#being unable to do anything but watch 1 cartoon over & over again because everything else makes me wanna die is NOT. A. SUPERPOWER.

[pa-pa-plasma]

sick of this "autistics are the only people who contributed to human evolution" bullshit do yall not realize that you're literally saying the exact same shit about non-autistics as neurotypicals say about ND's?? other disabilites exist. contributing to society isnt what makes a person matter. you should know this. stop acting like disabilities are superpowers challenge (impossible)

[forever-your-soldat]

Baby Girl

Part 1

It's been three days and Natasha quietly watches as Y/n sleeps in their shared bed, still in the form of a child. In any other circumstances, she would have distanced herself from children, but this was her girlfriend.

Tony and Bruce have yet to figure out how to reverse the girl, so Natasha was left in looking after the child, along with Wanda and Vision. Sometimes Steve would come along and play with the little girl, his natural protective instincts making him a mother hen around the girl and Clint, with his father instincts, would constantly dote on her and found it hard to resist when she asked for things.

Well, all of them couldn't say no when she would ask them with those big and innocent eyes of hers. But everything she would ask for was all reasonable except for the late nights and excess candies.

And true to her words, Tony bought every single thing he could think of for the little girl when he wasn't in the lab and needed to take a break. Bruce was also much more calm with Y/n's bubbly little self and he was found smiling more.

But during the past three days, Natasha can't help but find out more about her girlfriend that she didn't even realize before. Y/n was always filled with wonder, asking so many questions that she would normally already know, look out the window from up in the tower, and was always trailing after someone, never finding her alone unless they had asked her, but then they would hear her speaking with FRIDAY.

"Nat?"

The gentle call of her name snaps her out of her daydreaming and she smiles when she pulls Y/n to her chest. "I'm here." She told her as she brushed her hair from her face and kissed the top of her head.

"When will I see my mommy and daddy?"

Another thing. Y/n would always ask about her parents and Natasha figures that her entire self was reduced to when she really was four. She doesn't remember any of them and she'd gotten a bit surprised when Sam and Steve greeted them from their day out.

Y/n was clueless about her parents' deaths. She had no memory of having to constantly move or the time she learned about what happened and set herself to get revenge on the people that killed her parents.

The redhead struggles with it because she doesn't want to lie to Y/n, but if she was able to spare her from that heartache and anger, she was willing to keep quiet and let her live as a normal child for as long as she can.

"Well, they're still busy, honey. We don't know when they'll be back." She stuck with the story she, and the rest of the team, thought of when Y/n first asked.

When it happened, none of them were sure what to say. The only ones who really knew the details that weren’t in her files were Natasha and Fury but they all knew that they couldn’t mention anything about the incident. After a brief pause, Natasha came up with a lie that the little girl easily believed and just went back to play with the Scarlet Witch.

Natasha saw the small frown already forming on her face and it made her frown as well. “Come on, let’s go see what’s for breakfast.” She tried and Y/n nodded though she was obviously not happy that she couldn’t see her parents yet.

“I miss them.” Y/n whispered when she buried her face to the redhead’s neck and Natasha felt her heart twist painfully at the sadness that laced in her voice. She gently rubbed her back then kissed her head. “I know, moya lyubov. But we have to be patient, okay?”

She hated having to do this, feeding her false hope. Often times she thinks she does more harm than good, but to reveal that her parents were, in fact, dead, it would be too much for her to handle. At least like this, the sadness was only temporary.

“Good morning, you two.” Steve greeted them as they entered the kitchen and Wanda smiled at them from her seat, but a frown quickly replaced her smile when she caught on to Y/n’s thoughts before Natasha showed her a sad smile. “Steve is making your favorite, Y/n.”

At the mention of her favorite food, Y/n lifted her head off the redhead’s shoulder and squirmed before she was placed on the floor before she was running toward the super soldier. She quickly grabbed his pant leg and he looked down to meet her big e/c eyes staring up at him.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He chuckled, crouching down so they were at eye level and Y/n pointed to what he was cooking, though unable to see. “Are you really?” She didn’t even have to ask as he grinned and nodded his head.

“I am. Do you want to wait at the table?” But she shook her head and Steve laughed lightly then nodded before he carefully picked her tiny body into his strong arms and placed her on his hip, using one hand to finish making breakfast with Y/n watching in awe, giggling as Steve spoke to her every now and then.

Natasha smiled, relaxing as she saw Y/n finally smiling again. “She asked again?” Wanda made sure to keep her voice down just so Y/n wouldn’t hear them. “She asked as soon as she woke.” Natasha told her with a small shake of her head, arms crossed as she stared at the table.

One thing everyone on the team found out was that Y/n was a very honest and expressive child. It took them a while to get used to it because they’d all gotten so used to her being closed off, only ever expressing her thoughts when she thought it was needed, minus for when she’s with Natasha. Yet there were times that she refused to tell her girlfriend her troubles.

The more they found out about Y/n as a child, the more they saw how it contrasted to her now, and it pained Natasha to know all of that now. It made her feel a bit guilty because she knew that Y/n struggles with her past. She knows that she finds it hard to talk about. So now that she’s experiencing it without Y/n actually intending to do so has her thinking that it just didn’t seem fair.

Y/n was a very happy and innocent child. She was pure and kindhearted. And though she still was kind at heart, she had trouble showing it, she was more guarded that she’s subtle with her affections that it isn’t noticeable most of the time. It was how she and Natasha understood each other better compared to everyone else on the team.

“Y/n is strong. We just have to help her.” Wanda had smiled and Steve finally finished cooking, setting Y/n on a chair next to Natasha before he put a plate in front of her then set the rest on the table for anyone who wanted.

“Can I play with Vision today?” Y/n asked after she swallowed a mouthful of her food. Wanda smiled at her in reply. “I think he’d be happy to do spend time with you.” She answered and Steve glanced at her before nodding.

“He can stay here with you while we all go out.”

Natasha’s stomach dropped and her head snapped over to the blond. “What?” She asked as he looked sheepish. “Sorry, but we’ve been given a mission for today.” He explained carefully and by the looks of it, Y/n seemed upset because they were all leaving.

“What do you mean, all of us? Can’t at least more than one person stay here, with her?” Natasha demanded and Steve sighed in response. “I know you’re worried but Fury gave the order. He said that he needed all of us on board and with the situation, only one person can stay behind.”

“I don’t think it’s wise with just one person.” Wanda sided with Natasha, not at all pleased with leaving her best friend vulnerable. She knew that Vision would be looking after Y/n, but it didn’t ease her worries that something bad might happen while they were all away.

“There’s a very low chance that anyone or anything will come here.” Steve reasoned. “The fact that there is a chance is high enough for me to worry about leaving her with just one person.” Natasha countered heatedly. “HYDRA knows the state she’s in. If they find out that she’s here with only one person to defend her, they will send enough people just so they can get their hands on her.”

“This isn’t my choice, Nat! Fury was clear with his instructions and you know I can’t just ignore that even when I’m just as worried.” Steve said, uneasy with the conversation. He felt bad for having to leave Y/n behind, but he had no choice.

“You don’t have to listen to everything Fury says!” Natasha shot back.

Wanda glanced worriedly between the two. She wasn’t sure what to do, but she needed them to stop because she could see the discomfort on Y/n’s face when they started yelling. She tried to get their attention, but they were too busy trying to reason with each other to bother so Wanda ended up standing and taking the now crying child into her arms and walked out of the room.

She gently wiped her tears away as she made her way to the common room and sat down. “Shh, it’s okay.” She said lightly, carefully running her fingers through her hair as she calmed the girl down. “No more tears, little one. You’re okay.” She cooed and Y/n sniffled as she looked at Wanda.

“I’m sorry.”

Wanda cocked a brow in confusion as she held the girl. “Why are you apologizing, Y/n? You’ve done nothing wrong.” She told her and Vision came into the room, looking for her, then smiling when he saw the pair. But when he saw the tear stains on Y/n’s face, he immediately frowned and made his way over, sitting down beside his girlfriend to examine the little girl.

“Why are you crying, Y/n? Are you hurt?” He asked worriedly but she shook her head in reply. “Nat and Steve are fighting because of me.” She answered both his and Wanda’s questions and the latter smiled before she shook her head. “No, Y/n. They aren’t fighting. They’re both just very worried.” She explained while pulling the girl to her chest. “Don’t worry, okay?”

Y/n nodded quietly, trusting the witch’s words, another thing they noticed. She was very trusting of the people around her yet had troubles trusting people before she was turned into a child.

Vision glanced at the kitchen before he nodded then placed a hand on Y/n’s arm with a smile. “Do you wish to watch cartoons?” He asked and the little girl mumbled a soft yes, so he turned the television on and stopped when Tom and Jerry appeared on the screen, immediately taking away her attention.

“If it would be okay, maybe you should stay with her?” The android suddenly asked and the brunette pursed her lips. “I don’t mind but... I just feel like something bad will happen if there’s only one person guarding her.” She tells him and he ponders for while. “There really is no other option here. We cannot take her with us nor can we have another member be left behind.” He mumbled thoughtfully whilst his girlfriend nodded.

“If someone were to stay, I think the most suitable person is you or Natasha.” He claimed as he glanced at Y/n quietly giggling at the show, making him smile lightly.

Their peace soon ended when Natasha left for her and Y/n’s room, slamming it as she entered. The couple shared a look before they proceeded with keeping Y/n distracted until the others had to leave.

Eventually, Natasha made the decision of staying with Y/n. After her argument with Steve that morning, she didn’t feel like going out and deal with anyone else.

So when it was just her, watching as Y/n went around their room and babbling about the many things she saw, her mind kept going back to all the things she’s learned about her girlfriend and without noticing, a tear had fallen down her cheek. The only time she realized that it happened was when Y/n looked back at her and frowned before she walked over then stood on her tiptoes as she reached for Natasha’s face.

“Don’t cry.” She mumbled softly and Natasha couldn’t fight the smile that crawled up her lips and she held the tiny hands that pressed against her cheeks. “I’m okay.” She whispered back while she stared into her e/c eyes.

They were lighter compared to the one she’s used to, but they were still the same, staring at her with nothing but love, care, and adoration.

“Tasha?” She hummed before seeing the little shy smile on her face. “When I grow up, can I marry you?”

She was caught off guard. It was such an innocent question, but knowing that this was her girlfriend, who had been a child who wasn’t supposed to know her yet at that age, still had the same attraction. Knowing that Y/n’s heart still recognized her, belonged to her, had tears coming out of her eyes again.

“Why do you want to marry me?” She couldn’t help asking and Y/n looked at her oddly before she tilted her head.

“Well, daddy said he married mommy because he loves her a lot. They take care of each other and make each other happy. I already know that I love you and I wanna take care of you and make you happy everyday.” She explained while clumsily wiping away Natasha’s tears.

“Can I?” She tried again after not really receiving an answer and Natasha nodded her head. “Of course you can.” She whispered and a big smile spread across Y/n’s face before she kissed Natasha’s cheek then ran back to their room, returning a few minutes after with a bead ring in her grasp.

“I made this for you yesterday. Will you wear it until I’m old enough to marry you?” She asked shyly and Natasha had to bite her lip from sobbing and pulled Y/n into her arms. “I promise, I’ll wear it everyday.” She told her and Y/n had the biggest smile on her face.

>>

[imperiuswrecked]

Fanfic Authors Tag Game

Tagged by: @marblesarelost Tagging: @veliseraptor @traincat 

AO3 Name: ImperiusRex

Fandoms:  Marvel & DC (comics mostly but I enjoy other stuff too like cartoons and movies), Mercy Thompson book series, Dresden Files book series, Black Sails, Star Trek, early seasons of Vikings.

Number of fics: 66 trying to get to 100 before the end of the year hopefully!

1. Fic you spent the most time on: I really can’t say, because a lot of my fics are ones that I start and then put on pause for a time until I find the muse to start/finish them again, which takes anywhere from one day to years. However the longest ongoing wip I have is: To Find my Soul a Home; very long fic about Namor’s life and has slow burn Jim/Namor as the endgame. I have been working on it on and off for about 3 years. Still working on it.

2. Fic you spent the least time on:  Strange Customs; short Jim/Namor fluff fic set during the Oracle Inc holiday party.

3. Longest fic: Catching Quicksilver; 61,858 word fic (26 chapters)  featuring Remy/Pietro. It’s my first published fic too.

4. Shortest fic: Mister Dibbles; 556 word fic about Pietro learning more about his new pet.

5. Most hits:  Catching Quicksilver ; currently at 4,422 hits

6. Most kudos: The Thief's Heart (Remy/Pietro fic) ; currently at 214 kudos

7. Most comment thread:  Strength & Weakness (Namor/Pietro fic) ; currently at 46 comments

8. Fave fic you wrote: My favorite fic is always changing and it’s usually the fic I have not finished yet. I like all of my fics but I think the ones I will love most when it’s done is either To find my Soul a Home, or Lighthouse which are both Jim/Namor wips.

9. Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: Currently none, I really don’t like to go back to fics after I post them because I take so long to even finish one and if I don’t know when to say stop, then it never gets finished. So I try to just be ok with whatever I wrote.

10. Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea that you’re planning:

From: To Find my Soul a Home: Jim/Namor fic: This scene takes place in middle of the story, long after Jim and Namor had parted ways. Jim has been buried in the desert by his enemies, which was the explanation of why the OG Human Torch was not around for decades. warnings for angst, mentions of war, and burial:

He is crushing darkness around him. There is something wrong with his body, he is unable to move, unable to cry out, Jim is trapped inside his mind as the sounds of dirt hitting dirt slowly fades away until they stop. They have buried him in some place he does not know, deep under the ground. What did they do to him? He strains to try and move but nothing happens, he can’t even wiggle his fingers. Lips closed so that any words he would have spoken were sealed forever. This can’t be happening, not again, not again! He remembers the last time he was trapped in such a way, when his father- when Horton sealed him in the concrete under the ground because they were all afraid of him.

“I’m sorry my boy… I have to do this for your own good. I f I leave you out here they will destroy you. I will come back soon and set you free, and teach you more about this world. When it’s ready for you. Be good my boy.”

Anger burns in his chest and he can’t feel his body heating but it’s a weak fire smothered by dirt and lack of air. Horton never came back for him, he never returned and Jim had to free himself. Horton would not free him now either. The world had never been ready for the Human Torch, but Jim had demanded they try, he did everything he could to be human and now he can’t even die like one. Trapped in this suspended animation as he hears the men’s boots stamp over the dirt of his grave before muffled sounds of their voices fades away. Was it night now? Did it matter? He was never leaving here, Toro hadn’t even known what happened to him, what would happen to the boy? Would he search for Jim? He couldn’t let himself hope for that. He hopes Toro will move on with his life, he was old enough now that he could make it on his own. Still Jim feels a tear slip down the side of his face, he would never see his son again, never hug him and ruffle his hair and tell him how proud he was, how much he loved him. Toro could be an old man before Jim ever escaped from here.

Time has passed, how much? Jim doesn’t know, he could have been here a few days but it feels longer than that, weeks, months maybe. His body’s functions had been shutting down slowly, he feels his artificial heart slow to just a few beats per minute. His mind is clouded by the memories of the past, like a bad tape it skips around and some scenes run on repeat. If he was human it would be called hallucinating.

“Look at me Pappy!” Toro flames on by himself for the first time without burning any of the surrounding furniture in their tiny home, his fire spark smile is wide as he lifts his arms up in success. Jim folds the newspaper down enough to watch him. “Good job son. I’m proud of you.” Toro grins as he slowly flames down.

Jim wants to smile at the memory but his face is frozen.

“Come on now Jim, you can’t tell me you still hate him? Even after everything you two have been through?”

“Why are you pushing this Betty? I thought you would be happy that whatever Namor and I had was over.”

“I never saw you as my rival Jim, we both love him, but you know what he’s like.”

“I know. I know, but dammit Betty he gets me so mad…”

His partner in the police force, Betty’s face fades away, the tape skipping again as he tries again to move. He panics again, the cycle of screaming in his head, hoping someone will come, despairing when he comes down from this latest panic attack because nothing changes except his heart is a beat slower than before. Knowing that with every moment that passes his body is shutting down and soon he will be for all intents and proposes, dead. Jim had never died before, he knew what it was like to be shut off, a dark sudden black before the light came on again. Is this how humans feel knowing they have an expiration date? Knowing that one day they too will cease to exist?

“You’re too quiet firebug.”

No. No. No. NO. Jim panics again, tries to get his mind to turn over this tape, switch it to a different record, anything. He doesn’t want to see him.

His face is turned away from Jim in the memory, they were somewhere in France on the shore of a beach. It was the war.

“I don’t have anything to say.”

“I find that hard to believe, you’re always quick to voice your mind when it comes to me, how many times have you insulted me in the past?”

“So you came to find me because you missed my insults?”

“Missed you.”

Jim doesn’t reply to that.

“Say something Firebug, it’s too quiet here.”

Jim follows Namor’s gaze and looks out at the sea of dead soldiers that littered the beach. Their eyes blank as the gulls pick at the corpses. He looks down at his feet as the blood soaked wave washes over his boots.

Jim wants to claw out his brain, he wants it to STOP. He hated the war, he wasn’t like Namor, something happened to the Prince during the war. Jim could compartmentalize the trauma, he locked it away and did his best to be a support system for Toro, but Namor felt everything more deeply. He doesn’t want to see anymore, and for the first time Jim begs Horton’s god to let it end. More time passes.

The edges of his vision are blurry now, and each memory that comes is slower than before. He sees Toro again, in the circus doing his act. He sees Steve sitting in a chair in the clock tower, his face in his hands, the tired slump of his shoulders tells Jim that Steve has not slept again. Papers scribbled with art is strewn everywhere. He sees Namor in the rain.

He knows this.

Jim’s mind is finally on its last legs as it begins to shut down the last of his conscious mind. He is in a house and every room has a light on but the lights are being turned off one by one. He doesn’t want to be alone in the dark again.

