#before revealing that this is a completely lost film
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Sara Reads an Infuriating Book, part 2
Chapter 2 of W Scott Poole's Wasteland is entitled "Waxworks". This is where I got angry enough to start taking notes in earnest rather than just annotating the ebook, so this is longer and has more actual quotes.
First, a disclaimer: I do not in any way disbelieve that WWI had a huge impact on early 20th century horror. Of course it did; how could it not? What I object to is Poole's assertion that it is the only thing that could possibly have had such an impact and that that impact always and only comes in the form of fear of bodily death and the corpse as an object of horror. Any time anyone gives you a Grand Unified Theory of Horror that claims to explain all of reasons that humans create scary or disturbing art, that theory is never going to be correct. People are more complex than that. And now, bullet points!
Okay, first off, I do have to apologize for ranting about Poole talking about Machen's "The Bowmen" without actually talking about it last chapter, because he talks about the story explicitly in this chapter. This is a structural thing he does repeatedly: he'll mention a writer/director/etc and hint at a work he's going to discuss later without actually naming it. (In this chapter, he does this with Fritz Lang and Metropolis.) This structural choice is not well-signposted and I don't care for it, but at least now I know that's what he's doing.
He also touches on Lovecraft again here, so I apologize as well for accusing him of skipping ol' Howie. Here, we talk briefly about "Herbert West: Re-animator", as it's the only Lovecraft story to a) actually feature WWI explicitly and b) deal much with corpses. There's also this quote about Cthulhu which is...a big fucking stretch: "He raised great Cthulhu, a monster that has haunted the century, a new death’s head spreading wide his black wings of apocalypse, which was clearly recognizable as the Great War and its meaning continued to menace the world."
Like, there is absolutely an argument to be made that WWI was a major influence on the invention of cosmic horror at the beginning of the 20th century. Again, how could it not be? WWI was proof for a lot of people that the universe fundamentally didn't care about them. But that's the thing that I don't think Poole gets - cosmic horror is not about the fear that you are going to die. Cosmic horror doesn't care about your corpse because it doesn't care about you. Cosmic horror is about the fear that no one cares that you exist at all. That is a huge and important difference.
As the chapter title implies, there is a lot of repeated discussion this chapter of waxworks, dolls, puppets, poppets, etc. Poole insists over and over again that a) all of these simulacra can be collapsed symbolically into a single image and that image is of a corpse and b) these objects became horrific after WWI because of the corpse thing. But then he'll go through the history of the fascination with creepy wax figures stretching back to wax images of saints through Madame Tussaud's Chamber of Horrors, or he'll talk about dolls and reference E T A Hoffman's The Sandman (from 1817), which, to my mind, totally undercuts his point. You don't need the Great War to make waxworks creepy, my dude.
(Somewhat relatedly - there is a really interesting book to be written about the prevalence of hypnotism/mind control/sleepwalking in early horror film, but it is not going to be this book because Poole thinks all that's happening there is more corpses.)
Which leads us to the discussion of The Cabinet of Caligari! Poole spends a lot of time rehashing a widely accepted interpretation of the film proposed by Siegfried Kracauer in his 1947 book From Caligari to Hitler: Kracauer reads the film as a warning about the dangers of authoritarianism, with the somnambulist Cesare standing in for the people of Europe who unconsciously do the evil bidding of their authoritarian masters. Not saying that's the only possible reading of the film - I don't believe there's only one possible reading of any film - but it's an interesting and persuasive one. 'Nope!' says Poole. See, his theory is that the filmmakers wanted to get artist Alfred Kubin to design the look of the film (he did not end up working on the film), Kubin's work has a lot of doll-like figures in it, dolls are always corpses, and therefore Caligari is, once again, only about how all those people died in the war. This is the only thing the filmmakers could have meant.
(On the positive side, this did lead me to look up the art of Alfred Kubin, which I was previously unfamiliar with. It's pretty rad.)
"There’s not enough evidence, for example, that the world understood that their somnambulistic obedience helped produce the outrages of the Great War." I don't see that the world as a whole has to see that in order for the film to attempt to convey that meaning - surely what matters is that the filmmaker saw it and made a film about it. It's not necessary for the world to understand the meaning behind a work of art for a person to make that work of art.
(Somewhat ironically, Poole complains that Kracauer is only capable of interpreting German film in the 1920s through the lens of his pet theory. Who does that remind me of? Couldn't say.)
Oh my god this is already so long, I haven't even talked about J'accuse. Poole thinks J'accuse is a zombie movie which I won't argue because I've only read about it and haven't seen it yet - that could be a valid interpretation for all I know. But then he compares it unfavorably to Romero zombie films and complains that the director of J'accuse "did not really know what to do with [his zombies]", just because they rise from their graves, make their point, and then return to their graves. The entire point of the film is to make the viewer bear witness to the dead. Poole even says this: "The film’s theme of marital infidelity, that inescapable trope in the cinema of the Great War, became a symbol for the larger question of whether the nation had been faithful to the cause of its soldiers. The dead came back to make sure they had." What else did you want the zombies to do???
God, the whole section about Vampyr made me crazy. Poole is all, "Carl Theodore Dreyer had little connection to the war and I’m not going to show any actual evidence that the war had an impact on his work but he made Vampyr in 1932 and it’s weird and scary and full of shadows and creepy imagery, so obviously it’s about WWI." (nb not at all an actual quote.) There's just no acknowledgement that a person might make a horror film that was inspired by something that happened to them that wasn't WWI. Hell, there's no acknowledgement that a person might make a horror film because they like making spooky stuff. I was a monster kid basically from birth - I suffered no trauma to make me that way. I certainly didn't participate in WWI. Explain that, W Scott Poole.
Lastly, he's just factually wrong about The Phantom of the Opera, in that he claims that the 1925 film presents no explanation for Erik's deformity, unlike the novel. This is not correct - there is no reason for his deformity in the novel either. Later films added that. The lack of explanation in the 1925 film is not a response to mutilated war veterans; it's just an accurate adaptation. Poole says, "No one in the Western world could have looked at the visage of Lon Chaney and not thought of what the French called the gueules cassées…" and maybe that's true, but he's just stating a theory based on a mistake and presenting no evidence.
On the plus side, I'm making a very cool list of books I want to read from the works cited, and also some films that I haven't gotten around to seeing yet.
#i left out the bit where he talks for several paragraphs about the first italian horror film: 'il mostro di frankenstein'#before revealing that this is a completely lost film#to the point that what remains of it is some promotional materials a photo one still and a single contemporary review#but he's sure that it supports his thesis#and also the bit where i'm sad every day that i don't have a time machine that would allow me to attend performances at the grand guignol#sara reads an infuriating book
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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 CHANEL GIRLFRIENDS kim minji x fem!reader
🎸★ ͘ ⴰ yn of lesserafim and minji of new jeans, both are ambassadors of the worldwide known luxury brand chanel, they’re also known as the chanel girlfriends.
a series of short oneshots and compilations that convinced the world that the “chanel girlfriends” are definitely not just two girls who are friends.
PARING — kim minji x lsrfm!reader
minji pulling a reverse card on yn for five minutes 987k views
previous. masterlist. next
🎸★ ͘ ⴰ clip one
"I honestly don't know why filming tiktoks is taken so seriously," yn remarked to the camera as she strolled through the bustling halls of hybe. "filming behind-the-scenes for it seems a bit dramatic, don't you think?" she chuckled, her playful demeanor momentarily halted when her manager shot her a scolding glare
"I think you guys will be happy with who I'm doing this trend with," yn continued, her tone laced with mischief. "on weverse, I mentioned seeing natty and julie from kiss of life do this, and I wanted to try it too, but not with my boring members," she teased, fully aware that her bandmates would likely come for her for the comment later. "so, I asked who you wanted me to do this with, and I'm fulfilling your wishes."
as yn continued her walk, the oldest member of new jeans came into view, waiting for her with a warm smile. yn reciprocated the smile as she introduced minji to the camera, the latter waving in acknowledgment.
“minji will be doing this with me.” yn smiles as the girl waved at the camera.
"this might take a while since I fluster minji a lot," yn remarked to the camera, earning a playful scowl from minji. "anything I do, she will mess up."
“what are you even talking about.” she says yn’s pushing yn’s shoulder lightly, rolling her eyes when yn dramatically throws herself back, “that’s not true.”
after bickering, the girls set up the phone before filming, the audio of the song played and they start, minji points her fingers towards yn keeping her gaze on the girl waiting for her to dance but all yn does is turn away.
“don’t look at me!” she says covering her face and walking away only to be pulled back by minji, “why were you looking so intensely?!”
"I have to look at you, I need to face you, that's part of the trend," minji explained, trying to coax yn’s hands away from her face, chuckling at yn’s visible fluster as she backed away.
"I need to go on a walk," yn declared, feeling overwhelmed by the situation as she dramatically tried to exit.
“what?! no come on let’s do this.”
it took them five times to get in right all thanks to yn, but hey it was worth it in the end the fans loved the video.
🎸★ ͘ ⴰ clip two
yn, completely immersed in the music and the interaction with her fans, spun around in her chair with enthusiasm, belting out the lyrics, the room echoed with her joyous singing as she twirled, lost in the moment.
unbeknownst to her, the door creaked open, revealing minji's arrival. With a mischievous grin, minji grabbed the arm of yn’s spinning chair, abruptly halting its motion and causing yn to let out an unexpected scream of surprise.
"you scared me!" yn exclaimed, hand pressed against her chest as she shot minji a playful glare, though her heart was still racing from the sudden interruption.
minji chuckled at yn’s reaction, unfazed by the accusation. "all I did was stop your chair," she retorted casually, shrugging off yn’s accusation of sneaking up on her.
"no, you snuck up on me!" yn insisted, turning back to face her live audience, who were now buzzing with excitement at minji's unexpected appearance. "she's so obsessed with me that she couldn't wait until after the live to see me."
a blush crept onto minji's cheeks momentarily before she scoffed in disbelief. "what are you even saying at this point?"
"I'm saying you're obsessed," yn teased, continuing to ramble and poke fun at minji, who tried her best to maintain her composure despite the girl's relentless banter. with a sigh, minji glanced at the comments scrolling by, standing behind yn’s chair and wrapping her arms around yn’s shoulders from behind, resting her chin on yn’s head.
"why'd you stop talking?" minji asked, unable to see yn’s face directly since she was now positioned behind her.see.
"you're being touchy,"yn responded, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she tried to regain her focus, flustered by minji's unexpected affectionate gesture.
🎸★ ͘ ⴰ clip three
minji smiled when yn sat beside her waving to the live, “I came to visit!” yn exclaims.
“it’s been a while since yn has been with me on live right?” minji says while the fans on live comment about how long they’ve been waiting for yn and minji to do a live again.
“you guys better be grateful I’m here.” yn says pointing at the live, “chaewon unnie almost didn’t let me go because it’s our day off.” in reality that wasn’t the reason chaewon almost forced yn home at all, as soon as she heard that yn was going to hang out with a certain new jeans member she flipped, especially after last time.
minji sent yn and alarmed look before reading the comments, “yn tell us about meeting jennie in paris.”
yn’s face lit up and she immediately got into the details of meeting the blackpink member and like always once you get yn to talk about something it’s hard to stop her.
minji, fully engrossed in yn’s storytelling, suddenly noticed how the girl was slightly not in the frame. without missing a beat, she smoothly adjusted, tugging YN's chair closer with a casual, nonchalant gesture, ensuring the girl was perfectly within the frame.
yn paused for a second, obviously feeling slightly flustered by the action.
"what?" minji inquired innocently, her gaze fixed on yn, unwavering and intense.
all yn did was shake her head and get back into her story, while yn was talking to the live, it was like she could feel minji’s gaze on her causing yn to fidget uncomfortably in her seat. finally, unable to ignore the scrutiny, yn turned to meet minji's gaze, only to find the other girl still staring back with slight intensity.
the embarrassment creeping up her cheeks, yn quickly averted her gaze, focusing once again on the live broadcast. "stop that!" she blurted out, hoping to distract herself from the overwhelming feeling of minji’s stare.
#new jeans x reader#kim minji x reader#kim minji#minji x reader#minji#minji new jeans#lesserafim#girl group imagines#new jeans#new jeans imagines
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The not so subtle sentimentality of Mordecai Heller
With the Lackadaisy Short Film teaser trailer hitting over 800K views one line from Serafine got me thinking about a side of Mordecai that is not often discussed but is crucial to his character and may play a key part in the comics story before the end
Though it is easy for both other characters in the story and readers to see Mordecai as just a cold killer that cares more about stains on his shirt than ending multiple lives in grizzly ways (and that is true for anyone who makes the mistake of getting in the way of him completing his work) a closer look reveals that, while reserved for a short list of people, there is a strong streak of sentimentality hidden behind the buttoned down aloof professional persona he tries so hard to maintain
His Mother and Sisters
Mordecai was dealt a very bad starting hand in life. With his father dying when he and his sisters were still very young, despite his loving and hard working mother doing her best to provide for them, the family lived in poverty in the slums of New York
As a result Mordecai has to start working at a very early age and being naturally gifted with numbers he becomes a book keeper and soon enough gets drawn into running the numbers for gambling and loan sharking gangs.
All of this was done to try and make life better for his mother and his sisters. In a flashback to when he was on the run from the criminals he had been working for after being caught embezzling funds from them, his life is in danger and he needs to get out of town in a hurry and so jumps on a train in either 1920 or 1921.
Despite this he fixates on writing a letter to send to his mother in which he explains the location of his ill gotten savings and urges her to move with his sisters to cleaner better ventilated housing.
Because the money wasn’t primarily for his benefit
Mordecai clearly loved his sisters very much and they could break him out of his reserved bookish demeanor. We can see even as an adult Modecai holds the memory of his childhood with his sisters, impoverished and hard though it clearly was, very close. Close enough that thinking about them are enough to bring out his very small but very genuine smile that could not be further away from his “ice pick look”.
Atlas
The next imporant relationship in his life is with Atlas May. When on that getaway train he soon realized that cut throats from his former employers are already in the carriage waiting for their moment to pounce
Mordecai is 100% certain that he is about to get a bullet to the head and the tunnel will provide the hitmen with the perfect cover as the darkness and noise descends.
Only for a ray of light to suddenly appear
Atlas gave Mordecai the means to survive, not just by literally giving him what he needed to escape his would be murderers, but by employing him and providing a new purpose when he had nowhere else to go and no idea what to do.
Atlas being dead by the time of the main story, by design we know very little about his personality and relationships with others except for what the people who knew him have to say.
But is is very clear that Mordecai felt a deep loyalty to Atlas. It may even be speculated that he became a surrogate father figure for him, having lost his own father so young and having been moulded while working for him from the scared youth in shabby second hand clothes to a dapper professional bookkeeping bootlegger
This loyalty has not ended with Atlas’s death. He is determined to get to the bottom of the mystery of his murder. This is despite the fact it would be a much smarter move by far for the sake of both professionalism and survival to let dead former employers lie and simply carry out his new role with the Marigold gang no questions asked
Instead it is clear the entire reason he has abandoned The Lackadaisy is not, as Mitzi and the rest think, cold self interest but so he can investigate if the rival gang had any role in his mentors death
Even discussing the topic causes his cold passive exterior to crack and makes him look broken and overwhelmed
Viktor (You knew this was coming)
As anyone who has followed this account will know this is one of my (and many other fans) favourite dynamics in the series
At fist it seems there is little reason for these two to have any kind of bond. Mordecai is pretty much obsessed with good grooming, high quality tailoring, correct grammar, and tends to go on one-sided rambles when perturbed.
This clashes hard with the surly Slovak who is often unshaven, relatively casual in his attire, speaks a broken English, and hates people chattering or “noise, noise, noise” as he calls it. Indeed the two often bicker and act as if they can’t stand the other
However for whatever reason, in spite of these big differences, the big bruiser mechanic and the fussy nerdy sharp shooter are able to work very well together and soon become key weapons in Atlas’s arsenal
And in spite of their differences there is evidence, that over the course of the roughly six years they were working together before their bosses death, that these two extremely anti-social personalities actually began to form an unlikely rapport
On the one known occasion when Mordecai actually drank strong alcohol, and predictably got hilariously drunk, one of his chosen topics of conversation is his “friend” Viktor and how “great” he is (including a possibly telling comment about his large physique *cough*)
Mordecai also, despite being the type of person who you would assume would just radiate Scrooge energy, makes a point of buying Viktor a Christmas/hanukka present. Though he keeps up appearances by presenting it as another criticism of Viktor’s fashion sense
Tellingly Viktor voluntarily wears the tie for the rest of the day, something only Ivy (someone Viktor treats as a surrogate daughter) is able to get away with as well.
The two also not only work well together in a professional capacity, but seem to truly look out for each others welfare when on the job. Not only does Mordecai save Viktor from being shot while distracted, Viktor then goes out of his way to retrieve Mordecai’s pince-nez from the staircase of a burning building
While a hilarious moment as Mordecai fails to react in the “correct” way to having just survived a bloody shoot out, it also sums up his entire attitude to people, that he separates the world into those who count and those who don’t. The former are a short list
Viktor, along with the others on here, counts for Mordecai
This is made clear at his chat with Mitzi at the lunch meeting.
Mordecai may have kneecapped Viktor when he left the Lackadaisy gang, but from what we know now this was clearly an attempt to get Viktor out of harms way by forcing him to retire from bootlegging, and quite possibly to avoid Marigold putting him in a position where he would have to fight Viktor if he was told to finish off the failing speakeasy. Something he could hardly refuse if he wanted to keep investigating Atlas’s death
Mitzi seems to know Viktor is a chink in Mordecai’s armour, and of course exploits that to the fullest. When she informs him that his theft of the Lackadaisy arsenal put Viktors life in danger Mordecai’s face makes less than neutral expression
As Mitzi keeps twisting that screw Mordecai knows he is in danger of giving something away and with Asa right next to him he needs to restore his barriers.
In this case quite literally using a menu to cover his face to ensure he doesn’t slip up again
It seem to work as Asa laughs of the idea of Mordecai having a heart beneath the cold exterior (something we know is a big mistake)
Even when the attention is off him and the topic of conversation moves on his gaze remains firmly fixed down at the table.
