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nofingjustaninchident · 2 months ago

Text

ᯓ★ i hate you more pt.3

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

pairing jason grace x roman!reader

summary well, he should be dead, and she’d gladly kill him

warnings probably cursing, third person writing

now listening to bad blood by taylor swift

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Chiron invited them inside, sending Drew back to her cabin. y/n was glad when the girl walked away - her excessive touchiness with Jason had been grating on her nerves, as was the fact that she didn't even understand why it pissed her off so much.

Especially because it shouldn’t, since they apparently hated each other so much.

"Follow me," the centaur said. "We have lemonade."

Grapevines covered the walls of the living room, running across the ceiling as well. y/n wasn't sure how they were able to grow inside, especially given the season, but they were leafy green and bursting with bunches of red grapes.

The girl looked up at a stuffed leopard's head hung above the fireplace, so real-looking that its eyes seemed to move. It snarled at Jason, and she felt him nearly jump out of his skin next to her.

“For the gods’ sake-” He muttered under his breath and y/n had to stop herself from snickering.

"Now, Seymour," Chiron chided. "Jason is a friend. Behave yourself."

Chiron threw a sausage to the leopard, who snatched it up and licked his lips. "You must excuse the decor," Chiron said. "All this was a parting gift from our old director before he was recalled to Mount Olympus. He thought it would help us remember him. Mr. D has a strange sense of humor."

"Mr. D," Jason said. "Dionysus?"

"Mhm." Chiron poured three glasses of lemonade, though his hands seemed to tremble slightly. He and Jason carried on a conversation about the old camp director and Seymour's origins, y/n watching in silence. She could tell that Chiron was wary of her as well, though he hadn't recognized her the way he recognized Jason. She supposed that was a good thing, giving the conditions - he had said Jason was supposed to be dead.

"So, Jason, y/n," Chiron said. "Would you mind telling me – ah - where you're from?"

"I wish we knew," Jason sighed. “I mean, i don’t. Maybe she does and just don’t want to tell anyone.”

That earnt him a smack in the arm, which was nothing but passive-aggressive.

y/n let Jason tell the story, only chiming in when he left out a detail or she needed to speak from her own experience. Chiron didn't react aside from nodding encouragingly for either of them to continue.

When Jason was done, Chiron took a sip of his lemonade. "You only remember each other?" he asked for clarification.

Y/n nodded. "Sadly, yes. Just names, but still." she muttered, looking over at Jason briefly. "Everything else is... blank."

"I see," Chiron said. "Well, you must have questions for me."

"I have one," y/n spoke up. "Any reason in particular those... naiads? Is that what they're called? Is there a reason they talked to me or...?”

Chiron regarded her with inquisitive eyes. "They talked to you?"

y/n nodded. "Yeah, one of them just... stood – can i say stood if they’re underwater? Anyway, one of them stood there and told me to just breathe." She tried to push away the memory of the human-like thing telling her to take a breath underwater. "Is that... normal?"

"No," Chiron confessed. "That's highly unusual - naiads are typically friendly, especially the ones in the canoe lake, but they don’t usually talk. Well, at least, not that anyone could understand, anyway. The only person they talked to was...”

With his pause, y/n looked expectantly at him. “The only person they talked was..?” And something Annabeth said came up to her. “Was it that guy that Annabeth talked about? Uh- Percy, right?”

Chiron’s expression got somewhat darker, but he managed to cover it up. “Yes, Percy. He's one of our oldest campers now, but he’s missing.”

“Oh.” y/n muttered. “Sorry.”

“It’s no problem, child.” Chiron assured. “It wasn’t your fault.”

But what if it was?

"In any case, that indeed is strange," Chiron said quietly. "I will have a talk with them. Until then, it may be best to steer clear of the lake."

"That won't be a problem," y/n muttered.

"Do you have any other questions?" Chiron asked.

"Uh, yeah," Jason admitted. "What did you mean when you said I should be dead?"

Chiron studied him with concern. "Do either of you know what the marks on your arms mean? The color of your shirt, Jason? Do you remember anything?"

Jason shook his head. "No, nothing," Jason said.

"Do you know where you are?" Chiron asked. "Do you understand what this place is, who I am?"

"You're Chiron the centaur," Jason said. "I'm guessing you're the same one from the old stories, who used to train heroes like Heracles."

"And this is a camp for demigods," y/n said, "children of the Olympian gods."

"So, you believe those gods still exist?" Chiron asked.

"Yes," Jason answered immediately. y/n felt the same confidence, though she didn't know where it came from. "I mean, I don't think we should worship them or sacrifice chickens to them or anything, but they're still around because they're a powerful part of civilization. They move from country to country as the center of power shifts - like they moved from Ancient Greece to Rome."

"I couldn't have said it better." Something in Chiron's voice had changed. "So, you already know the gods are real. You have both already been claimed, haven't you?"

"Maybe," Jason answered.

"We can't remember," y/n said.

The leopard on the wall snarled, and Chiron studied them for a moment, waiting. y/n realized after a moment that Chiron had switched to another language, and she and Jason understood it fluently.

"Quis erat-" Jason faltered, as if the language was automatic. "What was that?"

"You know Latin," Chiron observed. "Most demigods recognize a few phrases, of course. It's in their blood, but not as much as Ancient Greek. None can speak Latin fluently without practice."

y/n frowned, trying to wrap her brain around the fact that she could speak Latin, of all languages. Why couldn’t it be french, german, maybe? It felt so familiar on her tongue as she spoke it, the same as in her ears when Jason and Chiron did.

"I taught your namesake, you know - the original Jason," Chiron said. "He had a hard path. I've seen many heroes come and go. Occasionally, they have happy endings. Mostly, they don't. It breaks my heart, like losing a child every time one of my pupils dies. But you two are unlike any pupils I've ever taught. Your presence here could be a disaster."

"Thanks," Jason muttered. "You must be an inspiring teacher."

"You should look into motivational speaking if you get bored here," y/n grumbled.

Chiron sighed quietly. "I am sorry. But it's true. I had hoped after Percy's succeeded in the Titan War and saved Mount Olympus, we might have some peace. I might be able to enjoy one final triumph, a happy ending, and perhaps retire quietly. I should have known better. The last chapter approaches, just as it did before. The worst is yet to come."

A heavy blanket of gloom seemed to rest over the entire room.

"Okay," Jason said. "So - last chapter, happened before, worst yet to come. Sounds fun, but can we get back to the part where I'm supposed to be dead? I don't like that part."

“Why not?” y/n asked, rolling her eyes as she looked at him with annoyance clear on her eyes. “I like it very much. Sounds appealing, doesn’t it?” It was as if the tease just had to leave her. She didn’t understand where all that came from.

“Oh, fuck off for a moment.” He grumbled and flipped her off.

"I'm afraid I can't explain, my boy. I swore on the River Styx and on all things sacred that I would never..." Chiron frowned. "But you're both here, a violation of the same oath. That, too, should not be possible. I don't understand. Who would've done such a thing? Who-"

Seymour howled, his mouth freezing halfway. The fire stopped crackling, its flames hardening like red glass.

Everything seemed to just... stop.

"Chiron?" Jason asked. "What's going-"

Chiron was frozen, too. Jason and y/n stood up, but Chiron's eyes didn't waver. His mouth was open mid-sentence, and he sat there, not blinking or even breathing from the looks of it.

"Tell me you're seeing this, too," Jason whispered, reaching for y/n’s hand instinctively.

She squeezed it tightly, not even noticing at first. She glanced down at it, and decided to stay holding it. It was the only sign that they both weren’t crazy. "Frozen centaur? Yeah, I see it."

Jason, a voice spoke. y/n.

A dark mist poured from Seymour's mouth. Storm spirits, she thought, her free hand going to her pocket and taking her key out. She and Jason both summoned their weapons.

The mist shaped itself into a woman in black robes.

Her face was hooded, but her eyes glowed in the darkness. Over her shoulders was a goat-skin cloak, falling down her back and brushing the floor. y/n recognized the cloak for some reason, and she knew somehow that it was important - that it was much more than a strange fashion choice.

Would you attack your patron, Jason? the woman chided. Her voice seemed to echo in y/n’s mind, bypassing her ears entirely. Lower your swords. The two of you.

"Who are you?" Jason demanded. "How did you—?"

Our time is limited. My prison grows stronger by the hour. It took me a full month to gather enough energy to work even the smallest magic through its bonds. I've managed to bring you two here, but now I have little time left, and even less power. This may be the last time I can speak to either of you.

"You're in prison?" Jason questioned, still not lowering his sword. "Look, I don't know you, and you're not my patron."

You know me, the woman insisted. I have known you since your birth, Jason.

"I don't remember," Jason said. "I don't remember anything."

No, you don't, she agreed. Neither of you do. That was also necessary. Long ago, Jason, your father gave me your life as a gift to placate my anger. He named you Jason, after my favorite mortal. You belong to me, Jason. And unfortunately, she’s way too useful to be left behind.

"Hey!” y/n protested.

"Whoa," Jason said, ignoring her completely. Something told y/n that this was something he often did. "I don't belong to anyone."

Now is the time to pay your debt, she said. Find my prison. The girl has the key to unlock me. Free me, or their king will rise from the earth, and I will be destroyed. You will never retrieve your memories.

"You stole our memories?" y/n asked, her eyes narrowing at the hooded woman. "And you want us to help you?"

You have until sunset on the solstice. Four short days. Do not fail me.

The dark woman dissolved, the mist curling into Seymour's mouth.

Time unfroze. Seymour's howl tapered off into a cough. The fire crackled to life and Chiron continued,

"—would dare to bring you here?"

"My guess is the lady in the mist," y/n muttered.

Chiron looked up at them in surprise. "Weren't you just sitting... why are your swords drawn?"

"I hate to tell you this," Jason said, "but I think your leopard just ate a goddess."

He proceeded to Chiron what had happened when time froze.

"Oh, dear," Chiron murmured. "That does explain a lot."

"It does?" y/n asked. "Care to fill us in?"

"Please," Jason added.

Before Chiron could say anything else, the front door to the Big House blew open and Annabeth and another girl, a redhead, burst in, dragging an unconscious Piper between them.

"What happened?" y/n asked, rushing over to them with Jason close behind, both of their swords abandoned on the coffee table. "What's wrong with her?"

"Hera's cabin," Annabeth gasped, like they'd run all the way to the house. "Vision. Bad."

The redhead looked up, and y/n saw tears on her cheeks. "I..." She gulped. "I think I may have killed her."

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The redhead – who, later, y/n discovered to be named Rachel Dare – had not, in fact, killed Piper. She was still breathing, though she couldn't seem to wake up.

Ophelia didn't like the sight of the girl so pale and sickly, as if Hades himself had come up to the mortal world to take away her soul but forgot to do so. y/n was positive she didn't know the girl, not like she knew Jason, but they had survived a battle with storm spirits and a chariot crash within the span of just a few hours - things like that bonded people.

Chiron put his hand on Piper's forehead, grimacing.

"Her mind is in a fragile state. Rachel, what happened?"

Rachel shook her head slightly. "I wish I knew," she said. "As soon as I got to camp, I had a premonition about Hera's cabin. I went inside. Annabeth and Piper came in while I was there. We talked, and then- I just blanked out. Annabeth said I spoke in a different voice."

"A prophecy?" Chiron asked.

"No. The spirit of Delphi comes from within. I know how that feels. This is like long distance, a power trying to speak through me."

Annabeth ran into the room carrying a leather pouch.

She knelt next to Piper. "Chiron, what happened back there - I've never seen anything like it. I've heard Rachel's prophecy voice. This was different. She sounded like an older woman. She grabbed Piper's shoulders and told her-"

"To free her from a prison?" Jason offered, looking at y/n with a grimace. The latter was still staring at the girl laid down in front of her, wondering what she could do to help – or rather, if she could really do anything to help.

Annabeth stared at him. "How did you know that?"

Chiron made a strange three-fingered gesture over his heart, like a ward against evil. y/n tried to ignore the unsettling feeling it gave her. "Jason, y/n, tell them. Annabeth, the medicine bag, please."

Chiron trickled drops from a medicine vial into Piper's mouth as Jason explained the vision he and y/n had witnessed of the woman who claimed to be Jason's patron.

"Does this happen often?" y/n chimed in when he was finished talking. "Supernatural phone calls from convicts demanding you bust them out of jail?"

"Patron," Annabeth said, looking at Jason with a frown. "Not your godly parent?"

"No, she said patron. She also said my dad had given her my life," Jason said.

Annabeth's frown deepened. "I've never heard of anything like that before. You said the storm spirit on the skywalk - he claimed to be working for some mistress who was giving him orders, right? Could it be this woman you saw, messing with you?"

"I don't think so," Jason said. "If she was my enemy, why would she be asking for my help? She's imprisoned. She's worried about some enemy getting more powerful. Something about a king rising from the earth on the solstice-"

Annabeth looked at Chiron, her face losing its color.

