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dystopianam · 5 months

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Headcanons about VV's ADULTS premades!

⚠️ Since these are my personal headcanons, I don't take responsibility if someone gets offended by the way I interpret the characters or if you don't like certain couples. I don't like perfect life stories, I like DRAMA, not all characters are good people, there are even villains among them!

If you like these let me know if you would also like to know my headcanons on the elders, teenagers and children of Veronaville!

P.S: In the post I refer very often to "historical times". By historical times I mean an AU where the characters live in a very ancient year instead of modern times. In this case I am referring to the year 1300+, because these were the years where the real Romeo & Juliet is set. (For those who say no, the years where the story is set are conflicting in many versions of the story, but here in Italy they say it is 1300+ because the real Romeo and Juliet lived in that period)

To start without do favoritism, let's start with the Summerdreams!

Titania Summerdream

She's a fairy (obvs). Very tall, chaotic, lover of alcohol and umh...something else that Lazlo loves too. Very extroverted, loves to party and watch real life dramas but doesn't like it if happen in her family. For a long time she tried to make a baby with Oberon but never succeeded. After a while she understood that one of the two was sterile, but not knowing human medicine they never knew how to find out which of the two, and that's why they adopted Puck and Bottom.

She loves her adopted children immeasurably, but without wanting to, she often finds herself favoring Puck, making Bottom jealous.

She is the kind of mother who treats you like you are a child even if you are 54 years old, hugs and cuddles you in front of anyone and embarrasses you in front of anyone, expecially in front of your friends.

Being of a mischievous and perverse nature, she often finds herself saying embarrassing things in any situation, often risking killing Puck of embarrassment.

She thinks that anyone the same age as her kids are their boyfriends/girlfriends and torments they by asking if they are. In front of them.

She constantly smiles mischievously, calls everyone "dear" and "darling", and often speaks vaguely, as if doing riddles.

She calls Puck with lots of embarrassing lovely nicknames. She does the same with Bottom.

She often finds herself feeling neglected by Oberon because of his work, but they both love each other a lot.

Not knowing technology, being a fairy, she began to learn about it recently. Her favorite things about that are 10 year old boomer memes and taking boomer photo montages with the sunset behind her.

Often she texts her kids and replies to her own messages thinking they were the ones who responded, thus creating an entire conversation with herself.

Her movements are slow and elegant. But she burp a lot, and loud, when drunk.

She often behaves inappropriately with everyone and everywhere.

Oberon Gossamer

Oberon is also a fairy. Like Titania, he's very tall. He is the serious person of the couple. He loves theatre, writing scenes for films that only exist in his head, the sea and... he has a small, dangerous, attraction to black magic. He is calm and of few words, often speaking only if asked, but being the serious parent of the couple, he is also the one who listens to his kids's problems, try to help them and attends school meetings (Titania is not reliable).

He drinks, but a little, he is not a lover of alcohol like Titania, but he likes it. And...as for the hobby that Titania shares with Lazlo... let's say he likes it but with moderation.

Oberon learned to use technology much faster than Titania and therefore loves do video editing. Once he even tried to be a Youtuber but he had to close the channel because people in the comments told him that he was hot and Titania didn't like that.

Unfortunately he often gets lost in overworking and neglects Titania a bit.

Also, since he learned youth slang he uses it a little too often and inappropriately.

Now let's move on to the Montys!

Bianca Monty

Bianca has an average height. She is neither tall nor short, and has a decisive, stubborn, intelligent personality. She is honest, direct, she always says what she thinks, she doesn't want to please anyone, but she's also very very closed emotionally. She often hides that she has negative emotions and memories created by the family situation and pretends that nothing harms her. Often, this inability to let off her sad thoughts and show weakness makes her appear grumpy or unpleasant, but that is not her intention.

Bianca left home as soon as she turned 18, tired of hearing about the feud with the Capps, but that's no secret. She has a good relationship with her mother, her brother and her nephews, but is on bad terms with her father.

Once she started living on her own, Bianca tried to figure out what she wanted from her independence: did she want to study? Work? start a family?

Having always had a difficult situation in the family, as she had no use as a daughter, that couldn't be the heir, Bianca has always wanted to have a family of her own but...noticing that taking care of her brother Antonio's twins created difficulties for her, discouraged her very much.

"Maybe I'm not ready yet." Bianca thought, and then she decided to concentrate on her studies. She often frequented a library and there she met Kent.

The two immediately became friends, but Kent was afraid to tell Bianca that he was a Capp. But when Bianca found out, their relationship became even closer, because both were against the feud.

At one point, Bianca had a crush on Kent, but when he came out to her as gay, she felt the world fall on her. Disappointment hit her in the chest and when she finally thought she had found her place in the world, her man, the father of her future childrens, her dreams became illusions.

Bianca never confessed to Kent, so she silently accepted it, once again hiding another pain of which she could never talk about.

However, after that discovery, Bianca, appreciating the trust that Kent had felt towards her, finally began to open up and tell him all the bad things that she had always kept inside. Kent was the only one who could listen to her. No one before him had ever been willing to listen to her.

From that even more intimate approach, Bianca also began to become very interested in the LGBT+ community, after listening to Kent talk about it, and sincerely tried to explore herself a little. But noticing... how the crush for Kent doesn't seem to want to pass, leaves little doubt to herself.

Antonio Monty

Antonio, as a man, is short, like his father's height, when Patrizio was young.

Like his sister Bianca, he also moved away from his parents' house, but this happened after his wife Hero's disappearance, following a big verbal fight with his father.

Antonio has always endured his father's hatred for the Capps in silence, but when the feud led to his brother Claudio and his sister-in-law Olivia losing their lives, and the disappearance of his wife Hero, the limit was reached.

Antonio loved Claudio very much, and after his death, his relationship with his father ended to a point of no return, accusing him of being the cause of his death.

He decides to earn a living without his father's monetary support and starts working as a cook (in my headcanons, in modern times he and Claudio had a restaurant, in "historical" times, instead they have an inn).

Antonio loves cooking, food is literally his whole life and he hopes that one day his passion will allow him to leave a good legacy to his twins, so that he doesn't have to worry about leaving them with nothing.

Antonio is a perfect father, he always puts his children as priority over everything and would prefer to starve to feed them. He is sweet, patient, tries to treat both twins the same but often forgets that Benedick is also a child and entrusts him with too many responsibilities such as checking on Beatrice while he is at work or helping him at the restaurant/inn after school.

He is often very strict regarding education and good manners and this is why his children are so polite, but the stress of being a single father often leads him to become excessively angry. The twins know that their father isn't really as angry with them as he seems, but other people might think of him as an exaggerated father.

After Claudio's death, Antonio also tried to be a father to Mercutio and Romeo, loving his nephews very much, but living away from them is a bit problematic, even though he himself had proposed to them to live with him.

In any case, Antonio made a promise to Claudio that he would protect Mercutio and Romeo at all costs, and for this reason he still does not lose sight of them, with one excuse or another.

From time to time Mercutio helps Antonio at the restaurant/inn as a waiter or cook, but Antonio doesn't let Romeo into the kitchen because Romeo doesn't know how to cook and would make everything catch fire.

Hero Monty

Hero is of average height, has a strong, determined, stubborn and courageous personality but unfortunately she comes from a very, very poor family.

She doesn't know how to cook, she is very clumsy in doing everything (but in historical times she would have known how to use a sword even if she is a woman) and Antonio is often the one who has to cook her food and help her around the house, but... it is precisely her defects that have made him fall in love with her despite their very different social statuses.

Patrizio never accepted Hero, he never accepted Antonio marrying a woman who was so poor, but Antonio decided to disobey his father and married her anyway.

After their marriage, despite the tensions in the family, the two were happy, but unfortunately, as often happens, not everything can be perfect, and Hero also ended up falling in love with her husband Antonio's younger brother, Claudio.

The two had a secret relationship even though Claudio was also married to another woman, Olivia, and Hero only decided to tell him to stop when... she discovered she was pregnant.

She never told Claudio about the pregnancy, but pretended that the child was Antonio's. And so Antonio also believed that it was his own.

Hero gave birth to Viola, but full of shame for the daughter who was the result of her love affair wich Claudio, she decided to pretend that the baby had died during childbirth and gave her to the care of a maid.

Antonio was devastated, Viola grew up with that maid and ended up working as a maid herself but without ever knowing who her real parents were.

Hero never spoke to Claudio again for fear that she might fall back into temptation, and after a few years, she had the twins Benedick and Beatrice with Antonio.

Hero loved Antonio very much, and what had happened with Claudio had only been a huge mistake, but somehow, Patrizio had discovered the truth about Viola, perhaps thanks to some maid present at the birth who had acted as a spy.

Patrizio threatened Hero that he would tell Antonio everything if she didn't start respecting and obeying him, doing as he wanted. Hero was very stubborn, she hesitated, she didn't want to lose her pride in the face of a threat and... it was there that she was killed by a man paid by Patrizio himself. And Benedick, peering through the half-open door, saw everything.

Patrizio blamed the Capps for Hero's death and made his entire family believe that they were the ones who killed her. A short time later, Viola mysteriously disappeared.

Claudio Monty

Claudio is on average tall, taller than Antonio but shorter than Olivia. He is the choosen heir after Patrizio and before Romeo.

He is what can be called a good son par excellence. Respectful of his parents, he has never disobeyed his father's orders. He always studied what Patrizio had forced him to study and in his free time he practiced his passion for cooking by working in the restaurant/inn with his brother Antonio.

Claudio and Antonio bought the restaurant together and are both the owners, but in historical times, the two of them bought the inn secretly from Patrizio who did not accept that his sons worked like any other commoners, to the detriment of their high social status.

Claudio doesn't want to disappoint his parents and in front of them he is the perfect son, but when they don't see him, he...shows his slightly more libertine personality. In fact, he loves to appear youthful, and (according to my headcanons) he has Romance as his second aspiration, and for this reason, unfortunately, despite everything, he is not very faithful to Olivia, and this is why he ends up cheating on her with Hero.

Antonio often finds himself scolding him and blaming him for everything, arguing just like any pair of brothers, and unfortunately, that "libertine" side of Claudio's personality was also inherited by his sons: Mercutio and Romeo. Mercutio is in fact very rebellious, while Romeo is studious but a womanizer.

Despite everything, he is a good father, and although he is very serious when he wants, most of the time he is also the most permissive and the one who allows his sons to do stupid things while covering them up from their mother Olivia. He's also the kind of father who gives his sons advice about girls and then wants to know every detail and gossip about the girls they've dated.

Often ending up, however, "punished" together with his sons by his wife herself, with flying slippers.

After the fire at the Capp mansion, he and Olivia were kidnapped by the Capps, locked in a secret room in the mansion and left to starve to death despite Olivia also being heavily pregnant.

Olivia Monty

Olivia is tall, and there's not much I can say about her. Like Claudio she is also quite serious and a good daughter and daughter-in-law, but unlike Claudio, she behaves much more seriously and with maturity.

Coming from a family of doctors, she could have become a doctor, but she abandoned her studies to pursue a more homely life.

In her husband's family she doesn't have much freedom of speech. Patrizio is very tough, he feels like the master of everyone, so, in order not to argue she prefers to remain silent, unlike her sister-in-law Hero who instead responded badly to her father-in-law when she sees things that are not right.

She's a good wife and a good mother, but she is much stricter with her sons unlike Claudio who lets them do a bit of everything, even what they shouldn't.

She doesn't know that Claudio cheated on her with Hero, and that's why Olivia sees Hero as a good friend and is on good terms with her. (In historical times, I imagine that Olivia knew that Claudio had cheated on her with Hero, but that she couldn't say anything because at the time wives couldn't really have the right to speak. Men had the right to have as many women as they wanted, but since Hero was a married woman, she could have been accused of adultery if Olivia had wanted to be vindictive.)

While Mercutio got his rebellious spirit from his father and Romeo his studious, womanizing attitude from his father, both brothers got their vivacity and sloppiness from their mother. Claudio on the other hand is quite clean.

If she had been alive, she would most likely have helped Romeo to be with his Juliette and... she would have accepted Mercutio's relationship with Tybalt (I ship them) as a very open minded person. While, maybe, Claudio would have been a little more reluctant.

Now let's move on to the Capps!

Goneril Capp

Goneril is very tall, first of the four children of Consort and Contessa Capp.

As the first daughter, she has always been convinced that the role of heir would be given to her by right, but the decision of her mother Contesaa to make her younger sister, Cordelia, the future heir of the family, created envy and jealousy between the sisters.

Goneril is serious, ambitious, elegant, clever. She tries to be perfect in everything but that doesn't seem enough to please her parents.

Although she was the first daughter to get married, the fact that her younger sister, Cordelia, had become pregnant before her created great anxiety for her. The anxiety faded when she saw with great satisfaction and malice that her sister's firstborn was a boy, Tybalt, and therefore that he would never enter the line of succession, and the relief was stronger when she gave birth to her firstborn, Miranda, but...even so, her parents didn't seem to change their minds. The heir was and continued to remain Cordelia.

Relations with her family are very tense. She is resentful towards her parents for not choosing her, with her second sister, Regan, the relationship is very "at convenience", sometimes they hate each other, sometimes they love each other, it depends on what the plans are. She can't stand her third sibling, Kent, finding him too strange and disrespectful to the family's honor, and hates her fourth sister Cordelia's entire family, especially Cordelia herself and her nieces (Cordelia's children) Tybalt and Juliette. With Hermia she is indifferent, as Hermia doesn't seem like a threat to the role of heir as she doesn't seem interested

It's no secret, at least to us players, that she often feels paranoid about her husband Albany and believes that Albany only married her for her money. But another of her problems is that although she loves her family very much, she is incapable of expressing affection, due to her harsh personality which leads her children to disobey. Especially with Miranda the relationship is very tense, but losing her trust is not what she wants. Goneril isn't a bad mother, even if her moral isn't exactly good.

Albany Capp

Albany is very tall, but not so much taller than his wife Goneril.

Even though Goneril is paranoid that he only loves her for her money, the truth is that Albany has been madly in love with Goneril since they were teenagers. He immediately saw in her the mother of his future children, and it's also true that he likes money very much, but his love for Goneril is sincere. He's basically a simp for Goneril. He doesn't mind at all that she has control over everything, even his person.

Although his canonical personality indicates that he is a very serious and grumpy person, for my personal headcanon I instead think that he is serious regarding the rigidity that his wife Goneril herself requires for his family (in short, he obeys her like a dog) and for the grumpiness...he just doesn't really hate anyone, but growls at people his wife doesn't like.

Albany actually has no interest in the feud, to tell the truth he doesn't even know why it started and often tries not to make enemies of any member of his wife's family.

He loves his children madly and is able to demonstrate it very well, unlike his wife. Being a father has always been his greatest desire! He often finds himself crying alone at the thought that sooner or later all his daughters will get married and leave home and this is why he always walks with an enormous handkerchief in one pocket, ready in case he feels like crying thinking about it.

Although he has a goofy face and seems calm, he would be capable of beating you very badly if you dared to harm his children.

But isn't the same for Goneril. Goneril is capable of defending herself, in truth Albany is a little afraid of his wife.

Regan Capp

Regan is tall, but shorter than her big sister Goneril. Second of the four children of Consort and Contessa Capp, she also aspires to the role of heir but like Goneril she found herself usurped first by her younger sister Cordelia and then by her niece Juliette.

Ambitious, clever and stubborn, she too would do anything to get that role (in historic years she would even have tried to kill the competition by poisoning the food, drinks or who knows what else!) but she has two big problems: she is much more emotional, more impulsive than her older sister Goneril, who is instead more thoughtful, cold-blooded, and...has a great inferiority complex due to the fact that she is the the only one of the sisters not to have children yet.

She doesn't even know if she wants a child that much, but the fact that after many years she still hasn't been able to have one worries her enough.

The marriage to her husband Cornwall is an arranged marriage, a marriage of convenience. The two never liked each other but...they're trying to like each other now.

The relationships with her family are very similar to those of Goneril, but with the difference that Regan feels much more resentment towards Cordelia and that... she doesn't know how to feel towards her brother Kent. She is sorry that he doesn't have a family of his own, that he is lonely, but at the same time he is... so intrusive into her married life with Cornwall that she can't stand this situation so much anymore.

Cornwall Capp

Cornwall is on average tall but shorter (slightly) than Regan.

He is greedy, has a bad temper and his world revolves solely around money. He married Regan for social convenience but despite seeing her efforts to try to be a couple in love he can't really like her. He pretends to like her.

He is envious, he is envious that a woman has so much more power and control over her life than he does. Envious because he doesn't even have a job.

And, he also hate very much his brother in law. Not only because he is intrusive and doesn't want him around, but also because... let's say I have always seen Cornwall as a very homophobic person? Male chauvinistic and homophobic, a perfect picture! ✨👌🏻 (I apologize to Cornwall fans (do they exist?) and to those who really like the Regan-Cornwall couple, I know they love each other very much in game but this is my personal headcanon, I ask for forgiveness 🥺)

Although it was clear to him from the beginning that in the Capp family it was the women who were in charge and had the power, Cornwall NEVER accepted this. For this reason he argued very often with Regan, ending in mutual agreement that they would both have the same right of ""command"" at home.

Kent Capp

Kent is VERY TALL, taller than his father Consort and his sisters. As a man, his role in a matriarchal family has always been very complicated and for this reason he has always been isolated from many things.