Until Atlas lets slip some crucial information about Atlas’s last days. So much for there being “no heartstrings to tug on”
I am sure the Lackadaisy Animated Movie is going to be amazing and hopefully will only lead to ever more popularity and attention for this amazing world and its characters
#lackadaisy#lackadaisycats#tracy j butler#mordecai heller#viktor vasko#vikdecai#viktor x mordecai#asa sweet#zippy heller#rose heller#esther heller#atlas may#mitzi may#1920s#cats#calvin mcmurray#rocky rickaby#ivy pepper
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I've been watching Disney's "The Princess and the Frog" and I've been thinking about a request based on the scene where Naveen makes a dinner for Tiana where he intends to confess to her. I wanted a request like that with Floyd x Yuu and unlike the film, Floyd manages to confess. And maybe there's a little dancing too
I would be very happy if you placed my request, I will wait patiently for it :)
I LOVVEE DISNEY MOVIESSS bro my friend has never watched The Princess and the Frog and I lost my mind. How have you NOT watched only one of the most amazing disney movies to exist?! Insane. BUT YES I like this!
Floyd Confessing his feelings to you
Based off of the princess and the frog scene <3
General warnings: Gender neutral reader
TW: None! Just fluff, and awkwardness!
The night was young, the stars were shining bright overhead smiling down at the eager boy. Floyd wasn't all that familiar with customs about love and affection, but he knew the moment his heart fluttered simply seeing you complete tasks seemingly so mundane making him blush sent him into a frenzy. Love and Floyd? The two in the same sentence sounded completely insane!
But when Floyd says he is in love, he truly commits to the bit.
There he was, leading you by the hand much to your surprise and mild amusement.
"Where are you taking me?" You asked the tall male, who flashed you a charming toothy grin and a giddy chuckle.
"It's a surprise, shrimpy. To celebrate somethingggg.."
You eyed him curiously as you entered the Octavinelle lounge, seeing it so deserted besides strung up lights and plates of food neatly upon the table caused you to gasp in shock, almost tearing up at the sight and near notion that somebody would take their time to prepare such a grandiose display for you.
"It's for you! Do ya like it?" Floyd almost sang, pulling out a rose, "I heard this is the best way to romance someone. Is it working?" You almost burst out laughing, but you just knew he couldn't help but be honest about his intentions, one of the many things that you loved about this merman.
"Nobody has ever done anything like this for me," You replied with affection, gracefully grabbing hold of the rose from his hand and taking a quick smell and observing it. When you looked back up from the flower, you noticed Floyd suddenly had a...rather large bowtie on that you knew for certain was not there before. It almost looked silly, the way it was bigger than his neck and flared out in such a...flamboyant way. You pursed your lips in an attempt to hold back the laughter that threatened to reveal itself, biting your bottom lip and nodding in 'approval'. Floyd noticed this and with a blush upon his embarrassed cheeks, he was quick to remove and throw aside the article of clothing.
"you're right, I knew it was too much," Floyd grumbled, eying a corner of the lounge where the strung up lights did not touch.
"I thought it was a nice touch..." You heard a hushed and disappointed voice from somewhere unknown to you, your eyes searching the room before Floyd grabbed you by the shoulders to avert your attention to the table neatly put together.
"Pretend you didn't see that. Or hear that." Seeing the normally suave and outgoing male so shy and flustered, you couldn't stop the smile on your lips widening at such a rare sight.
"Floyd- the seat- the seat!" Another voice that wasn't so discreet called out, Floyd gasping and running to your side before you had the chance to sit down.
"Let me- uh- here. I mean- have a seat," He pulled the seat out and invited you forward, pushing it in, "I saw this in a movie-"
"don't admit that!" ...said the voice from nowhere to be seen. You pressed your lips together tighter, trying not to howl in laughter. This was all just too cute...you've never seen such a side to him, and his grand gestures of gentlemanly was so out of place for his personality you couldn't help but bite back your giggles of amusement.
"Shut up Azul!" Floyd whisper-yelled back to a dark corner of the lounge. Noticing your skeptical gaze, Floyd ran over to one of the tables to grab a silver platter, bringing it to you and opening the lid with excitement in his eyes in hopes to distract you from the bickering.
"Oh? what's this?" You cooed, tilting your head as he brought over the large platter.
"Ta-Daaaa~" He sang, removing the lid. Upon seeing the dish he had prepared, you gasped and clapped in excitement.
"You made it all by yourself!" You cried out, noticing the plate of pretty (surprisingly) well-prepared food that you recall teaching him how to make some time the months prior. Floyd puffed out his chest in pride and nodded firmly.
"Yeahh! I did a good job, riighht?"
The "empty" corner coughed an obvious "pushy" cough that was seemingly a cue for the hopeless romantic to begin his actual speech and cut the small talk.
"Y/n!- ah-" He interrupted himself, "Sorry that was kinda loud...uhh..." You could see him begin to sweat bullets, his eyes wavering as he looked in panic anywhere but you, shaky hands pressing against the table.
"I'm just gonna say it. Among all the people i've dated-" You raised an eyebrow and nodded awkwardly, folding your hands and waiting to see where he was going with this. Floyds jaw slacked open for a moment of realization.
"wait- no. Jade said I can't bring up dating anyone else. Even those were just play dates when we were kids. And they were all boring" Floyd pausing mid-statement and attempting to bring the conversation back to the point.
"B-but you're not boring! You're amazing! like- uh-"
"Play it cool!" The mysterious voice threw out a word of advice.
"Like one of the guys-"
"Not one of the guys, you idiot!" Azul (it was fairly obvious who the voice belonged to) chastised him.
"Ehh?? Than what do I say?!"
"How you feel, brother." Jade followed.
Floyd must have been focused too much on driving the conversation how he had wanted it to, leaning all of his weight onto one side of the table causing it to tip over, the silver platter and the tall male both falling to the ground with a loud "bang!". You could hear slaps from the corner of the lounge, presumably one or two other people slapping their foreheads in astonished embarrassment for their friend and brothers hopeless attempts.
"uughhh.." Floyd whined like his usual self, "This isn't going how I wanted it to." when you finally couldn't hold it back any longer, you burst out laughing with hands holding your stomach. Floyd sat up in annoyance and looked at you with sadness glinting within his multi-colored eyes, his lips forming a pout.
"I get it, itsa disaster..." You shook your head at his woeful comment, wiping a tear from laughing.
"No," you gently replied, "it's cute." You wiped off a piece of food that stuck to the top of Floyd's head, bending down to his level and kissing his cheek.
"Floyd, I don't need all of this fancy stuff. Just tell me how you feel your way, because I like you for you, and wouldn't want a confession any other way." He sat in silence, blinking once, blinking twice, before also bursting out in laughter. Floyd pulled you down into his arms and hugged you tightly, before spilling out his heart bluntly and honestly as he should have from the beginning.
"I see our work here is done," Jade said to Azul, taking his shoulder and leading them out of the lounge, "They have it under control now, so it seems." Azul scoffed and adjusted his glasses, eying his messy lounge.
"After they are done being lovey and dovey, I will be charging them a cleaning fee...look at that mess...it'll take special services to get that sauce out of the flooring!"
"For now, let's just be happy Floyd will stop bugging us about his crush."
"...I suppose your right, that in itself is payment enough."
So they left you two giggling and now throwing food at each other, in the fun way that is unique to your love.
<3
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#twst fanfictions#twisted wonderland fanfictions#floyd leech#floyd x reader#floyd leech x reader#floyd headcannons#floyd leech headcannons#twst floyd#floyd twisted wonderland#floyd twisted wonderland x reader#floyd leech twisted wonderland
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Cillian wants to make a sex tape to help him out when he is away from you
Love it, thanks for the request!! 🥰💋
Little fun film
◇ Pairing: Cillian Murphy x wife!Reader
◇ Warnings: smut, sex tape, age gap (both adults), kids, domestic shit
◇ Summary: Cillian is quieter than usual and Y/n can't wait to know what he has in mind.
◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.
As soon as Y/n walked in she could feel that there was something odd, there was a weird mood in the house just like when her lovely husband wanted to ask her something.
She brushed it off, though, focusing on closing the door while still holding four grocery bags— full with food and things for the kids.
Just when she was about to loose her patience and drop the bags to be able to close the door and take off her shoes, big freckled pale hands reached for them, removing the weight from her easily.
Her y/e/c eyes snapped up while her free hands made a quick motion to free her from her shoes and coat
"Thank you, darling" she hummed as her gaze met her husband's.
Cillian offered a soft smile, leaning closer to steal her a kiss before heading to their kitchen to put down the bags
"Hello, darling. How was your day?" He asked in a soft voice, accepting the unexpected hug from behind— her hands rubbed his clothed belly up to his chest while her breath hit the back of his neck
"Tiring, missed my husband" Y/n quickly replied, pecking his pale skin before putting away the things she had bought.
It took her a couple of minutes, a couple of minutes where Cillian just remained leaned against the counter, watching her almost lost in his own thoughts
"You're awfully quite today, honey. What's on your mind?" Y/n asked, interrupting his reflection
"That's because I have something I need to ask you, love— but we'll need to wait for the kids to go to bed though" Cillian revealed, moving closer to his wife to hug her hips and leave a soft peck on her lips.
Y/n's eyes were entirely on him, a soft smile on her face, a very good poker face that hide her true emotions which were pure excitement— she just nodded, kissing his lips again.
Cillian moved closer, brushing his nose against his wife's as he opened his mouth to ask her what they were going to eat, receiving another quick peck and a happy answer from Y/n
"I have an idea don't worry. Just relax and give me affection and love as I cook, pretty please" she begged cutely, smiling softly while moving to the stove.
The "old" actor smirked and walked over to her, putting his hands on her hips for the second time that evening— speaking with a teasing tone
"Is this enough love? Or do you need more, eh?" He asked, moving his body closer to hers as soon as she whispered in a soft voice
"More"
.
It was around 9pm, the kids were asleep and in their beds. Y/n just made sure of it, collecting the empty glasses of warm milk before heading to her own bedroom, stopping in the kitchen to finish a couple of things first.
She walked in the room, just leaning the door, to get ready for bed— Cillian was already there, comfortable clothes on and his book in his hand since he was waiting for her.
"So....my beautiful wife, do you know what I had in mind for you tonight?" He asked, his voice getting lower while he put down the forgotten book on the nightstand to get up and move closer to his wife— ending up in a sitting position at the edge of the bed, since Y/n kept moving around the room to complete her normal routine
"No, sir" she replied playfully, glancing at him with a soft but amused smile, chuckling at his reply
"Good, that's what makes this so great, love, it's a surprise. I told you I wanted to give you something special tonight didn't I?" Cillian hummed, reaching for her, his face burying in her tummy as soon as he got an hold on her hips and moved her closer to him.
"Now close your eyes, baby" he whispered, standing carefully up to connect their lips as soon as she closed her eyes— his hands, which were previously on her hips, now moved slowly up her body, squeezing her clothed skin before reaching the first buttons of her cute nightshirt— unbuttoning them slowly, his lips leaving soft kisses on her exposed skin.
"I want you to know, love, that tonight, you're my number one priority." Cillian whispered against her skin, moving her body down on the mattress of their bed.
Y/n kept her eyes closed, even when Cillian moved away from her to take something, maybe a condom or lube, she didn't know.
She just opened them when the sexy voice of her husband, whispered in her ear to open them, his irish accent more noticable now.
So she did, she opened her eyes and she completely froze in place, seeing him towering over her half naked body with a camera— seeing her state, Cillian just smiled and put his finger on her lips in a "shh" motion, staring at her with his piercing icy eyes, a naughty smirk on his handsome face
"I believe I have what is called, a treat for you tonight, love".
A treat, Y/n repeated in her head, her eyes moving from him to the camera as if she was asking him a silent question which had surprisingly an answer
"The video I'm going to record of us tonight, will be our own little fun film to watch whenever we need some time for ourselves, love— when I'm out of home for weeks or months because of my job and I need you so bad" he kept murmuring, leaving soft pecks on her neck in an attempt to convince her.
Feeling still her insecurity he met her eyes, running his finger in her hair
"I hope you won't mind, darling, it's just for the two of us and no one else" he reassured Y/n, pecking her lips while waiting for her answer
"I don't know— are you sure, Cill?" she quietly asked, stroking his cheekbones with her thumbs
"Trust me love, you're absolutely gorgeous and any sane man would do anything for you, you're perfect and you should take pride in that." He kissed her neck softly, hiding his excited smile as he added "But yes, I'm sure love, I'm sure."
And this way the tape started, with Cillian teasing Y/n's body, caressing and nibbling at her skin, focusing on her boobs beyond her neck— showering her with compliments.
With Y/n's mouth wrapped around his cock, sucking and swirling her tongue around it just like he liked and getting face fucked by him just like she liked.
With Cillian's mouth on her clit while his hand worked her folds, thrusting inside of her to prepare her tight pussy for his cock.
With Cillian deep balls inside of Y/n's cunt, thrusting and making love to her like he knew how to, holding her hands as her legs kept hugging his pale hips.
With Y/n bouncing on his lenght, showing off her gourgeous body, her breasts bouncing at each bounce just like they did in the missionary position.
With Cillian having a tight hold on Y/n's hips, as he thrusted in her in an almost animalistic but romantic way, taking advantage of the doggy style position to give and reach pleasure.
Ending with Y/n's pussy being filled up by Cillian, who shoot his load deep inside of her and mover the camera to record how it dripped from there.
Taglist:
@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @mrkdvidal1989
#cillian murphy fanfic#cillian murphy fic#cillian fic#cillian murphy#cillian x reader#cillian x fem!reader#cillian x y/n#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian murphy x you#cillian murphy x y/n#cillian murphy x reader
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Aching for your touch
Thank you for the request!
Tags/ warnings: gentle smut, tom and reader making up for lost time, slight fingering (kind of)
Fluff+ smut
Synopsis: Tom hasn't been home all day due to the band's managers making a Tokio Hotel TV episode. When he does come home, he makes up for the lost time.
As I sit in the brightly lit living room, my heart pounds in anticipation. The door swings open, and there he is. Tom. My love. He strides across the room, his movements a mix of exhaustion and excitement, and collapses onto the couch beside me. His eyes are bright with something I can't quite place; a combination of relief, love, and perhaps even a hint of desire. I can't help but smile as I take in his rumpled hair, his unbuttoned shirt, and the way he seems to melt into the couch, like it's been waiting all day just for him.
"Hey, baby," he breathes, reaching out to touch my cheek. His fingers are warm and gentle, and it's like a shock of electricity runs through me at his touch. "God, I've missed you."
I lean into his touch, closing my eyes for a moment as I savor the feel of his skin against mine. "I missed you too," I whisper, my voice barely above a whisper. "How was your day?"
He lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Long," he says, rubbing his eyes. "Filming that TV episode was… intense. But it was good. And now I'm just so glad to be home." He pauses, looking at me for a moment before continuing, his voice growing more serious. "I hate being away from you schatzi."
I smile up at him, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. "I know, me too. But at least we get to see each other tonight." I reach over, taking his hand in mine. His skin is so soft, and his fingers intertwine with mine perfectly.
He nods, his eyes meeting mine. "Yeah," he says, a tiny smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "And maybe… later, we can make up for all that time we spent apart." His voice drops lower, becoming husky and full of promise.
I feel a shiver run down my spine at his words, and my heart starts to race. I imagine what he means by that. Maybe he wants to cuddle up on the couch with me, or maybe… maybe he wants something more. I feel a blush creep up my neck as I try to picture it in my mind. I've always loved the way he looks at me, the way he makes me feel so desired and wanted.
"Tom?" I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "What did you mean by that?"
He smiles at me, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, I was thinking… maybe we could take this conversation to the bedroom." His fingers squeeze mine gently, and I feel a shiver of anticipation run through me at his touch.
I swallow hard, trying to find the courage to voice what I'm really thinking. "You mean… like we could…?" I trail off, unable to finish the sentence.
He nods, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Exactly like that, mein schatzi." He leans in closer, his breath hot against my ear. "I've missed feeling you under me, and I've been thinking about it all day."
My heart pounds wildly in my chest at his words. I feel a surge of desire course through me, and I know I can't wait any longer. I stand up, pulling him with me, and we stumble toward the bedroom, our lips meeting in a passionate kiss that feels like it could last for hours.
In the dim light of the bedroom, he undresses me slowly, revealing my bare skin to his hungry eyes. I watch him as he undresses, marveling at the way his muscles ripple and move beneath his skin. When he finally stands before me, completely naked, I gasp.
He grins, his eyes meeting mine. "You like what you see?" he asks, running a hand through his messy hair.
"I love what I see," I breathe, unable to look away from him. He steps closer, wrapping his arms around me, and kisses me deeply. The warmth of his skin against mine feels like heaven, and I can't help but moan into his mouth. As he holds me, I run my hands up his back, feeling the muscles tense and relax beneath my touch.
He picks me up, cradling me in his strong arms, and carries me over to the bed. The mattress dips beneath our weight as he lays me down, and I watch as he climbs on top of me, his body pressing firmly against mine. His skin is warm and smooth, and I can't help but arch into him, wanting more.
He kisses me again, this time with a hunger that leaves me breathless. His hands roam over my body, touching and teasing, making my skin tingle with anticipation. I feel his weight on me, and the pressure of him pushing against my hips. He's hard and ready, and I know what he wants. I reach down, grasping him in my hand, guiding him to where I need him to be.
His breath hitches at my touch, and he groans deep in his throat. I feel the head of him press against me, stretching me in a way that makes me gasp. He looks down at me, his eyes dark and intense, and I know he's waiting for me to tell him what to do. So I do.
"Tom," I whisper, my voice shaking with desire. "Please."
He grins, his lips curving into a wicked smile. "With pleasure, meine Liebe." And then he thrusts forward, burying himself deep inside me. It's a forceful motion, but it feels so good. I cry out, arching my back off the bed as I'm taken by surprise. He groans, his face contorting with pleasure, and begins to move, slowly at first but gaining speed as we both become lost in the moment.
His skin is slick with sweat, and I can feel the tension in his body as he holds himself above me. I reach up, running my fingers through his hair, trying to steady him and keep him with me. He looks down at me, his eyes searching mine, and I can see the love and desire that he feels for me written across his face.
As we move together, our bodies moving in perfect synchronicity, I can feel the tension building inside me. I grip his shoulders tightly, knowing that it's coming, that I'm close. He senses it too, and he speeds up, thrusting harder and deeper, driving me over the edge. I cry out his name as my body trembles with release, and he follows closely after, his voice rough and raw as he lets go.
Our breath comes in ragged gasps, our chests heaving as we try to catch our breath. He collapses on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, but I don't mind. I feel so connected to him, so completely and utterly loved. I wrap my arms around him, holding him close, knowing that this moment, right here, is everything.