The rain soaks Namor, plastering his dark hair and making his pointed ears stick out even more, it’s cute. Jim never told him that.

He knows this night.

Jim follows him out into the rain, away from everyone else.

Another light is turned off and Jim doesn’t try to waste the little energy he has left trying to move his body again. He wants to relive this one more time, he wants to hold on for just one moment more-

He and Namor are pressed against each other in their little alcove, the dirt of the trench wall behind him turns to mud. Piercing green eyes, and warm breath fills his senses as Jim clutches the Prince’s wet dark hair and pulls him closer. The war is worlds away as he feels Namor’s lips connect with his in a kiss. Soft and sensual, it is a sharp contrast to the harshness of the world they live in.

He knows this… the last light turns off and Jim is in the dark, the grainy picture in his mind fades and the record skips for the last time.

“Say something Firebug. It’s too quiet here.”

“I love you.”

Jim sleeps. A man forgotten by time and those who loved him.

[thegreymoon]

giuliano de medici?

Obligatory disclaimer here, anon, I’m really not a fan of this show and Giuliano de Medici. I think it’s a terribly written show and he’s a terribly written character, and even though it’s no secret I find Bradley James to be one of the most beautiful people alive, I’m going to go with 

Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | 🤗Pretty🤗 | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY

Mind you, when I say ‘pretty’, I mean so goddamn beautiful I was willing to wade through THREE seasons of utterly infuriating bullshit just for him! (OK, two, because I still haven’t summoned the willpower to sit through season 3 even though I absolutely still plan on doing it 😭😭) I mean, just look at this man’s eyes: 

He’s so gorgeous, I could weep 😭

Also, I’m not going to pretend even for a second that the fact that the costumes gave off such strong Arthur vibes didn’t have anything to do with me sitting through this nonsense and almost enjoying it. When he said ‘I don’t have time for this,’ in this very scene, I got hit over the head with so much deja vu, because it is Arhur’s line, and it was totally Arthur’s delivery! His battle scenes gave me life, but why were they so short? Why was there not more? Why does everything about this shitty show have to be so goddamn unsatisfying? Did the Medici producers not see Merlin season 5? Did they not see what this man can do? Such a wasted opportunity, oh my fucking God! 

Anyway, rant incoming: 

Mind you, I don’t blame Bradley for the unsatisfactory mess Giuliano turned out to be, he did the best he could with the nothing he was given. Only Lorenzo got some semi-decent writing (and even this was not consistent), but Giuliano got such nonsense story arcs, I was sitting there not believing my eyes and ears! I’ve seen gutter trash soap operas with more believable cliche romance! Hell, I’ve seen twelve-year-old girls write better self-insert fanfiction! Even cartoons have better villains than that caricature of a husband, I was laughing out loud at what they were trying to get us to swallow! I mean that line, “It’s not the mask that attracts me, it’s what lies beneath it,” OMG, YOU’VE SEEN HER TWICE IN YOUR LIFE AND SPOKEN THREE WORDS TO HER, JUST SHUT UP!! 😣😫😭

It never gets better, unfortunately, and they wasted the character on this laughable romance instead of doing just about anything else with Giuliano! More of his relationship with Lorenzo, with Bianca, with Lucrezia, or even with Francesco! Hell, I would have even taken Sandro (even though the guy playing him can’t act to save his life and the character is beyond annoying)! Or, I don’t know, and this is just a radical idea here, they could have made Simonetta less two-dimensional and given us an actually believable romantic sub-plot with properly developed characters!

Oh, Gwen, how I missed you! I was forced to eat my words on each and every criticism I ever made about how poorly Arwen was written on Merlin, because it was perfect, perfect writing in comparison! So good, it could be taught in a literature master class! Oh my God, just how do you take two such beautiful people like Bradley and Matilda, put them together and end up with something so infuriatingly nonsensical, forgettable and bland? Colin Morgan has spoiled me and I confess that there was a moment in all my frustration where I had an ugly thought that Bradley James just has no chemistry with women on screen at all, but that’s not really true, because even at it’s worst, Arwen was never this bad and there was never a time when he and Angel actually made me roll my eyes at some of the worst pieces of dialogue I’ve ever heard. Then, of course, there was his performance with Barbara Hershey in Damien, which was on a whole another level of intense, so I have to conclude that the reason Giuliano and Simonetta and that whole ridiculous subplot were so terrible is because the writers could not write for shit. 

Also, as much as I love Bradley, I feel like he was tragically miscast in this role. I just didn’t buy him as Daniel’s younger brother at all. Not only is Bradley older IRL, he has the older brother vibes as well. It’s in his voice, his posture. Better writing for Giuliano notwithstanding, I feel like this show could have been vastly improved if Bradley and Daniel had switched roles. Again, did none of these people see Merlin? Did they not see how iconic Arthur was and what Bradley can do? Because, damn, that man has presence when you give him the proper material to work with, and they took advantage of none of it! I like Daniel, I really do, but even though he was given the best material on this show, he just didn’t fully deliver and I have yet to see him in anything where I am impressed by his performance and not just sitting there for his pretty face.

And since this has devolved into a looooooooong post that no longer has anything to do with the hotness of Giuliano de Medici, let me just mention him: 

Who is this guy and how do I get more of him, because, OMG!  😍🔥🔥🔥😍

He has the most fascinating face I’ve seen in a while, and the way he moves and carries himself is mesmerising! He deserved better-written villainy than what he was given! This show truly did not deserve its cast! Francesco Pazzi was so terribly written, it’s laughable, and yet, here was this guy, stealing the show left and right, in spite of the shit material he was given to work with! Somebody please cast him in something more worthy (preferably in English, or at the very least with English subtitles so that I can watch)! 😭😭

The thing that infuriates me about this series is that they had some fantastic actors here that totally deserved better, such a fascinating period to work with and some of the most interesting figures in history and they spent all their time and money on making them as cliche, two-dimensional, cartoonish and bland as possible.  

Also, I can’t end this post without mentioning how much I loved Sarah Parish as Lucrezia! The woman is perfect, OMG! 😍 The wives, in general, were too good for their husbands in both the seasons I watched so far. The mistresses can go choke, though, and I hated how much they tried to white-wash adultery all over the place. In addition to the poor writing, this show sent out some really gross messages and did nothing to call out all the misogynistic tripe. 

I must exclude Simonetta from my mistress-hate because she died a horrible death, and frankly, other than that, there was not much there for me to perceive her as a real character anyway. I wanted to like her so much because I saw the gifs on Tumblr before actually watching the show, but the writers gave me absolutely nothing to work with and in the end, all I was left with was that she died all alone and with no help or comfort, sick, cold and thirsty, which is one of my big personal fears. The fact that the writers did this to her for no logical reason but to play up Sandro’s and Giuliano’s selfish man-pain - after I really did not buy either of them actually loving her - was just an additional disgusting layer on this poorly written story arc. She deserved better. 

In conclusion, if it wasn’t for Bradley James being pretty, I would have quit this rubbish halfway through season 1 (if anyone is interested in reading just how much I hated it, you can find all my bile here). Season 2 was just as bad, but Bradley, Daniel and Matteo made intolerable characters bearable, which was something Richard Madden was unable to pull off. Of course, all my pure love goes to Contessina, Lucrezia and Clarice, because they were the only characters that I genuinely enjoyed in this mess and didn’t just put up with because I liked the people playing them.

[i-got-that-fandom-kinda-love]

A to Z favourite TV show challenge! Or # to Z?

# - 30 Rock (Liz Lemmon! This is just all kinds of hilarity).

A - Ally McBeal (there's not enough of this on Tumblr btw. I loved it before I understood it - my brother watched and I followed. And then I watched again and I loved it more) / Arrow (so years ago I started watching this because of Tumblr. You guys were obsessed with Olicity and I was too even though I hadn't watched the show. So I watched it. Thank you for ruining my life btw) / Accidentally in Love (Asian Series, sup, @netflix - thanks for getting me addicted to Asian series - I liked them before but now it's just there and begging to be watched AND I CAN'T HELP MYSELF - YOU'VE ADDICTED MY MOTHER TOO).

B - Brooklyn Nine Nine (best thing to happen to me, thank you Tumblr - the nine nine fandom. Also started it a couple years ago and fell in love hard. This show makes me laugh no matter what and it's pure and I love it so much. It's really a show I needed because when I watch series I get really emotionally involved and certain shows leave me so stressed that I have to take a break and all I can watch is comedies for a few weeks. Or months. Depends on how big my heart break was. B99 always makes me laugh and feel lighter). / Buffy the Vampire Slayer (another one from my childhood, you know when you're too young to really understand but old enough to remember it? So yeah, my brother got me hooked at a young age and the addiction stuck. Because I've never been able to forget Buffy. And I've recently been rewatching it with my mother - she too is a bit addicted).

C - Charmed (Original series, not reboot - I haven't even watched the reboot. But yes, Charmed. I remember being up til 10PM on a Monday while I was in primary (middle) school just to watch it. Halliwell sisters are another drug I never could kick - Leo was one of my first ever crushes - my very first crush was Shahrukh Khan and if we're ever talking Bollywood movies he'll be all over that post).

D - Doctor Who (Okay! I only started watching from season 5, again cos NETFLIX - the Doctor and Amy Pond - man, just lock me up in the TARDIS and take me away already. ALSO one of the series that broke my heart enough that rendered me incapable of watching any other series except comedy).

E - Ek Hazaroon Mein Meri Behna Hai (Hindi series; my sister is one in a thousand - I assume it's the name because that sounds better in Hindi than one in a million or billion. There's something about Hindi series that sucks you in and tortures you until you're on the brick of exploding from suspense - the build up is both infuriating and renders you unable to tear your eyes away).

F - Friends ('Cause it's been there for me and how can I not? Again, childhood. Also. Heroes get remembered but legends never die. And I've watched every episode like a gazillion times and laugh just the same - I think even more 'cause I know what's gonna happen. I'm one of those people). / Fairy Tail (Anime. Magic. Friendship. Friendship. Friendship. It's one of those rare shows that has a lot of characters and manages to make you love each one of them. I found it after high school but I love it to bits).

G - Gilmore Girls (I remember the first time I watched this as a kid, Rory and Lorelei were sitting at Luke's diner and chatting about something and I though they were sisters. I was at my cousin's house and I just couldn't stop watching them. Loved it ever since. And it's strange how a randomly watching TV can just change your life - 'cause you know, I obsess) / Gossip Girl (at first, I'd watched it because Kristen Bell was the voice of Gossip Girl. And I needed anything related to anything Veronica Mars. And then I naturally loved it like everybody else. Also disappointed at who GG really was. So yeah.)

H - How I Met Your Mother (At first I really, really loved it, now though it's not so high on my favourite list but it does still make me laugh - cos Barney. The final episode was so disappointing). / Hannah Montana (because if I was 13 or 16 this would have made the list. And I still love the show. My heart swells everytime my bestie sings True Friend to me. I still love Hannah Montana music okay).

I - iZombie (Rob Thomas. He's the reason I tried it out. Liv is the reason I stayed. Also Ravi. And also Major. Okay, dude, characters and plot is right on point) / Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon (Hindi series; what name do I give to this love? Its unnecessarily complicated but gosh those complications kept me on edge, staring at the screen, waiting for those idiots to realise the truth. Opposites attract. Hate to love to hate to love. They did it so well).

J - Joan of Arcadia (okay so I remember really loving this when I was younger - I haven't rewatched it as an adult but I feel like I'll still love it. I mean, come on, what if God was one of us?)

K - Kim Possible (Call me, beep me, if you wanna reach me? Ultimate cartoon. Hands down. Second best is The Life and Times of Juniper Lee - she's basically the cartoon Buffy - the Chosen One - though it's hereditary instead of random? And also more fun and less heartache 'cause it's a cartoon).

L - Lucifer (Man, Lucifer. You got the guy telling everyone he's the devil and they think he's talking in metaphors? It's just hilarious to me. Detective. Romance. Snark. Supernatural. Also, Hello, Adult Tom Welling - can I even describe how excited I was to see him? Smallville, man).

M - Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir (One of the few new cartoons that I watch and love. This is just so cute and the love square is just so cute and everything is just so cute. And like we need cute stuff in our lives. Frustrating cos how oblivious can one be but also why you so cute Marinette Dupain Chang and Adrian Agreste aka Ladybug and Cat Noir)/ Malcolm in the Middle (Childhood. Childhood. Childhood. I'm not the middle child but I relate).

N - Naruto (Anime. Okay, childhood yes, also teenagehood and adulthood. Guy's been with me through everything, believe it. This show just means so much to me and I'm thankful that I got to grow up with him. Thank you, Kishimoto).

O - One Day At a Time (THANK YOU, NETFLIX! This is just one of the greatest shows on right now. I love comedy. I didn't expect it to be so emotional too. But damn it gets you right in the feels. My brother claims I'm exactly like Elena and our nephew is like Alex. I honestly don't mind. Elena is badass and strong as hell.)

P - Psych (It's just awesome? It's clever, it's funny, Shawn and Gus. The dramatics in extremely serious situations will never not make grin like a mad woman. Also private investigation shows seem to a weakness of mine. ) / Parks and Recreation (okay I never thought I'd like a mockumentary kind of series but this happened and proved me wrong and I just love this show and it's characters). / Pyaar Ka Dard Hai Meetha Meetha Pyara Pyara (Hindi Series; the pain of love is sweet and loveable. When your parents set you up with someone and you're like no way in hell and they're like okay but they you become best friends and fall in love and yeah. The name says it all, really). / Pinocchio (Asian series - one of the more complicated ones but I simply just loved these characters and actors to bits after watching it).

Q - Quantico (it's not really one of my favourites but I couldn't think of anything else and I do enjoy it. Priyanka Chopra has always been a fav since forever - Bollywood was life before I was even old enough to understand English - but it's because of this that I can understand Hindi without needing subtitles).

R - Rizzoli & Isles (who wouldn't love a show with two best friends kicking ass in the work place). / Revenge (I watched it cos I liked Emily from Everwood but the story was so intriguing and I just got addicted. It wasn't like anything I've ever seen). / Refresh Man (Asian series - officially my favourite Asian series of all time - again, thank you Netflix. Also ever since I've loved both Aaron Yan and Joanna Tseng and I'm on a mission to watch everything they've ever acted in - do you see my obsessing tenancies?).

S - Supergirl / Supernatural / Suits / Smallville (Okay! There's too many shows that start with an S. Smallville was my gateway into the superhero show - movie - comic obsession. And also I'm getting tired of commenting on everything).

T - The Good Place / The Office (US) / The Flash/ Teen Wolf (also too many with a T!)

U - Ugly Betty

V - Veronica Mars (of all time!! Man, again, random TV viewing = life changing TV show that sticks with you forever and Veronica Mars has definitely affected me way more than any other show. I couldn't get it out of my head ever since 2007! I waited for every Thursday just to watch it and naturally Thursday became my favourite day of the week - not Friday like normal scholars - nope. I think it's the way that it ended that contributed to my obsession - so much questions left unanswered and to a 12 year old girl the most important thing is of course that LoVe hadn't officially gotten back together. My mind wrote and rewrote endings and scenarios. Then I discovered fanfiction. And then I started writing. Veronica Mars made me a junkie but also helped me discover my passion. It's not just the show that makes it my #1 but the journey it's taken me on while it was on air and especially when it was off air. ALSO THE SHOW IS SIMPLY AMAZING EVEN WITHOUT ALL MY EMOTIONAL ATTACHMENT - also one of the shows that I started watching and then my brother got hooked onto it).

W - What's Wrong With Secretary Kim? / Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok Joo/ W: two worlds apart (all Asian series - OKAY, NETFLIX IS BLAMED FOR ALL OF THIS)

X - Is there anything but X-Men? I wouldn't really put the series on my favourite list but I do watch the X-Men cartoons and I have enjoyed it so imma let it be.

Y - Young Sheldon (Too smart for his own good Cooper.) / Yankee-kun to Megane-chan (Asian series - okay, this one can't be put on Netflix. It's the first Asian drama series I'd watched because of a manga that I loved).

Z - Zoey101 ('Cause there's nothing else I can think off and I enjoyed it when I was younger. I remember putting 101 after all of my usernames for everything).

So when I thought of this I thought I'd put one name for each alphabet but it didn't work out that way 'cause I obsess over everything.

I would love to get to know more about everyone's favourite shows. I'm tagging based on the Tumblr likes thing (also on my @marshmallowatheart account) and also urls I remember seeing often on the activity cos I wanted to tag as much people as possible. I'd have been cool if I could have went with the a - z for tagging but it's not working out like I wanted so next best. (Also if I didn't tag you and you wanna do it, please go for it, I'm really into this).

Anyone who wants to do this can and whoever doesn't want to it's cool! It takes time to think especially when you have to pick between things so if you want to, add as many as you like. You don't have to add comments on it if you don't want to, I just got carried away! And then got tired.

@poppy-in-the-woods @risssaar @stephaniecatlover @ihaveathingformeninwaistcoats @write-to-feel @mediocre-mee @jenilyn2000 @lalacristina18 @cainc3 @mrskissytaylor @anilcadz91 @elliebear75 @troublescout @hanitjemars @susanmichelin @cheshirecatstrut @firedragonmon

[dorkyungsoowrites]

Fatal Ties Ch. 5

Pairings: Baekhyun x You, Kyungsoo x You

Genre: Angst/Smut/Fluff | Mafia AU

Warnings: Dom/Sub play, sexual abuse

Word Count: 5.8k

Description: Baekhyun can't just listen anymore.

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | The Ending |

Returning to the manor that night, you leaned your head against the car window and tried to get some rest. The negotiations had lasted much longer than you anticipated, but you were able to get most of what you wanted. You were unable to sleep however, due to the fact your driver and Baekhyun were getting along famously. Chatting and laughing loudly. You were tempted to threaten Chanyeol to shut up, but decided against it. At least if they were friends Baekhyun wouldn't pester you at all hours while you worked. You could endure a few obnoxious car rides for that.