"Not Kronos. Please tell me it's not that."

Chiron was quiet for a moment, checking Piper's pulse before he finally answered, "It is not Kronos. That threat is ended. But..."

"But what?" Annabeth asked.

Chiron closed his medicine bag. "Piper needs rest. We should discuss this later."

"Or now," y/n said with a frown. "You said the greatest threat was coming. The last chapter?"

"You can't possibly mean something worse than an army of Titans, right?" Jason asked.

"Oh," Rachel said, her voice small. "Oh, dear. The woman was Hera. Of course. Her cabin, her voice. She showed herself to Jason and y/n at the same moment."

"Hera?" Annabeth looked downright murderous. "She took you over? She did this to Piper?"

"I think Rachel's right," Jason said. "The woman did seem like a goddess. And she wore this- this goatskin cloak. That's the symbol of Juno, isn't it?"

"It is?" Annabeth scowled. "I've never heard that."

Chiron nodded. "Of Juno, Hera's Roman aspect, in her most warlike state. The goatskin cloak was a symbol of the Roman soldier."

"So, Hera is imprisoned?" Rachel asked. "Who could do that to the queen of the gods?"

Annabeth crossed her arms. "Well, whoever they are, maybe we should thank them. If they can shut up Hera-"

"Annabeth," Chiron warned, "she is still one of the Olympians. In many ways, she is the glue that holds the gods' family together. If she truly has been imprisoned and is in danger of destruction, this could shake the foundations of the world. It could unravel the stability of Olympus, which is never great even in the best of times. And if Hera has asked Jason and y/n for help-"

"Fine," Annabeth grumbled. "Well, we know Titans can capture a god, right? Atlas captured Artemis a few years ago. And in the old stories, the gods captured each other in traps all the time. But something worse than a Titan...?"

"Hera said she'd been trying to break through her prison bonds for a month," Jason said.

"Which is how long Olympus has been closed," Annabeth said. "So, the gods must know something bad is going on."

Jason sighed, a look of frustration on his face. "But why use her energy to send y/n and me here?" he asked. "She wiped our memories, plopped us into the Wilderness School field trip, and sent you a dream vision to come pick us up. Why are we so important? Why not just send up an emergency flare to the other gods - let them know where she is so they can bust her out?"

"The gods need heroes to do their will down here on earth," Rachel said. "That's right, isn't it? Their fates are always intertwined with demigods."

"That's true," Annabeth said, "but Jason's got a point. Why them? Why take their memories?"

"I'd like to know that myself," y/n muttered.

"Piper's involved somehow," Rachel said. "Hera sent her the same message- Free me. And, Annabeth, this must have something to do with Percy's disappearance."

Annabeth looked at Chiron, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Why are you so quiet, Chiron? What is it we're facing?"

Chiron looked as if he'd aged ten years in a matter of minutes. "My dear, in this, I cannot help you. I am so sorry."

Annabeth blinked. "You've never... you've never kept information from me. Even the last Great Prophecy-"

"I will be in my office," Chiron announced, his voice heavy. "I need some time to think before dinner. Rachel, will you watch the girl? Call Argus to bring her to the infirmary, if you'd like. And Annabeth, you should speak with Jason and y/n. Tell them about- about the Greek and Roman gods."

"But..."

Chiron turned away, heading out of the room and down the hallway. Annabeth muttered something in Greek that y/n suspected wasn't too kind toward centaurs.

"I'm sorry," Jason said. "I think us being here - I don't know. We've messed things up coming to the camp, somehow. Chiron said he'd sworn an oath and couldn't talk about it."

y/n frowned, wanting to add that she definitely hadn’t asked to come to the camp, but she bit her tongue - it wasn't the time.

"What oath?" Annabeth demanded. "I've never seen him act this way. And why would he tell me to talk to you about the gods..." Her voice trailed off, looking at the two gold swords lying on the coffee table. She touched Jason's gingerly, like it might be hot. "Are these gold? Do you remember where you got it?"

y/n shook her head, Jason doing the same. "We don't remember anything," she said.

Annabeth nodded like she'd come up with a rather desperate plan. "If Chiron won't help, we'll need to figure things out ourselves. Which means... Cabin Fifteen. Rachel, you'll keep an eye on Piper?"

"Sure," Rachel promised. "Good luck, you three."

"Hold on," Jason said. "What's in Cabin Fifteen?"

Annabeth stood. "Maybe a way to get your memories back."

TAGLIST @maybxlle @sunshine-of-ur-life @liviessun @bellamysnatblida @mp-littlebit @cinemaconrad @eaterof-concrete

#ᯓ★ all my love #jason grace #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #pjo #heroes of olympus x reader #jason grace x reader #jason grace x you #jason grace x y/n #⛧° i hate you more.#jason grace series #jason grace fanfic

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arachnoia · 1 year ago

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SOL HEAR ME OUT.

READER READING SOME TYPE OF SMUT OR LIKE FIFTY SHADES OF GREY SHIT AND MIGUEL FINDS OUT AND SEES... 😳😳

oh my, anon

i’ve also never read that series but like that’s such a good ask.

tags- nsfw/ some parts gon sound off but that’s a part of the story, jealous miguel??

—

You bit your lip and kept a steady focus on your tablet, processing each and every detail of the page you were reading. You pressed your legs together as you sat on the window sill of your shared apartment with your boyfriend.

You were reading a web series recommendation from Jessica Drew, who noticed you needed to read something exciting. According to her, you looked “in need of something spicy” or whatever that meant.

Exciting was a very interesting word to describe exactly what you were reading.

I moaned as I felt his throbbing tip tease my swollen clit from my panties.

“Take it off,” he said, his beautiful green eyes piercing through me, sending me even more over the edge as he kissed my neck.

“My god…”

You had gotten invested, reading each chapter precisely to take everything in. It was a good series with a very interesting plot line.

“Ya llegue, amor.”

“Uh huh…Hi, love.”

You most have been reading immensely to not notice your boyfriend open the door. More so when Miguel walks up to you and snatches your tablet, your eyes widening in fear. As much as you tell your boyfriend everything, this new interest should be kept secret.

A secret that’s about to be found out.

“What’s this?”

“Give it back, Miguel!”

You tried to grab it from him until his arms started blocking you and he raised it up with his right arm, “What is it?”

You furrowed your eyebrows and slinged some web to get it back, “Told you to give it back, O’Hara.”

He widened his eyes at what you said, “O’Hara?”

You turned around whilst gripping the tablet hard so he wouldn’t think to use his webs too. His face hardened and his lips were slightly pouted, fueling your want to tease him, “What about it, Miguelito? Why the face?”

His expression turned into one of annoyance as he shot at your tablet, “Porqué no te callas, Y/L/N. Let me see what you’re-”

He glanced at the bright screen and stopped to see what it read, which was showcasing a descriptive smut scene in all its glory.

“Take it off, he said, his beautiful green eyes piercing through me, sending me even more over the edge as he kissed my- Baby, I didn’t know you were into that…” He looked over at you with a dark smirk, everything he said dripping with sarcasm.

He walked over, making you bump into the kitchen counter. He snaked his right arm around your waist as he lifted your chin up to look at him with his left, “Is that what you want, baby?”

You gazed up at him, standing tall at his literal 6’9 height. You just stared at his lips, how full they looks and his fangs brushing on them as he spoke. The way he spoke too just sends you over the edge, having your heart beating faster.

“Me estas escuchando?”

You just nodded in a daze and smiled stupidly, “Of course, baby. I love listening-”

“Cállate”

It took you in such a state of shock as Miguel kissed you ever so passionately, his hands roaming your body as your legs became intertwined at his waist while you sat at the counter for balance.

“So querida, I hope you listen when I tell you to strip. Right now.”

You looked away and bit your lip, taking off your top and throwing it away from your already aroused figure. It wasn’t much but Miguel already looked like he wanted to devour you. The way he looked at you, his crimson red eyes piercing through you made you want to come already. He helped you by taking off your pants, only leaving you in your light blue panties.

"Chinga..." He muttered and smiled as he rubbed on your clit, earring a few breathless moans from you.

He turned off his suit and stroked his erected dick, already showing a milky ring of precum around his swollen tip.

“Vas a ver…I’m better than whatever book you’re reading. Or should I not procede?” He didn’t even have to ask as you nodded vigorously, having a need for him to fuck you stupid.

You gasped a bit as you felt his tip entering, “Fuck…Miguel.”

You felt your eyes roll as he started to insert his entire length in you, making you grip at the marble counter as it stretched you out. You felt your mouth go slightly agape as he thrusted with such force that it left you speechless.

“I’m gonna show you..Fuck!..right now…that whatever you’re reading…”

He leaned in closer to your face, “Is nothing compared to to how I can make you feel…”

He started caressing it gently in contrast to his rough thrusts.

Same thrusts that made it hard to actually say anything but look at him and his smug face as he knows only he could make you like this.

#miguel o'hara #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel ohara #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x reader

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therightrighthand · 27 days ago

Text

SCP-8883

SCP-8883 // Ketter Class / Containment Breach // ZK-Class Reality Failure Scenario // 'Goldchild' Protocall in effect

--------

"Greetings, my name is Doctor ██████ from the ███ ██████ ██ department of the SCP Foundation, universe designation ██ ████ ███ ███ ███.

If you have received this documentation, it means SCP-████ has successfully entered your reality to deliver this message to an SCP Foundation member or an organisation of a similar kind. I guess, greetings from across the multiverse [Chuckle] ... anyway.

Sadly, this message is not one of the good tidings but a warning of an anomaly we have designated in our universe as SCP-8883, which has developed as a potential Keter Class threat (Uncontainable depending on your classification system) or invoked a ZK-Class Scenario (Reality has broken down and our end is imminent).

In the event this does happen, we have enacted the 'Godchild protocol', where we reach out to known neighbouring universes that have a high probability of having their own SCP-8883. The goal is to share our findings and research on SCP-8883 so that you may be ready for the coming threat.

If it happens, I mean. This documentation is merely a precaution for something that hasn't even happened yet, so it may just be a waste of time-" [REDACTED] "This documentation will come in two parts, Pre and Post ZK-Class Scenario so there is ample time to properly per pair our findings before it might be 'too late'.

PRE - ZK

"SCP-8883 is a young female girl, (as of █████) around 25 years old, though her age and identity may vary. There is nothing overly anomalous about SCP-8883. In her un-interfered state, she is just a normal human. What allocates her as an anomalous SCP is that she will one day become god, or a god, so to speak. We discovered this during a fact-finding mission with SCP-████ that uncovered this supposed proficy they referred to as the 'Sirpyn Paradox'. It is believed that SCP-8883 will, in some nondescript way, develop into an entity so strong it cannot reside within the walls of reality.

The details on how or when this happened were not provided, but we believed her to be relatively safe. What drew our attention was our attempt to apprehend SCP-8883, and various anomalies interfered with the process. There were 15 attempts to bring her in, and over 48 recorded anomalies one could describe as 'godly intervention'. Flat tyres, floods, lottery wins, sickness, pregnancy, even a meteor destroying a highway. To many around SCP-8883 to be a coincidence.

It's at this point we humoured the theory (now proven) that their future god-self (designated SCP-8883-B) is manipulating fate to stop our efforts. Interestingly, this has only ever been the case in regard to capture; we've never been stopped when our operatives have engaged with SCP-8883 undercover just to 'talk'. We surmised that direct capture of SCP-8883 was in conflict with their 'fate', leading them to become SCP-8883-B, so they intervened. Meaning we had to get creative.

In the end, we had to use SCP-████ to create models, based on the probability, to predict a course of action that would allow us to secure SCP-8883 that would not interfere with their fate. This presented us with an interesting possibility, how much can SCP-8883-B intervene, and how far can we force their intervention?

With the approval of ██████ we orchestrated a series of tests. The first test gave us obvious results, harmless intervention, but by using the probability modules, we were able to, in a sense, corner SCP-8883's fate to a full manifestation of SCP-8883-B and aggressive confrontation. The only visual confirmation we can conform from SCP-8883-B, which hasn't led to an immediate brain aneurysm, is a close likeness to SCP-8883 in shape and form, with a face covered in shadow and piercing green eyes.

With this discovery, we're putting together a proposal to utilise this incredible opportunity. We have the power of a god-level SCP at our disposal, one who is inert and who we can contain and control through predictive model data. If their abilities is as strong as we believe it is, we can use SCP-8883 to destroy other SCP threats.

It's all very exciting!"

POST - ZK

"Mother of god ... what have we done ... W-what have I done ... I hope there are enough analogies about playing god- or tempting fate in your universe ... clearly there wasn't enough in ours" [REDACTED]

"As theorised ... SCP-8883 has been elevated to a Ketter Class SCP, a ZK-Scenario is in effect, and Protocol Godchild has been initiated... I only wish I had more time to better compose myself ... or even amend my last fucking entry- I.... fuck. god I can't" [REDACTED]

"As I mentioned at the start of this documentation, the Godchild Protocol has come into effect and you have received this warning that SCP-8883 has caused a Reality Failure Scenario.

