#sorry for putting everything of substance in the tags instead of in the actual post
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Hell Screen
narrator: Yoshihide was an artist that everyone hated and who was an awful person, but his daughter was kind and sweet and everyone loved her so we all kinda tolerated her dad
Yoshihide: I would do anything for my daughter, Yuzuki. I can't paint something unless I've seen it with my eyes.
Yuzuki: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Filial_piety
Lord Horikawa: You've painted some nice art for me. I'll do literally any favor for you now.
Yoshihide: Can you release my daughter from your service
Lord Horikawa: no. fuck you
narrator: he wasn't in love with her or anything, he just felt bad that Yoshihide was her only family.
Lord Horikawa: Also I'm commissioning a massive scene of the Buddhist Hell, artist who can't paint something without having seen it
Yoshihide: ok
[various agonies of Yoshihide's apprentices]
[psychological agonies of Yoshihide also]
Yuzuki: [is seen growing unhappier and more stressed as the days go by]
narrator: people are saying Lord Horikawa's forcing himself upon her. this is false because he is too cool. this is Yoshihide's fault
[incident in which the narrator encounters Yuzuki fleeing from what was clearly assault]
narrator: yeah
Yoshihide: I'm almost done with the painting. I just need to see a maiden burn in a carriage so I can paint it
Lord Horikawa: okay [puts Yuzuki in a carriage and burns it]
narrator: stop saying it's because she didn't reciprocate his love it was clearly to punish Yoshihide for being so fucked up. I know this is true because Lord Horikawa said so
-- End --
#hell screen#what do i tag this.#sa tw#why is that the common tag… why does no one spell out the full thing… sa is subterranean animism to me#this post is because im thinking about an lcb ryoshu fic#anyway hell screen is such a great story for using literary analysis skills#it is both showing you and telling you but what it is telling you contradicts what it is showing you#and it’s up to you to analyze it for yourself and form an image of what’s really going on#unironically think it would’ve been better to read this in school than some of the short stories we did read#sorry for putting everything of substance in the tags instead of in the actual post#me post
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Night of a Lifetime - Michael Langdon x Fem! Reader (Requested)
Summary: (Au) Michael and Y/N have been best friends and roommates for awhile. Y/N has been in love with him for awhile too, but tries dating someone else to get over Michael knowing he’s just a player. But when Michael sees her with someone else, he gets angry.
Warnings: Angst, fuckboy! Michael, jealous! Michael, possessive! dom! Michael, sexual tension, some dirty talk, biting, sexual situations, sensual touching, some choking, strong language
A/N: Finally had some time to write and got this written! @saltyshaggymeme wanted an AU fic of Michael with a “man-bun”, so I added that in of course, so hope you enjoy! Let me know! <3
I haven’t written in over a month, maybe even two, due to being so busy with work and I feel like my writing has already lost so much substance so I apologize if this is shitty.
And I will be posting my Xavier fic about loving his scars sometime next week hopefully!
Tagged!: @hecohansen31 @blakewaterxx @sarahandthejets @michaelsapostle @1-800-bitchcraft @ccodyfern @rocketgirl2410
(tagged some who i thought may want to read but just ignore if not !! )
The piercing blue eyes of Michael Langdon stare into Y/N’s, baring straight into her soul. Michael’s long layered locks are up in a bun, a few strands framing around his face perfectly, giving him an alluring and intimidatingly handsome appearance. He grins confidently and sultry, causing her heart to flutter, making her want to kiss his soft, full lips already, yearning to satiate the hunger inside of her for him.
But in just the blink of an eye, the vision of Michael in front of her fades away completely, causing Y/N to shake her head a bit and blink a few more times before narrowing her eyes on the actual person in front of her.
Brock, the guy Y/N was currently dating sits beside her on the couch, having had snapped his fingers to get her attention as she clearly zoned out and her mind wandered to a completely different person.
“You okay,” Brock asks as he scoots closer to Y/N on the couch, reaching over for the remote and lifting it up to the television to put the movie they’re watching on pause. “I was talking and you just weren’t saying anything,” he adds.
“Yeah, sorry,” Y/N forces a smile. “I was just, uh, thinking about what movie you’d want to watch next,” she smiles more to seem more sincere and like she wasn’t just fantasizing about another man.
Y/N and Brock had been on a couple of dates before, having met in a shared class last semester. She didn’t really have a thing for him, hence why it was so easy for her mind to drift off to someone else in particular. But Brock was cute, personable and seemingly good enough for distracting Y/N from her mind-consuming thoughts of her actual crush: Her roommate and best friend, Michael Langdon.
She and Michael had known each other a few years, having had bonded and really connected from the get go when meeting at freshman orientation. Michael didn’t have much family, and Y/N was the first person he felt he could really trust, the two forming a strong bond once meeting and getting along together so well.
Though, they had never been anything other than friends. Y/N had grown feelings for Michael over the months, but would never dare dream of telling him, knowing he didn’t feel the same way, especially with knowing how he jumped from girl to girl.
Michael was a bit of a fuckboy for lack of a better term. Michael didn’t date, didn’t have relationships, didn’t have crushes. Just flings, hook-ups, one time things. He was the stereotypical college boy, knowing how popular he was considering his handsome looks and flirty charm.
Michael was still sweet and friendly nonetheless, but he wasn’t interested in any type of commitment or relationship that didn’t end that night or following morning at the latest. He wasn’t ready to settle down in any way as of yet.
Y/N knowing this about Michael, could never imagine telling him of her feelings, figuring he wouldn’t just reject her, but would complicate their friendship too. Even with Michael being a fuckboy, player, whatever you wanted to call it, he still always made time for Y/N, letting her know she was the most important person in his life. So she’d rather have him in her life as her best friend, than not at all.
Since she knows she and Michael can never be together, she’s decided it’s time to start dating and to stop waiting around and hoping for Michael to admit some kind of love for her when she knew it wasn’t true.
Or so she thinks.
Nevertheless, when Brock asked her out, she went for it, figuring it would be good for her to move on from Michael and to get over her feelings. But, here she was, on the couch of her shared apartment picturing Michael as her date instead of Brock, attempting and failing to hide her feelings about everything.
Of course Y/N knew she didn’t really like Brock and didn’t have an actual interest in dating him. But she wanted to get over her feelings for Michael so despairingly, she was desperate for any kind of distraction and wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.
But, even as Brock proceeded with making flirtatious moves, scooting closer to Y/N, and turning her face to his and kissing her, Y/N knew it was going to be more difficult than she thought when all she could think about and picture was Michael instead.
So she tried to lose herself in the feeling, in any positive feeling when kissing Brock back, trying to push her feelings and desires for Michael aside in the process.
The two ignore the movie playing on the television, making out on the couch like a couple of high school teenagers who have the house alone for the first time. Y/N lets Brock wrap an arm around her to pull her closer to him, resting his other hand on her exposed knee just below where her dress cuts off, slowly moving it up as he seems to have only one idea in mind she knows.
Typical college guys.
Y/N doesn’t care and goes along with it, thinking maybe sleeping with Brock will break whatever spell Michael has on her and it’ll be a foot in the right direction of getting over him.
But before she can make a decision or even have another thought about it, the lights in the living room turn on, a voice clearing their throat, and an obvious tension overtaking the atmosphere.
Brock and Y/N pull away from kissing and turn their heads to the other side of the room, seeing who other than Michael standing there.
He looks intimidating, his crystal blue eyes still beautiful but showcasing an unusual rage as he glares lightly. His long, layered hair that reaches past his shoulders is tied up in a well kept bun, always adding a sexiness to him when he has his hair up.
His mouth is frowning, his light pink lips still looking just as soft and plump as normal, but having an irritation to them. Dressed in a casual black t-shirt that’s just tight enough to show enough of his fit physique as he crosses his arms over his broad chest, black jeans to match and Doc Martins. He looks devilishly handsome, practically jaw-dropping, per usual.
“What are you doing here,” Y/N asks, narrowing her eyes and trying to ignore the increase of her heart beat as she looks at him, her body reacting more to Michael’s appearance alone than she was when kissing Brock.
“I live here,” Michael states almost sarcastically, yet still impassive.
Y/N rolls her eyes, pushing her captivated feelings to the side and putting up her own irritated front. “I mean, what are you doing here right now? I thought you were going out to meet up with some people and wouldn’t be home all night?”
“Changed my mind,” Michael answers detached, eyes glancing over to Brock beside her and staring daggers into him practically, causing Brock to look noticeably uncomfortable as he tries to avoid eye contact with Michael.
Y/N sighs, leaning back on the couch and crossing her own arms over her chest. “Well. Don’t mind us then, we’re just watching a movie. So you can go to your room now or whatever and leave.”
“Didn’t look like you were just watching a movie to me,” Michael states angrily as he looks at Y/N, ignoring the second part of her words, glaring a bit more and diverting his eyes from Y/N to Brock again beside her. “Who are you?” He asks a little too harshly
“This is Brock, my date for the evening,” Y/N emphasizes, answering. “Brock, this is Michael, my roommate,” Y/N adds looking from Brock and back to Michael.
“And best friend,” Michael adds irritated.
“Well, um cool,” Brock begins lightly. “Nice to meet you,” he gives a small wave at Michael, smiling a bit in the hopes that whatever tension that’s in the air will dissipate.
But that fails as only more tension seems to rise as the seconds pass. “Not really. This wasn’t the most comfortable scene to be coming home to,” Michael states as he keeps his arms crossed and looks back over to Y/N. “He needs to be heading out. It’s getting late.”
Y/N narrows her eyes again, Michael’s words catching her off guard. “It’s like ten o’ clock?” She states obviously.
“And? It’s getting late,” Michael repeats, furrowing his eyes and diverts his gaze to Brock. “So, go on and get going,” he says, dropping his arms and gesturing towards the door behind him so he can leave.
“Uhm,” Brock narrows his eyes too, but more confused, unsure if he should actually be leaving or not and looking at Y/N for a clarification.
“He doesn’t have to leave, we’re in the middle of watching a movie still.” Y/N points out, uncrossing her arms as she sits up more.
“What does that have to do with anything? It’s getting late and--”
“It’s Friday night,” Y/N interjects.
“--And I’m going to bed, so I would rather not be disturbed by the movie, or whatever else that might go on,” Michael articulates.
“Whatever else? Are you serious?” Y/N glares, standing up and finding an anger building inside of her. “That’s so hypocritical.”
Y/N was no stranger to Michael having girls over, whether that be them in the living room on the couch like Y/N and Brock, or in Michael’s room. Y/N never said anything, never interrupting and disturbing whatever they were clearly doing, always letting Michael live his life because they’re adults and this wasn’t high school (and she never wanted to risk showing any jealousy too).
And yet, Michael has the nerve to demand that her date for the evening, whether she actually liked him or not, leave when Michael’s come home now, though he wasn’t even supposed to be home in the first place.
“Hypocritical how?” Michael raises his head, almost amused but trying to act clueless. “I’ve asked nicely for your guest to leave as it is late and I would like to go to bed knowing that my apartment is free of strangers.”
“Brock isn’t a stranger, he’s my guest, and you’re kicking him out very rudely, so that’s bullshit,” Y/N argues.
“Um, hey,” Brock interjects shyly, “I don’t want to get in the middle of.. whatever this is that’s starting, so I’m gonna just, you know, head out,” Brock says awkwardly, interrupting the current conversation and standing up.
“What, you are?” Y/N looks at him with a bit of disappointment. She wasn’t really that upset over Brock wanting to leave, finding more relief in it than anything. But she didn’t want him to leave because it would mean Michael would have won, and then she’d also lose further opportunity in trying to get over her feelings for Michael, or attempts, at least.