He kisses my neck, his lips moving softly over my skin, and I shiver. His hand moves down between us, rubbing gentle circles on my clit, coaxing another wave of pleasure through my body. I arch into his touch, moaning into his ear. "I love you, Tom," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the sound of our hearts pounding in unison.
He presses his lips against mine again, his tongue dancing with mine, and I can feel the truth of his words resonating deep within me. He slides his fingers inside me, finding a rhythm that sends sparks of desire coursing through my veins. I thread my fingers through his hair, holding him close, feeling the strength and the tenderness of his touch.
We move together, lost in the music of our bodies, and I can't help but wonder how I ever managed to live without this feeling. His skin is so warm against mine, and I feel so safe in his arms. It's as if we were made for each other, destined to find our way back to one another no matter what obstacles stood in our way.
Outside, the rain continues to fall, a steady rhythm that mirrors the beating of our hearts. The room grows darker, but it doesn't matter. I know every inch of Tom's body by touch, and I feel his familiar shape move against mine as he thrusts deeper and faster. His mouth finds my neck again, sucking and nipping at my skin, sending shivers of pleasure down my spine.
I feel the familiar tightening in my core, the building pressure that tells me I'm close. Tom senses it too, and his movements become more urgent, more desperate. His breath comes in ragged gasps as he pushes deeper inside me, and I arch my back off the bed, my body tensing in anticipation.
With a growl of satisfaction, he follows me over the edge, his body tense as he releases himself into me. I feel him shudder against me, and it's then that I realize just how much I've needed this, how much I've missed him. He collapses onto me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, and I wrap my legs around his waist, holding him as close as I can.
The rain continues to fall outside, and the darkness deepens in the room, but it feels as if the world around us has been stripped away, leaving only the two of us together in this moment. He rolls off me, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at me. His eyes are filled with a tenderness that I haven't seen in so long, and it takes my breath away.
He reaches out, tracing a finger along my jawline, and then up to brush a strand of hair from my forehead. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. "I never want to leave you alone ever again, my dear."
A/n: hope you enjoyed! ❤️❤️
requests are open!
#tom kaulitz#tom kaulitz imagines#itsmealaiah#tom kaulitz x reader#tom kaulitz x you#tom kaulitz smut#tom kaulitz x y/n#tokio hotel x you#tokio hotel x reader#tokio hotel
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Bloodstained Rubies - Chapter IV - Repercussions
Read on AO3
Masterlist
Chapters: I; II; III
Warnings: captivity, murder, violence (not towards reader), Chrollo being a menace, obsession, controlling behaviour, Yandere Chrollo, manipulation, emotional manipulation, psychological manipulation, gaslighting, suicide threats/attempt
Word count: 6k
Your preparations were complete. This was the day. The day where you would finally escape. Just before getting on the blimp, you would enter the airport, and at the gate, you would find a way to approach security and let them know you were in danger. Chrollo had already told you that you would travel alone, just the two of you, therefore, you didn’t have to worry about any of his horrid friends giving him a hand. And yes, he was a thief, and he had superpowers, but a bullet to the head always did the job, no?
You hated him more than ever. After that night you had gotten drunk two weeks before, you had woken up to find he had left a love bite on your throat. You had been seething, and had actually tried throwing things at him, which had resulted in you being tied to the bed for a full three hours, forced to listen to him monologue about everything and anything just to get a kick out of you. He asked you questions, of course. What your favourite films were, what your favourite flowers and books and artists were, and even if you did not answer, he answered for you, because he was a disgusting stalker who knew the answers already. Then, he gave his review on each of the answers, psychoanalysing you based on the things you liked.
And of course, he had not stopped kissing you. It had been wishful thinking, truly, but you’d hoped he wouldn’t press you. But no, he was even more hands-on. Like an octopus, he seemed to attach himself wherever you went. His hands may not have been sticky, but they sure felt like it. He would wrap them around your waist from behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck and keeping you still as he had his fix of kissing your neck and sucking disgusting hickies on it like he was a fifteen-year-old who had just discovered snogging.
And it should have been gross, and distasteful, and it should have made you feel dirty. And it did, but not in the right way. No, it made you feel dirty because every time he kissed your neck and told you all the things he just couldn’t wait to do to you and how good you would feel if you just let him have you, your lower stomach would feel tight and hot, and you’d find yourself aroused. And it felt so revolting to be betrayed so severely by your body.
There were few times where you had the presence of mind to thrash around and flail your limbs to hit him or get him to let you go, but by the point you put a tight leash around your mind, he had already gotten what he wanted. By the time he had kissed you and pulled you on his lap, you had already shown it took you several seconds before you bit down on his tongue or his lips. And if you did draw blood, he would smile at you, his eyes growing darker and full of lust, revealing a sadistic part of him that made you feel like it actually turned him on, and that he could barely restrain himself from retaliating in kind. His fingers would curl around your hips like a vice, and he would let out a soft groan, looking at you like you were prey.
So you had stopped biting, because you were terrified of what would happen if Chrollo Lucilfer lost control.
You hated how he played house with you. How he liked to cook for you, telling you about all the things he liked about you, forcing you to cuddle with him and acting like this was all normal. Your anger, your venomous words, your violence, none of it affected him at all. You were at least glad he never hurt you physically, but no, Chrollo was much more subtle and devious than that. No, Chrollo liked mind games. He liked bringing up the fact that he was so so saddened by the fact that your behaviour prevented him from taking you outside, from letting you see and experience the outside world. He was not expecting you to escape at all. But you would. Oh, you would that very day.
As you stood next to him in front of the door that had been the lock of your gilded cage, you felt... excited. Fearful, ridden with nerve-wracking anxiety, dreading what could go wrong, but also excited. Because you would do it. You had to believe that.
‘Now, you know the rules, darling’ he said softly, and you saw his red book appear in his hand. The lock clicked, and he picked up the suitcase, placing his hand on the small of your back and leading you outside. You walked with him to the lift, pretending to be a well-behaved dog that would follow him everywhere and never stray far away from him. You obediently got in the passenger seat, and Chrollo put on some music, seemingly in a good mood. You lowered the window to get several mouthfuls of clean air after a month of strict captivity in the house and did your best to ignore him. You didn’t even try to ask him where he was planning to take you next, and you did not want to know what job he would be involved in next.
Chrollo, on his part, did not seem particularly bothered by the fact that you were not talking, and the drive was fairly quiet. Your stomach was churning, a lump of anxiety burrowing itself in your throat, almost suffocating you. Your heart hammered like a Metallica concert in your ribcage, and you were worried he might actually hear it, because to you, it was as loud as the crack of thunder. Nevertheless, you tried to act natural and composed, fearing he would see your nervousness and be on his guard. He would notice if you were suddenly nicer to him in the hopes of relaxing him, so instead, you tried to act as dismissive and bitter as you always did.
He parked the car in the parking space of the airport, and like the pretend gentleman he liked to masquerade as, he opened the door for you and offered you his hand, which you promptly ignored. Not deterred in the slightest, he got your suitcase and walked with you towards the entrance. You swallowed, your legs weak as you glanced at him and then at the people walking around the main room. You quickly pinpointed three guards in one corner by the ticket stall and another two near the exit that led to the docking area. He grabbed two tickets from his pocket and gave you a slight smile. You shifted on your feet.
‘I need to go to the bathroom before we leave’ you said, pointing at the toilets on the other side of the room. He lifted an eyebrow.
‘You can wait until we get on the blimp’ he said. You shook your head.
‘I have to go now’ you retorted, staring him down. His dove grey eyes bored into you for a few seconds, and then he nodded. You gulped, cold sweat running down your spine as you rigidly made your way to the toilets. You could feel his eyes on the back of your head. You locked eyes with one of the guards, and brought one hand in front of your stomach, so he wouldn’t see it, quickly but deliberately showing the guard your thumb bending towards the palm of your hand and the other fingers closing over it, in a signal for help. The guard’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, and after a second, she nodded. You ran towards her and her two colleagues all of a sudden, standing behind them.
‘Shoot him! Now! He’s really dangerous’ you said, your voice cracking as Chrollo turned to look at you, his hand sliding from the handle of the suitcase, his expression growing cold.
‘Ma’am, what is the situati-‘ the female guard started to say, but before she could finish the sentence, she stopped talking with a weird grunting sound. You slowly looked over to her, confused, and your horrified eyes set on a pen sticking out of her forehead, and a trickle of blood pouring on her brow. Your voice caught in your throat, and you watched, paralysed, as the guard slumped on the ground and hit the tiles with a thud. The other guards drew their guns, and the ones behind Chrollo also came rushing over, but before you could even plead with him, they were all dead.
You shivered wildly as you saw him walk towards you with graceful, unhurried steps, though his expression was stony.
People started screaming and running, but Chrollo took out his magic book, and in a few seconds, all of them were on the floor, unmoving. Your eyes widened in horror and despair, and you quickly crouched and grabbed one of the guns on the floor, pointing it at him. He stopped walking and tilted his head.
‘I would not have had a reason to do this if you hadn’t tried to leave me, sweetheart. What’s with that look? I told you your actions have consequences. Put the gun down’ he said, his voice unwavering, calm, authoritative. You didn’t.
‘You’re a sick fuck- a sick fuck’ you said in a croaky voice, your teeth gnashing and grinding against each other to the point your jaw ached. He did not stop approaching, and did not seem particularly bothered that you were pointing a gun at his face.
With your heart and your brain filled with naive, delusional hope, you pulled the trigger.
You did not see him dodge, but the next moment, there wasn’t a hole in his face, and his head was tilted slightly, which meant that monster was fast enough to dodge bullets. You let out a choked sound of despair, your grip unsteady, your eyes brimming with tears, your breath shallow and uneven, your heart thundering in your throat. Your heart and the blood in your veins turned to ice as you realised what the only way out of this was. It was all your fault. Those people he had killed... it was all because of you. You slowly placed the gun against your temple, the cold metal of the barrel burning your skin as you stared at Chrollo. As you placed the gun to your temple, Chrollo's expression turned from calm and confident to concerned and deranged very quickly. His aura exploded around him like a cataclysm that paralysed you.
'No! No, you don’t!' he growled, his voice low but desperate.
In a single movement, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled the gun out of your hand and away from your head. In his eyes, you saw his fear of losing you, his worry about your safety, and his reluctance to hurt you. All your hope of freedom disappeared as Chrollo threw the gun far, far away from you. Your fingers shook as your arms fell limply at your side. Primal fear of death took hold of you, and coldness seeped in the marrow of your bones.
‘Shh, shh, shh’ he murmured, dipping his head and placing a finger on your lips, instantly collected and composed again.
‘You are a very troublesome girl. My heart aches, darling. Have I not been kind towards you? I have given you everything. I give you love, affection, gifts, a nice house, nice food, expensive wine, flowers, books, films. I would take you outside, if you knew how to behave yourself. But you are one greedy girl, no? All you want is to be by yourself, all alone. Isn’t that sad? I’m not very happy now, and neither are you. See? This is a distressing situation for the both of us. Did you not think this through? Did you forget the rules I told you? That I would be forced to utilise violent methods to deal with those who would seek to take you from me? You are mine, darling. Remember that for me, yes? You do not leave me’ he said, staring at you, his face inches away from you. He wiped the tears from your cheeks, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. You trembled, frozen, rooted to the spot.
‘You can either come with me now, or I can knock you out and carry you on the blimp. Either way, you are going to be on that airship in five minutes’ he said, his voice calm and mellow. Your chest heaved, and your eyes trailed to all the corpses around you. There must have been at least fifteen. You felt the sudden urge to throw up. Your fault. It was all your fault. All these people, they were dead because of you. Why were you worth more than any of them? Why weren’t you the only corpse strewn on the white tiles? If only you’d been smarter, if only you had devised a better plan... but no, you realised all was useless in front of a monster such as he was. A monster that could kill with a pen. A monster that could dodge bullets. A monster that stood unflinching in the face of mass murder. What were you hoping would happen? You were only a normal girl. He was the stuff of nightmares.
You let him drag you towards the docking area. He took out his phone and started calling someone.
‘Shal, I need you to hack into the security cameras of Starling’s airport. Then, tell Shizuku to drive here to clean up. I ran into a little mishap’ he said, and then nodded and ended the call, grabbing the suitcase and dragging you along onto the blimp. Apparently, he had reserved all of it, so the pilot was none the wiser about the bloodbath that had ensued in the airport. He sat you down in one of the luxurious rooms, on a sofa, and poured you a glass of wine, and then one for himself.
‘Would you like to say something?’ he asked, twirling his chalice in his hand. You jerked your head “no”, your eyes fixed on the glass of the coffee table, your mind replaying the images of the corpses in the airport as the blimp took flight.
‘I hope this won’t be repeated. Otherwise, you understand I will be unable to trust you outside’ he said calmly. You gritted your teeth, your trembling hands balled up into fists as your shoulders hunched.
‘Curious how your face was not on the missing people board at the airport, don’t you think? None of the guards even stopped you. How curious. I wonder if your family submitted a missing person file to the authorities’ he mused after a few minutes, opening his bag and getting a copy of “Crime and Punishment” out, taking out a bookmark and starting to read, lounging in an armchair, his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. You did not fall for the obvious bait, but you could not stop the horrible thoughts that clouded your mind. Had your family filed a report? Had Chrollo killed them? Threatened them?
You got up from the sofa, walking numbly towards the cabin and closing the door behind you, lying down on the bed and staring at the patterns in the wall paint.
Chrollo sighed, bitterly taking a swig of red wine, his grey eyes trailing to the closed door of the cabin where you had gone to half an hour earlier. He turned a page, feeling distracted and slightly hurt.
It was illogical, obviously, considering he had always expected you would try at least once to leave him. It was just human nature to seek freedom. But was freedom not overrated in your case after all? He had lifted you up from a life of boring routines, awful working conditions, inane friends and a family that did not care for you as well as he could. He was giving you the chance to travel, the chance for adventure; he was giving you affection, protection, respect, sharing all his possessions with you, treating you to the finest food, the best clothes and jewellery, he stole ancient tomes, invaluable artefacts, pretty necklaces and earrings, even paintings for you. He knew you at least found him physically attractive. He knew he was good-looking, and whenever he kissed you, you always struggled to be stubborn and reject him, because your body and your mind were not in agreement. He knew he was not a good person, but did you truly see him as such an abhorrent, unlovable monster? Was he such a disgusting individual in your eyes?
Chrollo traced the rim of his wine glass, his eyes clouded with disappointment and a slight twinge of sorrow. The truth was that he was lonely. His heart had been empty for so very long, and the moment he had met you, the world had burst into vivid colours. Emotions had sprang in his chest, joy and contentment warmed him whenever he held you. He felt alive for the first time in more than a decade and a half. Was it so wrong for someone like him to seek companionship and acceptance? Was his darkness truly so overwhelming that you would never see all of him and find him anything but repulsive?
Chrollo was not one to deny his own nature. He was prideful, arrogant, egotistical, manipulative and possessive. But with you, he also felt a twinge of kindness, respect, admiration, something he had never had with any of the many women he had spent time with in his life. He was filled with personality traits you might find unsavoury in a person, but he was also intelligent, loyal, protective, dependable, open-minded, and frankly, he thought himself to be a very interesting person. Surely, there were positive things about him you might like, if you actually considered giving him a chance. Contrary to popular beliefs, he was not devoid of human emotions. He felt just like everyone else, though his feelings were kept on a tight leash out of the belief that they could be used against him. “There is no greater curse than loneliness”, he thought to himself, taking another swig of wine and turning a page. His life had been anything but easy, but there had been times, especially when everything seemed at the point of collapse, when he had wished he had someone by his side, someone he could share his inner demons, someone who would not judge and condemn. Someone who understood him, both the darkness and the light. But those people did not exist, and Chrollo did not want to share his pain with anyone. He did not want to see the pity in anyone's eyes.
One way or another, you would stay with him for life. But Chrollo didn’t want you to be unhappy either. At some point, he thought, you had to give in. At some point, you would be too tired and lonely to keep rejecting him. But it had been a month, and you were still as proud, headstrong and stubborn as you had been on the first day. Even if he hadn’t abducted you, upon finding out what his job was, you would have been repulsed, because you seemed to have the morals of a saint. He simply did not understand, though he had to admit he found himself charmed by your naiveté and innocence at times. You were like a flower blooming in the harsh snow, or through the cracks of cement, untainted by the cruel world.
He was a villain, but he was no monster or savage. He had only killed those people because he couldn’t afford to leave witnesses to your stunt at the airport. He was no rapist, he had never forced himself on you, even when his desires had boiled and set his body aflame with lust at the sight and feel of you. He had never hit you, not once. You were too precious for him to hurt. And yet, all he got from you was bitterness, fear and coldness. He believed you would come to love him someday, but he was lonely and filled with yearning. Your presence, your body, the taste of your lips, it wasn’t enough for him. He wanted your heart, your mind and your soul too. He wanted to be the only one you held dear in the world. He wanted you to feel safe with him, to love him, to understand him, accept him and foster a meaningful connection with him. Was he destined to spend the rest of his life without those things, with the meaningless farce of a relationship?
The harsh truth was that he had felt a pang of hurt and panic when he had witnessed your attempt at leaving him, your attempt at killing yourself, naive as it had been. He had been scared of losing you.
'A human heart is a fragile thing,' he mused. He put the book down and took another sip of wine, leaning back in his armchair, a sad, almost tired look on his face. You were like a puzzle, the piece that he wanted so badly to connect with the others, to finally form an image that made sense. He wanted you to be happy, to be satisfied, but he also wanted you to be his and only his, for him to own your mind and your heart. It was a difficult conundrum; but Chrollo was determined to make you fall.
He sighed, and his gaze hardened at his own wavering thoughts. If his beliefs vacillated, he would never succeed. You would come to accept him and cherish him, one day. And most importantly, the lesson he had imparted that day would make you think twice about trying to leave him again.