Before I carry on... whoever you are, you must stop this recording IMMEDIATELY and escalate this to the highest level of Authority. If you are part of a SCP Foundation, then this must be taken to The Administrator, or at the very least, The Council... otherwise, you pose a risk not only to your own life but to your universe's too"

"........................................"

"Ok ... if I am talking directly to who I think I am ... kill the person who handed you this documentation, them, and anyone who has any knowledge of this information being passed to you. As we speak, my reality is falling apart because of the information in this document. Whilst we could not contain SCP-8883 we could prevent it, by Leaving. Her. Alone. By knowing someone's fate, you risk intervening with it, and intervened with Del- erm, SCP-8883's fate led to our demise.... I ask- no, BEG you, destroy this documentation, stop the recording now and erase everything. Let them live their lives untested and let fate take its course...

"........................................"

"If you're still listening ... I hope you know what you're doing and the risks with this information. Know, I'm only sharing this to appease curiosity, so you do not give into the same temptation we-.... I did...

After discovering we could control SCP-8883-B's focus, we began to escalate our testing to harvest residual energy created by SCP-8883-B and eventually use them as a weapon. We found we could manipulate SCP-8883-B to destroy other SCP's. I'm not going to list each SCP, but- we had a 100% success rate, and we were able to remove over 80% of our most hostile SCPs. They were everything we ever wanted. And with SCP-████ models the risk was next to 0.

However...

SCP-████ was unable to account for a variable we had no measurement for. Put my fucking trust in that AI-" [REDACTED] "It seemed that every time we coached SCP-8883-B into acting on our behalf, we frayed the fabric of time and space ... like running a blade across a rope, slowly eroding its threads until it eventually snapped.

That's when everything fell apart and SCP-8883 entered a ... I don't know what to call it, demi-god state? A defense mechanism? Whatever- SCP-8883-C, let's just call it that... We've tried to capture as much footage as we could, but we lost every power station across the globe the second shit hit the fan. Any and all attempts to stop SCP-8883-C were met with the same effect, immediate destruction on a cellular level. We don't even have any SCPs to throw at it to slow her down ... But that's only the tip of the iceberg, as SCP-8883-C has weaponised SCP-8883-B against us in a form we've not seen before ... some sort of giant lizard entity the size of manhattan... Apparently, you can see it's destructive trail from space...

The crippling blow wasn't the girl or her knock-off Godzilla, but the sheer power emitting from the two of them that began to tear space and time apart. Past and future are starting to crumble into one another as SCP-8883-C's slow destructive path seems to be echoed simultaneously in every moment in time, all at once.

The effects are ... indescribable ... yesterday I shared a cup of tea with my grandfather, who's been dead for 8 years ... and an hour ago, I rang up my grandson and told him I loved him ... I don't even have a family- or I won't yet , or ... ever will? ... and then there are parts of time that have been completely eviscerated... members of staff have even began to forget their names...

Everything is falling apart...

Now the responsibility lies on your shoulders. You must carry on the Godchild protocol. Not only do I know there is an SCP-8883 in your universe, but in every conceivable universe. The Sirpyn Paradox isn't just a rare freak anomaly, it is a FACT. And if it cannot be contained or destroyed, then it must be maintained...

Gods speed..."

[MESSAGE END]

-------- The winner of this month's Del-veres vote! SCP Foundation Del! I was really looking forward to seeing how this could work because I figure the SCP Foundation would be the only group able to contain/utilise the Sirpyn Paradox, or their universe's Del. Or at least for so long

-- Follow my socials and art discord on my Link.tree Do not use, repost or claim (rp) my art/character Art © @The-Red-Right-Hand

#my artwork #sci fi #del-verse #scp foundation #SCP-8883

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dark-frosted-heart · 3 months ago

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Choose Your True Love - Azel Radwan (part 2/4)

This is the from the 4th anniversary event

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

Azel (polite): We have 1, 2…3, 4 risk-takers here…Tonight will be a fun night, won’t it?

(Prince Azel?!)

Standing before the large moon, he was cloaked in a holy aura far different from the usual malicious god.

His mysterious presence nearly brought me, an acquaintance, to my knees. The domineering men prostrated in the sand, showing respect.

Ruffian: Living God, we were only going to escort this lost woman back to the city—

Azel (polite): Are you sure? You are making such false confessions so shamelessly. The details of what happened to people who had incurred God’s wrath and received divine punishment have been passed down as legends. However, I am a benevolent god, so I will overlook this one mistake. So—what were you trying to tell me?

Ruffian: ……Our apologies.

Azel (polite): I believe you are apologizing to the wrong person.

Ruffian: Our apologies…miss.

Emma: It’s fine…

(...They’re all trembling)

It wasn’t like Prince Azel wanted to kill them.

There wasn’t even a hint of anger in his words.

Still, the tension was so oppressive that it felt as if a single divine command would erase not just their life, but their whole existence.

Azel (polite): You were about to lay your hands on God’s property. And my policy is to not show compassion to scoundrels who lay their hands on my property. In any case, God’s punishment will come. Be it tomorrow, or the day after, only I know.

There were no objections from the men.

It appeared they understood that they shouldn’t do this sort of thing to the Living God.

Azel (polite): Live piously while trembling in fear. So as to not incur more of God’s wrath.

Prince Azel wrapped an arm around my waist, but as if he remembered something, let go and quickly walked away.

He seemed to be heading toward the city, not the temple.

(...I’ll follow him)

I ran after Prince Azel’s retreating figure.

Now far from the men, I turned my head and saw that they still haven’t looked up.

When the city lights drew closer, Prince Azel finally stopped.

When our eyes met, God’s smile faded.

Azel: Why aren’t you carrying that with you?

Emma: “That”?

Azel: …You don’t have it on you?

Emma: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Prince Azel held his head and sighed.

Azel: That’s right. I wasn’t interested in you at this time.

Emma: …? Setting whatever you’re talking about aside, thank you very much for saving me earlier. I didn’t think you would save me like that… Prayers really do reach God.

Azel: It’s nice to see you’re in a good mood.

I ran after him when he walked away again.

Emma: Are you heading to the city?

Azel: Don’t you want to go home?

Emma: Pardon me for asking, but are you escorting me back?

(That refreshing indifference Prince Azel has toward others…)

Azel: Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m just taking a walk.

Emma: Of course you are. …But you’ve never gone for a walk to the city, have you? The reason why I run errands for you in the first place is because you can’t freely walk around the city—

Azel: Are you complaining about what a god’s doing?

A scowling Prince Azel came closer and pinched my cheek.

Emma: I’m sowwy.

Azel: As long as you understand. Look, when I said “a walk”, I meant it. Distrust’s blasphemous.

I nodded and the fingers tormenting my cheek left.

I followed after the footprints left by his long legs, trying not to fall behind.

(Huh? Even when I’m walking as hard as I can, I usually can’t catch up with him. But today, the distance between us isn’t as wide)

(Is Prince Azel matching my pace…? There’s no way)

Emma: …Prince Azel, how far are you going to walk for?

Azel (polite): Until I’m satisfied.

Now that he was surrounded by people, he suddenly switched to being polite.

Prince Azel’s sudden appearance startled people passing by.

Usually there’s advanced notice before Prince Azel visits court.

People needed to mentally prepare themselves before their living god appeared, so with his sudden appearance in the middle of the night, a wave of commotion gradually spread.

(Prince Azel didn’t go near the castle because he knew this would happen…)

(Everything really is weird)

(This Prince Azel looks like the one I knew, but it’s as if he’s been completely replaced…At least that’s how it feels)

Azel (polite): …Living in the castle is inconvenient, isn’t it?

It was like Prince Azel didn’t care about the racket around us as he glanced at me.

Emma: Y-yes…As your guest, I’ve always been treated with the highest courtesy.

Azel (polite): That is good to hear. Should you experience any form of displeasure, please let me know. Being disrespectful to my guest means being disrespectful to me.

Prince Azel’s voice was loud enough for everyone around us to hear, making them nervous.

(This concern he had for me was giving me the creeps)

(Just what in the world are you thinking, Prince Azel)

Emma: —Wait, why did you follow me into my room?!

#ikemen prince #ikepri jp #ikepri #ikepri translations #azel radwan #ikepri azel

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giorno-plays-piano · 1 year ago

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Metamorph

Part III

Pairing: art teacher!Aemond Targaryen x reader (Horror AU)

Warnings: dark!Aemond, obsessive behavior, murder, horror, yandere, kidnapping, misanthropy, general creepy stuff.

Words: 1.1k

Summary: Drawn to the artworks of one of the most esteemed artists in the city, you wish to learn from him and find out what inspires him to create his masterpieces. You have no idea how much his secrets will cost you.

Part I | Part II

____________

You clenched your fancy Kohinoor pencil between your fingers like it's a gun, staring at Aemond already posing in front of all of you. No procrastination, you reminded yourself firmly as you drew a long vertical line across the paper to balance the future drawing. Your teacher hadn't berated you for your mistakes even once. It'd be fine if you got this one wrong, too. Anything was better than an empty sheet.

God, but Aemond was so pretty. His high cheekbones, his strong nose and jaw, and those thin but expressive lips, the long scar across the left side of his face...

You quickly hid behind your easel.

Breathe. Just get out of your head, you repeated to yourself Aemond's very words. You needed to get started, and whatever happened next didn't matter as long as you allowed yourself to draw whatever came to your mind. Explanations and logic be damned. You were an artist! At these rare moments, you were supposed to feel, not think.

Slowly inhaling and exhaling to keep your anxiety at bay, you uncleched the pencil in your fingers and slowly started shaping the figure on a sheet. It's fine. Aemond wouldn't get mad anyway as long as you did what he said.

The more you put your pencil to the sheet, the easier it was getting, something unfurling in your chest, putting a stop to your anxious thoughts and fears of failure as you continued to build Aemond's body, starting to get into details once you finished with the primary form. Regardless of his talent and uniqueness as an artist, he was still only a fellow human being like you. There was no need to magnify his power.

By the time Aemond walked over to you, you were almost finished with the painting, landing the last strokes to color the palms of the man on the sheet. It was that very red paint you had been mooning over for many months, complimenting its unusual vibrant color and a pleasant consistency. It was hard to believe you were now using it for your own artwork, but time was running out, and you didn't have a spare moment to be drooling over the paint.

"What do we have here?" The artist hummed, making you jump in your seat. How on Earth did he manage to walk so quietly in a room full of tables, chairs, and people?

Trying to focus on his question, you suddenly realized you had no clue how to present your idea to the teacher. Did you even draw what he had asked you to? What was that, not changing the silhouette and using mainly paint to express yourself or something?

You felt the beads of sweat promptly forming on your forehead as you clenched your jaw.

"You've been improving," Aemond told you, eye on the drawing as he tilted his head to the side. "Body proportions seem right, and I like the way you shaped the arms and legs. You had difficulties with them before."

Oh, really? You surely had problems drawing arms, but you didn't notice you were becoming better. A pleasant surprise. Not that one wouldn't expect to improve after taking lessons from the most esteemed artist in the city.

"Why did you paint the head and hands in red?"

Oh, crap. Why did you? You frantically searched for an answer other than "no idea, Sir, I think my subconsciousness just took over my body." Shifting in your seat uncomfortably, you looked up to Aemond bent over, intently studying your artwork.

Cautiously, you muttered, "I-I think every change starts from the head, Sir."

Would that qualify for an answer? But Aemond quickly directed his gaze at you and demanded, "And hands?"

Biting your poor lip that no amont of lip balm was going to save after today's lesson, you mumbled, "Hands are the tool that make the change happen, Sir."

"Very logical, yes. Now, forget about trying to give me a logical answer and tell me what you felt when you were drawing this. Tell me about the paint."

He bent over even closer to you, practically breathing into your face, and you almost lost the ability to produce any adequate sounds. Your teacher clearly saw through your bullshit, and the thought that he was upset or even mad at you made you feel miserable.

"It's a metamorph, Sir," you whispered, one step closer to having a panic attack and hoping no student in the room was listening to your rambling, "and red is a color of life. Of change."

Aemond cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at you. "Why do you think red is the color of change? Is it because the change scares you?"

"It's not the change itself that scares me. It's what the metamorph is becoming, Sir," you uttered in a small voice and then added even quieter, praying only Aemond could hear you, "I think- I think he's turning into something violent, Sir. Something terrifying."

It took you a second to recognize what you've just said and what reaction it has provoked.

All of a sudden, you were staring in the face of Aemond Targaryen with his thin lips stretched so wide in a smile that it was even a little creepy. Was he... content? Did he want to laugh at your silly attempt to explain your feelings when you'd been drawing? You wouldn't even be offended, to be fair. It sounded like nonsense to you, too.

But no, he didn't seem to find it funny. Instead, you felt his palm squeezing your shoulder firmly, his smile unwavering as he spoke to you in a hushed voice the way you'd been answering to him, "Very good. My favorite artwork today so far."

