles sighed. “Of course. I’ll send another hairdresser to you. This one’s a bit too shaky to do the job now.” 

Murderface tapped the ‘end call’ button, and flopped back against his pillows. The guys would hate having to take new pictures, but they’d get over it. Besides, maybe they’d have to make a sacrifice or two to help his revenge as well. 

It was a male klokateer this time, silent as he sat down a chair and propped a broom and dust pan near the door. He was silent all the way through the cut as well, but that was just fine. 

When the klokateer had cleaned the floor of his curls and left, Murderface put the outfit back on. 

It made a world of difference. Now, he looked like a proper faceless killer. 

Now, all he had to do was start killing. 

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

The next morning, he was glowing. There was no other way to put it. He was excited beyond belief to get started. Granted, he still needed to do a bit of research to figure out where each victim would be. But there were multiple social media accounts for each person, so it would be easy enough. 

The biggest worry right now was the reaction to his hair, or the lack of it. The guys did not disappoint as he joined them at the breakfast table. 

“What in the fuck dids yous do?” Skwisgaar asked, dropping his fork. “And why?” 

“I wanted to,” Murderface replied. “Felt like something different. Not bad, right?” 

“Ugggghhh,” Nathan whined. “We’re gonna have to do new promos now. I hate promo photos.” 

“Yeah, but they moved that green-eyed klokateer to the makeup team,” Pickles said. “Charles found out she was letting me in the mail room and uh...look, it was either move her or lose her. But you could talk to her more now, since she’ll be at the promos shoot.” 

Nathan smiled a very small smile. “Would be nice to say hi...” 

“Yeah, cuz you think she’s pretty. Even with the hood,” Pickles teased. 

“She is,” Nathan said. “Don’t make it weird when she’s around us, okay? We don’t wanna creep her out.” 

“Don’t worry, I won’t ruin it for ya,” Pickles replied as he shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth. “You’ll get your chance with pretty mail girl.” 

“Not ifs Murderface gets it firsts,” Toki said. “Ams almost normal lookings now.” 

They all stared at Toki, then at Murderface. 

“Huh...you do look decent. I mean, still weird to see, but I don’t know, it works somehow,” Pickles said, breaking the brief silence. 

Nathan nodded. “Still not getting her number though.” 

“I won’t even try,” Murderface replied, rolling his eyes. He could worry about getting groupies with his new look after all his work was done. Normally, he’d have been all over the idea right away, but this was different. 

“Nots going to beats my numbers,” Skwisgaar muttered. “But yous looks okay. Almost goods, even.” 

“What can I schay, I know what looksch good,” Murderface smiled. “I was right about my schorts being schexy as hell, now with thisch--I’m gonna be irresistible.” 

He shoveled his food in quick as the conversation moved on to some bullshit about Toki wanting more groupies at the end of each concert. He had more important concerns. He’d get the suit ready with all of the knives he’d set aside for the project, and figure out where to go for his first target. If he could, he’d head out for it tonight. 

As soon as he was done with his plate, he dashed back to his room and started putting them away. It was fun, with so many hidden pockets to fill. He’d never get caught without a weapon, and once he was done it would go back to its spot--no murder weapons to be left behind. 

“Perfect,” he breathed as he finished the suit and held it up in front of himself. 

“Is it?” 

Charles’ voice made him jump. He hadn’t even heard him come in. 

“How the hell...what the...you should learn how to knock!” Murderface yelled, carefully folding the suit in close to his chest, as if he could somehow prevent Charles from seeing it any further.

“Sorry,” Charles replied, a smirk on his face. 

Murderface felt sweat pooling on his face. Charles wasn’t supposed to know about this part of things. Just to know when the assholes were dead, so he could start the legal paperwork. “Uh...now you know my costume is really perfect! I’m gonna look great!” 

“You will,” Charles agreed. “Also, 4242.” 

“What does that mean?” Murderface asked. 

“The first executive you’re going to kill. The code to his penthouse door is 4242,” Charles replied matter-of-factly. 

Murderface knew his jaw was hanging open, but he couldn’t help it. How in the hell had he figured it all out?

“All the details for your orders lead to someone far away from here. Some ass in Ohio who keeps trying to scalp Dethklok tickets. If the worst happens, and they start tracking anyone down to nail for these killings, it’ll be that jerk. Not you,” Charles continued. 

“How did you--” Murderface started. 

“Does it really matter?” Charles asked. “Point is, you’re doing a good job of keeping your tracks covered--I’m just going to make sure they stay covered.” 

“How do I know you aren’t gonna fuck me over though?” Murderface asked. If there would be anyone to turn him in, he would guess Charles would be the first to do it. 

Charles looked genuinely hurt at that. “Look, I get it. I’m not fun, I don’t seem like the type to let you get away with this. Just--just know I’ve got my reasons for wanting you to be successful in this endeavor. I won’t fuck you over.” 

“What, you’ve got bodies buried out in a desert schomewhere too?” Murderface asked, snorting. 

Charles didn’t laugh. Didn’t chuckle. Didn’t move an inch. That was scary as fuck. 

“Uh, never mind. You don’t gotta anschwer that,” Murderface said quickly. 