“Yeah, I’ll just see you later,” he smiles a bit and grabs his jacket off the couch and walks past Michael, still avoiding eye contact and leaves out the door without another word being said.
Y/N watches quietly as Brock leaves without even looking back. Y/N crosses her arms and glares back at Michael, a bit of humiliation and obvious anger showing on her face, remaining silent until the door shuts behind Brock.
“Glad that’s over with,” Michael speaks fluidly and walks off towards his bedroom door, thrilled Brock is finally gone and not just away from Y/N, but also that no other opportunity to be kissing her or whatever else will occur now.
"Glad that’s over with? What is wrong with you,” Y/N calls out, turning to him as he walks by her, obviously frustrated with the situation. “That was so rude and embarrassing! You had no right in doing any of that.”
Michael turns to her, “Look, I know it’s your apartment, but it’s mine too, and I wasn’t comfortable having him here.”
“He was here for me, not you,” she states. “Why would it make you uncomfortable to have him over when he’s not even here to see you in the first place, and we weren’t doing anything that would have bothered you anyway,” she says. “You weren’t even supposed to be here, but I’m allowed to have whoever I want over and when I want.”
“No you aren’t,” Michael snaps, his fists suddenly tightening by his sides. “Not when it’s some weird, random guy that you haven’t mentioned to me about.”
“I have mentioned him before,” Y/N points out. “He’s not some weird, random guy. He’s from a class I had last semester,” Y/N says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Michael narrows his eyes, “You mean that’s the guy you’ve been going out with and texting and shit?” Michael points, tone becoming more irritated. “You had one class with him and then ran into him on campus. You hardly know the guy, and you have him over in our shared apartment without me knowing?”
“Oh, what, I need your permission now in who I go out with?” She furrows her eyes. “You never ask me for ‘permission’ when you bring girls over.”
“That’s completely different,” Michael exclaims, gesturing out. “This is you and some guy you hardly know, and you two were fucking making out! Who knows what else could have happened!”
“Who cares?” Y/N speaks confused and frustrated. The way Michael was talking to her made her feel like she was some kind of child. She and Brock had been seeing each other for just the last few weeks but she knew him a lot better than Michael did with the girls he hangs with. “What does that have to do with anything? That’s between he and I.”
“No, it’s not. You can’t just be fucking making out with some random guy in our apartment without me knowing. You should have checked with me first!” He calls.
“Why are you so mad and yelling,” Y/N crosses her arms. “You’ve been so weird lately and just,” she shakes her head, “over-protective. What’s up your ass?” She asks, causing Michael to roll his eyes. “You know you have been, don’t you dare deny it,” she points.
Michael had been acting a bit strange lately whenever Y/N happened to mention the new guy she had been talking to. From a series of interrogating questions, to annoyed behavior and a short temper, always emphasizing that Y/N should be careful. Y/N never thought anything of it, always thinking Michael was just in a bad mood from class or work and she just caught him at the wrong times, while also being a normal best friend and warning her to be safe.
But she didn’t know that Michael’s “weird” and “over-protective” behavior was due to him being jealous and actually upset over having to hear about Y/N talk and gush about some guy she was apparently crushing on, her smiling and giggling over texts and saying how nice and great he was. Michel hated hearing it, but couldn’t tell her to stop without making it obvious the reason why.
“I’m not being weird or anything,” he glares. “You just can’t be doing this,” he says, knowing he didn’t have any other valid argument and his behavior wasn’t making any sense. But he was too scared to admit the truth.
Y/N stares at him, her expression implying that was the dumbest argument she’s ever heard, which Michael knows, but wasn’t going to be admitting that either.
“What,” Michael exclaims, shrugging his shoulders.
“I just,” she shakes her head in disbelief, “can’t be doing this? What, dating? Having guys over for movie nights and stuff? Having fun?”
“Yes, dating and having guys over for movie nights and stuff and having fun,” Michael clarifies matter of fact.
“You literally bring girls home all the time?” Y/N calls out. “What’s the difference? Plus, Brock is really chill and nice,” she explains.
“Brock? Really?” Michael crosses his arms over his chest and raises his eyes. “He’s just using you.”
Y/N drops her jaw, offended. “Using me? For what?”
“You know exactly what,” Michael drops his arms and gestures an arm out. “You’re not stupid, you know all he wants is one thing and that is all he is trying to get from you. And once he gets it, he’ll be done with you.”
“First of all, you don’t know anything about Brock. Second, you do the exact same shit to girls. All the time,” she emphasizes. “You bring them over here, without my ‘permission’, and you ‘hardly know them,’” she mocks.
“It’s consensual,” Michael steps forward. “Before I bring them home, they know it’s just a hook-up, a one time thing. But that’s besides the point,” he waves off. “You deserve better than some guy who’s just trying to use you for a one quick fuck.”
“Who are you, my dad?” She shakes her head dumbfounded. “I can make my own decisions, Michael.”
“I don’t want your first time having sex to be with some loser asshole who doesn’t care about you,” Michael states quite genuinely, because Michael is sincere about that and obviously cares for her, but is also indirectly possessive and doesn’t want her to be with anyone else either.
“Um, hold on a second, my first time?” Y/N raises her eyes. “I’ve had, you know, sex before,” she says as confidently as she can.
Michael laughs out, crossing his arms again over her response and the way she spoke it, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I wanted to let you have your moment, but I just couldn’t hold it in.”
“I’ve done it,” Y/N says a bit shyly as her face heats up with embarrassment and annoyance.
“No you haven’t,” Michael grins. “Trust me, I know. Your response alone would have told me that too, but I just know you.”
“Wha -- I,” She trails off, her jaw dropping a bit, trying to think of something to say and to put Michael in his place in some way, even though she knows he’s right.
Michael raises his eyes, smirking, knowing the truth about her.
Y/N breathes out frustrated and a bit embarrassed still. “Fine. Whatever. Fuck you.”
Michael bites his tongue, holding back the urge to make her words a reality. He’s been waiting for a moment between them to happen for forever it seems now. But he’s always been unsure of when to make the move, always being worried and afraid of being rejected and to ruin their friendship in any way, of course being unaware of her feeling the same way back.
“You’re just mad because you know I’m right -- about everything,” Michael says.
“You’re so fucking annoying,” she scoffs. “Is this how it’s always going to be? Whenever I date a guy now and bring him over or anything, I have to get your ‘permission’ and check in with you? I mean, you’re not my fucking dad or brother or something.”
“I’m your best friend, and roommate,” Michael states, as if that has any power in the situation.
“Who’s currently pissing me off,” Y/N states harshly.
“I would just rather you wait to date a guy that’s actually nice and cares for you and treats you well and won’t use you for sex,” Michael says.
“That’s not your choice,” Y/N states confidently. “You may be my best friend, but you don’t know everything about me. How do you know I don’t want to just hurry up and have sex and get it over with?”
Michael narrows his eyes, surprised to hear her say something like that considering he knows the kind of person she is, thus leaving him momentarily confused.
“Maybe I don’t think it’s that big of a deal so I’m just trying to live my life. Or, maybe Brock really does care about me and it’s headed somewhere good. We both know you know nothing about him since you kicked him out so fast,” she speaks aggravated.
“I know how you think, Y/N. I know how you work,” Michael raises his head arrogantly. “You just have a half ass crush on that guy because he’s putting in all this effort and seems really great, but actually he’s just trying to fuck you one time and then move on to the next girl. And then, you’ll be left heartbroken.”
“Trust me, you really don’t know how I work, because I’m not dating him for that reason at all,” Y/N crosses her arms.
Michael gives a confused expression, more confused than he was just seconds ago.
Y/N just rolls her eyes. “Whatever. He’s gone, it’s done, and I’m done with this conversation now,” she says as she drops her arms and walks past Michael to go to her room for the evening. She’s too irritated and frustrated with Michael to continue speaking to him any further about Brock, sex, his annoying behavior this evening, or any of the events of tonight.
So she walks into her room, ready for this night to end and to think about what she’s going to do about her feelings of Michael since going out with Brock is now a total bust.
She pushes her bedroom door behind her as she steps in, allowing the door to close on it’s own. But her bedroom door slams shut a second later instead, drawing her attention as the shut was too harsh for it to be have been done by her.
Y/N narrows her eyes when she sees Michael standing in her room, clearly being the one to have slammed the door behind her and him now, too. She crosses her arms as she faces him, eyeing him bemused but still irritated from everything.
“I said I was done with the conversation. Don’t you dare try to--”
Michael strides over to Y/N assertively as she speaks, grabbing her waist and pulling her into him, causing her arms to drop as she presses her palms to Michael’s chest and he crashes his lips against Y/N’s, halting her words.
Shock and complete confusion muddles Y/N’s mind as she finds the moment to be too good to be true, her heart racing a million miles a minute. A breath-taking euphoria overtakes her, her not wanting this moment to ever end as Michael has just taken control of this situation and kissed her.
Y/N’s so immersed in the feeling of Michael’s lips against hers; his hands and arms wrapping around her securely, it feeling like he will never let her go; that she doesn’t process the next moment when she and Michael are stumbling back to her bed and falling over onto the soft mattress.
“You confuse the absolute fuck out of me,” Michael breathes out, almost hissing, once he pulls away from Y/N, kneeling up over her as she watches him pull his black t-shirt off and throw it to the side, exposing his fit torso. His bun is a bit messy now with all of the sudden actions, a few strands of his hair falling around his face like earlier when her mind had wandered off to him, looking unbelievably enticing.
“One day, you’re giggling like some innocent school girl over that idiot asshole, and now, you’re implying that you were dating Brock just to fuck?” He glares. “To get that shit over with?” Michael leans in, colliding his lips with Y/N’s again as a hand clasps against her cheek, hardly giving her any time to react.
Y/N moans lightly against Michael’s mouth when he bites down on her bottom lip, pulling back lightly, a hand of his gripping around her throat firmly.
“If anyone is going to fuck you, it’s going to be me,” Michael practically seethes against her lips, causing a shiver to run through Y/N’s core from the husky and possessive nature of Michael’s words.
Michael’s other hand roams down Y/N, feeling along her body before pushing the fabric of her dress up and allowing his fingers to brush and rub against her through her underwear, already feeling the wetness that’s beginning to gather at her center, causing her breath to hitch all together as she feels his touch against her.
“And from the feel of it, it seems like you agree,” Michael speaks cockily with a devilish smirk, kissing her again before Y/N can say anything, feeling like her skin is on fire, knowing she’s in for a night of a lifetime.
~
A/N: Let me know what you think! Any and all feedback is much appreciated! <3
#Michael Langdon#AHS#American Horror Story#Michael Langdon imagine#Michael Langdon writing#Michael Langdon fan fic#Michael Langdon au#michael langdon fanfiction#Michael Langdon one shot#Michael Langdon story#Michael Langdon oneshot#Michael Langdon x reader#michael langdon x fem! reader#Michael Langdon x fem reader#AHS imagine#Duncan Shepherd#Duncan Shepherd imagine#Xavier plympton#Xavier Plympton imagine#Michael Langdon fanfic
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This Feeling - Thomas
//Requested by rycbar-221b: heyyy! can i request a thomas (tmr) x reader fluff, where tommy and r were in love before the maze, and they meet again in the scorch and reader has a bunch of scars? so tommy asks what they were for and r reveals that jensen (aka ratface) tortured her after tommy’s betrayal bc they were in love, and lots of fluff anf angst and kisses plz thankyou//
//Tags: @rycbar-221b @writingsbychlo (bc i’ve decided to tag you in anything tommy that i post) // Warnings: Angst, brief language, alludes to violence, mentions and slight description of scars. Also, I did not edit this so please be nice//
Pairing: Thomas x Reader
Word Count: 2,800
Summary: She remembers, he doesn’t. When her story is too familiar to ignore, it’s hard for Thomas to place “This Feeling”. But something is different now. She’s different now.
