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sunder-soul · 3 years ago

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𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖉𝖔𝖛𝖊

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Chapter One: There's just something about those Riddle murders that doesn't quite make sense... Wordcount: 2.3k Content warning: language, allusions to bigotry.

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Name: MORFIN GORMLAITH GAUNT

Age: 46

Wand: fir, 10 ¾ inches, dragon heartstring

Residence: Gaunt Estate, Little Hangleton, Yorkshire

Marital status: -

Offense charge: three counts of murder in the primary degree

Date of charged offense: 1st July, 1943

Offense Detail: prisoner entered the residence of the Riddle family (Muggle, IM-00) and inflicting the Killing Curse (UC-001-1717) upon the three members of the Riddle family present; Thomas Riddle (63), Mary Riddle (60), and their son Tom Riddle (37). Use of the Killing Curse has been confirmed by Prior Incantato (see report DMLE-619-1951-BLE, SA: Robert Odgen).

Date of Testimony: 3rd July, 1943

Prisoner plea: guilty

Sentence: Azkaban, 360 years

Date of Sentence: 3rd July, 1943

You frown.

It’s very late, the candle your desk is barely a stub, the little flame hovering nervously on the surface of a broad pool of wax, and you’ve been copying over these stupid reports to the new, tamper-proof parchment forms for seven hours now – but something is extremely odd about these dates.

“McCollin,” you say slowly. “Did you work this case?”

“Hmm?” McCollin doesn’t look up at the desk beside you, head resting heavily on one hand and his spine curled into a perfect and truly concerning C-shape over his own stack of files. He looks close to passing out right there and then, salt-and-pepper hair a little greasy, scruffy five o’clock shadow, eyes bleary and shadowed.

“Gaunt,” you read, “1943. You were working with Odgen then, right?”

He snorts. “Yeah, I remember that nutter.”

“What happened?”

“Guy was from one of those ancient pure-blooded clans, you know, one of the real fanatical ones, inbreeding and liquidated assets and all,” McCollin yawns, dragging his hand down his face and smearing ink across his whiskered cheek. “Hated Muggles like nobody’s business."

“Yeah he killed three Muggles, right?” you peer at the report.

McCollin nods at the form he's copying. “Went off the deep end one day. Walked right up to their house and murdered ‘em. When they brought him in he was ranting and raving about how they’d had it coming for years.”

“He was arrested, charged, and sentenced within three days,” you say slowly.

He finally looks up at you. “So?”

“That’s the fasted processing I’ve ever seen.”

“The guy admitted to it, kiddo,” McCollin says in deadpan, “he had snakes nailed to his door and his family tree was basically a Christmas wreath.”

“Yeah, but… what made he snap?”

He laughs again, shaking his head despondently as he returns to his form. “You got a lot to learn.”

His tone wants to be fond but it just strikes you as patronising, especially considering the amount of times people have said that exact same stupid line to you. It’s like half the bloody department think being Muggle-born makes you incapable of understanding the subtle and unique intricacies of wizarding culture – as if bigotry and supremacists and assholes are exclusive to the magical world. “What?” you say a little too defensively.

“Families like that… guys like that… they’re not right in the head. Hate Muggles just to hate ‘em, reckon they’re all that’s wrong with the world. Honestly it’s a miracle he didn’t do it sooner.”

You look back down at the report, suspicions anything but assuaged. “Yeah,” you say quietly, “it is.”

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

“Did you ever watch Gaunt’s testimony?”

“You’re still going on about that?” McCollin drawls, heaving the towering box of finished files up a bit as he heads for the lifts.

“I looked him up in Records and the memory’s only available with supervisor permission,” you push, following him quickly. “If you signed me off then I could get Owler to –”

He slams the button and stares at the little golden arrow above the elevator grate slowly sliding towards the basement floor. “And why in Merlin’s name do you want to watch the Gaunt trial?”

You slip your hands into the pockets of your purple Ministry robes. “I’m interested.”

“Interested,” he echoes, shooting you a look. “Is that so?”

“He was processed in three days, McCollin. If it was that obvious he was guilty, it must have been one hell of a trial.”

“It was,” he scoffs as the lift dings and the grate grinds to a noisy open. “Fine, but only if you finish Johan’s quota by five.”

The triumph is impossible to keep off your face and McCollin rolls his eyes at your immediate glee. “I’m on it,” you grin, spinning around and racing back to your desk to get started.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

“Merlin’s beard,” McCollin mutters, shaking his head at the stack of completed transcripts. “I gotta hold stuff over your head more often.”

“Just sign the slip, McCollin,” you smirk.

He sighs and grabs the quill from your hand, and you hold your breath as he scribbles his initials on the slip. “You’re obsessed,” he drawls.

You seize the slip and round on the lift, heart racing with excitement. “I’m interested.”

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

The trial is absolutely insane.

Morfin Gaunt looks like a Witch Weekly cartoon caricature of a fanatical blood-purist and he rambles in a manic-edged, ceaseless torrent about how much he enjoyed murdering the Riddles as the Wizengamot mutters and blithers disapprovingly for about three hours – but something catches your attention right near the end. Something you can’t help but ask Owler about the second the memory ends and you’re thrown back into the Records Room.

“Who’s Merope?”

Owler’s sallow face looks about as thrilled at your question as he was at your request for the memory in the first place. “Merope Gaunt,” he says in a flat, nasally voice, waving his wand at the Pensieve and sending the memory swirling back into its phial.

“Merope Gaunt?”

Owler’s thin, anaemic lips downturn even more. “His sister.”

You stare at him. It is not at all what you’d expected. “And why did he call his sister a mud-soused, scumsucking slut?”

“Ask your supervisor.”

“He seemed to be saying he killed those people because of Merope, why on earth would his sister be why he –”

“I keep the records, I don’t conduct the investigations,” Owler interrupts with not inconsiderable disdain. “Now if you could please –”

“Did they bring Merope in for testimony?”

Owler gives your continuing presence a very dirty look. “No.”

“Why not?”

He pushes the door to the Records room open and stares at you.

You try to hold your ground but Owler is unrelenting, and you're forced to step past him with a curt sigh. “Right, well, good afternoon, Owler, thanks for –”

The door slams shut behind you.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

“Get what you wanted?” McCollin smirks as you collapse stony-faced into your chair.

“I forgot how impressively unpleasant it is to talk to Owler,” you mutter, resting your head in your hands. “Did you know about Merope?”

“Merope?”

“Yeah, Morfin’s sister.”

“Didn’t know he had one,” McCollin says disinterestedly.

“He was saying some stuff that made it sound like she’s why he killed those Muggles.”

“Uh huh.”

You lift your head, giving him an incredulous look. “He said she’s why he murdered three people, McCollin. How does that not interest you?”

McCollin throws down his quill and sighs sharply. “Look kiddo, the guy’s rotting in Azkaban, he admitted to the murders, they found the curses in his wand, and he had a memory of the whole thing. What exactly are you hoping to achieve here?”

You can barely believe it. “Why isn’t Merope Gaunt mentioned in any of his trial documents?” you say sharply.

“Either she wasn't relevant to the proceedings, or she's dead, or he made her up,” McCollin shrugs, “like I said, the guy went off the deep end.”

“But why doesn’t it say –”

“Just drop it,” he sighs impatiently, “you have work to do, and I won’t have you wasting clocked time on some case from nearly a decade ago.”

“Come on, McCollin, can’t you admit that it’s weird that –”

“I said drop it,” he says sharply, “don’t make me be the big mean supervisor here, you know I hate it.”

You glare at him. “Fine,” you say through gritted teeth.

It’s almost too easy to pull Morfin’s old file from where it’s still sitting in the refuse pile and subtly charm a copy of it that evening.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

Merope Gaunt, as far as you can tell, fucking vanished off the face of the earth in 1925.

There’s nothing, no addresses, no marriage or death notice, no registered Floo connections, no DRC calls for gnomes or doxies or even the odd kappa, not a single trace of her after Morfin and their father Marvolo had a stint in Azkaban for assaulting Bob Odgen back in the 20s.

It seems like the second they were locked up, she scarpered.

You sit back in the Archives Hall and let out a long breath, flipping the folder shut dejectedly. Morfin’s file is a thick wad of anti-Muggle hate crimes rivalled only by his father’s, and closer inspection had revealed that the Gaunt family estate sat a cool twenty minutes' walk from Riddle House where the murders had occurred. If Morfin had lived so close to some of the Muggles he hated so much, he’d been sitting on a clear motive for murder for years.

So why suddenly snap?

What had pushed him over the edge?

Why did he cite Merope in his deranged testimony?

Why talk about her in that way?

Where the hell did she go?

There are endless questions and zero answers. Plus, you kind of get the feeling that if McCollin saw you hunched in the Archives after-hours trying to find those answers, you’d get your pay docked.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

That night, you sit bolt upright in bed with a surge of electric realisation.

Mud-soused… scumsucker…

You’ve heard that language before. You’ve processed about four hundred case files of harassment with that language.

“Idiot,” you breathe, smacking your forehead and falling back onto your pillows with a thump. “Idiot, of course…”

Because that’s the way Pure-blood extremists talk about witches and wizards who've fallen in love with Muggles.

Suddenly, you have a pretty good idea where Merope might have disappeared to the moment her blood-obsessed brother and father were out of the picture, and a pretty good idea of where you might be able to look to find her. Because you’ve been looking in the wrong place.

You’ve been looking for her in the wizarding world.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

“I have the craziest news for you,” you grin, slamming a silver Sickle on the counter and taking your seat at the bar.

“You say that twice a month,” Mori grumbles, setting your drink down and sliding the coin into his huge, calloused hand.

“It’s true twice a month.”

“It’s true half as much as you think.”

“I found her.”

Mori’s dark brows raise. It makes his gruff face look slightly less intimidating. “The lady from that old case you're into?”

“Yeah,” you beam, seizing your drink and leaning forward. “Started going through marriage certificates, and –”

“You’re telling me that your big-shot Ministry intern arse has been working this thing for a month and you didn’t even check marriage certificates?”

“Not Muggle ones,” you smirk.

Mori takes a glass off the bar and starts to clean it as he peers at you. “Go on.”

“She married the same guy her brother murdered, Mori,” you breathe, glancing around to make sure none of the shady denizens of Moribund’s are listening – it’s not like the bar's regular patrons are so welcoming to your big-shot Ministry intern arse on the best of days considering you’re half-way down Knockturn Alley in the dead of night. “They fucking ran away together!”

“Well, that explains a lot,” Mori mutters.

“Exactly!”

“What are you going to do about it?”

You shrug, taking a sip of your drink and feeling supremely pleased with yourself.

“What, you spent that much time investigating this thing for no reason?”

“Nah,” you say quietly, lips still in a smile. “I have a feeling there’s more to it than this. I still have to find out what happened to her after they got married and her brother murdered his new in-laws.”

“And what’s this guy’s name again?”

You give him a dry look. “You know I can’t tell you names, Mori, I’m pushing the bounds of my contract telling you this much already.”

He shrugs his massive shoulders, casting a wary look around the dark bar. “If you’re looking for people who might know a thing or two about murderers and Muggle-haters, you’ve come to the right place.”

“I’m here to talk to you, Mori, not the murderers and Muggle-haters.”

“You’re here to drink cheap and rant to someone who won’t rat you out to your boss,” he growls.

You give him another grin. “Cheers to that.”

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

You find Merope’s name in a record tome of an old church parish almost by accident. There’s barely any information there, just one name on a huge list of those buried in the pauper’s graveyard less than ten blocks from where you’re sat amongst the looming shelves of the Muggle public archives at that exact moment.

But there is something.

It says she died in a place called 'Wool’s Orphanage' on New Year’s Eve in 1926. It’s not hard to guess why she might have been there, and how she probably died.

Merope Gaunt had a child.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

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accioromione · 4 years ago

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okay im a Romione shipper but I always had this question..you know how harry + hermione are like brother and sister, why is it that although Ron and Hermione met and grew up with each-other during the same time, they developed feelings, why did this never happen for Harry or Hermione?

Ouuu you got yourself an analysis. I did feel lazy to write...but I’m going into essay mode now. Literally I can make a video on this lol.

Okay so obviously for there to be mutual attraction- both parties have to like each-other. So I will explain why they both don’t like each-other like that individually.

Let’s start with Mr. Harry Potter.

Now we know he doesn’t think she’s ugly. But if you read the books, even in Hermione’s Yule Ball scene, he never has a physical reaction to her. When he described her looking pretty it was just that, ‘she looked pretty.’ With Cho and Ginny however, we see that he describes their looks alongside a physical reaction he has to them, when he see’s cho there’s a ‘jolt in his stomach’ and later Ginny, ‘a raging monster in his chest,’ he never experiences this with Hermione. So although he doesn't think she’s unattractive, he himself, is personally not physically attracted to her in a way that renders a reaction.

Next, remember that Ron and Hermione are Harry’s FIRST friends. He did not grow up with a sister, and the only relative his age is Dudley, who bullies and abuses Harry. He’s mentioned as having no friends in school, and he’s been isolated his whole life. It makes sense that he would develop a family like connection with the first people in his life to show him affection. Look at how attached he got to Hagrid, because Hagrid was the first adult figure in his life who helped him. After Ron and Hermione, he has two friends, it makes sense that he would not be as attached to the next people he meets from then on.

Hermione’s personality is not one that Harry is attracted to romantically. As a friend, yes. But romantically, she is quite the opposite. The reason he loses attraction for Cho is because she becomes emotional after Cedric’s death. Harry hates this. Harry does not deal with emotion well at all. And this is a result of developing humour as a defence mechanism for abuse and trauma. Harry wants someone he can joke with, someone he can escape his trauma with. He simply is uncomfortable around highly emotional people. Hermione is a highly emotional person, she cries a lot, and is very passionate about things. Harry wants a ‘chill’ girl a ‘go with the flow’ girl and Hermione is anything but. He does not want to play the comforter, he is so uncomfortable around emotions that people have speculated that was due to he Voldemort inside him. However, I think it’s because after years of trauma, abuse, being an orphan, losing so many loved ones, he turned off his emotions, rather than deal with the tragic reality that was his life. If he wasn’t able to do this, he would not have been able to defeat Voldemort in the first place. Ginny is perfect with Harry here, because she grew up with six brothers, she is essentially the ‘chill’ girl Harry is looking for.

Hermione questions him. One of Harry’s flaws, that also kind of makes him a hero in the process, is that he is confident in his plans and abilities. He does not like being questioned. Hermione does not blindly listen to Harry, she questions him and does it often. Much to Harry’s annoyance. In OOTP when she questions him, and says he has a saving people thing, he gets so angry with the fact that she could even think he’s wrong, and does not consider for a second that he just might be. Hermione’s always the first to nag Harry about what he does, and Harry despises this. Example, when Hermione lectures Harry about the Prince’s book because of what Harry did to Malfoy.

“I won’t say ‘I told you so,’ ” said Hermione, an hour later in the common room. “Leave it, Hermione,” said Ron angrily.

Harry had never made it to dinner; he had no appetite at all. He had just finished telling Ron, Hermione, and Ginny what had happened, not that there seemed to have been much need (…)

“I told you there was something wrong with that Prince person,” Hermione said, evidently unable to stop herself. “And I was right, wasn’t I?” “No, I don’t think you were,” said Harry stubbornly. He was having a bad enough time without Hermione lecturing him; the looks on the Gryffindor team’s faces when he had told them he would not be able to play on Saturday had been the worst punishment of all.

Give it a rest, Hermione!” said Ginny, and Harry was so amazed, so grateful, he looked up. “By the sound of it, Malfoy was trying to use an Unforgivable Curse, you should be glad Harry had something good up his sleeve!”

“Well, of course I’m glad Harry wasn’t cursed!” said Hermione, clearly stung. “But you can’t call that Sectumsempra spell good, Ginny, look where it’s landed him! And I’d have thought, seeing what this has done to your chances in the match —”

“Oh, don’t start acting as though you understand Quidditch,” snapped Ginny, “you’ll only embarrass yourself.

See the difference between the two? Even Ron gets Harry...Hermione just doesn't have that stop button. She doesn't really care about how a person feels, if they’re wrong, well, they’re wrong. She doesn’t just do this with Harry. But for someone like Harry, who already thinks the world is against him, this is a big deal. He needs someone like Ginny who will defend him, not someone like Hermione who will question him.