Charles sighed. ‘Look, he leaves for the Bahamas soon. So we need to get you out to him by this time tomorrow. And to the rest fairly quickly too, if we want this thing shut down by Halloween.” 

“You...you don’t like the haunted housche either?” Murderface asked. He’d figured Charles honestly didn’t give that much of a fuck about it. 

“Of course I don’t,” Charles scoffed. “Makes you look bad, and by association, the band. You don’t deserve it, and neither do the guys. But I haven’t found a way to touch them yet legally, so this...well, it’ll be perfect.” 

Murderface was struck. Granted, he was just as concerned about the band as he was for him, but...someone gave a shit. Honestly, truly, cared. 

“I’ll let you know when the plane is ready. Get packed,” Charles instructed as he turned and headed for the door. 

“You know where they all are?” Murderface asked. “You’re schure?” 

“I wouldn’t send you if I wasn’t,” Charles replied as he left. “I’ll have an alibi for your absence, in case any of the guys notice. So just go with it, okay?” 

Murderface nodded, and rushed to pack as Charles footsteps faded down the hallway. 

In six days time, all the assholes would be dead, and everything would be good again. 

The excitement was delicious.

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

The plane ride was quick, yet not quick enough. Still, before he knew it, he was in front of the penthouse building. It wasn’t too far from Mordhaus, only about fifty miles. He’d expected to have to travel longer, but was glad he didn’t have to. 

It was a busy enough place that crowds bustled around him, and he could drift past people through the doors without anyone glancing at him. The security guard was asleep, and there was no one else in the lobby. He didn’t want to jinx it, but it almost seemed like it would be easy. 

Then again, it wasn’t like there was much to stare at. He looked like any other guy coming to stay with someone in the building, in a black tee and jeans that Charles had waiting on the plane for him. The black duffel bag that held his suit and mask looked like any other travel bag. He was just a visitor, no one to look twice at. 

It was an incredibly freeing feeling. He’d never thought he would miss being anonymous, but it was nice for a short time. 

The service elevator wasn’t even hidden; he found it down a hall just off of the lobby. On the ride up to the penthouse, he changed, his hands shaking. He stowed the bag in the small room that housed the upper level entrance to the elevator, then started down the hall to the door of the penthouse.

The design of which was gross even to him. It might have been called a penthouse, but it was technically the first two top floors--in his mind, it was bigger than a penthouse then. 

But he wasn’t there to argue exactly what this guy’s home qualified as. He punched the code into the door panel, grabbed a large kitchen knife from one pocket sheath, and started into the dark home. 

A bachelor, and it showed by the state of the penthouse. There was still a pile of coke laying on the living room table, which was just showy and ridiculous to Murderface. Erotic art covered the walls, and while he owned a few of the same pieces himself, even this was a bit of overkill. You could barely see the wall behind the art there was so much of it. 

A light shone in the darkness, probably a bedroom. He moved towards it, as quiet as he could manage. 

“Jasmine?” a raspy voice called out. “I didn’t expect you tonight, baby. I’m not gonna pay you for a surprise visit; I hope you know that. But I’ll be happy to have some company.” 

This was it. Murderface gripped the knife tight, and charged into the room. 

The executive was in a open robe and boxers, and stared in shock at Murderface. 

“What in the--” he started.

Murderface stepped forward and shoved the knife into his open mouth. It was hard to yank back out, but the choking noises were incredibly satisfying to hear as he stabbed again and again--the man’s fat gut, his chest, slashing across his arms as he back up and fell to the bed, raising them to try and defend himself. Blood was splattered across his mask, and sweat dripped down his face, but he was enjoying the exertion--which would figure. The only exercise he’d enjoy would have to be illegal. 

Finally, the executive stopped moving. His intestines were falling out of him, and blood drenched the silver silk sheets and painted the walls. It was glorious. 

“One down,” he muttered to himself. “Two and how many extras to go.” 

He checked three times for a pulse before he left. The walk out was as easy as the walk in too--he changed again in the elevator, using a rag in the bag to wipe his boots clean, and walked past the same guard who was still fast asleep. 

The air tasted sweeter outside. It was cliche, but so true. He felt good--he always talked about doing shit, but so often didn’t. It felt amazing to finally do something. 

And he was excited to do more.

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

He slept on the plane ride home, not bothering or caring to check the time. He’d get home when he’d get home, and deal with any questions from the guys if any of them were up. He hadn’t left too late, so they were likely to still be stumbling around watching TV or something. 

Sure enough, they were all squished together on a couch, seemingly half asleep. They bounced back to wakefulness once he walked in though. 

“You dog!” Pickles shouted. “We heard about her; Charles told us everything! Toki was right, the hair was the problem. Now you’re getting models!” 

He grinned as Pickles charged towards him and slapped him on the back. He kept a tight hold of his duffel bag as he was steered towards the couch. He didn’t want any of them getting curious and searching through it. This was a hell of an alibi that Charles had given him. 

“So?” Skwisgaar asked expectantly. 

“What?” Murderface asked. “The model?” 

“Yeah!” Nathan exclaimed. “How was she?”