He closed his eyes, his mind drifting to a dream of a hopeful future. A cold night of Autumn, in a home warmed by the blazing, crackling flames in the fireplace, your body underneath him on a comfortable sofa, your skin glowing, the light dancing on your curves as he grazed his fingers over your body, tracing, gripping, kneading, caressing, your laboured breaths mingling, your lips swollen with his kisses, your eyebrows furrowed in bliss, your hair strewn around your face, your legs around his hips, his mouth against your throat, your soft sighs and moans filling the room. He imagined your arms around his torso, fingers curling on the skin of his shoulder blades, your back arching into him, your nails digging in his back as he gave you pleasure. He imagined lying down with you, spent and satisfied, stroking your hair, kissing your forehead, whispering words of devotion to you as you caught your breath and smiled at him. He imagined running you a bath, wrapping you in a blanket, making you a warm drink and sitting with you outside to watch the stars in the peaceful forest he would have bought a home in. What a perfect life, he thought longingly. A small sliver of peace in a world that had robbed him of every piece of happiness and serenity. He liked the life of freedom, adventure and danger he had with the Troupe, but in his heart, there was something Chrollo had never been able to steal: peace. What he wanted with you, what he truly wanted, was someone to come back to, someone to feel alive with, someone to protect, cherish and trust, someone who loved him, a home.
He downed his glass of wine.
His phone buzzed, and he picked it up, reading the text from Shalnark. “Cameras erased. Shizuku cleaned everything up”, it read. He wrote a quick reply and picked up his laptop, connecting it to the wi-fi and absentmindedly googling a website listing houses for sale. Perhaps, you would feel safer in one place. Perhaps, he could give you a place to call home, and a place for him to call home too. Of course, asking for your input would be like poking a rattlesnake at the moment, when you were so upset over what had happened at the airport, but he could still save some possible options. Perhaps it was a good move. Besides, he remembered your routine before you started living with him consisted of long walks in the park every weekend, so he knew for a fact you enjoyed nature. Some would think Chrollo enjoyed the city life, but the truth was that he liked peace and solitude. It would do you good to get some fresh air without him having to deal with a possible escape attempt on your part. It would be perfect to have a nice house somewhere that was quite isolated, but still not too far from civilisation, both to keep you from going to other people for “help” and for him to live in relative secrecy, away from prying eyes. He started looking for houses in natural reserves, in a place that was neither cold nor hot.
The blimp landed four hours later, and Chrollo sighed, closing his laptop and putting it back in his bag, getting up and walking to the cabin. He gently knocked on the door. No answer.
‘Dearest’ he said against the wooden door, listening in for any noise. Nothing.
‘Dearest. Would you come out, please?’ he repeated, his voice calm and purposely soothing. Once again, there was no answer. He let out a deep exhale, turning the doorknob and walking in. His face smoothed and softened as his eyes set on your sleeping form curled up on the duvet. He silently walked closer, observing the damp patch under your face, a clear sign you had cried yourself to sleep. He brushed your hair out of your face with reverence, observing the face of the woman that had thawed his heart. You looked so fragile when you slept. It made him want to protect you and hold you close. He squeezed your delicate hand slightly.
‘Darling, wake up’ he said, his voice soft but slightly louder, and you stirred, gasping, your eyes snapping open, and you scrambled away from him. He observed you quietly.
‘We have landed’ he said simply, his gaze darkening ever so slightly at your reaction, but he did not let it deter him from treating you with the utmost tenderness. Even idiots knew vulnerable times were the best moments to manipulate someone into depending on them.
‘You do not have to fear me, sweetheart. I would never hurt you, you are my precious girl’ he said with a slight smile. You grimaced, and he could practically taste your next words in the tension building in the air.
‘So I’m precious, but everyone else is trash and it doesn’t matter if they die? They’re disposable? They’re unworthy? They mean nothing? But me, I’m oh so fucking special?!’ you said in a disgusted, angry voice. Chrollo straightened up, leaning towards you and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
What an obvious question, he thought.
‘Exactly. You are my woman. You are the most important thing in the world, and your life is worth millions of theirs’ Chrollo remained calm, despite the anger that blazed in your eyes.
'Is that so difficult to believe?', he continued candidly, 'when you think about it, that's exactly what every human being thinks, myself included'
He straightened up, his face serious again, his voice still soft.
'Yes, my love, that's exactly what I think. You are the most wonderful person I have ever met, you deserve the world, and everyone else means nothing at all to me. This is how the world works. A parent will let millions die if it means they can save the life of their child. People prioritise that which is dear to them’ he said simply. At the candid, casual tone of his voice, your arms flopped at your side and your jaw slackened in defeat and resignation.
‘That doesn’t mean they had to die’ you murmured, your eyes searching for something, anything in his dove grey eyes. Something that would make him human in your eyes. But what he said... perhaps that was the most human thing of all. To be selfish, to care only about one’s own, to look only after one’s own. And yet, you didn’t even think what Chrollo had with you could ever be considered “caring”.
He took a step towards you, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible, and he sat down on the side of the bed, leaning forward.
'Look at me, darling'
Your eyes slowly followed his finger and met his gaze. Chrollo remained very still, not daring to move so as not to break the balance of the moment, and he spoke softly.
'Do you care, love? Do you care if anyone else but you dies?' he asked almost curiously, with clinical fascination. You stared at him, your lips parting in disbelief at his question.
‘Of course I do’
Chrollo raised an eyebrow, his expression intrigued as he looked at you.
'Do you?' he asked, and you stayed silent and Chrollo continued to study you, his voice still soft, ‘Do any of the people who died today mean anything to you, my love?’
Chrollo's fingers slid across the duvet over your knee and he touched your skin gently, the movement of his fingers soothing and gentle, and yet to you, it was like being burnt.
‘This is just how humans work. You only care about those who are important to you. It is how you protect yourself’ he said simply. You stared at him, shaking your head stiffly.
'Do not liken me to you. I care because they are human. I care because you took human lives. Innocent lives. Just... just to stop me from escaping. You killed- so many people... do you not think of all the potential you robbed them of? Every single one of them had a life as nuanced and complicated as you or I do. And yet... you do not care, because they are not close to you? You have no humanity' you said, torn between disbelief, guilt and rage. Chrollo was selfish, you knew, but somehow, you had hoped in the depths of his darkness, there had to be some humanity, some... compassion. But you were once again mistaken.
‘I don't care. Their lives meant nothing to me’ he paused, but kept his fingers gently stroking your skin, 'I know you do not approve, but I stand by what I did. They were in my way. And I did not want you to leave me. Can you blame me for wanting you to be mine forever and not wanting another soul to touch you? I had to kill them, to stop you from leaving me. Simply put, my lovely, you signed their demise. You were aware that by trying to escape, you were putting innocent lives in danger, but you put yourself and your happiness first. Shh, it’s okay. I could never judge you for it, it’s as it should be, my darling. But you cannot play preacher with me, and speak of morality, when you also thought of your own needs above people’s lives' he said with a small smile. You froze, a cold, bitter nausea gripping your body, paralysing you, making you its prisoner in the truth he spoke. Because you had known Chrollo was powerful, strong and dangerous. You had heard him say he would kill people to ensure you did not leave him. But you had chosen to naively ignore that fact, blinded by the delusion that everything would work out in a world where nothing ever did.
‘I never wanted- I never wanted...’ you stammered, clutching your lurching stomach.
‘You didn’t want it to happen, but you overlooked it' he whispered, keeping his voice gentle and soothing. He looked at you, his eyes taking in every inch of your face, of your skin. His fingers continued to stroke your knee, his touch soothing and tender.
'I know, darling, I know. Your mind and your heart are telling you different things. I am like a poison to you, and yet you cannot resist' Chrollo tilted his head, his eyes still on your face, 'I know your struggle is a difficult one, but I will help you overcome it. You can abandon your morality, the shackles of society, the good and proper, and you can have freedom from those useless rules that society has imposed on you. It is only human nature. Break free. Life is so much easier when you do not care for those that are not your own, sweetheart' the last words were laced with some kind of heaviness as he uttered them, as if they carried a much larger meaning than what he was willing to divulge, but you were too concerned with the breaking of your own mind, the shattering of your own heart over the guilt and repulsion you felt for yourself, the dread you felt at knowing he was right, in a way. You had chosen yourself even at the expense of many innocent lives. You were selfish, heartless and a monster.
'You are my own, my love. You're the only one worth anything in this world, and I would destroy a thousand worlds just to keep you by my side. Is that not the ultimate expression of love?' Chrollo's lips curved up in a slight smile, as if he had just imparted a sacred lesson to you, as if the words he had spoken were the wisest in the world. He had some kind of dreamy look in his big dove grey eyes, as if he truly saw himself as the romantic lead in a film. It made your stomach churn.
‘You think murder is the ultimate expression of romanticism? Have you any idea how fucked up that is? That you should be obsessed with somebody, and willing to trample on the whole world and all its worth just to get what you want? Even at the expense of the happiness of the one you are so obsessed with?’ you asked, your voice straining, struggling to pass through the heavy lump constricting your throat.
‘It is not only romanticism' he replied with a slight frown on his face, 'it is reality. People murder, steal and ruin each other's lives over and over again, all over the world, every day. This is the way of the world. I know you find it difficult to accept, my love. The truth is that most people are selfish and cruel, and if you want to live a happy life, you have to be as well’ he said simply, as if it were a dogmatic truth imparted from the heavens.
‘And so, instead of attempting to better the world, you simply decided to be the worst of them all? Why add cruelty onto cruelty? Why make the world worse?’ you continued, spreading your arms as if to illustrate your point. Chrollo sighed deeply.
'Because the cruelty of the human race cannot be changed, my love. It is part of our nature, and attempting to deny our own nature is futile. But that should be a good thing. It is who we are, and we should not want to be any other way. And those who accept their human nature, darling, those are the ones who shall be free and happy’ he said with his placid, enigmatic smile.
‘I will take everything from this world, and create freedom and happiness for those I call my own. The rest of the world could burn, and I would not care' he said simply. You stared at him, shaking your head slightly. Arguing with Chrollo on morality was utterly useless. You'd probably have more luck convincing a lion to stop eating zebras. You picked up your bag and exited the cabin, wanting nothing more than to get off that blimp and get to whatever flat Chrollo had decided you would live in next and try to forget the massacre you had caused. Forget the blood and the corpses and the smell of iron in the air.
#yandere chrollo#hxh chrollo#chrollo#chrollo lucilfer#chrollo smut#chrollo x reader#yandere chrollo lucilfer#chrollo hunter x hunter#hunter x hunter#phantom troupe#hxh x reader#yandere x reader#chrollo x you#chrollo x y/n#yandere chrollo x you#yandere chrollo x reader
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Rewatching Treasure Planet (great movie, watch it) made realize something about the way that stories convey information to their audiences. There's been a lot of discussion on the overuse of plot twists and how many stories prioritise surprising their audience over telling decent stories. However, if you instead reveal the "twist" to the audience before it becomes known to the characters, you can build tension and stakes.
Treasure Planet comes right out and tells you that Long John Silver is the main villain almost immediately after his introduction (And even before he's introduced we're warned about a cyborg, so you'd have to be pretty dense to not put 2 and 2 together and realize he's a bad guy). So when the audience watches him and Jim bond and grow closer, it builds tension for when Jim finds out and it highlights the tragedy of their friendship, because we all know it's not going to end well. Then, after the truth is revealed, stakes are created because we want the friendship between Jim and Silver to be repaired, because we know it was real, but we don't know if can be after what Silver's done. And all of this would have been lost if Silver's true nature had been a cheap plot twist. The tragedy would be completely overshadowed by the surprise and betrayal, and any investment in their relationship would have been built on the false impression that Silver was a good guy.
Another good example of this is Titanic. Even if you were somehow ignorant of the ship's sinking, the film makes sure you know that it sank with its framing device of Old Rose telling her story to people salvaging the Titanic's wreak. And Titanic's plot structure could only possibly work if you know the ship is going to sink. I'm not just talking about building tension, tragedy, and stakes for the characters like with the above example, I mean that if you didn't know that the Titanic was going down walking into the film, the abrupt shift from romance to suspense-disaster would be an increadibly tough pill to swallow. But it works because we expect it. You don't walk into a film called Titanic without expecting the damn boat to sink.
However, the sad thing about both of these examples, is that despite all the benefits that came from telling the audience these things ahead of time, I think the main reason the creators didn't make them plot twists was because they couldn't have. Treasure Island is the single most influential piece of pirate media out there, and you'd have to have been living under a rock for over a century to not know the Titanic sank. So, the writers had to work around the fact that these important turning points in the narratives were common knowledge, and they wound creating incredible stories as a consequence.
I want to see more of this style of writing in stories where the writers aren't forced to do it. We've clearly seen that you can tell some really damn good stories by giving information to the audience before the characters learn it, and I just wish more works would do that instead of trying to surprise people with shocking twists.
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DFF ep. 10: Phee as an unreliable narrator
I find Phee's narrated reveal to Jin so odd. That device hasn't been used in the series thus far, even during Tan's reveal as New. DFF has always been "show" not "tell", which is why I will be disappointed if this doesn't turn out to be a case of unreliable narration.
There are two chunks of flashbacks as Phee tells all to Jin: 1) rapid cut scenes from previous episodes, not narrated, and 2) new scenes from New's POV, which are narrated by Phee. In the second set of scenes, New sets up traps for Por and drugs Top, which align with scenes from episodes 1-4, but as such, they didn't need to be explicitly narrated for the audience to understand that they happened. (Again, why it would be so disappointing if this is played straight.)
Phee quickly glosses over the extent of his participation, in that he says
but does it seem right that Phee would find this to be a feasible plan? If the group admits what they did to Non, what could they do with that information? Even if Phee might think he could give drugged confession over to his dad, does he really believe that New, who at this point has lost everything in his life and whom Phee has seen spiral into hopelessness, can simply end this ordeal at that?
I think it's possible he is misrepresenting parts of the truth in order to further some shared goal with New or his own agenda, perhaps with a third party.
In terms of evidence for this being part of New+Phee's shared plan, New doesn't seem all that surprised at being outed to the group, not that the group really gives a fuck. As Tee so eloquently states,
This reveal of an unknown brother to the already deranged group means nothing. But, Phee gains something by revealing "useless" information to Jin - he learns that Jin was the one who filmed the video of Non and Keng
(Now the way this was filmed was also weird, but I can't think of a reason why Jin would lie, so let's assume he is telling, to his knowledge, the truth.)
This is (maybe) the first piece of information Phee (and New) have learned concerning the actions the group have taken to cause Non's disappearance, or at least breakdown. Phee could have realized that the drugs were too aggresive and the group would kill each other off before they got anything on Non, and chose to get information instead.
In this case, what Phee misrepresents would be the extent of his involvement, that in truth he is more of an active participant than he lets on, all to get Jin to trust him more. Notice how none of the flashbacks include scenes of Phee approaching Jin to get close to him.
However, if the reveal is a tactic, it could also be to further Phee's own goals, potentially with a third party. In this case, Phee would be entirely misrepresenting who is doing the acts of violence, maybe not New at all. Possible evidence toward this is that while New is deeply unhinged right now, he doesn't seem quite bloodthirsty enough to take a life (in killing Uncle Dang). He certainly acted surprised enough at his body.
Fluke interrupts Jin before there can be a reveal of Phee as Non's ex boyfriend or of the presumed actions that New took to ruin the group, which leads me to believe that none of what we have seen so far has been the whole truth. The narrative makes more sense as a set up to a twist coming in ep. 11 and 12.
All I'm saying is, don't ready the stones for Phee just yet.
(The way that I would least like for events to play out is if this episode is completely played straight - Phee will kill a mad New in an act framed as righteous, perhaps by protecting Jin, and an alive Non will return home to find his parents dead and his (ex)boyfriend having betrayed him and killed his brother. Woo!)
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MOVIE NIGHT
♡ — Reader: GN
♡ — Characters: Heizou, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Xiao, Venti
♡ — Synopsis: immersing yourselves in the wonderful world of films.
♡ — Content: modern!au, fluff, crack, established relationship in Venti’s, mutual pining in Kazuha’s, friends to lovers in Kazuha's and Heizou’s, Scara being a little mean and grumpy, reader is roommates with Scaramouche, Xiao is oblivious, but he's got the spirit
♡ — A/N: welcome to another episode of Rei can’t write the same amount for each character. No, I’m definitely not biased lmao I’m so sorry, Venti enjoyers </3 I hope you enjoy the fic though! Likes and reblogs are appreciated 💕
Heizou
Shikanoin Heizou is a splendid friend, but he’s also the last person anyone wants to watch movies with. For one, he always chooses films of the same genre: mystery, and in addition to this, he’s too smart for his own good. You’re certain your friend must possess some sort of sixth sense because he never fails to predict the most ludicrous of twists. On one hand, you’re impressed by his superhuman abilities, but on the other hand, you can’t get through a single film without Heizou spoiling the ending for you.
This leads to you making a bet with Heizou. If he can watch one movie with you without giving away anything about the critical plot points, you will do one favour for him — anything he wants (within reason, of course). When you propose the idea, you’re surprised by how quickly Heizou agrees. It seems that he’s confident in his ability to keep his mouth shut.
The two of you choose to watch a detective movie. For the first half of the film, he’s able to hold himself together impressively well. He simply sits still and stares at the screen with interest lacing his gaze. Heizou doesn’t speak, doesn’t express surprise or grief when the first victim of the fictional murderer is found dead, and doesn’t chime in when the detective is investigating leads. However, one particular scene shatters his resolve.
The detective has caught the killer in the act, but their figure is hidden beneath a thick cloak. Their identity is obscured, and they do not speak a word. As the detective starts ranting about how they have connected the dots and figured out the identity of the murderer, Heizou starts shifting uncomfortably next to you. You look over to him and see that he is struggling to stay quiet. Finally, he gives in to temptation.
"What kind of detective are you? That’s — " before Heizou can speak another word, the figure pulls down their hood to reveal that the detective's conclusions are completely off the mark. Your jaw drops. Heizou regains his composure and breathes out a sigh of relief. Thanks to the film’s impeccable timing, he hasn’t lost yet. He manages to make it through the rest of the runtime without spoiling anything — not that there’s much left to spoil. Once the credits roll, Heizou brings up the favour you promised him.
"What do you want?" you ask, breathing out a sigh of defeat.
"A kiss," your mischievous friend smirks at you. His eyes glitter as he speaks. You stare at him, absolutely flabbergasted.
"Where is this coming from?" you inquire, narrowing your eyes at Heizou.
"For someone who’s been forced to watch so many detective movies, you sure are bad at deciphering clues. I love you — as more than a friend. I thought I was making it fairly obvious, but it seems you’re just as clueless as the characters that were onscreen mere minutes ago."
Kazuha
As your childhood friend, Kazuha has spent countless nights sleeping over at your house and watching cheesy films with you — emphasis on cheesy. Even though the two of you are now in college, your tradition of having movie nights every week has never ceased. However, your feelings toward the boy have changed dramatically.