After arriving back home you began ascending the stairs immediately. Baekhyun jogging up behind you.

"I was good right?" You marveled at his endless energy. It was quite amazing actually. He was also well behaved. There was multiple opportunities for him to expose your dirty little secret, but he didn't. Then again he could've easily told his family earlier in the day about your affair. But then the meeting would definitely not have gone your way. His father would've mentioned at least one thinly veiled threat to whoever you were fucking. Gain leverage over you by using someone you cared about. Telling them after the meeting was almost pointless because his family would be too late to do anything about it. They couldn't use the information effectively. So what was Baekhyun's game? What did he gain from spying on you without telling anyone? How were you supposed to play a game when there was no goal?

The only way to find out was to try.

Once you were up the stairs you made him wait until you were in front of your bedroom door. He stood in front of you. Summoning another scrap of energy you pinched the lapel of his jacket and slid down to the buttons over his stomach. Lowering your voice.

"You were a very good boy." Baekhyun visibly shuddered and leaned closer.

"What's the reward?"

"Patience Baekhyunnie. I'm thinking." It was a lie. You'd already thought of something in the car, but you were having fun playing with him. Your new pet. If it was possible he was even more focused on you. Every fiber of him hanging on your words and actions. If he was a cartoon he'd be drooling with hearts for pupils.

"You called me Baekhyunnie when you weren't acting," he breathed in amazement. You let a very careful, petite smile slip.

"Possibly."

"I think I'm in love with you."

"You're just a puppy," you laughed to hide your shock. It was kind of cute how infatuated he had become in such a short time. A day and a half. Though it was a pity you knew it wasn't genuine. Baekhyun was a very good actor.

Then he surprised you by grabbing your hips. Asserting himself. Showing he wasn't afraid of you even after the tea incident. He pulled you flush with his front. His face much closer. He smelled like the dinner you ate and the kind of manufactured clean that came from cologne. If he was fast enough he might even be able to kiss you.

"Would a puppy be able to make you nervous like this?" You quirked an eyebrow and smirked. Intrigued but disbelieving.

"Nervous?" His eyes softened. Fingers slowly inching down. Head tilting some.

"You have no idea what I'll do next. You can't control me like all your other lackeys. And that makes you nervous." His hands formed around your backside. Right over where Kyungsoo's hands had been. Where bruises shaped like his palm still marked you. You felt your heart rate increase as his light touch skimmed over the curve of your ass. Much too delicate for a lecherous man like him. Baekhyun leaned closer. Your eyes crossing slightly to remain focused on his face. "It makes you want me."

"You think you can read me so easily?"

"I know I can. Just like you know I could have spilled your little secret tonight." His palms went up to the small of your back. If someone were to walk in it might look like a lovers embrace. "Bet you didn't expect that from me, huh?"

"Did you want a reward from me that badly? You betrayed your family." Betray was a strong word, but he had failed to do his job. He had willfully denied them the information he gathered on you. To your eyes that would mean betrayal. A heavy crime against his parents. If they found out he held out on them...you're not sure they would honor the peace contract. They were a merciless group. You don't do what they do without an extreme disconnect from other human lives. It didn't seem like he was too cozy with his father at dinner. They might disavow Baekhyun and try to assassinate you both.

"I wanted your trust more," he admitted in a whisper. Still smiling although the corners of his mouth held more tension. Waiting with bated breath. Waiting for your approval. Your assurance he did the right thing. It was dangerous, what he did. It was reckless and stupid. You shook your head, trying to understand. There had to be some ulterior, selfish motive.

"What's in it for you? Do you have a death wish?"

"Do I have to answer that?"

"You're senseless."

"My feelings for you are the one thing that's made perfect sense in a long time."

"You've known me a day," you replied, furrowing your brows. "You can't possibly be serious."

"Then let me put it this way," he spoke softly. Voice lilting like a dream. Brown eyes warm and sparkling. "I like things that are beautiful and strong. I like things that are dangerous and exciting. Why are you so offended then, that I like you?" You had to tell yourself to keep breathing. The sincerity in his eyes, his smile, his everything...

Suddenly his proximity was too much for you to handle. Pushing on his chest lightly. You needed space. This conversation had become much too close to real. He let go of you as you stepped back. Almost as if you were afraid. Being cornered. But you weren't. No. This clenching of your heart wasn't fear. It couldn't be. You couldn't be afraid of Baekhyun, but you didn't want to think about what it could have actually been. So you told yourself you didn't feel anything. Swallowing your emotions down past the lump in your throat. Dulling your eyes. Steadying yourself. Voice flat and unwavering.

"I think that's enough games for tonight." Baekhyun's face twisted in confusion.

"Games?" Then the realization hit him. You hadn't stopped acting since the meeting. Hurt crossed his features. Smile falling. Eyebrows pulling up and together. "So you've just been playing nice with me all night? Like I-I'm just some pet for you to toy around with? Is that it? I'm just some fucking bitch whining for attention? Am I even a person to you?"

"Kyungsoo, I think Baekhyun needs to go to sleep, and make sure he doesn't leave his kennel this time." With that you turned and went in your room. Not staying to see his reaction. A minute of yelling and struggling later the door to his room beside yours slammed shut. You peeled your clothes off, leaving them on the floor lazily. As you pulled an oversized shirt on you heard something. A small noise. You crawled up to your headboard and listened in. It was Baekhyun. Cursing and smashing every breakable thing in his bedroom. Probably even the things not so easily broken were being chucked at the wall between your rooms and all over it seemed like, although muffled greatly. So faint yet he must have been straining for you to hear it. It wasn't like you had thin walls. Made spying too easy. You sighed and texted Kyungsoo.

"Before you hang up the bodyguard thing for the night can you get Baekhyun to shut up?" Send. Moments later you received his reply.

"Do you need anything else tonight?" You smiled fondly at your phone, thumb stroking the side of the case. The invitation was there. Could you afford to accept? Your smile weakened. No. No you couldn't.

"Still have work. Enjoy your night, Kyungsoo."

"What if I need something?" He was really tempting you more than normal. You glanced at the laptop you had waiting for you on the nightstand to do extra preparations. It was important to get them done, but god did you want to relax after those negotiations. And you knew he would help. Your fingers hesitated over the keyboard before typing.

"Then I guess you'll need to bring that up with me once Baekhyun is taken care of."

"Yes boss." The pool deep in your stomach came to life, biting your lip.

Laying on the bed, you waited. A minute later the crashing stopped. You were surprised, however, when the door to your bedroom opened seconds after the silence. Eyes flicking to the door, you saw Kyungsoo come in and turn the lock behind him. He stepped out of his shoes and shrugged the jacket off his shoulders to the floor. Then his gun holster clattered to the floor. Leaving him in a button down and slacks. His gaze met yours and you knew you were in for a good night. Kyungsoo walked to the edge of your bed and smirked. You sat up and swung your legs around so his hips were in between.

"I had some immediate concerns to discuss with you," he spoke lowly. "I hope you don't mind me giving the Baekhyun request to another guard."

"Not at all."

"Good." One of his hands reached out, fingers sliding along your jaw until he was able to cup your face. You leaned back and he followed until you were laying down, him hovering over you. His head dipped down, plush lips pressing lightly to the side of your throat. Then again, longer that time. Your eyes drifted closed, enjoying the sensation. "The meeting tonight went longer than planned." His voice vibrated along your skin, making you shudder. "You were so amazing to listen to. Talking circles around everyone."

"That's the concern you needed to speak to me for?" you chuckled. "Flirting?" The hand on your jaw went down until it could hold your breast. His tongue joining the slow assault on your neck. Breaking to speak next to your ear between kisses.

"I love watching you work. But you need help after something like that. I knew you would try to keep working. Staying up all night. I can't have that."

"Do you care about me or something?" you teased.

"You've been under so much stress lately." His fingers began lightly toying with your nipple, drawing a small gasp from you. "That worthless fiance of yours can't help." So that's what this was really about. He was jealous you'd played nice couple with Baekhyun. "He could never know you like I do. Take care of you like I do."

"Is that so?" He hummed an affirmative.

"Stay still and let me prove it to you." Kyungsoo's hands slipped your shirt up easily, tossing it to the floor. Leaving you bare. Then he sunk to his knees. Your legs were pushed wider apart before his tongue met your center and you gasped, fingers searching out the sheets to ground you. His mouth was something magical. Licking and sucking and turning your mind to mush. He held your hips down with a bruising grip. Then his tongue dipped down and lapped at your inner walls. The lewd, wet noises as he drank up your arousal spiking you higher into the atmosphere. You let your worries drain from your mind, moaning louder than before. Kyungsoo switched to circle your clit once before encasing it with his lips, adding that sweet suction as he flicked it lightly. The heat of his mouth spread the sensations. You keened and writhed, pleasure lighting up your body starting where his mouth was. Muscles trembling. The tightness in your gut warned you this wasn't going to last long. And when Kyungsoo moaned the vibrations shook the core of your being and you called out.

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum," you choked out. The words tight and tumbling from you in a string you couldn't stop. Your back began arching, searching for a way to break free from his hands and grind on his face. There wasn't enough hair on his head to grab. You had to rely on your hips, but he kept them trapped on the edge of the mattress. He paused to lick one long stripe before kissing your lower stomach. Peering up at you through his eyelashes. You knew the routine. He wanted begging. So that's what you would do. You would be his perfect little submissive that begs for their owner. "K-Kyungsoo, please, don't stop. Don't stop. You're right. You're always right I fucking need you please."

"What am I right about?"

"You...only you know me this well. I'm yours, I promise. I promise never to sleep with Baekhyun, is that what you want to hear? It's never crossed my mind I swear--"

"And it better stay that way," he interrupted. "Now tell me you're my pretty little fuck toy." You didn't expect him to be so possessive of you. Months of stolen moments had affected him more than you it seemed. The sudden embarrassment made your cheeks burn. It was one thing to have him say it, and another for it to come out of your own mouth. Kyungsoo decided you needed encouragement and lowered back down, tongue languorously exploring your folds. The methodical, gentle way he touched you only intensifying the heat on your face. Suddenly it was too intimate. Too slow. Your thighs twitched and your clit throbbed for more stimulation. It angered you that you felt any embarrassment at all. You were a ruthless, regretless, successful mafia boss and you were brought down by some mans mouth on your cunt? Fucking pathetic. You were stronger than that stupid emotion. And you had no shame.

"I'm your pretty little fuck toy." Once the words hit the air the tension was released and you sighed. Kyungsoo smirked against you.

"Who's pussy is this?"

"Yours."

"What is?" he taunted.

"This is your pussy, Kyungsoo." Now the words flowed easier. The heat died down from your cheeks. He scraped his teeth carefully over your sensitive clit and moaned softly. There could have been a major shoot-out right outside your door and you wouldn't know. All you could do was shudder and groan and let your mind go blank. The wave of dizziness was too much. So you let your shamelessness continue. "Please let me cum. It feels so fucking good. I need you so much."

"Shut up." Maybe that sounded harsh to outsiders, but it made you smile. He had accepted your pleas. Then his lips were around your clit and his tongue was moving in quick, precise movements. You jolted, crying out and arching off the bed. You picked up right where you were before, muscles tight. Just a little further. You could taste your end. It was right there. And then you thought about how he was going to fuck you so hard the bed moved after you finished, and your orgasm washed over you. Violent, satisfying waves clearing your head better than any drug. Kyungsoo backed away before you could be brought down properly and stood straight while he wiped around his mouth. You forced yourself to sit up, head light, reaching for the button on his slacks, but he grabbed your hand. "What are you doing?" You gazed up at his face curiously.

"Aren't you going to fuck me now?"

"Is that what you want?" You froze. He'd never asked what you wanted before. He took what he wanted from you and you gave willingly. You kept your features as neutral as possible when replying,

"I always want you." Kyungsoo huffed out a weak laugh and grinned. There was an unreadable twinkle in his eyes. He pushed your hand away from his pants. Instead his own nimble fingers were undoing them and you laid back down, legs open wide and waiting for his body to fill the gap.

"Not like that, kitten. On your side." You rolled over on your right side while Kyungsoo removed the rest of his clothing. You lifted one leg to go over his right thigh while he straddled your other leg. He slipped inside you smoothly. Already hard from going down on you. The different angle he entered you as he began rocking in and out made you whimper. "Is that good, pet?" You nodded and grappled at the sheets.

"Harder, please." He pushed on your shoulder to twist your upper body toward him then used it as leverage to thrust into you harder. Unhurried yet the heat between you stayed the same.

"Look at me," he ordered gruffly. Your eyes snapped to him and you bit your lip roughly. "Is this what you want? You want me to fuck you harder?"

"Anything, fuck," you groaned. "I just love your cock, Kyungsoo. I love how you fuck me."

"Fuck that's exactly what I knew you'd say," he mumbled. "You're so good for me. Now not another word." Kyungsoo stopped to pull out and you whined. Though you supposed it was because he didn't like the position as much as he thought he would. He gripped you and jerked your body to lay on your back properly so your head was by the pillows. Like you weighed nothing to him. Just his pathetic, needy little plaything. He pushed your knees towards your chest and thrust back inside of you, not waiting before setting a pace that was hard and fast. His fingers were digging too much into your thighs, bruising them. He hunched over, readjusting his hands, and you called out as the pain lanced up your legs. Kyungsoo didn't care. It was his turn to use you. You would lay there and take whatever he gave you like the good toy you were. His toy.

Kyungsoo grunted and screwed his eyes shut. Your legs were placed on his shoulders before his hands went to hold you, trembling fingers digging into your skin. He buried his face in your neck, pushing himself to go faster. Panting and whimpering by your ear. Breath hot on your skin. The headboard rattled and hit the wall every few times he buried himself in you. Your core burned with the force he was using. This wasn't pleasure anymore. He had lost himself. Some conflict keeping him from finishing yet determined to keep going. He was frustrated. You heard it in his low, quaking breaths. You felt it in the urgency of his thrusts. The tenseness of his muscles. He wasn't with you. He was somewhere else, desperately clinging for any thought that would let him release all of this undirected hatred. And you were okay with that. Because he was using you. That was the arrangement you had. He'd never abused that power before, so you would help by letting him work out his frustration. By helping him cum.

You did your best to contain your screams. Pain welling in your eyes. You let go of the sheets with one hand to go to the back of his head, cradling the base of his skull. The shaved hairs damp with sweat. Kyungsoo's voice cracked as he mewled, drawing it out in a odd mixture of erotic and painful. His thrusts almost completely stopped. Holding himself back. Continuing at a much slower pace, his hips slammed into you roughly, and your breath hitched. The burn was still there, but it wasn't constant. It still felt good to be filled. It was still Kyungsoo. His nails scratched down your sides, writhing so his hips ground in a circle and you lost your goddamn mind. Moan piercing the air. His cock twitching and brushing different parts inside of you. As he slid out one of his hands went to your ass. Squeezing the soft flesh and reigniting the dull stinging from the healing bruises. As he snapped his hips forward, burning your insides in a quick flash, wincing before he had filled you again you found your thoughts drifting to Baekhyun. Would he treat you this way? Would he grab your backside and fuck you past the point of soreness? Insatiable in his need to have you. Or would he be more like in the hallway; hands and words making you shiver. Driving the anticipation of the act to a point where when you came you'd see stars. A subtle, gentle way of taking you.

You opened your eyes and chased the image of Baekhyun's hands on you from your mind. It didn't matter. Those were useless thoughts. You were supposed to be focusing on the man on top of you currently. Not fantasizing about a man you had no intention of ever sleeping with. You kept yourself in the present by feeling his hair under your fingers. Other hand going to his bicep. Feeling the friction of his body as he moved on top of you. Smothered you. Listening to the connection of skin, his quivering breaths. Staring at the ceiling while tears gathered in your eyes. Your legs were then shoved down around his waist. Your straining muscles thanked him. Your hand sliding up his arm to his back so you could also feel the flexing and movement of muscles as he continued. His hands running up your body then clenching the bedsheets on either side of you. Kyungsoo's lips pressed to your shoulder. Then your collarbone. Working lazy, fat kisses down until he had your breast in his mouth. Sucking and biting harshly. Your cunt throbbed with need, but his brutal treatment kept the pain just over the pleasure.

"P-please," you whined. Kyungsoo stopped all movement suddenly. He hovered above you, gaze dark and piercing.

"That was a mistake, kitten." You cursed yourself. No talking. You had been so good before. Baekhyun distracted you, swirling your thoughts. Your arms were shoved above your head, pinning your wrists together with one of Kyungsoo's hands. The other came over your mouth. Then he was back to fucking you like you weren't even a person. Yet his focus was on your face. The headboard thunking against the wall rhythmically. You couldn't decipher anything while your lower half was on fire. Everything between your legs burning. He was ripping you open. It hurt. It hurt almost as much as the time you were shot. It was too much. You screamed, voice tearing at your throat, the sound muffled by his fingers. Tears falling from the corners of your eyes. Kyungsoo closed his eyes like he couldn't stomach seeing you in pain. But he didn't stop. Fingertips digging into your jaw and cheek along with the heel of his palm as he tried to silence you. Voice shaking as he muttered, "almost there. Almost there." You screamed again. Tightening your legs around his waist as your muscles clenched and trembled in pain. Trying in vain to stop the pistoning of his hips. But he was too strong. More tears leaked from your eyes. Is this what it was like to feel helpless?

After what seemed like an eternity Kyungsoo's voice hitched as he groaned, releasing inside of you. He pulled away from you almost immediately after he finished. Hands and warmth retreating from you. You whimpered as you moved to close your legs. Arms coming down as you fought through the sting. Wiping away the wetness from your face. Kyungsoo was petrified in front of you. Guilt and horror and disgust mingled on his features. He was containing his panic but unable to make himself move. And you saw it; the blood on his softening member. Your blood. Your arousal had gone away and the friction was too much for the delicate skin. That's why your core was still pulsating. Pain spreading and lancing up your lower back. He met your gaze, still panting to catch his breath. Chest heaving. Pupils shaking. Manic.