She’s not fun enough for Harry. Harry likes adventure, Harry likes humour, but Harry can’t do it alone. He vibes off of the people he’s around. It makes sense, Harry deep down, is a very sad person. When he’s left with someone who isn’t lightening the mood, he can easily be dulled out. As we see in GOF,

"You miss him!" Hermione said impatiently. "And I know he misses you -"

"Miss him?" said Harry. "I don't miss him. . .

But this was a downright lie. Harry liked Hermione very much, but she just wasn't the same as Ron. There was much less laughter and a lot more hanging around in the library when Hermione was your best friend.

Ron and Harry are different in that Ron does not have the trauma Harry has. Ron doesn’t NEED to be filled with positive people all the time. He can simply BE the positive person. Hermione’s lack of humour in situations or seriousness, doesn’t impact Ron, because, well he can deal with it. He can make jokes on his own, just like Ginny can. Harry and Hermione are incapable of doing this, especially later on in the books. They need to be surrounded by people that bring out this side in them. Ron can stay silent for two hours with Hermione in the library and not think about Voldemort, Harry can’t, he needs a distraction, he needs people that are the ‘lives of the party.’

Hermione is too passionate about things for Harry. Harry- I have it worse Potter, cannot be bothered to debate about things like SPEW or care enough about Hermione’s school schedule. He simply has bigger things going on. He needs someone that understands this, that doesn’t add extra burden or stress into his already stressful life.

Now for Hermione,

Hermione is naturally a perfectionist and a worrier. This is not because she enjoys worrying, she simply cannot help it. Having someone like Harry, is a worrisome thing, she is CONSTANTLY worried about him. This is not something you would want on your significant other, with Ron, she’s more at ease, yes he has his problems, but, they’re simply not as excessive as Harry’s. She can avoid worrying as much when it comes to Ron, and simply enjoy her moments with him, this is something that brings her peace.

Hermione needs someone who values her opinions. Ron is that person. They are always fighting because Ron is actually listening to what Hermione has o say, he actually pays attention to her passions and interests. He doesn’t agree with them all the time, where as Harry I have worse potter, zones her out. In third year, Ron is wondering where she is all the time, he is confused about her schedule, Harry doesn’t care, the man who betrayed his parents escaped Azkaban, whats a few more extra classes? Hermione, as passionate as she is, needs that, she needs someone who cares about what she does and why she does them.

Hermione needs someone who isn’t high-stress. Harry may not be high-stress with school, but he is high-stress in general. Hermione is the queen of being high-stress, she needs someone to reduce that anxiety, not elevate it. And Ron is just that person.

Hermione needs someone who can take her criticism. When she tells Harry he’s wrong or has the wrong idea, Harry is furious with her. Where as although Ron gets mad, he takes it better than Harry, or he challenges her in a way that tells her to explain why she thinks that instead of just being upset with her thinking it in the first place. Harry is simply more prideful than Ron, which is perfectly okay. Ron is able to put things aside, but Harry dwells. Hermione has easily been way more critical to Ron, but he gets over it. Ron having 5 older brothers who tease him, is more lenient towards critical remarks from Hermione. Harry is not. And Hermione simply cannot contain these remarks, she just can’t. Harry will not say anything and simply be like ‘Hermione is the worst’ Ron will be like ‘why are you saying that?’ Example with Scabbers, Hermione refuses to apologize, Ron TELLS her he just wants an apology. With Harry, he wouldn’t ask, he would just expect one. Ron is also able to get over it without an apology.

Ron is more emotional/ deals with emotions better. Hermione needs someone who can understand her emotions, because well, she’s an emotional person. Harry shuts out emotion, Ron, who has lived in a loving family, filled with hugs and Christmas and kisses, is used to showing emotion. He can handle her tears, he won’t run away at her crying. Every-time Hermione cries in the book Harry describes himself as being uncomfortable, where as Ron is either comforting her or approaching her in a way that shows the readers he isn’t scared of this. Hermione needs that in a significant other.

There are a bit more points to make as well, but I think that covers the jist- otherwise I can go on for hours. Because it is really amazing to me in just how obvious Ron and Hermione’s relationship differ from Harry and Hermione’s and just why that is

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cruddyborderlandstheories · 4 years ago

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I've mentioned this before a few times but seriously imagine if instead of Maya having to die (let's be real), Ava got Tyreen's powers and realizes being a Siren actually isn't as cool as it seems cuz whoops thousands of people are now hunting you for sport or experimentation and you can't touch anyone anymore without accidentally hurting them. You may now regret begging for the siren curse. Also, we'd actually get to see Maya train Ava as a Siren AND see what the phaseleech powers would have been like if they weren't broken between two people and the Phasewalk/lock powers weren't thrown into the mix.

Yes I'm still on this alt. Scenario because I think it would have been really cool and helped develop Ava as a character since her entire thing up until Maya's death was literally just "I'm going to be a Siren Vault Hunter" and then at the end of the story she just gets it without really working for any of it or even being prominent in the plot at all. She shows up, like, twice and then disappears until Troy dies. She literally just shows up at the end of the Troy fight and gets powers for that cutscene. I don't hate Ava but I will admit that was kind of a 'forced' moment for me. I knew what they were trying for, but damn they really missed the mark trying to make Ava Maya's lil trainee cuz we barely see them interact, and Maya isn't even alive long enough after her introduction to have the two of them talk beyond arguing. Im guessing a lot of their interactions were cut, and maybe also because Athenas was only a single map, but still.

And yeah okay for Ava to get powers, Maya dies and I guess that can be considered a drawback for her, but let's be real the issue I truly have with this whole thing is that Ava doesn't even work a BIT on screen to prove to the players she's a good choice (and in fact 2 of her most prominent moments are her disobeying a fan favorite character that then dies- it doesn't help her case). Maya dies, but that's not Ava's fault imo, and so Ava does literally nothing the whole story (I'm down for arguments either way, but the minute Maya decided holding Troy physically instead of using her Phaselock was somehow the better option when she knows at least one of those siblings can give others the deadly suck by physically touching them, my brain just shuts off) and she also learns nothing. If anything, she probably learns that if she just yells it enough at people, she'll get what she wants, cuz that's pretty much the extent of what she does in the main story beyond being sad and lockpicking (u wanna leave Athenas? Okay. You get your wish. You wanna be a Siren? Okay. Here's some powers. You wanna be a Vault Hunter? Okay. Here's the ship. Everything she yells about in the beginning of the game is handed to her just because um. Maya, I guess. She earns none of it herself). If, instead of it being Maya's powers, she got Tyreen's powers as one last "fuck you" to the Raiders, I think it'd make it feel a bit more like she's not just being handed everything she wants without working for any of it or learning a lesson because plot. Her character doesn't really change from the start of the story to the end, except that she's a bit sad that Maya died. It just feels so wrong. Idk. I think it'd be pretty cool if Ava accidentally hurt someone in the Raiders because she couldn't control her new powers so she could have that "oh shit" realization moment that a) being a Siren isn't all it's chalked up to be and b) she's gonna have to work to get her powers under control or risk hurting everyone around her. Her having that hurdle I think would have made a lot more people at the very least appreciate her as a character instead of calling for her death (yikes!)

Uh. Yeah. I have no idea what came over me to write this. I think Ava's biggest flaw to me is that she had Potential to be a good character but the writing fell flat under her. It started a story with her and then dropped it (like another character we know 🤔 his name rhymes with... boy), so she never really develops or learns beyond getting sad that Maya is gone. I don't hate her, but I can see why some people would, tho it's not really "her" fault, it's the writing, if that makes any sense.

Also, interesting note, I do consider Roland's death to be because Lilith ignored Angel's request and showed up, unlike Maya's. I don't think Jack would have shown up in control core Angel unless he thought there was very, very good reason to, and Lilith was Right There for the taking. He seemed to even plan that out, having the collar on him and everything, and Angel knew to warn them specifically because of that. Before that, Angel tells Jack that Maya is incapable of processing eridium like her (either due to ignorance or a desire to stop Maya from having a similar fate to her own) so Jack wouldn't have brought the collar for Maya. That said, it's fully Jack's fault Roland died and the blood is on his hands, I just don't think the situation would have played out the same without Lilith there.

Unlike that, I think the situation in the Vault of the Rampager would have happened regardless if Ava showed up or not. I always assumed the cutscene that happens when you 'leave' the Vault is actually what's happening while you're inside, and when the VHs walk out, Ava is alone.

If that's the case then Maya would have been alone when the twins showed up, and probably would have been done for like Lilith was, as Lilith is supposedly the More Powerful Siren. We'll never know for sure, but I get the feeling things would have played out pretty much the same. It's not like the twins showed up for Ava, they wanted the Rampager, and the Rampager was already dead when Ava made herself known. Maya's alone, against 2 cult leaders with no way of contacting the other VHs cuz they're in the Vault and Tannis is the only one who apparently can (since Maya does not have a freaky live action pop up ad, good for her) and echoing is a no go as it's established connection is awful down below the city. She can only Phaselock 1 person at a time, so she either Phaselocks Tyreen (if she even can) and gets dusted by Troy, or she Phaselocks Troy and gets her powers stolen (and probably killed or left to die by cultist) by Tyreen. No winning for her. It would have happened regardless if Ava was there or not, so people blaming Ava for Maya's death should probably just blame the finalized script.

I don't think it's right to blame either Lilith or Ava for their respective loved one's death. Like yeah Jack wouldn't have gotten that opportunity to kill Roland had Lilith not shown up, but Jack wasn't suddenly forced to pull the trigger because Lilith showed up. He did that all by himself. Similarly, Ava not showing up wouldn't have stopped the twins from attacking Maya. She just changed the topic of conversation a lil bit. And Ava has all the combat ability of thin air at this point, so her appearance or non-apperance made no difference whatsoever when it was Maya vs the twins.

Oh God I've been typing for like an hour BYE bed time for me

#Borderlands #H2o au #Borderlands 3 #Bl3

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megalony · 4 years ago

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Heartbeat- Part 3

Here is the third part of my Ben Hardy series involving Gwilym, I hope you will all like it.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogermeddow @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @peterquillzsblog @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg

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Summary: Ben and (Y/n) haven’t been together long when they find out their pregnant. But (Y/n) fears she’ll lose the baby after suffering miscarriages before with her ex, Gwilym who is making things complicated.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the same waiting room, it always was. (Y/n) knew where to go off by heart, she walked these gleaming halls in her sleep when her mind wanted her to suffer or jolt awake and wonder if her life was suddenly repeating itself over and over.

This part of (Y/n)'s life was almost a routine and she hated how traumatising it was to repeat herself over and over like she was just getting up and going to work. The only difference in this routine was that it was Ben walking these halls with her instead of Gwilym. It was Ben holding her hand, looking around worriedly yet curiously and it was Ben who was being hopeful since (Y/n) didn't remember what hope felt like anymore.

It was clear by her expression that she was not a new mother happy to go and have a scan. (Y/n)'s expression was both blank yet annoyed like she was on her way to the principal's office.

"I know this is distressing but can you please talk to me?"

It took everything Ben had not to sound ill-tempered or uncaring because that wasn't his intention but he couldn't help but sound the tiniest bit irritated. (Y/n) had hardly said two words to him today and he couldn't pry any kind of response out of her no matter how hard he tried. Ben didn't know what else to do but to try and be a bit hopeful today but it was hard when (Y/n) walked around looking like she hated the world.

Upon hearing his words, (Y/n) slowed down her walk until she was slowly shuffling her feet across the polished tiles and her head was turned to look at Ben who was pulling on her hand to get her to walk beside him instead of slightly in front of him.

"I just want to get this over with, we can talk about it at home. This will last five minutes at most." (Y/n)'s words were defeated and her eyes were tired and bleak.

"That's assuming we've lost the baby, right? What are you going to do if we haven't lost them, are you still going to act like you're not pregnant?"

(Y/n) rubbed at her sore eyes with the base of her hand as she felt the need to cry but she didn't have the energy or the will to even try any more. She could sense the pain in Ben's words because he wasn't being inconsiderate or rude, he was being practical. He didn't know how she was going to react if the baby was okay and he had no idea how (Y/n) was going to carry on if they hadn't lose the baby afterall. She had already told herself what to expect today but if it turned out different, (Y/n) would be stumped.

Ben wondered if (Y/n) was still going to brush off the subject until it was impossible to ignore it any longer, he wondered if she was going to be paranoid the whole pregnancy or if something would go wrong and how she would take it.

"Every time I come here, I go home empty like they've stolen the baby from me and all they can do is offer counselling that doesn't work. When you miscarry three tines they run tests but I'm perfectly fine, Ben. I'm not sick, I'm not incapable of carrying to full term, I don't have a weak cervix, I'm just not allowed this privilege. Why is this time going to be any different?"

Whenever (Y/n) allowed herself the luxury of believing that she could go home still pregnant, she was rudely awoken and brought back to reality and that crash landing was worse than simply preparing herself for the truth. It felt like every time (Y/n) turned up in this circumstance, the midwife took the baby from her and sent her home an empty shell and it was sickening. (Y/n) had all the tests they could offer to see why she couldn't go past fourteen weeks but nothing was wrong. (Y/n) wasn't sick, she had nothing wrong with her womb or Fallopian tubes or her blood or her DNA.

(Y/n) was healthy, she wasn't too young or too old, she didn't have a weakened cervix that couldn't hold the baby. Everything said she should be fine to have a baby but something in the universe said otherwise.

"Why is this time going to be the same?" Ben countered with narrowed eyes and his lips pressed into a straight line that made his expression look stern. (Y/n) couldn't see why it would be different but Ben couldn't see why it would always be the same if she was right and nothing was wrong.

(Y/n) had no words to come back at him with so she simply tugged on his hand and started walking in the direction of the waiting room.

When they got into the waiting area, (Y/n) almost felt sick when her feet were steering her towards the same chair she sat in the last two times she had been in this position. It was like history was trying to make her comfortable enough to repeat the past that was becoming an almost normal process for her.

All she wanted to do when she saw down was pull her knees up to her chest and bury her face in her knees or double over and rest her head in her hands. But if she ever did that then the other women and couples waiting in here would instantly know why she was here. She would get all eyes focused on her and murmurs would begin to spread and (Y/n) could not have that. She had already panicked herself worrying that someone in this hospital was going to recognise Ben and whispers and rumours would begin to spread, but it seemed like no one had recognised him yet.

It felt like they had only sat down for two seconds before a midwife was already calling out (Y/n)'s name. Every time it felt the same the moment she heard her name, (Y/n) wished for time to speed up until her appointment so she didn't have to worry or fret about the baby any longer. But as soon as her name was called out, (Y/n) was screaming for time to freeze and let her have a few more moments of uncertainty. She wanted to stay right here, right now just for a bit longer. Even if she had or thought she had lost the baby, the uncertainty meant that (Y/n) could still pretend.

(Y/n) didn't want to have the scan and go home now because when she got home she would have the same feeling of emptiness. She had already told herself that if she had lost this baby, she wasn't going to attempt to try again in the future.

There was no way that (Y/n) could put herself through this again for it to end the same way. After she left Gwilym, (Y/n) knew she wanted to attempt to have a baby but she couldn't keep trying and failing like this. If the baby was gone, (Y/n) was going to force herself to come to terms with not being able to naturally have a baby.

Ben's head turned to look down at (Y/n) when her hand tightened significantly around his the moment they were stood in the room. He could see the fear in her eyes when she looked over at the screen that would show their fate. He pressed his lips to the top of her head for a few seconds before (Y/n) shakily moved to sit on the bed. Her hand instantly reached out for Ben again until he let her death grip his hand, she'd never done this without holding someone's hand and she didn't want to start now.

"Okay, so I understand you've suffered miscarriages before and you've had some bleeding. Are you still bleeding now?" The midwife's voice was gentle and relaxed in a tone that showed she had asked this many times before.

"It's just spotting now." (Y/n) was desperate to wrap her free arm over her stomach and dig her nails into her arm out of nervous habit but the midwife was getting the gel so she couldn't. She had to settle for digging her nails into her thigh instead and hope that neither the midwife or the Ben noticed or said anything about it.

"Okay, do you know how many weeks you are?" She gestured for (Y/n) to lift her shirt as she spoke before she placed the gel onto her stomach.