There was a time back when you were in elementary school where Kazuha was nothing more than your best friend. The two of you would cuddle on his couch while viewing Disney movies. At the time, you thought nothing of the close proximity, too focused on the film to read too much into Kazuha’s actions. You didn’t notice the way he would stare at you instead of the screen. You didn’t notice the way he would gently pull you closer whenever you seemed scared. And you didn’t notice the way he would sigh wistfully whenever you watched romance movies that you found abhorrently cringey.
However, now that you’re an adult, you are able to catch on to Kazuha’s subtle affections, prompting you to consider the prospect of the boy having a crush on you. Your theory causes you to come to the startling conclusion that you reciprocate his sentiments. In an official capacity, you’re still best friends, but deep down, you know that there’s more to it. He likes you, but you’re too scared to confront him about his feelings, too afraid of taking one wrong step and decimating your precious friendship.
It doesn't help that Kazuha is only becoming more and more bold with his advances. Case in point: today’s weekly film viewing. As always, Kazuha has his arm wrapped around you, cuddling with you for comfort. He’s so close that you can feel his breath tickling the side of your face, so you try your best to direct all your attention toward the movie to prevent your visage from turning a vibrant cherry red.
Kazuha has chosen to watch something romantic this week. In hindsight, letting him pick the film was a mistake. As a result of your poor decisions, you are now seated on a couch in a television-lit room beside your best friend-turned-crush. Sappy dialogue plays in the background as Kazuha gently plays with your hair. You risk a glance at the boy, and you are rendered breathless.
His white hair catches the weak light of the screen in a way that makes it seem as though it is made from strands of moonlight. The gentle smile on his face makes your heart flutter. Most beautiful of all, however, are his vibrant red eyes. Piercing crimson meets your gaze as Kazuha notices you staring at him.
"The pickup lines in this movie are a little generic, don’t you think?" Kazuha asks you. You breathe out a sigh of relief when he doesn’t bring up the fact that you were very obviously admiring his appearance just a few seconds ago.
"I guess you’re right," you reply. "Does my favourite poetry nerd think he can do better?" you tease your friend.
Kazuha seems lost in thought for a second before responding. "I like to think that I would be more genuine with the one I love. Instead of repeating the words of lovers before me, I would like to offer the person dearest to my heart words of affirmations specific to them." His answer makes you melt on the spot. Kazuha is such a sweet and thoughtful person.
"Is there anyone you’re thinking about in particular?" you innocently inquire.
Kazuha chuckles lightly. The sound of his laughter is swoon-worthy. "There is. I could write pages upon pages of poetry about them — in fact, I already have. Perhaps we’ll be able to read them together someday."
"And who is the lucky person you’re crushing on?" you ask Kazuha. You try to make your tone light so that your question don’t make him feel as though you’re interrogating him. However, you’re almost certain that desperation oozes from the subtle cracks in your soft voice. An awkward silence hangs in the stagnant air.
"It’s you," Kazuha whispers. "It’s always been you." You feel your heart soaring out of your chest. Despite the fact that you have been somewhat aware of Kazuha’s affections for an eternity, hearing him confess his feelings still causes the blood to rush to your face. Your lips can’t help but curve into a tender smile.
Kazuha makes eye contact with you, desperately searching your gaze for any semblance of reciprocation. He seems to find what he’s looking for because a split second later, the boy relaxes completely.
As the film in the background ends, you and Kazuha come to a mutual understanding. His heart belongs to you and yours to him. The first act of your love story with Kazuha has concluded, but you are sure there is still much more to come.
Scaramouche
Scaramouche is nothing short of an interesting roommate. You’re not quite sure why, but he often goes out of his way to avoid you. To your dismay, it almost feels as though you are living alone. You’ve always wanted to get closer to the boy, but he refuses to speak to you unless necessary, and he hardly ever leaves his room. When he does decide to talk to you, his responses are either blunt or straight up snarky. He pokes fun at you in attempts to provoke you. Although you find his attitude infuriating, you also long to understand him. Scaramouche has piqued your curiosity in every way possible.
It just so happens that you find the perfect opportunity to spend time with him on a rainy summer day. Initially, you are intent on heading to the local park to meet your friend for a picnic dinner. However, after taking only a few steps outside your apartment complex, a few light drops of rain hit your head. Despite this, you continue forward, hoping that Mother Nature will take pity on you and calm the cries of the storms at hand. Your wishes are not fulfilled, as after only a few minutes, you are forced to head back as gentle rain becomes a raging thunderstorm.
When you re-enter your apartment, you notice that the place is almost completely dark. The only light inside the small space is a faint glow being emitted from the living room. Cautiously, you walk into the room. As you approach, you notice the faint sound of people conversing coming from the room. Strange. Does Scaramouche have guests over?
Your questions are answered when you step into the living room. Hushed whispers ring out over menacing music, evoking an ominous feeling within the depths of your soul. However, as you look over at the couch, you feel all the tension in your body dissipate into nothingness. Scaramouche is sitting down on the black cushions, remote in hand, and he appears to be watching something on the TV.
As you make your way toward your roommate, the floorboards creak and groan, causing him to whip his head around. His eyes widen as they land on you.
"What are you doing here?" Scaramouche asks you, furrowing his brows as he speaks. He regards you with an unreadable expression.
"I live here," you tell him. You know that he didn’t mean the question in that way, but you want to get a reaction out of him.
Scaramouche heaves out a heavy sigh. "Whatever," he mutters dismissively. He turns back to the screen.
"What are you doing?" you question Scaramouche, slowly walking over to the couch. You stand beside the piece of furniture, hesitant to sit down. Scaramouche doesn’t respond for a while. Perhaps he is hoping for you to leave. However, you continue to stay by his side, so he finally gives in and speaks.
"I’m watching a horror movie," he informs you in a dry tone. "Why? Do you want to watch with me? Somehow I doubt you would be able to handle it." Even in the dimly-lit room, you can see the wide cheshire-esque smirk spreading across Scaramouche’s face.
You roll your eyes. "I’ll be fine!" you insist, sinking down into the couch. The cautious thoughts that had been plaguing your mind just moments prior have now vanished. All that remains is a burning desire to prove Scaramouche wrong.
Despite your determination, you have to admit that your roommate is right. The film is frightening. However, as you look over at Scaramouche, you notice that he appears rather indifferent. It seems that he really isn’t scared. On the other hand, you feel yourself getting somewhat jumpy. The movie keeps catching you off-guard.
Chills run down your spine as ghosts emerge to confront the protagonist at every twist and turn they take. The backstories, motifs, and physical appearances of the entities cause you to shiver, and the gruesome nature of the characters’ demises has you shaking.
Subconsciously, you edge closer and closer to Scaramouche throughout the runtime of the movie. Around three fourths of the way through, you’re shoulder-to-shoulder. You don’t notice anything, but Scaramouche does. He doesn’t comment on it.
"How are you feeling?" Scaramouche suddenly asks out of nowhere, causing you to jump. He hits the pause button on the remote he’s clutching and waits to hear your response. The room is now completely silent. Scaramouche’s gentle breathing is audible in the stillness, and a sense of calm washes over you as you listen. You gradually regain your composure.
"I’m fine," you say. Although you try to make your voice seem confident, it comes out shaky. By the light of the television screen, you can see Scaramouche’s brows raise in a skeptical manner, and he turns off the TV.
"I don’t believe you." Scaramouche declares, his voice steady in stark contrast to yours. You pout, but you don’t try to argue with him. He’s right. The film has scared the wits out of you. "Listen, it’s obvious that you don’t want to watch more. Why don’t you just go to sleep or something?" he waves his hand dismissively.
You yawn upon hearing his words. Although it is still early, something about freaking out over a movie for a solid hour is immensely tiring. Perhaps sleeping is a good idea, but you are also afraid that the images of the ghastly figures within the film will follow you and materialize within the realm of nightmares. The mere thought makes you tremble. Gathering up all your courage, you ask Scaramouche a nearly outlandish question.
"Stay with me?" you stutter, shyly looking into his eyes. In a normal instance, you would not even consider requesting such a thing, but desperation often drives people to do crazy things.
Initially, the only response to your plea is an empty silence. You look down, wishing you could take back your words. If Scaramouche rejects you now, you will never be able to look him in the eyes again, but to your surprise, your roommate sighs and nods his head when you finally find the strength to meet his gaze.
Instead of leading Scaramouche to your room, you simply adjust your position on the couch and lay your head down on his lap. Your roommate opens his mouth to protest, but he sees the relaxed expression on your face and relents. Finally content knowing that you’re with someone who will protect you, you close your eyes and drift off into a peaceful slumber. Instead of nightmares, your dreams are filled with sweet cotton candy skies, shimmering beaches of bejeweled sands, and oceans of the deepest azure.
As you are sleeping, half-coherent thoughts form in your unconscious mind. You begin to realize that perhaps Scaramouche isn’t as bad as he appears on the outside. With him, you feel a sense of serenity like no other, despite the fact that you are not all that familiar with each other. For now, you are content with the fact that you and your roommate have taken the first step in a long process of opening up to each other.
Xiao
Xiao doesn’t watch movies often. He doesn’t have a preferred genre, doesn’t have a favourite actor, and hasn’t watched more than five classics. In other words, the man lives under a rock.
When you learn of this, you immediately take it upon yourself to introduce Xiao to a wide array of cinematic masterpieces — and some laughably terrible movies just for the fun of it. Even though the two of you only know each other through mutual friends, you feel too much pity for Xiao to not help him explore the world of films. He's been missing out on absolute gems for years.
Besides, Xiao's reactions are always priceless — his reactions and, well, his lack of reactions. As an example, whenever the two of you watch horror movies together, Xiao stares at the screen with a straight face. He even goes so far as to criticize the logic of certain scenes.
"This doesn't make any sense. How did the protagonist trip over nothing?"
The absurdity of cinema logic never fails to puzzle Xiao. His comments, although slightly too serious at times, are always amusing, and they never fail to elicit a light chuckle from you. Unbeknownst to you, Xiao’s heart feels as though it’s about to leap out of his chest whenever he hears your laughter. He doesn’t quite know when or how his feelings toward you began to fester like a storm within his feeble heart.
In any case, Xiao is undeniably starting to fall in love with you, but he never says anything because he fears rejection. His crush on you is why he never says no to your invitations to enjoy films together. Over time, your monthly movie nights turn into weekly hangouts — rather uncharacteristic for the typically anti-social Xiao, leaving you wondering why he treats you differently.
This leads into your current situation. The two of you are sitting down in your living room, watching a teen romance movie. Subtle uncertainty lingers within the air, but you don’t really feel uncomfortable. You never feel uncomfortable with Xiao. Despite his cold exterior, he’s actually an absolute sweetheart, and it shows in the way he’s reluctantly cuddling you to keep you warm right now — albeit a little shyly.
The movie the two of you are watching is rather cringey and overly dramatic. It’s almost painful to watch the protagonist pine over their love interest, refusing to confess because they’re afraid of being turned down. They talk about how incredible their crush is, the comfort that they bring, and how they would love to have them by their side forever. Despite all this, the protagonist is still afraid to declare their affections, retaining a mindset plagued by the woes of doubt and insecurity.
You begin to realize that the main character is rather relatable, but you can’t quite put your finger on why — until you glance over at the amber-eyed boy sitting next to you. The realization that the film just perfectly described your feelings toward Xiao hits you like a truck.
You love Xiao.
You’ve loved him for a very long time.
But you were just too oblivious to tell.
You are so tangled up in a web of your own emotions that you don’t notice the way Xiao stares at you. He longs for you just as much as you long for him, but the two of you are both far to oblivious and fearful to confess your feelings right now. So for the time being, all you can do is steal quick glances at each other and shyly link your pinkies together, hoping that the seeds of affection within your hearts will give you the courage to turn your friendship into a blossoming romance.
Venti
Whenever it’s Venti’s turn to pick the film you’ll be watching for movie night, you just know that he’ll choose one of two things: a Disney movie or a musical. It’s no secret that Venti loves music, so he sings his heart out to all the musical numbers. He has memorized every lyric to every song flawlessly. The duality of your boyfriend’s voice makes you think that he himself could be a movie star. Sometimes it is light and airy to portray the carefree and joyful atmosphere of a scene, reminiscent of a light breeze on a sweltering summer day. However, Venti is also able to make his tone dark and wild — like the unpredictable gale of a fearsome storm.
Despite the fact that the beguiling melodies that leave Venti’s lips are no less impressive than the songs of sirens, sometimes he becomes a little too obnoxious for your liking. There are times where he can’t stop singing, even after the characters have stopped. Although his voice is delightful, it gets irritating because you can’t hear what’s going on in the film. In these instances, the best course of action is to take matters into your own hands.
You can usually get him to shut up by playfully nudging him with your elbow. Squishing his cheeks so that he can’t sing properly also works, and as a bonus, he looks adorable. However, this time, you decide to try something new.
You turn to your boyfriend and stare at him until you catch his attention. Once he is looking back into your eyes, you lean closer to him and wait until he gives you a sign that he’s alright with what you’re about to do. Venti seems to understand and nods, lips parting slightly. He never rejects your advances. Then, you close the distance between the two of you at an excruciating pace, savoring the frustrated expression on your boyfriend’s face. By this time, he has forgotten all about the movie. He is focused on you and you alone.
At long last, you plant a passionate kiss on his lips, fulfilling all his desires. Something about the way he tastes reminds you of freshly-baked apple pie — warm and sweet. You kiss him until he is breathless and red in the face, and when the two of you finally pull apart, your boyfriend is at a loss for words.
He stays silent for the rest of the film.
#r.archives *ೃ༄#heizou x reader#kazuha x reader#scaramouche x reader#wanderer x reader#xiao x reader#venti x reader#genshin imagines#genshin impact#genshin x you#genshin x reader#genshin fluff#genshin fanfic#genshin impact x reader
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Cardinal Terzo Interlude
Papa Emeritus III x Reader | NSFW
I'm very sorry writing has been a bit of a struggle recently I hope to have some more cream pie diaries and more banchetto out soon. But for now all I have is this that I wrote for @ghostchems as an extra treat for her diary entry and because she is one of my favourite people! Hope you enjoy 💜
You feel boneless as he carries you into his room. This whole evening had been so unexpectedly special, and you were so grateful for your relationship with this ridiculous man. He was looking at you with that infuriating satisfied smirk that you loved so much, the evidence of your pleasure still visible in his smudged lipstick but messy as it was, it made him even more handsome. He places you on the bed gently, your loose limbs spreading comfortably in the soft sheets but he doesn’t join you straight away, just looks down at you as he reaches to smooth a lock of hair from your face and you take this moment of quiet to reminisce.
When he had first taken up the position of Cardinal here you had not known what to make of him. He was good looking and charming, that was undeniable but he had also seemed lazy and frivolous. It wasn’t until you found him in the administration office late one night after everyone else had left, his frustration thick in the air as he struggled to get to grips with the paperwork he needed to complete that you saw another side to him. He had asked for your help and seeing the genuine desire to learn in his face you had agreed. Running a Satanic Abbey was a lot more involved then one might think, you knew this all too well and as Cardinal he was supposed to oversee all the day to day admin as well as lead the congregation in acts of sin in the name of Satan. Admittedly the admin was a lot less fun but that is how you found yourself spending a couple of nights a week alone with the new Cardinal.
He picked it up quickly once you had shown him where to look and how to use the systems in place but still the two of you kept meeting. Instead of just teaching you ended up talking as you worked and you found him fascinating. He would regale you with stories from his travels across the world, of his childhood home in southern Italy, of his troublemaking in Rome as a young man and of the Ministry locations he had visited all over the world. You discovered your mutual love of film and often spent hours debating the nuances of your favourites. Over time he began to suggest you indulge yourselves in your now informal meetings, forgoing meetings at the office and instead meeting out in the gardens or the dining room and eventually in his personal quarters.
You are brought straight back to the present as he starts to unbutton his shirt revealing his gorgeous hairy chest to you inch by perfect inch. Once he has pulled it loose he unrolls his sleeves one at a time so he can slide it off completely before his hands drop to his belt. You think he is trying to be subtle as he grazes a hand over the prominent bulge but the hitch in his breath would give him away even if his actions didn’t. He undoes his belt but doesn’t even bother pulling it loose just moves on to the fastening of his trousers and the fly. As is typical for him he had not bothered with underwear today so as he pulls his trousers off you get to enjoy the sight of his perfect cock and toned legs. He kneels at the end of the bed, crawling up towards you and settling between your legs.
Sitting you up he pulls your dress up and over your head and helps you remove your bra quickly, your knickers had been lost long ago, you assume somewhere under the dining table earlier but any thoughts of the location of your pants are pushed from your mind as he eases you back against the pillows and starts to kiss his way down your body. You love it when he is like this, so thorough with his attentions, lavishing every part of you with kisses, licks and the occasional nip of his teeth. You feel the trail of his worship down your neck across your shoulder and down your arm, pressing his lips to all the places you are most sensitive and even finding others you never knew about. He takes your hand in his and even here, where he is already naked between your legs, when he presses a kiss to the back of your hand holding you in his intense gaze you feel your heart flutter and your cheeks flush. For a moment you are just suspended in your affection for each other but it breaks as quickly as it started and he is kissing back up your arm and turning his attention to your breasts. He trails his tongue along the underside first mapping out the curve before kissing his way to your nipple. His touches are barely there, gentle flicks of his tongue and the ghost of his lips as he teases it to hardness, even as you arch up into the feeling he keeps his distance only giving you just enough to drive you crazy wanting more before moving on to the other.
He has already made you orgasm once this evening but all the tension is creeping back into your body as he continues his teasing. You weave your fingers through his already mussed hair, knowing deep down that if he is insistent on continuing to tease no amount of guidance from you will change that but appreciating the anchor it provides all the same. He has sunk further now kissing and nuzzling at your soft stomach as his hands trail the curve of your waist and hips. You are a confident woman but you never feel as attractive as when he worships you like this, when he moans into your skin just from the feel of you. His hands settle on your hips as his hot mouth continues its journey, raking his teeth over your hip bone. You suck in a gasp as his path takes him across your mound torn between wanting to feel the bliss of his mouth again this evening or if you are ready for more.
He eases your legs open and you think he has made the decision for you but he ignores your pussy completely sliding his lips straight to your sensitive inner thighs before continuing. By the time he reaches your ankles he is sitting up between your legs which are now resting against his torso. You can feel the tip of his cock straining against the back of your thighs and you have never wanted him more than you do right now. He leans towards you encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist as he kisses you, swallowing your gasp as he finally sinks into you. You're so wet for him there is almost no resistance but as he pushes in to the hilt with such little warning you feel every single inch.