That's when you heard it. The screaming and crashing from next door had started back up. Except this time you could make out actual words. Like Baekhyun was closer. Maybe even the hallway.

"Let go of me bastards! This is an emergency!" Kyungsoo snapped out of his trance. He stumbled to his feet and rushed to dress. Hands shaking as he buttoned his shirt.

"I'm not dyin' just cause you're paranoid!" one of your guards shouted. Struggling to keep your fiance in his room you suspected.

"I'll kill him! I'll fucking kill him!" That got your full attention. Baekhyun had never killed before. Not that he told you of anyway. To threaten that; it must be something serious. You jolted upright, wincing at the pain between your legs. Standing up anyways and reaching for your suit from earlier littered on the ground. Ignoring the fluid leaking from between your thighs. If it was an emergency then you could spare ruining one pair of pants. Kyungsoo threw his holster on just as you finished buttoning your shirt. Coming over to help pull your pants on. Being extra careful like he'd be burned if he touched you. Once you both had the essentials Kyungsoo drew his gun and flung the door open. You bit the inside of your cheek to mask the pain as you came out of the bedroom behind him.

The scene in front of you was almost comical. Baekhyun trying to squeeze between two large security guards. His hand squishing one of their faces, pushing off with his tippy toes. Face boiling red with rage and...he was in only his underwear. His plain white boxers clinging low on his hips. You didn't take much time to observe more, voice commanding and dangerous.

"What's going on here?" Your glare met the guards and Baekhyun stopped squirming. They let him go. The one whose face your fiance was just squishing answered.

"S-sorry to disturb you boss. He was trying to get in your room."

"Because it was an emergency!" he defended heatedly.

"Is it still an emergency?" Your coldness confused him. Taking a couple steps forward. Kyungsoo bristled, shifting forward, raising his weapon slightly. The metal clicking as he switched off the safety. Ready to prevent an attack. You raised your hand toward him and motioned limply. Telling him to stand down. Baekhyun was many things, but he wasn't violent by nature. Kyungsoo obeyed and stored his gun away safely. Baekhyun took it as his green light and came in front of you. Holding your arms. Eyes sweeping up and down like he was inspecting for injury. The redness was draining from his face. Then suddenly he embraced you. Arms hugging around you, lips by your ear.

"Are you hurt badly?" he whispered brokenly. "Please be honest. Did Kyungsoo hurt you?"

"A bug," you realized aloud. Eyes wide. Baekhyun had planted a bug in your bedroom. That's how he knew about the affair. It wasn't music he had been listening to while wandering around the night before. It was Kyungsoo fucking you. Talking to you. He heard everything. That's also why he didn't know the name of who you were with until then. He couldn't see, only hear. Kyungsoo had never spoken around Baekhyun so he didn't connect the dots...until tonight when you said his name. Baekhyun pulled back to see your face. Hands sliding up to your cheeks.

"Please, jagi." At the endearment your gaze snapped to him. You were frazzled and still in pain, but you couldn't have this conversation out in the open. After shoving his hands away you spoke over his shoulder at the guards.

"It's alright. I'll speak with him in my room for a bit. When he comes out throw him in his room again." You roughly shoved Baekhyun's shoulder, turning him. Then his back so he stumbled forward into your bedroom. Kyungsoo followed after you, shutting the door behind him. Standing ready. Ready to either jump in if things got out of control, or to stop Baekhyun from leaving if you decided he needed punishment. Baekhyun looked around at the scene before him. Back facing you. Your underwear and night shirt on the floor, bedsheets crumpled and messy, Kyungsoo's shoes and blazer kicked off to the side.

"Make him leave," Baekhyun demanded lowly. Voice trembling in anger. Fists clenched by his sides. You tucked your hands in your pockets and leaned your weight on one foot casually.

"You don't give the orders around here."

"That's why I'm warning you to get that bastard out of here before I--"

"Before you what?" Kyungsoo interrupted. "Wink at me?" His voice carried much better in the room. An unspoken threat under his tongue. He knew he was stronger than your fiance. Better trained. If it came to threats and fighting Kyungsoo could follow through in a heartbeat. Baekhyun whipped around and jabbed a finger in his direction.

"You're lucky you have them protecting you or you would be dead before sunrise." Kyungsoo smirked at his weak attempt at intimidation. You needed to diffuse the situation, however, before Baekhyun got more than a few stitches in his head. Your deal depended on his health and cooperation. You couldn't let any harm come to him.

"Baekhyun," you cooed sweetly. His glare softened the moment he looked at you, hands relaxing. "Why don't you give me a good reason? Why should I trust that you won't try to kill me once we're alone?" He looked at you in disbelief.

"I can't kill you hand-to-hand, are you crazy? Plus," he motioned out with his arms, gesturing to all of himself. "Does it look like I'm armed?" You glanced down his chest and stomach to his thighs. He wasn't built like a fighter. He was...soft. Normal. Average. If he had anything it would be a small knife under his boxers, but it seemed unlikely that he would sleep with a thigh strap on. And if so then you'd be able to see it through the white. So you conceded with a nod.

"Alright. Five minutes. Kyungsoo, leave me for the night."

"Boss, I have to advise against--"

"I don't care what you advise," you cut Kyungsoo off calmly. "I ordered you to go." His jaw clenched, exhaling through his nose the stay calm. He began to finish dressing. Slipping on his shoes while you gestured for Baekhyun to sit on the bench at the foot of the bed. Kyungsoo draped his blazer over his arm then leaned in close to your ear. Whispering so your fiance wouldn't hear.

"We still need to discuss what happened tonight." You hummed in acknowledgement then waved him off. He hesitated, shooting one last glare at Baekhyun before leaving. You sauntered over to Baekhyun. Standing in front of him while he sat on the bench.

"So," you began. "You planted a bug in my room. That's clever, I have to admit." Baekhyun hung his head. Leaning his forearms on his thighs.

"And your suit."

"Excuse me?"

"Your blazer, when I touched you at breakfast. I planted one in your pocket so I could listen to you work during the day." You paused to think about the implications, but the only thought that came to mind was his confession. Holding you not that long ago. That he likes you. It wasn't such a hollow statement now. He had been listening to you since the moment he arrived at your manor. Every interaction you had, every muttered word to yourself, everything, went into his ears. You didn't have time to dwell on it as Baekhyun continued. "I was supposed to be listening for secrets to help my family, but...after a while I just enjoyed listening to you. Your voice and how strong you are. How much you care about your business. About everything. I...I couldn't do it. Be their informant. And then tonight I--" His voice cracked. Emotions clumping in his throat. "I heard you screaming. I knew I couldn't just listen anymore. That scum was hurting you. But your guards stopped me." Baekhyun wrung his hands. "I couldn't get to you in time."

"We're two consenting adults Baekhyun." His tone hardened, but his vocal chords betrayed him and shook minutely.

"I know the difference between playing rough and abuse. I know what real pain sounds like. Trust me. And when I heard your screaming I--" he had to take a breath. Muscling through the lump in his throat. "I was so terrified." You had the urge to reach out. Card your fingers through his hair and tell him it's alright. But you kept your body still. Only one question on your mind.

"Why?" Baekhyun huffed out a humorless laugh. Running his hands down his face before they fell limp.

"Kyungsoo is much more suited for working for my family. You know that right?" Your eyes darkened. Solemn. You understood the underlying implication. But you didn't believe it. You couldn't believe it. Because that would mean you willingly embraced a monster.

"Now that you see I'm alright you should go to bed."

"No, wait," he rushed. Jumping to his feet. Eyes bloodshot, cheeks red and puffy. "Please, call Yixing. I know you won't let me look, so I need hear from a doctor that you're fine. Please." You wouldn't have considered it, but as he mentioned it another wave of stinging and burning erupted between your legs. Inside of you. Your muscles clenching and spasming around nothing. Struggling to keep your knees from shaking as they wanted to give out beneath you. Whatever injury it was, it needed to be treated. Your pelvis was still on fire.

"If you destroy all the bugs you planted." Baekhyun turned on his heel and went to the top of your bed. Reaching behind the headboard. Then coming back to you with a device in his hand. It looked like a tiny black film canister with a speaker instead of a lid. He had taped it out of sight. The base that it transmits to back in his bedroom supposedly.

"They're kinda expensive, so you can keep them instead of destroying them." You agreed. Jongdae would like them. Small and untraceable new toys for him to play with.

"Alright. Now go to bed. I'll talk to you in the morning. And be ready to go out. I'm taking you to my club." You held out your palm. He set the device in your hand.

"Yes boss," he smiled briefly. Baekhyun flinched forward like he might kiss your cheek, but thought better of it. Turning and leaving your room. You nibbled on your lip and inspected the little tube. Turning off the transmitter so Baekhyun couldn't hear you anymore. Setting it on your nightstand then picking up your phone. Yixing was not going to be glad his sleep was being interrupted for this.

[richiefuckfacetozier]

Chapter 17: Father’s Day

Story: It’s Not My Fault

Pairing: Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak

Located on Archive of our own

For other chapters - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 |

Title - "Father's Day" by Frank Turner

Warning: Use of homophobic slurs

“We need to talk.” His father said sternly.

“Wentworth," Richie sighed deeply. "I really don’t care what you want to talk about with me right now.”

“Look at me, young man.”

He crossed his arms, thinking he would ignore the request and go to bed. After their conversation, he certainly wished he had.

Richie turned around as annoyingly slow as he could. His father was holding up a small piece of paper. Richie squinted his eyes, even with his strong prescription, seeing was not his forte. He walked toward him slowly then froze. His throat dried up and his stomach felt like it was going to extricate the burger he ate that afternoon. The best meal of his life because he was holding Eddie’s hand the whole time was about to betray him.

Because in his father’s hand was not just a piece of paper.

It was a photo.

A photo of him and Eddie kissing as if no one else in the world was there.

Art by @slashpalooza

Richie was usually a pacer when horrible situations happened. He already fidgets constantly and moving helps him calm down. At this moment, he needed to do the opposite and sit because his knees were about to give out from shock. He thought he was careful hiding the photo under his mattress, knowing his parents never went into his room.

Wait a minute, why did he go into my fucking room?

“That photo has nothing to do with you.” Richie said in a shaky voice. His heart was pounding roughly against his chest.

“Sit down, Richard.”

“This is a total invasion of my fucking privacy.” Richie’s voice did not even sound like him. It was angry but most of all, terrified.

“This is my house you selfish shit. Sit down.” He repeated.

Richie’s legs moved automatically toward the empty armchair in the living room. Sitting far away from his father felt better even if he was obeying him. “What are you planning to do with the picture?” Richie said through gritted teeth.

“Nothing, if you shut up for once and do what I tell you.” Their eyes met with matching expressions of hatred. Wentworth put the photo in his pocket. “Here’s what is going to happen. You will break up with this boy.”

“I love him.” Richie replied immediately.

“You what?” His father sneered.

“I. LOVE. HIM.” Richie accented every syllable as if he could slam the words into his father’s brain through speech.

“You don’t know what love is Richard.”

“I’m not you. So yeah, I fucking do.”

“Enough!” Wentworth jabbed his finger toward Richie as his voice became deadly quiet. “You listen to me boy. I will not have any of this disgusting business under my roof. You are ungrateful and have no idea the embarrassment you bring upon this family. We didn’t raise you this way.” It was all words Richie had heard before. Listening to his father’s disappointment was similar to a CD stuck on repeat, persistently aggravating you until the player is turned off.

“You didn’t really bother raising me actually.” Richie said lazily.

“Do you think this is funny? Are you trying to ruin this family?”

“You do that all on your own.”

“How dare…”

“No! It’s my turn to talk.” Richie stood up and turned off any filter he had ever taught himself. This was the speech he always desired to speak but never did. He hesitated thinking about how Eddie would feel if he could see him now, but then pushed that down. “You say I never shut up. Well, here’s a Richie tirade for you, FATHER...”

“...You leave us for 3 weeks over winter break without any explanation, just completely disappear. You know who held us together? It wasn’t me. It was Eddie. He came by every day to make sure Mom and I were eating, bathing, cleaning the damn house, simple life stuff. Because I could barely handle Mom being drunk everyday. Now, she’s trying to get better for me she says. And what are you doing to help this family? Planning to leave her, which she doesn’t even KNOW, and telling me that I can’t be with the one person who brings me any kind of happiness in life. Why are you the world's BIGGEST JACKASS?!” Richie knew his face was on fire. He had never yelled so much and for so long before. 

I can barely breathe. Why can’t I breathe right? Is this what a panic attack feels like? I need Eddie to tell me.

Wentworth stared at Richie with harsh contempt. He seemed speechless, completely unable to defend himself. He brought back his only ammunition, threats. “End whatever this is or there will be consequences.”

A nasty laugh ripped through Richie. The kind of bitter laugh that didn’t reach your eyes and had no trace of mirth. “You think you can threaten me? I’m not scared of you. You are weak and pathetic. There is nothing you can do to me that will get me to break up with Eddie. He’s more important to me than anyone, or anything, or even my own life. Do your fucking worst.”

“If you don’t end it. I will make sure this…” He held up the photograph again. The harmless, beautiful picture of him and Eddie. “...gets into the hands of his mother.”

Richie sat down heavily staring at the man in horror. It felt like a boulder had dropped into Richie’s stomach. He was such a fool. His father was the most manipulative person in his life. He should have realized he would not bother threatening Richie. He hasn’t been able to control his son’s actions for a long time. He would have to threaten Eddie instead. It was like witnessing a cartoon villain threatening his love. Except the villain was real and him and Eddie may not survive this kind of pain.

“No…” Richie heard his voice whisper. “You wouldn’t.”

“I bet Sonia has no idea her son is a fucking faggot.” Wentworth snarled. Richie clenched his hand automatically. His brain craved the possibility of his fist meeting his father’s jaw. But he did not punch him. That was not the kind of person he wanted to be. I’m a lover, not a fighter.

“As you and mom have pointed out before, I’m a fucking faggot. How does that make you feel to have raised a boy that loves dick? Perhaps that’s why you named me Richard.” His father stood suddenly and Richie followed suit. They were the same height but Wentworth weighed at least 70 pounds more. They had never hit each other before, but Richie wondered if it was time one of them did.

“What’s going on?” Came the sharp voice of his mother. Richie looked at her feeling an irrational rage toward her too. If she had left him, I would not be in this mess. Why do we both have to be trapped with this monster?  

“Go back to your room, Maggie.” Wentworth’s voice was low and commanding. Richie glared back at him. It made him sick how controlling he was with both of them.

“No, I don’t know what’s going on but you two need to cool off.” His mother walked over and stood in front of Richie to move him away. Richie looked at her in confusion, when he realized she was trying to put herself in between them. No, she’s trying to protect me from him. The revelation almost made him cry.

“Mom,” Richie said quietly. She put her hand on his shoulder pushing him from the room.

“You end it with that little shit boy or you know what will happen.” Wentworth called viciously behind him.

“Fuck you!” Richie growled.

“Rich, go to your room, sweetheart. Lock the door and blast music.” She said hurriedly.

He stopped walking, “I’m not leaving you alone with him.”

“I can handle your father.”

“Mom, he told me...that I can’t see Eds that I have to br - ” Richie choked on the words. He swallowed back the sob. “I love him, mom. Please.”

Her golden brown eyes that matched his gazed up at him with concern and fascination. She hesitantly brought her hand up to brush away his tears. He had no idea when he started crying but was too distraught to care.

“Eddie’s lucky to have you.” She whispered kindly.

Richie shook his head as his lip trembled, “I’m lucky to have him.”

She kissed his cheek. “Thank you for not being your father.” He was hit with so much affection for her. He wrapped his long arms around her slender frame in a hug he hoped would give her strength.

“I love you, mom.” He couldn’t remember the last time he and told her that.

“I love you so much more.” She replied. He definitely couldn’t recall her saying those words to him. They broke apart and he headed to his room.

He didn’t lock the door or play music. He wanted to listen to everything they had to say. The argument started with Richie, then went to Richie and Eddie, then swiftly got to them. Richie lit a cigarette. It took him five times to light it because his hands were shaking. That first draw from the stick eased his nerves a little. He hadn't smoked a cigarette in almost a month and knew Eddie would hate it but desperation trumped his guilt. He zeroed in on the fighting again. 

“We don’t deserve that kid and this is how you treat him.”

“You act like a fucking saint. You’ve treated him much worse than I ever had!”

“That’s because I am sick, but I'm getting better. You’re just an asshole!” Her screaming was so loud, Richie wondered if the neighbors would call the police.

“You fucking bitch. I provide for this family and give you everything and…”

Richie could barely stomach their argument. He paced around his room, his energy on overdrive. His mother screamed at his father to get out of the house and never come back. He told her he was planning on it anyway but that it was her responsibility to end Richie and that boy’s defiling of the family name. It was exhausting to listen to, like a never-ending record scratch.

The front door slammed violently and his mother was screaming at him to drop dead.

Richie heard her go into the kitchen and wondered if he should go out there. A part of him wanted to feign being asleep if she tried knocking, but that was their old relationship.

He rolled out of his bed and headed to the kitchen. He stood in the entrance frame watching his mother attempting to make hot chocolate.

“If the stove is too hot, it’ll burn.” Richie walked over and turned it down. Which I only know because of Eddie. Then he grabbed marshmallows from a cabinet and cinnamon sticks. He went into the fridge and took out the whipped cream, shaking the container before uncaping it.

She grinned at him weakly. “Where do all these sweets come from?”

“Oh Mom,” Richie said gently. “It’s time you knew that I only eat sweets.” He sprayed a ton of whipped cream straight into his mouth. 

She turned toward the stove and stirred the chocolate. “That must be why you are with Eddie.”

Richie choked on the whipped cream.

He swallowed quickly, looking at her in disbelief, “Mom, that was dirty.”

She laughed a genuine laugh. “Sorry! I meant because he is the sweetest of all. Damn it. That still sounds bad.”