He is the favorite uncle of his nephews because he is the only one in the family to bring a bit of joy and madness among many long faces, his personality is both chaotic and very calm and lovely depends the situation, but both for this and for his hatred for the feud, he is called the black sheep of the family.

He misses his younger sister Cordelia very much, and has a lot of resentment against Patrizio Monty for it, but that doesn't mean he has to hate all the Montys for just one bad apple. Right?

Kent loves reading and studying and it's precisely his passion for studying, his ambition to become a teacher, that made him meet his now best friend Bianca Monty, in that library. The first person he came out to about his homosexuality.

His relationship with his family is very tense. He would like to remain on good terms with everyone, but it's difficult when his father doesn't know how to approach him without arguing over their very different views on the feud. Consort loves him but... it's just complicated, also because he knows that Kent is gay, but he doesn't know how to deal with him about it.

Goneril snubs him, so Albany does, Regan isn't sure how to feel, and Cornwall hates him with all his heart.

As I said, his nephews love him. When they were little, he babysat each of them at least once, but the children he babysat most frequently were Tybalt, Miranda, Juliette, and Hermia. Now he loves to babysit little Ariel (and that's why Ariel is bisexual, he spends too much time with uncle Kent)

For a short time, Kent helped Tybalt, Juliette, Miranda and Hermia study, but as I mentioned in anothet post, Tybalt was very stubborn, hard to understand the things he studied and the stress of tutoring him led Kent to lose all his hair (partly I think this is also the cause of the early hair loss of Caliban, Tybalt's father).

Among all his nephews, there is one in particular with whom he has a very particular relationship: Tybalt.

Tybalt initially hated his uncle Kent. He loved him as a child, but started to hate him after the fire, when he learned that his uncle was not against the Montys despite what they had done to their family. The two later became closer when Kent realized that there was something between Tybalt and Mercutio that was apparently not the hatred shown. He helped Tybalt understand why he felt so strange, opening him up to the possibility of thinking that perhaps he was homosexual and that he actually liked Mercutio.

Obviously Tybalt denied everything and reacted angrily and embarassed like a perfect tsundere but from that moment... it also gave him a lot to think about.

Kent realized he was gay when he lived in Roaring Heights. As a teenager he fell in love with a boy but their love story ended in fear that his family might find out. He only had the courage to come out to his family as an adult, returning to Veronaville.

In historical years, however, he hides it, for obvious reasons.

Cordelia Capp

Cordelia is short, the shortest among her tree big siblings. She is sweet, naive and couldn't stand the feud, she would have wanted peace instead of seeing all that hatred between the two families. Having been chosen as heir by her mother herself, this brought upon her the hatred of her sisters and to lose their affection for a horrible question of power.

She had a wonderful relationship with her parents and her older brother Kent, but unfortunately she never managed to regain the affection of her sisters Goneril and Regan, no matter how hard she tried.

Cordelia was...even quite friendly with Olivia Monty when Tybalt and Mercutio were children, but the feud then prohibited them from seeing each other.

Cordelia never wanted to use her authority as the future heir, she had never taken a stand on anything, she was a bit cowardly in some ways. She rather let her husband Caliban speak for her, let him manage everything alone, but she couldn't stand it when he scolded Tybalt without sufficient reason to make her son deserve that reproach.

Cordelia loved art, music, she played the piano, and she taught Tybalt to play that. She often lost herself thinking about things that people thought were banal, that they never stopped to observe because certain things had always existed: she loved the sea, she loved the night sky, its stars. She loved the color white, because it was purity, calm, tranquility, a blank canvas to paint on.

She was very young when she had Tybalt, but despite her young age she was a wonderful mother to her three children and wife to her husband.

And it was until the end. Because that night, when the fire had taken her husband's life, she could have easily escaped, there was time. But she didn't. Instead she took Juliette and Hermia and with her last strength she left them in the arms of their older brother Tybalt, and then returned to her husband's side, deprived of strength and oxygen, dying with him but reassured by seeing all three his children run out of that house. Away from the fire. But close to the man she loved.

Caliban Capp

Caliban is tall, but not taller than any Capp, in fact his son Tybalt, now that he has grown up, is much taller than him, having taken after his maternal grandfather Consort.

Caliban literally has two faces, and one of them is false. (And corrupted *badumtss*}

Lover of money, good at business, he immediately persuaded his father-in-law, obtaining his trust and thus the hand of his daughter, Cordelia. Cordelia was the heir, she studied to understand how business was managed, but the truth was that it was Caliban who helped his in-laws manage business. Cordelia had never lifted a finger, she didn't even know how things were going.

He comes from a... particular family. In fact, Caliban is actually a sorcerer and has often used his magic to manipulate things in the family to his liking.

As I have already said, Caliban is liked by Consort for his good business skills, but all his brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law can't stand him, they are envious of the flattery that Consort gives him. Cordelia loved him a lot, and he...he...who know. He was once jealous, thinking that Claudio had tried to charm Cordelia.

Juliette loved him, Hermia was too young to express herself and Tybalt...he had a mixed relationship with his father. Because Caliban was gentle with his daughters, but harsh and more authoritative with Tybalt. Tybalt never dared to answer him badly or disobey him, however, but he often ended up getting so nervous that he ran away nervously so as not to insult him. Tybalt loved his mother far more than his father.

Caliban showed himself as a gentleman always ready to help everyone, but his nature was much more evil, much more manipulative than... anyone could have ever imagined. And perhaps, if he hadn't died in the flames, this would have been discovered sooner or later. Perhaps, sooner or later his mask would finally fall, showing the monster he really was.

He had so many secrets.

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hephaestuscrew · 3 years

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not to like intrude but i just wanted to say i don't think you should feel bad for thinking the thing with lovelace is morally questionable. like, it WAS morally questionable, and under certain perceptions of morality it was definitely not a *good* thing to do. anyways, i think of it like, it was wrong for the dear listeners to do it, but not for the writers. does that make sense?

That totally makes sense anon, I think you're right! In my view, creating Lovelace 2.0 was probably a morally bad action on the Dear Listeners' part, but that doesn't mean it was a bad thing to happen in an overall sense. I think it is possible to judge the Dear Listeners whilst being very glad that our version of Lovelace joined the second Hephaestus crew.

And btw I never feel like people are intruding by sending me asks! Thank you for sharing your thoughts!

#(this is in response to my Dear Listeners post for the character ask meme)#Anon I feel like you put your finger on something I hadn't quite managed to formulate a thought on #So thank you #Asks #the empty man posteth

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waywardrose · 4 years

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On Babbushka

There is a group of well-known writers in the fandom who have been discouraged and put down by one of their own, Zannah - @babbushka. It happens behind the scenes in DMs. It happens in posts and tags.

In DMs, she has started conversations with seemingly innocent questions. When she doesn't receive the response she was aiming for, she diverts the conversation to criticizing and humiliating the person. She has attacked writers for tagging—or not tagging—a post in a way she deems appropriate. She has gotten into arguments over how characters were portrayed and then tried to claim victimization when the other person wouldn't knuckle under.

She will appeal to her following to attack any fan or creator who has an opinion that differs from her own. She will encourage friends to send rude anons. Those same friends will also DM the target with rude remarks.

Several creators have stopped writing altogether because of their interactions with her.

We are tired of being discouraged. We are tired of being talked down to. We are tired of being bullied. Enough is enough. Under the cut we share our stories, let the chips fall where they may. It's up to you, the reader, to decide whether to support her.

We can only warn up-and-coming writers, artists, fans, and supporters of her behavior.

Hope - @callmehopeless

The Australian bushfires of the 2019-2020 season were nightmarish—for those living through it and those witnessing. As the season went on, cries for help increased. Joaquin Phoenix used the time during his Best-Actor acceptance speech at the Golden Globes to call for unity, action, and accountability. Regardless of what we may think of him, it was a thoughtful speech.

Hope, who is an Australian, found Mr. Phoenix's message encouraging and reblogged a gifset of his speech.

That morning, Zannah made a post about Mr. Phoenix's shady past and his association with a known sexual predator. The main reason wasn't because his speech was inappropriate or not timely, but because she didn't think he should be the one to get the attention over other actors who had spoken of the bushfires during the Golden Globes.

While Hope confessed she was scared of the bushfires, scared for her loved ones, Zannah was more concerned with purity. To Zannah it was about the face of the message, not the message itself. It didn't matter that Mr. Phoenix was amplifying support for Australia, what did matter was that he had done bad things.

It was virtue signaling on Zannah's part.

Still, this remains a complicated argument. Can a person who has done bad things actually have something positive to add to a cause? Should we listen to a problematic person if they share an insight? Does it reflect poorly on us to agree with their isolated statement? Will we be canceled, too? What about the bigger picture?

In this case, the bigger picture was hundreds of homes were destroyed in the bushfires and families were displaced. People died, thousands of animals died. And it was because of climate change. Mr. Phoenix called for his rich peers to examine their respective lifestyles and to give back.

Yes, Mr. Phoenix has done bad things. Yes, he has associated with people who have done bad things. His words resonated with people on Tumblr, and they reblogged part of his speech. He said something that gave Hope hope.

Hope was asked by a third party how they could help. She came back with a resource guide for those who wanted to send aid to Australians.

When it became obvious Zannah wouldn't silence Hope, Zannah decided to sub-post about the interaction. There, she accused Hope of being a rape apologist for reblogging a gifset and finding a little comfort in it. Zannah placed her ego before someone who was facing a very real danger.

Side-eying an actor is one thing, shaming a person you know for finding solace during a scary time is another. Hope isn't responsible for which voice got picked up. The only "colors" being shown here are Zannah's. She put her own concerns about being perceived as morally pure above actually supporting a friend.

I'll keep this brief - I knew Zannah for many years. And on one of the lowest weeks of my life, when my suburb was burning down and I feared for my family: she convinced me I was a rape apologist for sharing Joaquin Phoenix's speech asking for action on bushfires. In all my life, I never felt more alone. To add insult to injury, she then posted memes mocking me - something that has stuck with me to this day.

I've had dear friends quit the fandom because of her kinkshaming. I've had people I love message me distraught over what she's said.

Enough is enough.

— @callmehopeless

Rose - @the-wayward-rose

This PM exchange started after I tagged my reblog of Zannah's fic Feast (Cameron Bistle x Reader) with cw: white reader. I had been on her taglist, and I wanted to show support because I liked the fic overall. For context, the reason for my tag is because of this sentence:

"But then you're blushing so pretty and squeezing his hand affectionately and reaching for the handle to the passenger side of his car, and then you're laughing when he swats your hand away to open it for you, and then you're beckoning him down as if to ask a question – only to place a chaste kiss to his lips instead."

This is from Cameron's point of view.

She asked the reason for the tag, and I explained it was because of the use of "blush" to describe Reader's appearance.

She misunderstood my premise. I did not mean only white people blush.

According to Merriam-Webster, blush means "a reddening of the face especially from shame, modesty, or confusion" or "a red or rosy tint."

It is an autonomic response, though. It happens in all humans for body cooling and nonverbal communication. The main problem with using it universally is that melanin obscures the appearance of said autonomic response.

Here's an example of three runners:

The two pale women, left and center, are pink in the face. They are blushing. The woman of color on the right is likely blushing, too. However, the melanin in her skin obscures the blood in her cheeks. She is not pink.

That's the pitfall of the word "blush." The observer can't always see it. We know what it feels like. We all do it. The face and/or neck gets hot. The use of "blush" is shorthand in narrative, and I understand that. Nevertheless, when writing to cater to a reader-insert audience of unknown heritage, writers need to consider describing with universal terms.

Again, she misunderstood my premise. I clarified by asking how Cameron sees the Reader blush under an abundance of melanin:

She sidestepped the physiological explanation to go straight for justification. She tried to legitimize "blush" as "perhaps [this]" or "perhaps [that]" when I stated earlier that blush by definition is pink or is to redden. That's the logic. A noncommittal, covering-all-the-bases, complicated defense diluted the conversation.

With her earlier "I have friends of color, hence I can't be exclusionary" statement, I wasn't sure she would get my point. I take full responsibility for not explaining, too. I should've asked for some time to gather my thoughts, but I didn't. Truthfully, I was unprepared, because I didn't think my insignificant tag would be an issue.

Also, I was confused why she was trying to police my blog.

Her replies came rapidly—before I could mention my confusion—and felt aggressive in the moment. Maybe that wasn't her intention, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

That doesn't take away from the fact that words have meaning. It's why we use specific words. It's not understood in the narrative that her use of "blush" could mean a bunch of things. If I had known, I wouldn't have tagged as I did. How is a reader of color supposed to know that? How does Cameron see Reader's blush if she has darker skin?

As writers, we don't know who is reading. Someone could be very pale or very dark. A person with medium-toned skin can turn a shade of pink or red. A person with darker-toned skin will not. We can't assume all readers are medium to pale. We need to develop better writing skills. We have to include everyone.

Readers of color > White-writer feelings

When I stood my ground, she doubled down, stating I made no sense in my tagging and that I lacked the ability to learn from her. She then diverted the argument, attacking a ficlet I wrote a few days beforehand—which had nothing to do with this argument. The Christian imagery in that ficlet was upsetting to her and "in such poor taste" because she headcanons Flip Zimmerman (BlacKkKlansman) is 100% culturally and ethnically Jewish.

Flip stated in the movie:

"I'm Jewish, but I wasn't raised to be. It wasn't part of my life. I never thought much about being Jewish. Nobody around me was Jewish. I wasn't going to a bunch of Bar Mitzvahs. I didn't have a Bar Mitzvah. I was just another white kid. And now I'm in some basement denying it out loud[...] I never thought much about it. Now I'm thinking about it all the time. About rituals and heritage. Is that passing? Well then, I have been passing."

By his own admission, Flip is ethnically Jewish, but not culturally. These are two separate things, and that should be recognized. While Judaism is ethnically and culturally entwined in ways that other religions are not, one does not equate the other. You can be one and not the other.

At the time, I didn't want her to sic her 3000+ followers on me. I wasn't going to argue further. I asked myself if the ficlet was important and worth anon-hate and realized, no, it wasn't. It was a throw-away.

And since I'm not culturally Jewish, maybe I had misstepped. And since Zannah is both culturally and ethnically Jewish, I asked for her guidance.

She flatly refused my request. I don't know how I was supposed to learn from her if she wouldn't teach me.

It sounded as if she wanted me to delete the whole fic. Like none of it was worth saving because it hadn't been Zannah-approved. I had gone against her headcanon, and the fic was too offensive to fix.

The last sentence was supposed to cover her back from criticism, and it placed all the responsibility on me. Obviously, she was above such petty concerns as someone else's blog or writing. Never mind that she had just attempted to get me to change my tagging system and rewrite my ficlet. On my blog.

Later, I figured out she was only criticizing and not offering a constructive critique. Her argument was not in good faith. It was retaliation for not giving her the obedience she thought she was owed.

This is the passage that offended her:

"It’s because of the way he fucks you. Like it’s confession—though he’s never been much of a church-going man. Every touch, every thrust, is a truth between you. Even when it’s rough and greedy. It feels like flagellation when you claw his back. He wears the sin proudly."

This is what I edited it to:

"It’s because of the way he fucks you. Every touch, every thrust, is a truth between you. Even when it’s rough and greedy. It feels like flagellation when you claw his back. He wears your marks proudly."

Yeah, I'm not pleased with the revised passage. It's lost its teeth, but I keep it.

The anonymous message(s) she mentioned weren't very anonymous, either. Unfortunately, I've since deleted the two messages. I had apologized to Anon for disappointing them. I said that if the fic was too much, they should unfollow and block me. I meant that in a self-care way. At the same time, I did not—and do not—owe anyone discourse. I don't have to explain my art when it doesn't hurt anyone. And no one was hurt by some purportedly misplaced religious imagery.

I have been silent about this since late January/early February. I was embarrassed. I had been bullied into changing my blog and my fic by someone who proclaims to never do anything of the sort. I had been a fool. Since this conversation with her, I have been blocked/blacklisted by third-parties, most likely at her behest, when none of this exchange had been necessary.

Kassanovella - @kylorengarbagedump

Zannah's followers have asked her about Kassanovella’s Fix Your Attitude. For context, it's currently one of the most kudo-ed fics for Kylo Ren x Reader on AO3. It had a bit of a renaissance earlier in 2020 because a TikToker wrote a song for it.

There is nothing wrong with not wanting to read a fic. If the subject matter doesn't work for a reader, they don't have to partake. Easy as that. So, these tags aren't a problem.

However, it led to this...

She lashed out, calling Kassanovella's fic a joke. A joke.

She implied her fics should be as popular as Kassanovella's because she works really hard on them. She admitted she's tied to the metrics. She implied she wouldn't be writing fic if not for the external validation.

Here's the thing about fanfic: readers like what they like. They don't care about a writer's effort. They only know what works for them. They comment and give kudos, reblog and like what they connect with. That is not under the writer's control. All a writer can do is try their best and concentrate on what they're passionate about.

To bash another writer's fic because it's popular is disrespectful. This whole bitter rant drips of entitlement and is an affront to Kassanovella.

Some time later, an incident happened in a chatroom during a streaming event for veterans by Arts In the Armed Forces (Adam Driver's organization). At least one fan brought up Fix Your Attitude while waiting for Mr. Driver to make an appearance. They were also disrespectful towards the other presenters by demanding to see Mr. Driver. It caused a big stink within the fandom, and Zannah had some choice words.