You never tire of how he fucks you, the roll if his hips so smooth and seamless there isn’t a moment where a part of you isn’t stimulated. The circular thrusts have him grinding against your clit every time he bottoms out inside you and your skin tingles everywhere else you are pressed together. His strong arms wrapped around you and his hairy chest pressed against your sensitive breasts. Your nails dig into his shoulders pulling him impossibly closer as he gradually increases the tempo and you can feel your orgasm building. On a particularly deep thrust you clench around him hard as the head of his cock directly fucks into your sweet spot and his rhythm falters for the first time as he buries his face into your shoulder to smoother his moans.
And that is the start of your undoing as you see him as affected by your body as you are by his. You both find your rhythm again as you give and take of each other. Tingles are spreading through your whole body, you can feel every thrust through your nervous system, sensitive all the way to the palms of your hands and the soles of your feet. You cling to him as you rock together pushing each other closer and closer to the precipice. The sounds coming from the two of you change, from moans and whimpers to choked off sobs and grunts as your pleasure gets more intense. The end is coming ever closer but part of you wants to pause time so you can feel this all consuming closeness forever but all good things must come to an end, it is inescapable.
He shifts, pressing your shoulders into the mattress as he pistons his hips into you, immobilising you and bringing you both to the point of no return. The angle is perfect and you can feel a silent scream building in your chest as your pleasure is pulled taught. He is fighting to keep his thrusts even as he picks up the pace, the muscles of his torso tense and twitch and you love seeing him like this. You have enough control left to scratch your fingers down his back as he is overcome by a full body shudder so you can squeeze his toned ass as he continues to fuck into you. You both curse every time he bottoms out inside you and the force almost pushing you up the bed if not for his firm grip on your shoulders and you are finally ready to reach your peak. The rolling waves of pleasure radiate out from your core as you clench around him, pulling his orgasm from him with a loud moan his hips stutter before he pushes as deep into you as he can as you both ride it out.
Only when he has filled you completely and your aftershocks have subsided does he pull out of you. He doesn’t go far though, pulling you to rest on his warm chest, his racing heart beginning to slow as he twirls a strand of your hair between his fingers. Your whole body still feels numb and you hate the thought of moving again but when he tips your face up towards his you make the effort and it is worth it to look into his soft eyes and receive his soft kisses.
‘Still the best birthday?’ He asks, as if he doesn’t know.
‘The very best,’ you whisper against his lips, conserving your energy so you can show him with kisses just how happy you are.
#the band ghost fic#the band ghost fanfiction#papa emeritus iii x reader#terzo x reader#cardinal terzo#the diary of cardinal terzo#my writing
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Ilsa and Ethan: There's Still Hope
Spoiler Warning for M:I7!
I'm sure a ton has already been said about Ilsa in the new movie, whether it be lamenting her loss or developing theories as to her potential return in the next film, but here are some contributions I've been mulling over. This isn't going to be an exhaustive list of reasons why she's still alive, but I will try to address some and add my own thoughts into the mix.
I agree with the discussion that one of the best clues of this all being a fake out lies in Ethan and Ilsa's reunion near the beginning of the film. Ilsa plays dead during the fight and Ethan momentarily believes it before she attacks him and reveals herself to be alive. As it stands, this looks like a foreshadowing to her eventual, real death, however, I think it instead acts as setup to her still being alive. I think it's clear that her death fakeout exists to give us clues to her eventual return as well as deflect audiences from even considering it as we're trained to accept that foreshadowed events that transpire in most stories would simply be the end of it, but this isn't a typical story, this is Mission: Impossible, and nothing is as it seems and this film establishes that that's more true now than ever.
And if you're really going to kill Ilsa off, why do a fake-out at all? Why not just have her die later without warning and really shock the audience? Why already have the fans ruminating on the possibility early on and telegraph it long before it actually happens? Consider Julia's "death" in M:I3. The film starts in media res and there's a strong sense of tension throughout the whole film knowing that that's going to happen. Julia is going to get kidnapped and possibly die no matter what, but it's okay to spoil this scene in advance because she doesn't die. Because why would you tell the audience that's going to happen right away unless there's going to be some kind of twist where she lives? What's the point in watching the movie if you know that Ethan is ultimately going to fail and it's going to have a tragic, unsatisfying ending? Julia's death fakeout is a tactic meant to trick him and the audience and make him feel like he's lost only for the twist to be that he ultimately wins and Julia remains alive. I believe a similar tactic is being used with Ilsa which has the potential to be a very well-executed plot twist rather than a disappointing one if done correctly and not completely abandoned in the next film. I actually think that without the fakeout and just a sudden and completely unexpected death I'd feel more worried but, as it stands, I think the choice (among many others) actually serves to legitimize this all being fake.
After all, the best twists are ones that you can see coming if you're really looking for it and that's okay. It's okay that we've figured it out - that means the director ultimately did their job right. Some viewers, especially more casual fans, are taking what they were shown at face value and not considering there's any more to it. They're falling for the trick and that's fine too, because a good twist is one that is set up in a way that leaves clues but also remains largely hidden especially as the audience isn't looking for it. A magic trick that deflects us from seeing what the magician is actually doing. When Ilsa shows up in the next film, some people will feel rewarded for their observations and others will finally see all the pieces click into place that they disregarded before and both be satisfied, but I digress...
Another huge scene to look to for clues lies in the team discussing the severity of the threat and really cementing just how difficult it's going to be to trick the Entity before the party. I think it's very possible that there are missing conversations here that we will not be privy to until the next film as Ethan would never let his friends be in such danger without having a real plan on how to protect them and the audience always knows what the plan is so when things go awry we're aware the complications were unprecedented. In this case, we really have no idea what they're walking into, nor do we see them effectively prep for it. Unless I'm forgetting something, why did Ilsa need to be at the party at all? Why would Ethan put Ilsa in danger like that for no real reason especially after already enduring those brief, agonizing moments earlier when he truly believed she was dead and had to consider a world without her in it and knowing that Gabriel has taken someone from him in the past? Ilsa is her own woman and can do what she wants, but we don't see him even trying to protest her inclusion and voicing fear for her safety for her to even refute.
The scene where Ilsa meets Ethan on the balcony afterward is incredibly short and could feel tacked on given that there's no real lead up to it, but it could very well be the aftermath of a heavy conversation where - feeling burdened by the weight of what must be done - Ethan leaves the room to think and Ilsa follows. She looks particularly chipper here despite the seriousness of what's going on and I believe her benign comments about Venice are purposefully meant to distract Ethan in an attempt to cheer him up. Notice how he shakes his head a little after he answers, like he knows what she's trying to do before giving into her and hugging back. She's calm because she has faith in the plan while he's nervous about it. As a side note, I think it was a touching detail to have Ethan return to this same balcony to grieve (publicly).
We also see Ethan and Ilsa looking at each on the boat before he takes her hand on their way to the party. This, of course, acts as yet another sweet gesture to showcase how strong their relationship is at this point but, again, Ethan doesn't seem that happy. This isn't a relaxing date (which they deserve), he looks tense as he takes her hand. Notice how he's fidgeting as he strokes her fingers and rubs his own fingers together in his free hand. It's like he's trying to hold onto her as much as he can knowing what's going to transpire and, once again, Ilsa looks like she's trying to comfort him by stroking his hand back, never taking her eyes off him. It's a nice continuation of the dynamic of their previous moment together.
And, if this is truly Ilsa's last outing? Why hold back on basically every aspect of it? If it's truly Ilsa's last fight, why not make it her biggest, baddest fight yet that showcases all of her skill but also begins to feel truly unwinnable? We've seen her face intimidating foes before, so if she's truly going to meet her match, you really need to sell to the audience that all her usual tricks aren't working and let us see on her face that she knows she's losing this fight, which would also help build a sense of dread. I've only seen the film once at this time, but I don't recall her looking too worried at any point at the party or during her fight with Gabriel. She's a brave and skilled woman of course, but she seemed incredibly unfazed by it all, almost like she knew how it was going to go. I want to add that there's no way of knowing for sure when entering into any fight that you're guaranteed to survive. Gabriel could have stabbed her anywhere and there'd be no way to anticipate that beforehand but, as I've seen pointed out, her hand is also on the knife when it plunges into her chest. The only way to know for sure where the blade would go to look deadly but still survive it would be to guide it there herself and that seems like something the skilled Ilsa would be able to pull off.
And if it's truly Ilsa's end, why not go out of your way to make it as sad as possible? What if Gabriel leaves her just alive enough for Ethan to find her and they have a heartbreaking final moment together where they perhaps exchange a line or two before he watches her die? Of course, to add insult to injury, the grieving process is pitifully brief, focusing more on Grace's reaction than Ilsa's own friends. Why not have a stronger reaction from Ethan, Benji and Luther that absolutely breaks the audience's heart? Just compare Ethan's reaction to Ilsa's death to the assumed death of Julia in MI3, the other love of his life. Yes, technically, that was a very different situation and Julia was his wife after all and Ilsa isn't, but they don't even compare. Heck, we even get to see Ethan mourn Lindsey, a friend, in M:I3 longer than Ilsa. I understand that the movie can't languish in sorrow for too long and Ethan is used to compartmentalizing to get the job done, but this is also one of the biggest losses he's suffered and right on the heels of proclaiming to his friends how he'd never let anything happen to them. This is also the longest movie in the series so far and it has no excuse for skimping on the aftermath of the death of one of its biggest and most beloved characters. Ilsa's death is sad but leaves you feeling more empty and disappointed than utterly devastated - at least for me.
We've also seen Ethan act before, as is a necessary skill for a spy, and I think the fairly subdued reaction to her death speaks to his ability to act realistically sad (he's had practice for this exact situation too as he's probably channeling all the awful things he felt when he believed her to be dead at the beginning of the movie) but also speaks to the fact that it's not actually real because if it was I think it'd be a far stronger reaction. Yes, Ethan could just be becoming desensitized to losing people after enduring it so many times but I don't think he'd hold back for Ilsa. His partner. His equal. Someone he loves deeply and offers his only chance at a life beyond this. That chance, that love, that happiness, are now gone forever and that's not something you just take in your stride.
And yes, maybe Rebecca needed or wanted out of this franchise to film other projects but that's only more reason to give her the best sendoff you possibly can and I don't think anyone, not even the director himself would be able to admit that this was worthy enough of her character and respectful to Rebecca. If even her final fight was, for whatever reason, purposefully undercut, then what else did the director choose to take away despite having so little to begin with and why? If, historically, it's not in his nature to pull something like this based on his previous work in the series and his own passionate comments regarding the character, why would he now? It's the overall lack of care in regard to her character all of a sudden that makes it all feel fishy.
And if this is it for Ethan and Ilsa, why not push the romance? Instead of just a hug on the balcony, why not feature their first kiss or, at least, a much longer conversation that cements where they really are before it all gets taken away? If the director attempted to include a kiss in the past but scrapped it because it wasn't the right time, he probably intended it to happen eventually. Why not sneak it in right before she dies if these are their last scenes together anyway? Maybe a kiss would only serve to telegraph her demise further by making the audience more nervous about her fate, but it also would have made it even sadder knowing they had finally reached that point right before she died. If the intention of all of this is truly just to make Ethan and the audience sad and it's going to hurt one way or another, you might as well push it as hard as you can to achieve the desired effect. Regardless, I believe that when she comes back in Part 2, they'll finally get that well-earned kiss and that's what the director is waiting for.
But why have Ethan lose another woman he loves at all? Why watch him go through an entire series where all he does is lose lovers only to have him ultimately end up alone especially after developing the perfect romantic partner with him and getting audiences on board with it over the course of multiple films? It all just feels unnecessarily cruel and, as it's nothing new for him, what is it really adding to the story or his character? Losing another lover is predictable at this point but bringing one back and actually letting him be happy? Now that would be a twist! What a triumphant moment it would be for Gabriel to see Ilsa return in the next movie (and perhaps have a rematch) and realize that he's the one who'd been duped? That the Entity is not infallible? That Ethan has been one step ahead of him this whole time?
I don't think I'm alone when I say that the best possible ending for the series and Ethan's story is to get to live his life with Ilsa given he wasn't able to with Julia, trusting the IMF in the hands of new operatives like Grace to carry on in their stead (notice how they focused on that other new recruit during Ethan's introduction as well like they're preparing him to pass the torch). He finally gets to go with Ilsa like she asked him in Rogue Nation and in Fallout and they both finally get out of the game and live happily in the peace that they helped ensure and so deeply deserve. Ethan has sacrificed his own happiness to save the world so many times, why can't he and Ilsa finally get to find some happiness with each other? This series has had it's bittersweet moments but it's never been a tragedy. The conflict is meant to feel insurmountable (it is called Mission: Impossible after all) but the heroes still win and get to be happy and I expect that to continue to be the case in the very end.
Now, I understand and agree with confronting real consequences as we face our final antagonist of the series, but I would honestly predict an actual death from Luther or Benji in the final film - staples of the series and longtime friends of Ethan - that would hurt the audience too but not steal a future from him and perhaps Ilsa's "death" is also meant to deflect from the real death that's coming which would still, naturally, makes things very bittersweet. That being said, if this series wanted to continue to lean into happy outcomes over sad ones, then simply having Ethan get to live peacefully in the knowledge that he was able to keep all of his friends safe would be enough for him and for me.
As of now, I'm actually feeling hopeful about the potential for Ilsa to return. I think there are currently more viable reasons for why she could still be alive than dead and I think it would vastly improve the story they're telling rather than take away from it or feel forced because, as it stands, the execution of her death does feel less than the caliber of what this series is capable of and a surprise return would certainly remedy that. It wouldn't feel like a gimmick given the nature of the series, nor do I think it would undermine the death scene we got since it didn't have any impact on the plot and barely any on the characters anyway. Ilsa returning would improve things, not take away and if this all works to bring her back, it will take what was a lackluster plot point and unceremonious exit of a major character to a brilliant showcase of subterfuge both for the characters and the audience and the latter sounds more like the Mission: Impossible I know.
The first time Ethan faked the death of a woman he loved to protect her; he lost her. Now he's had to do it again and this time, he'll get her back. There's still hope.
#mission impossible#mission: impossible#ethan hunt#ilsa faust#ethan x ilsa#ilsa x ethan#mi7#mi7 spoilers#mission impossible dead reckoning#mission: impossible dead reckoning#ilsaethan#mission impossible dead reckoning part one#mission: impossible - dead reckoning part 1#dead reckoning part 1 spoilers#julia meade#luther stickell#benji dunn
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manly boys need love | kirishima eijiro
synopsis ↬ kirishima’s loving stepsister learns about his unnatural affections for her
warnings ↬ stepcest, non-con filming & picture taking, pwp, nipple-sucking, handj-b, you have a shitty step-dad, manipulation (?), slight nipple play, sub!kirishima, soft dom!reader, use of "baby boy" and "good boy", kiri doesn't act very manly, swearing
pairing ↬ pro-hero!aged up!kirishima x oldersis!afab!reader
word count ↬ 5.4k
The first time you noticed, you thought you were imagining things. It was only an innocent accident; knocking on his door one night to ask if he was hungry. You know, a pure-hearted gesture that older siblings did all the time. He didn't answer, but you could hear the faint sound of his voice through the wooden door. You're so pure, thinking he was speaking to someone on the phone. Until your name leaves his drooling lips, you freeze. Twisting the door open quietly, you peer through the small crack. Perhaps your mind began playing tricks on you, just someone else with your name, right? Many excuses were created that night because you didn't want to believe it was true. The opening was angled perfectly for you to see.
Saliva trickled down the corners of his mouth, his mind was lost in a haze. Mumbling incoherent curses as he focused his gaze on his red smartphone. A picture of you in a bikini from your family vacation out of the country displayed across his screen. You tried to pull your eyes away, thinking it was some random girl who resembled you. Even as you continued to watch him scroll through a catalog of photos, ranging from your exposed cleavage in a low cut shirt to more revealing clothing, you still believed it was all a lie.
His hands dipped inside the waistband of his shorts, releasing his girthy member from its cage. Wrapping his hand around the tip, he pumped around his length as expletives spewed from his mouth. Your palm clasped around your mouth to hold back your shock as you watched. Eijiro's precum leaked into his fist before he groaned and yearned for more. He briefly released his member as it protruded in the air. Spitting into his palm and fisting his cock, he wished it was you instead.
Eijiro heard you at his door that night, knocking before peering inside and gasping as you watched. He saw your shocked face from his peripheral vision, but of course you were too dumb to notice that. As his cum oozed into his fist and a final loud groan of your name echoed through the walls, you finally scurried off to your bedroom, trying to forget about the embarassing encounter.
The second time, you couldn't deny it anymore. Just as you managed to convince yourself that it was not you in those pictures, more signs emerged. You want to believe you're hallucinating when you notice a spikey-haired figure looming through the curtains as you showered. Perhaps your eyesight has been getting worse, you swear you see the flash of a camera light through an opening in your bedroom door while changing. Or when you heard shuffling inside your closet as you were knuckles deep inside your aching core after a stressful workday.
You wanted to tell your mother, surely she could give you a solution to this. That idea ended, however, when you noticed her gushing over her new step-son, pro-hero, Red Riot. Eijiro managed to capture the hearts of nearly every civilian in your town. Swooning the masses with his infectious smile and upbeat personality. To everyone, including your mother, he seemed like the perfect son. Always helping her around the house during his free-time, bringing her flowers and other expensive gifts, and making friendly conversations with the woman.
Going to his father, or your step-father, was completely out of the question. Watching the way he proudly displayed his son on a pedestal made you gag. Your step-father made very little attempts at building a relationship with you; a memory of him asking your mother to kick you out of their home replays in your mind. Would he believe you? You can imagine him accusing you of trying to ruin their family, although you were the daughter of his wife. Hearing your mother almost agree with her new husband, before quickly changing her mind, caused a sharp pain in your chest.
The few times you spoke with him, he was always condescending. Complaining about how you only took up space in their home and tarnished the name of their family by not becoming a pro-hero. Onlookers could easily tell that he preferred the company of his son over you. Initially, your mother seemed disturbed by his words. Yet, only after a few months, they began to share the same sentiments. "Why couldn't you be a hero like your brother?" "At least someone in this family cares about our future." "Worthless, all she does is sit on her ass all day... What a waste."