He slammed his fist against the table, causing you to flinch. You clenched your fists, leaning your head against them for a moment before sitting tall and stretching your fingers. You stared down Janson, refusing to break first. You folded your hands neatly on the table, tilting your head slightly with a sly smirk climbing to your face.
“Did you really think I’d tell you anything?” You laughed. “What makes you think I knew anything about this?”
“You and Thomas were extremely close…” Janson said tensely. He quickly rubbed his mouth in frustration, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. “If you have nothing to say, maybe we need to jog your memory.”
“Do what you want.” You shrugged defiantly. “I don’t know anything.”
“We’ll see about that.” He said with finality.
As he stood, two guards came in and hauled you from your seat. They led you down hallway after hallway, down three sets of stairs to a level of the Compound you didn’t know existed. You were pushed into a dark room, pushed so suddenly you fell to your knees. A clattering came from beside you, and looking over you saw a long spear had been thrown at you.
The ground was slick with a thick substance, too thick to be water. Your feet slid as you stood. There was a faint blinking red light coming from the other side, the creek of a door opening. Suddenly, the room was full of a squelching sound mixed with the scrape of metal against concrete. There were screams, hollow monstrous noises that echoed. Quickly, you grabbed the spear and gripped it tightly. You weren’t prepared for what happened next.
“Y/N?” Harriet asked, shaking you gently. You jumped slightly, your head snapping up to see your friend. “You alright?”
“Yeah.” You nodded carefully, running your hand through your hair. “All good.”
“Found something you might wanna see.” She smiled mischievously as she led you out the building you and the rest of your friends had been camped out in. Most of your group stayed behind, feeling safe at WICKED’s compound. You saw through WICKED the moment you saw Janson.
You managed to break yourself out along with Harriet, Sonya, Aris, and a few others. Your group was small, which made it easier to hide. You found a building that was seemingly halted mid-construction, the tarps providing easy cover for you.
You came face to face with a group of about ten boys. Some were familiar, you had seen them at the Compound before you escaped with your friends. You scanned their faces, trying to remember names.
“WICKED?” You questioned simply.
“Group A.” Harriet replied with lifted brows.
“Ah.” You nodded, stepping closer to examine the boys. “Group A, huh? You don’t seem like a first group.”
“First the worst, second the best, maybe?” Harriet offered from behind you.
You laughed slightly before getting their attention.
“So which one of you are in charge?” You asked, nodding towards them. They looked between each other, seemingly having no chain of command. You stared with raised brows, waiting for an answer. “Do you speak English or…”
“Yeah, yeah sorry.” The brunette in front laughed nervously. You felt your heart slamming in your chest when he spoke. “I guess I’m in charge.”
“Alright.” You swallowed hard. “You got a name?”
“Thomas.”
“Thomas?” You questioned. “Do you, by any chance, remember anything before the Maze?”
You knew it wasn’t the question to ask right off the bat. Once it left your mouth, you instantly regretted it. But you had to know if there was a chance that he knew, a chance that your connection was strong enough.
“Things are coming back slowly but no, not really.” He studied your face as you stared at him. He watched your eyes shift from curiosity to disappointment. He could tell you were hoping to hear something else but he didn’t know what you were looking for. “Do you?”
“We’ll get to that later.” You waved a hand dismissively. “You boys can head inside. There’s not many of us but you’re more than welcome to stay.”
“Thanks.” Thomas offered a small but honest smile.
As the boys filed in, Harriet pulled you to the side.
“That’s him, isn’t it?” She asked anxiously. “The one that you told us about?”
“Yeah, that’s him.” You shrugged. “Once he looked at me, I- I felt something, something I haven’t felt since I lost him… But it’s pointless if he doesn’t remember.”
“He will.” She comforted you. “Just give him a little time.”
“You’ve looked better, Y/N.” Janson said smugly from the other side of the table.
You glared at him, not offering any words. You felt your blood boiling in your veins, your muscles itching to act. Your jaw was tightly clenched, enough to give you a small headache. Your breathing was heavy, your anger hard to contain. But you bit back your cruel words.
“I have to say I am a bit surprised you made it.” Janson continued when you refused to speak. “Any recollection of why Thomas released classified files?”
“We all got expectations…” You said carefully. “Sometimes they go wrong. I have no information for you, Rat Man. Same as two days ago.”
“Hmm.” He sucked his teeth obnoxiously. “Fine. Let’s see how well you do in a second round.”
You stood suddenly, leaning onto the table. Your palms were flat against the cool metal, arms locked as you faced Janson. “If you really think whatever monster you have cooking down there will kill me, you’re gonna have to do better than that slime ball with the metal legs.”
“We can do much better, Y/N.” He threatened.
“You think that a scar on my face is going to break me?” You laughed slightly. A result from your fight was a long gash from your hairline to your chin, cutting through your left eyebrow and skipping over your eye. It picked up on your cheekbone and was a straight shot down. Every word from your mouth felt like it was reopening the fresh would, but you had a point to make. “In the end, it’s my decision. So it’s my fault when it ends.”
You woke that night in a cold sweat. Your hands were shaking, old scars pulsing. You let out a sigh, throwing your arm over your eyes. Sleep was harder to find, especially in the Scorch. It never felt safe, but you knew your friends were doing better than you. You were more concerned about them than yourself, so you kept your struggles to yourself.
You headed for the open space at the other side of the room. You didn’t know if it was supposed to be a window, or if it was just broken down when the world collapsed. You didn’t necessarily care either.
When you got there, one of the boys was already sitting near it. You sat opposite of him, offering a small smile in greeting.
“Need some company?” You said, leaning on the wall beside the opening.
He chuckled slightly. “Couldn’t sleep either?”
“I don’t know the last time I slept through the night, honestly.” You shrugged. “Different nightmare every night, always comes back to the same thing.”
“Need to talk about it?” He offered gently.
“You actually wanna listen?”
“I’d like to know your name first but yeah, I’ll listen.”
“Before the Mazes, there was this boy…” You started carefully. You decided to leave out the part about the boy being Thomas simply for the fact that he didn’t seem to recognize you. “He did something crazy that WICKED didn’t like, so they sent him off. They took their anger out on me and it kinda haunts me. I guess...”
“How bad was it?”
Thomas realized then who you were. He didn’t know if it was your story or your voice that triggered it for him, but something about you felt right. You were Y/N, the motivation for him to leave the Maze. The appeal of running into the Scorch. The deep, empty feeling in his chest when he was in the Maze. You were the name on the tip of his tongue, begging to be said out loud. You were the memory that danced on the edge of his mind, waiting for him to reach out and reclaim. And now you were sitting in front of him, admitting all your pain. Pain he put you through.
“Pretty bad.” You nodded slowly. “It was enough for WICKED to keep me in the Compound instead of sending me in.”
“You never went into a Maze?”
“Nah.” You shook your head. “Never had my memory wiped either. I remember everything about life before this.”
“That’s heavy.” He said sadly. “Is that how you got-” He gestured to his own face, mimicking the deep scar on your own. “That was probably not the right thing to say, sorry.”
“All your boys are curious, aren’t they?” You chuckled.
“Some more than others.”
“I’ll tell you a story before it tells itself.” You scooted closer to him, letting the moonlight illuminate your features. Thomas had forgotten how beautiful you were, and the hazy figure in his dreams didn’t do you justice. “WICKED needed someone to test their monsters. What did you guys call the creatures in the Maze?”
“Grievers.” Thomas said quietly. He was still trying to process the scars on your body, the permanent reminder of what WICKED did to you.
“I called them Skitters.” You continued. “Anyways, WICKED wanted them to be potentially deadly without being murderous, I guess. I never really understood why they needed them. But I guess they needed them to be able to fight and not just attack. Especially when you started to figure out the Maze.”
“You fought Grievers?” He asked in awe. “And you survived?”
“WICKED couldn’t let their favorite test dummy die so easily.” You laughed bleakly. When you saw the concerned expression Thomas wore, you had to quickly redirect the conversation. “So, Thomas. What was it like in your Maze?”
“Y/N, I- I’m sorry.” He said honestly, his eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head.
“Thomas?” You said to get his attention. He looked up quickly, apologetic eyes finding yours. “I never told you my name.”
“Yeah, you did.” He countered. “You said it…” He tried to remember, but he then realized you never did tell him. “Huh, guess not.” He smiled nervously.
“You know me, don’t you?” You pressed, inching forward.
“If I had known they were going to do that to you, I-”
“You couldn’t have.” You shook your head, planting yourself by his feet. “I didn’t even know they were going to do that. Once they shipped you off, they sent me into that fight within an hour. They told me think with my head, not that thing in my chest. They just wanted me to sell you out, to tell them the extent of what you did.”
“I don’t know what I did.”
“Nothing WICKED didn’t deserve.” You shrugged. “T, listen.”
“T?”
“Thomas.” You corrected yourself. “Everything that happened after you left- this -” You gestured to your face. “-had nothing to do with you. This was WICKED getting back at me because I cared about you. And if they couldn’t punish you, they’d punish me.”
“My point, Y/N, is that they never should’ve put hands on you.”
“Technically, they didn’t.” You said with a devilish smirk as an idea came to you. “But you can.”
Thomas chuckled, placing hands on your hips so he could pull you closer. You swung your leg over his lap, moving to straddle him. Your hands slid up his chest slowly before finding their way into his hair. Thomas closed his eyes and hummed in delight at your gentle, purposeful touch.
He didn’t even realize what he was missing without you. He didn’t realize how relaxing your touch was, how sweet your voice was. He had forgotten how truly beautiful you were, from every angle. Thomas was quick to decide his favorite angle was when you were on top of him.
He leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours gently. You smiled against his lips, loving the contact you missed from him. His grip on your hips tightened slightly as he pulled you against him. Your fingers tugged gently on his hair, drawing a small groan from him. You chuckled slightly as his hands found their way up your shirt.
Thomas quickly jumped away, pulling his hands back after his fingers ghosted the deep circular scar on the center of your stomach. You stared in confusion, your feelings slightly hurt that he would pull away so suddenly. When you saw where his eyes were focused, you understood why he pulled away the way he did.
“You feel bad for me, don’t you?” You realized, your voice flattening. “Hold on to your opinions and stand by what you said.”
You knew what they had done to you was terrible and you hated WICKED for it. But the one thing you hated more than WICKED was pity. When Group B arrived at the Compound, a couple weeks after Thomas entered his Maze, you were littered with cuts and bruises you couldn’t hide. You didn’t want to hide your injuries, because you weren’t ashamed of them. You always understood that they were purposeful, that you had fought and survived.
“I feel guilty, Y/N/N.” He sighed, casually using the nickname he had always used with you.
“Get up.” You said plainly, standing and heading outside. You heard the scuffling of Thomas following. You turned to face him once you were outside, pausing to admire him in the moonlight. “Why do you think I brought you out here?”
He shrugged slightly, his mouth open but failing to produce any sound.
“I brought you out here so you could actually see what happened to me.” You said simply. You pulled your shirt over your head, holding the fabric between tightly balled fists.
“Holy shit.” He sighed.
“Look at me, Thomas.” You said firmly when he tilted his eyes to the nightsky. “Look at me.”
“What do you want me to say, Y/N?” He snapped, throwing his hands forward dramatically. “You don’t want me to apologize. You don’t want me to feel bad for you. What do you want from me?”
“I want you to look.” You stood firm until his eyes finally met yours. “I am covered in scars and bruises. You felt this one-” You pointed to your stomach. “-and you bailed. Why?”