While mentioning the fic during the livestream was inappropriate, it was also inappropriate to throw all fans of the fic under the bus as she did in her tag. Sweeping generalizations and incriminations of a subset of fans certainly reads as if she resents those fans for a perceived slight.

Next, Zannah made an earlier disparaging comment about Kassanovella's fic, Little Bird. Unfortunately, that comment is lost. However, the messages supporting the comment remain. (For context, Little Bird is a Kylo Ren x Reader The Handmaid's Tale AU. It has been well received in the fandom, earning thousands of kudos on AO3.)

What an author wants to write about and sexualize is their business. Fantasizing about being dominated by Kylo Ren isn't cringe. It's a sexual fantasy. Some sexual fantasies can be disturbing to those who do not share the same kink.

Sexual fantasies are like ice cream. There's a reason why there are different flavors.

Also, "I will never ever be a person that tells an author what to do or not do" is an absolute lie. As evident in this post, Zannah most definitely tells authors what to do or not do.

Again, she bashes Kassanovella, claiming her writing isn't good. Her motivation for bashing Kassanovella can only be speculation. With Zannah's previously stated opinion of Fix Your Attitude, though, it indicates a certain level of negative emotions.

Anonymous

An anonymous person came forward with a case of Zannah policing their blog. Anon has a sideblog for their personal AU with Flip Zimmerman. They reblog gifsets and post headcanons. They were an enthusiastic fan of Zannah's and reblogged a few of the gifset she made. Anon tagged their reactions, and Zannah blocked them for it.

Anon went to Zannah and asked why they were blocked, because all they wanted to do was have fun and support fellow Flip lovers.

Anon was under the impression that because they were shipping themselves, and not Zannah, with Flip, she blocked them. Their personal AU doesn't align with Zannah's headcanon that she alone is married to this character and has his children.

While Zannah's reply may sound innocent, and perhaps it is, it also speaks to someone who has set herself up as the owner of Flip Zimmerman. (Wait until Spike Lee or the real Ron Stallworth hears about that...) It appears that if a fan does not comply with the Zannah-approved headcanon, where only she is married to Flip, that fan shall be blocked. If a fan uses tags on their blog that she does not approve of, that fan will be blocked.

Zannah's policing is disturbing. Going into a blog to look for something as a reason to block is disturbing. Any fan is allowed to use any tag on their blog how they wish. If the OP has said their post can be reblogged, how a reblogger tags is beyond the OP's control. To punish that reblogger for not behaving in a way she finds acceptable is uncalled for and unjust.

Anonymous

Backstory: Zannah does not view Ben Solo's arc in the Star Wars sequel trilogy as acceptable canon. However, she does view the story she created for Flip Zimmerman in BlacKkKlansman as completely canon.

This is not the first time she has been asked to clarify her position. Nor is it the first time she has avoided giving an on-topic response. A question asked in good faith should be responded to in kind.

If a creator doesn't want to address the issue, they can state that they don't. Deflecting from the question only muddies the waters. Fans feel dismissed. The creator feels hounded, and comes across as irritated and unapproachable. No one has a positive fandom experience.

There is nothing wrong with having a headcanon. What is wrong is Zannah mandating her headcanon for Flip on the whole fandom. As evident in this post, if a fan does not comply with her headcanon, they will be summarily blocked.

Also, there is nothing wrong with rejecting canon. Writers of transformative works have always done this. The problem is shaming fans who have accepted canon while not offering justification for that shaming. A creator saying they "can't help them" is the creator washing their hands of responsibility from articulating their thoughts when they themselves began criticizing the canon in the first place.

Again, this is a bad-faith argument. Creators can't ask for discussion and attention and then get mad when their viewpoints are challenged. Just because a discussion isn't going a creator's way doesn't mean it's an attack, either. It means people want clarification, and if one criticizes, they should be able to back up their criticisms.

While sharing our stories has been freeing, it's not our aim as fellow fans to cancel Zannah. We would hope she would take the opportunity to reflect on the damage she has done to the fandom. We hope we all can move forward with a more approachable and supportive scene.

No one person speaks for our fandom. The actions of one fan do not represent the entire fandom. Whether creator or consumer, you are welcome here.

[posted July 25, 2020]

#babbushka #reader insert #flip zimmerman x reader #kylo ren x reader

308 notes · View notes

max-is-tired · 4 years

Text

Misconceptions: A Show

Pairing: Intrulogical

Characters: Remus Sanders, Logan Sanders, Roman Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Deceit Sanders.

Words: 3.941

Warnings: sympathetic Deceit & Remus, swearing, some graphic talk bc it’s Remus, screaming in caps

Notes: Finally, I can post this monster of a fic -hey there, @princeyssash, guess who was your secret santa? This fic was honestly so much fun to write, I swear -I loved all of the prompts I had, but this one just called to me,,, I had to,,

Big thanks to @purp-man for betaing this fic for me and listening to my 3am rambles, and shoutout to @afulldeckofaces for helping me flesh out some plot points, like Virgil memeing his way through Roman’s plans. You’re the absolute best <33

Commission me!! Buy me a coffee!! My Discord server!! AO3!!

It was a normal day in the mindscape.

Patton was humming happily in the kitchen, shuffling around with a pep in his step as he mixed the batter for some cookies. In the living room, Logan and Virgil were enjoying each other’s company while doing their own thing, may it be reading or half-slouching on the couch while scrolling aimlessly through Tumblr.

Everything was peaceful.

Until it wasn’t.

“YOU DIRTY LITTLE SEWER RAT GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!!”

Everyone jumped at the sudden shout, Virgil going as far as tumbling off the couch with a startled yelp. From upstairs, Remus’ unmistakable laughter bounced on the walls, followed shortly after by the twin himself bolting down the stairs with a maniacal grin on his face.

“Oh god,” Virgil groaned from the floor, pinching the bridge of his nose, “what the fuck did he do now?”

“Language, kiddo,” Patton called, emerging from the kitchen with a confused frown on his face.

Turns out, they didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

“REMUS!!” Roman screeched, running down the stairs. He looked thoroughly pissed, eyes flashing dangerously as he glared daggers at his brother.

Virgil took one look at him, blinked, and then promptly broke down cackling.

“Stop laughing, Hot Topic!” Roman exclaimed, cheeks flushing red. Not that his blush was very noticeable, due to the various scribbles and crude drawings covering his face. “Look at what he did to my beautiful face!”

“You just don’t understand real art, brother dearest,” Remus snickered, waving the marker in his hand around.

“Oh, I’ll show you real art,” Roman muttered darkly, unsheathing his sword as he stalked down the last steps of the stairs.

At the sight of the unsheathed sword, Virgil’s eyes widened in alarm, his body tensing slightly as it became clear the situation was starting to escalate. Beside him, Logan looked at the two brothers, sighed in resignation and snapped the book in his hands shut.

“That’s quite enough, you two,” he said, staring the two brothers down with a raised eyebrow.

“Specs, he drew penises on my face! Multiple times!!”

“Which you can easily snap off with a wave of your hand,” Logan pointed out, “I do not believe there is any need for all this screaming, or for weapons to be brought into the picture.”

“Logan, you don’t understand, I gotta fight him now! For my honor!!” Roman exclaimed, waving his arms around -and therefore further proving Logan’s point by almost cutting Deceit’s head off as the side rose up to check what the commotion was about.

“Oi, watch it!” Deceit called out, ducking to avoid another accidental swipe of Roman’s sword, “who are you, Zuko?”

“If Roman’s Zuko then Logan is totally Uncle Iroh,” Virgil added, still lying on the floor.

Logan shrugged. “If we are referring to the first season of Avatar: The Last Airbender then yes, I can see the similarities.”

Roman squinted at them, finally lowering his sword. “There is an insult somewhere in that phrase. I don’t know where, but I know there is.”

“It’s because you’re a dumb-head, bro!” Remus cackled, once again calling the attention to himself.

Roman growled, looking more than ready to stalk through the room and tackle his twin to the ground, but Logan anticipated him before the situation could escalate once again.

“Remus, I believe this is quite enough,” he said, turning towards the aforementioned twin.

“Aw, but Logan, I’m just having some fun!”

Logan simply raised an eyebrow, staring him down.

“Ugh, fiiiine!” Remus finally groaned, throwing the marker somewhere behind himself, “that does not mean I’m happy about it though!”

Then, he sank out.

Peace once again established, Logan hummed and leaned back on the couch, going back to reading his book.

Or at least that was the plan.

“What the fuck just happened?” Virgil asked, staring at him in disbelief.

“Virgil, language!!”

“Sorry Padre, but I gotta agree with Cout Woelaf here,” Roman said, sword laying limp in his grip, “that was nothing less but weird.”

“I honestly do not understand where all of this apparent confusion is coming from,” Logan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You told Remus to stop!” Roman exclaimed, throwing his arms up, “and he listened to you!!”

“Roman, your sword!” Deceit hissed in frustration, having had to duck for the third time to avoid being cut in tiny scaley pieces. “If you don’t put it down this instant I might just try and stab you with it, do not try me.”

Roman grumbled but complied, making the sword disappear with a wave of his hand. Then, he crossed his arms, looking once again towards the logical side. “My point still stands though. Remus never listens to anyone, like, ever.”

“Yeah, I think I have to agree with them here Lo,” Patton said, still standing under the kitchen’s doorway, “that was a little weird.”

“Well, I do not know what to tell you,” Logan countered, “I asked him to stop, he complied and then sank out -it’s as simple as that.”

“If you say so,” Roman said, squinting at him in suspicion.

From the other side of the room, Deceit gave him A Look, appearing to be torn between amusement and concern. Logan subtly raised an eyebrow in response, making sure the others would not notice their silent exchange.

After all, it wasn’t like he could just tell them the truth, could he?

+++

When Logan finally sank up in his room, sometime later, he was not surprised to see a very familiar side sprawled on his bed, head hanging from the side of the mattress as he threw a tiny dagger up and down in the air.

“Lolo!!” Remus grinned, spotting him, “took you a while, I was starting to get bored!”

“I wanted to finish this novel first,” Logan said, putting the book in question back to its place in his large library, “it was rather interesting.”

“You know what would be interesting?” Remus asked, not looking away from the other as he kept playing with his dagger, “to find out what would happen if this dagger hit me in the eye!! Do you think it would reach all the way to my brain?”

“I suppose it would,” Logan hummed, sitting beside the creative side and quickly catching the dagger out of the air when Remus threw it again, “but between proving that hypothesis and spending the rest of the day with my not-injured husband, I think I prefer the second option more.”

“Oh really?” Remus grinned, sitting up -a slim silver chain fell out of his shirt with the movement, the golden ring hanging from it twinkling in the light of the room. “And tell me, how would you like to spend that time, my dear?”

Logan hummed, the light pressure of his own ring hiding under his shirt bringing a smile to his face. “Oh, I’m sure my dear husband will have some ideas of his own to share.”

“Oh, you are wicked,” Remus said, before leaning in to capture Logan’s lips in a kiss.

+++

For a while, it seemed like whatever had happened in the living room had been forgotten -the others were still confused by how easy it was for Logan to make Remus listen to him, but most of them waved it off as Logic easily overpowering Intrusive Thoughts with rationality and all that shit.

(Deceit knew better than that, but that was mostly because lying to him was next to impossible and Logan had been smart enough to let him in on their secret as soon as it had started to become a serious thing, both to help the couple lie to the other sides and to avoid him finding out on his own and potentially jeopardizing their cover.)

Point is, no one had yet discovered the real reason between the apparent chemistry between the two sides. But that didn’t mean they weren’t starting to notice things.

The first one to start suspecting something was, surprisingly enough, Virgil.

He had been sneaking to the kitchen around 3am, planning to grab a quick snack from the pantry and then tip-toe back to his own room, all the while hoping not to alert anyone of his nighttime escapade -he had already been at the receiving end of several stern talks about his fucked-up sleeping schedule and did not want to have to sit through another one, thank you very much.

What he had not been expecting, was to find himself staring at Logan’s back, the logical side looking busy filling two mugs with steaming water.

Virgil froze on his tracks, eyes wide in alarm as he tried to figure out how to sneak back out of the kitchen and up the stairs without being noticed. Unfortunately, Logan seemed to have other ideas and turned around before the anxious side could make up his mind about the next course of action.

“Uh,” Logan said, blinking in surprise, “hello, Virgil. I have to be honest, I was not expecting to meet anyone at this hour of the night.”

“Likewise, I guess,” Virgil shrugged, giving the other a tiny smile, “why are you up at this hour anyway? Weren’t you the one waxing poetry about the importance of a regular sleep schedule?”

“I got sidetracked, I guess. One late night won’t harm me in any way or form, I assure you.”

Virgil snickered. “I’m telling Patton you said that.”

“I don’t think you will,” Logan countered, calm as ever as he put down the kettle and moved to grab the two cups, “because if you do I will tell Patton about you sneaking into the kitchen at 3am with, as it appears, not a single ounce of sleep in your body.”

“... harsh, L. Real harsh.”

“Just stating facts,” Logan said, before walking out of the kitchen.

Virgil stared after him, watching the logical side leisurely cross the living room and walk up the stairs until he could not see him anymore. Then, he shrugged, quickly walking to the pantry and grabbing the snack he had come for.

He straightened up, holding triumphantly a bag of chips, only to freeze up again when a tiny detail finally struck him.

“Wait, why the fuck did he have two mugs?”, he wondered, turning back to glance at the stairs. Then, he turned towards the kitchen counter, noticing a little bag sitting just to the side of where Logan had been standing just a few seconds before.

“Kuding Tea” read the caption on the front of the bag, the inside filled with slim, dark tea nails.

Virgil frowned, rolling the name around in his head. He was sure he had heard it before, but where?

+++

The second one was Roman.

He had been strolling idly around the Imagination, humming a song under his breath as he walked along a path in the woods. Of course, his guard wasn’t completely down, not now that he was so near Remus’ side of the Imagination -while his relationship with his brother had greatly improved in the last year or so, he was still very much aware of the dangerous creatures lurking in his brother’s domain, and Roman had no desire to be caught by surprise by one of them.

Could you imagine the teasing, if Remus ever were to find out?

So yeah, he was still being very attentive to his surroundings -that’s probably half of the reason why he found himself hesitating when what sounded like distant laughter reached his ears.

Roman stilled, focusing on his surroundings. But all he could hear was silence, and after a few more seconds he was about ready to shrug it off to his imagination.

Then, the same, faint sound echoed from somewhere in the forest.

Curious, Roman started following the sound, watching his steps as his hand moved to hover over the handle of his sword -better be safe than sorry, he figured.

It didn’t take long for him to reach his destination, the forest receding just a few feet in front of him to make room for a vast, lush clearing. What he found, however, was something he could have never fathomed.

In the middle of the clearing, sitting on the grass in front of each other, were Remus and Logan, looking way too engrossed in their own conversation to notice the stunned prince staring at them from just behind a tree.

Remus seemed to be showing Logan something, looking completely enraptured by whatever Logan was saying.

The logical side was talking animatedly, waving his hands around with a grin as he occasionally gestured to something sitting between them. And Remus, well, he was staring at Logan with an expression Roman was pretty sure he’d never seen on his twin’s face.

He was looking at Logan like he was the sole holder of every secret of the universe, like he was everything he could see and hear.

He looked absolutely, utterly smitten, and Roman did not know what to do with that information.

+++

For Patton, well, it was more of a gradual realization.

He may not be the smartest in the group, but he was not by any means an idiot. He had noticed right away the potential chemistry between the two sides, the way Logan never seemed to be fazed by Remus’ shenanigans or the way Remus seemed to enjoy poking fun at the logical side.

Initially, he had not been very thrilled about it. But as time went on and they started to get closer to the dark sides, he could see how those two being friends could be highly beneficial for everyone, Remus and Logan included.

And he thought that was all it was -a blossoming friendship!

But the more time passed, the more Patton started to realize how that wasn’t exactly the case.

He didn’t know what initially tipped him off, really. Maybe it was the shared glances when one of them thought the other wasn’t looking, or the smile both of the sides seemed to fight down when in the presence of the other.

Maybe it was the subtle change in Logan’s demeanor, the way he’d grown calmer, happier, metaphorically softer around the edges ever since he and Remus had started growing closer.

Something was starting to bloom between the two sides, and Patton was not so sure it was a simple, innocent friendship anymore.

+++

Things came to a head one fateful Saturday afternoon, with Logan stuck revising schedules with Thomas and Remus doing who-knows-what in the Imagination.

The other sides were all lounging in the living room, all doing their own thing.

Then, Roman spoke up.

“Do you guys think something’s going on between Remus and Logan?”

Virgil, who was very much not expecting to hear something like that in the foreseeable future, jumped up from where he had been sprawled on the couch, headphones hanging limp from his neck as he stared wide-eyed at the creative side.

“Please tell me you’re not implying what I think you are implying.”

Roman shrugged, looking away as he scratched the base of his neck. “I don’t know what to tell you, Panic! At The Everywhere -I’m just asking.”

“If I have to be completely honest, actually,” piped up Patton from his place on the floor, stopping the episode of Parks & Rec they had been using as a background, “I have noticed some strange things too.”

“Right??” Roman exclaimed, “I saw them in the Imagination, last week, and I swear to god at one point Remus’ expression almost rivaled the way Logan usually looks at a jar of Crofters.”

“Whoa there Princey,” Virgil said, “don’t you think you’re exaggerating a little?”