The more unprovoked insults were cursed at you, the more you began to avoid your step-father completely. You weren't in the mood to argue with him and deny all of his meaningless accusations. Ignoring Eijiro's behaviour slowly became impossible and there was no one willing to help you. Trying to be dismissive brought you no progress. Finally, you decided to confront your step-brother.
Tonight, you knocked on the wooden door leading to his room. The familiar tapping of your knuckles sends shivers down your spine; you didn’t want to think about that night but your mind flooded those images back. Soft, yet audible moans were heard beyond the door. Again, your name. This time, however, you wouldn’t make the mistake of opening it. Instead, you knock again — even yelling his name multiple times to get his attention.
“I’m coming!” The loud stomping of his footsteps causes the ground to tremble. Finally, the redhead opens the door. He seems disheveled and pants like he’s just finished a marathon. The waistband of his sweatpants wrap loosely around his waist. “What’s up, big sis?”
“Hey, Eijiro… Um, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” You watch as the hero's face becomes puzzled and concerned. “It won’t take too long, promise.”
Upon reassuring him, he nods and moves his body out of the path for you to enter. Eijiro’s room is a lot bigger and more polished than yours. It was your room before your step-father forced you out to make space for his golden child. Inside was his own personal gym, trophies he was awarded for his work, Crimson Riot and motivational posters, and, of course, framed photos of you and the family. You tried to ignore the sweet yet musky scent of the devious acts he was doing before you arrived.
He sits on the end of his camouflage bed and pats a seat next to him for you. You try to piece together some sentences but your mind is still hazy, leaving the redhead adjacent to you lost. After staying in silence for a few seconds, he clears his throat before speaking.
“So… what do you need to talk about?” Rubbing the back of his neck anxiously, he waits. You always hated when he pretended to be innocent, the same facade he does when dealing with your mother and step-father.
“Kiri… I know,” Only a few words manage to leave your mouth as he peers up at you. His expression changes from guilt to innocence in the blink of an eye. Eijiro knew one day you would question him about his actions, so he's been preparing.
“I don’t know what you mean.” He seems genuinely confused; if you were a fool, you would be convinced by it.
"I know," Your eyes closed as you sighed and tried to relax your fuzzy mind. "I know about the pictures."
"The pictures..?" Eijiro's eyes cast a persuading yet pitiful glance at you, trying to make you feel ashamed for asking him. You weren't fazed because deep down, you knew it needed to end. "What pictures are you talking about?"
"The pictures you have of me on your phone. That's what I'm talking about." Trying to sound stern didn't work on him and he remained with the same posture and facial expression: a hand still nervously scratching his spikey-hair and wide puppy eyes as he stared at you.
"Big sis, I really don't get what you mean. I only have family photos with you, nothing else. I love you and mom, you guys are my entire world. I want us to be happy, but you always make it hard-" Before he could finish the rest of his sob story, you interrupted him.
"Don't lie, Eijiro." His gaze seems to soften as he continues to watch you. Finally, he realized that you wouldn't back down and trust him. All you wanted was for him to stop talking, the same words that could manipulate the hearts of your parents would never bypass yours. "I'm not mad, I just want to talk." That was a lie, the whole situation made you livid.
Truthfully, this encounter was better than trying to discuss it with your mother or step-father. They would fall for his lovely words, melting as they listened to him professing his undying love for his older sister who refused to reciprocate. You were only cautious about interacting with him once you learned about the pictures; imagine what he would try to do if you two were alone. The thought was nauseating; they always criticized you every time you seemed to act inconsiderate to Eijiro. Always making himself seem like the holy child, you were the unruly one.
As a few seconds pass, Eijiro shuts his eyes tight. His lips tremble as if tears threaten to fall down his cheeks, but his dry eyes say otherwise. If he tried to cry his way out of this situation, you weren't sure what you would do next. Exhaling a deep and long breath, he finally starts to speak.
"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to- I just couldn't stop myself." Caving in, he admits and tries to find the right words to remedy your anger.
"I'm really disappointed in you. It's inappropriate for a brother to do that to his sister-" As you start to lecture your younger step-brother, he interrupts you. Just like an annoying little sibling, he wouldn't sit still and listen to your scolding.
"We aren't related." The unusual sound of his serious and monotone voice makes you freeze. Eijiro looks up at you with an agitated and deadpan expression, unlike his normal behavior.
"Eijiro, don't say things like that. It doesn't matter if we're related or not, our parents are married. I only see you as my brother and nothing else."
The bitterness of your words left a stinging discomfort in his heart. No, he did not want to believe it. Always convincing himself that it didn't matter since you two were not related by blood. The cold reality of your relationship seemed to be something that his delusion refused to let him accept. Eijiro doesn't care about meaningless labels like who is 'brother' and 'sister', he would have you to himself in the end. He was certain. His heart is still shattered, no amount of his convincing would change this.
"Well... you're more than a sister to me." Before you can scold him for spewing nonsense, his lips part as he speaks ahead of you. "I've always felt that way about you, before the wedding... when we first met." Too stunned to speak, you wonder if your brother was truly in the right mental state because all he said was pure foolishness. Suddenly, his head falls to his palms as he covers his face in anguish. "Why..? Why did they have to get married..?"
"...What? Why are you asking me that?"
"Because it's not fair... you're perfect for me, but I can't have you and it's not fair..." Eijiro raises his head as he stares at you again, this time pleading for you to understand him. "You don't get it, but you're all I can think of. I dream about you, about us. Every time we're apart, I can't stop wondering about you. When I close my eyes, you're the first thing I see. Fuck, it's awful when I'm in this house with them. I hate looking at them because they always remind me that I'll never have you."
“N- No, Eijiro. Stop…”
“No?” He relaxes in his seat and seems more than dejected. “…Why do you always ignore me? Is it because of the pictures? I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know I messed up… I’m so fucking dumb,” Balling his fists, he hits his forehead an alarming number of times while chanting “stupid, stupid” before stopping. “I know I disappointed you, just let me be good for you… I’ll change. Let me love you, let me worship you… please? I’ll be good… tell me you love me, praise me. Anything… I just need you right now, sis…”
"Eijiro..." Honestly, you weren't sure how to respond. You said the only thing that came to your mind, like the responsible big sister that you are. For a second, his eyes sparkle in hopes that you felt the same way. "Don't disrespect our parents."
Again, the harsh truth instantly reminds him of your situation. Of course, there was no possibility that you would agree with him. You were always better than him in every way, always resolute and steadfast, it makes him envious — you couldn't be swayed by him.
"Disrespect?" He says in disbelief before shrugging his shoulders and staring away. "I don't care. I wonder why you care, though. My dad always talks bad about you behind your back. I'm sure you know he hates you." You also can't figure out why you valued their marriage so much. "If it wasn't for that fucking wedding, you'd be mine. Wish I could tear up those dumb marriage papers..." Eijiro chuckles to himself before lowering his head to the ground.
He knows his actions were wrong, the mental toll of his behavior was gnawing at his morality every time he saw you. The only time he successfully manages to think otherwise is when he needs to ease the pressure from his swelling bulge. It was embarrassing, a hero meant to protect others from harm had caused his only sibling to go through discomfort and pain because of his devious acts. Only deserving of the worst karma and punishment.
Seeing him become saddened, you couldn't help but feel bad. You didn't hate him, you just didn't like his actions. Although his speech made you sympathize with him slightly, you couldn't urge yourself to do unholy things with him. Until...
"Look, I'm sorry if I sounded harsh. I just... I just need you to stop thinking about me like that." To you it seemed simple, but you were asking him to do the impossible. A smile tries to creep across his lips but soon fades, too heartbroken. What would a good big sister do in this situation? You finally decided to cave in, the only option you could think of. "If I help you... will you stop?"
"Yeah, I guess... but how will you help?" He seems hesitant to obey your request, yet decides to follow you.
"We can try something, just once. I'll help you get over it. You need to promise that you won't take pictures of me again."
"O- Okay, I promise." Although he isn't sure what you'll do next, Eijiro already has some ideas in his mind. Raising himself up until you two are eye-level, he seems ready to engage in whatever solution you plan. He knows he won't be compliant for long, but that doesn't affect him at all.
"Um, alright... Let's make this quick, yeah? I think they'll be home soon." An hour prior, your parents left home to attend a double date with another couple who lived nearby. Having them home during this whole encounter would only make things worse, you thought. Unsure where to begin, your hands nervously twitched together as your face flushed with warm heat.
"Nervous?" He interrupts your deep thoughts while staring up curiously. You didn't notice the impatient thumping of his foot against his floor as he waited.
"Yeah... I don't know where to start-" Start? You shouldn't be doing this at all.
The feeling of the redhead's lips against your neck makes you halt. Peppering kisses along the skin above your jugular before gliding is tongue along your collarbone, Eijiro's patience ran thin and he just couldn't listen to your rambling anymore. Instinctively, your hands grasp his shoulders as you try to slow down the excited hero who's too busy massaging your plush skin.
His fingers clawed into the cotton of your pajamas, leaving harsh bruises that would surely ruin your skin in the morning; so energetic, he accidentally hardened his fingers as dug into you. Your protesting went ignored, he waited too long for this moment and there was no way he would lose it. Moving his lips to kiss your lips to muffle your calls and slipping his tongue inside your wet cavern to shut you up, until you finally pulled away.
"S- Stop..!" You pant once you manage to escape his grasp. He begins to frown once again, too worried that he'll upset you. Secretly, you don't want to enjoy it too much or else you'll want more. "Don't do that..."
Pulling away from his arms, he thinks you'll leave him alone to deal with the growing tent in his sweatpants that is proudly on display and hard for you to ignore. You move up his bed until you're leaning against his headboard and pillow. Eijiro's gaze seems to ease once he sees you pat your legs for him to come closer. He soon follows like a pitiful and lonely man approaching the calls of a siren.
"Lay down." The hero follows your directions, waiting for you to place a pillow in your lap before finally resting his head on the soft padding.
Holding the hem of your pajama shirt, you lift the clothing until your breasts are exposed to his lustful gaze. The whole encounter, you failed to notice his constant glances to your chest once he noticed you weren't wearing a bra. His lips slightly parted and showed his sharp teeth, too mesmerized at the beauty in front of him. Brushing some of his locks away from his forehead while staring down at Eijiro, you hadn't noticed some of his features after ignoring him for so long. His usual furrowed eyebrows and aggressive eyes softened under your touch.
The pro-hero who was applauded by nearly every civilian and had posters of his tough aesthetic plastered everywhere seemed so docile, it was hard to fathom. Luckily the eyes of his fans and the world weren't watching him, this was something only you were lucky enough to see. Placing his hand up to one of your tits, you try to guide his large palm to massage your flesh. His drunken eyes move watch as he thumbs across your buds, a choked whimper leaves both of your throats almost simultaneously.
Whining and shifting uncomfortably, his hips bucked into the empty air as he desperately searched for something to help relieve himself; it was quite pathetic watching the manly hero squirm underneath you. His free hand palmed the front of his sweatpants trying to unsuccessfully release tension from his aching body. Softly chuckling at his actions, you replaced his hand with your own; pressing down at his hardened member. Your laughter soon followed with a gasp once feeling the impressive size in your hand through the loose fabric.
"C- Can I..?" He sheepishly asks as his fingers are busy toying with your nubs and peers up at you.
By now, you've forgotten the purpose of your actions. He's wrong, you're just as bad as him. The little morality in your mind narrowly escapes with your next words. Perhaps deep down, you yearned for the same wishes.
"Can you, what? Use your words for me," Grazing along the length of his shaft, you watched as he shuddered and blushed. Cute, you should try this more often. "Baby boy..." The name slips out of your mouth almost automatically and, for a second, you wonder why you aren't ashamed of yourself anymore.
Seeing him perk up in excitement fueled a side that you left hidden for a long time. This is what a good sister would do, right? Even if it meant that you could control your step-brother's lust for a short time, it wouldn't hurt to play along. Get everything over with before leaving him after his high and weeping in your room after a surge of guilt. This was only to help and get him to leave you alone. Yet, if this was so wrong, why did you feel a throbbing ache between your thighs?
“I need to- Can I s- suck on your tits, please..? Hurts bad… wanna taste…” He whispered in a tiny voice.
“That’s it…” Upon seeing you nod and oblige to his wishes, his lips hungrily wrapped around your bud while clutching tightly to the one in his hand. Flicking his tongue against your flesh before suckling, he watched as your face contorted in pleasure. “Good… good boy…”
His sharp teeth sink into your skin until you wince at the sudden pain. Eyeing him with a look that says “No biting”, you watch as he defiantly relaxes in your hold. You didn’t know, but it was humiliating for him to be so submissive. Yet, there was no part of him that wanted to press your body against his firm mattress and ravage you until your parents heard the echoes of your moans through his room. No, Kirishima secretly enjoyed this. As much as you and possibly even more. It wasn’t too bad, manly boys need love too.
Rolling his tongue over the bud, he eagerly listened to your small hushed gasps at his movements. One of his fingers tweaked and pulled at your free bud until a sore feeling erupted over your skin. Palming his member through his sweatpants you desperately wanted to release it from its strong hold. With each harsh suckle on your skin, Eijiro’s hips would buck into your hand, wishing and hoping for a meager release.
His wet, flat tongue ghosted along your areola. Soon, you joined him in trying to find friction for your core. Flicking your bud and encouraging more sinful sounds to escape your throat. Trying to hush your moans proved to be a task that you soon abandoned.
“Mmh~ E- Eiji… you’re so good… perfect.” Trailing your hands over his clothed region, you felt his hips buck into your palms as he sought after a meager release. Removing his hands from your bud, he roamed down past the flesh and to your pajama shorts before slipping his fingers inside and massaging over your clothed clit.
“Look at you, so pretty… is this all for me..?” You say whilst tugging the waistband of his sweatpants down and exposing his member to the warmth inside the room. “So big… just for me…”
Your fingers wrapped around his girthy shaft as you felt the straining member twitch happily in your palm. A low groan floated out of his throat as your thumb grazed his oozing tip, precum coating your skin. Quickly, you pulled your hand away before bringing your thumb to your mouth and savoring the salty clear essence on your tongue. Eijiro released another stressful whine from his lips and tugged on your bud with his teeth. You didn't know, but he hates teasing.
"Eiji..!" You gasped once feeling the boy's razor sharp teeth pierce the fragile skin of your areola. Upon seeing you wincing in pain, he brought his fingers towards your cheek and caressed your skin.
"I'm sorry... Don't get mad at me..! Need you bad, please... It hurts, don't leave," Eijiro left soft pecks along your chest, before leaning upwards and attaching his lips to your neck and cheeks.
"Okay... Okay, I'm not mad... Lay down again." Gently pushing his chest until his head was placed in your lap again, your hand returned to its hold on him while he sighed in relief.
Pumping his length in your fist, you watched as his hips bucked into your hand. His chest heaved repeatedly against your body until a spew of expletives left his mouth, just like that night. Slowly enveloping his veiny cock into your palm, you watched as the boy soon became restless in your hold. Shifting his lower region of his body until he could feel more pleasure surge to his untouched cock. A deep red covered his cheeks and nose while his eyes shut tightly.
Setting a slow pace seemed to make him more restless with every passing second. Nearly snapping his hips upwards in frustration, his face shifted in discomfort.
"P- Pleeease... I can't..." Eijiro's hands returned to grasp onto your still exposed breasts, clinging tightly as if he thought you would run away.
"Eiji, I told you to use your words," Groaning, he seemed too reluctant to listen to your encouragement. "What's wrong, baby? Tell me..."
Reaching down, one of his empty hands tightly wrapped around your fingers and his shaft. As he nuzzled closer to your flesh and inhaled your scent, he guided your hand to pump along his foreskin faster. Once you reach the perfect speed, his lips encompass your pebbled flesh once more. A few more low moans and gasps echoed through the room and vibrated against your skin.
"F- Faster, please... fuck," Eijiro begged into your skin, releasing his hold on your body for a few seconds as his muscles began to sieze.
Quickening your pace, his sticky clear nectar coated your fingers as you massaged his cock. Eijiro's body soon completely stilled in your grasp, rutting his hips into your hand as his breath became more rigged. Arching his back against your thighs, you could feel the twitching of his cock in your palm. His hot breath tickled the skin on your flesh as you watched his face flush with heat. Detaching his lips from your buds, a string of saliva connected you together before breaking apart.
"Fuck, fuck... it's- i'm c- coming..!" Creamy, white essence poured from his reddened tip, trickling down the back and inside of your hand. Soon painting your hands white as he emptied himself inside your palm. His grasp on your body tightened while you coaxed out every drop from his aching balls. Gritting his teeth as his body shuddered against yours, Eijiro finally rested his head against your thighs again, still cooling down from his high.
You scanned around his nightstand until you spotted a box of tissues — some were crumpled and placed next to a mysterious looking bottle of lotion, but you ignored it. Reaching for the tissue, you cleaned your fingers and some cum still oozing out of Eijiro’s tip. The panting sweaty hero seemed to get comfortable in your hold as he continued to nuzzle closer to your chest, almost wanting to drift asleep.
“Eiji, this is the last time, okay? Don’t get your hopes up.” After cleaning your fingers and his now limp member, you tossed the tissue on the nightstand. Kirishima knows this won’t be the last time. “And clean these up, it’s gross.” Too dazed from his high, the boy couldn’t listen to his sister’s usual scolding, you tried gaining his attention in another way. “Where’s your phone?”
“Here…” He weakly passed his phone to you, not bothering to ask any questions.
“What’s the password?”
“1610.” His birthday, of course.
Opening his gallery, you scan the photos. His most recent ones seem to be low-quality dick pictures and a couple of selfies with his friends, you would usually press about them but decide not to bother the drowsy hero. You find an album of your indecent photos, much more than you first imagined. Quickly, you deleted the album, which resulted in every single photo of you disappearing as well. Even making sure that he couldn’t restore them any time soon.
“What did you do?” He asks as a couple words slur from his lips. After resting for a couple minutes, he seems to regain his senses.
“I deleted the pictures. Please, I don’t want to see them again.” Tossing the phone across the bed, you pull down your shirt and help tuck his member away in his sweats.
“Why am I such a pathetic brother? I can’t even get that shit right.” Lifting himself off of your lap, he rests his body against the cushioning of his mattress before staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought. “Why don’t you stay with me? Wanna cuddle?”
“No, I’m a little tired. I need to go back to my room before they come home.” Raising off the bed, you make it to the door before he can say any more persuading words for you to stay.
“But, what about you? I can make you feel good, come. Please..? I'll lock the door so they won't bother us... Don't you want to stay with me?” Trying not to look into his eyes, you tidy your clothes before heading to the door. He tries reaching for your hand but you swat him away.