As he got up, moving to the next student on your left, you were ready to jump and run away from the studio because, clearly, you were going to burst from the excess of feelings and anxiety in the next five seconds. Your teacher said it was his favorite painting today. This banal, lacking in originality in its every aspect thing was his favorite. When blood rushed to your head, making you sweat and feel disoriented, you clutched the brush between your fingers, squeezing your eyes shut.

Aemond Targaryen liked your painting. Despite being the very inspiration for the beautiful but horrifying metamorph, he actually had some sort of fondness for it because later, before you left, he actually asked you to allow him to keep the artwork for his own collection. Why did he like it so much? You had no idea.

_________

Tags: @heavenly1927 @yazzzmints @devils-blackrose @lost-and-founds @kennafild @toodlesxcuddles @shygardengalaxy

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #ewan nation #hotd #house of the dragon #the house of the dragon #yandere

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cameronspecial · 1 year ago

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Her Guardian And His Redemption

Pairing: Bodyguard!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: Sexual Thoughts, Being Kidnapped, Someone Getting Killed.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 6.7K

Summary: He was supposed to be there to protect her, but he wasn't. And then he made the biggest mistake of his life. How could he fix it?

A/N: This is Part 2 of Her Protector And His Hubris.

Masterlist

Francesca Chambers is not Y/N. It was painfully obvious to Drew as soon as he opened the file about her. Each page details a new fact that tells him he is going to hate working on this assignment. Francesca is the daughter of Senator Chambers and many of these sheets depict her run-ins with the media. One article on a meltdown about not getting the right colour car on her sixteenth birthday. One Reddit thread about a heated argument with someone just trying to do their job. One video of her attacking her friend because they were wearing the same outfit. He didn’t need to do any more research on her to know she was going to be a handful. She was nothing like Y/N and everything like his previous clients. Every single week there was a new party. A new incident. A new thing he had to cover up so he didn’t get in trouble with the senator. To make matters worse, Francesca seems to think that he should be completely infatuated with him because she is God’s gift to the world.

“Drewwww, I need your help,” she drawls out from the bathroom. He sighs and puts his book down. The paperback copy of East of Eden is worn out. The spine is cracking because of how many times he has read it and the cover is missing the corner, lost a long time ago. It is not as nice as the copy Y/N gave him, but he couldn’t bring himself to take it. He knew that every time he looked at it, it would remind him of the danger he put his love in. The cushion of the chair creaks under his weight as he rises from the chair. He makes his way upstairs and stands outside of the door. He wraps his knuckles against the dark wood, “What’s wrong?” “I need you to come inside,” she pleads.

“I don’t think it would be appropriate if I do so.”

“Please, Drew. It’s important. It is a matter of my safety.”

Knowing it could spell out a disaster if he doesn’t check on her safety after that, he enters her bedroom and then the bathroom. He finds her in the bathtub, covered in bubbles. “I need you to get me a towel,” she orders with a smile. He looks at her with tight lips, “That doesn’t concern your safety.” “Yes, it does! I could slip while going to get it,” she argues, batting her eyelashes at him. He doesn’t argue; it would go nowhere. He gets the towel for her, throwing it on the toilet before storming off to his room. This isn’t the first time she’ll pull this type of shit and it won’t be the last.

———

Drew would never admit that his feet are aching. He should be used to this much standing by now. Yet, every time he goes shopping with Francesca, time seems to slow down, causing the blood to pool his feet. He isn’t one to be bashful and he isn’t with Y/N, but without Y/N around, he doesn’t know where to look. Especially because of the store they are in right now. The lacey materials all around the store fill his imagination with thoughts of her. Every garment he sees, he pictures her and all the naughty things he wants to do to her. “I want to try these on,” he overhears Francesca's demand to the sales associate. The other woman puts on a fake grin, “Of course, Miss. All of our changing rooms are currently in use at the moment, but I could make sure you get the next available one. Do you want to keep browsing and I’ll come to get you when it is ready?” Francescar’s eyes narrow and her lips pucker. Drew prepares himself for the hail storm that is about to occur, pretending to survey the store for threats. Although, he probably entered the store with the biggest one. “Excuse me! Do you know who I am? My father is a senator and one for call to him can have you fired,” she screeches, pointing an accusing finger at the employee.

The blood drains from the associate's face, “I’ll see what I can do.” “Good,” his client’s words chase after the scurrying worker. “Can you believe some people?” she mumbles under her breath. Drew gives her a disapproving look, “You were rude to her.” “No, I wasn’t. I was just reminding her of her place,” she retorts. He rolls his eyes, nothing can get through to her. They are soon rushed to the changing rooms and Drew stands at the entrance. Francesca goes into the changing room, coming back out soon after in the first lingerie set. It’s a pastel green set that goes with her olive eyes. Drew can see her vying for her attention out of the corner of his eyes, yet his focus is on something outside of the changing room. It is a pastel pink slip dress. Flower lace covers the breasts and also forms two slits at the bottom of her dress on the sides.

An image pops into his mind. The woman he loves standing in a doorway adorned by pink and flowers. He waits patiently for her to saunter over to him with her arms swinging at her side. She would straddle his hips, sitting back on his thighs. Her finger would raise and curl to beckon him forward. His hands find her thighs, pressing her closer to his crotch. He brings his lips closer to her and captures the beautiful petals. “I love you,” he promises to her. “Drew, you aren’t looking at me.” Francesca snaps him out of his fantasy. Irritation seeps out of him, “That’s because my job is to identify threats in our environment and I can’t do that if I’m looking at you.” He doesn’t glance over at her; instead, he continues to search the store for possible threats. She huffs at the lack of attention, “You are such a buzzkill.” She goes back into the changing room, leaving him to wish he could really say those things to his precious.

———

James Notting isn’t Drew. It was obvious to Y/N that he was a good bodyguard. Except he would never make her feel the way that Drew can make her feel. She knows she is safe with James; it doesn’t feel the same way as when she is with Drew. Drew’s protection made her feel warm. With Drew, it didn’t feel like an obligation. It feels like his life mission to keep her safe. He wasn’t doing it for the money. He was doing it because he truly cared for her on a personal level. She doesn’t blame James for not being Drew; she has a hole inside of her heart James can’t fill. She finishes packing up her work to bring home and heads to the elevator with James following behind her. He opens the car door for her once they get to her car. As she ducks to get into the car, she has to move her right shoulder, which causes an ache to shoot through it. Her hand reaches for her healing wound and this only causes more pain. “Are you okay?” James worries. She nods and continues to sit in her seat.

The car ride to her apartment is quiet. The only sound is the music playing from her playlist. When they get home, Alice is already making dinner in the kitchen. The aroma of the frying chicken instantly hit her nose. She greets Alice with a smile and makes her way into her office to put her work away. She is about to head back downstairs to talk to Alice when a cardboard box catches her eye. She should’ve brought that to the security firm a long time ago. Y/N holds in a breath as her feet drag across the hardwood floor towards it. Her hands shake while reaching for the lid to take it off.

Versace and cigarettes. It surrounds her in its embrace. She immediately regrets opening it and wants to put the lid back on; nevertheless, the items inside draw her in like a siren song. She picks up the item on top. The custom copy of East of Eden she had made for him. Realizing he left it behind hurt her more than she could ever know. She was so proud of herself for thinking of the gift. Every time she found him reading it, a small spark would shock through her heart. To her, the book was a symbol of her love for him and he left it behind as he left her. The next thing she finds is his WCU shirt. He probably forgot it was in her drawers because it became her sleep shirt after the first night they made love. She used to make him wear it for a day whenever it would stop smelling like him, making him laugh with the way she would beg him to put it on right at that second. A coil wraps around her heart and tightens until it squeezes tears out of her. She brings it to her nose like she did on that fateful night, breathing in all the memories she had with him. The late mornings in bed she would spend with that shirt on. He would play with the hem of it while he guided her cooking from over her shoulder. The way he would go crazy to bring her pleasure with it on.

A polaroid is the final thing she can bring herself to pick out. The sunlight from the apartment window gave her an ethereal look. She was focused on the art book in front of her, sketching an outfit for her upcoming fashion show. He brought the Polaroid camera to his eyes and called out her nickname. It caused a smile to bloom across her, which was the moment he captured forever. The photo was printed out and he wrote My Precious in the blank area with a heart at the end. She watched as he put the photo in his wallet. “So I can have you wherever I go,” he said to her, kissing the photo and then her. Of course, like it always did, the kiss turned into passionate sex. Y/N guesses he doesn’t want her wherever he is now.

———

After dinner, Y/N goes into her study to finish up her work. Her eyes double-check the guest list for her fast-approaching event. “James, I have the list for you to look over,” she informs the man somewhere in the apartment. He stoically enters the office and takes the list from her. He closes the door behind him, walking to his room. The sofa chair creaks as he sits to look over the names. He is looking over the possible guests to get a sense of what to expect and to flag any potential threats that she needs to change out. Most of the people are her usual ones until he meets one that causes him to freeze. Francesca Chambers. Shit. She probably invited the senator’s daughter because the girl is known to throw tantrums when not invited to exclusive events. Y/N never would have done it if she knew Drew was Ms. Chambers’ bodyguard. James could tell her that fact, but he won’t. Drew made a mistake and James wants to help him fix it.

———

When the invitation came in the mail, Drew started to buzz with anticipation of seeing her again. He has seen her on social media, but it could never be the same as seeing her in person. It could never beat being able to reach out and feel her warm, smooth skin. Tonight’s event is raising money for the foster system. It would go towards group housing for kids who can’t stay in a foster home, food, and items. Another very important fact that Y/N wants to emphasize is getting children in the foster care system actual bags for their things. He remembers the day she had decided this would be her next fashion event all those months ago. She had watched an Instagram reel of a foster mother and one of the details that stood out was the fact that the children the mother was newly fostering had their personal belongings in a garbage bag. Her heart broke for the children who were already going through a hard time. She wanted to give them the dignity of their stuff being regarded as special. He had to comfort her as she cried for the kids in the foster system. He loves that she always brings her plans into reality.

During the fashion show, he stands at the back of the room, searching for anyone he needs to neutralize. Every outfit is absolutely stunning and pride fills him up. He wishes he could’ve been there to watch her create such beauties. The end of the show is nearing when Francesca has to go to the bathroom. Like a good bodyguard, he follows her and waits outside of the room. He can still hear the noises coming from down the hall. His foot impatiently taps against the floor. Francesca is taking forever. The music starts to fade out and is replaced by a familiar voice. “Hello, thank you for coming to support the event. There are around three hundred ninety-one thousand children in the foster care system. Now, that may not seem like a lot to you. But that doesn’t mean that they don’t deserve better…”

Her voice starts to fade from his ears as he begs the universe to make his client leave the bathroom so that they can make it back for the end of Y/N’s speech. The universe doesn’t answer. Instead, Francesca takes ten more minutes in the bathroom and he discreetly rushes her back to where everyone is. It was too late. No one stands on the stage anymore and everyone is already moving on to where the cocktail party is being held. Francesca picks up her purse from her chair and they head over to the next room. His eyes scan the room, looking for the one person who could make him feel at home even though he is so far from where he grew up. He had been trained for this moment, so he could easily find her. He is too far away to hear the laughter that falls from her lips. Her head is thrown back in delight and he desires to be by her side, whispering how magnificent she has done. How noble this event is. How proud her mother would be of her. He knows those are the words she is dying to hear. Fear floods through him. There are so many people in this room, right now. And while he does trust James to protect his precious, big events like these can be hard to navigate with no help.

Francesca hates charity. Why should she care about people below her? The only reason she is at this event is because she has to see the girl, who has such a strong hold on Drew. No matter how stupid Drew thinks she is, she knows he is in love with Y/N Y/L/N. She has seen the articles around the pair and Francesca wants that love for herself. Even now, she can see the way he looks out for Y/N and jealousy toils in her stomach. She needs his attention on her. She struts over to him and places her hand on his chest. “I really like this suit on you, Drew. You fill it out amazingly,” she flirts, running her hand up and down his pectoral muscle. To her surprise, he doesn’t shove her hands off of her. She takes this as an invitation to continue even if his awareness isn’t on her. Satisfaction comes to her when she catches Y/N’s envious gaze.

How dare he? Y/N and Drew had to keep their relationship a secret, yet it was okay for him to be public about his relationship with a senator’s child. Francesca is a more public figure than Y/N. It made no sense. They both had agreed to keep them on the down low, so she doesn’t understand why this bothers her. Francesca leans in to whisper something in Drew’s ears and he doesn’t react. Y/N is familiar with Drew’s composed demeanour. What kills her even more? Drew is letting Francesca touch him at her event. He broke her heart and now, he was breaking it all over again by flaunting his relationship with another girl. He can’t be clueless about who is hosting the show. Y/N never thought that Drew would go for someone so spoiled and rude. Maybe she doesn’t know him at all. She turns back to Jackie and distracts herself with the other woman’s story about a fashion malfunction.