"Ten weeks."

The midwife hummed with a very gentle smile before she pressed the wand to (Y/n)'s stomach and started moving it around. She turned the monitor a little so that they could see but (Y/n) turned her head the other way, she wasn't looking at that screen in case she got the news she was expecting. Looking only made the longing and the heartache worse and she wasn't going to do that to herself.

(Y/n) felt like she had been staring into an oblivion for hours before her head quickly snapped to the right to look at the blurry screen when she heard something that she hadn't listened to in over two years.

"B-but... no..." (Y/n) shook her head, not even bothering to wipe her eyes that were already beginning to drown her features with salty tears.

She knew what she felt. (Y/n) had felt that pain and seen that much blood too many times before to know that it meant she'd lost the baby. She'd had dull cramps and the bleeding didn't stop, not even today it was still very small spotting. How could there still be a heartbeat after that? Never had there still been a heartbeat, they had been lucky if they could even spot the baby on screen after that, let alone hear anything that suggested the worst hadn't happened.

Ben pulled (Y/n)'s hand to his lips and kissed the back of her hand but she barely felt the touch. She looked like she was almost angry to get this result and in some respects she was, (Y/n) felt like she had been played, she had been cheated and messed around and hurt for no reason.

"That's not right, I had a lot of bleeding... c-can't you do the internal ultrasound like last time?" (Y/n) knew she sounded desperate and she could see that she sounded like she should be asking them to tell her that her baby was alive rather than dead. But she couldn't help it, (Y/n) knew bleeding was sometimes normally during the early stages of pregnancy but she lost a lot just like her other miscarriages and she had felt the pains. If the baby had a heartbeat then surely something had to be wrong for her to go through that.

She'd had an internal ultrasound last time which was also to see if anything was wrong after having miscarriages before and the nurse last time had said it was more accurate. (Y/n) had gotten the result she had prayed for but it just didn't feel right.

"Baby, this is good news, it's okay." Ben whispered the words in her ear as he rested his temple against the side of her head but he could feel how she was beginning to shake and he could see the fear in her eyes. (Y/n) never got this result.

"The ultrasound is accurate, miss (Y/l/n), the baby is perfectly fine. But the reason you experienced the bleeding is because I think you were having twins but lost one. It's called vanishing twin syndrome and it's rather common, I'd like to take a blood sample, just to be sure."

(Y/n) felt a shiver running down her spine as she subconsciously pushed herself more into Ben as she slowly sat up straighter. She almost wanted to laugh at the absurdness of it and how she and Ben had both been right when he thought the baby was fine and she thought they'd lost them. It didn't seem possible to be able to lose one twin but still have the other one be fine and growing.

"That doesn't make it more likely to miscarry the baby, does it?" Ben briefly let go of (Y/n)'s hand so he could wrap his arm around her waist, holding her to his chest as he looked over at the midwife. It seemed unrealistic that something like this could happen but it made him wonder if they lost one twin, were they more at risk to lose this baby too?

"No, most women go on to experience no further problems at all and statistically it doesn't make mother or baby at any risk. But taking this into account and the previous miscarriages, you'll still have your twelve week scan and a few more checkups, just to make sure everything is going smoothly."

(Y/n) tried very hard to focus on the fact that she was still pregnant but her mind was desperate to focus on knowing that she had indeed lost another baby. It didn't seem right to lose one baby but still be pregnant at the same time, she had still failed yet passed at the same time and it was confusing. But (Y/n) had to focus on the baby she still had or she would go insane.

She was still pregnant, she had a baby with a heartbeat that was perfectly fine despite all the odds that stacked up against her for no reason. This hadn't happened to (Y/n) before, now she just had to make sure they got past fourteen weeks and had no more problems.

When it felt like the tears had finally stopped falling, (Y/n) allowed a smile to form on her lips but the tears almost started again when the midwife handed her a photo of the scan.

"Shit."

A frown pulled at Ben's lips as he tilted his head down to look at (Y/n), wondering what the problem was before he noticed the blood on her shirt sleeve and the small trail leaving her nose.

(Y/n) smiled in thanks to the midwife when she was quick to hand her a tissue but a gasp left her lips when she felt the blood suddenly pouring from her nose like a tap. Pressing the tissue to her nose with one hand, (Y/n) pinched the soft part of the bridge of her nose with the other and tipped her head forward.

"It's alright, very common during pregnancies."

(Y/n) could already feel a headache forming behind her eyes as she breathed through her mouth. Nosebleeds seemed to be the main side effect (Y/n) had in her other pregnancies, once even more than morning sickness and it wasn't the side effect she would choose if given the choice.

But she would take all the nosebleeds in the world if it meant that this baby was going to be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ben no-"

"We'll have to do this sooner or later, why not now?" Ben leaned his head on his hand, his elbow resting on the back of the sofa as he stared across at (Y/n) who was sitting on the other end of the sofa. Their legs were tangled together and Frankie was laid out on the foot stool a foot away from them like she was sleeping on her own little throne.

"Because it's tempting fate." A shudder ran down (Y/n)'s spine at the mere thought of pushing her luck to breaking point even with something as small as this.

(Y/n) could see the pain in Ben's eyes and the way he was trying his best to see this from her point of view but it was hard. They were at twelve weeks now and everything was going fine, there were no signs at all that something was wrong with the baby or was going to go wrong. Ben thought that now might be the time to start telling people about the baby or in the very least, talking about it and the future but (Y/n) wasn't so sure.

It felt like telling people would be tempting fate and could cause something to go wrong. (Y/n) would feel a lot better if they kept this to themselves for as long as possible and then tell people and think about it because it might be safer.

"So what do we do? Baby, I think it's fine to be cautious about this but what happens when you start to show? We'll have to start planning, getting stuff ready..."

Being cautious was fine with Ben, he didn't want to rush ahead or get ahead of themselves to suddenly crash land. But they had to start talking about things at some point, they needed to know what they were going to do about where to live, lest they wanted to stay living in different houses. They had to think about buying stuff and getting things ready for the baby in a few months. (Y/n) had to think when she wanted to tell people because she was going to start showing very soon.

"We're not at fourteen weeks yet, and I can still miscarry up to twenty four weeks or go into premature labour. I've never gotten past four months before, why can't we wait it out a bit longer?"

"Because of what you just said, baby. After fourteen weeks, you'll be panicking up to twenty four and then you'll be waiting for premature labour to happen. I know you, you'll panic and that's perfectly fine and normal, but the longer we wait, the less ready you're gonna be." Ben knew (Y/n) more than she would care to admit and he knew how badly she was going to panic.

The longer they waited, the worse it was going to be because once they past the fourteen week marker (Y/n) would be looking for the next worry sign and that was any week up to twenty four where she could still lose the baby. After that it was a waiting game where she would be so sure she would go into premature labour. Ben would never criticise her for panicking or expecting the worst, it was human nature.

But right now, putting off telling people or planning or even thinking about the baby would make (Y/n) less reluctant to ever get to grips with this.

"Why don't we just tell a few people, just family for now? Then at what, five months, we can tell friends and everyone else. We don't have to plan everything out now anyway but it would be nice to be able to talk about the baby now."

Ben pushed himself forward until he was sitting up with his arms resting on his thighs, looking over at (Y/n).

"O-okay, but you can't tell Joe." (Y/n) shook her head, biting her lip when she noticed the way Ben frowned in confusion. Ben wasn't planning on telling many people, it was mainly his parents and probably his manager because things would need to be sorted out so that he didn't leave for any work when the baby was born. But he would want to tell Joe soon, they were close friends.

"Why?"

"Because he'll tell Gwil." (Y/n) knew Joe wouldn't do it on purpose but he would end up telling Gwilym since they were all good friends and right now (Y/n) really didn't want him finding out.

"Darling, I hate to break it to you but he's going to find out sooner or later whenever he sees you or if other people see you and tell him." (Y/n) and Gwilym had a lot of mutual friends, if any of them noticed (Y/n)'s soon to be baby bump they could just as easily tell Gwilym without meaning to cause problems. He was bound to find out from someone soon and Ben knew it was better coming from him or (Y/n).

If by some miracle Gwilym didn't find out soon, he would know in the end when people noticed (Y/n) or Ben walking about pushing a pram.

"Ben, he didn't take the breakup well and he was beyond pissed when he found out about us. What do you think he'll say when he knows we're having a baby- after it didn't happen for me and him? Ben I know what he's gonna say-"

"I doubt he's going to be over the moon but we can't change this or make it easier for Gwil other than telling him ourselves so he doesn't find out second hand."

(Y/n) tipped her head back, suppressing a groan as she couldn't quite get Ben to see this the way she was. It would come across as insensitive and crude that they were having a baby together after only being with one another for two months right after (Y/n) broke up with Gwilym after five years and a few miscarriages. It wouldn't go down well with Gwilym, (Y/n) knew it.

"He told me before that he thought I wasn't moving on with you, I was just getting with you to get what I want... he meant a baby."

(Y/n) was sure Ben had heard some of her conversation with Gwilym on that day a few months back but he wouldn't have known what Gwilym meant. Gwilym knew how badly (Y/n) wanted children and he knew how badly she took the miscarriages. In his eyes, she was with Ben so quickly after him not to move on but to try and have a baby. It hurt (Y/n) so much to have Gwilym think so lowly of her but right now he was calm and trying to move on, telling him about the baby now would only make him rethink everything and revert back to thinking she was cold and heartless and out for her own gain.

"He thought you were just fucking me to get pregnant, that you were using me?" The anger in Ben's voice made (Y/n) wish she'd never said anything, she had come between Gwilym and Ben already and she didn't want to make that worse.

"He said that because he was upset, I don't think he meant it and it's not true I never intended to get pregnant but now I am and if we tell him he's going to think he was right."

"I know you weren't using me, I doubt you would have hung around this long if that was your intention, baby. But he can't say shit like that and think it's okay... I won't tell Joe but we really need to tell Gwilym soon, the longer we wait, the worse it's gonna be."

Ben rubbed at his jaw as he tried to stay calm but the more he thought about it, the worse it made him feel.

Ben couldn't believe Gwilym thought so lowly of someone he loved and had been with for five years and think she would be with Ben just to fuck him to get a baby. If that was true then (Y/n) surely wouldn't have told Ben about the baby, she would have gone when she got what she wanted, she wouldn't stay with him if she didn't truly want to be with him.

A sigh passed through Ben's lips when (Y/n) pushed herself up until she could turn around and lay in between his legs, leaning up against his chest. It didn't matter what Gwilym said or did because this wasn't about him, this was their relationship.

This was their baby.

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben x reader #imagine #dad! ben #BoRhap #gwilym lee #gwilym imagine #gwilym x reader #heartbeat

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villainever · 6 years ago

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Touch Them, Talk to Them: Villaneve & Nuance in Villanelle's Psychopathy (2x07)

okay there is SO much to say about 2x07, but none of you want to read 10k words of analysis, so im going to pick one topic and stick to it (for now). in this post, im going to talk about how this episode is – I believe – a response to: a) villanelle’s season 1 claim that what she wants is, among other things, “someone to watch movies with”, b) eve’s question, “you really don’t feel anything?”, and c) martin’s assertion that to psychopaths, there are only “i / it” relationships. i think aaron is a fantastic opposite/parallel to villanelle, because i believe that a great antagonist doesn’t just provide practical obstacles in the plot-path of the protagonist, but removes obstacles in their character-path. an example of what i meant by this is that in season 1, villanelle killed bill, killed frank, ruined evidence, impeded the investigation, and messed eve around (obstructing her plot-path). but she also drove eve to confront the (sociopathic) personality traits that she’d been repressing, and helped eve find her sense of purpose, confidence and power (smoothing her character-path). in season 2, however, villanelle has been shifted from an ~antagonist~ (ostensibly, as she doesn’t fully conform to this reductive role) to a protagonist, and aaron replaces her as the mysterious Other. just as we had with eve/villanelle, he is both Like and Not-Like villanelle. it’s the likeness that makes him an interesting (and dangerous) opponent for her, but it’s the not-likeness that’s so significant.

in 2x06, villanelle has her iconic “boredom” speech, and monologues about how nothing makes her feel anything. so at the start of 2x07, eve asks her if that’s all true – although it seemed authentic, it’s fair enough of eve to ask, considering how often and easily villanelle lies while playing her characters, and that villanelle prompts her (“you’ll feel better if you talk about it”). villanelle’s reply is that she doesn’t actually KNOW if she’s telling the truth or not. i don’t think she’s deflecting here; she appears subtly, but genuinely, torn. she DOESN’T know.

she wants to give eve a real answer, but she can’t. this is probably the result of a whole lot of mixed information: she’s obviously been told she’s a psychopath (by lawyers and therapists and fellow prisoners and konstantin, then eve), and she knows she enjoys killing people, controlling them, and she is often bored, too, like she said, but none of those things feels like enough. so she offers eve the most she can give: “i feel things when i’m with you.” and while she definitely means this – we could’ve guessed it, considering the lengths she’ll go to to even end up in the same country as eve – she’s still conflicted.

so then, in the last quarter of 2x07, we get this scene between villanelle and aaron:

he describes them as “voids”, and villanelle doesn’t hesitate before agreeing. she’s a psychopath, right? she must be a void. she’s not “nice and normal”. she doesn’t mind stabbing or suffocating or toying with other people. between her and aaron, there’s this heartbeat of dissonant kinship. she’s already joked that they might be “soulmates”, so here, she’s just chatting with him. she’s certain they’re fundamentally the same, and there’s not much to be learned from this, so she’s mostly humouring him. so she asks something out of mild interest, but she thinks she already knows the answer.

“do you ever get lonely?” villanelle does. she finds being cooped up by herself to be tedious, and uses the time to prepare her next interactions – elaborately faking her death for konstantin; planning new presents or tricks or reminders for eve. importantly, in defiance of the “incapable of ‘i / you’ relationships” idea, she is able to apply this notion of isolation to eve. in 2x06, she tells konstantin she’s texting eve “because [eve] might be lonely”. sure, villanelle primarily wants to know how much of an impact she had by killing someone right in front of eve, but she’s not really lying; she can follow and understand the emotional process of “niko left - today’s been a high-stakes day - eve is alone - eve might want somebody to decompress with”. and she feels compelled to offer eve that, to make things better for her. but:

like i said, villanelle has been trying to reach out on the common ground she percieves them as having. she expects to relate to aaron in every way, because he’s a psychopath, too. except aaron goes on about how he knows so much about people, how he observes them. villanelle often does this as well – stalking eve in clothing stores back in season 1, googling her, watching through her windows, etc. but that’s not even near to enough of eve for villanelle, so her reaction is one of confusion. “you don’t want to talk to them? touch them? sleep with them?"

"god, no.” aaron’s inflection is almost one of disgust, and definitely one of superiority. it’s like she’s asked him if he’s interested in hanging out with rocks. he can’t imagine having any involvement behind mild amusement at the opportunity to manipulate people, like toys. “do you?” he asks.