“Uh, amazing, of course,” Murderface replied, hoping he sounded less awkward than he felt. “Juscht wild, you know how models are.” 

“Looks at him,” Skwisgaar chuckled, and gently patted his cheek. “Still all sweaty and disgustings. Goods for you!” 

Murderface just nodded and smiled. This was all good and fun (though it would be more fun if Charles also could supply him with an actual model to date) but he was still tired. And he needed to get his stuff into his room and clean it all up. 

“Look at that grin,” Nathan laughed. “God, are you finally gonna be fun? That’s awesome, if you are.” 

“Yeah!” Toki added. “Then wes all gets ladies for afters our shows, and everybody ams happy! Oh wowee, we gotta takes you out to celebrates!” 

“Yeah,” Murderface agreed as he stood from the couch. “Schome night later this week maybe. Or hey, what about Halloween? Big night out to celebrate!” 

They cheered. They’d never been this enthusiastic for one of his suggestions before. Was it the hair, the alibi and fake accomplishment, or the real confidence from the murder that he’d been missing all this time to get them to really like him? He wasn’t sure, but he knew he wasn’t ever going back to what he was before. 

“That sounds like fun, and I hate to interrupt the planning,” Charles said, suddenly in the room. They needed to put a damn bell on him. “Can I borrow Murderface for a moment though? After all, I’m sure he needs to actually get some sleep now!” 

Their happy laughter echoed down the halls as Charles gently pulled him away from the couch and to his room.

He shut and locked the door, and gestured to two plush armchairs at one wall of the massive bedroom. “Have a seat. You deserve the rest. Scotch okay?”

Murderface nodded and took in the room. It was very...Charles. Richly yet plainly decorated. All black and red, almost something out of Dracula’s castle with the velvet everywhere, yet nothing stood out about it to declare it as Charles’. The chair was comfy, if nothing else. 

He dropped his back by him as he dropped into the chair, and gratefully took the glass of scotch from Charles. 

“So...how was it?” Charles asked. 

He took a breath. “It wasch...amazing. I can’t wait for the next one.” 

He felt his cheeks flush as Charles grinned. 

“I’m glad you had fun. I figured you would, but I wanted to check in just in case. I’m proud of you for this, you know,” Charles said. “This is quite an undertaking. But you’re doing wonderfully.” 

Murderface nodded. “Thanksch.” 

The silence sat for a moment before Charles broke it. 

“You want to know why I’m so invested.” 

He nodded. “I mean...I get it. You take care of usch, and all our bullschit. But this...you’re really exschited for this.” 

Charles tossed back the scotch in his glass and smiled. “Well. I can’t tell you everything. In fact, there’s more I can’t tell you than there is that I can. But I--I had my own reasons to do this sort of violence you’re doing now. The why doesn’t matter so much anymore, not to me at least. But that’s because the people I needed dead are in the ground, rotting, and no longer a threat to me. And that is...very freeing.” 

“You feel safe,” Murderface found himself whispering, so quietly his speech impediment didn’t have a chance to start. 

Charles nodded, but his eyes were on his empty glass. “Yes. I suppose that’s the best way to describe it.” 

“Did you enjoy it?” Murderface asked. 

Charles chuckled. “I think you know the answer to that already.” 

He nodded. “Yeah. Bet you’d be out here doing these yourschelf if you could.” 

Charles sat up a bit straighter. “I mean...it would be fun. To do it again. Even just once. But I don’t want to take away from your fun.” 

“I’ll need help at the haunted housche,” Murderface replied. “I’ve got to take out the team lead, but there’ll be a bunch of actorsch we can take down too...I don’t want to be overwhelmed by anyone fighting back. You could come with, if you think you can make it.” 

Charles looked happier than he’d ever seen him before. “If you really want me to; I’d love to. I don’t get out very often anymore.” 

“It schows,” Murderface scoffed before he could catch his tongue. He looked nervously at Charles, awaiting the lecture.

Instead, Charles threw his head back and laughed. “Fuck. It does, doesn’t it? All work and no play...Yeah. I’ll come with for the haunted house. You can have fun with the second executive on your own first though.” 

“I schuppose you’ll have all the info for me about him by tomorrow?” Murderface smiled. 

“Of course,” Charles replied as they slowly stood and went to the door. He unlocked it, handed him the duffel bag, and patted Murderface’s back gently as he walked out. “Get some good sleep--you’re going to need the energy.” 

“What? Isch this guy schome sort of Olympian-executive or schomething?” he asked. 

Charles shook his head. “But you should be well-rested before these, uh, little adventures no matter what. Better form, and then you won’t tire out halfway through things.” 

Murderface nodded. “Hey...uh, thanksch. For all of thisch. I mean, I’d probably be fine on my own too, but--” 

Charles just nodded back. “I get it. Have a good night, Murderface.” 

The door clicked shut behind him as he started down the hall towards his room. He was definitely ready to sleep some more. But the morbid curiosity was gnawing at him too--what other skeletons did Charles have in his closet, and what exactly had he done to put them there?

Maybe he’d find out after Halloween night, if he could get him to join them for celebratory drinks. He hoped he would. 

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