Drew hates the feel of Francesca’s hands on him; however, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Y/N is safe. That her surroundings aren’t putting her in danger. Like he should’ve done the last time he worked for her. His vision falls on her again. This time, he examines her in full glory. Her red dress helps her stand out against the crowd. It only has one strap that rests on the side of her left shoulder. This leaves the still-healing bullet wound out for anyone to see. The skin where the scar is is taught, puckering in redness. He hopes she is taking care of it and that it is healing fully. If his self-confidence didn’t get in his way, then he would’ve been there to help her do all that stuff. He can make amend with that part of himself by keeping her safe tonight. He spends the rest of the night ignoring his job and fulfilling his life mission.

———

She gets home around one in the morning. Her feet aching from the night spent in heels and her hair giving her a headache from how tight it is. She stumbles to her bedroom, ridding herself of her clothes. She turns on the shower and gets to work on taking her hair down. Once steam starts to fill the room, she checks the temperature of the water to find it is perfect. The warmth of the water causes her to let her emotions out. She can’t distinguish between her tears and the water from the shower head. It makes no difference to her. Memories from the night pass through her brain. The way Francesca would cling to Drew’s suit. The way he wouldn’t even look in her direction. The way that watching him with another girl made her feel like she lost him all over again. To make it worse, every single moment she had with him made an appearance. It feels like every single emotion she has been trying to avoid comes crashing down on her at once.

Her shower ends about half an hour later and she may be tired, except she needs to complete her daily ritual. She gets her ice cream out of the freezer and plops down on the couch. The Office’s theme song starts to play on her TV. The ice cream helps fill the ache in her heart and lulls her to sleep, causing the ice cream to melt as she slumbers.

———

It has been about a month since Y/N’s last event and the exes haven’t seen each other since. In that month, Drew realized he lost his social security card. He couldn’t get a new one yet because his birth certificate was missing too. His brain wracks through the last time he remembers seeing it and bites his lip when he realizes where it is. He left it in Y/N’s filing cabinet. She had insisted he put all his important documents there for safekeeping. His social security card must be there too. This is how he finds himself waiting at the concierge desk of her building. He no longer had access to her apartment without going through security protocols. “Hello, Ms. Y/L/N. There is a Mr. Starkey here. He says that he needs to retrieve a birth certificate and social security card from your residence,” he listens to the concierge call Y/N. The man behind the desk places the phone on the receiver and turns to Drew, “She says you can go up.”

He listens to the elevator music, tugging on his flannel’s sleeves with nerves. He doesn’t know what to expect with being so close to her again. The front door is already open once he gets to her floor. His feet glide against the tile of the floor, scarping a little against it. Y/N is waiting for him at the door. “Where are the documents?” she asks. He gives her a soft smile, “I forgot them in your filing cabinet.” Her slippered feet slap against the hardwood floor as she walks to her home office. Drew removes his shoes and follows her. He catches up to her to see she is already getting out his files from the cabinet. He holds his hand out to take them, only for her to throw them carelessly onto her desk. She doesn’t wait for him to take it for her to quickly leave her office.

He runs after her, not ready to let this conversation come to an end. “Your charity event last month was amazing,” he applauds. She doesn’t look over her shoulder whilst she boils some water for tea, “Really? I didn’t think you had noticed with Ms. Chambers on your arm.” “Am I detecting jealousy?” he kids, hoping it would relieve some of her tension. “Jealous of Francesca Chambers?” Y/N laughs. “Why? Because she gets my sloppy leftovers. Because she is dating someone who promised to protect me, but is the reason why I got shot.” It was cruel to use Drew’s lowest point in life and to pit it against him. She doesn’t care. She needs him to hurt more than she does right now. She can’t stand to be in his presence. Drew’s heart bleeds with pain and it takes everything in him not to start crying at that instant. His insecurity starts to make itself known again. The constant belief of being at fault for his precious almost dying plagues his mind. He deserves this pain. It’s only half of what he deserves. “I never wanted you to get hurt. You know that right?” he justifies, stepping forward only for her to step back.

“Well, I did get hurt, Drew. You couldn’t protect me and I almost died. It was all your fault,” she screams. “Leave. I want you to go, now!” He tries to argue. “Precious, please. I need to hear you say that you know I didn’t want you to get hurt,” he pleads. No matter how irrational, he needs confirmation that she trusts him. That she did believe he would do whatever it took to keep her safe. She needs his anguish to subdue hers. “Please, Precious. Tell me that you believe me.” She breathes out a low chuckle, “Why would I say that? It. Was. Your. Fault.” Words can’t explain the feeling in his heart. The acid of her word burns his heart so it disintegrates. The one thing left behind is the carving of her name, waiting to be filled by her love again.

———

There were three places where James didn’t need to follow Y/N to every room she went. Her apartment. Her father’s house. And her office. At her apartment and dad’s place, James needed to remain on the premises and ready to be at her side. In her office, he could remain in front of her office as long as he checked in with her every hour. An hour isn’t very long; however, it is long enough for Y/N to disappear. “I’m just going to meeting room five-sixty. It’s supposed to be a two-hour meeting,” she fills him in. He bobs his head, “Got it. I’ll check in on you in an hour.” With her notebooks and laptop in her arms, she heads toward the elevator and presses the down button. Being on the twentieth floor meant that she had a long wait down to the fifth floor. On her ride down, people went on and off without her attention because she was absorbed by her phone. She should’ve been watching her environment. Drew used to drill into her brain how important it was to do so if she was alone. It must have slipped her mind.

By the time an unsettling feeling overcame her, it was too late. Her eyes glance up from her phone and she twists to the other person in the elevator. Ahead of her recognition of the figure beside her, a white cloth smothers her mouth and nose, causing her to inhale the fumes. It has a hint of sweetness combined with the familiar scent of nail polish remover. Her orbits start to droop and she is pulled into unconsciousness.

———

She wakes up cuffed to a chair. Her hands and feet are both restrained and she tries to break the chair. A shooting pain goes up her butt while the sound of metal hitting concrete reverberates through the cold cement room. Shit, it’s a metal chair. She doesn’t bother to shriek for help. There is no point in wasting her energy. She tries to think of how to dislocate her thumb to escape the cuffs. It doesn’t come to her. The door in front of her opens with a squeal and her kidnapper makes herself known. Sienna Cox is a carbon copy of her brother. Y/N recognizes Sienna from the pictures Sean showed her during their three dates. The dangerous woman approaches Y/N with a knife in her hand. She circles the chair, letting metal glide against metal. Y/N flinches as the sharp point greets her soft skin. “You are the reason my brother is in jail,” Sienna states, hate dripping from each word. Y/N is never one to back down, “Actually, I’m pretty sure it’s because your brother tried to kill my then-boyfriend, which got me shot. Your brother almost killed me.”

Sienna’s hand harshly tugs back Y/N’s head and the point of the knife connects with her neck. Y/N tries to remove Sienna’s hold, which produces a crimson knick on the side of her neck. “No, my brother is in jail because you had to choose a low-life bodyguard over him,” she growls. Y/N provokes Sienna more, “Hmm, nope. Your brother being an ass and delusional is the reason why he is in jail.” “Ugh, shut up,” Sienna yells, pulling pain from the incapacitated girl by slashing her forearm. Blood oozes from the cut and she can tell it is going to need stitches. She cries out in pain, starting to truly feel her life is in danger. Earlier, she didn’t think Sienna was capable of hurting her. How could she be so stupid?

———

Drew previously thought the day Y/N got shot was the most terrible day of his life. He was wrong. The ringing of his phone stops him from doing his job. He should be watching Francesca at the mall. The phone call prohibits him from doing it. The sole thing more important than James’ call would be Y/N’s. “She has been taken.” No greetings. No pleasantries. No small talk. Those didn’t matter though. Y/N was in danger. Drew doesn’t think about his client and runs to the car. “I want you to pull all the security footage from wherever you are. Comb it for the last seen citing of her,” he instructs. “Get background checks on everyone, and I mean everyone, who has been in the same vicinity as the place where she last was seen in within the last thirty minutes of her being there. Where are you?”

“Her office. She went down to the fifth floor for her meeting. She never got there.”

“Okay, I’ll be there soon. Start with the hallway footage for both the twentieth and fifth floors as well as the elevators. Have a secondary team look through all other footage.”

“Got it.”

He blows through every single stoplight. He’ll deal with this later. James meets Drew at the door and gives him an update on what they found so far. “We know she was taken from the elevator, except we can’t identify the person who took her because a hat is obstructing her face,” James notifies. Drew looks shocked, “How do you know it was a female?” All the women, who don’t like Y/N, never registered as a peril to him. They weren’t the type to get their hands dirty with physical harm. “Height and body shape. We are going through the women who checked in to match outfits with the pictures they took when they checked in,” James clarifies. His brain processes everything, “You probably aren’t going to find her at the check-in. Get the tech geeks to program the computers to extract all the footage with similar clothes to the suspect. I’ll go through all of it myself. I want it done in the next five minutes.”

Y/N’s office is eerily cold without her brilliant smile to light it up. His hand traces against the glass desk's smooth surface. He should’ve been here to stop her from being taken. It’s happening all over again. This could be his chance. He could halt her from being hurt. From nearing the brink of death again. This time, he is going to be there to be the one to protect her. His vows to himself are interrupted by James. “They got what you want.” Drew jogs after James to the emergency base camp for the search. “Show me what you got,” he orders. He inspects the screens simultaneously and finds what he needs. He knows her from the background research he did on her brother. Sienna Cox.

———

Honestly, Y/N would’ve done anything to get away from Sienna. Her villain monologue is a horrible torture method. At least she is too distracted to use the knife more on Y/N. “And when I visit him in jail, they take my phone away. Do you know how hard it is to not be able to use my phone for an hour?” Sienna complains, twirling the knife in her hand. Y/N fights the urge to make a snarky remark. The ruckus from upstairs freezes both girls. “Ugh, what could that be?” Sienna groans, leaving the room.

Drew wanted Sienna to know they were there. It would make it more fun for him and the group. The narrow hallway means Y/N can merely be in one direction. I’m coming for you, Precious. He thinks to himself. Sienna rounds the corner of the doorway and halts at the guns trained on her. She changes course back to where she came from. The rescue team runs after her to find her with a knife against Y/N’s neck. “Take one more step and this Bitch gets a new necklace. A deadly one,” Sienna warns, digging the knife in harder. A sob racks through Y/N’s body until she spots Drew in front of her. A silent connection transcends them with their eyes locked on each other. She didn’t mean those words and she trusts him. On the way over here, Drew found out everything about Sean’s sister and what buttons of hers to push. “Okay. I just wanted to let you know that James over here loves your podcast,” Drew plays into her ego. He discovered if there was one thing Sienna loved more than her brother, it was herself.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t buy his bait and the knife bites more into Y/N’s neck so that blood flourishes around it. Y/N whimpers at the new pressure on her. “You think that you can flatter me into letting your precious Y/N go? Well, you can’t! You guys are the reason why my brother is in jail and I’m going to stop her from testifying against him,” Sienna screeches. Her arm raises in the air with the knife, ready to bring it back down into Y/N. Drew has killed before, but this is personal. He can’t let fear come in the way of what he has to do and he prays that Y/N has the sense to stay still. His gun aligns with Sienna’s head, taking the shot. A coined-size hole punctures her head and blood spews out of the wound. Y/N shouts as red rain showers her. “Get me out of here, please,” she implores, struggling against her restraints. Drew motions with his head to tell James to take care of Sienna whilst he helps Y/N. He hurries towards her, pulling out a tissue from his pocket.

One hand smoothes back her hair and the other wipes the blood off with the tissue. “Drew, you’re here,” she sobs out, reaching for him with her seized hands. Red swelts are starting to form around her wrist and Drew wishes he could kill Sienna a second time. He gently pushes her hand against the metal armrests, “Of course, I am, Precious. But I need you to give me a second, okay? I’m going to get bolt cutters to get you out of here.” Her pleas end his movement. “Don’t leave me, please. I don’t want to be alone.” He nods at her need and wraps his arms around her shoulder. His lips press against her temple, “Never. I’ll never leave you.” He calls out for some bolt cutters and a few minutes later he is given some. “Okay, Precious. I’m going to cut the cuffs off with these. It might be a little loud,” he briefs her. He snips the bracelets around her wrists and ankles. She is finally able to move freely, bringing Drew as close as possible to her. “I was so scared. I thought I was going to die,” she confesses, gripping to him like he is a life raft. He flattens her hair some more, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. She can’t hurt you anymore.”

“Y/N,” a familiar voice hails. She untangles herself from Drew’s hold, tearing his heart apart at the loss of contact. Her father grasps her in his arms. The father-daughter duo cling to each other, weeping at the fear of her being lost. Drew did what he came to do and it seems like he isn’t needed anymore. With his vision trained on the pair, he exits the damp cellar and goes home.