“I wasn’t expecting it.” He tried to explain.
“I was stung.” You began explaining. “WICKED knew they had to up the ante with the serum, but they needed to see the effects before they could send it in. Once they cut my face and I didn’t give them any info, they wanted to break my mind.”
“Y/N, I-”
“No, this is the part where you listen.” You said firmly. “Alright? You don’t need to explain anything or try to come to terms with what happened to me. This is my story.”
“Then what is it about?” He cut in. “You just said that they did this to you because of what I did. But I don’t even know what I did! I don’t know how hurting you was supposed to be some sort of punishment for me!”
“This was a punishment for you, you moron.” You rolled your eyes.
“How does hurting you-”
“Because obviously seeing me like this hurts you!” You interjected. “God, Thomas, how are you so oblivious? WICKED didn’t do this because they wanted to leave me scarred and fucked up. I mean, they probably did, but the main point was that you’d eventually have to see me like this. You’d see it and blame yourself.”
Thomas stopped, pausing to digest your words. He realized that you were right. WICKED knew him better than he knew himself. WICKED knew Thomas would see your scars, feel your scars, and blame himself. WICKED wanted to hurt Thomas by guilt, by forcing him to look at the pain they caused you. He could tell that the scars didn’t bother you, not anymore at least. Maybe they did at some point, but that was long gone. Now, Thomas could tell that you saw your scars as a personal victory. WICKED wanted to break you, but they didn’t.
“Guess you won after all, huh?” Thomas offered a lopsided smirk, closing the distance between you. His hand landed on your hip and pulled you against him.
“You’re the one that I want.” You said calmly, any anger or annoyance you felt had melted when he flashed that smirk. “And if that’s really so wrong…”
“Then they don’t know what this feeling is like.”
#thomas tmr#thomas imagine#thomas tst#thomas tdc#maze runner#scorch trials#death cure#tmr#tst#tdc#maze runner imagine#thomas fanfic#thomas maze runner#thomas fic#thomas#tmr fanfic#maze runner fanfic#scorch trials fanfic#beaconfalls x tmr#thomas x reader#thomas x you#thomas x yn#thomas x y/n
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Hi! If you’re up for it, I want to hear your takes about season two Klaus. All your TUA takes have been amazing food for thought and I saw you said something about season two sucking (sorry tag stalking). I’m intrigued, have my own laundry list of problems with s. 2 and would love to compare notes if you’re interested. Thanks for putting Klaus gif sets on my dash again!
You read my mind, I was just batting around the idea of a rant! (Especially as I flunked a test yesterday, so I’m in the mood for distraction.) So thanks 💌 And share your own ideas away, please, I love discussion.
*cracks knuckles*
So, my issues with S2!Klaus (and how ultimately those issues were reflected by the writing etc. of all the characters)
* Lack of time - So, comparing, Klaus has approximately 2 hours of screentime in S1 (counting in scenes with the ensemble in which he may not be central, but is present) and approx. 1 hr 25 mins in S2. (I haven’t compared screentime for each sibling, although Ben’s would necessarily mesh with a lot of Klaus’. If anyone else does, shout, I’d be interested to see the numbers!) We also know from cast interviews/social media etc. that alternate material was cut/edited for a particular approach.
So, necessarily, you’re going to have less time to get across your arc for your character. Luckily, no one really has one here, with almost every advancement being reset in preparation for S3 and presumably yet another fresh start.
We learn little about Klaus that we didn’t already know (deals with conflict by substance abuse, motivated largely by love for Dave) and he’s not involved in much of the plot for whatever reason (the Swedes don’t pursue him, despite him being presumaby famous); so his main purpose here is comic relief. (And it turns out...Umbrella Academy is not super-hot on writing humour, if the 18305 fart jokes didn’t clue anyone in. I was not surprised to learn they retained none of the S1 writers, as there was an appreciably different approach this season that didn not work for me.)
-> Overarching issue: Huge chunks of the siblings character development was mainly offscreen or described in reams of exposition (which definitely happened in S1, but one would expect better writing by a second season.) I get that it’s necessary in a time travel plot in the style they chose to write (e.g. the siblings scattering across different years) but it’s pretty glaring. There’s also a quantity of filler for stuff that wasn’t really necessary (the Handler, the Swedes, Pogo/Reginald/Grace storyline) and is a shame when there was less interaction between all combinations of the siblings, and Ben was still undercharacterised.
* Lack of ghosts - If you take away the powers which brought the kids into Reginald’s sphere, and in Klaus’ case were presented in S1 as a power that’s uniquely awful and difficult to overcome (even drugs and alcohol only seemed to give him respite for a short time – we see he dreams about ghosts and starts to see them after only a few hours) without a reason (I’d give the latter half of S1 the benefit of the doubt and say with the impending apocalypse, we can assume all we need to about offscreen withdrawal etc. from what we saw in 1.6 and 1.7 and just chalk up no extra ghosts to distraction on Klaus’ behalf and the effort summoning Ben; but in S2, not so much.) you’ve basically just…halved your character.
It almost suggests that Reginald’s view is correct, Klaus can apparently control his power and overcome the ghosts (as well as easily master his addiction, also offscreen) and the only reason he struggles is because of his own cowardice/narcissism/selfishness (not wanting to save Vanya/starting a cult/not wanting to ‘share Ben’ as I believe Steve Blackman put it.) Which isn’t to say Klaus, like all the sibs isn’t massively flawed; it’s just the ways in which he’s flawed are either a departure from previous canon or else…well, I’ll go into that in the cult discussion.
-> Overarching issue: lack of powers. I was going to compare this to a sibling, like if you’d just started S2 where Five no longer time travels and just never mentioned it, ever; but actually, I think almost all the characters’ powers and the effect they bring to their lives was fairly underused.
Allison is about the only one who does anything interesting, in that she seems to fall off the wagon herself in terms of trying not to use her powers (and the promise they may deal with this eventually instead of pairing her up endlessly is one of the few reasons for me to tune in to S3.)
Vanya’s character development and her inability to control her emotions is essentially divorced from her S1 incarnation with the memory loss dominating most of the season.
Luther they backed and forthed about in S1 in terms of presenting him as damaged; actively benefitting and winning approval for his strength; and as comedic; which I think was doubled down on here (his yelling ‘Look what you did to me!’ to Reginald being accompanied by the reaction shots of the others eyerolling/spit-taking; jaunty musical cues; and ‘Check please!’ punch line.)
Five, like Luther and Diego, seemed significantly dumber in a way that really only made sense as a contrivance (aka, Five needed to never once have considered using his gift to move across smaller amounts of time so he’d Suddenly Realise in the finale; and he needed to not realise that meeting their father would…get this, affect what their father might do and therefore their own lives so that we can get the ‘Oh shit!’ ending.)
The beginning montage of S2.1 seemed pointless – like, I get that you introduce elements every season in preparation for the next, I’m not media illiterate; but I feel like it’s not too much to ask that when you present something in the very first episode of 10 that you refer back to why it was included.
Why did everyone have an expert handling on their powers here, and work together, and why was it more satisfying than the actual finale?
Why did only Diego and Vanya realise their own power potential at the end of the tenth episode, apropros of nothing?
Is it on purpose that Allison is always contrivedly damselled since she could actually have some impact on the plot?
Why not include Lila mirroring Klaus’ power, what with her being a killer with presumably a few ghosts around her?
Lack of addiction – Why was Klaus clean? We see him ready to revert to old habits in stressful moments close to the end of S1, and yet here he seems to have overcome his addiction as portrayed by…a half-second shot of him refusing a joint, and yet more exposition from poor Ben. (We can assume it’s easier for him to quit since he’s not avoiding constantly ghostly visitations, but since we also have no reason for that presented in-show, we’re sort of going in circles.)
Is he sober for Dave? We don’t really delve into his realisation that Dave’s death can be avoided, and he doesn’t show any indications of having considered the issue at all over the three years of being in the sixties. (I’ve seen the headcanon that he’s staying sober in case his siblings are dead, and I think it’s lovely, but also that it’s giving way too much credit to the writing this season. Remember we see the very concept that the whole family have died presented as comical in the first episode – ‘They’re all gone! Poof! Like a fart in the wind!’ complete with humourous whimpering expression.)
Neither does he maintain his sobriety even temporarily in order to communicate with Dave prior to realising/believing his actions have come to nothing.
All totally believable, the guy’s an addict (although I do feel the comedic approach does weaken the believability of this link to Dave somewhat – I feel like Klaus, like his brothers this season, is portrayed here as going beyond their previous incarnations as thoughtless/spacy/self-involved etc. into actively stupid, and stuff like him only thinking to approach Dave twice – with years to prepare! – and not even remembering Dave’s uncle’s name correctly qualifies more as the latter than the former.) but it does then just create more questions as to how easily he quit offscreen, and suggests a plot written backwards from what they wanted the end result to be, rather than what that arose organically.
(I also think that there’s very little difference in the writing for him from sobriety to addiction, in terms of set pieces, dialogue, acting etc and I’d be interested to hear about the direction of the scenes prior to that; because I’m never quite convinced with UA that they have much to say on addiction or substance abuse beyond ‘Spacy hippy = amusing.’)
-> Overarching issue: Events having a lack of impact on the story – What was the point of the cult plotline? We learn very little about Klaus (to the point where 90% of the whole thing is just regurgitated pop culture references) – apparently he’s narcissistic (we know this because like everything in this season, we’re told it, repeatedly, just like: ‘Luther is sensitive.’ ‘Diego has a hero complex and daddy issues.’) but then, include scenes of him enjoying the adulation!
Here they’re basically using the same template for Allison in S1, where she’s manufactured a life of celebrity for herself but grown tired of it before we even meet her.
Ben gets to deliver yet more unconvincing exposition about how they left Real Lives, it’s very much not backed up by the writing - we get no sense of the cult members as real people (beyond Life of Brian jokes about how sheeplike they are) or that we’re intended to see their interactions with the group as anything but comedy relief. This post touches on how if you take the plot in any way seriously, it doesn’t work.
Likewise, none of the siblings actions really made much of an impact on the story. Luther working for Jack Ruby went nowhere; Vanya and Allison’s families conveniently stayed behind in the sixties; the JFK obsession was a bust; the Swedes are pointless. Like, if you’re going to give each person an individual subplot rather than have characters interact and actually establish links between them that enable an audience to emotionally engage; then have it serve either individual development or the overarching story.
* Dave – Who is Dave? We’ve gone from informed attributes from Klaus and, what, 2 minutes of screentime in which he had maybe three lines to…he likes hamburgers! I get that he’s a character who will probably return, but I’m still not sure why we’re supposed to invest in him when the show has done almost no groundwork over two seasons in establishing who he is. Compare this to Sissy or Raymond, who were far more fleshed out in less time. (I’ll also throw S2 a bone and say Patch in S1 also fell victim to undercharacterisation that was then supposed to make a big impact on a lead.)
The younger version seemed contrived in order to string out storyline for longer without resolution, as it made no sense with previous casting, but I’d guess, gives Klaus a reason to do nothing until there’s like, a week before Dave signing up for ‘Nam (as presumably if Dave was the grown adult we saw a mere five years on, there’d be no barriers to them just…dating in the sixties. We need manufactured conflict!) although I still think, idk, get this! – you could link your plots here. (Got a cult spanning continents and with pull with local government, and not only does this not link into Allison’s subplot beyond Ben busting out Ray; but you’d think maybe the cult might, I don’t know…protest the war that’s going on? The one that’s going to kill Dave?)
-> Overarching issue: More importantly, who is Ben?