“No, I’m using it on him. He’ll be mortified.” Richie’s laugh filled the kitchen and she chuckled too.

“That poor boy.” She shook her head. The hot chocolate was bubbling, so she took it off the stove to let it cool down. “Sonia has no idea about him does she?”

“Um...well he tried to tell her and she wouldn’t even let him say the word gay.” Richie watched his mother carefully. She didn’t flinch or frown. She just looked like the world was on her shoulders. “They aren’t speaking and he is technically not supposed to see me anymore. But of course, we don’t care.”

“Rich, I…” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I want to say I’m sorry.” She leaned against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed. He crossed his own subconsciously, half sitting on the kitchen table.

“For what?” He pushed.

“For everything. God...this is supposed to be step 9 of the program and I am supposed to have everything written out that I am sorry for.” She hung her head miserably as she tried to find the right words to say.

“If you want to wait until you get there, that’s ok.” Richie reassured her, even if he did want an apology. Hell, I want an apology for almost 17 years of neglect, please.

She tried again, “No, I want to say now that I’m sorry for how I reacted when you came out. I can barely even remember it because I was so…so...”

“Drunk. I remember. I was there. You also told me if you had a daughter this would not be an issue. You wouldn’t have to deal with a faggot son.” Richie thought about how horrible that night was. He had a perfect memory, practically photographic, so the expressions and words of hate his parents displayed were forever stamped in his brain.

“That’s the cruelest thing I could have said to you and I’m so sorry.” She blinked quickly trying to will her tears away.

Richie sighed not feeling in a comforting mood at that moment. “It happened. You can’t take it back.”

“No, I can’t.” She looked at him steadily. “Do you know why I said that?”

“So you could braid your hypothetical daughter’s hair? I mean mines getting pretty long so you could try -“

She interrupted his ramblings, “Because my biggest fear was seeing my husband in my son’s eyes.”

Richie stayed silent mulling that over. His biggest fear was becoming his father too. He shivered at the thought. Then asked quietly, “Was your fear?”

“I know, now, you could never be like him. You’re everything I want in a child and more. I’m sorry I never realized how good I got it until now.” There were no words for how that made Richie feel. He walked forward and hugged her for the second time that night. They pulled away to make their hot chocolate, adding tons of marshmallows and cinnamon sticks.

They sat down at the table in a bit of an uncomfortable silence. Richie usually avoided awkwardness by talking but he had nothing, in particular, he wanted to talk about.

“We should talk about your father’s threat to expose you and Eddie to his mom.” She said carefully.

Richie looked at her as he blew on his hot chocolate before drinking it. “Sure.”

“I think, and don’t bite my head off…” She waited for him to nod that he would stay relaxed. “As much as I hate to say it, you may need to temporarily end things with Eddie.”

“I’m not fucking doing that.” He practically slammed his mug on the table.

“Richie…” She warned

“No! I’m not afraid of him. Like you said, Wentworth can drop dead for all I care.” He yelled. She flinched at him raising his voice and he felt guilty. There had been too much yelling tonight. “I’m sorry.”

She gave him a sad stare. “Aren’t you afraid for Eddie? Our family is too messed for you to bring someone into it.”

“Mom I…”

“You love him. I know. It is ultimately your decision but you have to figure out whether he should have pain thrust upon him or choose to bring that pain on himself.” Those words hung in the air like a parasite ready to kill its host.

Cliffhanger x2

The next chapter is almost ready to go, nobody panic. Feel free to yell at me in the comments, over messenger, or ask. 

@sam-i-am2468 @dandeliontozier @reddie-brasil @takemetothetide @ohheydatsme @slashpalooza @averym14 @fucking-reddie @leidi-didi @savannaholeff

[the-master-cylinder]

SUMMARY Fifty years after a nuclear holocaust, mankind is decimated and the surviving nations—the western-influenced Market and the Russian-influenced Confederation—have agreed to outlaw traditional open war. In their place, disputes are settled with gladiator-style matches between giant robots operated by pilots called “robot jox” who are contracted to fight ten matches. The Confederation champion is Alexander (Paul Koslo), who has killed his last nine opponents thanks in part to a spy in the Market leaking information to the Confederation. The Market’s champion, Achilles (Gary Graham) has won nine fights and will fight his final match against Alexander for the territory of Alaska. Achilles is supported by robot designer “Doc” Matsumoto (Danny Kamekona) and strategist Tex Conway (Michael Alldredge), the only jox to win all ten of his contract fights.

As Achilles gets the upper hand in the match, Alexander launches a rocket fist at him. The projectile goes out of control and heads toward the bleachers. Achilles intercepts the projectile but his robot takes the full force of the impact and is knocked into the crowd, killing over 300 people. The referees declare the match a draw and order a rematch, but Achilles, shaken by what happened, declares this was his contractual tenth match and announces his retirement. He goes to live with his brother Philip and his family, and finds he is publicly branded a traitor and a coward. Meanwhile, a new jox is chosen to face Alexander, a genetically engineered “gen jox” named Athena (Anne-Marie Johnson), who is the first female jox. Worried for Athena and attracted to her, Achilles returns to the Market and agrees to fight Alexander again, infuriating Athena.

As Achilles’ robot is rebuilt, Matsumoto refuses to divulge any knowledge of its new weapons so it cannot be leaked by the spy, and Conway confides in Achilles he believes Matsumoto is the spy. Conway confronts Matsumoto in his office. Matsumoto reveals he has analyzed Conway’s final fight and deduced that the “lucky” laser hit Conway claims allowed him to defeat a clearly superior opponent was in fact deliberately aimed; Matsumoto accuses Conway of being a Confederation agent. Conway confesses and shoots Matsumoto, who secretly records the deed as part of the mission briefing. Conway informs the Market leadership that Matsumoto was the spy. On the day of the fight Athena drugs Achilles and steals his jox suit to commandeer the robot. Unable to stop the fight once she takes the field, the Market decides to support her. While watching Matsumoto’s briefing on the robot’s new weaponry, the footage of Conway killing Matsumoto is played and Conway jumps down the robot’s elevator shaft to his death.

Alexander takes the field against Athena. Athena takes the early advantage, but Alexander overpowers her and incapacitates the robot. The fight is declared in Alexander’s favor and referees order him to stand down. Achilles arrives on the field and takes over the robot from Athena while Alexander smashes the referee hovercraft; the two jox stand to continue the fight. Both robots take to the air and a short space battle ensues. Alexander critically damages Achilles’ robot, forcing him to crash land and flee for cover to the arm of Alexander’s robot Athena sliced off earlier in the fight. Achilles hotwires the arm to launch its fist at Alexander, destroying his robot. Alexander emerges from the wreckage and the two battle with poles before Achilles finally convinces Alexander a match does not have to end with the death of a jock. Alexander throws down his weapon, and they salute each other with the jox’s traditional “crash and burn” fist bump.

DEVELOPMENT Gordon conceived Robot Jox while making Dolls in Rome. “I’m a big fan of the Japanese Transformer toys,” he explained from his office, which overlooks Sunset Boulevard. “While there have been animated cartoons based on these giant robots, no one has ever attempted a live-action feature about them. It struck me that it was a natural fantasy for the big screen-and a terrific opportunity to take advantage of the special effects that are available today.”

Steve Burg’s 1986 concept art

Gordon approached science-fiction writer Joe Haldeman to write a screenplay based on Gordon’s original story itself based on the story of Achilles from Homer’s Iliad-having worked with him two years prior on an ambitious stage adaptation of Haldeman’s most celebrated book, The Forever War: Dennis Paoli (co-author of Gordon’s Re-Animator and From Beyond) put the final draft through various rewrites.

“Joe is part of an Air Force think tank to develop weaponry for the future,” explained Gordon, “so he was able to incorporate a lot of actual existing technology into the script and to hypothesize where it might all lead. Then we started storyboarding the film. The reaction to Dave’s footage was excellent, and Charlie was able to get the project rolling on a projected $10 million budget-a huge budget for an Empire film. I think Charlie saw it as Empire’s chance to move up into larger-budget films.”

“Haldeman did 11 drafts of the script,” the director recalls. “Joe’s experience in Vietnam was helpful here because the story’s about our future, 50 years after an atomic war. The world is basically broken down into two superpowers: The Market, which is like the Common Market except that Japan and the United States are part of it, and the Confederation, which is everybody else. Earth has vowed no war will ever take place again, so international disputes are settled by single combat between pilots of huge robots.” These pilots are called robot jockeys or robot jocks

The sequence, using robots designed by Kevin Altieri, was storyboarded by Altieri from the prologue to the script by science fiction writer Joe Haldeman, set in a snowscape where a heavy fog covers an apparent “elephants’ graveyard” of broken, battered robots, the fallen warriors of a robotic battlefield. Here and there among the shells, fires sputter near the latest casualties while a big, menacing robot stands over its victim.

“I thought it turned out very well,” said Allen of the test footage. “The style is quite different from anything else we did subsequently because it was all shot interior while everything else has been done exterior. It didn’t splice together perfectly because it depended upon live-action which hadn’t been shot.”

PRE-PRODUCTION Six months passed while Empire continued efforts to raise financing for the film while at the same time revising the effects complexities of the script to bring them in line with budget realities, mostly by simplifying the robot action. During these delays designer Altieri left the production to accept work as a full-time director at DIC Animation Studios.

Gordon said he brought Cobb into the project “to bring a real sense of believable technology to the robots, so they could be something an audience could accept as a reality as opposed to a cartoon show. Cobb designs things that could actually work,” said Gordon. “What we ended up with was a look that was different from the look of the Japanese toys. It’s very utilitarian and it looks big, like it has the power to do what it has to do.”

Cobb explained that when he was approached by Gordon to work on ROBOT JOX he was already committed to another project and could only work on weekends. “When I left, I told them they should make Steve Burg production designer or give him the clout of production designer because he was the only person that knew how the robots went together and was the only person that could police the construction,” said Cobb. “They just walked all over him. Eventually it was wrenched out of his hands. Everything went to pot when he left. The designs got really confused. The final shape and form of the film has obviously had problems, too.”

“I was most intrigued to design the cabs and how the interactive body motions were translated by waldos to the entire robot. I was trying to think of a reason for transformation. If it could translate into different modes of fighting, that might make sense. The idea really is silly, of course, but I wanted to keep it believable and then over and above it all, it’s humorous. It’s not a serious picture, and it isn’t meant to be.”

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Cobb was also asked to design robotic parts made of heavy-duty plastic (with metal armatures underneath) which special FX supervisor David Allen could reshape, using different models for different shots during the film’s major transformation sequences. Another Cobb-assisted movie is Stuart Gordon’s Robot Jox. “Again, that was in my conceptual design mode, so I basically opted to do all the key technology and moved on. Steve Burg was involved, and carried out many of my designs. We wanted a kind of non-Japanese version of a Transformer robot, which is very, very clever technologically speaking. We weren’t going to have them turn into semi-trucks or something, but we were going to have them break apart and operate in different functions and modes. I always liked the idea where the entire head became a little aircraft. I believe that has been changed-now the whole robot flies and changes.

According to Allen, Cobb came up with a new look for Achilles and Alexander, the main robojock pilots, their robots, and a few sets, including a gantry and silo. When the project encountered more delays, Cobb too, departed. “I suspect that payments to Ron started to flag,” said Allen. “There was sort of a painless transition. Ron left Steve Burg in charge to do the refinements and subsequent modifications.”

Steve Bury was brought in to assist Cobb with the robot detailing, since Cobb had a limited amount of time to devote to the project. “We were constantly referring to Ron’s drawings, and Steve continued to report back to Ron to show him what he was doing and to get Ron’s approval. As a matter of fact, Ron and Steve hit it off so well that they’ve worked together ever since.”

LIVE ACTION PHOTOGRAPHY Robot Jox began principal photography at Empire’s Rome facilities in January 1987, and wrapped in April. Gordon then turned over the post-production effects to Allen, who had selected El Mirage, a dry lake bed near the Mojave Desert, as the site for filming of the live-action robot skirmishes. (Some stop-motion work would be done at Allen’s Burbank studios; the live-action filming made use of the 5-foot, 50-pound cable-controlled models of Achilles and Alexander.)

“There wasn’t too much choice as far as shooting outdoors because Empire didn’t own a local stage we could work on,” Allen explained. “And even then it would have to have been huge; we would have had to hang and paint a cyclorama and then put tables out and light everything artificially. We would have been into a tremendous set rental situation over an extended period of time, which would have been a huge cash drain.”

El Mirage was chosen for its brilliant blue skies and unobstructed panorama, but the year of on-again, offagain shooting that transpired-Allen and his crew would make a total of three trips out to the desert location proved to be anything but smooth sailing. The weather was so temperamental Allen considered it a good day if he got two or three good shots in the can.

The heat wasn’t so bad, but as we were in a geothermally unstable area, we were at the mercy of the elements,” Allen said. “We had to contend daily with clouds, rain, dust storms and hellishly high winds-our outhouse got blown over constantly. Sometimes the dust was so bad you couldn’t see in front of you. When that happened, we’d go back to the motel or drive back to L.A. When it rained the lake bed would fill up and our cars were in danger of getting stuck.”

Numerous delays caused by the weather-and requests made by Gordon for additional effects-made location shooting more costly than Empire budgeted for. Still, Allen bristles at the suggestion that his unit work might have set the film back. The location shooting was probably more expensive than Empire expected, yeah. However the problem wasn’t that we were breaking the bank but that we weren’t getting money sent to us regularly enough. If by week four we didn’t have a check, we had to go back to L.A. Rain or shine I still had to put up 10 or 12 guys in a motel.”

David Allen

SPECIAL EFFECTS PHOTOGRAPHY With the designs set, the robots were finally transferred from the drawing table into three-dimensional models, constructed in two sizes: a stop motion size of about 20 inches tall and a larger cable-articulated miniature, closer to 50 inches high. Allen pointed out that the robot miniatures were particularly difficult to build because their joints had to be cosmetic as well as practical.“A robot doesn’t have implied’ joints like a foam rubber model,” said Allen. “It has actual working interstices: the hinges and swivels and all the hydraulics and the pistons have to be tracked. It isn’t like rubber that just mushes out of its own way. If you don’t design it right, the joints will all freeze up and lock. A robot can look good and be totally musclebound or joint bound.”

“The transformations sort of suffered due to the realities of the schedule and the budget,” said Burg. “The changes were generally not that extensive. The rocket mode, for example, had some wings pulled out and cockpits reoriented, but it was still recognizable as being the same thing, whereas with some of the TRANSFORMERS cartoons, it looks completely different. That would have been possible, but it would have taken an enormous amount of time to figure it out cleverly and would have taken a lot more resources to execute.”

Dennis Gordon, a long-time Allen associate, supervised the construction of the robot miniatures for Allen. Ron Thornton was brought in to head another construction team, and Mark Goldberg and Patrick Cox of the Local Motion Company were hired to build the cable-activated controls and armatures. Mark Rappaport built many of the robot’s weapons. Construction crews of up to twenty craftsmen worked for many months to complete the miniatures.

During this time, Allen was working full-time for ILM in San Rafael on BATTERIES NOT INCLUDED, a four month assignment he had accepted during one of the many production delays on ROBOT JOX. The ILM work stretched into a full year, keeping Allen away from his shop except for weekend visits to supervise the progress of building the ROBOT JOX miniatures. Allen compared overseeing the consortium of effects people at work to “managing D-Day.” During the weekend visits to his LA studio, Allen also completed stop-motion work for Gordon’s DOLLS.

Good actors are essential in selling special effects, making them seem believable, and Gordon said he felt that his cast was very good at “being able to create that sense of combat, one-on-one, which depends on the actors involved to be able to react with each other and play off of each other. The feeling that we were going for was something like ROCKY,” said Gordon. “There are real ups and downs in these battles and real emotional reactions to things that are going on. The robots are basically tools and weapons that are carrying out the war of these men.

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David Allen began post-production work on the carefully storyboarded robot battles, filming stop-motion at his studio and taking a crew out to a dry lake bed in El Mirage, near the Mojave desert, to film the large cable-activated robots live. Allen executed the stop-motion work with Paul Jessel, who animated the Achilles robot after Athena takes control.

Said Allen about working with Gordon, “Stuart is a person who showed himself to be quite decided about things, but he doesn’t dig in his heels. He accepts realities when .he’s satisfied that what he wants is impractical or not possible. I had a pretty free hand considering what I imagine Stuart is like on a set where he would usually be expecting to control his movies—that’s what any director expects to do. He was pretty good about letting us work in a loose kind of way. Of course, the [story]boards are very important. I don’t deviate from them too much unless I have to or I feel I can improve them or in some cases I just feel they are not very filmic. My changes have usually been appreciated rather than resented. I think we have a good relationship compared to the horror stories I often hear about with other directors.”

“Conceptually, filming there was a wonderful idea but, in reality, it turned into a huge ordeal for Dave’s crew because they were shooting out there for almost a year, completely at the mercy of the desert. When they came back, they all looked like Lawrence of Arabia.”

Additional robot weaponry includes cannons, machine guns and a Smart missile, on which is mounted a video camera for point of-view shots. For hand-to-hand combat, there are saws, drills and a magnesium flare which can suddenly blind an opponent.

But, says Gordon, “the human story must be the center of it all. No matter how great your FX are, if the audience doesn’t care about the people, then there’s no movie. That’s why I was drawn to the story of Achilles, the warrior who doesn’t want to fight anymore but is forced back into it because of his lover’s death. That’s the center of ours as well, though we’ve put it into science-fiction terms.”

Along with some stop-motion FX added later, Allen and his crew shot on location in the Mojave Desert utilizing large models for these mechanical effects; others were used for pyrotechnic explosions, while some doubled as “stunt robots” for shots in which they couldn’t destroy their carefully detailed models.