———

Saving her proved to him how much of a mistake breaking up with her in the first place was. Simply apologizing to her isn’t what she deserves for what he did. He could make a big grand gesture to show how wrong he was. Pay for a skywriter. Organize a flash mob at her favourite places. Rent a billboard at Time Square. Those weren’t right for Y/N though. They weren’t personal to her; nonetheless, Drew knew the perfect thing for her.

———

It’s been a week since Y/N was held captive for about three hours. She has already found a therapist, who has been helping her through her trauma. One thing has been killing her since that day and it’s the fact that she didn’t get to say thank you to Drew for saving her. She was horrid to him when he came to get his documents and she completely picked at his insecurities. Even with her behaviour towards him, he was there for her in her greatest moment of need. To add the cherry on top of the cake, he quit his job at the security agency because of her. He was going to get a suspension for leaving Francesca at the mall, so he decided to quit instead. James reassured her that Drew had enough money saved up to be out of work for at least ten years, which eased some of her worries. She glances at James standing behind her and she brings her hand up to knock on the door.

Drew opens the door with a measuring tape around his neck. A dazzling smile crosses her face and her eyebrows form a hairy caterpillar. “Precious, are you okay?” he frets, examining every inch of her to make sure she has no additional injuries. She nods and spots the sewing machine behind him on his table. The sage green fabric is snagged between the sewing needle and the base of the machine. She shakes out of her confusion to verbally answer him, “Yeah, I’m fine. I actually came to say thank you. You know… for last week. You don’t know how much it meant for me that you were there.” She fiddles with her fingers and his hand cups his neck as he rubs it. “You don’t have to thank me, Precious. I know I hurt you, but I will always be there to save you. I’m glad you are safe,” he appeases. She disagrees, “No, I was so rude to you. You didn’t deserve it. I hurt you and you put it aside to help me, like what I should’ve done that day.” He doesn’t need her to tell him what day she is talking about. He already knows.

Silence overcomes the couple and Y/N is again drawn to the equipment behind him. Her finger points at everything, “What’s all of this?” “Oh, um,” the hand on his neck continues its friction of the skin. “I’m trying to sew you a jacket.” One corner of her mouth raises, “You are making me a jacket?”

“Yeah… I made a mistake and I needed to show you how much I love you, so I wanted to make you a jacket that says, Precious.”

Her heart skips a beat and the idea of him learning to sew just for her makes her feel honoured. “That’s really sweet, Drew.”

“Can I tell you something?” he asks. This is his opportunity to tell her who she is to him. Her head hinges up and down. His hand laces with hers and he pulls her into this apartment. He closes the door, “I called you precious because even before we started dating, I knew you would be a treasure to me. It was an instant connection for me and I was a fool to have let you go. I understand if you don’t want to forgive me now. I just need you to know all this.” Her hand reaches up to his chest, grazing it softly with her warmth. “You broke up with me and I didn’t think I could ever forgive you. But you were there when I needed you and with the jacket, I can see how remorseful you are about the decision you made. I’ve made some poor choices too. And if you can forgive me too, then I think we both deserve a second chance,” she admits, not being able to meet his eyes. His finger raises her chin, “I will always forgive you because there is no one else in this world that I was meant to protect more than you. A second chance is all we are going to need. I’m never letting you go.” She jumps into his hold, smushing her lips onto his. His hands grip her thighs to keep her steady and his tongue enters her mouth.

Air eventually needs to enter their lungs, so they break apart with their foreheads together. He sneaks a peek at the fabric on the table and he sighs. “I know I’m supposed to be making it for you, but I’m going to need your help with the jacket. I screwed up somewhere and I have no idea how to fix it,” he fesses up. She giggles, “I can do that, except not right now. There is something else we need to be doing other than sewing.” He grins at the way her eyebrows move and he carries her to his bedroom.

A few months ago, Drew had made the biggest regret of his life. All he saw was his faults and it led him to that decision. Thankfully, the universe saw his pain and decided to help him out. It gave him a chance to prove to himself he was worthy. It gave him his redemption.

Taglist: @loves0phelia @f4ll-for-you @mellillasstuff @jjsmarijuana @thelomlisrafecameron @crlsummer @rubixgsworld

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robindrake93 · 9 months ago

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11 days since I sent you that ask and I can now say, I get it. I get what you meant about episode 8. WE DID NOT JUST GET LUKERCY CRUMBS HOLY SHIT-

ALL OF THEIR SCENES TOGETHER WERE MAKING ME FERAL FJGKD WHICH WAS SO HARD TO KEEP IN WHILE WATCHING IT WITH MY SIS 😭😭 IT WAS SO GOOD

the training!! the entire fucking fight with luke practically begging percy to believe that he is his friend and wants him to join him!! the lighting!! just everything!!! you can soo tell luke wanted to shove percy in that portal and take him along no matter what!! (ignoring annabeths appearance cause im still on the fence with that change even if I get why they did it)

i am so going to binge read lukercy fics the entire night just to fill my rabid need for content of them after seeing that AHFJVKDKD I CANT-

You're right we didn't just get crumbs, we got a whole damn pie.

Luke not only welcoming Percy to camp but being the one to show him around, constantly by his side. Even watching him sleep from across the cabin.

The look on Percy's face when Luke tells him he's always on Annabeth's side.

Luke breaking the camp rules that two demigods (with different parents) aren't allowed to be alone in the cabins together to give Percy the shoes in his cabin (as opposed to on the hill like in the book).

Percy wanting to take Luke on the quest but being afraid that Luke would prioritize Annabeth over him.

The jealousy and disgust in Luke's voice during the Iris message when he makes the comment about "when did you two become an old married couple" and the look of equal disgust and discomfort from Percy when he says "gross let's move on from that." (paraphrasing but you get the idea)

Luke influencing Percy so much that the very first words of Percy's book ("Look, I didn't want to be a halfblood") are actually a quote from Luke.

The whole training scene.

Sword under the chin is always hot. Percy's making a face like he knows it too.

When Luke goes to sit on that rock beside Percy, he chooses a spot that lets them sit eye-to-eye but also he rocks toward Percy for a second like he's going to go in for a kiss.

Percy mirroring the head tilt that Luke (Charlie?) does.

Luke's voice full of pride when Percy does good.

Luke telling Percy he's small and scary. So fucking cute.

The way we can see via body language what book!Percy has been telling us all along: that every time Percy picks up his sword, he hears Luke's voice in his head telling him what to do.

Percy and Luke almost never take their eyes off each other for the whole secret meeting about Clarisse.

They're meeting in the woods at night. Luke didn't even have to bribe Percy this time, he just trotted after him.

Luke coaxing Percy into talking. (in the books Percy doesn't do a lot of talking out loud and Luke actually does break the ice several times because Percy is just standing there staring like a little weirdo [affectionate].).

Fireworks from beginning to end. Love the red and blue ones especially for that bisexual lighting. It was easily the best lighting in the whole show.

"Easy. I just want to show you." Everyone says that the maia scene was the hottest thing Charlie said as Luke but they're sleeping on this. Those are 'gonna take your virginity' words and his tone of voice? Mmm. Yum.

AND it's about his sword? HIS SWORD?! The most phallic weapon of all? Gods help me.

Just an interesting detail but Luke doesn't actually ever point his sword at Percy until Percy attacks him. It really shows that his plan is to convince Percy to leave with him.

"The gods are my enemy. You....." - Luke searching for what Percy is to him. lol I guess it's supposed to be a dramatic pause for dramatic effect but it really just makes it sound like Luke is debating how exactly to define their relationship.

Both of them have watery tear-filled eyes? Excuse me? Cry babies? Yes please. I told all of you so.

Also Luke is comfortable with turning his back on Percy to draw the runes (?) even though Percy drew his sword and is sweating like a sinner in church.

Luke actually proposing that they run away. Together. Just the two of them.

"We"

Percy is literally swaying on his feet. You can see that he's nervous but he also doesn't take so much as a single step backward. He still wants to be close to Luke!

Luke's determination to bring Percy with him. During their fight he does his best to keep Percy between himself and the portal. He even tosses Percy towards it a couple of times. Luke wants Percy to run away with him voluntarily but you can see as the fight goes on longer, he decides kidnapping is an option.

Luke is not leaving without his boy.

The skill difference between Percy and Luke. We see this during training too, where Luke is tossing Percy around and basically playing with him (I mean it's serious training but Luke's skill level is so above that it looks like playing). Luke is not seriously fighting Percy. He's trying to herd Percy into that portal.

Luke praising Percy in the middle of their fight.

Percy cutting Luke.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to -" Because Percy really doesn't want to hurt Luke and he's never like actually hurt someone he cares about.

Luke cutting Percy.

Looming.

The way after Annabeth shows up, Luke's eyes flit down to Percy three separate times. You can visibly see him weighing his options. I think he was debating if he could sling Percy over his shoulder and run into the portal faster than Annabeth could catch them.

"I know Luke wasn't trying to kill me." - WOW what a change from the book. I can't believe they had Percy understand that because in the pit scorpion scene, he did not get it. I'm happy about the change but surprised they made it. (makes me wonder if Percy's the one who's loyalty we're supposed to question instead of Annabeth's as the next seasons come up).

Sorry that was long but like. Wow. We won hardcore.

As for reading more lukercy fic, you'll be pleased to know that it's the lukercy valentine's event this week (02/12-02-15) so there should be ✨ new fics. ✨

#answered asks #lukercy

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cocogum · 8 months ago

Text

Let’s talk about episodes 7 and 8….

(‼️SEASON 4 SPOILERS‼️)

Oh boy.

We got a lot to unpack.

We start with when we last finished off in episode 6.

Eva properly gets to speak with her father Madagaskan while the others are right behind her, listening intently to them.

AND MY GOD THE EXPOSITION WAS SO GOOD.

(Good for us, not for Eva tho lol)

The fact that she and Cleophee come from the most infamous assassin’s guild is WILD. You’re telling me that its members are so good at what they do that the rulers of the world buy their offers as fast as possible cuz they’re scared that the guild could ruin them if they go to the opposite team?? That just SCREAMS how important and secretive they are!! (plus we also saw a glimpse of what one of them, freaking Madagaskan, was able to do with just rocks). But it does explain why Eva has such a good eye for combat. I can also see where Cleophee takes her hair from too. From what Madagaskan has said about Eva personally, she looks identical to her mother. (I already headcanon that Cleophee took her looks from her dad instead 🥰).

But what surprised me even more was Flopin’s decision to follow Madagaskan. Not only did he want to get taught by him, but he willingly SNEAKED OUT OF THE DAMN HOUSE to go to him!

Also, can I just say how nice it is to see what Elely and Flopin’s bedrooms looked like? I love how we got a good shot of each of their rooms, it completely encapsulates their personalities and how opposite they are to each other!

Just look at how Flopin’s room looks very organized, his books are properly in their places on the bookshelves, and the amount of papers he has. Even his bed was made and you can see how he has a map of the World of Twelve plastered on the wall just on top of his desk.

Whereas with Elely, her room is completely messy, pillows and clothes are lying around the floor on the left side of the room, her bed is not made, she has a giant tapestry on her wall, some boxing equipment like her gloves and a punching bag (which she drew Poo on it lol that’s a nice detail).

But Flopin did have a point when he talked to his grandpa. We all knew he was a loser cuz Elely and Pin were doing their own thing. I mean do you remember how exhausting it was to keep seeing Elely having so much spotlight back in season 3? My girl is awesome and all but let her breathe for a second damn.

I’m glad Flopin chose that route for himself even though it was a bit of a surprise to see him want to follow Madagaskan now.

Ngl he lists out very valid points that even we were thinking about. It just shows that Flopin is very much self-aware of his position in the family and how this makes him look. I had a feeling Flopin would have his own arc but I didn’t think he’d separate himself from his family to have one! Good for him tho but still…

This means he won’t see Elely for a long time and Pin wouldn’t get to know him as much as the rest of the Percedal family….

But at least he’ll have his grandpa 😭😭

*Meanwhile with Ruel*

“HELPING FOSTER CHILDREN IN NEED?!?? 😱😱😱 HELL NAH NOT ON MY WATCH 😡😡😡”

I can’t with this old ass man sometimes I swear 😭😭😭

I just really loved the exposition on Nora’s part where she revealed to Yugo, Adamaï, and Qilby why and how she came to rescue their mother. The colors and the style of it all were so gorgeous and mesmerizing to stare at and it made so much sense. I also noticed how in her explanation, Nora mentioned that it was Efrim who had a special connection to the Eliatrope goddess instead of her like how it was revealed to be the case in the Wakfu volume 4 manga and the Islands of wakfu game. I assumed that Ankama retconned that tiny detail too.