Instead of brothers bickering endlessly (and flatly – Justin Min is funny! So’s Robert Sheehan! Could they have some dialogue that doesn’t sound like irritating eleven year olds: ‘Idiot.’ ‘Really?’ ‘Have you showered?’ ‘I hate your face.’), wouldn’t it be awesome if we found out more about who Ben is, and his situation?
We know he can disappear– is that some kind of freedom for him from Klaus, or does he just go…nowhere? (Steve Blackman iirc said Ben is always with Klaus, but then stuff like him not knowing about Klaus sleeping with Jill, or Klaus saying he’s shy about Ben seeing him fully nude doesn’t mesh with that. We know they can separate to a certain extent, as we see him on the lower level of the cult’s bus while Klaus rides up top.) It seems probable he can interact with other ghosts, although we don’t really see much of this.
Is this is his first experience time travelling - we still don’t know if he was in Vietnam, and his S1 POV of Dave seemed like he’d personally met him, but in S2, he’s describing the whole thing far less emotively as a ‘fling’.)?
Is this an insight into how Ben, like his siblings, was damaged by his upbringing by Reginald into viewing emotions as something to personally exploit (aka when he wants Klaus to sober up, he’ll use Dave as a reason to, but when he believes Dave risks his brother’s peace of mind, he’ll dismiss the relationship?) Or is Ben the sole Good One?
Could we see a reaction from him at the concept of all his siblings being considered dead? Or some interaction with them? (Or some reaction to his death, because basically, Reginald coopts his funeral to rag on the siblings, who then tear each other apart; but what do we learn about Ben himself? Uh...died on a mission?) Wouldn’t having him vocalise this actually deepen him and his character and create sympathy as opposed to vomit gags and sex swings? Could the other siblings show some kind of normal curiosity for once, developing them also; considering Klaus literally says ‘I’m Ben’ and ‘(I’m) possessed’; and Five sees Ben in the alternate 1963?
I didn’t get the vibe Ben ever became a character independent of Klaus.
Steve Blackman seems to have a view of him that’s kind of flatly generic, where upon he’s the innately best one, with a moral wisdom the others lack; which irritates me not only because it’s not really consistent with what we see onscreen – like, in Vanya’s hallucination, we see Ben as the only one to speak up for her, but in S1 we see that Ben is as quick to exclude Vanya as any one else – but it also undercuts Reginald’s abuse by making Ben immune to his abuse in a way the others aren’t. Ben deserves to be complicated and flawed too, and while I think we see his flaws onscreen, they’re not acknowledged like the others are, so it’s hard to say if the writers were going for ‘Ben was treated like an object all his life so he treats others the same’ or ‘lulz, bodily autonomy and consent aren’t a thing.’
I feel like we already knew from S1 that Klaus felt guilt over Ben’s death but was also happy to use Ben as a mouthpiece while ignoring his actual opinions; and that Ben cared about Klaus but was bitter and envious Klaus was alive while he wasn’t.
The ‘light’ thing I think was introduced too late for something that retroactively alters their entire relationship. (Not to mention Klaus’ power) and makes them both far more manipulative and mutually abusive than I think the show intended.
My first thought as a comparison was ‘What Happened to Baby Jane?’, tbh, like if you analyse it on any kind of literal level, Klaus basically prevents Ben from going to heaven in order to be his constant companion, and despite the tacked on ‘Oh, I always thought that was my fault!’ acts as if the opposite were true throughout the rest of the show’s run. And Ben, equally, allows his brother to take on the burden of believing that while knowing for 17 years that it was his own decision not to go on.
* Interactions with Family - I missed Diego and Klaus interacting (I felt like they leaned way into the less interesting side of Diego – wannabe Batman with daddy issues; and further away from his more nurturing/feminine side that appeared most with Klaus and Grace. I don’t buy S1!Diego would be like ‘ah well, overdose on the floor, then’ or that the writers understand that lines like that reflect on his characterisation as much as the sibling in question’s.) Luther and he didn’t really have an individual exchange like in S1, and kind of wavered between nice moments like Luther using his size to protect Allison and Klaus; and ‘lololol, Luther’s dragging him by the foot.’ Five and Klaus interacted far less (I literally sat trying to think of any S2 moments. ‘Pukebag?’) It was good to see Vanya and Klaus exchange more words than S1, so there’s an upgrade. And about one of the sole things I did enjoy in S2 was the Klaus and Allison interactions.
-> Overarching issue: There was way less interaction between characters generally. Halfway through the season is ridiculously late to reunite your main cast. The cast talked about how the Diego/Allison interaction was adlibbed by Emmy, and while she’s a queen, your cast should absolutely not have to be adlibbing stuff like ‘two siblings acknowledge each other’s existence’.
(I noticed this seemed to be a trend, also, like all the actors talked about the consideration they’d put into their roles – Tom Hopper talking about how Luther was seeking an alternate father figure in Jack Ruby and working for the first time in his life; Emmy talking about how Allison’s privilege within the Umbrella Academy and then as a celebrity blinded her to racial prejudice; David Castaneda talking about how Patch’s death affected Diego in S2 – when it seemed like they’d made far more effort than the writers themselves.)
Characters barely looked for each other, and had little reaction to the mutual assumption they’d all died. No one told each other anything, even stuff that might be helpful (’Guys, there’s these Swedish assassins trying to murder me!’) All stuff that was in S1, it’s just weird to see comments saying ‘Aw, everyone bonded much more in this season!’ when if anything, it felt even more contrived. I didn’t get the impression anyone cared about anyone more than the writers cared about joke potential – one episode, Allison is grimacing maternally and covering her brother with a blanket; next her reaction to what she herself assumes is ‘a seizure’ is not to move from her chair. A bunch of the Five vs Five plotline other than gas is whether or not one of them can talk Luther into killing the other first. If one person reaches out to another, it’s almost verboten that other characters could do similiarly, so if Vanya’s reaching out to ask Diego if he’s okay; we know no one else will give a shit, etc.
I feel like the desire to present all the siblings as more entertaining-awful than actually damaged takes some of the complexity away. The removal of flashbacks of them as children compounded this, like it just seemed like the show was much more focused on mocking the characters for their issues/establishing Official Character Flaws that are generally softened in some way or else skipping over them entirely (could we put in the work into reestablishing Vanya into the fold when she and her siblings have damaged each other and spent years estranged, and she ended the season emotionally broken? Why, when we can introduce a hackneyed amnesia plot which completely erases any emotional impact?) and the predestination stuff with Reginald skated around almost excusing his abuse – what on earth was that scene in which Five apologises to him for how he behaved in childhood?!
Everyone fit more into boxes. Season 1 had conflicting attributes where sometimes Luther say is gentle, other times bullying and cruel. Klaus could be selfish and empathetic. Here it’s just throwing out scraps for stuff that seems memeable: lololol, Diego and Luther are himbo energy!1 Representation! Winks to the audience about incest! ‘I’m sexy trash!’ (It’s also bizarre when we see Klaus in S1 is suffering a far more immediate PTSD than three years on, and yet is swifter to intervene when his siblings are in need.) ‘It’s an awesome reference!’ (awful lines, ugh.)
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6-8 for Star Wars or the MCU?
Thanks!
6. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?
THANKFULLY enough, I’m far enough away from the worst of the MCU discourse that I don’t REALLY hear it. I will say that, generally speaking, some of the worst people I’ve ever personally interacted with have been Stucky shippers, but I put that down more to it having a HUGE AMOUNT of shippers, specifically that Specific Brand of slash shipper who is more obsessed with “PURE. SOFT. UWU. BOYS.” without focusing on anything of substance and regularly say shitty, biphobic things to other shippers and toss female characters under the bus. I don’t HATE the ship and of itself, it’s just not my particular poison. (I will take this time to remind anyone of the audience who has never heard it that one of my VERY FIRST slash ships was Frostiron. So that kind of sets the mood there.) I like their overall dynamic, I do like the chemistry, so it isn’t a total no-sell, just not something I’ll sell myself heart and soul to.
I feel like a ton of the sequel trilogy ships that became REALLY popular on Tumblr were ruined for me by the, frankly, disgusting way that Reylo shippers were treated. Like, you want to complain about how your ship isn’t getting enough attention? Fine, but THEN don’t blame Reylo shippers for it not getting attention WHEN YOU DID EVERYTHING TO EXCLUDE US FROM THE PARTY IN THE FIRST PLACE. Including putting “Reylo shippers DNI” on artwork of your ship. Like, if you do that, then I will do as you say and not interact with it. And probably block you for good measure. So that you don’t accidentally ever put yourself in the unfortunate position of interacting with a Disgusting Reylo.
I walked out of the first film willing to ship ANYTHING. F1nnrey, F1innpoe, Kylux, and, yes, Reylo. Hell, even Darkpilot. But then, as Fandom evolved, the Reylo shippers, as a group, became more and more insular. I saw this happen BEFORE MY OWN EYES. It became more about hating ONE SHIP than about liking....anything else. There couldn’t be a SINGLE POST about one of the others without a backhanded swipe about Reylo in there. (Also, can I just say, as a bisexual in fandom, the way that Reylo was referred to as a Straight Ship™ when...like....a decent proportion of the Reylo shippers that I personally interacted with were in fact bi was...The two of them knocking uglies while having different plumbing does NOT in fact make either the characters or the shippers straight.)
I still do like Darkpilot and Finnlo, though. Among others (the smaller, the more niche, the better). But my God if I don’t interact with the fandom as a whole, because like...I’ll just get kicked down.
7. Is there anything you used to like, but now can’t stand?
I liked Ragnarok alright, as far as the Thor movies were concerned. Not the BEST, but it was a fun ride, even if the continuity bugged me.
Then.....the fandom. The FANDOM. The ongoing potshots at the rest of the Thor franchise (talking about HOW GOOD IT WAS compared to the OTHER THOR FILMS, which the film ITSELF didn’t help by making empty jabs at them for....daring to actually show EMOTION instead of endless butt jokes?)
And ignoring the way that it shat on two films’ worth of development.
And took out a significant part of the prior cast (including, not one, but three female characters.)
And....
Yeah, there’s a reason I have every possible tag for it blacklisted at this point.
In Star Wars....it’s actually HARD for me to look at the sequel series now, after TROS. And this is something I’ve heard a lot of. There’s just this...empty feeling. Which is hard with something that’s basically a PART of you because you’ve been a fan of it for so long. Star Wars isn’t JUST a franchise, it’s Five Year Old Rachel sitting in front of a TV and watching a boy only a few years older than her compete in a pod racing tournament as her aunt says “That’s going to be Darth Vader” and it’s asking for The Return of the Jedi EVERY TIME because she loved the Ewoks SO MUCH, it’s having a small lightsaber collection when by the time she was 7-8. It’s going to Star Wars Day at Hollywood Studios and not being overly impressed by MUCH, but then getting to see the fireworks go off overhead to some of the best cinematic music ever composed by man and it being a moment of pure MAGIC. It’s...it’s something that’s threaded itself throughout my life for YEARS. And it’s gone. Or at least a huge part of it is. I don’t know if I’ll ever quite get it back. What TROS did.......it wasn’t JUST a bad storytelling decision. It wasn’t JUST me not being happy that my ship didn’t end up together (the ship thing.....honestly wasn’t even the biggest thing for me). It was a BETRAYAL. And a particularly deep one. And I’m not sure when, or if, I can ever love it like I used to.
8. Unpopular opinion about [insert fandom here]?
Hating the MCU isn’t a substitute for a personality, I’m sorry. I know you’re embarrassed that you liked in 2012, but please, please deal with that on your own time instead of making endless posts shitting on the MCU. I get it, it’s not as good as it used to be. For my part, I decided to bow out after Endgame. But people saying that it’s as bad as CORONAVIRUS is....
wow. Like, everyone copes in their own ways, but YOU ARE AWARE PEOPLE HAVE DIED, RIGHT?