“By shooting in Death Valley, David was able to do extensive foreground miniature work, as opposed to doing it optically in post-production,” explains the director. “So most of the effects work was done in the camera, which gives it a very realistic, seamless look, because you’re seeing real mountains, sky and sunlight behind these robots.” This technique also offered the filmmakers a tremendous depth of field, keeping both the foreground and background in focus.

The live location shooting of the big miniature robots at El Mirage proved to be the biggest headache for Allen. When the location work cost Empire more than expected, Allen’s crew had to pack up and leave until more funds became available. All in all, Allen and his crew made three extended trips out into the desert. “I think if you took all the periods and added them up, we were out there for at least six or seven months,” said Allen. “That’s a long time to have a second unit crew on location. We made a very large commitment to that decision. It was a decision dictated by my recommendation, but also by practicalities.” The alternative would have been to shoot in an enormous warehouse or hanger with cycloramas, which would have been an even more expensive proposition for Empire, according to Allen.

“It takes a certain daring to shoot outdoors,” said Allen about the decision. “That’s why movies were made indoors for thirty years, because of the pressures of the industry to force predictability and control on the product. There were a lot of problems in El Mirage. We underestimated those problems.”

According to Gordon, one of the reasons the effects are taking so long is that Allen is shooting in sunlight out in the desert to incorporate real mountains and skies as a backdrop. The vastness of the desert is being used to combine the miniature robots with vast cheering throngs of spectators by shooting the cable-controlled models up close with a stadium set far in the background.

Allen is also shooting background plates for stop-motion work to be completed at his own studio. “I think the effects are really going to blow people’s minds,” said Gordon. “Although this is Empire’s largest budget, anyone else attempting this picture would want to budget three times as much.”

Gordon also pegged the film’s delay to the time-consuming special effects techniques being used to bring the story’s giant, transforming, fighting robots to life. The work, supervised by Oscar nominee David Allen, is said to be spectacular by those who viewed a product reel of footage shown by Empire at the American Film Market earlier this year. To realize the film’s complex effects action inexpensively, Allen wedded today’s sophisticated puppet technology to the low-budget effects techniques used by Howard and Theodore Lydecker on the Republic serials of the ’40s, filming the robots live against real backdrops.

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“It’s an approach that I don’t think anyone would attempt unless they were looking at this as we were—from a very low budget,” said Gordon about reviving the Lydecker approach. “Rather than light a miniature on a stage, they would take the miniature outdoors and light it with sunlight, using real sky and real clouds. It gives the miniature work greater realism. The effect is seamless because it is done in the camera.”

Gordon thinks audiences will be able to notice the difference from the blue screen optical compositing techniques that have become commonplace in effects films. “I think audiences are starting to get wise to those techniques and are able to spot them and know exactly what you’re doing,” he said. “By going back to these older techniques, our effects have a freshness about them.”

Allen and his crew spent over a year in the desert shooting the film’s robot scenes using natural sunlight, painstakingly matching the variable lighting conditions for sequences filmed over a prolonged period of time. At the mercy of the elements, the crew endured wind, rain and sandstorms which often made the shooting a waiting game. Beside the weather, the financial climate at Empire resulted in its own delays. “At one point they had to shut down production and pull Allen and his crew out of the desert until the cash flow improved,” said Gordon.

Allen accomplished most of the scenes of robot warfare live, using cable-controlled models, although stop-motion is used for some scenes. He has a second set of robots that are in a smaller scale which he uses for stop-motion,” said Gordon. “When he’s not able to get the large ones to do it, he uses stop-motion. One of the things that I am amazed at is that he’s able to meld the two in terms of being able to go from a stop motion shot to a puppeted shot. I don’t think the audience will be able to tell the difference in most of the cases. It’s a wonderful blend.”

Allen was pleased with the realism provided by the natural lighting and backdrops, but using a natural sky meant that the sky was always changing, making it sometimes difficult to match shots. And the sky at El Mirage was like Mark Twain’s comment about the Hawaiian Islands: “If you don’t like the weather, wait a few minutes and it’ll change.” Noted Allen dryly, the weather almost always seemed to get worse on any given day rather than better.

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Allen’s right-hand man on the shoot was associate effects director Paul Gentry. Ray Goode served as effects crew foreman and pryotechnician Joe Viskocil handled the fire and explosions. Winds proved especially bedeviling for the numerous shots requiring pyro effects, blowing the fire and smoke hysterically, giving away the small scale of the miniatures. The wind also blew sand off the elevated tables that the miniatures were filmed on and into the faces of the cable operators and camera crew. The difficult shoot was exhausting to everyone on the crew. Seemingly simple sequences would take hours to get on film because the process by which the robots were manipulated had to be hidden and their movements painstakingly detailed and adjusted. But Allen is very pleased with the results that were achieved.

“A major studio could not have afforded to put up a second unit working in the conditions under which we produced these shots,” said Allen. “A lot of days we simply couldn’t do anything and had to sit it out. It would be ruinously expensive to work that way for a major studio. For them, it would have been cheaper to work indoors. But for Empire it would have been much more expensive because they were not committed to the union way of doing things. To put a second unit out under those conditions, you would have to have a lunch wagon and a guard and all the facilities and amenities. We had my old R.V. and we were like a bunch of ragtag Eagle Scouters practically.”

Looking back on the years of work on ROBOT JOX, Allen remembered with some irony his first conversation with Empire chief Charles Band about ROBOT JOX, indicating the naivete with which Empire entered into the complex effects project.

Joe Haldeman

Interview with screenwriter Joe Haldeman What kind of working relationship did you have with Stuart Gordon? Joe Haldeman: I enjoy working with Stuart because he’s one of the best administrators I’ve ever seen in the arts. He and I had many pretty good-natured arguments over what the movie was going to be about, and about what science fiction was supposed to do. He usually won, being the director. We identified the problem without actually solving it-I was trying to make an adult movie that children would enjoy, and he was trying to make a children’s movie that adults would enjoy. Those are two really different kinds of movies, and I guess we never did resolve them.

How did you get involved? Joe Haldeman: Stuart called me. He’d had two successes with From Beyond and ReAnimator, and the producer gave him more or less carte blanche. He wanted to do a hard SF movie, so he called me up and he said, “I don’t have much money, but how would you like to write a movie that actually gets made?”

And I said, “Yeah!” So, he said, “What I want to do is a science-fiction version of The Iliad.” I said, “Great,” and he said, “I’ll send you a couple-page outline.” So, I get this outline, it’s pretty much like The Iliad, except it has a love interest, and people walk around in great big robots. I worked up a proposal to pitch it to the producers. They sent us out to Los Angeles and I pitched it, and they bought it. I wrote it and rewrote it-all six drafts of it.

Did you meet with the actors? Joe Haldeman: Yeah, I loved the actors. That happened because I did six drafts, and then another draft written by somebody else came in the mail. It was just awful! I wrote Stuart a long letter detailing why he shouldn’t use that script. I didn’t hear from him for months, and I thought, “Well, that’s it.” Then, they called me in December and said, “We read your criticism, you’re completely right and we want you to write the final version. Can you be in Rome tomorrow?” You can imagine how weird that was. I said, “It’s nearly Christmas, I can’t come to Rome tomorrow. Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve got a family.” I said I would be in Rome by the first week of the New Year. They said, “OK.”

They put us up in a really grand hotel on the Via Veneto in Rome. I sat there with my little manual typewriter and rewrote the script word-for-word. It was a whole new script because I got to talk to the actors, the male and female leads. We hashed out the main characters together so that they were comfortable with them. I would get up about 2:00 a.m. and write until 7:00, when the actors were going out. I would go down and copy the pages for them, and they would get in the limo and go out to the studio to act ’em out. It was a really vibrant and exciting way to live. When you’re going through something like that, you realize, “God, this is changing my life forever!” I really loved working on that project, loved being a team player rather than being the only guy responsible for the whole product.

I’m eternally grateful to Stuart for choosing me for that. He could have chosen many people who are more tractable. I think he got a good movie out of it. You can’t tell until all the various elements come together. We got good actors, we got one hell of a good writer (Smiles), we got one of the best directors around.

And the special FX? Joe Haldeman: The special FX were great. They took us out to the studios at the largest soundstages in Europe. The story involved robots 500 feet high, and they had actually build one up to the knees inside of that huge soundstage. I don’t know what I had expected, but there were futuristic automobiles, and the interiors of futuristic homes, military training stuff. I walked into the wardrobe room, and there were 200 costumes that were made for people who before had only inhabited a universe in my mind. All of this stuff, millions of dollars and hundreds of people working thousands of hours, were all there to make solid the things that I just imagined the way I imagined a novel. That was a mind-blower! It should only happen to every science-fiction writer.

Robot Jox (1989) Frédéric Talgorn Frédéric Talgorn, who had previously composed the music for the 1989 horror film Edge of Sanity, wrote the orchestral film score for Robot Jox, which was performed by the Paris Philharmonic Orchestra. Since Prometheus Records reissued the soundtrack in 1993, it has received generally high acclaim. An editorial review by Filmtracks.com stated that “Talgorn’s usual strong development of thematic ideas is well utilized in rather simplistic fashion in this film, perfect for the contrasting characters and their underdeveloped dimensions.”

CAST/CREW Directed Stuart Gordon

Produced Charles Band

Screenplay Joe Haldeman

Story Stuart Gordon

Music Frédéric Talgorn

Gary Graham – Achilles Anne-Marie Johnson – Athena Paul Koslo – Alexander Robert Sampson – Commissioner Jameson [sic] Danny Kamekona – Dr. “Doc” Matsumoto Hilary Mason – Professor Laplace Michael Alldredge – Tex Conway Jeffrey Combs – Spectator/Prole #1

CREDITS/REFERENCES/SOURCES/BIBLIOGRAPHY Cinefantastique v17n01 Cinefantastique v18n04 Cinefantastique v19n01-02 Horrorfan#02 Starlog#145 Starlog#158

Robot Jox (1989) Retrospective SUMMARY Fifty years after a nuclear holocaust, mankind is decimated and the surviving nations—the western-influenced Market and the Russian-influenced Confederation—have agreed to outlaw traditional open war.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Hook Man- Part 1

Pairing: Eventual Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,965

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, angst, language, minor character death, blood, you know the usual

Summary: You never thought Bloody Mary would be a real legend. So when you were presented with the idea that the Hook Man could be real, you took no chances. 

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Please, if you want to be tagged for this series, let me know and I’ll add you! If you want to be tagged for my other fics, I’ll add you! I want to hear what you guys think about this.

Read the backstory for this episode!

You go Camping with Dean

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The search for John was getting colder with each day that passed. You tried to give the boys hope but it wasn’t working too well. Sam was losing faith in this whole thing and Dean was shutting himself from everyone else to hide how he really felt.

But you knew.

You could hunt all you want but there is and always has been one goal: Be a family again. You couldn’t do that if John was missing. Just like the start of every case, either Sam or Dean was looking for one while you tried to aid and assist.

Sam was trying to call people that might know where John is and Dean was searching for a case on Sam’s laptop. You were in a rundown café, not really paying attention to what was going on around you.

“We’ll find John. He’s out there, somewhere and he may not want our help but he’s going to get it.” You said to Dean. The boys have been hoping and wondering where John was but no information was found. It was like John didn’t want to be found. It was all very weird to you.

“I know we’ll find him.” Dean said without looking up. You sipped your coffee and looked around you, hoping no one would recognize you from the police pictures from the last hunt. “Hey, your cheek is looking better.”

“Yeah, that shifter can hit. Wow, I’m more worried about being sent to jail than my cheek.” You joked. The bruise the shifter left was barely there but it took a while for it to go away.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” Dean sighed.

“You did.” You smiled at him. He protected you from anything and everything. It was one of the reasons you were in love with him. You watched Sam hang up the payphone and make his way over to you.

“So, anything?” Dean sounded hopeful but it was more likely false hope than anything.

“No, there is nothing in the FBI’s Missing Persons Data Bank or any John Doe fitting his description. I even had them run his plates for traffic violations but nothing turned up.” Sam said with a sigh. The search for this man was wearing you out more than it should. Where could one man be?

“Sam, maybe your father doesn’t want to be found.” You looked at him to see his shoulders sag and you nodded to Dean to let him show Sam what he found.

“Check this out,” Dean said, showing Sam the laptop. “It’s a news item out of Planes Courier. Ankeny, Iowa. It’s only about a hundred miles from here.”

“The mutilated body was found near the victim’s car, parked on 9 Mile Road. Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible.” You explained, watching Sam’s reaction.

“This could be something.” Dean pointed it out.

“Or it could be nothing at all. One freaked out witness who didn’t see anything? Doesn’t mean it’s the Invisible Man.” Sam shrugged.

“Sam, what if it is? You know John would have checked it out.” You said to him.

“Fine.” Sam said, grabbing his coffee and walking towards the car. Dean huffed and shut the laptop, frustrated with his brother.

“He’ll come around, Dean.” You said, grabbing your coffee and heading to the car with him. You were on the road in no time, speeding towards the state you’ve never been to.

“So how am I going to explain why I’m at a fraternity house?” You asked, looking at the house in front of you.

“Sweetheart, I’m sure you’ll come up with something.” Dean said as he parked in front of the house. You saw about three men working on cars and you knew just how you would be let in. You have to use what you can use best: your sexuality.

You were thankful you wore shorts and a tight shirt as you got out of the car. You looked at the men who stared you down. You hated feeling like a piece of meat but you needed to get inside and that required a bunch of college boys to think with their dicks and not their heads.

“We’re your fraternity brothers from Ohio. We’re new in town and looking for a place to stay.” Dean smiled at the guys who looked at him strangely.

“Who’s she?” One of them said, eyeballing you.

“What? I came to drop my brothers off.” You pulled down your shirt a little and they smirked. You saw Dean take a glance at you and he rolled his eyes.

“My God…” He muttered, walking past the men as Sam went in front of him. You walked behind Sam and you could tell all eyes were not on you but your ass.

“Hey, eyes to yourself.” Dean snapped at them. You giggled and walked inside, looking around. You followed Dean up to a room with its door open and a man who was painting his body purple.

“Who are you?” The guy said, looking at you in the mirror he was in front of.

“We’re your new roommates.” Dean smiled and walked in with Sam.

“Who is she?” He smirked at you through the mirror.

“My sister so back off.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Do me a favor? Get my back. Big game today.” The frat boy smiled and held out a paint brush to Dean. He looked at you and smirked again. “Unless you would like to do it.”

“I’ll do it.” Sam said, grabbing the paintbrush and the paint bucket, getting to work.

“So, Murph, is it true?” Dean asked, looking at some magazines. You didn’t know how he knew his name but he did. You walked in further and looked around but went to Dean and stood next to him. Oh, the magazine had a name on it.

“Is what true?” Murph asked.

“We heard one of the guys around here got killed last week.”

“Yeah, he did.” Murph said sadly.

“What happened?” Sam asked him, continuing his work.

“They’re saying some psycho with a knife is around here. Maybe a drifter passing through. Rich was a good guy.” Murph said.

“Was he with someone?” Sam wondered

“Not just somebody, Lori Sorensen.” He said that like you were supposed to know who she was.

“Who’s that?” you asked.

“Lori is a freshman and a hot one at that. Plus, she’s the reverend’s daughter.” Murph smiled.

“You wouldn’t happen to know which church, would you?” You asked, sliding your hand sneakily into Dean’s jacket. Thankfully, he was busy pointing his eyes somewhere else to notice and you slipped his keys out, holding them in your hands.

“Yeah, the one that’s across from the college. They’re having service now and I bet Lori is there.” You smiled and nodded, clasping your hands together.

“Great, why don’t I check that out and you three can get acquainted better.” Dean and Sam both looked at you with wide eyes.

“You don’t have the keys.” Dean reached into his pocket but frowned when he didn’t find them.

“No, I think it would be great if you stayed. I mean, she’s not really supposed to be in here and we could use some extra help getting ready for the game.”

“I’ll pick you up later.” You grinned and held up the keys in front of Dean and if he was a cartoon, you would see smoke coming out of his ears at how pissed he was. Before you could get in trouble, you ran out of the place and to Dean’s car, getting in and starting it.

Dean chased after you but you drove off before he could get to you. You grinned and rolled the windows down. To hell with Dean if he says you couldn’t drive the car. You were a great driver and he would need to get over it.

You loved the feel of the Impala’s purr as you drove. She was really a work of art and you were damned if something bad happened to her. You reached the church in no time. You parked and got out, pocketing the keys. You hoped not to interrupt so you quietly opened the door and slipped inside, making sure not to slam the door.

“The loss of a young person is particularly tragic. A life unlived is the saddest of passings. So, please, let us pray. For peace, for guidance, and for the power to protect our children.” Some people must have heard you come in because a girl looked back as you slipped into one of the pews. You saw as everyone bowed their heads and you did the same, out of respect.

The service ended soon after that and you were still seated, waiting for everyone to pass by you. You gathered bits from here and there but when someone said Lori’s name, you perked up and saw a woman walk up to Lori. They both smiled and started talking, walking outside of the church. You got up, heading outside to see if you could talk to them.

You watched from the doors as the two women talked. The other woman seemed to be convincing Lori of something but when the other woman walked away, you took your chance.

“Are you Lori?” You smiled politely.

“Yeah.” She nodded.

“My name is Y/N and I just transferred to the University.”

“I saw you inside.” She nodded.

“I don’t want to bother you. I just heard about what happened and I wanted to say how sorry I am. I know what you’re going through. I saw someone die as well. It’s not something you just forget.” You said gently. You saw an older gentleman walk up to you and you knew he was the reverend by the way he was dressed.

“Dad, this is Y/N. She’s a new student.” You smiled and shook her dad’s hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you sir. I must say, that was an inspiring sermon.” You said with a smile.

“Thank you very much. It’s so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord’s message.” Her dad nodded.

“Listen, I’m new in town and I was wondering if there was a church group?” You needed him away so you could talk to the daughter.

“Yes, there is indeed, let me go get the information and I’ll find you when I do. “He smiled and walked off, leaving you and Lori alone.