“I know what I saw, J.D-lightful.”

“And I think Logan could be developing some feelings for Remus, even if he probably hasn’t quite realized it yet,” Patton added.

Virgil went to argue, but suddenly a realization struck him.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered in shock, suddenly looking like he was reevaluating everything he’d ever known.

“What?” Roman asked, confused.

“I caught Logan down in the kitchen, the other day,” Virgil explained, “he was brewing two cups of tea -which I found rather strange, really, but it was something like 3am so I didn’t question it too much. But I saw the name of the tea he brewed, and it felt familiar but I didn’t connect the dots until now.”

“Well?” Roman prompted, “We’re on the edge of our seats here, Marilyn Morose.”

“It was Kuding Tea, aka Remus’ favorite,” Virgil revealed. “He made us brew it all the time, and he was the only one able to drink that stuff because it’s one of the most bitter things you could ever try to swallow.”

Patton hummed, looking deep in thought. “Looks like those two might be closer than we thought.”

Roman grinned, something akin to mischief glinting in his eyes. “How about we help them grow just a little bit closer, uh?”

“We can discuss all of that later, Ro, but first there’s another thing we need to talk about,” Patton said, before turning to look at Virgil with a stern look on his face. “Virgil Sanders, what’s this I hear about you being up at 3am again?”

(Engrossed as they were in the new revelations, none of the sides noticed the tiny smirk stretching on Deceit’s face as he watched the scene unfold. He could have tried to stop them from trying to meddle, sure.

But where would be the fun in that?)

+++

As it turned out, not a single one of the sides’ plans came even close to its goal.

First came Patton’s idea, which was arguably the most subtle. They set up a family dinner, pestering the two sides until they confirmed their presence at the table. Then, very last minute, everyone gave random excuses as to why they couldn’t come. Everyone was sure it would work, even if they didn’t stick around to find out -knowing Remus’s tendency to make things rather… spicy, they didn’t want to find out what would happen after the two finally confessed their feelings.

However, when, the day after, they asked Logan how the dinner had gone, the logical side simply leveled them with a confused stare.

“Since you all weren’t there we just agreed to bring the food back to our rooms and keep doing our work -I still had some possible scripts to read through so it worked just fine for me.”

So, it looked like plan A had been a failure.

Roman, in all of his finesse and “romantic prowess” (his exact words), decided to put his own plan in action -which consisted of not-so-subtly shoving the two sides in the same room and “accidentally” break the doorknob, effectively trapping them inside.

(“Wow, a true Cupido alright.”

“Oh, shut up, you Emo Nightmare.”)

However, Roman’s incredible, astonishing, foolproof plan (again, his exact words) did not account for one specific aspect, aka Remus’ tendency of not letting puny, material things like doors keep him trapped.

In less than five minutes, the two sides were free once again, easily sidestepping what little remained of the door with Remus still holding his morning star in his hands.

And just like that, plan B joined its predecessor down the metaphorical toilet.

Last came Virgil’s plan, which was quite different from the other two’s -it was succinct, concise, and the farthest thing from subtle you could ever think of.

“Hey L,” he called one day, not even looking up from his phone, “what if you went and kissed Remus?”

Logan slowly looked up from his book. “... I apologize, what?”

Virgil shrugged, smirking. “Don’t worry, I’m just kidding. Unless…?”

Logan blinked at him, looking thoroughly confused. “Virgil, are you unwell? How many hours of rest did you get last night?”

And that’s how plan C joined its sibling down in the metaphorical sewer.

(“Your plan was a meme??”

“At least I didn’t try to cliché them into a relationship, Princey.”)

Point is, by the end of the week the three sides had still to come up with a tactic that could actually work. So, they planned another brainstorm question in the living room.

Only, they appeared to have greatly miscalculated Remus and Logan’s whereabouts.

“Alright, you guys want to share with the class what the fuck is going on already?”

The three sides jumped in unison, whipping their heads around to stare at the two sides standing at the bottom of the stairs. Remus was leaning on the railing, looking at them expectantly, while Logan was standing just beside him with his arms crossed in front of his chest, one single eyebrow raised in a silent question.

“Uuuuuh…” Patton spoke up, looking at the other two in search of help, “language?”

“Pat, I think my language is the least of our problems now,” Remus retorted, refusing to drop the subject, “so, who wants to start talking first?”

The three sides, who looked like three deers caught in the headlights, seemed to grow more panicked by the second, searching for a possible explanation and coming up empty-handed.

“We found out you guys have a crush on each other and wanted to help you two get together!” Roman finally blurted.

“Roman!” Virgil growled, turning to glare at the creative side.

“I’m sorry!” Roman squeaked, throwing his arms up in frustration.

“You could have been a little more… tactful about it, kiddo,” Patton said, smiling nervously as they all waited with bated breath what the two’s reactions would be.

Logan and Remus blinked, dumbfounded. Then, they turned to look at each other, before Remus decided that the best course of action was, of course, to break down into hysterical giggles, compete with wheezing and tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

As for Logan, well, he limited himself to chuckling, looking downright amused by the whole situation.

So yeah, not exactly the reactions the others were expecting.

“... what?” Virgil asked, “please tell me I’m not the only confused one right now.”

“Apologies, Virgil,” Logan said, as Remus kept merrily cackling his lungs out on the floor, “we just thought something serious was going on, since you have all been acting strangely during the last week or so. Discovering that the reason behind your strange behavior was that, well, is rather amusing.”

“Wait, is that your way of telling us you actually don’t like Remus?” Roman said.

“Actually, I do like him, in a romantic sense,” Logan chuckled, throwing a fond look at the side wheezing on the ground. “We have been engaged in a romantic relationship for a while now.”

“... I know I probably sound like a broken record but what?”

“He wants to tap this booty, Vee!” Remus cackled, “and I’m 100% down for that!”

“ By the horn of a unicorn, please spare us the details,” Roman muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“So that means you guys are already in a relationship?!” Patton exclaimed, a wide grin on his face as he clapped his hands in obvious delight, “oh my gosh, that’s so cute! I’m so happy for you guys!!”

“I don’t know if I want to be angry because you guys didn’t tell us or because my brother somehow managed to score a boyfriend before me,” Roman grumbled.

Logan and Remus shared a glance at that, mischief twinkling in both of their eyes. Then, once it appeared they were both on the same page, Remus spoke, barely stopping himself from giggling in anticipation.

“Actually we’re married, but go off I guess.”

Silence fell, seconds ticking by as the news started to sink in.

“Now hold on a second you guys aRE WHAT-”

And then, chaos.

#sanders sides #intrulogical #lomus #remus sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #swearing #caps #intrulogical fluff #lomus fluff #ts fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #maxiswriting

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consumedkings-archive · 3 years

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ancient names, pt. xxi

A John Seed/Original Female Character Fanfic

Ancient Names, pt xxi: what went we

Masterlink Post

Word Count: 15.3k

Rating: Explicit: sexual content ahead.

Warnings: mentions of self-harm, some slight gore/blood (it's very mild), the aforementioned sexually explicit content.

Notes: Hi guys. I don't really know where to begin this post, because I am incredibly emotional. It feels so very fitting and special to me that I am bringing in the last chapter of Ancient Names just as 2021 rolls in, and so yes, I AM crying, yes, this WILL be an exceptionally sappy notes section, and yes, this is going to be all about you!

There are so many people that are in part responsible for this fic actually getting finished and put out where the world can see it. @empirics, whose unending support even when she doesn't even GO here and cheerleading me through writing sprints; @lilwritingraven, who is so sweet, so supportive, so incredible and just an overall gigantic sweetheart; @faithchel, whose tags are incredible and always just give me LIFE, I love that our girls be out here really feral like that; @shallow-gravy, who not only lends me her eyeballs but also lets me complain and whine, send her memes nonstop, and participates in my very elaborate fantasies of Elliot and Diana living out their lives as dog moms on a farm (and sometimes in our unholy OT3); @baeogorath, also an eyeball-lender, also incredibly sweet, ALSO lets me send them memes, and does so good in talking me down from my adrenaline anxiety pre-posting and post-posting, was the first person to welcome me into this fandom and is also just a dear, dear friend who happens to be incredibly talented. And, of course, @starcrier. As always, this would have never ever ever been possible without you, not even a little bit, not even at all. From the bottom of my heart, to every single one of you, and the people who have left kudos, have left comments: thank you thank you thank you, from the absolute bottom of my heart. Here is ALL my love, just for you!

The emotional journey of writing this fic has been an incredible one. And a taxing one. Elliot is a character near and dear to my heart for many reasons; I pour so much of my heart into her, so when I hear people say that they love her, and love this journey, and love these things that I've created and written, I mean it when I say that it makes my whole entire day. It means so much to me. Thank you.

In the essence of time, I will not go through all of the feelings that are in my brain right now because there are SO many and I am already crying lol. Please just know you have made the experience of joining a new fandom, and writing in it, so incredible!

There is going to be an epilogue following this chapter, and then I'm going to take a short break and start in on a sequel fic, tentatively titled Witching Hour. Please feel free to hang out/chat w me/plague me with your thoughts at any time of the day; I would love to visit with all of y’all!

John was lying to her.

Or, at the very least, he was withholding information from her, which was just about as bad as lying, Elliot thought. She didn’t know what exactly he wasn’t forthcoming about—but did it matter, at this point? She could tell he was lying; he’d been all kinds of ready to leave and go and get out of Hope County, and now he was scrounging up some kind of ass-pull reason for them to stay. So did it matter? Did the distinction count?

Yes, she thought absently, as John’s fingers traced slow, lazy circles along the small of her back. Yes, I have to know what he’s lying to me about.

“Good morning,” John murmured against her neck. “How did you sleep?”

It had been three days since her baptism-gone-awry, three days of Burke occupying the bunkhouse she had been in while she had wordlessly moved into John’s space, three days of avoiding eye contact with the marshal and deferring questions about him. I don’t know, I really only knew him for a day, she’d say when John asked, or does it matter if I told him? He wouldn’t get it, the unspoken words being ‘not like you do’. She hoped, anyway.

Three days of trying to figure out what it was John wasn’t telling her.

“Like shit,” she replied tiredly as his mouth trailed along the curve of her shoulderblade. The pressure of his fingers against her sternum had her rolling onto her back to look up at him; his gaze swept over the exposed skin.

“Bruising’s clearing up,” he said, his voice low and rough from sleep. But he didn’t elaborate; he didn’t say, should we reveal your sin today, my love? the way that she thought he would try. It felt as though the gears in her head were still sluggishly turning, trying to piece together the entire picture of what was going on, a picture that she felt like John didn’t want her to see.

She knew exactly how it would go if she asked. What’s the game? she’d say, and John would look at her with those eyes, and lean in to kiss her, and he’d say, no game, hellcat, and she’d have to believe him because she didn’t have any empirical evidence that he was lying to her. Just a feeling, deep in her gut, twisting and wrenching.

It made it worse to know that John was looking at her with adoration.

Trailing a lazy circle below her collarbone with his fingertips, John asked, “Do you want to do it today?” and she stifled a sigh.

“I don’t know yet, about staying,” she replied, even though she did know: she wouldn’t. She would die before she crawled into a stupid fucking bunker at the behest of Joseph Seed. “I want to wait.”

John’s eyes flickered a little at her words, but he nodded. Elliot reached up, catching her hand with his and skimming the pads of her thumbs along his palm. The words sat there on the tip of her tongue: what aren’t you telling me? Why can’t you just tell me? Haven’t we been through enough, the two of us?

“Your heartline,” Elliot said instead, forcing her voice into playfulness because she couldn’t stop thinking about how Burke had told her to carry on as she had been. “Have you ever had your palm read?”

“No,” he answered amusedly, letting her nail skim along the curve of the line on his palm. “Are you an expert in palmistry?”

“My mama used to entertain tarot cards and palm readers with her ladies,” she replied. “So I listened in a lot. I suppose it isn’t very Godly to have your palm read.”

“It isn’t.” John’s eyes glittered. “But go ahead and tell me what mine says.”

She shifted a little against the pillows. On the floor by her side of the bed, Boomer let out a long, suffering sigh—like he was tired of listening to this flirtation already. For a small second in time, that feeling of peace swept over her, and she let herself bask in it. Elliot thought that she deserved that much at least.

“Your heartline shows your personality, and your quality of love,” she explained, skimming her finger along his heartline. “Yours comes all the way over, see? All the way across your palm.”

“Is that good?”

“Very,” Elliot said somberly. “It shows you have an abundance of love, and high expectations.”

John worked his jaw a little, clearly trying not to smile like he was proud of himself—like he had any control over the lines of his palm and how they worked. “I could have told you that.”

“And it curves upward,” she continued. “Which means you have great verbal dexterity.”

“I could have also told you that.”

“Undoubtedly,” she deadpanned. “Are you going to let me finish my reading?”

He flashed his teeth at her in a grin. “Please,” he said, “continue.”

Elliot clicked her tongue, turning her attention back to his hand. Inspecting for a moment, she said, “You have a upward split here, you see? That means you’re willing to sacrifice a lot for love.”

John rumbled his agreement at the statement and leaned down, kissing her shoulder.

“And these little forks here,” she added, pressing her thumb against them, “indicates a dispute on marriage.” Her eyes lifted to his, playful. “Are you intending on marrying, John? Palm says that’s a bad idea.”

For a second, John stared at her—his eyes fluttered, and he looked like he was collecting himself. Elliot sat up a little, frowning, but when she did it seemed to trigger whatever it was that was needed for him to come back to being present. Interlacing their fingers together, he pulled her forward and kissed her; and kissed her, and kissed her, until her lungs ached and she thought she was getting dizzy from not being able to take a full breath. His free hand slid down between her legs; when her lips parted to allow her to whimper, John’s teeth caught her lower lip with bruising force.

Already, heat was pooling in the pit of her stomach. Already, she could feel those telltale signs of desire, the way that John inspired it in her with just a few simple gestures.

“Want you,” John said against her mouth, guiding her onto him, settling her on his lap. Something was wrong, something she’d said had struck a strange nerve in him; but undeniably, it felt good, that his hands were trembling whenever his grip on her lessened a little. It felt good, because it felt like he needed her.

“Reading my palm is a cute trick, but—”

“How badly?” Elliot asked, before she could stop herself. John’s eyes, dark with want, raked over her as the sheets bunched at her hips. When she rocked her hips against his inquisitively, a low, strangled noise came out of him. “How badly do you want me?”

“You’re—in a mood,” John managed out. He opened his mouth to keep talking—something insufferable, Elliot was sure—but as he did, she adjusted and sank down against him, drawing out of him a low, vicious moan. His fingers dug into her hips and he hissed, “Wicked thing.”

She slid him out of her, and he groaned, miserable.

“How badly?” she asked again, less cloying this time. There was a strange kind of satisfaction that wound up in her, hot and humid, when John let her do this—let her take, let her sink her nails and her teeth into him wherever and however she wanted. Like he knew exactly what it was she needed and didn’t mind giving it to her.

Liar, something inside of her said, he’s a fucking liar, there’s something he isn’t telling us, but then John looked at her and said, “So badly, more than anything, Elliot,” and her chest tightened.

Her fingers found his shoulder and she tugged him up into a sitting position. Her mouth found his; she tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled just as their hips slotted together and she sighed his name in a hitching breath. The delicious burn was almost enough to fizz her focus out of existence—with so little sleep on her agenda, it was hard enough, but then she canted her hips wantingly and sparks of red-hot pleasure went racing up her spine.

“So. Fucking. Tight,” John ground out, burying his face against her neck. “Can’t believe you’re mine, El—can’t—after all of this—”

Elliot’s lashes fluttered at his words, the uneasy sprint of happiness making her stomach churn. Something else, though, wrenched around the cavity of her chest—those words. Can’t believe you’re mine.

“John,” she managed out, breathless, “I—”

“—and I’m yours.” John kissed her and guided her hips down against him until she was moaning unsteadily. “Fuck, yes, I’m—all yours, baby, just take w-what you—need from me, give you anything, anything—”

I’m all yours, he said, in the same breath as can’t believe you’re mine, and it shouldn’t have but it felt different: in that moment, having John buried into her up to the hilt and digging his fingers into her skin and sighing her name, it shouldn’t have felt different, but it did. It did, because they belonged to each other.

Her fingers tightened in his hair, on his shoulder. She thought, he’s a liar, and she thought, I’m so afraid of losing him, too, and she thought, we belong to each other.

“Please,” Elliot moaned, but she didn’t know what she was asking for; to finish, to hear him say it again, to hear him say more, to tell her the complete and absolute truth? Did it matter, anymore?

It does matter. The distinction matters.

So she said, “You’re mine,” and she kissed him, and she said it again, and again, like a prayer; until John was saying it back, feverish and panting the delicious words against her skin, I’m yours, I’m yours, all yours.

Wicked, and wretched, and maybe a liar, but all hers.

Later, tangled together in bed, John pulled her flush against him and said against her skin, “Don’t you want it, too?”

“I do,” Elliot murmured, knowing that he was talking about the Wrath he was going to put into her skin. “There’s just... A lot after that, to think about. And I know you’ll want an answer right away—”

“Is it that hard?” he asked. “To make a decision about staying or leaving?”

“What the fuck kind of question is that?”