I’m REALLY going to make some enemies here, but Hanleia has ALWAYS creeped me out. I do NOT like the way he treats her, I don’t like their first kiss, and honestly? I was kind of glad they broke up in the Sequel Trilogy because it felt more natural for me. (As much as....a lot of the Sequel Trilogy can be natural.) There was a really good Youtube video on Harrison Ford and playing predatory romance, and it really articulated a lot of my feelings on that particular ship. I feel like people....tend to make Han better than he was, which is the counterpart to Dudebros imprinting on him and making him worse than he was.
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hey so if you wanna hit me with that sweet sweet elijah’s characterization meta anytime please feel free. or direct me to any previous posts because my dumb ass is using this time to re-obsess over vampire melodrama.....
It appears that most of my non-tag and non-petty-casual commentary is still in drafts... so instead of finishing the ‘What the hell is wrong with season 4: an itemized list’ meta and finishing answering the ‘What would you change if you could rewrite any of the show?’ ask from a while ago, I’ll just pick out the Elijah bits and add on to them for garnish. (Those posts might exist at some point. But honestly not soon enough for me to worry about people getting annoyed with copy/paste so PREVIEW TIME: ELIJAH FLAVOR)
This is way sloppier and un-cited than I usually meta, by the way, but what the hell, The Fandom is Dead and I Only Have Friends to Entertain Now, so if anyone gets angry and tries to step into my asks then it’ll just be nostalgic rather than annoying. Here’s the starter, which is from the F*CK YOU SEASON 4 meta and quite a few of these points will be repeated later because you asked for it technically so.
The cracks in the narrative began to show as early as season two, and believe me when I say I’m not saying this because I love him - it began with Elijah. I can make a lot of arguments to this effect, but the only one that I am certain is not propelled by my very strong bias concerns the presentation of the Red Door.
Initially, I was ecstatic at the opportunity to explore Elijah’s past, his perspective, his darkest moments. I was a bit wary in that it seemed as though the narrative wanted to Explain Everything about Elijah through this device, but he was finally getting some attention so I tried to hold back judgement.The result was pretty promising. One of the most gorgeous moments on the show occurs when Klaus enters Elijah’s mind and tells him how much he needs him. It showcases the main pillar of the show - the structural trifecta of Hope, Klaus, and Elijah. And afterwards, as usual, Elijah pushes the experience away.Until it’s convenient.
Elijah begins to be erratically vicious. At first, I felt as though it wasn’t handled poorly, I could explain away my worries easily, and that was all I needed. But it happens over, and over, and over again, with the same excuse - protecting the family, protecting Hope. Elijah’s triggers, once so crucial, begin to break down, but we don’t see why or how that process occurs. He begins to be the character that is level-headed when it is convenient, and a violent one-track-mind when it’s convenient. Eventually, in order to maintain balanced tension with a softening Klaus, Elijah became violent without nuance in every situation. His continued development is no longer possible, since his character no longer displays depth.
Which is annoying, as a fan. But as a person who loves to analyze narrative, it’s a huge red flag. Elijah is necessary for this story. His love for Klaus, and Klaus’ relationship with him, is one of the things that holds the narrative together as it goes forward. The two of them need each other in order to experience growth, but cannot grow from each other any longer - and that friction is what provides energy and substance that can help drive a multi-year melodrama. This is why I mentioned above that Elijah’s violence was likely intended to balance with Klaus’ changing heart - but there is no balance in the level of development the two brothers experience. It has been shoddy in many places, but attention has been given to Klaus’ journey towards peace and kindness, while Elijah has been given a single metaphor, a single psychosis, and is expected to carry half of the narrative weight. The story has no choice but to make a plot device out of him - he simply does not have the required depth to be anything else, which is made obvious by the attempt to do so in the ritual to bring Inadu to the material plane, which I will discuss later.
When his development is ignored, when he is used as a tool to get from point A to point B time and time again - that’s when the pillar starts to crumble.
Zooming back in on s1, this was actually my only major structural gripe with season 1, so it comprises the entirety of the ‘what would you change’ for that season:
The poison that rotted the whole dang show started very small — casting Elijah too strongly as a white hat, to offset the darkness of the rest of the main family. This was the right move, of course, but it was pushed a twinge too far and it was the tiny weight that set everything wobbling. As an offshoot of that, this was also done with Hayley to a degree. I would have had them bond very similarly to the way they do in the show, but I would have had them connect at least once over the skeletons in their closets. (Only once or twice, again, since their ship relied in this season on the fallacy of each other being saviors). In fact, this was one I felt so strongly about that I actually did rewrite their scene in 1x07 ‘Bloodletting’.
Then season two when it gets more pronounced:
The rift in the show widened with the swing-and-miss that was The Red Door arc. Elijah became a Problem when it was convenient for the plot and A Fixer/Sounding Board when it was not. They used probably the most INTERESTING and INTEGRAL part of his characterization -- which had been a mystery for YEARS counting The Vampire Diaries appearances -- and Elijah discovering that either from trauma or his mother’s magic, he has repressed the moments which forged him. This lack of knowledge, this lack of control, should have been something much more cataclysmic and its effects should be clear when comparing ‘Elijah Before’ to ‘Elijah After’. Instead, it kind of served to take off Elijah’s ‘White Hat’ that he’d been illy-fitted with in S1, and allow him to accessorize with it or whatever version of Elijah fits the episode at hand.
This tension, and this chaos should have been much stronger and much more messy than simply putting the Suit back on and being Pretty Much Okay (barring one plot-insignificant diner massacre) only a few episodes later. It would make the therapy scene later with Camille even more gorgeous than it already is and it would then place Elijah’s moment of catharsis, and the beginning of his attempts to move on, with Klaus’ monumental forgiveness in 2x11. I think this is what was intended, but it was not at all achieved, because Elijah is such a tricky character to write, and it is so very easy to use him for whatever the scene requires. Because of this, Elijah’s struggles got dropped just long enough for Klaus’ forgiveness to hit powerfully in viewers for Klaus, but not for Elijah. The writing began to lean on Elijah as a Drama Everyman more and more throughout the show, and it’s just tragic to me that The Red Door wasn’t utilized to its potential. (And that we didn’t have a Klaus/Tatia conversation, but hey, I have an unfinished fixit for that whole saga on Ao3, you’re welcome and I’m sorry).
In season three, we got a few good glimpses of the kind of complexity that Elijah should live in -- the way he kills Arianne, for example, I’ve linked what I called a ‘headcanon’ but in retrospect it was pretty explicitly canon -- and we see the youth and terror and involuntary power in him in the flashback where he discovers that Klaus killed their mother. But the relationship between Tristan and Elijah? The man that he made, and that made him? That was far too pedestrian to have produced either of them. If Elijah learned ‘nobility’ from Tristan, learned what ‘superiority’ looked like, and this was the time that he began to change... we should have had words between them, or a scene highlighting just them, at least once in the flashbacks.
If this season was supposed to be about the creation of the Trinity, the First Children (because Finn didn’t tell no one that Sage is actually the oldest ‘cuz he’s an ashamed little bitch) why did we see only TWO of the THREE transformations? Klaus turned Lucien accidentally, trying to heal him. Rebekah’s sympathy and love were used as Aurora’s tool to turn herself. When and how did Elijah turn Tristan? It is explained that Elijah turned him in order to create a third vampire for his plot to trick Mikael into chasing them instead -- it is explained that Tristan, Aurora, and Lucien were compelled to believe that they were in fact Elijah, Rebekah, and Klaus in order to make their decoy impeccable. But when this compulsion was shattered -- when Lucien learned that he had been used and made monstrous as a tool for a monster who wasn’t even noble -- did he confront Elijah? Did they ever speak, or was their next meeting the day Elijah learned that Tristan had taken over Elijah’s coven? I would argue that Elijah needed equal weight in the France flashbacks even though he didn’t have a flashy romance (though if early press release rumors were true, he and Tristan could have had one and that would have been perfect)
Season four is really where you can pick an episode and Elijah will put on the stage makeup and play any part. It’s also -- BIG COINCIDENCE -- where the plot deteriorates completely. Here’s just one example from my Excuse You What the Hell? Season Four meta:
On to the next moment that showed major neglect (I know this has been Elijah-heavy so far, but again, this is where the problem started so I want to carry this thread through for a while before addressing other issues) - the ritual to bring Inadu to the mortal realm. The purpose of this ritual was to scare viewers with the risk of Hope’s safety and hype the Hollow’s “bad”ness, but also to make the first move in the ‘Letting Go’ thread between Hayley and Elijah. Elijah was supposed to be forced to choose between children's lives and letting the Hollow loose upon the world, and decide to kill the children. That was the dramatic point of placing this ritual in the narrative, but it isn’t mechanically sound.
It is stated outright that the ritual has to end with the death of the children linked to the spell. The children were linked via their totems found in 4x03 - placing Hope definitively in this group.
But we only ever see four of the five in one place. Maybe it was worth it to the Hollow to reach as far out as Hope was to bind her via her hairbrush, maybe it was worth it to the Hollow to drain her from afar, I’d buy that easily. But they made no attempt to kidnap her and place her with the other four children during the ritual. The ritual that required the deaths of five children. Unless it required Hope to be there only on standby, which is absolutely ridiculous. They had the kids on an alter, even if it was just for show. But why not all of them? If the real goal of the ritual was to lure Klaus and/or Marcel, wouldn’t kidnapping Klaus’ child be a more surefire way to accomplish that rather than just hoping the Mikaelsons would come to the right mystical diagnosis in time?
The reason why Hope wasn’t there was because the ritual was never thought through. The reason she wasn’t there is because it didn’t make sense for Elijah to want to kill Hope to stop the Hollow, which is what this ritual actually demanded if it actually worked the way Vincent claimed. In actuality, all that was desired was for Elijah to display a willingness to kill innocents in front of Hayley, and in doing so it demanded that Hope’s life both be at stake and not at stake at all. This failure to coherently execute a single-episode arc is plainly poor storytelling. It displays not only disrespect to the narrative structure, but a blatant flippancy towards one of their main characters and arguably the most complex one on the series. The sloppily contrived tension here between Hayley and Elijah does eventually contribute to the supposed theme, yes, but at what cost?
Elijah was neglected because he was hard to write, and even harder to write well as a ‘light’ foil to Klaus. Marcel should have fully owned that role, and not been similarly jerked around as a plot-serving every-man once the mystery of season 1 and the reasons behind Marcel’s ‘senseless’ cruelty were revealed.
Elijah was always the cornerstone of the family’s narrative, because he was complex enough to carry it. Camille provided an additional column of support to Klaus’ individual journey as a person/father, but she was bulldozed for Allmighty Plot as well. By the end of season three, both she and Elijah had effectively been thrown in the garbage one way or another, and the show tried to go on without them. It couldn’t.
I will say that Elijah’s conversation with Hope in that ludicrous backdoor pilot did make me feel things. I did also see the clip where Elijah and Klaus have a heart-to-heart in some sort of european flashback, which was touching, but felt incongruous for their relationship/dev at the time. Hope asking Elijah how old he was when he made his promises to Klaus, though? Elijah offering carte blanche to Hope for how to punish her friend’s bullies? TWO OF THE THREE SCENES INVOLVING ICE CREAM?
SOME of season 5 is valid but ONLY because it stole scripts from my headcanons.
#anamysis#preview of some metas in progress#hey guys does anyone here want to talk about ELIJAH?#*pepe silvia voice*#Anonymous#asks
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We’ll Carry On - Chapter Thirty Six
We’ll Carry On Tag
General Content Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Substance Abuse, Abandonment, Minor Character Death, Transphobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Dissociation, Bullying, Homophobia
Chapter-Specific Warnings: Alcohol, Vomiting
October 31st, 2015
“Come on, Jess, your parents really aren’t letting you trick-or-treat this year?” Jack asked on the other end of the phone.