LESBIAN QUEENS ‼️LESBIAN QUEENS‼️LESBIAN QUEENS‼️ LESBIAN QUEENS‼️LESBIAN QUEENS ‼️

I just love how realistic all the rulers’ answers have been so far. They’re all skeptical of Yugo and his family and I don’t blame them for thinking like that. It doesn’t matter how kind and helpful Yugo can be to them. As Aurora said, everything about this is too coincidental which is how Armand concluded that there could be a traitor in Yugo’s group. Again, I don’t blame him for saying that since he just got told by Yugo that the portals from the Sadida kingdom and Albuera have a portal, leading to the necrome world, that looks a lot like an eliatrope one.

And of course, Yugo doesn’t hesitate to blame Qilby and already jumps to conclusions way too fast, immediately thinking he’s the traitor since he knows he’s the type to hop from planet to planet, not caring what happens to the places he went to just as long as he got to study them.

I love this man so much 💕💕✨

But if Yugo actually took a second to process the information, he would know that there was clearly something wrong with his accusation. Because how and where would Qilby have the energy and especially the time for all that? Yugo is completely aware that Qilby got freed by their mother and Nora not a very long time ago. If I had to assume when he was freed, I’d have to say just a bit earlier when Yugo and the others were still in Oropo’s dimension.

Not only that, but since he got freed not too long ago AND was being carefully monitored by Nora, then there was no chance he could have been the traitor. He just got out of the White Dimension (again) so he’d be drained of energy and didn’t have the eliatrope dofus and the Eliacube.

But a very important thing to note here is that Qilby was also joining Nora and the small eliatropes on the missions his mother would send them in which clearly implies that he’s not done with this world yet (he could have been participating only because he was looking for the eliatrope dofus at the time when Adamaï didn’t find them first but if that was the case, then he wouldn’t have stayed and help to fend off against the necromes since he doesn’t like it when other beings pursue him and his people without, ironically, knowing where they are).

With all these in mind, it's safe to say that Yugo’s anger towards Qilby is based on personal issues.

Their fight in the sky was so well choreographed that I just loved every single second of it and how none of their poses were recycled 💖

If I see this shit in the streets you bet ur ass I’m shitting myself.

Also,

Ankama left us with a cute little gift so unexpectedly that it made me bash my keyboard at the wall. 🥰🥰

This shot was pulled out of nowhere that it made my heart drop to my feet.

This is the living embodiment of what Yugo’s sleep paralysis demon looks like 💀

One thing’s for sure though.

I’m not ready for the next episode my stomach keeps giving me constipation symptoms just thinking about it.

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paperweight91 · 1 year ago

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Dream a Little Dream of Me Part 2

Summary: Your mission with Captain Rogers doesn’t exactly go to plan.

Warnings: Death (not major character), no others really.

A/N: this part has been reworked a couple times to get it to flow better. Please let me know what you think!!

You awoke the next morning to the buzzing of your alarm. Today was the day, your mission with Captain America. You purposely set your alarm early so you could go get a workout in before the briefing and getting ready to leave. Rolling out of bed you pulled on a pair of comfy yoga pants and a sports bra with a tank over top.

You stopped in the kitchen on the way down to the gym to grab a protein bar and some water, saying a quick “Good Morning” to Bucky before slipping out of the room. When you arrived at the gym you were surprised to see Steve and Sam running on the treadmills. You gave them a short wave then put your earbuds in to start your pre-workout stretches.

You sighed as you shifted and felt the bruises still left on your hip. How could you have done that yourself? No, not the time to think about that. Focus! You wrapped up your stretches and made your way over to the furthest treadmill from Steve and Sam. Sam raised an eyebrow at you, but said nothing.

As you programmed in your usual pre-mission run you felt eyes on you. You looked up to see Steve staring at you. He hadn’t noticed that you saw him looking at you yet. The look on his face was different from what you were used to. Not the fierce anger, or the sneering scoff. You weren’t sure what to make of it really. You shrugged it off and continued with your workout.

After showering and grabbing a quick bite to eat you met Steve in the briefing room. He was already suited up, and ready to go. You hoped this would be a quick in and out mission.

“So glad you could finally make it to the briefing,” his tone set you on edge. If anything you were early, what was he trying to do? You scoff but take a seat across from him at the table. Not willing to give him the satisfaction of arguing.

Steve ran down the mission details. It was fairly straight forward: release the hostages and grab any Intel. No kill mission, unless of course yours or the hostages lives were in danger.

You nodded along as you scanned through the tablet with the additional information. The hope was you both would be in and out before anyone even noticed you were there.

“This is a mission I would generally do on my own, but I think this will be good practice to see how you work with your teammates.” God he was such an ass!

“Right,” you replied, keeping your voice even, and trying but failing to keep the edge out. “So how do you want to split this? Or are we working through this whole thing together?”

“I think it’s best if we don’t split up unless necessary. Go suit up, we're wheels up in twenty.” You nod, surprised to find yourself agreeing with Captain “stick-up-his-butt.” Not knowing each other well enough meant splitting up was much riskier than sticking together, even if you could complete the mission quicker.

You quickly don your suit, and race to the Quinjet. Hoping to beat Steve there, if only for the satisfaction of being there first. You’re not sure who’s looking out for you today, but by some miracle you manage to make it there before Steve. You drop your duffle of supplies in the back and grab a seat. As soon as you sit you feel that slight wave of dizziness crash over you. No, no not now!

You shake your head and the feeling passes. Thankfully, it’s then that Steve climbs up the steps of the Quinjet. He nods to you before taking his seat in the cockpit.

The trip is quiet, letting you run through the information over and over in your mind. It was Steve’s voice that drew you out of your thoughts. “What are you doing?”

He was looking back at you, intrigued. At least he’s not annoyed. “Just running through all the intel, making sure I have everything memorized. I hate going into places blind.” You picked up the tablet to go over the layout of the building for the 10th time. “You suspect they’re keeping the hostages on the lowest level, right?”

Steve nodded, it looked like you were closing in on the location. He was definitely descending. “Do you have an ETA once we land?” You were nervous, and had trouble keeping the warble out of your normally confident demeanour.

Steve nodded as he guided the Quinjet closer to the ground. “It’ll likely take us thirty minutes on foot once we land. You have your supplies?” Was he being nice?

You nodded even though he wasn’t looking at you, going through your mental checklist of all the weapons and gadgets you were bringing with you. Nothing crazy or flashy, but enough to protect yourself and definitely enough to download any Intel you could find quickly. You ran your hands over each item you had equipped to your suit. Physically checking that everything was in its place as Steve finally landed the Quinjet.

There was enough cover that you could likely be back before anyone noticed a rogue Quinjet, but still Steve turned on Tony’s tech that made the jet near invisible unless of course you knew what you were looking for. You walked side by side with Steve as you approached what appeared to be an abandoned hospital.

Your mouth twisted as you looked over the place, “Are you sure this is the right place, Captain?” There were no vehicles or any signs of life. No smoke from an errant fire, nothing. This whole situation was starting to feel off.

Steve hummed, “Doesn’t look very promising does it?” You shook your head in response. “We’re here, let’s check it out and if there’s nothing we can regroup back in the Quinjet.”

Together you scoped out the building, and found a hidden entryway. Once inside, the mission seemed slightly more promising. Steve tapped his ear then pointed down the long hallway, indicating he could hear something you couldn’t. Damn super soldier hearing. Your pulse picked up as you realized this was likely the group that was holding the hostages. You needed to find a way to gain access to them without alerting this group to your presence.

Suddenly a thought occurred to you, the fire routes. That was going to be your easiest way to navigate any hostages out of this situation. You pointed to the map across the hall, Steve’s eyes followed and he nodded. As quietly as you both could, you entered into the fire stairwell and made your way down to the lowest level.

Upon opening the door to the hallway the first thing you noticed was the smell. It smelt like that one time your mission had gone sideways in Brazil, turning your three day mission into a month long stay. When you had returned home everything in your fridge was so rotten you had been worried you would never get the smell out. Except this was worse. It was stronger, more pungent and definitely was more than some rotten food left in a fridge for a month.

Steve preceded you around the corner, his shield held high in anticipation of an enemy. Until he suddenly deflated infront of you. You walked around him to see what had changed his demeanour so quickly, and gasped at the sight in front of you. Bodies. Dead bodies. There was no telling how long they had been there. A while judging by the smell. You let out a whimper as your eyes scanned the faces. Women, men, children. They had taken all of these people from their lives, just to what, kill them?

Steve’s hand on your shoulder stopped you from moving. You had started walking towards the bodies, searching for any sign of life. You shook his hand off, and started walking forward again. It was a whisper of your name off Steve’s lips that stopped you in your tracks.

“It’s too late, they’re gone.” He said, voice wavering on the last syllable.

A choked sob left your mouth before you could stop it. The knowledge that you were too late, too much for you to bear. You raised your hand in front of your mouth. The sight in front of you triggering a memory, or is it a dream?

Before you can react any further Steve starts pulling you away. “C’mon,” me mumbles, “let’s get the intel and get out of here.” You stumble as he pulls you, still caught between the sight in front of you and the distant memory pulling at the edges of your brain. You fall into him and he holds you close. “I’m sorry,” you murmur into his chest, knowing he’ll still hear you. “I don’t know why it’s so bad this time, can I-could I have just a minute to…” you trail off, not quite sure what you’re asking for.

You feel Steve nod his head as he holds you close. This isn’t a position you ever expected to find yourself in. Showing Steve this vulnerability, but there was no way you could continue this mission without getting your head back in the game. His large paw-like hands ran up and down your arms in a soothing gesture, it was then you realized your heart was racing and you were crying. He guided you both back to the stairwell, away from the sight and horrific smell.

“Feeling better?” His voice was a murmur into the top of your head. You nodded, and shyly looked up at him. “I’m sorry Captain, I don’t, I’ve never been this emotional on a mission before. I-I promise it won’t happen again.” You can barely look him in the eye as you take a step back, and decide to focus instead on the chin strap for his helmet.

Steve opened his mouth to respond when suddenly a wave of dizziness unlike anything before hit you. You felt like your skin was burning and your head spun until you couldn’t tell up from down. “S-Steve…help…I’m…”

It was all you could get out before passing out, feeling the warmth of strong arms briefly before the world went black.

You felt your skin start burning again as you came too. This time from cold. Except for how you normally woke up here in the clothes you had begged, borrowed and stolen, you were still in your stealth suit. Not only that you felt the strong arms of Steve Rogers wrapped around you holding you tight.

Before you can untangle yourself you see the flurry of movement up ahead. Curtis. You jump to your feat Steve doing the same. He looked around confused, then stared at you shocked.

“Sweetheart,” Curtis looked like he had seen a ghost when he saw you. “How? Where? What’s going on?” You’d never seen him so flustered. But you were also confused, what was he talking about?

“I think I have the same questions as you. Captain Rogers.” He held out his hand for Curtis to shake. Curtis looked at him like he had the plague before begrudgingly shaking his hand. “Is there somewhere private we can talk here?”

Curtis nodded and lead you both back to where he and Gilliam would plan the rebellion. There wasn’t much privacy in the tail, and this was the closest you ever really got.

You sat atop an overturned crate shakily as Steve stood beside you. His arms were crossed and as you looked up at him you could see his no nonsense Captain America face was on. You hugged yourself trying to figure out where to start.

“Start from the beginning.” Curtis’ voice shocked you. You must have said that out loud.

“I-I don’t know what’s going on. Ever since I was a kid I remember dreaming of this place. It wasn’t every night, but most nights…I always hated this dream.” You looked straight at Curtis. His face was always easy to read. For a man who said so little you could always tell the emotions right from his face. He looked confused, and a little hurt if you were honest with yourself.

Although you spoke to Curtis it was Steve who responded to you, he said your name barely above whisper, “I don’t think this is a dream, maybe it never was…” he trailed off as he looked around. Turning his attention to Curtis he spoke next, “where are we?”

“This is Snowpiercer, a train built to house the remnants of humanity after the planet became too cold to be habitable. I’ve been here for 19 years. I wasn’t able to afford a ticket at the time, none of us in the tail were.” Curtis still looked confused as he turned his attention to you. “I remember when we boarded you were there. Alone. You seemed so small, and scared that day, like you had no idea what was going on…you didn’t did you?”

You nodded as you took in a steadying breath. You remembered it vividly, the first time you dreamt of the train. You had come home from school to find the house empty, your parents still at work. You had done some homework and made yourself a snack before finding yourself asleep in bed before they even got home.

You remembered the biting frost of the air. The people begging to be let on the train. The dizziness that surrounded you as you stood on the platform, looking around helplessly. You remembered a young man, a few years older than you, making sure you got on the train with a flash of blue eyes.

“None of it was a dream?” Your voice shakes, along with your shoulders. Your head starts to pound as all the memories of both your lives rush through you all at once.

The pile of bodies on the mission, it was so similar to before you had the protein blocks. People just started dieing from hunger. No way to help, nothing you could do, but just wait until they removed the bodies.

“No sweetheart.” Curtis sinks in front of you to wrap himself around you. “I was so scared one minute you were right there in front of me. In my arms. And the next, you were just gone, like you had never been here in the first place. That was days ago. No one has seen you since.”