John frowned. “I just—”

“You just want me to say yes to whatever it is you want,” Elliot snapped. “I’d like to remind you that you told me we’d go as soon as this was done.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “I know, Elliot. I’m just—”

And then he paused, like something wanted to come out of him that he didn’t want to say, like he’d caught himself before he’d make a fool of himself. All this time, and Elliot thought she’d never see John vulnerable, not really in the way that she wanted—he’d seen her crying and broken and grieving, and she’d seen him in intimate glimpses, but not completely.

“You’re just what?” she asked, brows pulling together.

John’s fingers traced along her sternum, spelling out WRATH, much like he had done that evening at her mother’s house.

“They’re my family,” he said after a moment. “He gave me everything.”

Something uncomfortable twisted in her chest. “I know.”

“That includes you, too.” John leaned down and kissed her shoulder. “He brought me you. I know you don’t believe, hellcat, but if nothing happens then what did we lose? Nothing. I just get to keep my family.”

Her lashes fluttered, exhaustion seeping over her bones again. It was late into the morning, but already she wanted to close her eyes.

“I told you before,” she whispered. “I told you. You can’t have both. You can’t put one foot in both worlds, John.”

His mouth pressed into a thin line. He ducked his head against her neck and kissed there, and she thought about what he’d said that night in the bar.

Outside of my loyalty to Joseph, there’s you, and I want both.

I want you too, Elliot.

We can have a place to belong.

She thought about Jerome’s voice over the radio. You don’t have to Atlas this thing, deputy.

She thought about Joey, holding her tight. I never doubted you’d be able to get me.

She thought about how, at twenty-five, she had to bury her best friend in the fucking ground.

John was lying to her about something. He wasn’t telling her everything, and maybe she had always known that it would be like this, between them: maybe, down in the marrow of her bones, she had always known they would end up at odds with each other, John trapped between two worlds that he wanted and neither side willing to budge.

Something has to be done, she thought tiredly, as John’s fingers smoothed along her hip, and I’m going to have to fucking do it.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“You’ve gotta get them out of here, Rook.”

Burke’s words stayed there, lingering in the air between them. It was late in the afternoon, and John was with his brothers and Faith in the chapel, and she’d ducked into Burke’s bunkhouse between guard shifts to grab a quick word with him. As soon as she told him that John had been pushing to get her sin revealed sooner than the original week he’d told her, Burke’s frown had deepened.

“They’re planning on getting it over with and getting the fuck out,” he said, pacing the tiny bunkhouse room. “There’s no way I’m getting to that radio with them all here. They think the world’s going to end, and that they need to be in their bunkers to survive it. If they get locked in there, Elliot, then—”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to get them all out of here,” she replied irritably. “You do realize that I’m only—John’s the only—”

Burke waved his hand to stop her from elaborating. He’d made it clear that he didn’t want to discuss the nature of her relationship with John beyond what the base information: they had indulged in a physical relationship, and an emotional one, and now Elliot’s priorities included him. As best they could.

“He wants to do the… Ceremony,” Elliot continued, mouth twisting around the only word she could think to say without making it macabre, “soon. And I just think that if I push it all the way out, then it’ll stir up suspicion, after I told him I wanted to—”

“What if you didn’t?”

She blinked at him. “What?”

“What if you didn’t push it out?” Burke continued, slowly, pitching his voice quieter and more urgent when he noticed movement outside. “What if you asked for it to be done sooner? But just—somewhere else? Not here? Make up something about how you don’t have good memories here, and…”

“And ask for his family to be there,” Elliot finished, “so that they have to leave you here?”

Burke nodded. His gaze darted to the window again, and she knew that they were running out of time. “You’ll still be guarded.”

“I can handle a few of these fuckers,” he replied, waving his hand. “Most of them are scattered out, getting supplies. I hear them complaining about it outside all the time. I’ll get that radio, see if I can hear any chatter, and tell them where to find you. ”

I need more time, she thought, but she knew that she wouldn’t get it. Not now. Her deadline had been set for her—by Joseph, by John, and even a little bit by Burke. She was this close to being done, to being—

Free.

“Okay,” she said. “Okay, yes, I can do that. I’ll ask them to take me to the ranch, and—I can do that.”

“I know,” Burke said, and he had never sounded more confident; he planted his hands on her shoulders and looked at her, the clarity having returned from his Bliss-induced high. He hesitated, and then said, “The ceremony—”

“We don’t have to talk about it.”

“I want you to know,” he plunged on, “it doesn’t matter, but I want you to know that you aren’t… That isn’t all of who you are.” His hands squeezed shoulders, the pressure welcoming and comforting and nauseating all at once. How strange, that kindness sickened her, now. “Wrath.”

Elliot paused, swallowing thickly. “I should go,” she said, because Burke still didn’t know what she’d done to Kian, still didn’t know the full extent of her body count or the way she’d felt when she killed a man. How it felt good, now—satisfying, an instant hit of dopamine centered around control.

“The back window,” Burke said, gesturing. “So the guards don’t wonder.”

“It’s all very exciting,” Elliot added. She tried for lightness, pushing the window up. “Subterfuge.”

“Just try not to say that where anyone can hear you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“We’ve nearly collected the last of the supplies,” Joseph said, pacing absently back and forth. “How long do you think, Jacob?”

“A day, at most,” the redhead replied. “They’re working quickly, without all of these interruptions.” Jacob paused, and then turned his gaze at John. His mouth twisted for a moment, and John could tell his older brother was trying not to smile when he continued, “What’s your timeline, John?”

“The same,” John replied tightly.

“A day at most?”

“No, the same as before,” he clarified, even though he knew Jacob was doing it on purpose. “You gave me a timeline and that’s what I’m working with.”

“It’s just, you sounded very confident about your ability to wrangle the deputy,” his eldest brother continued, “and you’ve always been an overachiever.”

Joseph was looking at him expectantly. John knew that they wanted him to say that Elliot had insisted on doing it sooner, that she’d fully acquiesced to staying with him, that he had fully convinced her, down to every molecule of her being, that what they were doing was right and just and undeniably truthful.

But he hadn’t. Their conversation this morning only proved that more to him. You can’t have both, she’d said, like she still thought of herself as a separate entity from him, from his family. But she wasn’t; where else would she find people who would accept her, unconditionally?

Well, mostly unconditionally. There was one condition: believing. The most difficult one for her, he thought.

“I can spend more time with her,” Faith supplied, helpfully. “Maybe she’s tired of being around you boys all the time. You can be...” Her gaze flickered, and she tilted her chin a little, smiling. “A little heavy-handed. It’s possible that a lighter touch is necessary to bring the deputy around.”

“First, you should stop calling her that,” John pointed out, and he felt a little more than petulant saying it. It hadn’t escaped his attention that Elliot was naturally inclined to open up to Faith more easily, and he shouldn’t have been surprised, but it did still bother him, sitting right in the back of his mind. Always away but never forgotten. “Continuing to refer to her as “the deputy” is only going to further cement her ties to her past life.”

“Well,” Jacob demurred, “we can’t all call her baby, can we, John?”

“If you have a problem with me enjoying the marital bed,” John bit out, “then I think perhaps you spend some time reflecting inwardly on why that’s such a—”

The door to the chapel creaked as it was pushed open. Swallowing back his words quickly, he turned and glanced over his shoulder to see Elliot, hesitating in the doorway. Boomer lingered just behind her, sat at the bottom of the stairs, ever obedient.

“I can come back,” she said, sounding uncertain.

“Not at all,” Joseph replied, before John could tell her maybe that would be best. “Please, come in.”

She did, letting the door swing shut behind her, and moved tentatively toward the front. He wondered how it felt for her—coming in here, with all of them looking at her, much the same way she had the day that set the events in motion that brought her back to them.

John wondered, too, if Joseph had known this all along; if the things that he heard and saw had shown him that Elliot would always come back here, to them. Our deputy, he’d always said, without fail.

“I want to do it,” Elliot said, as she approached. “Soon. As soon as possible.”

Silence reigned supreme for a moment, before John said, “That’s great, Elliot. We can get started with—”

“But I don’t want to do it here,” she interrupted, bringing John’s mouth to a full stop.

“More fucking demands,” Jacob muttered under his breath.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Joseph said, watching her curiously. The way they had been, he was the closest to Elliot, with a table separating her from John. His fingers itched. “If you’re worried about the safety of it, I am sure John is more than equipped to—”

“This is supposed to be cleansing, isn’t it?” Elliot asked. “Regardless of how you feel, Joey’s body was put on display here. I don’t want this to be the place where I...”

Her voice trailed off, and her gaze darted elsewhere, mouth pressing into a thin line. John said, “I don’t think going somewhere else would be a problem. Where did you have in mind?”

“The ranch,” she replied, sounding relieved. “Feels fitting.”

As John stifled a smile, Joseph said, “Well, we’ll need to clear out the bodies, but I’m sure that can be done.”

“That’s manpower,” Jacob protested.

“You were just talking about how quickly they were getting things done,” John replied. “Weren’t you? Ahead of schedule. Over-achieving, I think.”

Jacob’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click and grind of his molars, and for once, John felt a sweeping thrill of victory. It was coming together, right there, in front of him—in front of his brothers, and Faith. All of the witnessing the fruits of his labor.

“Fine,” Jacob acquiesced, at last. “But it’ll take them a few hours.”

“Perfect.” John smiled, looking at Elliot across the table, Joseph’s figure nearly eclipsing her. “Then Elliot and I will head out as soon as we hear that the bodies have been properly disposed of.”

“There’s one more thing,” Elliot began, looking uncertain, and drawing all eyes back to her again even as Joseph had moved to place his hand on Faith’s shoulder. When they had watched expectantly for long enough, she continued, “I want—everyone there.”

“Everyone?” John asked, the word souring in his mouth.

“Not—of Eden’s Gate. Just… All of you,” she elaborated.

John could feel the surprise, bubbling fresh and unexpected, between his siblings as they exchanged glances.

“Even me?” Jacob asked, and John saw the grin splitting across his face.

“Even you,” Elliot replied, dryly. “Against my better judgment, I’m sure.”

“I’m touched, honey.”

Clearing his throat, John walked around the table briskly, muttering a quick excuse us as he guided Elliot away from the front of the chapel and down the walkway a little.

“You want my family there?” he asked, keeping his voice low as his siblings chatted quietly amongst themselves. Jacob was grinning wolfishly, looking very pleased with himself, which was something John didn’t necessarily like. “Normally, it’s more of a—a private affair, and that’s how I pictured it with you—”

“This is important to me,” Elliot said, watching him. “And they’re important to you. Aren’t they?”

John swallowed. “Well, yes, but…”

“John,” she murmured, her fingers loosely tangled with his, “I’ll stay, after.”

He blinked at her. “You’ll—?”

“Yes.” Her gaze flickered over his, her voice low as she struggled through the words. “I’ll stay here, with you—and your family. After it’s done. I just… Need to close the chapter.”

I fucking did it, he thought, certain that he was going to grin like a complete maniac if he didn’t keep himself in check. I fucking got her. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe they doubted me.

“Of course,” he managed out, somehow keeping his voice steady despite the rush of butterflies banging against his rib cage. “Of course, hellcat, anything you want.”

“Okay.” She paused, and then reached up and kissed him—willingly, of her own volition, in front of his siblings, she kissed him, and then sat back on her feet. “In a day, then?”

“In a day,” John promised, their noses brushing. “We’ll really belong to each other.”

Elliot’s lashes fluttered. She looked a little more tired than before, but it was hard to tell this close; and if it bothered her at all—if it was changing her mood—it didn’t show. He felt her smile against his mouth.

“Yes,” she murmured, just the way that he liked. “Completely.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Jacob stopped by the bunkhouse with Joseph that evening to let him know they’d dispatched the men to clean out the ranch of any remaining corpses; they’d do it through the night, to better assist Elliot in her revelations. It seemed that the members of Eden’s Gate were just as relieved as the siblings themselves that the deputy was no longer and adversary, but joining them.

Which still left the matter of Cameron Burke.

“I say we kill him,” Jacob announced, glancing over John’s shoulder to ensure Elliot wasn’t there—and never before had John been more grateful for the blonde’s need to go on exorbitantly long walks out of the compound. “Quick and easy.”

“Well,” John said, “that is what I had thought you intended before, yet here we are, with him still on our hands.”

“We are lucky that our brother cares so much as to run our deputy through such trials,” Joseph interceded serenely, before a spat could break out. “And that she passed. With flying colors, I think.”

“That’s a little generous.”

“At any rate, that we’ve moved up this celebration for her is good,” the blonde continued. “I hear that the Family may not all be finished. Jacob mentioned that his scouts saw movement, out close to the Whitetails.”

John frowned. No good, he thought, but then—what about all of those dead couples he and Elliot had seen? Paired, holding hands, flowers blooming from wherever they could fit them? How was it determined which ones would off themselves and which ones stuck around?

“Now that we have all of the supplies we need,” Jacob said, “we don’t have to worry about getting rid of them.” He shrugged. “Let the apocalypse finish them off.”

“Well.” John clapped his hands together. “I’ve quite a day to prepare for tomorrow, I think. And when it’s all done, we’ll be ready to settle in.”

Joseph and Jacob exchanged looks, just for a moment, before Jacob said, “Night, Johnny,” and set off, leaving Joseph alone in front of the doorway to the bunkhouse. When he looked at John, his expression unreadable, something uneasy crawled and settled down at the base of his spine.

“I have something for you,” Joseph said. “Come with me to the chapel?”

Trying not to recognize that dread, lest he give it more legs than it already had, John nodded his head. “Of course. Though, you know you never have to…”

“It’s the least I could do,” his brother interjected lightly, waiting patiently as he closed the door to his temporary base of operations and then fell into step with him to the chapel. The evening was brisk and chilly, and when Joseph said, “And where is our deputy?” John stifled a rueful smile.

“Taking a walk, with Faith,” John replied. “And the dog, of course.”

“Of course.” He saw a smile ticking the corner of his brother’s mouth, small and almost imperceptible. “It’s nice that they get along, don’t you think?”

“It is,” he agreed, “like she was always meant to be with us.”

Joseph paused outside the chapel’s doors, reaching up and giving John’s shoulder a squeeze. “Just like.”

They stepped inside. It was cool and quiet; nobody remained. The radio flickering through channels was the only noise, and they rang empty and static, not a peep out there. He wondered if the remaining members of the Family were just looking for a place to rest, or a way to get out; maybe they didn’t want anything, anymore.

He followed his brother to the front of the chapel. On the table was the map they’d been using, a few scribbled notes in Jacob’s hand-writing, and a manila envelope.

Joseph picked up the envelope and held it out to John. He took it, and then glanced inquisitively up at his brother.

“Is this—?”

“Her file,” Joseph confirmed. “What we gathered on her prior to the Collapse. Also in there are my notes from her confession, as well as what appears to be diary entries, recovered from where Kian had tried to hunt the two of you.”

Holy shit, John thought, because sitting in his hands was the exact thing that he’d wanted from the beginning. Everything that he wanted to know about Elliot was right there: waiting to be read, devoured, committed to memory. He would know every single part of her, every wretched thing she had ever done, every loss she had ever suffered, every—

“And,” Joseph continued, “your marriage certificate.”

John glanced up at his brother. Suddenly, the envelope felt—different. Like an ultimatum. If he learned all of this about Elliot, and she got suspicious because he suddenly knew so much about her, and she asked where he found out and he told her—and he would have to tell her—she’d want to see it and then. And then.

And then.

“I think it’s time, John,” his brother said. “I know that you haven’t told our deputy about this arrangement. She is your wife, after all, before the eyes of this congregation and God.”

“Right,” John murmured, swallowing. “Yeah, of course. I planned on it. After tomorrow. It feels fitting, to tell her then.”

Maybe it would be better to tell her in the bunker, he thought absently, and then shoved that immediately away. No, fuck, no, I have to tell her. Tomorrow, after we finish everything.

“Good.” Joseph smiled, and for the first time in a long time he smiled with teeth, and the expression on his brother’s face almost unnerved him. He reached up, and his fingers brushed the nape of John’s neck, tilting him forward so that their foreheads pressed together.

Relief, hot and overwhelming, washed straight through him. They had been so at odds that John thought he might have forgotten what it was like to be in his brother’s good graces, but here he was.

“I am so proud of all that you have done for me, for our family, for Eden’s Gate.” Joseph’s voice rang in the hollow of his bones, vibrating straight through him, spiking in him a delirious rush of pride. “You have done so well, John, despite all that God has done to test you.”

Oh, there it was: everything in him said, finally, finally, finally, someone sees me, and he was reminded of why it was he owed Joseph so much. Because he gave him this.

“I’m—” John felt the words choke and stutter on the way out of him. It was almost too much—the finish line was in sight. Elliot had said, you can’t have both, but he could. He could, and he was going to, and it was here right in front of him.

Waiting.

“Thank you,” he managed out. “Thank you, Joseph. I only ever wanted to make you proud.”

“I know.” Joseph smiled, hand pressed against the back of John’s head, holding him gently. “I know.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Leaving the chapel, John was cruising on cloud nine; he had everything. Everything. Nobody was going to take it from him. No stupid cult, no last-minute hail mary’s from the opposing team—

As he passed by a window into the bunkhouse that had been Elliot’s before Burke had made it his home, John stopped and leaned against the siding of the house, tapping on the window. Burke was sitting at the table, leaned back, eyes closed; when the sound of John’s finger against the glass rattled again, he opened one eye.

John waved, and grinned. “Hi, bud.”