“Tell me, what are the police saying?” You looked at her, walking with her. She seemed glad of the subject change for a bit.

“Well, they don’t have a lot to go on. I think they blame me for that.” She sighed.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s because of the story I told them. I was so scared and I guess I was just “seeing things”. But I know what I saw.”

“Just because you think it’s unbelievable, doesn’t mean it wasn’t real. What did you see, by the way?” You smiled nicely.

“Have you ever heard of the Hook Man?” She asked you. She told you all about what it was and what she saw. You just couldn’t wait to tell Dean and Sam.

“Thank you for your time, I appreciate it.” You smiled.

“Maybe you can find me at the university. I know what it’s like to be new and not know anyone.” You nodded and smiled, walking away from her and to Dean’s car. You got in and started her up, driving back to the frat house. You knew Dean would be pissed and he would never let you touch his car again but it was well worth it.

Part Two

Masterlist // Series Rewrite Masterlist // Buy me a Coffee?

Series Rewrite tags:

@helllonearth @amyisabellal @deanwnchstr @caseykitten6 @roxalya19 @quixoticcat

Forever tags:

@deans-shorter-squirrel @maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith @mogaruke @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @whit85-blog @inlovewithbja

Dean tags:

@akshi8278 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @winchesterandpie

Other tags:

@jensen-jarpad @notnaturalanahi @deathtonormalcy56 @27bmm

[sleepyfaceandsnark]

Don’t Love You Like I Did Yesterday: Chapter 11

(i never posted this chapter from a year ago omg)

“I Don’t Wanna Love Somebody Else”

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9  Chapter 10

I worship this tenacity and the beautiful struggle we're in Love will not elude us Love is simple

Ian wakes the next day to look up and find his bed with out Mickey.  He gets up and checks his room and the connecting bathroom.

“Mick?” Ian calls out. “Mickey?”

He goes around the apartment trying to find Mickey.

Jason’s on the couch watching morning cartoons.

“Hey, you see Mickey around?”

Jason nods and swallows his cereal. “Mm dude left around 9.”

Ian checks the microwave clock. It reads 11am.

“Shit.” He goes back to his room and checks his phone. No calls or texts. He goes to his contacts and scrolls to Mickey’s name. He hopes nothing happened to him or he didn’t go back to Jackson, remembering what he said the night before when Ian asked him about going back to him. His mind doesn’t allow him to worry further as Mickey picks up the phone on the 3rd ring.

“Hey,” Mickey answers.

“Where are you?” Ian gets right to it.

He hears a sigh on the other end. “Outside my apartment.”

“What? Mick-“  

“Relax. It’s alright. I came to talk but he’s apparently not here so…”

“Mickey, you’re not gonna go back to him?”

There’s a long pause. “Nah…No.” Mickey  breathes out. “Ha turns out I actually didn’t do much sleeping last night. Kept waking up and shit. I thought a lot about what you said and…maybe you’re right. Maybe I deserve someone better.”

Good. Good. Ian thinks “Mickey you don’t have to confront him yourself. I can make it there in about 5 minutes.” Ian already starts going through his drawers to get clothes out.

“Nah. I got this.” Mickey says confidently. “Don’t need you protecting my ass.” He laughs.  “You working today?”

“No. You sure you don’t need help or anything?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine,” Mickey says. “Meet up with me later?”

“Sure. Okay.”

There’s a click on the other end as Mickey hangs up. Ian holds his phone in his hands and sits on the bed. Thinking again, always thinking.

Mickey does deserve better and Ian hopes he can be better for him. Ian wasn’t going to let fear get in the way of them, not anymore.

They meet up later in the day, Mickey texting Ian a place an hour earlier.

“He ever show up?” Ian asks, hesitantly.

Mickey shakes his head. “Tried to gather up all his shit, put it in a box. Didn’t realize how much stuff he left over.” He gives a half chuckle and plays with his sandwich.  “I could always sell the crap. Pay for groceries for a week or two.”

Ian nods in agreement. It’s not a bad idea. “He have keys to your place?”

Mickey sighs. “Yeah. He’s got the spares.”

“Shit.”

“Mhmm. Tried to see if I can get the locks changed or something but the apartment’s office isn’t open on weekends so I’ll have to wait till Monday at least.”

“They work on Monday?” Ian asks, his mouth with some food still in it.

Mickey gives him a questioning look.

Ian wipes his mouth. “It’s a holiday.”

“Ah shit that’s right. Okay so Tuesday then.” Mickey bites his lip. “Fuck.”

“You know you can stay at my place as long as you need, Mick.” Ian wipes his hands on his napkin, an attempt to be casual about it.

“Yeah?” Mickey looks up.

“Long as you need.”

Mickey nods and takes Ian’s offer in. “Yeah I’ll think about it. Thanks.”

Ian smiles. “Of course.”

They sit in silence, neither sure what to say next, and eat. Mickey finally thinks of a movie he saw the other night and wanted to tell Ian about but forgot about it. That gets them talking about things other than the events of the night before.

Ian tries his best to make Mickey laugh, with success. Their eyes meet after Mickey wipes away his tears from laughter at a particular thing Ian says and they both get lost. How could they have this connection but still not connect?

Mickey is the first to break, shaking his head and looking down at the table.

“We should get going huh?” He asks. Ian clears his throat and agrees.

They both get up and dispose of their trash.

They make it outside and start walking away from campus.

“You wanna come back to my place? We could watch something on Netflix?”

“Yeah sure. For a little bit.” Mickey agrees but Ian can sense some hesitation.

“Cool.”

“Hey before we…decide on that can I say something?” Mickey asks, stopping Ian.

“Uh sure.” Ian doesn’t know why but his heart starts racing, something about Mickey’s tone.

“Good.” Mickey clears his throat uneasily. “You know the last night when I said that shit about how I loved you…?” Mickey waits for Ian's confirmation. He could take it back if Ian didn’t remember.

“Yeah. I do.” Ian remembers almost fondly because he had wanted to hear those words from Mickey for forever, he never thought he would if he was being honest. But he was talking of the past, of memories.

“That was a fucking lie and I’m sorry,” Mickey lets out and Ian’s heart drops. He tries not to let it show on his face, the disappointment, the regret that he himself didn’t say anything when he could, and the sadness that Mickey didn’t love him.

I was tired. You were giving me a place to stay when I needed it and I was confused were the reasons Ian made up that would come out of Mickey’s mouth next.

But it’s not.

“I was wrong to say that,” Mickey starts again.  “I said I loved you…but I…I never stopped.  I loved you yes. I still love you and I probably will forever love you.”

Mickey continues and Ian’s sure he’s not hearing the words correctly but Mickey keeps going, his words filling Ian with a warmth he hasn’t felt in a long time.

“And if you don’t feel the same way and want to stay friends that’s fine but I just needed you to know so I can- Well I just needed you to know that.”

Mickey, done, finally looks back up at Ian unable to read him.

“Mickey…” Ian lets out, and Mickey thinks the worst.

“Yeah, I know.” He brushes the rest of what Ian’s about to say and decides to continue walking.

“Mickey!” Ian yells running to him and moves in front of him.

“Look I know what you’re going to say and I just-“

“I love you,” Ian lets out, a huge weight coming of his shoulder. “I love you so fucking much.” He grabs Mickey’s shoulders, making sure he hears him. “I. Love. You. I’m sorry I was such a shit and let you say those things to me  and I just threw it in your face. I was scared. I let my fear about…shit about everything get in between us again but fuck , Mickey. I love you.”

Ian watches as Mickey’s eyes go wide, taking all of Ian’s words in and believing them. He watches as Mickey’s face breaks into the most fulfilled smile he’s seen.

“You love me?”

“Yes. So much.” Ian leans down and kisses Mickey’s lip. He pulls away quickly. “So fuckin much.”

They kiss each other and time seems to stop. The kiss each other not caring about the bystanders concerned about PDA. They kiss each other like they never stopped being together, like the past years never happened. They’re finally together again.

[erynmorragin]

Everything wrong with Endgame (Spoilers)

Ok I’m not here to argue, and I’m not saying that I didn’t like parts of the movie. Or that I don't understand why some things were done the way they were. But that also doesn’t mean that I can’t also see ways it could have been done better for a very similar result. For the most part the things I liked about the movie come down to humor and the cinematic experience. So the videography, music, and visual experience like fights. Which given that it's a Marvel film was to be expected. They are very good at balancing humor and darkness and the filmography tends to be wonderful. However I had tons of issues with a lot of the rest of the film. And looking back over the films done by the Russo brothers I have in general not loved them as much as the rest of the MCU.

My thoughts will be divided into different sections based mainly on the main 6 and their arcs/ characters and relationships to those around them. Again this contains spoilers for the movie. I am not trying to argue about the film or why it was done the way it was done. Just needed a place to rant my thoughts and emotions about the film. (For all I know I may never post this anywhere.) But basically it’s an “I recognize the council has made a decision but given that its a stupid ass decision I’ve elected to ignore it.” Except sub Russo’s for Council. Also while I am trying to organize this logically it won’t be chronological because I can’t do that and have it be fixed by characters.

Bruce/ The Hulk:

Ok Starting off small with Bruce and the Hulk. In general its character issues for them. I hate what was done to Bruce. Not only is it creepy I don’t feel it was fair to the Hulk. While I do get wanting him to reconcile with the Hulk and understand that Hulk isn’t evil and they need to work together. But it felt more like Bruce figured out a way so he could be in control while having the Hulk’s body and strength and that just doesn’t seem fair or ok. Not to mention just it was kinda creepy to watch. I feel like if they had wanted to go this way it would have been more fair for like 50/50% control or having a timeshare thing. After all it has been shown- in Thor Ragnarok, the comics, and cartoons- that Hulk is more than just rage. He’s more like instincts given form. He can even talk and wants to protect those he cares about. So I just don’t think what was done was the best for the character or for the relationship between the two sides. Also like I feel like it was unfair for the Bruce/ Natasha relationship. Which while I am not a fan of was introduced earlier on and I think needed to be handled better.

Thor:

Thor just pissed me off. I felt like it was so out of character that it was ridiculous. What they did to him doesn’t fit his character or situation at all. Becoming a recluse, frat boy, alcoholic and using his weight for tons of fat jokes felt in poor taste and completely OOC. Added to that having him turn to Valkyrie and go “you’re king now.” Was also unprecedented and just random. It felt like it was just a “let's tie this up fast and get it out of the way.” We had no previous evidence of Valkyrie having done anything leader like. When they showed up in New Asgard it looked like she could just be a fisherman or craftsperson. Not that she was a leader for the town. I feel like Thor would have been more the type to be out in the galaxy helping Captain Marvel than secluding himself in a house and becoming a drunkard. Or even leading his people, he had shown growth of that in Ragnarok and the characterization between that and Endgame was so different it was ridiculous.

Clint:

For the most part I agreed with how Clint was handled. Except for a couple main things, I think Natasha would have been out looking for him and found him faster. And I think he should have had a redemption arc. I understand they wanted him to reunite with his family but I feel like Clint needed the redemption more and would have been a better fit for sacrificing himself to get the Soul stone. I also still hate how much of Clint’s character was erased for the films and wish his disability was acknowledged. He was deaf and far sighted (I see better from afar) and I wish his character had been done more justice in general.

Natasha:

We now get into the “I’m really pissed off about this” section. Natasha. Oh where to start. First off I feel like the MCU in general has been extremely unfair to Natasha. I feel like she has been underused andher character has been pretty ignored. But she is very important to the dynamic in the original 6. She’s pretty much everyone’s best friend. And she was just basically brushed aside. And then in this film they go and have her sacrifice herself and then that's only acknowledged once when they return to the present. It was also kinda selfish because Clint had lost the rest of his family and then she goes and jumps and makes him lose the only person who is basically his sister. So he has to watch his last family member die and be unable to bring her back. Which is another issue I have. She deserved her own series of movies and now we will only ever get prequels. Also like in the comics you could bring people back out of the soul stone. Which it was confirmed that's where the souls sacrificed went into. They became controllers of the stone and could basically do a lot from inside and have come back before. And while this does introduce the idea of time travel it still felt like this was the end and that wouldn’t be used again.

Steve:

Mostly I just hate Steve’s ending. It felt very OOC and like brought up a bunch of inconsistencies in the universe.  It also kinda felt like the Russos didn’t watch AOU. In the end Steve says “Family, stability... The guy who wanted all that went in the ice 75 years ago. I think someone else came out." So the fact that they had him go back in time and end up married to Peggy was like ??? Not only did it ignore a lot, if not all, of Agent Carter. It then made no sense as to how he ended up back in our time in our timeline. If he marries Peggy in the past we wouldn’t have probably found him the same way/ time. And just it would create an alternate timeline. Plus he ended up kissing his own niece. Which, ew? Then he came back and was old- which isn’t how his aging worked in the comics at all. And he gave the shield to Sam. I think it would have made more sense for his character to give the shield to Bucky and Bucky to tell him no. Then leaving him to give it to Sam. I Also think it would have made more sense for him to just want to be a teacher at the compound or been incapacitated rather than become old.

Tony:

In general I kinda understand Tony’s ending the most. But I also really disagree with it. First he wouldn’t have done what he did in the last scene because as he said earlier in the film- “I have a family now. I can’t just give that all up.” And like that was the whole reason they decided to go with the plan they were going with. So that they would still have had the past 5 years progress. Then I just think they shouldn’t have killed him. There were tons of other ways for this to be an “ending” like they wanted without killing him. I think he should have become unable to leave a wheelchair or just unable to use the suit due to strain and, like Steve, passed it on. I think he should have dedicated his time to making better and better tech so that none of their protegees would die. I think he should have tutored them. But mostly I think he should have gotten to be a father to Harley, Peter, and Morgan. I think he should have gotten the happiness he deserved.

Plot points and inconsistencies

1. It's been 5 years and they suddenly bring back everyone who died in the snap. Which, like? No acknowledging all the issues with that? People who moved on from loved ones. The growth that would have happened in those 5 years. The mass PTSD caused by all this in the end. What happens if someone was snapped back into the same spot as another person? Or the other issues with half of the world's population suddenly coming back from nowhere.

2. Thanos dying by being snapped, while it made sense as a kind of justice for him having to experience the same as what everyone else did, was just anticlimactic.

3. Present! Nebula killing Past! Nebula

4. Past! Gamora suddenly disappearing in our time.

5. Nebula should have gotten to kill Thanos. She deserved it more than anyone else in the world.

6. Thanos still having the chautari army. Like even if he came from the past that would have been after Avengers 1 which would mean his army would have been, you know, dead?

7. For all the hype for Captain Marvel she kinda didn’t feel used enough? Like all the “Fury didn’t contact her until something MAJOR happened cus she's so OP and would be who we need to fix this” she was just kinda… there?

8. Strange effectively keeping Tony alive only for him to die.

In general I felt like Endgame was a poor attempt at “ending” the first arc of the Marvel movies. I also kinda didn’t feel like an ending was needed? Like yeah the actors want to do other things. But I’d have liked to see them appear in the rest of the films as the kinda Stan Lee cameo. Tony sipping coffee as something destructive happens outside his tower. Steve at the park sketching as Spider-man swings by fighting someone. Clint appearing at the end and being sassy to someone. Just the main 6 taking over Stan Lee’s cameos and continuing it. It wasn’t well done, and frankly didn’t make sense for the characters. Plus it left so many things unanswered and making no sense that it was just hella confusing.

In general it felt super rushed and disconnected from the original films. And looking back over most of the Russo’s films I’ve had issues with almost everything they have done. And while at points it seems they understand the characters it also just feels like they don’t. Plus I still have the huge issue with every singe Avengers movie being the Avengers just fighting and arguing until they work together. Like it was ok for the 1st one but can’t we have more scenes like the one in AOU in the tower at the party? Where they are friends and family and just joking around? Because that's what they are. And the largest number of fanfics is about that. I’ve read fanfics that understand these characters better than a lot of the directors. Its sad, and I don’t think I’ll ever get over it. This is the one Marvel movie I don’t think I’ll go see in theaters a second time. Because no, I didn’t enjoy it.

[dark-s1ayer-blog]

Tornado of Emotions (After the Storm Part 1)

SPOILER WARNING FOR LIFE IS STRANGE SEASON 1

I didn't realize a video game could impact me in the way this one has. I've been a gamer since I was in Elementary School, and it was just something to pass the time. Games back then, were like looking forward to Saturday morning cartoons, or the next big hollywood blockbuster to arrive in theatres. It was this adrenaline rush, this test of skill, hand-eye coordination, a way to get together and mess around with friends and family. But it was also an escape from a terrible situation.

My childhood was one of immense emotion, struggle and sadly, difficulty. My mother and father had divorced, I still have no memory of the actual moment, but it was something that troubled me growing up. But nothing could prepare me for the fact that my entire childhood was one of constant fear, feeling like I was stuck in some kind of suspense/thriller/horror film. A family member physically abused me. The person was dealing with their own difficulties, I can see that now, but at the time, to me, it had put me in fear for my life, constantly.

I was never safe. Or at least, I never felt safe. Even when I slept, it was in constant dread, fearing the next day. It didn't seem like I got any rest or relief, as my nightmares would indicate. School didn't make things better it seemed, due to my own difficulties with certain subjects like Math, or dealing with homework, but most of that was normal. And regretfully, so was the bullying. Yeah, I went through that too. Elementary School, Middle School and High School.

School wasn't all bad, though. With most of my family not really understanding, knowing, or seeing what was going on, school was one of my safe havens, which was an actual a surprise to me. I guess it was because of my friends. They became everything to me. An extended family of sorts. Recess was practically my favorite part of the school day, they were a light in the darkness.

I didn't leave and graduate Elementary school unscathed though. I finally cracked. I remember bits and pieces as I look back now. It was one of the first moments I had considered the unthinkable. I was in so much emotional pain, feeling like I could tell no one, fearing that my abuser would find out and either continuing the abuse or worse, kill me. I broke down and said the words in the middle of a class.