“Yeah, sorry, Jack,” Jessica said, feeling completely and utterly dejected but trying to not sound too disappointed lest her father find out. “My dad says I’m too old to go trick-or-treating.”
“That sucks. We’re only twelve, we’re not ‘too old’ to have fun tonight!” Jack protested.
“I know, but he doesn’t,” Jessica said, pursing her lips.
Jack sighed, causing static on the line. “I’ll smuggle you some candy next time I see you.”
Jessica smiled. “You’re the MVP, Jack.”
“Of course,” Jack said. “Try not to get too down on yourself tonight. You can have fun in other ways too.”
“Yeah,” Jessica said, nodding. “Talk soon.”
October 31st, 2019
Logan adjusted his wig in the mirror, feeling completely ridiculous but at the same time a little giddy. Dad and Ami were letting him go trick-or-treating with Roman and the others, and he was allowed to be the chaperone for them, while Dad and Ami stayed home to pass out candy to the other neighbors. Jack was going to one of the parties that the seniors were throwing, but Logan was just happy to go door-to-door with his younger brothers, collecting candy.
He grabbed his pillowcase and headed downstairs, looking at their group full of eclectic costumes. Logan was a mad scientist, complete with a wig that had hair sticking up in every direction. Roman was in full princely attire, right down to the gold frills on the front and the red sash. Dee looked straight out of a fifties cartoon, with a little cape and long yellow gloves that matched the old ones he had but he was outgrowing. He noticed that Dee had gotten Ami to put scales over half of his face, too, and Logan knew Dee would be demanding pictures once all this was over so he could remember being “a slimey boi” as Roman had put it. Patton had cat ears and a cowboy outfit on, and he was saying, “Meowdy, pawtner!” to whoever would listen. Virgil was a vampire, complete with a pair of fangs over his actual teeth. Virgil looked over as Logan came down the stairs and asked, “We ready?”
“We’re ready,” Logan confirmed. “Let’s go get some candy!”
The younger three cheered and bolted out the door, while Roman and Logan went at a slower pace. “You know Dad or Ami could have come with us to chaperone, you didn’t have to give up going to the Halloween party,” Roman said.
“I know,” Logan said. “But I haven’t been trick-or-treating since I was eleven. I missed it.” Then, when Dee was starting to become more of a shadow in the dim light than his actual costume, Logan called, “Slow down, Dee! Stay within my sight!”
Roman glanced at him. “Yeah, I haven’t gone trick-or-treating since I was eleven, too. Only I only missed one year. You missed...four?”
“Four, yeah,” Logan nodded. “Which, I might not have gone out every year, but I wanted to at least go when I was twelve, I had a really cool costume planned and everything.”
Roman nodded. “But now you get to do it again.”
“Yeah, now I get to do it again,” Logan agreed. “And maybe next year I’ll go to the Halloween party.”
They got to the first house at the edge of the neighborhood and they stopped talking, instead letting the younger ones yell, “Trick or treat!” when they rang the doorbell and a woman opened it.
All of them got candy, including Logan, and he felt inexplicably happy that he was able to get some candy again. They went to the next door, repeating the routine, and Dee got complimented on his costume, which he beamed at, and Logan thanked the teen on the other side of the door. “He’s very particular about his costume,” Logan said.
“Yeah, I could see,” the guy said. “Take a lollipop?”
“Thanks,” Logan said, grabbing one.
“No problem, Logan,” the guy said.
Logan frowned. “...Do we know each other?”
“Not well,” the guy said. “But we did hang out occasionally at the community pool.”
“Right!” Logan said, snapping his fingers. “Maybe I’ll see you around then, Casey?”
“You know it,” Casey said with a grin. “Catch up to your brothers, or else they might go on to the next door without you!”
Logan thanked Casey again and dashed after the others, catching up just before they rung the doorbell on the next house. Roman smiled but didn’t make a comment, and they went from house to house to house, going around the whole neighborhood in the span of two hours.
When the sun had completely set long ago and the boys had hit every door, they went back home and were greeted by a very excited Vanellope sporting tiny bat wings. All the boys save Logan went to the kitchen to compare what they had gotten and trade candy, but Logan’s phone started ringing, so he took his candy up to his room and answered it. “Yeah?” Logan asked.
“Logan,” Jack said on the other end of the phone, slurring slightly. “I think I need a lil help.”
Logan was instantly on alert. “I’ll come right over. Are you still at the party?”
“Mhm,” Jack hummed. “But everyone I came with is really drunk, an’ I don’ wanna be in a car when the driver’s really drunk. But I can’t drive ‘cause I’m drunk. D’you think you can pick me up?”
“Yeah, of course,” Logan said, already leaving his room and rushing down the stairs, signing to Ami that he needed the car keys.
“Something wrong?” Ami asked.
“Jack’s at the party but his designated driver didn’t stay sober,” Logan whispered. “He wants a ride back home with someone sober.”
“I’ll come with you,” Ami said.
Logan started to protest, “I don’t want to be an inconvenience—”
“No. Logan, that’s not a request. I’m coming with you,” Ami said.
“Okay,” Logan said as Ami passed him the car keys and the two of them got into the minivan. “Jack, I’m coming over, but I have to hang up now, all right? Stay safe, and don’t get into any cars.”
“Mmm, I won’, promise, Lo,” Jack slurred, hanging up.
Logan hung up and backed out of the driveway, glancing at Ami, who was glaring out the front window. “Ami? Am I in trouble?”
Ami glanced over and shook his head. “No, Logan, you’re not in trouble.”
“...Is Jack?” Logan asked.
“That’ll depend on his parents, I assume,” Ami said. “Did you know there was going to be alcohol at the party?”
“I didn’t know for certain, but I assumed someone might try and sneak in some beer,” Logan admitted. “Most people did. That’s why Jack went with a group, and they had a designated driver.”
Ami nodded stiffly. “Are most of the parties you and Jack get invited to like that?”
Logan squirmed in his seat a little, stopping at a red light. “Yes,” he admitted. “Which is one of the reasons I generally don’t go. I don’t want the temptation. And if I do go, I’m the designated driver. I don’t want to get in a car with someone when the driver is drunk.”
Ami was silent for a long while. “If you were at college, and you didn’t have to drive back to wherever you were sleeping, would you drink, even if you were under twenty-one?”
Logan swallowed. “I...guess it would depend on the situation. If I trusted the people around me, or not.”
Ami took a breath. “Thank you for being honest, at least.”
“You don’t like the thought of me drinking underage,” Logan said.
“I don’t like the thought of you drinking, period,” Ami said. “That can quickly become self-medication, especially if you deal with a lot of the stuff you go through, Logan.”
“I’m responsible about it,” Logan said. “The one time I ever actually...” he trailed off, realizing that might not be the right thing to say.
Ami’s eyes flickered dangerously. “Finish the sentence,” he said.
Logan swallowed. “The one time I ever actually drank, I kept an eye on my beer at all times, it was only one beer the whole night, and Jack was the designated driver. And he never touched a drop.”
Ami took a couple deep breaths, and Logan started to shake. “Ami...please don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad at you,” Ami said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m mad at me, and Emile. We should have educated you better about the dangers of underage drinking. We should have made it clear that if you’re at a party, we don’t want you drinking, or worse. We didn’t set clear boundaries, and as a result, you could have put yourself in danger.”
Logan swallowed as they pulled up to the house, cars lining the street on both sides and in both directions. Music was blasting through the walls and Logan could see plenty of people inside the house dancing, and drinking. Jack was sitting on the porch steps, looking like he might pass out. “Jack,” Logan called softly, walking over.
“Mm...Lo?” Jack asked. “Th’nks for comin’ to get me...”
Logan helped Jack stand up and Jack swayed. “How much did you have to drink?” Logan asked.
“Two beers,” Jack said, rubbing his head. “I left the second one at my waist, though, and I didn’t look at it for a sec, then after I sipped it, everything got hazy, and I called you.”
Logan stopped short. “Jack...did someone spike your drink?!”
“Mm...dunno,” Jack mumbled. “Possibly. No one tried anything, though. Slipped outside ‘fore anyone saw me.”
Logan paled. “Jack, we’re going back to your house, right now. We’re telling your parents, and we’re going to see if you need to be in the hospital.”
“Lo, ‘s not that bad...” Jack said, lazily waving his free hand around.
Logan led Jack back to the van. “Jack, someone spiked your drink, you are going home and we are telling your parents.”
“Lo, c’mon,” Jack begged. “They’re gonna kill me if they find out I drank.”
“Well, you can’t crash at my place,” Logan said. “Ami’s gonna insist you go home.”
“I’m debating taking him straight to the hospital,” Ami said simply.
Jack looked up at the new voice and squinted. “Mister Picani?” he asked.
Ami walked over and helped Jack get into a back seat. “You did the right thing, calling Logan,” he told Jack. “But if you’re in danger, we’re telling your parents.”
Even as Jack protested, Ami turned to Logan. “You’re sitting in the back and making sure he doesn’t tuck and roll out of the car.”
Logan felt his eyes getting hot, absolutely petrified, as he silently passed the car keys over and climbed in the back next to Jack. Jack fell asleep, head resting on Logan’s shoulder as they drove to Jack’s house in silence.
Ami got out of the car and signaled for Logan to stay inside with Jack. Logan did so, but opened the van door to listen to the conversation Ami was having with Mister and Misses Harkness. It was mostly too quiet to hear, until Misses Harkness gasped and exclaimed, “He did what?!”
“He had a designated driver,” Ami said. “But the driver didn’t keep their word, so he called Logan. I made sure to come with him and make sure Jack was okay. But it’s possible his drink was spiked. You need to figure out if he needs to be taken to the hospital.”
Jack stirred and gagged, and Logan quickly unbuckled him, helping him out of the car right before he emptied what little was in his stomach. “Don’ feel good, Lo,” Jack mumbled.
Logan didn’t doubt it. Jack was sweating all over, and shaking. “I know you don’t. We’re at your home, and your mom and dad are gonna figure out if you need to see the doctors.”
Jack looked at Logan with betrayal. “Why would you tell my parents?!” he slurred.
“Because he cares about you, Jack,” Mister Harkness said, coming over. “And you are going to the hospital. And once you’re sober, we will be having a serious talk.”
Logan swallowed as Mister Harkness took most of Jack’s weight. “I’m sorry,” Logan whispered.
Mister Harkness softened as he looked at Logan. “You helped Jack, Logan. Regardless of what either of you have done in the past, you helped him tonight. You might have saved his life. Thank you.”
Logan started to cry, shaking as he nodded. Ami came over and helped Logan back into the van, driving home in tense silence, only broken by Logan’s hiccups. When they got home, Ami hugged him and said, “Go upstairs and go to bed. We can talk about this in the morning when everyone’s calm and we know that Jack is safe.”
When Logan nodded, Ami let him go upstairs, and Logan silently crawled into bed, crying himself to sleep out of worry.
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Sun, I miss you - Vamp!Ray/MC fic
Belated happy Valentine’s Day!
Title: Sun, I miss you
Fandom: Mystic Messenger
Pairing: Vamp!Ray/ MC
Tags: post-apo AU, vampires, angst, brooding vampire with a thing for bad metaphors
Word count: 2580
Summary: The lower the sun set, the harder it was for Ray to resist his second nature.
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Behind the curtain, just enough to see without being seen.