Burke stared at him. He gestured for the Marshal to push his window up, and after a few exasperated gestures, he did—reluctantly.

“Seed,” he said, tiredly. “Particular reason you’re not fuckin’ off?”

“Just wanted to stop by,” John replied slyly. “See how you were holding up. The impending apocalypse must be weighing heavily on you.”

Burke stared at him for a moment. He worked a toothpick between his teeth. His hands and feet were both cuffed, and the guards standing outside of the bunkhouse seemed to be concerned with his tone when he said, “Can’t wait to beat that shit-eating grin off of your face.”

“That’s not very professional,” John drawled. “Won’t that look poorly, in front of all of your little friends?”

“They’ll avert their eyes to let me give you some extra special attention.” Burke lifted his chin, taking the toothpick out of his mouth and spitting out the window, nearly landing on John’s shoes. “Promise.”

Impudent, John thought. Burke really just couldn’t let him have a moment, could he? “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Marshal,” he said, straightening up from the window and taking a step away. “I like it rough.”

And then he paused, turning on his heel like a swivel and lifted a finger thoughtfully.

“If you want some pointers on what I like,” he added pleasantly, “you can always ask Elliot.”

Burke’s eyes narrowed. “Your little brainwashed cultist? I think I’ll pass.” he asked, and John’s smile plummeted, wiped off of his face.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” he hissed. “You’re the failing party here, Cameron Burke. You’re going to be the one suffering when the End comes for you.”

“Well, if that’s the case,” Burke replied, “better get goin’, shouldn’t you?”

John’s teeth snapped together with a click, pain shooting up through his jaw as his molars ground. Petulant and arrogant, all the way to the very end, wasn’t he? He supposed that made it a little bit better that Jacob was going to off him.

He had everything he wanted, and not even Cameron Burke was going to take that from him.

John flashed a smile, all teeth, and held his arms out. “I suppose I should,” he replied. “Have a nice ceremony tomorrow to prepare. Though, I don’t have to tell you—you’ll be there for it, won’t you? A front row seat and all.”

Even in the dark of the growing evening, he could see Burke’s jaw clench. The Marshal pulled back from the window and slammed it shut, signaling his exit from the conversation; if John had been in a worse mood, he would have stormed right in there and shown Burke exactly what the consequences were for trying to run the show.

But there wasn’t time, because just as he was debating the logistics of doing so, he heard a dog barking in the distance and the sound of familiar voices.

“Hi, John,” Faith sing-songed at him, swinging Elliot’s hand in her own as they approached. “Isn’t it a bit late? I thought you’d be asleep by now.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” John replied with a quick smile, which was not necessarily a lie.

“Too excited,” his sister agreed playfully.

As they approached, he could see the circles beneath Elliot’s eyes had darkened. She really wasn’t sleeping, was she? Reaching up with his free hand as soon as she was close enough, he brushed some loose strands of hair from her face and guided her close, his fingers tangling into her hair at the base of her skull and his mouth finding her temple. Faith giggled and waved her fingers at Elliot, breezing past him on her way to the chapel.

He asked, “Did you enjoy your walk?”

“It was dark,” Elliot replied, by way of explanation. Boomer sniffed around their feet and then cocked his head, listening while his eyes fixed on the dark treeline. “What’s that?”

“Hm?” John asked, distracted by Boomer’s sudden alertness. “Oh, the envelope?”

“No, John, this stupid fucking Hot Topic belt I’ve seen you wear all the time.” Elliot pulled back to look at him, eyes glimmering with amusement. “Yes, the envelope.”

He opened his mouth to respond, trying to decide if he wanted to be upfront with her about it or not; he was so caught up in his decision that he didn’t even have the time to be offended by her remark about his belt before he said, “We should go back to our house, don’t you think? The company here’s a little sour.”

Elliot’s gaze swept around curiously, and when she spotted Burke through the window, she said, “Ah.”

“You never did tell me how your talk went,” he added, taking her hand and beginning to pull her away. “Good? Bad?”

The blonde watched him for a moment, like he’d said something a little too suspicious. “It really bothers you when you don’t know what exactly is going on, doesn’t it?”

John feigned a pleased smile. “It’s my job to know what’s going on.”

“I thought it was your job to talk incessantly?”

“I am multi-faceted.”

They reached the door to their shared space—and that was a nice little thought, their space, like they had a place that belonged to the two of them—and as Elliot stepped inside, she said, “Burke wanted to know what had happened.”

John closed the door behind them, pausing and looking at her for a moment; he tried to glean any insight he could out of her expression, but he couldn’t. He could only see quiet exhaustion sitting on her face, just there, just within his reach.

“And?” he prompted, when she failed to elaborate. She walked into the bathroom and turned the water on, washing her face; quickly, John opened the envelope and thumbed through the documents until he found what he was looking for. He slid the paper beneath the nightstand beside the bed and shut the envelope, smoothing the metal pins out. There, he thought, like it was never opened.

“I told him the truth,” Elliot replied from the bathroom, shutting the water off. “About the Family. About—you. And your siblings.”

“Well, he did refer to you as my ‘little brainwashed cultist’, so I imagine that conversation didn’t go well.”

The blonde stepped out of the bathroom, crossing her arms over her chest and watching him for a moment. That was answer enough, he supposed—whatever friendliness had lingered between Elliot and Burke seemed to have been decimated by the reality of their situation.

“What’s in the envelope?”

“It’s your file,” John said, plainly. Elliot’s jaw tensed.

“My file,” she reiterated.

“Yes. All of the things Joseph had on you before, including your confession to him and some papers they found in Kian’s bag of belongings. Back in the woods.”

Her eyes flickered, and she exhaled, long and tired. He could tell that she didn’t like that he had it. She had so desperately tried to keep him from knowing what it was that haunted her, though he had mostly pieced it together by now—an ex-boyfriend gone bad, the resulting fallout, all wadded up into a tiny ball of trauma that sat right in her ribs. All of those times Elliot had tried to cling to those shreds of control—and everything about her had been handed to him in a manila envelope. He imagined that it was quite frustrating.

John offered, “I haven’t looked at it.”

“Why not?”

“I thought,” he began, carefully, “that you might want it. For yourself.”

Elliot looked at him warily. “You’re just going to give it to me?”

“Elliot,” he said as he closed the space between them, “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you. I’ll give you anything you want.” John reached up, brushing his fingers against the slope of her neck, feeling the way her pulse jumped at the contact. “Besides, I have you. What do I need the file for?”

He wanted it. He wanted to read her file, learn every gritty detail about her, memorize them the same way she’d memorized his scars and tattoos with her fingers; to know her, inside and out, so that there wasn’t a single dark corner of her that he didn’t have completely.

“Throw it away,” Elliot murmured. “I don’t want it. I don’t want it anywhere. Please, just throw it away.”

“If that’s what you really want,” John agreed.

“It is.”

She leaned up and kissed him; her hands cradling his jaw and pulling him there, her mouth soft and compliant against his. He dropped the envelope in favor of getting both of his hands on her, walking her back against the nearest wall and sliding his fingers beneath the hem of her sweater. Elliot’s breath stuttered and hitched prettily, but she pulled back until her mouth was just out of his reach.

Still, though her head was tilted otherwise, her fingers tugged on the front of his shirt and crowded him against her, close. If he thought about it too hard—about the way they had begun, hissing and spitting, and how they were now—he’d have thought he was dreaming, how she wanted him in her space now.

“Let’s go,” the blonde said, her voice urgent. “Tonight. To the ranch.”

“You—” John paused, watching her. “You want to go tonight? Why not tomorrow?”

“I don’t want to be here,” she murmured, “in the compound. I want—”

Elliot stopped, then, worrying her lower lip between her teeth for a moment. “I want to have some time,” she continued, “with you, before... Everything. Just us.” Her mouth twisted in what John thought could only be a playful smile. “Like old times.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asked, narrowing his eyes amusedly. “Which times are those? The times where you told me to go fuck myself, or—”

“I think you liked it.”

“Your mouth is one of my favorite things about you, yes.”

“So,” she continued, “can we go tonight?”

John, propped up against the wall with her caged between his arms, studied her for a moment. It wouldn’t be bad to get some time away from the compound that wasn’t some kind of macabre venture out into Fall’s End, haunting her with all of the things she used to have and had once been.

“Sure,” he said finally, “I don’t see why not. Just a little time for us.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Though he had been less than thrilled about the idea of Elliot being outside of the compound, Jacob had confirmed that the ranch was cleaned out of bodies and ready for them. When they swept past Burke in the bunkhouse, watching them through the window, John’s eyes went to Elliot—trying to see if there was anything in her expression, trying to see if there was a blink of affection or recognition.

There wasn’t. Elliot walked past without looking at the U.S. Marshal and swung into the driver’s side of the truck, and when John reached across the console to drop the keys in her hand, her gaze and expression were clear of any cloudiness.

When they got to the ranch, it was quiet; the lights had been left on, and while John knew that the bodies were gone and cleaned out, he still braced himself for impact when they walked in. The bookshelf had been righted again, and the strong smell of cleaning solution lingered in the air, but for the most part, everything was exactly where he’d left it.

It was a shame, then, that soon they’d be slipping underground.

“Bleach,” Elliot said, walking up the stairs after him. “How romantic.”

“It’s your mess they were cleaning,” John replied dryly, flashing her a grin over his shoulder. “In case you forgot.”

“I didn’t.”

He pushed the door open to the master bedroom, taking in a little breath and turning to look at Elliot. She was inspecting the room, and for a second, John almost felt self-conscious—that she was here, now, with him. In his home. Touching his things. Looking at him.

It was almost unnerving to think about; that some time ago, she had been viciously looking for any way out. But of course, she had come around. She was always going to come around, one way or another. He thought about the way she’d spit Go fuck yourself, John, the way she’d tried her hardest to be as obtuse and unhelpful as possible, how she’d said in the bar you can’t have both but here he was.

Here she was.

There was only one thing left standing in the way, and it was something he had all the power in the world to change if he wanted to.

“What are you thinking about?” the blonde asked, arching a brow at him loftily.

“You,” John said, and it wasn’t a lie. Her lashes fluttered and she almost looked shy, for a moment; when he reached out and tugged her close by the belt loop of her jeans, he added, “What do you think about getting married?”

With her hands steadying herself on his chest, she barked out a laugh. “In general? Or us getting married?”

“Primarily the latter.”

“I—” Elliot blinked, and shook her head. “I don’t... What do you mean, what do I think about us getting married?”

“Do you like the idea?” John prompted. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the slope of her jaw.

“We’ve barely been together,” she murmured. “And—you still piss me off.”

“That’s amore.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Elliot groaned, and John grinned, sliding his arms around her to pull her closer still. He hoisted her up into his arms and carried her to the bed; when he’d settled her there, on her back and with her legs looped loosely around his waist, she watched him for a moment. “I don’t know. I’ve never wanted to get married.”

John cocked his head. “Not even once?”

“Not even once.”

“And why not?”

“Why would I?” she retorted. “The only marriage I ever saw was my dad dragging my mama’s credit through the dirt and then fucking off the second he got tired of playing house. Giving up my last name to someone? Letting someone take that away from me?”

John leaned down, pushing her sweater up and pressing his mouth to the curve of her hip cutting up and over her jeans. Her breath stuttered for a moment, and she squirmed when he let his tongue slide along one of her scars.

“I know this is going to sound crazy,” he said, “but marriage isn’t all about giving. It’s about receiving, too.”

He watched the heat crawl into her cheeks, undoing the button of her jeans and sliding them down until they pooled on the floor with a whisper. She said she’d never wanted to get married, but he thought after tomorrow—after she saw how beautiful it would be, to have her sin revealed and in the open—she would change her mind. For him, she would.

Elliot let out a sharp, stuttering breath. “Come here,” she said, tugging on him a little to guide him back up to her. He obliged, and she tangled her fingers into his hair and kissed him; long and patient, lips parting beneath his and her tongue flickering playfully against his mouth. She skimmed her fingers along his chest, down until she could undo his belt and pull it from the loops, discarding it on the floor.

“Miss Honeysett,” John murmured.

“John,” she replied, as her fingers deftly undid his jeans.

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

“You did take my pants off.”

He laughed, the sound sweeping out of him just before Elliot pulled him down into another kiss. She shifted and squirmed against him, pushing and working with her fingers until they were skin on skin. There was a second, a heartbeat of time, where Elliot paused, her gaze flickering over him.

“I want—a home,” she said, her voice quiet, “with you. I don’t have one anymore, and I...”

John dragged his fingers along the exposed skin of her sternum, down and down and down, and she sucked in a sharp little breath the second he found exactly he was looking for.

“You have it,” he replied against her mouth, and a spike of heat sprinted up his spine when he beckoned his fingers against her and she whimpered. “You have it, El, I told you—”

Elliot’s nails dug into his shoulder and she said, “John,” and her voice plunged a little when she did, pitching high and sweet and just the way that he liked it; he mouthed a spot on her neck, sighing against her skin.

“Love those sounds you make,” he murmured. “So good for me.”

“Yes,” Elliot said breathlessly, turning her head so that their noses could brush, “yes, I am, for you—so, please—”

So, please, she said, so sweetly, wanting and hurting and needy as she clutched him, as her breath hitched in anticipation when John pressed up against her, slow and without urgency.

“Is this what you wanted to come here for?” John rumbled against her mouth, breathing unsteady. “So I could f—fuck you in peace and quiet?”

The blonde moaned her agreement as she kissed him. Her body arched up against his, impatient, and when he finally pressed into her all the way, she let out a sigh, her fingers twisting in his hair.

It was too good; too tight, too hot, and the way Elliot held him close, like she thought she was going to disappear if she didn’t keep her grip on him, made the trickle of heat turn into a wildfire splitting through his body. He groaned, the pace excruciating and delicious as he made sure to take each drag as slow as possible.

“F-Fucking—faster,” Elliot whimpered against his mouth, “John—”

“No,” he ground out, slotting his hips against hers tightly before drawing back out again. “You have to—I want you just like this, hellcat—”

She made a sweet keening noise and rocked her hips up, impatient; each time she did sent another sharp jolt of desire sprinting through him, and he bit out a low swear and gripped her hip with one hand.

“Brat,” he moaned. “Wants everything her way but can’t—f-fucking—behave.”

“Fuck you,” Elliot replied, but there was no real heat in her words; she said it in a broken, stuttering breath. “What if I want you faster? What if I want you to fuck me until you just can’t stand it—”

“Stop.” John gritted the words out between his teeth; if there was one thing that sent him to his undoing, it was Elliot and her filthy mouth. “God, you—fucking—”

Elliot dragged him in for a kiss, open-mouthed and slick and wanting, and she begged, “John, I want you so badly—I need—”

And her words stuttered for a moment, like she was catching herself before she could say something that she thought might be embarrassing. John’s hand came up and pressed to her jaw, tilting her face back to him so that he could see her; gazing at him through her lashes, flushed and lips kiss-reddened and eyes dreamy and dazed.

“Tell me,” he managed out, through the haze of his own pleasure. “Tell me what you need.”

“You,” Elliot moaned, “I need you, John.”

“Fuck,” John ground out. He was powerless to go against her wishes when she was looking at him like that, and saying I need you, and twisting her fingers in his hair and—

And when he snapped into her, she sighed his name like a prayer, like he was holy, and he thought that it would have been a crime not to give her what she wanted. It was almost as good as taking it slow; hearing Elliot whimper yes yes yes into their liplock as he fucked her, rough and a little unforgiving, nearly sent him spiraling.

When he slipped a hand between them, dragging the pad of his thumb across the neediest part of her, he felt her tighten; closecloseclose, it said, and Elliot made a wrecked, desperate sound and kissed him just as she came unraveled, panting his name.

His followed close behind—it hit hard, a strange, empty moment just before the ricocheting pleasure rattled around in his skeleton. John buried his face into Elliot’s neck and moaned, gripping her tight to him, and she arched up a little into him and made him hiss.

“You,” he said breathlessly into her neck, “are getting too comfortable using that filthy mouth of yours to get what you want.”

She laughed, raking her fingers through his hair. “You like it.”

“I’ve said that I do.”

“How much?” Elliot idled, and he felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth.

“Wicked thing, aren’t you?” he asked, instead of answering her question. Her lashes fluttered, and when John leaned down and dragged his teeth against her pulse point, she made a soft, sweet sound, squirming in his arms.

“I’m going to sleep,” she announced. Having disentangled themselves and slipped under the covers, she settled back against the pillows and he was reminded, once again, of the dark circles lingering under her eyes. “Feels like I have slept a fucking wink in the compound.”

“Fine,” John agreed, kissing her temple. “You’ll need your rest for tomorrow, anyway.”

It took some time for them to fall asleep; Elliot slept more fitfully than he, and each time she shifted or sighed or rolled it woke him up, too. Eventually, the blonde settled with her face tucked against John’s chest, her fingers absently tracing over the shape of his scar until her breathing slowed and she drifted back off.

Sometime around three in the morning, she stirred, sliding out of bed and making her way to the bathroom. John reached over to the nightstand and picked up his watch to squint at it in the dark. He heard the sink running, and the door to the bathroom was slightly ajar.

“Can’t believe it’s almost the end of November,” he said, out loud and to no one in particular, though Elliot’s head peeked out of the bathroom. She’d wrapped herself in his robe, cinching it tight around her waist.

“It is?” she asked, tiredly. “What’s the date?”

“The twenty-first.”