“yeah! i do. all the time.” it’s an immediate knee-jerk response, and though it’s soft, it’s emphatic. villanelle doesn’t doubt her answer. as the shot pans out, she gives a slight gasp, and almost smiles (mirroring that slight smile through her sobs in amsterdam). aaron remains impassive.

i believe that this exchange is maybe the MOST important of the episode, second only to eve/villanelle’s semi-sex scene. i also believe that it’s this conversation with aaron that leads villanelle to breaching that last unspoken barrier between her and eve. to be clear, i’m not trying to say villanelle isn’t a psychopath. one revelation does not fifty people un-kill. just a handful of hours before this moment, she murdered gemma with a plastic bag. so i’m not suggesting villanelle is just like any of us. she’s not, eve’s not, and we don’t want them to be. my point is that this moment clarifies a lot for villanelle. she’s been trying to figure out her own capacity for emotion and connection. one thing that she’s considered a fact about herself since before the pilot is that she “wants someone to watch movies with”. she expresses this desire to eve and konstantin with no hesitation; she’s sure, and this becomes a tacit premise in a lot of her reasoning over the whole show. i suspect villanelle doesn’t have any long-term understanding of what that really means, but she wants it anyway. she also plans most of her life around being able to get closer to eve, whether by teasing her or helping her or steering those in eve’s life to create the required conditions for a confrontation.

which is why aaron telling her he has NO need for human contact is such a big deal. because villanelle obviously DOES. she needs it, she wants it, she always has. anna, eve; villanelle develops romances that run deep – even though she’s no longer obsessed with anna by season 1, she still clearly feels a connection to her, and i don’t think she’d have killed her if anna hadn’t killed herself. then there’s konstantin, and she’s a little shit to him, but she definitely missed him, if the way she ran into his arms in 2x03 after being forced to put up with raymond for ten minutes is any indication. villanelle and konstantin have a rapport, and they trust each other (in that they both know each other well enough to guess when they might betray each other, and can account for it accordingly). essentially, until now, villanelle has been running with the equation “aaron = psychopath; me = psychopath; thus, aaron = me”. she’d assumed that part of psychopathy was just the level of human interest she has – which is why she doesn’t have an issue telling eve “like us, you mean”, even though eve has a long-term relationship and friends: that amount of involvement is still realistic for them, right? but aaron doesn’t have this need for people. so now, “aaron =/= me” for villanelle.

crucially, this interaction gives villanelle CONTEXT. rather than dealing in absolutes, she now has a spectrum of psychopathy: “aaron –> me –> eve –> carolyn –> konstantin –> etc.” aaron has inadvertently told her that what she feels is real. maybe she’d almost believed that, seeing as psychopaths can’t feel anything, can only have the “i / it”, that what she experienced was an infatuation or illusion (although this was shaken by eve stabbing her and by crying in amsterdam); but here’s aaron confirming that the idea of fascination with/caring for people has never even occurred to him. and it does NOTHING BUT occur to villanelle. eve runs circles around her head.

let’s look at that in practice. aaron’s most significant relationship is with his sister, who he treats like crap. he’s got her babysat, won’t listen to her opinions (“the grownups are talking, amber”), disrespects a friend she likes, calls her a “thickie”. then villanelle, the closest thing he has to a friend – he watches her without her consent, plays dress-up and stay-still like she’s a doll, tells her what she’s going to do (“spit it out”) and instructs her on how she should feel (“you’ll be bored”). but villanelle? her most important relationship is with eve. and sure, she makes really fucked up choices, but she also makes an effort to consider how eve might feel, what eve might want, what might appeal to her. AND, she’s IMPROVED at that. for example, in 1x03, she kills bill to get eve’s attention, but it’s at the price of hurting her. by 2x07, though, villanelle won’t kill niko. it’s mostly selfish – she doesn’t want eve to be mad at her – but if it were aaron, he’d try and force eve to be un-mad somehow, with money or threats, etc. (not that aaron would bother; he wouldn’t mind if she hated him) villanelle, though, she wants eve to ACTUALLY love her, not to HAVE to love her. villanelle is manipulative, obviously (e.g. telling niko that eve stabbed her to cause a rift between them), but she sees these indirect manipulations as a way to arrange things how she wants (it doesn’t really occur that there might be an alternative), and attempts to course-correct when eve sometimes gets upset. this is huge for villanelle. aaron gives her something NOBODY else can, by being like her, but less like her than she’d believed. the distinction between them might seem minute to viewers who have the full range of emotions/empathy, but for villanelle, that small difference means the world. it means her and eve are REAL, or real enough. martin said, “don’t add, take away”. but aaron proves that that can be true by degrees; villanelle is dotted with minuses, but fewer minuses than aaron. this is set up throughout the episode, kicked off thematically by eve’s question, but compounded by aaron’s consistent use of villanelle like a thing. THIS is an “i / it” dynamic. “stay there, exactly like that”. “wear this”. “these are your clothes now”. “we’re leaving”. “you’ll get ice-cream, and i’ll watch you eat it”. to him, villanelle is a totally disposable puppet. but over and over and over we’ve been shown that this ISN’T how villanelle perceives eve, and that’s definitely cemented in amsterdam, when villanelle breaks down over eve “forgetting” her.

aaron, like villanelle, has up until this point mistaken them for exactly alike, but they’ve been miscommunicating all along. at lunch, villanelle said, “i dont like rich men” – meaning, i like women, specifically eve, and i have my own resources. aaron counters, “but you like money”. he’s misinterpreted, and thinks villanelle means, like him, that she never wants to have sex or talk with other humans. instead, he concludes that she likes the material object of money, and the subsequent ability to aquire items which might spark some kind of response – and this lines up with villanelle’s later remark about liking to buy and own things, which aaron recognises in himself. they’re replying to each other, but really, they’re having slightly different conversations. so what does this mean, overall? we’ve known forever that villanelle wants eve to be the person she “watches movies with”, but this conversation tells villanelle she could maybe be that person to eve, too. villanelle can “love” in her own unique way, can be present. and because eve’s stepping off the ledge and meeting her in the middle, neither of them will have to be anything other than who they actually are. and they can be who they actually are, together. this analysis got a lot more muddled than i wanted it to, because im a lil wine drunk after haning out with some friends, but i had Thoughts. i have many more Thoughts about the villaneve hookup, hugo, gemma’s death, why aaron is such a creepy villain, carolyn’s plans, etc. but i’ll leave it here for now. i hope this made some sense lmfao.

#killing eve #killing eve spoilers #ke analysis #villainever writes #ke #ke spoilers #villaneve #aaron peel #villanelle #villanelle x eve #eve x villanelle #killing eve 2x07 #ke 2x07 #killing eve season 2 #killing eve s2 #konstantin #villainever #killing eve analysis #villanevest writes

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inkribbon796 · 4 years ago

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The Lost Ones Ch. 1

Chapter 1: Illegal Clones and Legal Crimes

Summary: Anti liked joking around, he likes pulling pranks and bothering Dark now that he’s permanently moved into Egoton. But one day he decides to take the joke too far, and it gets about five times more unfunny. But when it’s all said and done, Dark had to admit . . . he is charming.

A/N: someone requested this little joke about Dark being short and so I threw it in here.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

~::~ Twenty Years Ago ~::~

It began as things tended to begin with Anti: jokes.

“Hey, Dark,” Anti had burst into Dark’s main office to bother him, again.

“Leave,” Dark told him, not looking up.

“What’dya get when yah combine you an’ Wilford?” Anti sounded like he was trying to keep himself from cackling madly.

“I don’t care,” Dark told him.

“A hot mess,” Anti joked. Usually when Dark didn’t respond he used about anything to try and get his attention.

“If you need a body disposed of, I’m not helping,” Dark warned.

“Yer just no fun,” Anti sulked.

“I’m busy,” Dark reminded. “It’s bad enough I have to put up with Wilford’s antics, I refuse to humor you as well.”

Anti then attempted to stab Dark and the ensuing fight got rid of some of Anti’s pent up energy. It also got the glitch thinking: what would Dark or Wil’s kid be like?

He imagined Dark’s kid would probably be a lot like Dark was, about ZERO fun, and in about six years when he saw Kay and Illinois for the first time he would learn he was right.

But Wil’s kid: that had to be an interesting kid. Wil was mad fun, a complete and utter lunatic, there was no way he couldn’t pass that down to a kid. And fortunately for Anti, Wil was a prolific nymphomaniac. He had to have some kid, somewhere. There was no way the Wilford that Anti knew hadn’t had sloshed, unprotected sex at least once in his life. Everyone in the crime world knew that while Dark and Wil were Ego’s big couple, Wil slept around.

After a month, Anti gave up looking for the brat, either Dark had tried to clean up Wil’s extra-relationship affairs before they could bear fruit, or the kid had been hidden from Dark.

Another couple of weeks passed and his brain came up with a stupid idea: why not clone the assholes? Cut out the middleman. It was probably their only way someone was even going to get an ankle biter out of Dark in the first place.

But, as it turned out, cloning someone was way harder than Anti thought it would be. He needed people to do the cloning, a safe place for them to work. And after Google joined Dark, Anti had to avoid his prying eye because that walking laptop told Dark everything.

The eggheads he’d threatened found had been excited about the process, but hesitantly optimistic about their chances. But either way they’d need a test and Anti shrugged his shoulders and knew he couldn’t get any of the conventional ways to make a kid from Dark at least without getting his head blown off for even suggesting it.

They needed a test and Wil was the easy option.

“So wait?” Wil was already wasted, the slur in his speech even more pronounced after enough margaritas and martinis to kill a normal man, the two were sitting in a private room at some bar, Anti figured the mad man probably wouldn’t remember this come morning. “You need m’ what?”

“Yer aura,” Anti was admittedly a bit buzzed himself, electricity literally arching off of him in some spots. “I mean the docs will prolly use whate’er but I just wanna see what yer aura does if we pick it apart.”

Will just shrugged, and either he didn’t care or was too drunk to care, but he set his arm on the table and whipped out the stiletto knife he usually hid in the garter on his right thigh and ran it down his arm until he randomly stopped. Wil picked something up and a whirling mass of pink and yellow came off.

The mad man held it out. “Here yah go.”

Anti hesitantly grabbed it, it felt like the consistency of cotton candy, but had almost a soapy, saccharine, bubble gum. And to Anti something about it felt twisted and fake.

But by this point Anti knew Wilford was incapable of keeping secrets when he was this sloshed. Wil had already slipped some pretty spicy secrets about what he and Dark did in the bedroom that had Anti demanding that he wanted literal brain bleach to get out of his mind.

So Anti took it and let Wil try his hand at drunken flirting, leaving to go back to his lab coats to see what they could do with it.

And to everyone’s surprise, the aura was reacting to stuff, almost like it was a living organism or a parasite that lived within Wil’s soul and it was very choosy about what it let them stick onto it. Despite the fact that it just sat there and did nothing.

It looked a bit like a slug after it had stopped moving, a pink and yellow swirling slug.

At this point Anti had honestly forgotten about cloning Dark, the glitch demon wanted to see their auras fighting. He wanted to watch Wil and Dark’s auras tear each other apart.

So it was time to get Dark’s aura, but Anti couldn’t just ask the Entity for it, no! He knew that there was no force on earth or Hell that would get Dark to willingly give Anti his aura for his death matches. So he’d have to take a chunk off by force.

It took a week of stalking Dark before he finally got his chance, and Anti was just about ready to fight Dark himself but as luck and fate would have it, Dark decided to got out hunting.

The Entity was stalking a couple gangsters when Anti decided to make his move. They were a local group Anti liked to pick on from time to time, so they were a tiny bit smarter than some of the other groups that had tried and died taking Dark on as if he was Deceit.

When Dark folded himself out of one of the alley shadows, one of the gangsters froze, watching Dark snap his own neck like the drama queen he was.

“Huh,” the braver of the three gangsters realized. “Yer shorter than me.”

Anti almost blew his cover trying to stifle his own laughter. Dark looked insulted and infuriated. “Excuse you‽”

“Sorry,” the guy was over six feet tall, but not more than half a foot taller than Dark or Anti. “I just figured “the Demon of Egoton” would be more demon-like, an’ bigger.”

Dark seemed to get angrier, and Anti was trying to stop himself from laughing so much that he almost missed his chance.

The Entity’s aura shot out and grabbed onto the gangster, one of his friends tried to shoot Dark but it was stopped by another part of Dark’s aura. It began to ruthlessly tear into the gangster and his friends. “I’m not too short to kill you!”

Anti lunged for Dark, managing to get his claws into Dark’s aura. The demon screamed out, in screeching pain. “I’ll be takin’ some ‘a that.”

“ANTI! I will tear you apart so thoroughly that no force in Hell can piece you back together again!” Dark was furious, the gangster that were lucky enough not to get struck by Dark’s rampaging aura were forgotten.

Anti raced off, running into the Void and trying to keep the writhing mass that was Dark’s aura away from the other demon. It was consciously trying to get back to Dark, or to kill Anti, the glitch demon wasn’t sure which and he didn’t particularly care at the moment. He was just trying to get away from Dark to keep him from taking his aura back.

Eventually Anti did get away, it was more luck that anything else. But when the coast was clear Anti returned to the scientists, covered in his own blackish, glitching, ichor blood and holding out the angry, hissing fragment of Dark’s aura.

“Is that thing hissing?” The lead scientist asked, her curly light brown hair barely tied out of the way. Anti had completely forgotten all their names at this point. He was pretty sure it was Beautiful or Bunny or some weird French name he couldn’t pronounce.

“Yeah,” Anti smiled, “let’s throw this bastard in with Wil’s and see if they kill each other.”

“Is that still alive after you disconnected that from him?” She was staring at it like it was a scientific marvel.

“Well yeah,” Anti gestured as he spoke, “Wilf’s just got a weird aura. Most ‘a our auras are like this caustic fooker’s.”

Quickly the scientist grabbed a container, the same type they put Wil’s in and Anti poked at Dark’s aura with his own, trying to get it especially angry.

“Okay, Bunny let’s get this show on the road,” Anti dusted off his hands.

“It’s Beauregard,” she corrected sharply, fixing her glasses as she held onto the container with one hand.

“Ahh, whatever,” Anti dismissed, smiling. “I wanna see that prick’s aura get shredded.”

Beauregard stopped as they entered another room, Anti moving through the wall. “Hold up, if we put them together are they going to just rip each other apart?”

Anti shrugged, “I mean, Dark’s an angry fooker an’ Wil’s aura is infectious, they gotta do somethin’ cool to each other.”

Beauregard and Anti’s conversation came to a halt when they heard some yelling in the next room. She ran ahead, yelling, “What is going on in here?”

“I don’t know,” one of the technicians looked panicked. He and another technician were trying to keep Wil’s aura in the container it was in, the aura was bubbling and foaming, making a weird noise, Dark’s one aura was letting out that high pitched echo that Dark was infamous for. It cause more than one person to look around wildly for the demon to suddenly appear. It almost seemed like the fragment of Dark’s aura was shaking. The entire container Dark’s aura was in almost fell out of Beauregard’s arms. The result was the two auras seeming to square up against each other as if they were going to fight.

Anti was almost cackling, rubbing his hands together, “Come on Bubbles, fook ‘im up. I got a fiver on yeh.”

Wilford’s aura lunged again and suddenly it was inside the same container as Dark’s. The ringing became more intense.

Beauregard jumped, letting out this surprised scream. Then the ringing stopped when Wilford’s aura just parked itself next to Dark’s and they both calmed down. No one in the room moved, not wanting to set off either of their test subjects. Beauregard watched in awe as Dark’s aura changed from an inky grey to a mix of blue and red, the colors changing between the two but never mixing. It was more blue than red at the moment.

“Oh yeh sappy bastards,” Anti cursed, stomping over. “Come on, I wanted a cage match!”

“I thought we were cloning demons?” Beauregard asked him, most of her attention was on the little aura samples.

“Ehh, I’m already bored, tell me when they actually start doin’ somethin’ interesti’,” Anti dismissed, and then he left.

But when he was fully gone he stuck his head back in, “An’ by that I mean they set themselves on fire or start shootin’ acid.”

“Right, right, of course,” Beauregard agreed, holding up the container and smiling. Even if they failed, she was going to learn some amazing things about auras.

While Beauregard was planning, Anti had already gone back to Brighton to start terrorizing people again.

He was almost immediately found by Dark who demanded the shredded off piece of his aura back, he could grow it back on his own, of course, but didn’t like the idea of Anti having it.

So when Anti couldn’t produce the missing piece of Dark’s aura, the fight resulted in Anti being turned into pixels and Dark walking off with a broken arm and five broken ribs — not that Dark told anyone about the broken bones.

It took him a week to reform. By then he’d actually forgotten he’d gotten a team to do the actual cloning.

After months and months and months, they called him to say they’d “finally gotten a live one” and Anti couldn’t pass up the opportunity to watch Egoton burn.

After all, what could be more destructive than Wilford’s madness with Dark’s power?

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #Egoton Origins #Markiplier #jacksepticeye #Darkstache #Darkiplier #Antisepticeye #Wilford Warfstache #Bim Trimmer #Prof. Beauregard #Anti takes a joke too far #illegal cloning

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prorevenge · 6 years ago

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Destroy my childhood, ruin my chance at college, and laugh when I said I was homeless? Lol cool, I'll ruin your f*cking life.

warning: this is a VERY long story with few updates and TL:DR at the end.