MC was leaning over a shrub, her falling down hair successfully hiding her expression, but Ray could imagine what it was like. Halcyon. Peaceful, as she felt the warm kisses of the sun, immersed in the abundant perfume of the brilliant summer day, with the delicate petals between her fingers. Petals as blue as the sky.
Sometimes it stung, this mixture of happiness and sadness when he was looking without being seen.
Ray slunk back, deeper into the shadows.
Rusty hues were spilling over the earlier pristine skyscape. It was time to go back to her.
Ray corked the test tube up and put his observations down in his journal.
The method has so far shown no results. No indication why the test subject is immune.
He slipped his worn lab coat off, adjusted the ruffle on his shirt, and put his jacket on.
Rushing through the slowly lighting up corridors, he was vaguely wondering if the colourful clothing did anything to liven him up.
She was in – he could hear the rustling pages, her low humming, the rhythm of her heart. This time she was to notice him.
A sharp intake of air – unnecessary but at the same time so very needed – and then a knock at the door.
“I’m here to collect the dishes.”
The moment she saw him in the threshold, MC lowered the book and placed it with the cover facing upwards on her knees. “You came! Please do, but why don’t you sit down with me for a while first? Rest a bit.”
“I—” he shook his head. Cutlery clattered loudly against the tray as she tried to help him tidy up. It was... nice. Being asked, that is. “I cannot. But I’ll be back soon with your dinner.”
MC shot up from her seat in the armchair, the book landing softly on the carpet, and handed him the dishes. “You’re doing it again.”
“What do you mean?
“Ignoring my invitations. Stay – nothing bad’s going to happen if you let yourself relax.”
Standing next to the window, she had her profile bathed in the dying out sunlight. Her eyes lit up with trust. She was so wrong.
He pressed his lips into a thin line as if that could seal the threat off.
“Later, I’ll bring you your food.”
Preparations for the next day’s examinations took longer than usually. He was tugging at the sleeves of his shirt, un-cuffing them as he strode to her room, the jacket left at the back of his seat in the laboratory.
He hated it, how pitch dark sky glimmering in the passed windows put him at ease. No need to omit the blots of natural light on the floor, to squint his eyes. Darkness was so easy, so safe.
But he missed the sun. It allowed flowers to bloom, added colour to pale cheeks, and never failed to raise on the following day. And it wasn’t for him anymore – the most he could do was to step back and, fixed behind the pane, observe the spectacle of life and death that went on without him.
It was harder to keep safe distance now that MC was here. She was everything that he could no longer dream to be. And even worse, she was dangerously trusting.
Still, he was the airhead here. How hopelessly he clung to the scraps of humanity her ignorance allowed! To – just for a while – talk to a human and be seen as one was worth all the consequences he was likely to face afterwards.
The way MC gazed at him and called his name – oblivious of the effect she had on him; unknowing that her soft smiles and kind words filled his thoughts long after he’d left her room. Even if with difficulty, he was able to control his vicious nature while handling her blood samples, but somehow a mere glance at her drew him like a moth to a flame. It wasn’t only about his condition, if at all, there was something else in MC than blood that tempted him, something he was scared he wasn’t able to refrain from much longer.
Without doubt she would curse him once she knew, but until that... he was going to keep clenching his fangs and squeezing his eyes.
He couldn’t bring himself to stop loving the sun despite the pain it entailed.
Ray stopped by the kitchen, heated up the soup and roast he’d prepared in advance, and headed to MC.
“I was held back by work. I’m sorry to bring you food this late.”
She was sitting in the same place as the last time he’d seen her, but this time her gaze was wandering about the vast greenery outside. Her expression unreadable.
“Eat with me,” she said, finally looking in his direction, “You brought more than enough for two.”
The tray made no sound as it was placed in front of her. “Thank you, but I’ve prepared it just for you. I’ll eat later.”
MC took a spoon and stirred the smooth surface in the bowl. A slight line appeared on her forehead as she tasted the soup. Did he put too much spices? Or was it too bland?
“You think I haven’t noticed. How you look wistfully outside, but never join me in the garden. You always reject food, and yet you always seem hungry. Eat with me.”
Were these tears that added shine to her eyes? No... was is determination? He took a sit opposite her.
“No, but I can accompany you a little if you wish so. When I invited you here for the tests, I believed I would get to spend more time with you. I apologise if you are being bored here.”
“Bored?” MC spoke over the mouthful of food. He’d almost starved her here! He had to remember from now on to bring food more regularly. “No, not bored. Just alone at times. But I’m really glad I can help.”
For the most time MC ate in silence, speaking up only to lavish praises on his cuisine. She ate with such appetite, he regretted he couldn’t join her.
“So, what have you been doing today?” she asked.
“Ah. I run some tests and prepared for tomorrow. Everything’s looking good so far, I think you’ll meet the Saviour in the matter of days.”
And then you’ll know the truth and hate the thought of being with me in one room.
“Saviour,” she repeated. “Ray, what exactly happens after the oath ceremony? Will I become a member like you?”
“No. I would never allow them to do that to you.” He stood up, the armchair scraping the floor. “I see you’re almost finished, I’ll leave you to get some rest.”
He wasn’t expecting this, so he couldn’t react in time when she moved to grab his hand. Thankfully, she held onto the part covered with the glove, which saved her from discovering the unnatural cool of his skin. “Let’s visit the garden before you go. Please, it will mean a lot to me.”
Ray was about to refuse, but something in her face didn’t let him. After all, it was his fault that she was sitting here all days virtually without anyone or anything to occupy her time. And while his desires were by no means his priority, he really wanted to see the garden with her.
He nodded.
“It’s different than during the day,” said MC, walking three steps ahead of him, “but it’s no less beautiful.”
Ray considered her words with curiosity. He was used to visiting the garden in nighttime, tending to it to fill the sleepless hours. There was no arguing it was different, but could it really be compared to the lively spectacle of the day?
Following her, Ray tried to look at the familiar trees and patches with the borrowed enthusiasm. The majority of flowers had hidden their buds, but there were night flowers too, evening primrose and night gladiolus, opening only now to fill the air with their fuddling sweetness. The buzzing of bees gave way to the cicadas’ concert. None of it was new to him, but somehow he found himself smiling, enchanted by his own garden.
“I wish we could see the moon,” she said dreamily, and turned to Ray as if remembering something. “Aren’t you cold? Maybe we should head back inside, I’d hate it if you caught something because of me.”
“It’s fine, we can stay longer if you wish.”
She tilted her head slightly sending him a quizzical smile, “Tell me if you change your mind.”
“I will.”
The distance between them was comforting, but MC waited for him. Ray entangled his hands behind his back, anxious not to touch her. When he caught up with her, she filled his senses with a doubled intensity, a unique fragrance putting all the exquisite flowers to shame.
“Ray? About what you said in my room... Are you alright? You know you can tell me if there’s something bothering you, right? ”
His new name was a constant reminder of what he’d lost, but it rolled so innocently off her tongue, without a shade of doubt that it could possibly not suit him. The first thing he had heard as a reborn, unwittingly filled with tragic irony. A “ray” doomed for darkness.
She took his wrists in her hands and even though this time Ray had seen what she was about to do, he did not move away. If she noticed his body temperature she hid it well or did not mind.
“Right?”
Her blood vessels pressed against his flesh, pulsating with vital energy, hot and quick, inviting.
Ray gulped. He shouldn’t be here. He really wanted to be here.
“Please, forget what I said.” He couldn’t look her in the eye, he knew her face was flushed, her lips lightly bitten on. Instead, he redirected his attention above her – to the leaves, swishing in the night breeze, to the moths hovering over the bushes. Only one part of the garden had fallen asleep, the other lived on, partaking in the cycle of life, still here even if easily overlooked.
“You were right about my garden. It is beautiful.”
“Is it really yours?” Her head whirled around taking the view in as if she saw it for the first time. “I haven’t seen a garden like this in... never actually. How is it possible?”
“It was an accident.” She raised her eyebrows and he couldn’t help but giggle. “A couple years back I discovered a substance, by chance, really, which temporarily reverses the contamination of the soil.”
“Temporarily? Will the flowers wither soon?”
“Isn’t it how nature works?” he smiled lightly, but the sadness did not leave MC’s expression. “Don’t worry, they will grow the way they would have before the Crash if I keep the soil fertilised.”
She nodded slowly, and he wandered if it was only now that she realised that beauty could not last. Each attempt to congeal it in time could at best lead to making a caricature out of it. A fleeting sense of acceptance, a glimmer of happiness – that was all. He was lucky to get to experience these once more after his time had already passed.
MC let go of him, but not for long, his hand was soon after clasped in her smaller one as she led him deeper into the garden.
“I especially love these,” she said, and even before she stood next to them, he had known which flowers she meant.
Her fingers found the bud like so many times before, but this time he was next to her as she felt the petals. Her other hand grazed lightly at his, and he found himself cursing his gloves.
“I never knew that before the Crash roses came in so many different shades.”
In this variety of flowers she had to pick blue roses. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her. Would she hate them if she knew roses would never grow like this on their own? Would she hate him?
That’s when her finger slipped onto the stem, harvesting a glimmering bead of blood when it hooked on a thorn.
He froze.
Without a blink, she put it in her mouth.
“Isn’t it nice?”
“W-what?”
“Being in your garden like this. You should come by more often, you deserve it – doing things that make you happy. I wish—“
Her words were drowned by the rushing of her blood in his ears, interjected rhythmically by her quickened heartbeat.
Was her body finally sensing the danger she had got herself into?
The small cut on her finger became the centre of his universe before his eyes followed the mesh of veins, blue under her thin skin, leading up her arms, higher and higher.
You deserve it. You deserve it.
It was the movement of her lips when she got closer that hinted to him she was speaking. He looked her in the eyes. As trusting and filled with life as ever. He would never. He’s better than that. He started breathing in and out just to calm himself.
“—happy too. If you feel the same and if you let me, I’ll be telling you how dear you are to me every day for the rest of our lives.”
Her hands wandered up and rested on his shoulders. She was so close he could see a lost eyelash on her cheek, and moved to take it off before he could think about it properly.
“Let me care for you, for a change.”
His mouth was taking the shape of rejection, and he knew it would take only one word for her to leave him alone. She wouldn’t do anything against his will.
And this was why he bent a little and met her lips halfway, instantly melting into their warmth. Softer than he’d ever dared to imagine.
She threw her hands around his neck, and he didn’t know where his hands went, so completely he got lost in the moment; his rationality drown out by her raging heartbeat, so deafeningly loud.
Absently he noticed how desperate her movements were getting, losing their initial shyness. Their mouths opened more widely in unison, but she was the first one to caress him so carelessly.
He gasped in surprise when one of her hands tugged lightly at his hair. MC giggled, but didn’t stop, instead turning his attention back to her tongue, which was now gliding over his lips.
Another kiss – deeper and more hasty than the previous ones, and he parted unwillingly to let her breathe, grazing his teeth over her lower lip and pulling at it in a way mirroring her own teasing games.
She jumped back, yelping.
MC patted with the back of her hand on her puffed lips, but Ray knew what she would see. A droplet of her blood almost burned a hole in his tongue.
Slowly, she raised her eyes to his. Only then he realised that his own mouth was hanging agape. He draped his hand over the offensive view, but it was too late.
“R-ray? What...?”
He shook his head heavily as if it could nullify what had just happened. Now she knew. It was over. It was all over.
He managed a choked out “sorry” before running off.
He was going to miss her.
#mystic messenger#saeran choi#saeran#saeran/mc#saeran fanfic#ray x mc#ray/mc#mysme fanfic#mystic messenger fanfic#vamp!ray#i wasn't going to write it but then i did#writing instead of studying and then editing intead of packing#sorry for all mistakes it's literally past 5 am#simonsaysread
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