Elliot stilled for a moment. A strange emotion swept over her face; he thought that it was almost sadness. “It’s my birthday tomorrow.”

John set the watch back down on the nightstand. “Well, perfect timing then. I just gave you an incredible birthday present. How old are you turning? And why do you look so terribly distressed?”

“Fuck off,” she muttered when he grinned at her. “Twenty-six, asshole.” And then, like an afterthought: “It’s just that normally by now, I’m—”

The blonde cut herself off, and then shook her head, rubbing her eyes tiredly and walking back into the bathroom to turn the water off.

“Elliot?” he called. “What is it?”

“Just weird,” she replied after a minute, “being... Having a birthday. Here. Like this.”

He settled back against the pillow. “Come back to bed.”

She did as he asked, obliging him as she slid back under the blankets and covers. The robe was still on, and he pulled at the hem of it playfully. Elliot somehow looked more tired than before; and her eyes didn’t quite meet his, like she was somewhere very far away from him.

“Looks good on you,” he murmured. “Blue’s your color.”

Elliot’s attention snapped to him. “Faith said the same thing.”

“Great minds.”

She rolled her eyes, shifting to the other side in bed so that John could tug her back against his chest, burying his face into her neck. When her breathing finally slowed a little, and regulated, John felt himself finally start to relax.

I can have both, he thought, as he began to drift back off. I can, and I will.

｡☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆｡

When Elliot awoke the next morning, the first thing that she thought was, I’m late.

It hit her differently in the cold light of day, to think her period was delayed. That’s probably what it was, anyway—a delay. Lots of things could fuck around with the timing of a period, right?

The second thing she thought was, today’s the day.

Things did seem oddly calm, as they went about their morning; they showered, and John kissed her smelling like expensive soap, and his hands went to the places he loved the most—her hips, her hair, her jaw. It was like they’d fallen into a routine with each other, in just this short period of time; but then, she supposed, that was very natural to have happened, considering that they spent so much time with each other now.

“We should do it downstairs,” Elliot said as John busied himself with some coffee. Boomer had sprinted outside at the first opportunity, taking off into the treeline to burn some of his energy off.

“Downstairs?” he asked, glancing at her. “In the room?”

“Seems fitting.”

He shrugged, sliding a cup of coffee her way and leaning across the counter. “Whatever you want, baby.”

The sound of car doors closing and voices outside stirred her attention away from John’s mouth—a wholly distracting thing—but when she turned to see the Seeds walking through the front door of the ranch, she felt her stomach plummet.

“Brought a plus one,” Jacob announced, shoving Burke forward. “Hope you don’t mind.” He fixed Elliot with his gaze. “Caught him snooping around the chapel. Isn’t that weird?”

“I—” Elliot’s brain fuzzed viciously, static biting through all other noise. Burke’s lip was split and he had a nasty black eye forming. Oh, no, she thought, oh, no, no, no, no. This is so fucking bad.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I couldn’t trust anyone to keep an eye on him, so unfortunately, that is now my job.”

“No,” Elliot said abruptly, drawing all eyes on her. “I’m—I don’t want him here.”

“Elliot,” John murmured.

“Then what do you propose I do with him?” Jacob demanded.

“I don’t know, that isn’t my fucking job,” she snapped. With the siblings all looking at her, Burke took a second and very gently, very resolutely, shook his head no.

Her mind went frantic. What does that mean? Does that mean stop kicking up a fuss? Does that mean he got to the radio? Or that he didn’t? What the fuck is the plan, now?

Joseph said, gentle, “I’m afraid we just can’t afford to lose track of him, Elliot.”

She felt fingers brushing hers. John had come around the kitchen island, and now their fingers were interlaced. It felt like she was on some kind of precipice, some great, plunging cliff into a void, and all she could do was stand by hopelessly as everything pushed her towards the edge.

She didn’t want Burke to watch. She didn’t want him to see her let John carve WRATH into her skin, but most of all—most of all, she didn’t want Burke to see that maybe it would feel good, for her, a catharsis.

“Fine,” she managed out after a moment, watching Burke’s eyes flutter shut in what might have been relief. Or suffering. “Fine, whatever.”

“Well,” Joseph murmured, “shall we get started? There’s a full day ahead of us.”

As they moved down the stairs, Elliot swallowed thickly and tried to clear and compose her brain. Everything did feel just a little bit like it was too much. Joseph there, his shoulder brushing hers; Faith and John, chatting like it was nothing to have her sit down in a chair in the middle of the room where she had been kept captive; Jacob, shoving Burke into the room and on his knees.

It was too much. She would just have to pray that Burke had gotten a chance with the radio before Jacob found him.

“We’re going to have to take your shirt off,” John said, moving into her vision, and didn’t sound like he regretted that in the least. A little rush of relief coursed through her when she realized she’d be able to focus on someone familiar—none of Joseph’s prying eyes or Faith’s sweet smiles to unsettle and unseat her. Just her, and John.

“How long is this going to take?” Burke asked, his voice bordering on vicious. Jacob gave him a little jostle.

“Why? You got somewhere to be, friend?”

Elliot barely heard them. Her eyes, her thoughts, were on John; when her shirt was discarded to the side, he skimmed his fingers along her sternum, eyes bright.

“It’s going to look so good,” he murmured, and she knew that he wasn’t paying attention to them, either. He’d seemed disappointed when she asked someone else to be there, but now, it didn’t seem like it mattered at all. “Ready?”

She nodded, feeling a little swoon of adrenaline kick through her body when John left the room and returned with a knife. John looked at her expectantly. The physical acquiescence wasn’t enough.

“Yes,” Elliot said, and John’s eyes fluttered closed just for a moment before he leaned forward and kissed her—hard and open-mouthed, his fingers bruising where they gripped her shoulder.

“Fucking Christ,” Burke ground out, and John pulled away with a wicked grin.

“You and me,” he murmured against her lips, and she nodded.

John sat down. Over his shoulder she could see Burke, sitting on his knees, his face resolutely turned to the side. She turned her gaze away, too, because she didn’t want to see—didn’t want to see Burke sitting there, biting his tongue and trying not to look at her, look at her scars and the one John was going to give her and—

The sting of the first cut barely registered through the fog of her brain. It didn’t quite hit, and then her eyes flickered down and she saw the first stream of red, and it really hit, immediately slicing through the fog of adrenaline to hit sharper, harder, nastier.

Elliot exhaled a stuttering breath. It felt exactly the same as she remembered; it wasn’t so soft, on her chest like this, but it wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation to her either. Something in her brain tripped at the pain, neurons firing rapidly; we know you, they said, as John meticulously carved the W into her skin, we know you, pain, we missed you, missed you missed you missed you.

“John,” she said, because there was a burst of panic going off in her brain like fireworks. The two parts of her—the one that self-preserved, and the one that craved this exact sting and bite—wrestled with the reality of her situation: that she was both doing and not doing the thing she had tried to deprogram out of herself.

“So good, hellcat,” John murmured, his eyes fixed on his work as he started on the R. He was fixated; he was somewhere far away from her, even as close as he was. “It’s going to look so good on you.”

And behind him, Jacob said, “C’mon, Burke, don’t you want to see what your little deputy asked for?”

“Fuck. You,” Burke bit out.

The sting, the bite; the push and pull. Elliot breathed her way through each excruciating moment, and they were excruciating, these moments, because John was utilizing every second that he had her here, like this.

And that was fine. She needed him to; both for her sake, and for Burke’s.

Something sounded like thundering up ahead, distant but out of place. It gave her a little jolt of panic. If that was what she thought it was, then—

Elliot saw Jacob’s eyes flicker up to the ceiling, narrowing; she managed out, “Slow down,” just as John paused too, to draw his attention back to her.

“Slower?” John asked, and the way he said it felt intimate, with his eyes fixed on her and his fingers red with her blood.

“Please,” Elliot breathed. Jacob looked at her for a moment, long and hard, but she didn’t meet his eyes; only looked at John, only waited patiently for him to begin.

After a moment, John said, his voice pitched low, “Anything you want.”

“I’ll be back,” Jacob said. He dropped his hand from Burke’s shoulder; John made a non-committal uh-huh sound, finishing off the unsteady cross of the T. She hissed, squirming in her seat at the pain, drawing Jacob’s attention for just a second long before he made his way out of the room.

The H followed next. As soon as he finished, John pulled back to admire his work; there was still a bit of bruising, but most of it was up on her shoulder, not her chest, which was now doused in crimson. Wiping his hands off with a towel, he beamed at her; all teeth and bright eyes.

“What a relief, don’t you think?” Joseph asked, his voice idle and distracted as he glanced up at the ceiling inquisitively. “To have it all out there.”

John flashed a smile at his brother, clearly pleased. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said to Elliot, coming to a stand. “We’ll have to let it heal for a while to see how it’s going to scar, and then we can go back in and—”

Before John could finish his sentence, Elliot heard the sound of car doors slamming outside, and Jacob’s voice, asking something in a demand, and then a volley of responses: it was hard to hear, a floor down, but she thought they were saying get down, get down.

“What is going on?” Joseph asked, his voice verging on something other than cool and calm, and the sound of it filled Elliot with a bright spark of joy: yes, she thought viciously, coming to a stand and feeling around for her shirt while her eyes stayed on the Seeds, yes, you fucking cockroach, squirm.

“I don’t know,” John said, stepping toward the door. “Stay here.”

He only took two more steps before the sound of Jacob shouting something above them, followed by a gunshot, and then a loud cacophony of footsteps above them.

“Jacob,” Faith breathed, her eyes wide and panicked. “Something’s happened, Father, we have to—”

“Stay,” John barked out, suddenly all business as he was hauling Burke up to his feet. “I think our friend the Marshal would like to take a look first, make sure nothing is dangerous.”

But Burke was grinning when his feet righted themselves on the ground. He sucked his teeth, looked directly at Joseph, and said, “Time’s up, fuckhead.”

Burke’s words send her stomach somersaulting. So he had gotten to the radio. He had, just in time, which meant he’d been caught just after, and now—

Now he was here, and so were all of the Seeds, too.

I fucking did it, she thought hazily, bracing herself on the chair. Holy shit. I fucking did it.

The sound of footsteps storming down the stairs made John’s eyes flicker to the doorway, and he let go of Burke, gripping the bloodied towel loosely in his hands.

Her heart was thundering in her chest. It was hard to think through the haze of pain, the stinging and burning of the cuts on her chest, but it was there, if she tried hard enough to look: hope.

But Joseph wasn’t looking at John. He was looking at Elliot.

“You,” the Father hissed, as Elliot pulled the shirt away from her chest, sticky-wet with blood. “You did this. I know you did, you fucking locust, I knew it the second you stepped foot in my chapel—brought us all here, rounded us up like lambs for the slaughter—”

“What do you mean?” John demanded. “Elliot has been with me since this whole—”

Things moved very quickly, then: through the fog of pain, Elliot heard one, two, three heavy thuds against the door before wood splintered and came crashing down, the instant array of green sights set on them—all of them, her included—and the sound of voices demanding their hands go up.

Elliot watched Joseph, hands at his sides.

“What. Did. You. Do?” Joseph ground out, his voice vicious, the rage splitting across his face almost as delicious as the fear. Faith was crying, and saying something through her tears, as John lifted his hands obediently.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see one of the SWAT members hauling Burke out of the room first. She looked at Joseph and arched a brow at him, lifting her hands obediently when the order was shouted again.

“Oh, Father,” she sighed, her voice cloying and sweet and just between the two of them, “did God not tell you about this part?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Things were going poorly.

That is to say, Jacob had a gunshot to the shoulder that was currently being patched while he was in handcuffs—“Can’t have you bleeding out on us, can we?” the medic said, a little too gleefully, until Jacob said something along the lines of I’m gonna rip your fucking face off—and Faith was crying, and Joseph was seething, furiously whispering to himself and held in place by one of the other U.S. Marshals.

Elliot was in cuffs, too, but Burke seemed to be talking furiously with the man who had cuffed her, occasionally interrupted when Elliot would try and draw his attention back to John.

This won’t do, he thought, as panic pounded through his body, as his heart hammered against his chest. All of his siblings, in handcuffs, and Elliot too; she was, too, but she looked—

Fine.

She looked fine, and he thought about what she’d said. You can’t have both, and then she’d immediately gone back on that. Of course she had. Of course, because she was wretched and wicked and clever, and she had never truly let go of her hatred for Joseph, but they were married. They were married, and the U.S. government was going to know about it before they stuck her on a stand to testify against any of his siblings.

“I need to speak to her,” John said to the officer holding him. “The woman, there. That’s my—”

“You don’t need to do anything,” the man replied sharply, “except shut your mouth and wait patiently for us to load you and the rest of your fucking brood into the van.”

“She’s my wife,” John bit out viciously. “And she’s in cuffs, I would like to speak with my wife—”

“What did you just say?”

It was Elliot’s voice, sharp and clear and splitting through the distance between them. In the chilly Autumn afternoon, John felt the spike of pure adrenaline race through him at her tone, at the way her head snapped to him and she shouldered her way past Burke. The officer had taken her cuffs off.

Burke said, “Rookie,” in warning, but it didn’t matter, John knew; they had never been able to ignore each other, in love or in war.

“I said,” John reiterated, “you’re my wife.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Elliot demanded.

“That night,” he began urgently, “that night that you were feeling unwell after your walk with Faith, and we talked about leaving—”

Elliot started, her voice hitching, “John, what did you do—”

“—we talked about other things, too,” he plunged on. “I didn’t tell you, Elliot. I didn’t tell you because I wanted it to be the right time. I was going to tell you today, after we were done—I was going to tell you that we talked about it and I asked you if you wanted to marry me, and you told me yes—”

“Stop,” she moaned, agonized. “Stop—fucking—talking—you didn’t, John, you fucking didn’t lie to me again about this thing that you know I hate—”

“And you signed the certificate. It’s back at the compound,” John finished, trying to lean around the officer. “We’re married. You and me, hellcat, just like we say, you and—”

He saw the slap coming before it hit, but it definitely took a few seconds for the pain to actually register in his brain. And oh, then it hit; Elliot had swung her hand with the same amount of force she might have if she were close-fist punching him, but her palm connected with this side of his face and sent a sharp, red-hot shot of pain blooming and blurring behind his eyes.

Dazed, John blinked and tried to focus his attention again as the officer jostled him out of her reach. He was vaguely aware of Burke moving toward them as Elliot gritted out between her teeth, “How fucking dare you.”

“Ell,” John said, and there was blood in his mouth, his lip split from the impact of her hand. “Listen to me—”

Burke, louder and closer: “Elliot.”

“No, you listen to me, you fucking rat!” Elliot’s voice was pitching higher in volume, and higher in frequency and hysteria. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! I told you, I fucking told you what was going to happen if you lied to me again—you fucking—I’m going to fucking kill you—”

John saw Burke sling an arm around Elliot’s waist just as she lunged again, seething and furious, holding her tight against his chest as she clawed at his arms to get free. His mouth against her hair, he said, “Rookie, take a breath.”

“You take a fucking breath!”

He hauled her, all five feet and four inches of her, turning her away from John, like breaking her eyesight with him would save him the trouble of having to cuff her.

“Elliot,” John called, trying to lean past the officer, “I forgive you—”

“Fuck! You!”

“—marriage is hard work, but I know,” he continued, grinning when she finally pulled herself out of Burke’s grip, “that you’re just the woman for the job.”

She stared at him for a long moment. Every line in her expression was pulled tight with fury, and yes—John thought he should have told her sooner, maybe, but if she was going to find out, what better time to find out than in front of the very men who wanted to put her on the stand?

“Don’t you remember what you said last night? You need me,” he tried again, and he could tell the officer holding his shoulders was getting tired of him leaning around all the time. “I love you, Elliot, through sickness and in health, no matter how many—”

“Oh, John,” Elliot breathed out, like she almost couldn’t get a full lungful of air, she was so out of breath. She swayed on her feet exhaustedly, her mouth twisting around the next sentence that came out of her mouth: “I want a fucking divorce.”

The words plunged John straight into a panic, the kind that made it feel like there was a feeding frenzy going on under his skin. This was not how things were supposed to unfold. This was not how it was supposed to go. Elliot was going to be upset, sure—but he had taken great pains to make sure that she knew he was the only thing left for her, after it all. She was supposed to upset, and then see that it had been for her, it was always for her, for them. Everything he’d done, every step he’d taken, every—

She’s mine, he thought, his face still stinging, dull and hot, from her slap. Burke was saying something to her. That’s my fucking wife, whether she likes it or not.

No one was going to take her from him. Not Joseph or Jacob, not Cameron Burke, not even her. No one was going to put a serial murderer and the wife of a religious group’s lawyer on the stand. He’d make fucking sure of that.

“You think you’re gonna move on from this, El?” he demanded, managing to shoulder around the officer to make eye contact with her. His voice came out tight, sharp—slowly and purposefully careening, but he hated the strike of strange hysteria that wormed its way in there, too. “I watched you slaughter at least a hundred people in the name of “justice”—you beat a man to death with a blunt object, and you liked it—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Elliot ground out. She made to move at him, nails digging into her palms, but Burke hooked his arm around her waist and hauled her back again, much like before.

“You think you’re gonna move on and meet some nice little country boy who’s gonna love you even with all that fucking red in your ledger?” Oh, he was careening—all of the control slipping out from between his fingers, like sand. “No fucking way, baby, I’m it for you!”