BACKSTORY: My mother was a really shitty person. I have 4 other siblings. One older sister, 3 way younger, 3 different dads. Before I was born (im a male btw), my oldest sister was taken away from my mother when she was a few months old because she tried to stab/slice the father of my sister WHILE HE WAS HOLDING HER. She lost custody and the dude left her. Older sister goes to live with her fathers family in a different city. CUE LIL OL ME COMING INTO THIS SEXY WORLD. My dad went to jail 2-3 years after I was born for a while, I rarely saw him. He's an alcoholic if that matters. She was a single mother but she made it work and she worked hard. One of the bigger problems was that she took out all her aggression and hatred of my father on me as well as work stress and etc. She dealt with sexual abuse growing up which I'm sure definitely affected her relationships and how she treated me as well. Anyways...

Cue me being abused from the age of 4-5 to about 17. Every day was hell. She was extremely strict and her perspective was warped. She was also pretty big in stature and had alot of strength. Examples of her being shitty: I've gotten beaten up badly once because HER room was dirty. The dishes weren't washed and I got beaten soon as I got home, even if there weren't dishes when I left to school. If i walked too loud, id get my ass beat. She broke my nose for looking at her the wrong way on my 10th birthday when she brought me a cake I was allergic too(It had peanuts, she knows im slightly allergic but feigned ignorance..) It was more or less every day or every other day. She used her fists/elbows/extension cords/hangers/chairs/canes/bats/etc. Whatever she could find I was getting beaten with. I couldn't ever escape to my room for long because she would always call me every few minutes to get her things or to yell at me. She never drank or did drugs or anything. Whenever she was upset and I happened to be in front of her she'd kick me down the stairs to make me hurry up. She's put a knife to my neck before and had to be forcibly stopped by her bf of the time. Burned my Christmas presents from other people (she didnt get me anything that year) and just other really shitty things. The only thing I will say, she tried really hard to make up for it with video games and electronics and etc. It didn't make a difference to me though, it never helped.

She controlled most aspects of my life. I got by with little petty revenges. Peeing in the Lipton iced tea she drank. Rubbing her forks and spoons between ny buttcheeks before i served her dinner. Ignoring her screams for help when she had kidney stones (how tf am i supposed to help anyways??) But by the time i got to highschool I turned to alcohol. I resented her and the negative atmosphere affected who I was as a person. I started to be cold and uncaring. Calculated. She started kicking me out every few months telling me to find somewhere else to live by age 15. She sent me away to a different country for a year and tried to keep my passport but I made it back to the US with the help of the embassy and my step father (she'd already left by that time and found some other dude). I came back senior year with no credits for the prior grade which ended with me getting a GED. I spent most of the time i could with my best friend and started working shitty jobs. I was terrible at saving as i had accumulated loads of shitty habits while growing up so it didnt make much difference. She eventually told me that If i went to college, I would ALWAYS have a place to live until I finished. Cue my first 2 semesters at a 2 year college, I maintained a 3.7ish gpa. My teachers loved me and it was my escape. Towards the end of my 2nd semester during finals, i came home late one night around 10pm and my mother yanks the door open screaming in my face asking when I'll move out. I'm slightly drunk and decide to completely ignore her and walk to my room. If I opened my mouth, that day would be the day I blew up and cursed her out. I've rarely ever raised my voice at her because it never ended well. Now at this point im 19 and I've been doing school full time with no savings. Im also fairly fit and could easily take my mom at this point (Never laid a hand on her or any woman, i hate violence). I get to my room, she rips my door open, and starts yelling. I say nothing and stare at her. She walks away and called the police on me saying she thought id murder her and my younger siblings. I don't know where the fuck she got that idea from as she's the one who's nearly killed me many times.

I packed everything into a duffle bag and left 5 minutes afterwards. I failed all of my finals because I couldn't make it to my school. Things kinda spiraled and the next 2-3 years were me on and off homeless. I survived the best I could in a big city with no college degree and made a lot of shitty choices due to my shitty habits. Eventually i found a profitable hobby that gave me meaning and through that i started to work my way up. Got my own apartment, had a full time job, and did my hobby on the side. I hadn't kept up contact with my mother at all but my younger sister who was old enough to have a phone found me on social media so i saw photos and such, she didn't have it anywhere near as bad but she did get beaten occasionally. My mother reached out via email all smiles asking how I've been. Now guys, ive always been envious of the relationship most ppl have with their moms so I gave her a chance and gave her a call. We talked for a few minutes and everything was civil and seemed like things would go okay but then...

She asked me what I've been up to the last few years and I told her honestly, that I was homeless for a while and struggled a lot after what she did to me but I worked my way out of it. SHE LITERALLY LAUGHS. She laughed for a few seconds in a very condescending kinda chuckle and then said "I never did a thing to you so you don't know what abuse is! its your own damn fault you were homeless. So how about yo-" but by that point I hung up. I was speechless and fuming. I don't know what abuse is? OKAY BITCH. IVE SPENT TOO FUCKING LONG LETTING YOU DESTROY MY SANITY. NOW IS THE TIME.

There was a few things my mother didn't know. One, I knew for a fact that current well paying job she had was gotten on lies as she never got her college degree and lied about it on her resume. Two, I had access to all of her email accounts and cloud storage accounts since I was the one that set them up when I was younger and she never changes her passwords. Lastly, she DEFINITELY wasn't aware that from 13yrs old and onto the last time she hit me I took photos of ALL my bruises/marks/wounds/bloody noses saving them to my computer and then google drive. ON TOP OF THAT, my little sister had been sending me photos via social media of the bruises she got from my mom.

The first thing I did was compile ALL of those photos/videos into one folder. I then reached out to CPS in my city and explained that my siblings were being abused, how I was abused in the past, and that I had mountains of proof. Since ive called the cops on my mother before AND the thing that happened with my older sister, there was immediately a home visit. They arrived almost a day later with the police and coincidentally my mother was literally in the process of beating my younger sister when they were knocking. Cue an Emergency removal of all my siblings from the house and my mother getting arrested though she was released hours later. (I was getting a day to day play by play because my mothers best friend is a blabber mouth and everything my mother said she told her son who relayed it to me without either of their knowledge.) I sent CPS all the evidence and there's a legit case against my mother now. The next day I emailed and then called up her job to inform them that she had lied about having a very necessary college degree as well current events in her life which sparked a background check. She was fired days later. Say adios to 75k and a blacklist in the only industry you know how to work. I then spitefully deleted every cloud account and email address I ever made for her, which was all of them which im sure will make keeping up with alot bills and etc nearly impossible. I then anonymously reported her to the IRS because of the tax fraud she committed for years by claiming people's children that weren't hers with ALOT of detailed information since I lived with her while she did it.

So now, my mother lost all her kids and her job. Im meeting with a caseworker from CPS next week to talk more about what happens moving forward but I do know they're NOT going back. Idk how she's gonna pay her mortgage now and survive. I'm sure she's gonna get a call from the IRS who'll be looking for a few thousand dollars she owes them. She also has to go back to court in a few months, not exactly sure what she was charged with but ill update when I find out how everything turns out.

Side Note: She isn't aware im the cause of any of this. I plan on keeping tabs on her and waiting until it seems like she's close to death before I tell her it was all me and I peed in her Lipton.

Updates:

1) I am psychologically not in the position to take care of my younger siblings or take on a parental role. I came very close to suicide 2 years ago and im just trying to work on my alcohol problem and other habits that keep me in a cycle of instability. No I haven't been to any programs or therapy, I don't think it will help me in regards to my nearly constant apathy and etc.

2) My 2 youngest siblings weren't really bothered much. It was mostly my little sister after I left who got beatings but luckily it wasn't anything near the level I had to deal with.

3) Im also incapable of taking custody because I don't have an apartment anymore due to bad decisions I made while drinking recently. So I'm back to homeless but I crash with a friend once in a awhile. I am very well aware I am an influence on my younger siblings and I'm trying to stay consistent with doing everything I can to be a better and more stable person for them so that maybe I can finally build a real relationship with someone in my family. I'm sorry to disappoint everyone who keeps wishing me more success.

4) Aside from my little siblings, I have zero contact with anyone else in my family. And even then, its been very rare because I had to avoid my mother to see them and didn't want her knowing i kept in contact (Meeting my little sister after school, facetime, etc). The rest of my family were well aware of what she did and distanced themselves. I don't plan on reaching out to them as im not good at maintaining relationships with mostly anyone anyways.

TL;DR - My mother abuses me badly for most of my life as well as my younger siblings. I have to drop out of college and support myself after she drove me to homelessness. She proceeds to laugh at me about me being homeless and denys abuse. So I ruined her life by getting my younger siblings removed and her arrested, making her lose her job, reported her to the IRS, and essentially set her up so that the remainder of her life is full of disaster and hardships.

(source) (story by howbout_that_lipton)

#pro revenge #by howbout_that_lipton #prorevenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #revenge story

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domesticangel · 6 years ago

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ok ive been wanting to do an OC redraw/redesign for a while now and uh, well here it is !!! top is obv the revamp and bottom is these three’s original designs ,,, the bottom pic is 9 years old (holy smokes) so i made them during my middle school emo/scene phase when i was like 12 so thats why they're.........Like That lmao but left to right in both pics is jude, elliot, and skipper!!! this was? so fun honestly

ummm lots of info/backstory about them under the cut lol

so in the original pic/designs… if I remember correctly jude and skipper were in police academy training to be cops and elliot was some punk ass kid theyd end up seeing around a lot cause he was in and out of holding for Delinquent Things, and ofc they magically became friends. Im pretty sure they were all 16/17 when I first made them which makes no sense at all (teen cops??? Ok) but like when ur 12, teenagers are Practically Adults BUT none of that is Canon TM anymore. In their redesign they range from early to late 20’s; I usually peg jude around 26-27, elliot is probably 23-24, and skipper is 21.

jude was the very first oc I ever made so shes always had a special place in my heart… I started churning out rapid fire ocs when I was in middle school that id toss when I was bored with em but shes the one that always stuck around!! Shes been a big honkin lesbian ever since her conception, so id use her a lot to express BabyGay feelings I didn’t really know how else to process. design wise I kinda just simplified her look; I have no fucking clue why she used to have an eyepatch and cat ears (I mean, I do, its because I was a weeb) but I got rid of those along with the scene hair and gave her longer hair with more natural waves and some freckles from spending a lot of time in the sun. her gray eyes and hair were always kind of her signature, so those got to stay! She mostly just wears anything that’s easy enough to move around and get work done in; tank tops, loose long skirts, etc. think futch hippy. anyways jude is now just a simple plant witch who uses her skills and connection with the elements to run a modest local farm, and even though shes fairly content in her lifestyle, she wants nothing more than a gf/wife that she can work hard to give a good life to :3c shes a hopeless romantic and has a bad habit of falling a little bit in love with every woman she meets, but shes mad shy when it comes to flirting, so more often than not shes just a sweaty ball of pining and infatuation. Whenever shes feeling some type of way about a girl she either obsessively takes on projects around the farm or house to distract herself or rants to her plants about how shes too afraid to express her feelings. RIP useless lesbian jude. Anyway shes the oldest of the trio, so shes very protective of elliot and skipper in a mother hen kind of way. She gets embarrassed when she realizes shes lecturing them like a cranky old maid, but they secretly don’t really mind it and often come to her for general life advice. I think her sign would be Taurus :3c (and probably an air moon since she’s kind of a space cadet)

elliot was REALLY FUN to redesign bc I honestly just wanted him to look like one of those people who had a HUGE scene phase way back when and just… never completely grew out of it lmao so I gave him the two-tone mullet he deserves, grown out roots hes definitely not gonna bother to re-bleach and re-dye, and piercing scars under his lip from where he used to have some tacky ass snakebites that he probably had to take out to get a job or something lol. he couldn’t completely give up piercings though, so the labret and gauges got to stay. Dudes not COMPLETELY stuck in 2007, but he does still enjoy a lot of the OG emo/punk bands and the fantasy of making it big in his own band and touring the country in a fashionably clunky van. He doesn’t exactly have a band, but hes working on that. Hes halfway decent on vocals and a guitar so he spends a lot of time combing through the local college town he lives and works in in hopes of finding some people who’d wanna play some gigs with him. But in the mean time, he works as a barista in a local café, which usually hooks him up by letting him do some acoustic sets at night every now and again. Hes a very warm and upbeat person, and will happily engage and talk the ear off of anyone close enough for him to do so, stranger or otherwise. He also regularly reminds jude and skipper how much he loves both of them and how glad he is that theyre all friends; He doesn’t really have much in the way of embarrassment or apprehension when it comes to what hes feeling. Hes the official unofficial “plan-maker” of the friend group and is able to bring them all together for quality time, because hes not at all passive like jude or skipper, and… usually has the most free time out of all of them lol. elliot is pure Leo and that’s about all there is to that

And finally, congratulations to skipper, who against all odds, looked normal enough that I didn’t really have to change anything at all about his design! Just had to ditch the uniform for your typical Tired Gay mustard sweaters. Skipper is an English major in his sophomore year of college who, like most people in their 20’s in liberal arts programs, is desperately trying to figure out what he wants out of life and also doesn’t know what sleeping or self-care is. He really enjoys writing, but doesn’t really know if he wants to do it for a living or if he even could. He grew up with pretty cold and distant parents, so on top of knowing they don’t really approve of his major, he pretty much always operates under the assumption that if hes not working himself to death hes not justifying the space hes taking up or the air hes breathing. Emotionally speaking hes more emo than elliot will ever be and his blood is probably 75% caffeine. He having kind of a rough time tbh but hes gritting it out in hopes that things become more clear eventually. He’d be way worse off if he didn’t have jude or elliot, who hes more thankful for than he can ever bring himself to express. They were essentially his first real, close friends, and despite skipper being incapable of asking for help, they always seem to know when he needs someone to talk to or even just a brief distraction; Jude has an open door policy for her farm and will let him come over and cuddle some rabbits or sit and talk over tea on her porch whenever he needs to, and elliot cant remember the last time hes made skipper pay for anything he ordered from the café, or the last time he even had to ask skipper what he wanted. Because hes the youngest of the three its sometimes their instinct to protect him, which embarrasses skipper out of his mind, but he knows they mean well. Hes the physical embodiment of Just Doing His Best and is a stone cold Capricorn

They’re still besties but basically met just from living in the same town; jude and elliot met when jude started providing the café’s local roast from the coffee beans she grew on her farm so elliot saw her fairly regularly and of course was like Oh Friend? Jude always liked how forthcoming elliot was as it complimented her generally reserved nature, and elliot always thought living on a farm and growing your own food was pretty punk rock and therefore pretty dang cool in his book. They both got to know skipper because he came to the café every. single. day. to ingest ungodly amounts of espresso and study all day, and when elliot took an interest in skipper, jude suggested he invite him to one of his gigs since the poor guy kinda looked like he needed a break. Skipper initially kind of politely shot elliot down, but jude took a chance and found skipper later to tell him how much itd mean to elliot, and that if it made him feel better she’d go with him, since going to events like this was different for her too. skipper apprehensively agreed at that point, and the rest is history !!! they all kinda hit it off after that

tl;dr

#art #oc #original character #i even named the redraw frensiswhenyouhaveabud.jpeg #i think about this sentence almost daily #jude #elliot #skipper #redraw

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facialintelligence · 6 years ago

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astoundingly long train of though not brought on by any recent activity (don’t worry) and solely because i had to disinfect my cardboard cut from work and actually did

so warner pretty much never intervenes with my more troublesome behaviors, we all know this. he lets me do what i need to do and then take responsibility for the consequences. sometimes he offers support afterwards in the form of non-judgement, thought suppression*, helping me get up, and telling me to keep walking. he actually doesn’t do a lot, he just offers quiet company without pitying or insulting me. maybe that is a lot. i digress

this is only notable because he almost never even really steps in afterwards, except for the like one ultimatum he gave me relatively recently, which was “You will disinfect open wounds.”, referencing primarily self-inflicted injuries.

i never used to apply rubbing alcohol to anything because it just hurts so much. literally never. last time was when my dad applied it when i was 12 and i vowed never to let that shit touch a wa again. but after i cut my arm pretty bad that one time and didn’t disinfect it, warner was like “Don’t you ever fucking let an open wound get gross.” and i have so far properly cleaned every goddamn laceration i’ve gotten since. it’s weird. i still really really don’t want to but every time i’m like “well i’d rather die i hate this shit”, i get the “Nope. You have to clean it.” in my head, so i do.

i think the CPU understands (or supports) that none of us (least of all me) like our habits or character interfered with, which is why warner never steps in no matter how much i choose to escalate things, so i think it’s interesting that there is some vestige of control left out of my reach for instances it considers worth intervening in. maybe it’s because i freaked out so bad at the time, but in retrospect i ended up not minding at all (i thought it was pretty cool) and yet the demand hasn’t lifted.