You sob into his shoulder. It’s too much. You look up to see Steve standing behind Curtis now. His Captain America facade is gone, and his face showing more concern then you’ve ever seen him direct towards you before.

“You didn’t know this was happening? The SHIELD screening didn’t pick up on it?” You shake your head no to both of his questions trying to gather yourself. You cling to Curtis, your safety in the tail. Here you always felt weak, not like in the Avengers compound. Home. A tiny voice whispers in your head.

Steve nods once before starting to pace, “we have to figure out a way out of here. These people, they look like they’re malnourished, and freezing we have to get them to safety.”

Curtis snorts and stands to his full height. He stands equal to Steve in height and build. You never noticed before, but they are almost carbon copies, besides Curtis’ dark hair and beard. They could almost be the same person.

“And how do you expect to do that? There’s nowhere to go outside of the train. We’ll all freeze to death the moment the doors open. Not to mention, the disabled and the children. The only way to ‘save us’ is to help us rebel against the front. To take the train.” Curtis gestures around as he speaks to show the state of the tail.

You nod then stop. “Wait if this is real, and I brought us here,” you gesture between yourself and Steve, “couldn’t I just bring everyone else back?” You stumble as you get to your feet feeling the gnawing hunger in your stomach. The dizziness you always felt here is a constant buzz behind your eyes.

Curtis immediately pulls you close with an arm around your waist. “Careful Sweetness, can’t have you hurting yourself.” He murmured into your crown.

“Before we do anything I need to have a look at you.” Steve pointedly looked at you, and you nodded. How do you explain everything here? How you always felt unwell here. “Can you give us a minute?” He asked Curtis.

Curtis hesitated looking at you first, before nodding and leaving you and Steve, closing the curtain behind him. Steve stood before you his hands on his hips. He was scowling at the floor trying to put his thoughts together. You swayed on your feet again, but there was no Curtis here to catch you now. Steve quickly lowered both of you to the floor pulling you close to him.

“I need you to tell me everything, I’m blind here. And you look like you are getting sicker and sicker by the second. Is it always like this?” You had already been vulnerable with Steve once today, might as well spill everything you knew about the tail and yourself here.

“I’m weak here, vulnerable,” you started shakily, the dizziness was coming in waves. It felt like they were crushing you every time you got a gasp of fresh air. “Curtis has always protected me. I always thought it was my brains way of letting me be vulnerable, you know? Like a coping mechanism for what we do. A place where someone looked after me, rather than…” you trailed off as visions of the corpses you saw with Steve floated into your mind.

Steve didn’t say anything, simply rubbing your arm and nodding. He urged you to continue with a small smile, “I don’t know much, but we have nothing here, very little food and no exposure to the rest of the train. Curtis and Gilliam have been planning, I don’t know exactly what, but it’s going to be big. A rebellion. They have a plan, a way for us to take the train and reclaim some of our dignity if nothing else.”

Steve hummed as he processed your words. Before he could respond Curtis was pulling the curtain behind you open. “You two should try and sleep, they're going to be coming by with protein block rations soon. I’ll make sure you both get some.”

You smiled up at Curtis and he offered you his hand to pull you to your feet. You let him pull you into his chest, and you nuzzled into him. Although you only had rationed showers in the tail, Curtis’ scent had always meant safety, and you gulped down his scent like you would never smell it again.

He walked you and Steve over to your cubby. Steve watched as Curtis gingerly helped you into the cubby, then leaned in to kiss your forehead. There was a dusting of pink on his cheeks when he pulled back enough to allow Steve to climb in behind you. He made sure to leave his shield on his back, in case of any more unexpected departures.

Surprisingly Steve cuddled himself up to your back. An arm thrown around your waist and his face buried in the back of your neck. “I hate the cold,” he whispered. It was so quiet you weren’t sure you even heard him correctly. “How can you stand it here?”

You snorted a short laugh, “I mean normally I’m wearing way more than just a stealth suit…” you trailed off. Steve had never been this open with you. This whole day, it was like you had been with a totally different person, more like Curtis. Not to mention this was the most physical contact you had had in, god how long had it been?

“So are you and Curtis…?” Steve let his question trail off. You felt heat raise in your face at his words. What were you and Curtis?

“I don’t know. I didn’t even know he was real until twenty minutes ago, I thought he was figment of my imagination. He’s - he’s a good man, and a strong leader. He wants to protect us all.” You knew that didn’t really answer Steve’s question but you also didn’t have an answer. None of this was supposed to be real!

Steve simply nodded and tucked himself as close he could. You could feel him shivering from the cold of the tail section. The guilt began then. It was your fault Steve was here, your fault he was likely reliving a terrible moment, the moment he thought he was going to die. You slowly turned yourself over so you were facing him. Steve only looked at you curiously, not sure what you were doing. You reached for him and he let you pull him close offering your warmth and comfort as best you could.

It was then you felt the crash of dizziness, much like it had hit you at the hospital. “Steve…ugh I think…” your vision was narrowing, but you made sure to keep a firm grasp on him. Not willing to leave Steve behind in what would likely be his worst nightmare. Before the blackness took you over completely you felt him grip you tightly.

And then nothing.

#dream a little dream of me #chris evans #steve rogers #curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #steve rogers x reader #reader insert

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wen-kexing-apologist · 4 months ago

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Bengiyo's Queer Cinema Syllabus

Oh hello again everyone! Apologies to the three people who are probably interested in this syllabus journey for falling off the face of the earth for the last few months. Had a lot of life changes and travel going on and have not been falling desperately behind in all of the things I have been watching. Now that I am back home for more than two days at a time, I figured I should get back into the swing of things with @bengiyo’s queer cinema syllabus.. With this post I am officially wrapping up Unit 4: Heartbreak Alley and will get to reap my reward with Lesbians and Gems for Units 5 and 6. As a reminder the films in Unit 4 are: Bent (1997), Strange Fruit (2004), Boys Don’t Cry (1999), Brokeback Mountain (2005), Parting Glances (1986), Philadelphia (1993), The Living End (1992), Holding the Man (2015), Jeffery (1995), and Boys on the Side (1995)

Today I will be talking about:

Boys on the Side (1995) dir. Herbert Ross

[Run Time: 1:55, I watched it through Plex, Language: English]

Summary: Robin shares a ride in her car with Jane from New York to Los Angeles. They stop at Jane's friend Holly's place in Pittsburgh and take her with them west, making a long stop in Tucson. The three very different women become close friends.

Cast: - Whoopi Goldberg as Jane - Mary-Louise Parker as Robin - Drew Barrymore as Holly

___

OKAY. Shout out to me for getting through the final film in Heartbreak Alley without crying!

A trend I have noticed throughout the sad films in this section is that the vast majority of them hold the sadness until the end, which is super fair, but also something I would consider to be rather kind. Maybe it’s just me, but seeing Mysterious Skin so early on in this syllabus really altered my perception of what a difficult movie looked and felt like. The movie that compromised me the most in this unit was far and away Strange Fruit, which sits in the Mysterious Skin camp of being great and also something I will struggle to ever watch again. By comparison, a lot of the Heartbreak Alley films were fine.

I liked how much Boys on the Side was about the bonds between women and the importance of found family. I love a movie where the premise is: girls do crime and then hit the road together. I like how expertly this film was able to pull back the layers on Robin, until you hit the reveal of her HIV diagnosis. When we first meet her, she’s just a kind of put together, somewhat annoying and anal white woman that wants to hit the road for god knows what reason, and you (and Jane) roll your eyes a little at how often she is sanitizing things.

And then she vomits, and you can kind of just dismiss it as the allergies she says it is.

And then Jane leaves the car to go see Holly and Robin uses that moment alone to take some medication, and things start to unravel. She goes to bed really early, she looks haggard the longer they are endurance testing their driving on the road. Something is definitely wrong with her, and BOOM, she’s collapsed and is hospitalized, and you find out she’s HIV positive.

I liked how distinct all three of the main characters felt, and I liked their friendship with one another. The full blown, silent conversations that can pass between them. I like the little moments in a slice of life, the birthday parties, the dancing, Jane making Robin shout “Cunt” because she feels uncomfortable referring to her vagina. I liked that having HIV was just a detail in her life, and that the movie itself didn’t feel like An AIDS Movie.

Even though Robin is surrounded by red the whole time, something which I usually associate with AIDS itself because of blood and red ribbons. Robin’s car is red, the lighting in her first hospital room is read, the list of plumbers and landlords she leaves on the fridge at her old apartment in New York is red, they settle in Tuscon, they live in a house made of red clay. But she is never the one that is painted in it. She never wears red, she is not the one painted by it. Jane is the one that bleeds in this film, Jane is the one washed in the red lights of the hospital. But the bigger instances of red: the car, the house contains an entire life inside it. A friendship. Happiness, sadness, anger, joy. You barely even notice that it’s there.

When Robin’s initial case of pneumonia was resolved, the doctor wasn’t worried about it, and even though Robin did pass by the end of the film, the movie itself wasn’t about her dying of AIDS. It was about the friendship between Jane, Robin, and Holly. At least that’s how it felt for me.

Definitely my favorite part of this film was that Robin was allowed to be absolutely pissed and to kick Jane out of the house when Jane revealed her status to the man Robin liked. Jane was just trying to be helpful, and the man himself was very chill and totally fine with her status. But Jane didn’t have a right to disclose that information.

I want to know more about the writers of this film, because I liked that the person in the movie who had AIDS was not the former drug user, or the queer person, but the heterosexual, cisgender, white real estate agent. That it seems to have been a little bit of time since she got her diagnosis, and she’s got a handle on how she is dealing with her grief. She doesn’t pity herself, once Jane and Holly know about it, she’s very casual with her references to the blood tests she needs, etc.

Even if AIDS is a death sentence still in a movie like this one, I still think the film itself is kind about how they portray it. Robin can still be there for the people she cares about. She can get a very violent situation under control, she can fly across the country and testify to try to help Holly, she brings Jane happiness, music, fun. She doesn’t want a funeral, she wants a big party in the house they shared. She makes it long enough to tell Jane she was loved, to go home and meet Holly’s baby.

We don’t have to watch her die, and even though the last scene of the film itself is an empty house, the understanding that Robin is dead, we don’t have to see her mother, who already lost her husband and her son, mourn her, we don’t have to watch her die. And we are immediately handed the end credit title cards that are just a compilation of the happy moments between Jane, Holly, and Robin. They don’t make you sit in the emotions there for very long. You get the sad scene of Robin seeing the visage of her dead brother, telling Jane what she wants to happen after she’s passed. And then it is immediately followed with a birth, with happiness and humor. You get the happiness of the baby shower when Holly gets out of prison and then the sadness of a shared song and an empty house, and Jane painting her nails in the car as she continues on her journey. And then you get Robin’s face, smiling away, laughter, chaos, joy at all these little moments in the film.

A good movie to end this section on, both as a wind down piece and as an appetizer for Unit 5: Lesbians.

Favorite Moment

I think my favorite moment of the film was when Jane and Robin meet Abe for the first time. Mostly because it is absolutely fucking hilarious to watch the paragraphs of silent, judgemental conversation they are having with each other while simultaneously trying to process that Holly who accidentally murdered a guy is dating a cop. It was truly such an expert portrayal of the psychic connections you forge between close friends.

Favorite Quote

“Everyone go potty, we don’t want to have to stop,”

I know what you are thinking. “Wen, why the fuck is that your favorite quote of the film?” It’s because of the context. Picture this, you have entered an apartment that is not your own after seeing through the window that the person who responded to your newspaper ad looking for a road trip buddy is in a fight with a random guy. The apartment you enter is a mess and your road trip buddy and her friend are bleeding at the hands of an abusive, drug dealing, asshole. You have managed to get the situation under control once already through sheer force of reasonable suggestion, only to have it ruined when this woman you do not know hits the abusive fucker over the head with a baseball bat.

THEN because you don’t want to murder him, but you also don’t want him to catch up to you, you and these two women you barely know, tie this man to a chair with rope and duct tape. You have thought through the timing of how long it will take him to break through the binds and have thought about the noise and found a music disc that will last long enough to give you one hell of a head start. You are standing next to this guy who just beat up two people you barely know, who you have hog tied, and who is bleeding from his temple, and in the flattest, most mother telling her child to do a simple task way, you suggest that everyone uses the potty before they essentially enter a getaway car and escape from the scene of this assault. It was just so fucking funny to me.

Score

8/10

I enjoyed the movie, but I think I wanted a little bit more attention and depth on Jane and less on Holly. I think there were a few too many threads going on, and that some of the set up was unnecessary. But I had a good time.

And that’s it! I have finished Unit 4, I have so many more films to watch, but I inch ever closer to getting to rewatch Big Eden so onward I charge!

#bengiyo queer cinema syllabus #queer cinema syllabus #queer cinema #boys on the side #boys on the side (1995)#unit 4: heartbreak alley #bent #strange fruit #boys dont cry #brokeback mountain #parting glances #philadelphia #the living end #holding the man #jeffrey

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