“I’ll figure something out.” You had no choice, the throbbing pain in your core needed to be dealt with soon. A pool of slick in your panties makes walking uncomfortable.
Eijiro pouts as he watches you leave and desperately wants to call after you. The sound of his bedroom door clicking shut reminds him that again, he is alone. The ecstasy from your comforting touch began to wear off. Soon, he found himself miserable and thumping his foot against the mattress, he wished you were still here. As he relaxed on his bed, he knew this was something lingering. A feeling that neither of you would ignore over the next couple of days. He yearned for more. Beyond a momentary pleasure, he knew he needed more.
You heard his frustrated yet loud huffs as you stood by his door. No matter what would happen, you promised your self not to give into temptation. Although your methods might not be the best, if you were lucky, you wouldn’t have to worry about any pictures for a long time. As you walk towards your bedroom to prepare for a sleepless night, the front door of your home swings open and reveals your mother and step-father returning from their date.
“(Y/N)! How’ve you been?” Your mother says while smiling up at you. Your step-father barely gives you a glance and simply walks straight past you to their bedroom. Giving your mother a simple “good”, she continues. “Don’t worry about him. We had a little fight on the way back, but it’s fine!” She says gleefully but you know a little fight is an understatement. “Were you in Eijiro’s room?”
“Y- Yeah, we were just talking…” Although you tried not to bring too much attention to yourself, you couldn’t stop the look of embarrassment on your face.
“I’m glad. I really want you guys to get closer, you know? It’s hard since everything feels sudden, but give him a chance. He’s very nice!” She sets her coat on a jacket hanger before taking off her shoes and placing them by the door.
“We’ll see what happens.” This is the only time.
Riot ❤️🔥 (2:54 AM) : sis, are you still up? I can hear you from my room
You (2:56 AM) : sorry just having trouble sleeping
Fingers playfully dancing around the hood of your clit trying to bring yourself to a climax that fails to erupt. Moans and pants of annoyance echo through the walls. Your mother hears it but your step-father is dismissive. Eijiro finally brought a girl home, he thinks.
You (2:58 AM) : but why are you still up?
Riot ❤️🔥 (2:59 AM) : dunno, can’t sleep too
He can’t sleep because as your loud sounds bounce off the walls and into his ears, he feels himself spark with excitement. There are no photos to ease his desires anymore. All he can imagine is having your body in his bed, contorting in pleasure. The feeling of your flesh against his tongue and teeth and your hands massaging around him. He soon learns his own hands aren’t enough anymore.
You (3:04 AM) : need some help with something… wanna come over?
It’s almost poetic. Through your righteous speeches about being “siblings” with no blood relation or needing to value your parents dysfunctional marriage, you were still worse than him. At least he was honest and didn't pretend. Before you could regret your text message, the twisting of your doorknob breaks you from your thoughts. The redhead enters without knocking, even bolder than you.
Before you could speak, he kneels in front of your bed. Hands in his lap, eager and ready to serve.
#tw stepcest#kirishima x reader#kirishima smut#kirishima headcanon#kirishima eijiro x reader#kirishima x you#kirishima x y/n#eijiro x reader#eijirou x reader#eijiro headcanons#kirishima hcs#eijiro smut#mha x reader#mha smut#mha headcanons#bnha headcanons#bnha smut#kirishima imagine#mha x you#mha x y/n#mha ejirou smut#mha kirishima smut#eijiro kirishima smut
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JATP Season 2 Wishlist
that i wrote in my notes app back in:
and realized i never posted it here? tbf i'm rarely on tumblr. but because i really miss them rn i want to share my ✨ brainrot ✨ that i had back when i thought they were getting a renewal.
Carrie Wilson
she was my biggest flaw in Season 1. I wish her "redemption arc" is fleshed out more in Season 2; give her either more context & backstory to validate her reason for unnecessarily antagonizing Julie, or screentime to properly address how she's just projecting an emotion completely different into bitterness and anger into Julie's recovery
show particularly her earlier dynamic w/ Flynn and Julie? Maybe as Flynn calls her out, we'd get flashback glimpses prior to Rose's death (maybe even Double Trouble temporarily being Triple Threat 👉🏽👈🏽)
for some reason i'm picturing a scene where she's in her dance studio (she has one in their mansion, of course) practicing some of her Dirty Candy routine when she keeps messing up and not in the right mindset to keep dancing. i feel like the best (maybe easiest but whatever) way to guide the audience into her artist mind is to make her be a perfectionist. in frustration, she blows up for a minute before slumping onto the ground and reminisces her fun times with Julie & Flynn
also when you have her develop, please don't make her lose her femininity and the bubblegum pop music, it's great
Old Songs Resurfacing
it'll prove how detailed & thorough you are as a screenwriter if you pay off the songs mentioned in Season 1 in passing to be actual songs in Season 2
Unreleased: Get Lost, Long Weekend, Crooked Teeth, My Name is Luke, and if that riff from the scene in EP. 5 that spurred on the Bobby reveal isn't from one of these songs, add that too
Demo Album: Late Last Night, Lakeside Reflection, In Your Starlight
Willex
imagine your queer couple gets to have their first kiss first than your het main couple, not only will that settle Madi & Charlie's statements about being uncomfortable in doing a kissing scene and maintaining the priority of Juke's emotional over physical relationship, it would also make an powerful statement
Reggie's Character Arc
i know that he initially had an arc that involved a romance with Flynn but because of the ages of who they casted, they scrapped it and didn't have time to rewrite the scripts for him as filming neared, so they have time to adapt to how jeremy portrayed him for season 2: a lovable dork who craves familial love
since there's a possibility that lifers can now see the boys, maybe some found family trope for Reggie and Ray Molina?
he has pretty much formed a parasocial relationship with him at this point
so why not instead of a love interest, Reggie can have his character arc develop & we see his family before thru flashbacks and paralleling those in the current times because he sees Ray as a father figure
picture this: it's raining, Bobby opens the garage door to the sound of knocking, the boys find Reggie soaking wet and out of breath when he tries to say he doesn't know where else to go then the boys immediately figure out another fight in the Peters household happened. Reggie tries to talk again when Alex (because even though they're the airhead-sarcastic duo, they know they love each other) runs up to hug him and tells the other he doesn't have to say anything
cut to a freshly showered Reggie, quietly watching tv with Bobby, Luke, and Alex in the garage, eating whatever
also a solo acoustic country song, pls. just to make him happy
The Aftermath of the Deaths
for both the boys and Rose
we get parallels about how Bobby dealt with trauma and grief to Julie
like, the reason why the clothes are still in there (are to have costume changes for the boys) is because Bobby immediately moved out of the house (therefore also the garage) and left the clothes there because he couldn't bear to burn it, or visit the boys' houses to break the news to their families and return the clothes, or donate it somewhere so he just...left it. it would make for a more solid reason (for costume changes) and an emotional context as to how Bobby really tried to forget them because it was "easier."
it would also make sense why Carrie and Julie ended up friends. Rose probably was there for Bobby when they discovered what happened at the alleyway, so they stayed friends over the years and had their respective families but still kept in touch, (bonus points if absolutely nothing romantic happened between them! yay to normalizing platonic male-female relationships) and why Rose would immediately think of Bobby's three late bandmates to send for Julie when she was on her deathbed
Bobby never really "moved on" (because grief is a really complex thing). it's showed that he has a therapist and everything, and this could definitely have some aftereffects on his daughter. Carrie growing up seeing her father be this amazing rockstar but a negligent father and only showing love in ways she doesn't need (like riches and fame and connections to the music industry) because he's actually a really lonely man on the inside and no one can see that except for Bobby's spouse and Carrie. it'd explain why Carrie is spoiled, and other negative character traits that Carrie has on the surface
it's even why Bobby changed his name to Trevor: 1) Bobby is so closely associated to Sunset Curve and it's an absolute pain to be reminded of that every day, 2) it's a stage name and artists really do get that
More Worldbuilding
they already had some pretty creative concepts/ideas in the first season, so why not expand/expound on them a bit more
the instruments are attached to their souls that's why the boys at first can only touch them, like how Willie's skateboard and helmet are attached to him
which is why when they attach themselves to the world of the present, they gather up energy and focus on touching tangible things like the picture frame
this may follow the logic toward the end where they are finally able to touch Julie because she has become attached to their souls. emotionally.
More Creative Collaboration
i believe in the principle that when a story is finally released/published/told to the world, the world shares it. this is also visible in film/tv where when the scripts are finished and actors receive them, the story becomes part of theirs to work on. which means that they have some sort of autonomy over their characters' motivations, a chance to be heard of their ideas and pitches, and why some certain scenes wouldn't work, etc etc. it doesn't just become the director's story nor the screenwriters'.
the actors' ideas such as Perfect Harmony and their solos from Nothing to Lose are great because they let them in. they took risks, and it paid off incredibly well. more of that please. have them be a part of the writing process, (also the story), but never forget what made the music production great in the first place. be coherent and don't be like others that let too many hands work on one piece—it will lose its sound, its identity.
Julie Knowing
that Nick is possessed by Caleb. ohmygOD. hear me out.
the same S1 ending will play somewhere in 2x01, but it will be revealed that Julie was watching through the window the entire time and when she opens the door to receive the flowers, that last look she gives him is actually her scheming.
determined to get Nick back, imagine The Promised Neverland's level of mindgames Julie could play with Caleb because we already know our girl's smart
Free Willie Willie's Freedom
since the boys feel indebted to Willie's help, they insist on helping him too with getting rid of Caleb's stamp
maybe through his connection with Alex? or maybe Willie's family or friends who are still lifers (which is unlikely but either way). he needs to be saved !!
Song Sequences Ideas
juke counter melody duet like Rini's "Even When/The Best Part," Shane & Mitchie's "Wouldn't Change a Thing," or dodie & Jon Cozart's "a love song/a non love song"
emotional carrie ballad paired with lyrical hiphop choreo
willex song - i absolutely have no idea where this could go directionally but maybe alex on an acoustic guitar with a really soft sweet tune
reprises of S1 songs but in the complete opposite of their original style (the fandom's lonelier All Eyes on Me version, i see u)
nick guitar solo - just because Sacha actually plays, idk how it'd fit in to the plot yet but hey
Nothing to Lose (Reprise) - back in the '90s, a producer manipulates Bobby to sign a record deal to become a star but on one condition: disassociate himself with Sunset Curve, to which he first declines until he slowly gets persuaded. (sort of like Todrick Hall's So Lucky to Be You meets Lyn Lapid's Producer Man)
"So how about it, Bobby Shaw? Do we have a deal?"
"Trevor."
"I'm sorry?"
"Call me Trevor Wilson."
i'm pretty sure someone made an animatic with this idea too but i cannot for the life of me find it !!
7. Season 2 starts the same way as Season 1 does before the opening song plays
Black screen that reads a text "Hollywood 1995"
a pan down to the Orpheum's overhead sign that reads "SUNSET CURVE SOLD OUT"
cut to the interior with Rose finishing up her cleaning when a stage manager calls out: "Sunset Curve!" to which Bobby abruptly stops his pacing back and forth to look up. he and Rose look at each other. music swells until...
cut to him running onto the alleyway, "are they still not finished eating? those gluttons are dead to me i swear—" he cuts off his own words when he sees the boys getting dragged onto stretchers. but we, the audience, don't see it. just a close up of bobby as the ambulance lights reflects his face. rose comes up behind him, still clutching their t-shirt.
[i honestly have no idea if Bobby should get on stage because it just proves Luke's theory of The Orpheum's opening bands eventually becoming big & successful so it'll explain the Trevor Wilson fame even though at first he only did it for the boys, or if he shouldn't because according to the article Julie googled he ran away immediately after they were pronounced in the scene] but either way, this is how the opening starts.
then it progresses to Rose and Bobby respectively having children so they could parallel each other blah blah
8. Julie plays a simple song on the piano while the guys watch her in awe
Storytelling through Props
let's dive deep into Rose's luggage/suitcase and use the props to head for Julie's emotional attachment with them
they already did it with the wardrobe: Rose wears the black leather vest in the pilot while Julie wears the same thing in EP 6
add depth to the characters' relationships like us finding out Julie's multilayered necklace is actually a gift from Carrie or something
SOYON ANN YOU'RE A GIFT FROM GOD. Bobby's necklace is present in both young and old!him
**Rose in flashback scenes should be wearing clothes we've already seen Julie in Season 1 just for greater effect.
The Bobby Conflict
definitely needs to be brought up again by Season 2; they only discarded somewhere in the middle because more pressing matters like the boys' existence blipping away was pushed to the forefront of the story
however, The Bobby Conflict changes. it'll be cleared up that he was offered a record deal as a solo artist by a manipulative producer. and given that the poor boy is only 17 (too, maybe), he agrees. what he doesn't know is the contract's fine print: giving up Sunset Curve's royalties
that information clears it up to the audience and the band, so the conflict becomes this: Bobby's Survivor's Guilt. god wouldn't that be so good tackling that in a kids'/family show.
#julie and the phantoms#jatp#julie molina#reggie peters#luke patterson#alex mercer#carrie wilson#bobby wilson#trevor wilson#willie#bobby shaw#ray molina#carlos molina#rose molina#flynn taylor#uranus
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It's here, the most wonderful time of year! Curl up with hot chocolate and a warm blanket and these fics! Make sure you leave creators some love!
❄�� Day 1 Reveals ❄️
Unexpected Places
[David/Patrick, M, 11,012 words]
The last thing David expected, or wanted, was for a phone call from his sister to interrupt his viewing of 'The Holiday' and drag him out into the Canadian mountains after her car breaks down. Add to that the worsening snowstorm as he travels further north and Alexis accepting a complete stranger's invitation to wait in his cabin until David can get to her and the day has taken a very different and highly unwelcome turn than the one he was anticipating.
But then he meets the stranger, and perhaps he can forgive Alexis this one. After all, he's seen the film before but Patrick is new.
*❄️*
David Rose and the Gingerbeard Man
[David/Patrick, M, 5,300 words]
David Rose has exceedingly low expectations of the Elmdale Christmas Street Party. After visiting the Kristkindlemarkts of Austria, Germany and Northern France, revelling in artisan wares and unique delicacies, he doubts anything can live up to the festive romance he experienced in his twenties.
Best Budd, Stevie, refuses to let David wallow through his second Christmas in Schitt's Creek.
Lured by the smell of baked goods and a smattering of tasteful stalls, David meets a gingerbeard man who makes him feel gooey inside. But David doesn't like gingerbread....orr gingerbeards. Does he?
*❄️*
Late Fees and Future Dreams
[Patrick & Johnny, G, 2,600 words]
While helping out at the church’s rummage sale, Patrick meets a well dressed man with horrible taste in gifts.
*❄️*
[podfic] Odd Man Rush
[David/Patrick, M, 31:56]
After the game, David intercepted Patrick on Patrick’s way back to the locker room. Stevie snapped photos as Patrick pulled David into a kiss. He held onto his stick in one hand, the wood precariously close to knocking David in the head, and the other pulled David into him by the ass, the glove lost in the blue and white of the jersey David was wearing, the name “BREWER” stamped loud and proud on his back.
Or, David is a hockey BF.
Odd Man Rush: An attacking move where the defense is outnumbered by the opposing team.
*❄️*
CREATORS: If your works were released today, please don’t forget to update your posting date!
#schitt's creek#scfrozenover#sc fanworks#sc fanfic#sc frozenover#sc frozen over#patrick brewer#david rose#johnny rose#sc podfic
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Kaiju Week in Review (February 25-March 2, 2024)
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Brush of the God is finally out in the world, having premiered at the Osaka Asian Film Festival on March 2. Above is the most recent trailer, looking as impressive as ever. A more complete cast list is out too—Yumiko Shaku, Takumi Saitoh, Shiro Sano, and Shinji Higuchi are all in it. Haven't seen any reviews in English yet, but I suspect it's something special.
Lots of comic news this week, but I'm giving Godzilla: War for Humanity #4 its own section because it continues to be so stellar. In the penultimate issue, Godzilla finally comes face-to-face with Zoospora—with the odds now thoroughly stacked against him. Ends on a great cliffhanger, with emotional catharsis reached but a world-class kaiju still left to beat.
Every Monsterverse film has an obligatory graphic novel tie-in, and they've never felt more obligatory than Godzilla x Kong: The Hunted. Kong has the A-plot, taking on the Titan Hunter, a mech piloted by the owner of a construction company who (surprise!) lost his family in 2014. It's pretty amusing watching him get high on his own supply fighting second-rate Titans before an unarmed Kong dismantles him, but the character is just too generic. Godzilla's B-plot is just a protracted setup for the film. (I'm keeping my description vague because the identity of his Titan opponent hasn't been revealed in GxK's marketing yet.) I hope this is Brian Buccellato's last time writing Godzilla, as Fight or Flight and the first five issues of Justice League vs. Godzilla vs. Kong weren't much better, but I probably shouldn't be optimistic. Zid's art is unsurprisingly the highlight, though he's sharing space with Dario Formisani and Drew Johnson. Some stunningly bad scaling and weird-looking Godzillas on those pages. Note that the comic is only (officially) available to backers of the hardcover edition on Kickstarter right now; the paperback edition comes out on March 26, a few days before Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire.
Titanic Creations has released a cover for their Gorgo Legacy graphic novel (amusingly Approved by the Monster Code Authority). It's written by Mac McClintock and Patrick McEvoy, with the latter also illustrating, and will be 60 pages long. Releases summer 2024, with plans for two more.
Volume 7 of Kaiju Girl Caramelise also released last week, and while I was hoping to share my thoughts on it, none of my local libraries have stocked it yet. So here's a simple reminder that it exists.
Netflix's Ultraman: Rising now has a poster and a June 14 release date. S.H. FigureArts and Movie Monster Series figures for the film have also been revealed.
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Gameplay videos for Godzilla x Kong: Titan Chasers are starting to show up on YouTube, courtesy of early-access invites going out. Reminds me of that Avengers Alliance game I played for all of a week. And a new month means new Godzilla Battle Line characters; this time it's GMK King Ghidorah and a Biollante variant. They're also overhauling All-Star Battle Mode later this month, letting you chose 50 units to deploy against the CPU (so less underleveled four-stars and other chaff ruining your runs).
#kaiju week in review#brush of the god#godzilla#godzilla war for humanity#godzilla x kong the hunted#ultraman rising#godzilla x kong titan chasers#godzilla battle line#comics#video games#art
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