*thought suppression is usually just him being present and thinking of nothing, so my anarchistic mental shrapnel is quietly boxed out. sometimes he semi-fronts to get me to chill out a little by just being the calmer personality. neither of us can actually manipulate thought, it’s more of a coping function.

with the exception of this recent ultimatum. i actually think there have been less stark prior instances but i can’t recall them. even then i think it was things i more or less begrudgingly agreed on, like ‘stop stalking people who don’t want you to’ and wacky shit like that, so it’s not as comparable. it’s just a little weird to me. i definitely wouldn’t still be doing it if it weren’t for his influence. i don’t care that much

ended up wondering why this was the only notable stand warner ended up taking. maybe it’s just the one hole in my extreme carefulness and the CPU just had to fill it somehow. that’s most likely. i almost always think three steps in advance even when i’m lashing out at myself (level of severity, consequence, ability to be hidden, etc), but i happen to fuckering hate the stinging from rubbing alcohol which i figure i would otherwise sensibly use, according to patterns in previous personal damage control.

i think it’s still worth noting. there are three traits his character has that worry me in terms of safety in the scenario where he is the host. a) poorly regulated depression and consequential lack of passion for anything, b) nicotine addiction (very minorly, just a lame inconvenience), and c) a ‘history’ of cutting. yeah that’s right he ended up keeping that even after we all disavowed backstories so i still have to worry about it even though he’s never done anything irl. thanks

but that coinciding with his only real interjection is what makes me linger. he and i have different methods and mindsets surrounding it, so we actually don’t relate to each other much on it, despite the shared ground. it’s his primary self harm, it’s one of a variety for me, he did so with suicidal intentions, i do it to alleviate emotional episodes, his is very standard in appearance but i keep covertness in mind and have serious aversions to traditional cutting, etc.

we also disagree on the severity of mine. i’m aware of how fully in control i am (im also a huge coward, etc, etc, a whole heap of exposition i don’t want to get into but i can actually defend myself quite well) and 100% cannot empathize with the fact that HE actually finds it a minor but marked concern.

i’m not convinced he processes my clarity of thought and thousand and one safeguards (i can tell it just doesn’t reach him regardless of what i say), so i figure it’s just because, as a person, he personally had worse issues with it and that’s all he can see. again. weird... because he is not a real person and this is maybe not a useful take... but it’s the best reason i can come up with for the idiosyncratic response.

and i know. concern over self harm isn’t that out there, especially from someone who functions as a survival mechanism. but here’s the thing: i’m concerned about it. i’m extremely cautious and conscientious. i know my limits and i hate pain and consequences too much to ever reach them. that’s who i am as a person. the cpu assigns alters that deal with things i’m not concerned enough about. things i can’t handle properly, or can’t control, etc.

i know when i’m not in control enough and i can feel the cpu find plugs for those holes without me, for better or worse. warner takes certain things more seriously for me because i don’t. thesely and dianthys and II embody the idea of ‘letting go’ to varying degrees because i’m fucking incapable of it. but i am always in control when i hurt myself because i am very afraid of death, and also owies, so his concern over that seems outside of cpu regulation. i don’t feel the cpu worrying about it, even when i feel it worry about other things that i don’t find concerning.

so to me it seems like it might be 45% cpu sensibility (the standard ‘going above and beyond in terms of survival - not only will you clean and dress it, you will ALSO disinfect it’ m.o.) and 55% personal to warner.

i... had some other train of thought that i have since forgotten, but i guess the conclusion of this one was ‘weird that the one thing i THINK is actually due to warner’s personhood more than the CPU’s need for survival is the one thing he put his foot down enough to continually affect me, there are so many ways to interpret the situation that there’s a 70% chance i wildly misinterpreted all of it and am so wrong it hurts’.

i just wanted to fukcjkng... get this on paper so i could figure out what i was even trying to figure out. absolutely not worth it

#50000 words brought to you by me going 'but why' through 60 layers of hell #sorry if this is all a bit much... on a certain topic...#i don't like talking about self harm because it's embarrassing and #idk i think it sets up for more concern than it's worth #but i couldnt really take note of all the above without going into some detail sorry

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kat-sucky · 7 years ago

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Hello lovely~ Im cravin some angst so may i get a scenario w/ bakugous (ofc) S/O goes blind due to a villain ambush and they think its all there fault on why they went blind? They/them pronouns btw ~

Sure thing! Gooooosh I did a whole seven pages on this. The weather outside helped make this. I hope you like it! I made it to where the reader is a freshman B-Class student and Bakugou is in his second year serving as a mentor. I hope that’s alright.

The wind whipped your hair mercilessly as you awaited the go-ahead from your superiors. You were crouched down on the rooftop of a building adjacent from the headquarters of a medium-time drug lord, nicknamed Whoonga-Lord. Originally from South Africa to treat HIV and highly addictive as well as deadly, the drug whoonga had been introduced to Japan’s streets only a month ago. The drug was causing deaths en masse, and the Department of Illegal Substances had called in the heroes to take down Whoonga-Lord and his lackeys. The file handed to you to read was moderately long and detailed, mostly blueprints of the building and profiles on known accomplices of the drug lord residing in the structure not far from where you lingered. The mission had been graded amber, which meant moderately dangerous. You would have to exercise caution when confronting the lawbreakers.

Beside you was the explosive bomb boy Bakugou, also donned in his hero costume, a devious grin stretched across his masked visage. His teeth glinted in the dim lighting, and you vaguely wished you could have his confidence in this instance. It was your first real mission out, but Bakugou was already experienced with these drills.

You enviously eyed his obvious strength, wishing that you too were in 2-A, but you were only a year under him. As such, you had a habit of hanging around him in school during mixed lunches. At first you had started more of an annoyance, being an underclassman and all, but gradually he warmed up to your presence. He even allowed you to sit next to him for the thirty minutes lunch lasted, and that meant something to you, especially because you had a minor crush on the upperclassman. Yeah, minor.

So it was no wonder you were excited and terrified that he chose you to accompany him and a few pros on this mission.

“You nervous?” He asked in a taunting tone, giving you a look. The kind of look that said ‘wow, you’re a wuss.’

You frowned at him, shaking your head. “No. I’m just thinking.”

“Right. I bet you’re quaking in those shoes of yours.” He gibed, elbowing you in the side. “After all, you are pretty new to this. I wouldn’t be surprised if you fucked up and I had to save you.”

You could practically smell the smirk resting on his face, but you refused to acknowledge his comment by looking at him. Instead, your bright (color) eyes came to rest again on the faded brick of the drug headquarters.

Your quirk was the only reason you weren’t freaking out right now. Sure, you were adept at fighting and rather agile and flexible, but your true strength came with your wits and quirk. Your quirk wasn’t combative, but still completely useful and unique, though it lacked flashiness often portrayed by popular pros such as Endeavor or Mt. Lady.

Your quirk was Medusa’s Glare. No, you didn’t have snake hair, but you did have bright reptilian eyes in the almost neon shade of (color). Your pupils were catlike and slit, and your eyes had a membrane over them that could reflect light similar to a crocodile’s, and you could see exceptionally well in blackness. That wasn’t your quirk’s function though, just something you liked to brag about. Your quirk’s function was that when activated and making eye contact with someone else, you could paralyze them for up to a whole minute. It removed said someone’s senses along with being unable to move, but when you used it too much in a day you could get migraines.

Perhaps that’s why you were chosen for this mission, there would be many villains in need of good restraint and a jail cell. Having them paralyzed would quicken the process of delivering justice.

You weren’t supposed to be on the offense though. You were supposed to support and learn.

A buzz came through the ear pieces you were both wearing, it was the Department. “All clear. Move in. Be careful, young heroes.”

You inhaled slowly. This was it. Could it even be your debut? Your skin prickled softly as you were suddenly aware of how chilly it was outside, and how humid the impending rain had made it.

“Ready, pipsqueak?” Bakugou called to you, his crimson eyes searching to make contact with yours.

You nodded. It would be okay, you told yourself, you’re with Bakugou, he’s strong. He’s your friend. You can defend each other. It’ll be okay.

He raised a brow at your lack of vocalization and glanced away briefly. A few moments passed with him deliberating, and he spoke again, a little louder. He was trying to make himself sound bigger for your benefit. “Don’t worry. You’re with me, I’m not gonna let them get to you. What kind of hero lets villains prey on the weak, anyway?” He smirked. “Plus, I never lose.”

If anyone could be comforting and slightly infuriating at the same time, it was Bakugou. You weren’t surprised that he snuck in that insult. He was incapable of saying anything remotely nice or comforting on it’s own, it always had to be slightly if not completely degrading. But you knew him enough to know he didn’t mean it to make you feel worse. He just had a complicated language.

“Yeah,” You responded, “It’d be pretty bad if I let them pick on you, right?”

You turned his insult on him. You returned his slightly irritated look with a smirk that replicated his own from mere moments before.

He blew it off, rolling his eyes and shrugging his broad shoulders. “Whatever. Let’s head in. Don’t forget you’re mostly here to observe and support.”

He didn’t give you time to respond, and he hopped off the ledge and landed with a thud. Dust sprayed up around his feet, and you died a little inside. In a good way. You tried to imitate his landing, but you weren’t able to recreate the powerful cloud at your feet. In fact, your landing was much lighter than his, graceful. He gave you a knowing look, one that spoke volumes about how much he knew you wanted to be like him.

It was embarrassing how well he could read you sometimes.

But was it so wrong to want to be like your role model?

Gosh, what a piss poor taste in role models you had.

The both of you silently infiltrated the base, footsteps light on the linoleum tiles. The main lights were all off, and your bright eyes reflected the dim rays coming from the windows, bless the existence of street lamps. You drew your goggles own over your face to hide the rebounding light, not wanting to give away your location to any possible guards. The air inside of the building was stale and smelled like a dusty schoolroom mixed with cigarette ash. It was disgusting, and Bakugou’s expression mirrored your own disdain for the scent.

You could feel your heartbeat in your ears. What would you encounter? So far, there hadn’t been any confrontation. It was… easy. Too easy?

You gave Bakugou another glance. He looked in his element, completely calm. His crimson eyes were slowly analyzing the rooms and hallway, taking it all in and cataloging it. He didn’t seem especially pleased that all the villains were away or sleeping. Perhaps hiding.

Then, suddenly, Bakugou grabbed your arm and pulled you back and out of the center of the hall. He gazed at the opposite end of the passage way, his intense glare angled at the intersection where two other hallways met the one the both of you were travelling. His arm snaked around to your midsection, and he moved you closer to the safety of the wall. You were torn between being a little flustered and being annoyed that he was moving you like a ragdoll. You could fight too! But… what was he sensing?

As if he could predict that you were about to ask him, his other hand clamped around your mouth, and he shook his head, a silent shush coming from him. Then, his hand dropped and his warm grip around you loosened, but he kept you more out of sight from whatever he was concealing you both from.

From the depths of the blackness, scaled tendrils shot out at you both. Not caught by surprise, Bakugou smoothly shoved you away and defended with a moderately large explosion against one of the tendrils. Blood sprayed from the wound dealt, and the numerous wiggling limbs withdrew. You blinked a few times, and tried activating your quirk and glancing around the dark rapidly. A squeal was heard, and the heavy sound of a large body dropping to the floor echoed around you. A soft breeze filled with particles swept past you, and you determined you had made eye contact with the villain.

Bakugou used the opportunity to advance and wrap capture tape around the frozen villain. It appeared that the villain’s quirk was the tendrils attached to his body.

“Nice move. Not bad for an extra.” Bakugou grunted, acknowledging your save.

“I’m not an extra.” You retorted. You weren’t really sure what he meant by that, but if anything you were the main bitch here.

Your small conversation was cut short at the arrival of three other opponents. One appeared to have a similar quirk to the one you just captured. The two others had something like a blade quirk, and one with claws.

Again, you felt tense as you geared up for another fight.

You activated your quirk as Bakugou launched an attack of his own, the both of you able to take out the clawed one and the bladed one. Bakugou spun around to face the larger tendril-man after delivering swift and hard punches to the weaker two, and you moved in with the restraints. You barely had enough time to secure the small victory as two tendrils shot out and were intercepted by explosions. You skidded back from the sheer force of the explosions, the two villains going flying into the wall.

Sheesh.

“Watch it!” You grumbled, lifting to your feet again. “You almost blew me away too.”

“Not my fault you’re weak.” Was his reply.

The villain sped forward with with surprising ability and evaded a punch from Bakugou’s smoking fists. You weren’t able to make eye contact either, so your quirk was moot and you fell back as the villain ran into you full force.

A kick met your cheek and you felt a pop come from the arch of your cheekbones. Another explosion boomed out, and the villain grunted as he was forced to put distance between himself and the raging blonde. Bakugou had used one of his gauntlets against the squid-like monstrous man.

“Based off of what I’ve seen, you have a paralyzing quirk.” The villain’s voice was gravelly, like he wasn’t used to speaking. “And the goggles you’re wearing must be to protect your eyes. Like Eraserhead, right?”

It was clear you were being spoken to, but you didn’t reply as you got back into fighting position. You made your own move against the villain, even though you weren’t supposed to be anything but support, and your fist connected with the villain’s face. The villain staggered back, and Bakugou grabbed his face and set off an explosion.

A tooth from the villain’s mouth hit your cheek, and the sheer brutality of Bakugou’s attack caught you off guard. That was frightening, you wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of it.

The villain twisted away, using the tendrils as a sacrifice to evade Bakugou’s boot. More blood sprayed across the walls as the explosions blasted away the soft skin of the tendrils.

“Don’t ignore me!” Bakugou hissed out, wiping some of the red liquid away from his eyes. “I’m what you should be focusing on right now.”

“But you aren’t my concern right now.” The villain spat out as thicker tendrils grabbed Bakugou by the ankle and sent him flying into the concrete wall. A sickening crack was heard as the wall crumbled from the impact, and you inhaled sharply. That wasn’t good.

Your distraction proved to be your downfall as the tendrils knocked you down next, feeling like punches to your midsection. Panicked, you swiped at the ropelike limbs, only able to minimally tear away at the skin of one. The rest pressed you to the ground roughly, and the pressure on you made it extremely difficult to inhale. As the villain stood over you, you activated your quirk again.

Immediately, a kick was delivered to your chin. “You aren’t going to get me. But those eyes of yours are proving to make this hard for me. You’ve taken down my men.”

“They were weak!” You exclaimed, though knowing the only reason the men were down was because of the teamwork you and Bakugou exhibited.

“Perhaps. But I think I need to do something about those eyes of yours.” A snakelike tendril trailed up your side, then your neck, and up your face until it came to rest on the goggles concealing your eyes. With a swift jerk, the goggles were taken off, revealing the top portion of your face and your (color) eyes.

A smile crept to the lips of the villain. “You have a pretty face. Too bad I have to maim it.”

Your eyes widened and you began to struggle harder in the grips on your enemy.

“Don’t you dare!” Bakugou called angrily, trying to pick himself up from the heap of rubble and blood he was in. He was battered so badly.

“Please don’t let him, Bakugou!” You cried out, the kick you sent out causing another tendril to pin down your legs with extra force. It couldn’t go this way. This was only an amber rank. You were here to learn. Your career couldn’t end like this! You weren’t even past the fourth week of first semester!

The smaller tendril hovered dangerously close to your eyes.

There was a large blast, multiple blasts, right as the tendril whipped across your eyes.

There was blood from you, and then from the villain.

You couldn’t see.

You couldn’t see at all.

The sheer amount of anger and desperation in the situation had given Bakugou the right amount of adrenaline and and motivation to pummel the villain into the ground with explosion after explosion. His arms cramped from the abuse of his quirk, he even used the sweat stored in his gauntlets in this final attack. Even as the villain lay motionless at his feet, coated in the pool of blood from both him and the enemy, he knew it was too late. It was his fault.