"I WANT TO DIE."

This is not something any person wants to hear. It doesn't matter, if you're a child, a teacher, a parent, whoever you are, no one should have to see it, let alone experience it. But I knew it was this one part of me finally breaking through so I could shout it out loud. It was my cry for help. And it was when I started getting professional help.

But as I got help, the problem itself still lingered. It was like we treated the symptoms but not the disease. I remember writing my first suicide note. It still pains me to think about how low I had sunk at that point. I was entering middle school, attempting to get help, but it just, didn't feel like things were getting better. People were beginning to distance themselves from me, and I felt even more isolated then.

I eventually moved out of my abuser's reach. I still remember how it affected my family when the truth came out. There was already trouble amongst them, this probably didn't make it better. But I felt like I was free for the first time in my life. I began seeing a new therapist, made it through middle school, and entered high school.

All of this came at a heavy price though. I thought that moving would mean I was free, I was safe, that I could move on. But like gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe, it stuck to me. My pain, the memories, the torment, it followed me. I was trying to figure out my life, school and deal with these issues, and again was being bullied in school all whilst dealing with everything else.

I had also given up a lot of friends in the process. Not by choice. I did attempt to reconnect, to hang onto them, but eventually the friends from my elementary school days were gone. But somehow, middle school all the way through high school, I made new ones. Yet again, I had that light in the darkness. I looked forward to every single moment with them, because like my other friends, it was like an extended family. No, they were indeed my family.

Now we come to where Life is Strange is connected to me. Any who read this may have already noticed the connections. To those who haven't played the game, it is about a thoughtful, empathetic teenage girl named Max who hopes to be a photographer. The story is about Max reconnecting with her best friend Chloe and solving a mystery. It also deals with numerous issues from suicide, bullying, grief, drug use, and numerous others.

I thought that all three experiences from four different schools (two different middle schools, due to moving) were difficult enough, but my past seemed it was never far behind. Whilst dealing with bullies at school, my stress, my anxiety, and my depression just grew. My friends were there, but I felt I couldn't really talk to them about this, and I afraid to lose another set of friends. I spent some of my free periods alone with my thoughts on days where those emotions were at their most troubling. In hindsight, not the best idea. On top of that, had at least two more moments where I had considered suicide yet again.

Therapy didn't seem to be helping, but then again, the only one I was talking to about any of this was my father. I could count on no one else. In truth, he was probably the real light I had needed in my darkest hours.

Chloe Price, Max's best friend in Life is Strange, is a defiant girl, one might say rebellious, who is quietly dealing with deep emotional trauma. She is different from the quiet and shy Max. I felt like I was seeing these variations, versions of myself when I experienced their story. The entire time, it was just one big trip through my own memories, my past and my bonds with others, especially my friends and family. For me, family has become one of my most important elements of my life.

Friends and family are supposed to be there for you when you need them, and vice versa. You might not always get along with them, but there is love, care, affection, and this unbreakable bond that can't really be compared with anything else. It took me some time to remember that. But they became a strength that carried me, or picked me up when I fell. It was a reminder: You are not alone.

I was fine with this game up until Episode Three. The ending, showing the consequences of our meddling with peoples' lives, their pasts, and time had an unforeseen effect. She saved Chloe's father from certain death, but at the cost of Chloe's health. Chloe was now in a wheelchair. And it was revealed she was dying a slow and painful death. As if all this wasn't enough to break me, after having gotten attached to Chloe and Max, Chloe then asks Max to end her life after an entire day of bonding.

I thought that seeing Chloe in that wheelchair was bad enough, that it had utterly shattered me, but this caused me to step back.

Saying goodbye to my friends over the years has been one thing, but I've seen more than my fair share of death and funerals in my life. On top of that, I have lost three grandparents and an uncle over the past two or so years. One my grandmothers, I saw during her final moments, it wasn't a pleasant sight. Loss isn't something I take easily, let alone lightly. And I hate to say this, but I do take it personally. It's hard not to.

Though as I write this, I realize now, why that scene with Chloe during that moment of incredible agony affected me so much. Do you let this loved one continue to suffer? Or do you take their life, even if it gives them peace? It may be a video game, but I could no longer treat this as such. It was starting to affect me deeply, emotionally and personally. Hell, you save her life countless times throughout the game! And the game is asking you to end her life!

I eventually continued with the game, and thanks to Max's special ability of rewinding time, she was able to get Chloe back. I was never so relieved to have a fictional character back in my life. But almost just as quickly as you got her back, by the end of the fourth episode, she was killed, and you are forced to watch as you are unable to stop it. For me, it was like watching some kind of car crash or tragedy in slow motion. You're in utter shock, disbelief, or this numbness as you can't believe what just happened. Much like when you're given the news of a death of a loved one.

The final episode shocked me again, as if the entire episode or the entire season of the game wasn't already an emotional roller coaster, or disorienting, they had one more blow to deliver. And it was big one. Throughout the game, you're shown visions of a Tornado coming to destroy the town in the game. It's more or less explained why at the end of the game, but it didn't make the choice at the end any easier. The choice simply put in front of you, as you and Chloe watch the Tornado about to destroy the town you spent the entire game in.

Sacrifice Chloe or Sacrifice the town.

What? I couldn't believe what I was reading and also hearing from Max and Chloe. This can't be happening. But it was. Have you ever made a mistake? Have you any regrets of doing something you shouldn't have? Who doesn't? And with the power to travel back in time, it's easy to undo that. But Max, like us, didn't think of the consequences of undoing that. Like you're unraveling something completely by pulling on a single thread. The butterfly effect at work.

Do you go back in time to stop the Tornado from ever happening, but in the process, let Chloe die? Or do you abandon an entire town full of innocent people, people you met, got to interact with and spend time with throughout the game, to save Chloe? For some gamers, it would be a simple push of a button. Each gamer is different. Gamers are people, after all, so each one reacts differently, maybe some go through the motions, play to test their skills, play to compete with others, play for the story, or any number of other reasons. For me, it used to be because it was simply fun and entertaining. But as I got older it became more about the experience, the characters and story. I became pickier about my games.

Life is Strange is no exception. In fact, it may be the first game that gave me serious pause because this wasn't a game to me anymore. It should've been, but the game had put me through my paces. It had tested my mind, my morals, my heart and my soul. I realized then, that it was the first game to affect me deeper than any game I had played before. I wasn't playing a game now, I was a decision involving peoples' lives. I hated it. Not the game, not the choices, not the developers, not the cast.

I hated having to choose. To be forced into one of the worst moments a person could ever have to be forced to deal with. It was far worse than the choice of having Chloe either hate me or die from obliging her request to let her die in peace instead of a slow death. You spent this entire game having Max and Chloe reconnect, while you're growing attached to the girls themselves. Chloe herself has numerous close calls, but you save her and your bond grows stronger. It was a constant reminder of my own bonds with friends and family.

It took me three freaking hours to make a choice. Because it wasn't an easy one. I treated it the way I would have if it was happening for real. If you were forced to choose to save someone you love (friends, family, take your pick) or save a town full of people, what would you have done? I hesitated. Again, this wasn't a game to me anymore. Part of me wish it had been, but it had taken me to somewhere I wasn't expecting. Now I had to choose. I chose to save the town.

Suffice it to say, I cried. I hated myself. Ever since episode three, the game had pushed me to places I hadn't expected, forced me to revisit good memories and bad and I was constantly being broken, put back together and broken again. It was rough. I know that's on me for taking it in a personal way, removing the fiction and putting myself in Max's shoes.

Going into that final episode of the first season, I thought the tough parts were behind me, like my past. As of almost two years ago, I forgave my abuser for what was done to me. I was moving forward in life. Sadly, had to move again, but it wasn't for like the reasons from before. Though I do try to keep in contact with my friends from high school. I still miss them.

That's why this affected me so deeply. Not just ending, but the entire game. I connected with it on such a personal level, forced to confront my own thoughts, feelings, past and memories that it was like I was right there beside Max and Chloe. Probably why I ended up caring about them so much, because I didn't want them to go through what I experienced. Yet again, I connected with Max, who was constantly trying to undo the past, the mistakes.

Sad to say, I suffered as Max did, but in a very different way. Whilst she was being physically pulled back and forth through time, I have been going through a more mental and psychological experience. Dreams and Nightmares have been putting me back in high school and for a long time I've mourned a childhood that I had wished had been different. To say that I have regret is an understatement. Same with letting go.

Saying goodbye, having to mourn, grieve, or lose someone, be they living or dead are utter agony to me. I realize now it may have been one of the lessons I needed to learn. As cool as time travel is, there's no going back. There's no fixing what happened. There's no undoing mistakes or past trauma. All you can do is move forward, make better decisions, heal (or in my case, do the damndest to try and fully heal) and live your life. I have to say goodbye to my past, to that chapter of my life, if I am to move on. If I don't, the butterfly effect will catch up with me, and I know where that goes.

Nostalgia is meant to be temporary. It's probably as close to time travel as we will ever get. We have the memories, the experiences, but we're not meant to take it any further than that. It's why time moves forward, like us. We're not going back.

It's time I did the same.

So with that I want to thank DONTNOD and their entire development team, the publishers Square Enix, Feral Interactive, and the Black Wing Foundation.

To the writers Christian Divine and Jean-Luc Cano, that is some of the best work I've ever experienced as a gamer, reader, writer and a person.

To the directors Raoul Barbet and Michel Koch, thank you for leading the story into somewhere surprising, unexpected, wonderful, terrifying, familiar, amazing, and every other word I can think of.

To the composer Jonathan Morali, although the story and characters were there, without your music to aid in the experience, it wouldn't be the same, thank you.

To the entire cast of the first season, incredible work.

Lastly, to the two leads, Hannah Telle and Ashly Burch, that was some of the best damn voice acting I've experienced. I've seen the directors' commentary, so I have seen what this project meant to you both. Definitely will be writing to you both again in the future.

To everyone I may have forgotten, to everyone involved with this game, and even to the fellow fans of this game, I love you and you are amazing. I have seen the impact this game has had on others, not just myself, and it was something I took into consideration before writing this. The subjects covered in the game might be uncomfortable and even difficult to deal with, but I hope anyone else dealing with these issues gets the help they need. It's one thing to see it in a book, film, tv show or game, it's another to experience it yourself.

The awards this game has received are more than well deserved.

I never expected this game, or any game for that matter to affect me, let alone help me, move forward in my life, but it has.

Thank you.

[sportashame]

Adventures in Lazytown (A Dads!AU Fic) - Chapter 4

Well I’m back on this, for better or worse. I’m thinking about changing the title, since I never really thought about it to begin with. If you have any suggestions chuck them my way. The same old content warnings for depictions of depression and disability, though less so in this chapter.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] 

Why am I like this? Don’t answer that.

Everything else came very naturally. I made an appointment with Steffi’s doctor and her physiotherapist to discuss the dancing and how she could best be supported in continuing it. We cleared the living room of everything breakable so she could have space to practice. 

We had a short but ultimately unconstructive discussion about lying; that it’s all very well when I do it, but she really ought to try not to. But the knot of dread which accompanied any thought of Steffi taking on physical challenge was loosening, perhaps even unwinding. And with it we unwound. She started talking in a way I’d never known her to talk before; having recently been privy to her thought processes largely through her Lazytown stories. She started, for want of a better term, to prattle. Her voice filled my ears, filled any room we shared with stories about dance training, how when she’d started she could barely bend her knees, and how her arms were weak and inflexible. Each story was accompanied by wild gesticulation and many examples of the moves described while I collected breakable objects in my arms and ducked flying crutches. And when she wasn’t talking about dancing she was talking about you.

You had arrived after summer last year, to replace a retiring P.E. teacher. When Principal Meanswell introduced you to the school, you did a backflip right then and there in the school hall, followed by some one-handed press-ups. Steffi was among those who struggled to pronounce your name; when I asked her to she turned pink and stared at the floor, finally muttering a word that sounded like ‘Ibuprofen’ and refusing to try it again. So Sportacus you became, and it had stuck to you like glue ever since. You were from Iceland. Your favourite food was apples. Your favourite colour was blue.

“Enough, Steffi. I need to concentrate.”

She was stood in the door of my study, leaning against the doorframe. She’d been telling me for perhaps the fifth time how you’d seen her watching your dance aerobics class in the gym on her late days and invited her to join in. How when she told you she wanted to be a dancer, you’d smiled so wide she thought you looked like the Cheshire Cat.

But now she’d fallen silent. That old silence.

“Why don’t you go and draw something?” I tried to modify. She nodded, closed the door and scuttled off. I went back to my laptop. A stern e-mail about my research grant had scared me back to the book I started 6 years ago and for the last week I’d been ploughing through years of neglected research notes, trying to make sense of the working processes of a man I barely recognised. My brain - much like the rest of me - had become a soft, under-exercised ball of pastry.

And of course, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. This is what I mean. Why am I like this? In some ways it takes a great deal of effort to really double down on those nasty intrusive thoughts, and as flabby and useless as my torpor had left my academic mind, my brain’s centre for manufacturing problems probably had muscles bigger than yours. Because in the six days since we’d met, I’d managed to convince myself that you were an arrogant, swaggering, blowhard jock who I didn’t like at all.

It didn’t happen immediately. I listened hungrily at first to the details about you that Steffi had memorised. I would listen to her talk, and flex my fingers as a phantom crackle of electricity buzzed through them at the memory of your handshake. I sat up in my chair at night, unable to sleep and I thought about you. I ran through and through our short conversation, bringing to mind your voice, your inflection, your blue eyes. I dissected the lifting feeling in my chest until my body felt like an abstract entity of aches and rushes. I thought about your hands, and your lips and the shape of your shoulders until quite suddenly a shame descended over me so profound that I thought I was going to vomit. I paced around the ground floor at night. Who did you think you were? Steffi was enamoured of you, but I wasn’t a little girl, I could see through your charm. Just another musclebound meathead who think he knows what’s best for everyone. Who thinks he knows what’s best for my family. Giving dancing lessons in secret. Not even a phonecall to the parent. Such presumption. Such arrogance.

It was a couple of hours later, when my eyes were crossing from trying to concentrate on this incomprehensible draft and I decided to give this up for now and go and make dinner, that I found Steffi had left me a gift. It was lying outside my study; the newest issue of ‘Adventures in Lazytown’. The first issue I had received since finding out that Sportacus was not entirely a figment of my daughter’s imagination. Suddenly the whole thing felt a little less wholesome. Why had she begun writing about him? Why did she specifically think that I needed to read about him? I brought the pages inside and started reading. Her drawing was getting so good. The simple earnest sweetness of Lazytown filled me as before and my suspicion melted. These were just stories, no matter what they were inspired by, this Sportacus might as well have been a figment of Steffi’s imagination for all he could possible have in common with the man I met six days ago. People like Sportacus don’t exist, and that jumping Icelander was no elf, he had a real name (albeit one no human tongue could pronounce) and a house and probably a wife. He was no more a genuine part of our lives than any other cartoon character Steffi watched on a Saturday morning. I had just about rationalised the whole thing away when I turned the last page.

My whole face suddenly superheated. A full-page illustration accompanied the conclusion of the story. Sportacus grinning a broad grin while I (well, not me, my avatar I suppose) was cradled in his arms in an unmistakable bridal lift. The kids from the story were all around, laughing and smiling and waving their arms, and Steffi’s alter-ego, standing unsupported, looked nothing short of delighted.

I put the pages down, my heart beating double time. Was this… her plan? No. it was an insane idea. Depressive people often get the idea that there’s a conspiracy going on around them, I just hadn’t been getting out enough lately. My insomnia and fixation had been allowing spiders and dustballs to creep back into my brain…

… But there it was! In full colour; blue and purple. Was Steffi window-shopping for a new parent? Had she been presenting these stories to me as a sort of advertisement for her preferred brand of stepfather, like children leaving magazine cuttings around of toys they want for Christmas? Was this why she was always talking to me about you? Telling me what you liked and disliked. It wasn’t so crazy. While I’d not had a relationship since her mother, I had allowed myself to be talked into being set up a couple of times, usually by my feckless brother with one of his skeezy friends. All male. We’d never discussed this sort of thing but she was a smart kid. Maybe I should have; they say you’ve got to be honest with children, present the world to them as it is and allow them to make up their own minds about it. To be honest, conversations about Papa’s jumbled up excuse for a sexuality didn’t figure high in my priorities. It was partly procrastination and partly a worry that she wouldn’t understand. I mean, I didn’t really understand, so asking her to would be unreasonable. And I didn’t want her to feel like my relationship with her mother had been anything less than the profound, perfect thing that it was. I was going to love and miss Ella for the rest of my life. I was probably never going to love another woman.

What’s that line from that play about the English teacher? “I’m a one-woman man and I’ve had mine, thank god.”

I felt suddenly sorry for her. If this was what she was pinning her hopes on, she was certain to be disappointed. Obviously as a child she couldn’t be expected to understand how these things worked. That handsome, young P.E. teachers generally have their own lives. That even if they didn’t, it was highly unlikely that reclusive, doughy academics would be their type. That even if they were, he certainly wasn’t my type. What would we talk about? Football? Protein powder? Poor kid, I thought, looking back at the drawing. The three of us were in the centre of the page, looking like a happy family. Poor kid.

I felt a pressure on my back, a jolt in my stomach and for a moment I could visualise it perfectly. Your arms firm beneath me, your body warm against mine, your face inches away, my hand on the nape of your neck. I stuffed the picture in a drawer. This was madness. I was in such a state of guilty nervous tension for the rest of the evening that I burned the chicken nuggets. Steffi turned her nose up at them and helped herself to carrots from the fridge. There you were again. Breaking into my house. Into my life. Tomorrow I would have to talk to you when I picked Steffi up from dance practice. Maybe then I could lay out some ground rules. Put you in your place, and show Steffi that whatever ideas she had about her teacher and me, they couldn’t be further from the mark.

I wished you’d never come here. I wished you’d just go away forever.