You had gotten hurt, permanently hurt, and he wasn’t able to win this time.

And you suffered for his loss.

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou #katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou x s/o #katsuki x reader #katsuki x s/o #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha x s/o #blinded

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laidirnighean · 7 years ago

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╳ :/

it was the salty stream of tears that managed to slip down brianna’s cheeks and burn the fragile cuts upon her face that finally pulled her out of her thoughts and into reality. a reality in which her body bled and her heart rate slowed. eyes focus on the pooling of blood that swells across her stomach, soaking the usual cream of her shirt and caking it in a dark, sticky red. eyes blink as she gazes at it, the shock of her mind taking a moment to catch up with her. they’d been attacked. by who? she wasn’t certain. but she remembered the stories kara and mike had told her about david- she figured, maybe that had been them. her hair hung loose and damp around her face, caked in the blood of those who had fallen before her and those who she had tried to save. the usual bright brown of her eyes had turned to a darkened storm grey and cracked busted lips perched into a slanted grimace. the world as she knew it was burning alive and she was incapable of doing anything about it.

a choke manages to pass through her then as she finally registers what is happening. what is going on. a tick of her head is quickly in procession before a bruised and purpled knuckle finds itself pushing against the cracked concrete that lay beside her feet. in an instant, she stands, balance wavering but stance strong. despite the tears that blurred her vision and stung her cheeks, she had to be strong. she always had to be strong. except, her body fought against her. ached and screamed in the moments that proceeded in her getting to her feet. and her leg, her leg that had never quite recovered, it gave in and she was falling once again. into strong arms and laid gently into ripped shorts worn upon scraped knees.

in an instant, she notices that the people around her, those who had fought by her side, are all turning and watching. she makes her way through the sea of broken bodies, broken buildings, broken life. and she tries to ignore it. focus on the person who had seemed to catch her in her fall. so gaze shifts to see kara hovering above her. her cheeks are cut, her hair dirty and fallen around a muddied face, but her eyes, her eyes are as blue as ever and they shine in blinding contrast. she could focus on her now. focus on the blue instead of the fallen bodies of those around her. or at least, she tries.

shaken hands lift to gently rest upon kara’s cheeks, ignoring the dirt that rests, and a thumb sweeps to ensure that she is real. and when she’s sure, when she’s POSITIVE that this is in fact kara matthews who sits before her, she cries. cries for the people she has lost, for the aches that run through her body. cries for fact that she’s bleeding out right here in the middle of a dustied field when she should be up and helping in the aftermath of something catastrophic.

“im sorry, im so sorry,” she whispers, resting her forehead against her own, body shaking and tears once again slipping, “i didn’t mean.. none of this was supposed to happen. im so sorry.” salt continues to bite at the injuries upon her face, but brianna pushes through to look at the woman who sits above her until her tears exhaust her and sleep feels welcomed. for the time she had been here, she wondered, how much of a burden had she truly been? between her leg, her need for multiple supply runs. her inability to save those they had lost and her agitation of not being able to find her husband- thoughts pause.

r o g e r.

in all the commotion she had forgotten. damned, she had told herself once if she ever let him slip her mind. “if he comes here, look after him.” she doesn’t need to breathe his name for kara to know who she speaks of. she’d know. she’d always know. “tell him it was quick. and easy. don’t let him know i hurt.” it wasn’t a lot as last words went, but he had always been her secret to hold and she’d be damned if she let death be the negotiator in her finally opening up about him.

she licks her lips then before nodding and resting her hand against her friend’s cheek. pain screaming through her body and increasing the weight that pressed upon her chest and the urgency that settled across her need to let go. “i always wanted a sister,” she nods, smile etching across her features, “i don’t think i could have gotten a better option..”

Send ╳ for my muse dying in your muse’s arms. || @daxambcrn

#v.endure and survive #icb you made me write this #blood tw #death tw #daxambcrn

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nationalcityy-a · 7 years ago

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HEARTBROKEN

it was the salty stream of tears that managed to slip down kara’s cheeks and burn the fragile cuts upon her face that finally pulled her out of her thoughts and into reality. a reality where nobody seemed to notice the heroic supergirl on her knees and engulfed in flames of burning ember and fiery red. her hair hung loose and damp around her face, caked in the blood of those who had fallen before her and those who she had tried to save. the usual bright blue of her eyes had turned to a darkened storm grey and cracked busted lips perched into a slanted grimace. the world as she knew it was burning alive and she was incapable of doing anything about it.

left foot shifts forward trepidly and in an instant, she notices that the people around her, those who had fought by her side, are all turning and watching. staring, mouths agape as she makes her way through the sea of broken bodies, broken buildings, broken life. and she tries to ignore it. she truly does. from the gear of the deo agents that lay scattered around her, to a body or two of those who they had come to fight. of those who she had tried to save. knees shake then as bottom lip wavers. the heartbeats of those around her ring loud, blurring out anything and everything else and forcing her to listen to the sound of death vs life.

because this wasn’t supposed to happen. nobody was meant to d i e.

she cries then. the weight of their lives weighing heavy upon her chest and causing the air in her lungs to all about vanish in an instant. legs shake and within moments, knees connect with the concrete below her as pain racks through her entire being. never once had she faced such immense loss. such callous grief. because kara had always known what the weight of being supergirl would be, she never thought she would have to live it. eyes shift as she looks down at her hands and at the blood that cakes them. fingers shaking before she shifts and tries desperately to rid herself of the remnants of what she’s sure will linger there forever.

and she can still feel them. watching her as she cries and screams and tries too hard to get rid of the guilt that wracks her body, until hands are placed on her shoulders and she’s forced to look at someone who’s knelt down beside her. warm, soft green orbs hover in front of her own. a steady, yet slightly spiked heartbeat takes over all else and kara is forced to concentrate past all the emotions that have been building up inside her. a blunt sob aches through her when she realises, this is the first of her friends, her f a m i l y, she’s seen alive.

shaken hands lift to gently rest upon lena’s cheeks, ignoring the dirt that rests, and a thumb sweeps to ensure that she is real. and when she’s sure, when she’s positive that this is in fact lena luthor who sits before her, kara cries. cries for the people she has lost, for the aches that run through her body. cries for fact that lena is real, and she is ALIVE.

“im sorry, im so sorry,” she whispers, resting her forehead against her own, body shaking and tears once again slipping, “i didn’t mean.. none of this was supposed to happen. im sorry.”

SEND ME “HEARTBROKEN” FOR MY MUSE TO SNAP/BREAK IN FRONT OF YOUR MUSE. || @luthordivergent

#wtf.#idk what happened but what the fuck.#luthordivergent #v.tbd #x.i look at you and suddenly everything makes sense || supercorp #blood tw #death tw

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trashikino · 8 years ago

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Someday the dream must end

remember that final fantasy au??? think you were done?? off the hook?? incorrect, im constantly devising ways to incorporate my love of shcool idols into my love of video games, watch in awe and amazement as i completely warp the plotline of ffx to fit my needs and also make Ruby Kurosawa Sad, also i blatantly ripped off the title from my favorite song in the soundtrack, sorry not sorry ((please listen to it its so good,,,,i cry,,,,))

anyways here have monsters magic and siblings crying ft yoshiko mari and kanan

“Hey, Ruby~! Keep up!” Yoshiko calls with a loppy smile from up on the ridge ahead of her, which is a really bad idea for someone who trips as often as Yoshiko does, really, doesn’t she think about this kind of thing at all – Mari yanks her away from the edge and pulls her into a too-affectionate hug as an excuse, but shoots Ruby a meaningful look over Yoshiko’s shoulder.

Ruby nods, stepping a little faster up the hill and tearing her eyes away from the sun’s reflection on the ocean. “We’re in Zanarkand again.” She says bluntly. “Are you….are you sure you’re ready for this, Mari?”

The waves crash up against the wall of the cliff and Ruby looks out to sea again, and she can see the ruins from around the curve of the mountain now – the walls pulsate with glimmering spirits like a beacon for the summoners on their home stretch.

Mari gives her a placating smile and walks over slowly, like her legs are only getting tired just now. She puts a hand on Ruby’s shoulder. “If we weren’t ready, we would still be in Besaid moping about things,” She says, and Ruby blushes and looks away for a moment. Maybe asking was a little cowardly.

She wasn’t looking for a way out, subconsciously, right?

No. Ruby casts the thought from her mind – she is going to do this. It was her idea, and Mari is willing to die for it, so to back away now…..! She can’t do it. It hurts too much to think about.

“Aaah~! The sun is refreshing, isn’t it? Look how it shines on the water! We should soak up this sunlight while we can, right, Ruby?” Mari says enthusiastically, and stretches her arms out towards the setting sun as if she can grab hold of it and hoist it back up.

Ruby laughs into her jacket collar again. “Thanks, Mari.” She says, sincerely.

She just smiles, and squeezes Ruby’s shoulder, hard, before walking down the hill after Yoshiko, who has tripped into the bramble somehow. “Don’t fall too far behind, okay?” she warns, and then proceeds to laugh at Yoshiko instead of heal her.

And so Ruby wanders not far behind, brushing off the chill that pursues her from the cliff’s wind.

Yoshiko, meanwhile, is awed at the glowing stone ruins, and traces the pulsing turquoise stone flesh with her hands, like the glow is some kind of powder that will come off. Mari slaps her hand away, but she’s still curious about it. “What are these? They’re stuck in the rock!”

“They’re Fayth,” Ruby says in a hum of subdued, quiet explanation. “They prayed for their souls to leave their bodies and turned into stone to realize a dream. These people are all dreaming together.”

“I-in a rock…?” She asks uncertainly, and taps on the side of the rock like it’s a fishtank. “Are they alive?”

Mari shakes her head and Yoshiko, looking somewhat disturbed, pulls her hand away from them. “Should you send them?” She looks at it, and her eyes flit back from the Fayth in their stone tombs to the pyreflies attracted to the monuments. Mari shakes her head again.

“They’re important where they are. Let them dream a while longer.”

“I’m going ahead, alright?” Yoshiko says abruptly, as if she isn’t even a little shaken. “The dashing Yohane will ensure the path ahead is clear of traps, beasts, and civilians!” She scurries away with a flourish.

Ruby drags her hand along the fayth, smooth stone skin and the bumps where their limbs and bodies entangle with the roots of trees or even each other. The light is pulsing. She puts her head to it, like they could speak to her.

Will she be able to speak when this is through?

She shivers and presses forward.

Yunalesca is waiting for them like she was last time. She seems highly, highly amused, seeing and recalling their faces. “You have come back a second time? And as a summoner no less?” She chuckles. “You two are of a truly selfless make, aren’t you? Sacrificing everything twice.”

Ruby is shaking where she stands, but Mari is the one being addressed so she has to wait. She saw visions of their last trip here on the way, memories rebounding against the walls of the ruined temple as pyreflies thick with energy recreate the actions of the souls who have passed through. She was close enough to Dia’s echo to touch it – to touch her.

“I am prepared to finish my journey.” Mari says solemnly, and then throws in, as more of an afterthought, “-lady Yunalesca.”

“Very well.” Her voice echoes and she extends a slender arm, and a delicate hand, fingers outwards as if Mari could dare to take her hand. “Choose who will become the Fayth for the final summoning.”

Her moment.

“I will!” Ruby says, sharply, before Yoshiko can so much as gasp. Ruby steps forward with desperate conviction. “I will become the Fayth for the final aeon.”

Yunalesca merely looks at Mari, who nods gravely.

“Ruby,” Mari says, as Yunalesca is walking down from the thronelike steps. “Are you sure?”

She laughs nervously. “It’s not like you can tell her “no”, Mari. R-ruby’s ready! I’m going to – h-help you kill,” Ruby loathes herself for shaking so much. It’s only a death. Not even a complete death. “Sin,” She squeaks out finally, relieved that she can stop talking and concentrate on the goddess that has arrived in front of her.

The woman holds Ruby’s face by the chin, long nailed finger dragging up the underside of her jaw as she looks almost appreciatively into her eyes. Yunalesca has been dead for a thousand years.

Ruby wonders if Dia is still unsent, too, and if she’s been dead for eight.

Eventually Yunalesca makes a satisfied “hmph”, and takes her hand away to cast a spell. Ruby sucks in a deep breath and tries to look proud. “Guardian of the divine summoner……cast aside your spirit to become the final tool against Sin.”

“Y-yes. I will.”

The goddess reaches into her and pulls her soul from the inside, and Ruby grits her teeth and bears it while her world unravels. Before she has left herself completely, she sees with open eyes the space between mortal and Fayth, shining like the most coveted of gemstones.

“They’re so bright,” She thinks, tears and snot running from her face in a completely un-guardian like manner.

After this Ruby knows she is very much gone; her bones betray her and her flesh turns to stone in a fractal way, each inch the stone has crept up fracturing her in little ways. Her spirit, which she is still contained within, glows separate from her body and Ruby watches the pain from some removed place in a different plane of existence.

It’s nearly hard to come up with a dream, despite having longed for this chance for so many years to become the powerful being that can make good her sister’s redemption of the world: Ruby wants to bring peace and renown to Dia even if she is dead and can no longer appreciate those things because Ruby love love loves Dia and, when this is all done, they will be reunited in the astral plane and nothing will ever harm them again.

A voice that isn’t hers sounds the last thought out, although it is very similar. This voice is Ruby-adjacent. Powerful Ruby.

Ruby latches onto it with fervor and feels the burning of her soul eke out a new form for her, large and powerful where her old body was not.

The statue cracks and Ruby wiggles her fingers that are growing harder and shrapnel-like in their sharpness, and her eyes which have become dark and concaved things pulsate with a teal light reminiscent of her old eye color but with the added flair of something ancient underneath.

Broad, powerful, like the fiends they have fought. Ruby wants to protect Dia, and Mari, and Yoshiko, and all of Spira if it will let her, and for this endeavor she will need something fast, agile, strong.

Wings sprout from the statue but they are already stone – that body is well and truly empty by this point. It gleams over with one more lapse of spirit and Ruby continues forming herself from the scattered pyreflies that drift affront the stone girl.

The light beings gather at her base and she feels the pressure of matter upon her again; her “body” is forming into something more tangible. Ruby is hunched in this form and there is an added counterweight to her back that she was unaware of. Her face is long and ends in a forked red horn, which glitters like her namesake and must be made of the gemstone, too.

She roars and lands in front of Mari, then preens, spreading dazzling crimson wings and giving a beat of them before leaning down to smell the summoner with a wolfish snout. Mari cries softly and hangs off her face with its new horn, nearly as large as she is.

Ruby finds she is incapable of crying but shares the sentiment.

Yunalesca claps once. “A marvelous beast. Are you ready to defeat Sin?”

She feels the pyreflies making up her body drift away as if by wind, and suddenly she isn’t out anymore, she’s stuck in her rock. Mari nods and keeps her head low; Yoshiko is actually right beside Ruby with a painfully confused look on her face.

Mari drags her off and Yoshiko tries desperately to crack Ruby’s stone tomb somehow, hand rough against her hardened arm. There is a ghost of feeling, to it – she felt that, felt touch, that is, which means all those things outside –

Her monument is dragged off and the world goes hazy and black.

“I will become the last Fayth.” Kanan said, holding her sword high. “For Spira.” Her voice broke there. “For my friends, so that none of them must share in our fate.”

Dia didn’t – or couldn’t – say anything so Mari screamed for Kanan then, with a breathless, breaking note, but it did not reverse the process. Too quickly Kanan became stone and disappeared into pyreflies. They reformed eventually into the final aeon that would kill Sin: A spiraling dragon, with a long, thin body dotted by two pairs of wings and six legs, each equipped with the paws of a different beast. She spun in the air and pierced it with horns like a two pronged drill.

The Kanan that came back was different but still kind and gentle, and Mari knew she was still there when she first came to land in front of her instead of Dia like she was supposed to.

They were sent off as a group and came back with only two – upon being summoned a second time, Kanan slew Sin where it stood in the ocean and turned to find Dia killed by its spines, collapsing into grief and pyreflies that got caught up in those escaping Sin’s body.

Gone, but at a steep cost. Mari took Ruby home that day and didn’t say a word until they were called upon to celebrate. They abstained, and moved to Besaid, where they had a quiet few years until….

Mari summons Ruby with a flash of light; connected to her soul, Ruby feels the tremendous drain it has created on Mari’s strength; she can feel that she is going to waste away if she does not receive copious amounts of attention, fast.

Somewhat stupidly, perhaps, Ruby thinks that maybe if she can kill Sin fast enough, or fly down from the heavens she was cast aside to with enough speed, she can save Mari – maybe, anyways, hopefully. There’s at least a chance.

Not exactly.

From the moment she has touched down, broad claws planted in the cliffside, she is grappling with the biggest, most unstoppable of demons, feeling plated arms slam into her side and rend feathers from her wings, and it’s ludicrous, really, because she was a girl not eighteen years of age and now she is an aeon strong enough to wrestle with Sin itself.

Mari’s strength saps a little more, that flagging essence creating a sense of urgency. Sin won’t kill her: Mari dying will.

Ruby sees a crowd of sin’s scales crawl too close to Yoshiko and Mari’s place, and swats them aside with a mighty tail before launching herself at Sin, claws and talons and fangs grappling with anything and everything she has, her spirit and body committed to tearing the monster apart. It seems almost successful if the thick, leaking wounds on its sides, dripping with pyreflies and black ooze, have anything to say about it.

Sin wails and sways in the water, a behemoth maw closing around Ruby’s right wing, which is ripped from her back.

She can’t scream, but Mari, connected to her by spirit, lets out a strangled noise and falls over on the ground from pain.

Ruby plunges her teeth into the thick neck of Sin and shakes and rips until she is sure she has found the center.

She rips it apart, one last tendon to cut, like the last thread holding on the arm of one of her stuffed animals back at home (what a strange thought) and the carcass lies before her in the ocean. There’s a sense of elation, but Mari still hasn’t gotten up and Ruby is fading quickly, so she needs to do something fast, she needs to say something, or make some sort of gesture, or –

Her body begins to melt off of her spirit, in turn with Sin’s, so Ruby sticks her face as close as she can without harming Mari or Yoshiko and gives them a pleading look. Mari is also disappearing, staring up at the air and all the dead things glowing in it with a dazed look.

“Kanan,” She breathes out harshly, pointing uselessly at the cloud of spirits. “I’m...”

“Why didn’t you tell me you would die?!” Yoshiko screams, practically. She’s bleeding, but still very much mortal and very much remaining in her place. “I thought we were just going to summon whoever was summoned the first eight times – I thought – I thought -!”

Ruby dissipates before she can hear. She’s mostly sure Yoshiko thought they’d all be the first to come out alive, though. That’s the kind of stupid thing Yoshiko liked to believe in, constantly. That they would be the special ones, that is.

Up in the air, Ruby can feel the pyreflies that made up her body rising higher and higher, without her, and congealing in the sky in what she is sure is a mess of dead meeting the dead, spirits that had been absorbed so long ago they no longer remembered being conscious, a small mercy.

Is this what it is to be a ghost?

Unsent?

Ruby thinks she is floating, aimlessly. It’s not entirely bad.

“Ruby.” She must be tired, or dreaming, still, because she’s certain that that is – “Ruby, please…..We don’t have much time…”

“Dia!” Ruby reaches for the voice, and even if she is technically “floating” she feels as if she can run into her arms, wherever they may be. Luckily they are dead and Dia doesn’t need to be ran to; she sort of just materializes closer to Ruby, who grabs her despite neither of them really existing at the moment and holds her close. “We came back……we k-killed Sin, s-so I could see you…..”

Dia looks at Ruby with tears in her eyes. “You’re thoughtful, Ruby, truly.” She looks away.

“But I fear you have made a terrible mistake.”

“What?” She asks, uncertain. There’s a tugging at her pyreflies – wasn’t she disconnected from that body now? Ruby is anxious now. “We’re dead. We can’t make much more of a mistake than that.”

Dia inhales, long and slow-like, until she regathers her bearings and gives her younger sister a long, sad look. “Kanan…..became Sin, after we defeated it. The truth we learned when we fought it…..going inside Sin……. Yevon is there, and he uses the leftover body of the final aeon to….”

“No.” Ruby says quickly. “I only did this so that I could - no, no! I don’t want to do that!”

Her sister pulls her by the shoulders and gives Ruby a grave look. “Ruby. We do not have much time. Kanan has been returned to Mari, but only after death. We must end this – we must kill Yevon.”

“We’re dead!” Ruby cries. “Isn’t everything supposed to be over when we’re dead?!”

“Go to Zanarkand, early. Mari had a friend there – Maru. Find her. You will destroy the city but it’s not truly you, not truly your fault-“

“I don’t want to I don’t want to I don’t want to I don’t want t-“ She sobs, and Dia tries to placate her with transparent hands while she talks over her.

“Bring Maru back, we need someone from the dream Zanarkand to do this. From Mari’s.“

Ruby sniffles even though she technically isn’t producing snot, because she’s a ghost. She’s being pulled away from Dia, again. How long will it go on? “I’m scared.”

Dia smiles. “Remember to do your best, okay? I believe in you. I’ll find you on that day – when Sin is next killed. I’ll wait for you. I swear it.”

A hundred thousand leagues beneath the ocean, Ruby opens a hundred eyes on an only barely-formed body.

Find the dream world, she repeats to herself, consciousness lagging behind a dark thing that aches to find a city. Find Maru. Bring her back. Ruby thinks. She has to end it - be the last one.

Sin rumbles appreciatively at the sentiment.

Zanarkand will be ashes when it is done, but for now, it is the Calm, and Sin must wait.

#Ruby Kurosawa #Mari Ohara #yoshiko tsushima #dia kurosawa #kanan matsura #surprise!! i actually didnt make this very shippy #there is however #kanadia #which is a better ship name than kanamari fuck yoy #anyways mmeeee??? making stupid aus to fulfill my monster needs?? id NEVER #ruby is a lil more vague than id have liked but Trust shes cool #like think a gigantic wolf-bird also gemstone motif #like a griffon but like instead of a lion its a dog #but shes got the cool red wings and her back is lined with rubies and i have one (1) horn because why tf not #kanan is pretty much just knockoff river boy from spirited away tho rip like is there even any better monster to assign her???#im like ninety percent sure that specific dragon is the most Kanan Monster i have ever seen and will ever see????#anwways. thank u so much for tolerating my garbage i love this au and might continue it #yoshiko is p much going to become auron its cool i swear #trash talks #writing #aqours #ll sinshine #ffx au

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kisipie · 8 years ago

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Just Sorry: A Mini Series (Chapter 10/??)

Warning: Following chapters will contain Smut, Violence, Explicit Language, Daddy Kink, Rough Sex, Angst etc.

Previous Chapter: 9

Word Count: 2,191

Yongguk was a cold man. Ever since he was a teenager, the brunette knew he was incapable of having feelings for another person. Not even his parents or siblings could make him feel any once of love or joy in his body. Of course; there was times he could show a simple laugh here and there but for the most part he felt…nothing.

Alexithymia was what the doctors told him when he finally decided to seek help for his ‘illness’ at the age of twenty. But by that point, the young man had already dropped out of school and sought shelter in nearby bathhouses. His parents were unable to help him anymore. His older brother was going to college and they couldn’t afford to support both boys along with his sister. They had offered to send him off to a uncle living in London but Yonnguk opposed. Instead, he had packed up his things and left. If his parents couldn’t take care of him, that was fine, he could do it himself. All he needed was money and a place to stay.

That was when he met Himchan, a local rebel working for one of South Korea’s infamous drug lords, ‘X’. Looking for new recruits, a little convincing was all that was needed for the younger to get Yongguk a meeting with his boss. And straight away the brunette was hired and taught the ins and outs of X’s organization.

Yongguk had only meant to work a few months for the guy until he was able to get up on his feet again. But what he didn’t expect to actually have a talent for smuggling drugs into the country. He was the only one able to sweet talk his way past the fishermen as docked boats filled with cocaine, meth, heroin, (whatever was sniffed, inhaled or injected) waited aboard for him and his teammates to handle.

Five months had turned into 5 years of drug handling until one day X and a few members of his advisory had been busted. With no one left to take over, the rest of the organization agreed to put up a vote for the next leader. And to his surprise, majority of the votes went to Yongguk. Unable to understand why his teammates had chosen him, he knew he had to live up to X’s expectation of his company. And with the disconnect from his emotions, there was nothing stopping the new leader from killing those who got in the way of his and X’s dream of becoming the biggest drug lords South Korea has ever heard of.

It had all been planned out. Everything was set into stone until two people by the name of Jaebum and Reina flipped things around.

“So, what was it you wanted to tell me?” Your eyes looked over at Jaebum as his hands began to fidget with the ends of his sweatshirt. Never have you seen him act so nervous. Not even when he had to speak in front of nearly five hundred guests at his company’s annual Christmas party. Jaebum was always calm and calculated about every move he made. But tonight, all of that went out the window as soon as you stepped foot inside his bedroom.

“It’s nothing really. Well that’s a lie it is something...How can I put this-” Jaebum spoke out as his hands rubbed against his light blue ripped jeans. Staring into your eyes, he finally found the courage to get up from the couch and make his way over the bed where you were sitting on. Making sure there was some respectable distance between you two, he turned his gaze towards a random art painting against the left side of room and sighed. “You have got to be the most frustrating woman I’ve ever encountered in my life”

“Excuse me?” Your eyebrows rose in slight offense. Trying to process the words that just came out of the man’s mouth, you were about to give a smart remark before a gentle hand on your knee stopped you.

“What I mean is…These…feelings I have for you are frustrating. I don’t know if I like you or just like the kindness you’ve shown me since the moment you walked into the mansion. Now I know I’m not the nicest person to work for; let alone live with. But you have been the only girl to stand up to me and actually listen to what I have to say. Not because of the contract you signed with us but due to the fact that you’re just a wonderful person, Y/N.” As Jaebum’s somewhat of a confession spilled from his lips, he cautiously turned his head to finally look you in the eyes with a small smile. “And I know I’m probably the last guy you would even consider to look at in that sort of way. But I just had to get this off my chest.”

Utterly shocked was the best way to describe what you were feeling at the moment. Yes, Jaebum was an attractive man but you never thought of him as a boyfriend. Plus, with the way things were going for you and Jackson, nothing could get in the way of messing that up.

“Listen Jae, this is really flattering and all but… I don’t want to complicate the friendship we have right now. And what about Sumin? I thought you two had something going on?” Slowly removing your hand from his, you could sense the awkward tension building up as you stood up. “She’s the one you should be having this sort of conversation with not me.”

“Sumin and I have a mutual understanding of our situation and she knows my feelings would never match the way she cares about me. Yes, it sounds quite harsh but that’s the truth.” He quickly replied as his hands combed through his hair. Letting out a frustrated sigh he stood up as well and walked over to where you were standing. “All I’m saying is think about it. I know what you have with Jackson is special. Even Jinyoung knows it too.”

“Jinyoung and I already talked about that months ago-“

“Yes, yes Jinyoung is always the supportive one” Jaebum mumbled underneath his breath. Inching a bit closer to you, he reached for both of your hands again. “One date. That’s all I ask. Let me take you on one date and if you still don’t hold any feelings for me I’ll understand and take a step back. But until then I’m not going to stop trying until I can fully understand what I’m feeling for you.”

His offer wasn’t a bad one. In fact the more you thought about it, the more you found yourself slowly nodding your head in agreement. What damage could one date do? You’ve been on dates with Jinyoung plenty of times and nothing too serious seemed to happen between the two of you. “Fine. I’ll give you one date.”

The grin that appeared on the other’s face made him seem like a kitten. Unable to stop the similar smile from tugging on your lips you were surprised by Jaebum wrapping you up in his arms as he pulled you towards his broad chest. “Thank you, Princess. I’ll promise you’ll have a good time.” He mumbled into your hair before placing a gentle peck against your forehead. Finally pulling away to stare into your eyes, he hesitantly leaned in for a kiss but was stopped short by his room door busted open.

‘Are you fucking kidding me, Im Jaebum?!!”

Jackson was absolutely furious. Just how stupid could the young CEO be? Especially after everything that went down with Reina. If it wasn’t for Jackson, Jaebum would have ended up in jail a long time ago due to those messy side deals he would get involved with. And to go back into dealing with Yongguk out of all people? The boy was clearly asking for a death wish.

Once the blonde had entered the mansion, he disregarded everyone who tried to get his attention. Not even BamBam offering his leather jacket he promised to lent him could stray his mind off finding Jaebum.

Taking two steps at a time up towards the master bedroom, he didn’t bother to knock as he slammed opened the door.

“Are you fucking kidding me Im Jaebum! After everything’s that happened you’re going to deal with that jackass again?!” Jackson roared out before his feet stopped sort when noticing your petite frame in front of his boss. There were so many questions going on in his head that he couldn’t process them fast enough.

‘What were you doing in Jaebum’s room? Why are those two so close now? Did he miss something since the last time he went away?’

Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he took in a deep breath and held on tightly to the folder he still had in his hands since leaving Im Company. “Babygirl, can you give me and Jaebum a moment please? We’ll be downstairs later for dinner.” Jackson asked calmly as he saw you nod your head and move towards the door. Stopping you to place quick kiss to your temple, his hard eyes never left the other man standing in the room as he wanted to make one thing clear. You were his and no one else’s.

Knowing that his message was received by the way he saw Jaebum’s lower jaw jutted out slightly, he closed the door behind you and turned his focus back to what he had originally came into the elder’s room for.

“You know something JB...The guys and I bust our asses every day to make sure your company is running smoothly. No scandals, no greedy employees, no shady business deals; and here you go fucking it all up.”

“What the hell are you talking about Jackson?” Jaebum hissed as his hands balled up into tight fists. How dare the other barge into his room and start asking questions as if he owned the place. Last time the young man checked, he was the CEO of a multimillion-dollar business and could fire anyone within a blink of an eye. Surely the blonde was asking for a death-wish.

“Don’t hand me that bullshit. I have everything right here.” Slamming the folder down on the floor by the brunette’s feet, three sheets of paper flew out with images of Daehyun, Himchan and Jongup hanging around the loading dock of Im Company’s building. “Next time you want to do something stupid, make sure your assistant hands you these papers personally. You’re lucky it was me instead of that intern you fuck from time to time or anyone else for that matter. I swear you always get so sloppy with your work.” Jackson began to rant while walking over to his friend’s mini bar to grab a quick drink. Not caring which bottle he took, Jackson opened it up and poured the room-temperature liquid into an empty glass.

“Look it’s not what you think Jacks. Yeah, I’m dealing with Yongguk but it’s not like last time. I just needed something to post our reputation-“

“Our reputation?! What, so you want to go from “The wealthiest 23-year old’ to the ‘Jackass who lost everything for dealing with drugs and human trafficking? I thought you were done with them? Especially after Reina. She was the only thing good that you got out those people.”

“Don’t you dare bring her up!” Jaebum’s voice roared throughout the room. If it wasn’t for his sound proof walls, he was sure everyone would be able to hear their conversation. Taking a few deep breaths to calm down his rising temper, his eyes stared straight into Jackson’s as he spoke on a softer tone. “I know what I’m doing. Once this business deal goes through, I’m done with Yongguk. I have the connections he needs and I certainly don’t have a problem with getting paid for it. Now as long as no one else knows what’s going down we’ll be fine. Can I trust you not to say anything?” The brunette question with an arched eyebrow. He knew the other would agree to it. Jackson was well known for his loyalty to his friends and when it came to any of the Seven Boys the blonde would put his life on the line just to make sure his friends were okay. And it wasn’t like Jackson was innocent himself.

“Man whatever. I won’t say anything. But the minute I see Yongguk’s face around here I’m pulling out from the company in Seoul. I’ll go back to China and handle things there but until then, just be careful.” Jackson finally caved as he downed the last few drops of his drink. Placing the glass down on the counter, he then walked over to Jaebum with his hand held out for a handshake, their way of sealing a deal. But the moment he had the brunette’s hand in his, he pulled him in close with a serious expression.

“I just have one request to ask.”

“Yeah. Anything. What is it?”

“Stay away from Y/N’

#got7 scenarios #got7 smut #got7 #Jackson Wang #Im Jaebum #Park Jinyoung #Kisipie Stories #Story: Seven Boys

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