“Rook,” Burke said, but there was no follow-up which made it worse; Burke said one word—one tiny little pet name—and Elliot’s attention immediately snapped to him.

John had never been made to feel like he was nothing; not like this.

“Look at me,” he snapped, and Elliot’s eyes turned to him; but he saw the fury split across her face, the absolute indignant rage. “You’re going to spend one day back in polite society and come unglued, Elliot Honeysett, and when you fucking do—you’ll be begging for me to take you back, and I guarantee you I fucking won’t.”

“That’s enough,” Burke said, but he was speaking to Elliot, looking at her.

“Maybe,” she hissed, pushing at Burke’s arm as blood seeped through the wound on her chest “you should have considered how I would react to you being a pathological liar before you fucking came inside me, you cunt.”

Her words sent a strange, uncomfortable sensation sprinting down his spine. She couldn’t be, John thought, alluding to—

But she had been surprised when he told her it was her birthday, like she hadn’t realized what day it was, and had said something like, normally by now I’m, and just hadn’t finished her thought.

“Okay.” Burke pulled her back a few more steps, his voice strained. Pulled her away from him. “We’re taking a walk. You and me, Rookie.”

“What the fuck do you mean?” John called after her, panic rising in his voice. “Elliot? Tell me what you—”

“I mean I’m late, fuckhead,” Elliot spit at him over Burke’s shoulder.

The officer pulled him back towards the truck, dragging him by his arm as Burke took Elliot around the corner of the ranch house. His stomach was lurching nauseatingly, trying to piece it together. Had it been long enough? Of course, it had—it had been over a month, probably, maybe even more because he didn’t know how to keep track of time when he’d been drugged and kidnapped and dragged around.

If she is, he thought, frantic; if she does have my child, if she’s—

“John,” Joseph said, his voice eerily quiet as he was pushed into a sitting position across from his brother. He seemed to have recovered from his outburst earlier; there was an odd grimness about his expression. “We must remain focused.”

“She—” John blinked rapidly, trying to gather his fraying, desperate thoughts. “Joseph, she might—”

Joseph lifted a finger to his lips to signal silence. Jacob’s breathing was labored but controlled, and Faith’s gentle crying had been snuffed out. She’d only been the damsel for a few minutes before she tried to storm her way out of their grip.

“The task at hand,” Joseph cautioned him. “Then, we will figure out what to do for your son.”

My son. The words echoed hazily in his brain as the van doors slammed shut, eclipsing them.

“How do you know?” John demanded. “You know? You know that she’s—with my—”

“Of course,” his brother replied, still keeping his voice soft.

“God told me.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Take a breath.”

“No.”

“Rookie.” Burke’s voice was hard. “Look at me and take breath.”

She couldn’t. Every inch of her body was screaming—desperate for a reprieve, but there was none to be had because she was still nursing her WRATH wound, because she was heaving out great, panicked breaths between ragged cries.

“I can’t,” Elliot moaned, her hands shaking, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t—”

Burke snagged her hand and pressed it to his neck, just like before, but this time it didn’t do anything; this time, she just felt the spiral hit harder, the overwhelming sensation of touching and being touched sending her brain sprinting in panic.

She yanked her hand out of his grip and clutched her knees to her chest, ignoring the warm seep of blood even against the bandages the medic had patched her with and the sting of the pressure of her bones pressed up against the wound.

Burke stayed, and she noticed. He stayed, and he didn’t have to—he was done, free, could leave and go home—but he stayed sitting there with her, against the side of the Seed ranch, wherein many ways, things for her had began.

So, she cried; she sobbed into her jeans until she thought she was going to be dizzy from gasping for air, and Burke stayed, and waited until her hand fumbled for his blindly before he touched her again. His fingers gripped hers, firm and soothing.

“Is it true?” he asked, when she had stopped her crying, when she had breathed so much there was too much oxygen in her brain. His gaze flickered over her. “That you’re… With that fucker’s…”

“I don’t know,” Elliot replied, exhausted. “I’m—fuck, I’m late, and I didn’t realize until yesterday, because it’s been so fucking—”

Burke passed his free hand over his face. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorry,” and the words came out of her agonized; because she could hear the disappointment in his voice, or what she thought was disappointment. “I thought—I thought he—Burke, I—”

“I know, Rook,” Burke murmured, not unkindly. “Just focus on breathing. I know.”

A few more moments of silence passed between them, filled only with the sound of voices and out and the kick of an engine starting and pulling out from the ranch. After her breathing had evened out again, Burke said, “They’re going to be retrieving Kian’s body.”

Elliot stared at the ground, feeling numb. He didn’t have to say; she knew what that meant. Government officials were going to see what she’d done to Kian. They were going to see it, and see that she was legally married to one of them, and see that she was carrying the child of one of them, and see her history, and all of these things were going to add up.

The picture was not going to be a good one.

“I’ve gotta take you in, Rook,” Burke said quietly. “At the very least, to a therapist.”

She sniffed. I love you, John had said, after he’d lied. Lied, and lied, and lied, and used her, and lied, and if he loved her, he didn’t love her in any way that she understood.

“Okay,” she whispered.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

“Yeah.”

“I know what you’ve been through, and you know I’ll vouch for you. I saw firsthand the kind of—the shit that was going on,” he insisted. “I just—want you to have a realistic picture of what it’s gonna look like, when we get back. They’re gonna autopsy Kian’s body, and—”

She took in a long, suffering breath. “I’m really tired,” Elliot said, her voice breaking a little. “Can we—are we going straight there, or?”

Burke paused, his expression softening, and shook his head. “We’ll hit a motel or two along the way.”

Elliot nodded, closing her eyes and pressing her face back into her knees. She stayed like that for a while; it was hard to tell how much time passed, but eventually, someone came around the corner and said something to Burke, and he tugged her to her feet and walked her to the car.

The sensation of Burke’s hand slipping out of hers sent another burst of panic flooding through her; her body was so tired, so very fucking tired of managing the adrenaline, but the more she tried to calm down the more tired she got.

“I want to stay with you,” she said, feeling hazy and tightening her hand around Burke’s. The Marshal looked at her for a long moment and then nodded.

“Alright, kid,” he murmured, reaching up and squeezing her shoulder. “We’ll stick together.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Time passed differently, after that. Elliot couldn’t have said how long it took them to get to the first motel; it couldn’t have been seconds, or minutes, or months for all that she knew. She was numb when they set her up in a motel room with two beds, she was numb when they checked her scar and redressed it.

“Fucking Christ,” the medic said under his breath when he saw the WRATH wound, still hot and trying its best to scab over. “You poor thing.”

It’s not me, Elliot thought miserably, opening her mouth; but no words would come. All she could think was, I asked for this, I’m not the poor thing, please don’t.

“Hey,” Burke barked out, his voice sharp as he took in Elliot’s crumpling expression. “Let’s get it cleaned and let her sleep, buddy.”

The medic nodded, thoroughly scolded, and worked quickly after that. When he’d finished and she had swallowed two Tylenol dutifully, Burke watched her climb under the covers of the bed and said, “I’ve gotta make a call. You okay in here?”

She swallowed thickly. He was looking at her like he was wary of her. The same way Whitehorse had looked at her.

“Yeah,” Elliot murmured. “I’m fine.”

He gave her a tight, tired smile and then stepped out of the motel room, closing the door behind him. Silence lingered there for a little while; Elliot tried to close her eyes and sleep, her fingers brushing through Boomer’s fur as he dozed, but the low, murmuring sound of Burke talking just outside stirred her anxiety, and each time she closed her eyes she just saw John’s face.

John, holding her face and kissing her, You and me. John, burying his face into her neck, I love you.

John, their noses brushing, We can have a place to belong, Elliot.

John, vicious and unyielding, I’m it for you.

She lurched out of the bed, pushing her way into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her just in time to lean over the toilet and throw up whatever was left in her stomach—which wasn’t much, if the amount of dry-heaving were any indication. Bile burned at the back of her throat, and she thought if she didn’t get a breath of air she was going to fucking die.

Elliot pushed the window open and tried to steady her breathing. Rinsing her mouth out in the sink, she shut the water off and paused, looking at herself in the mirror.

The person that looked back at her was unfamiliar. A stranger. She blinked rapidly, trying to steady herself, but each time she did, she felt less and less familiar with the gaunt, sharp-faced, dark-eyed stranger gazing back at her from the mirror. Some bruises along her neck and shoulders still remained.

Who are you? She thought, tiredly. The one that killed all of those peggies? The one that killed Kian? Why don’t I recognize you?

“... understand that, sir, it’s just—if you saw what was going on...”

Burke’s voice drifted in through the window. He must have been pacing, because the volume of his words drifted and moved, as though he were walking around the corner and then back again.

His footsteps paused. “No, I have not read the autopsy report yet. I didn’t think it pertinent at this time, considering we only just—”

She heard Burke’s words cut abruptly, the sound of his breath leaving him in a sharp exhale, and then he said, “Jesus Christ. No, I didn’t know.”

Oh, she thought hazily, oh, he knows. He knows what I did.

Her body moved automatically. Something inside of her kicked—we’re not done yet, it said, ferocious and furious, sinking its teeth into her and operating her body outside of her own executive function. We’re not fucking done yet.

Elliot pulled her sweater and her shoes on. The late autumn chill drifting through the open window made her mind feel sharp, and clear, and she thought, somthing has to be done, and I’ll fucking do it.

She stuffed a couple of things that felt essential into a bag—painkillers, bottles of water from the fridge, Burke’s gun he’d left on the nightstand closest to the door—and then waited until she heard his footsteps pacing around the corner again before she ducked out of the window.

When she looked back, Boomer had already leapt through the window after her. His eyes were on her, bright, ready.

And then she ran.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

She’s twenty-six, and she’s in a bar.

Or that’s how it would go, anyway, if she was asleep. If she were dreaming, or remembering. But she wasn’t. Elliot was twenty-six, and she was in a bar, and she wasn’t waiting for her best friend to come back with a different drink, and she wasn’t making eyes at a handsome blue-eyed stranger from across the bar. He wouldn’t come over and call her beautiful, and he wouldn’t make her want to be kissed by someone whose face looked a little sharp, and she wouldn’t one day think that maybe she was in love with him.

I’m just a girl, she thought tiredly, staring at the water glass on the counter in front of her. This wasn’t supposed to be my life.

But it was. It was her life. Here she was, sitting in a seedy bar halfway to Georgia, with a U.S. Marshal’s gun she’d lifted sitting in her bag. She’d hitch-hiked a ride back into Fall’s End, grabbed what remained of her things—her ID, what little cash she still had on her, a debit card she was too paranoid to use, dog food—and then she’d taken the jeep parked out behind the Keller’s old place and drove.

And drove. And drove. And drove.

Now, she was twenty-six, sitting in a bar, and there is no Joey coming to rescue her, and there is no John to be a monster that she needed rescuing from.

I’m just a girl. This wasn’t supposed to be my life.

She left the cash for her water on the bar top, hauling herself out of the stool and back out into the parking lot. It was late; the sky was speckled with stars; if she thought hard enough, if she really thought about, Elliot thought maybe, somewhere inside of her, she was going to be okay.

As she climbed into the driver’s seat of the jeep, Elliot turned the key into the ignition and reached into a grocery store bag on the passenger seat, fumbling around for the cigarettes she’d purchased. Her fingers hit hard plastic and she glanced over.

The two little tiny lines on the pregnancy test stared back at her. Her stomach lurched, nausea welling up inside of her, and she tossed the hard plastic back into the bag and left the cigarettes untouched. Boomer, dozing in the back seat, pricked his ears forward and looked at her inquisitively.

She was just a girl. This wasn’t supposed to be her life. But it was—and there was only one place left to go from here.

Home.

#my writing #fic: ancient names #far cry 5 fic #fc5 fic #john seed/deputy #ch: elliot honeysett #ch: john seed #otp: death keep off; i am your enemy #not gonna melt down in the tags even though i wanna #just. thank you all so so so much. this has been incredible to write and enjoy and make so many friends #yes i am crying do not LOOK at me

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legacysam · 3 years

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"#*erases a rant about fandom cas characterization bc god who has the energy*" me. i have the energy. give me the rant.

*cracks knuckles* okay let’s see if any of these particular intellectual muscles still work.

I am always pro-cas-being-canonically-dickish posts (even if they are misleading one way or another, more on that later) because dear GOD this fandom loves to infantalize the man. He’s a “baby in a trenchcoat.” He’s dumb about pop culture and clueless about human things isn’t it adorable? SHUT UP!!!! And pls especially shut up if you’re using his ignorance as a way of making another character look cool or smart by comparison. “it’s a shortened version of my name” was 100% Cas fucking with Dean because he is a dick sometimes! and it’s great! Also: Cas’s indifference to pop culture isn’t a weakness just because pop culture knowledge is a major currency on tumblr!!! It’s indicative of the fact that he’s got much bigger and more important things on his mind. (Also. listen. This trait was canonically erased by Metatron and it was literally the only good thing that fucking character ever did so can we please as a fandom just acknowledge that little slice of canon? pls?)

(Can I also just say.....fish out of water stories are only good when they are on the side of the fish and not just using the fish to make jokes. Just. as a note on the trope in general but specifically re: every time this shows up in fanfic with Cas or any other similar character. Thor comes to mind.)

Anyway Cas isn’t a child, he’s ANCIENT and TIRED and CONFLICTED about major moral issues, which is FASCINATING for an angel character and forces us as an audience to consider more deeply the actual differences between heaven and hell, good and evil, destiny and free will. Is this how we expect an angel to behave? What does this tell us about Heaven? If Cas is an aberration, what does that tell us about Heaven and goodness and God? So his expressions of anger and frustration and his impatience with or indifference to human courtesies are a really great part of his character and people should appreciate them more (and not just when it’s funny!)

(Sidenote bc I always think about this when I think about fandom and Cas, the reductive fandom approach to “””crazy!cas””” (what a fun way of saying “deeply affected by horrible trauma and guilt and trying to repress it so he can function.” thanks for that fandom) as comic relief or a woobified victim is. hm. bad. That’s all I’ll say about that one.)

{ANOTHER sidenote, this one for fan artists in particular but fan writers definitely aren’t free from sin: Cas isn’t pale or short and he isn’t a fuckin twink pls stop projecting weird m/f stereotypes onto your queer ships pls and thank}

ANYWAY about these screenshots specifically: Listen I love this post but the context of these scenes is SO MUCH MORE INTERESTING than Cas being a dick to Sam. They aren’t really about Sam at all, actually. “Don’t ask stupid questions” is such a painful fucking response to Sam asking if he’s okay, because he’s clearly not okay--he’s still struggling with the knowledge that God has given up and abandoned them--but he can’t be vulnerable about it. So he redirects to ask what Sam needs from him because that’s what he does, it’s what he is, he’s a tool. He’s a solution to problems (except his own). And his unwillingness to confront his pain (while also not being able to hide it) isn’t really about his relationship with Sam, it’s about his relationship with God and with himself and his own failures. The visibility of that struggle while he continues to try to help in this episode is just really fucking moving, okay?

Also there’s absolutely nothing hostile about “Sam, of course, is an abomination” in context. Like. Not a damn thing. There’s a task that needs to be performed by a “servant of heaven,” and Cas is explaining why none of the three of them qualify, and we know he feels shame about the fact that HE doesn’t qualify by how he reacts later, calling himself a poor example of an angel. He’s as much an abomination as Sam is in this moment.

Actually you know what? Literally everything in these screenshots that gets interpreted as “Cas hates Sam” is 100% actually Cas hating himself. He hates Sam’s voice while he’s stuck using a human voice himself to communicate, through technology he’s hostile to because it’s limiting compared to angelic communication. He rejects Sam’s compassion because he doesn’t want to talk about his own weakness. He calls Sam an abomination in the same breath that he acknowledges that he isn’t a servant of heaven anymore, and with much less anger than when he later calls himself a poor example of an angel. He sees himself in Sam but he hates himself too much to use that as a point of connection and pushes away from it instead. (I’m not going to go on a shipper detour here but sastiel shippers....you know)

So Cas is angry and complicated and self-hating and yeah, it’s funny, but if you don’t respect those feelings and their complexity, maybe don’t try to write Cas or write about him. Maybe if you only like Cas when he’s making you laugh you don’t actually like Cas.

And this isn’t to be like...”writing fluffy shippy fic with Cas being sweet is bad” or whatever. That fills a need for some people, I get it. I’ve written fic where he’s sweet! There’s a difference between someone lovingly wrapping a character in a blanket and going “nice things will happen for you now” versus using that character for a reductive joke.

There’s also a difference between people who are actually carefully writing fic and people who are, yknow, tagging posts or circulating meme-like gifsets with this kind of commentary. Which, bc I don’t read fic as often anymore, tends to be the most common way anything like analysis of Cas reaches me. I do NOT recommend this method of engaging with fandom because it’s really the worst, unfunniest, most simplistic takes that get repeated over and over again (I would pay money to never see anyone call Sam “moose” or “sammy” again dear lord), and it obscures the actually really good work some folks are doing when they write these characters.

tl;dr 1. Cas is not a child and he is not stupid. 2. Cas doesn’t hate Sam but he DOES project onto him and it’s fascinating. 3. fandom wants to be transformative but bc of meme culture and the way tumblr works it can be painfully reductive and it’s exhausting

ps nb I haven’t watched a single episode since they killed Charlie off and I don’t know much about what happened after that lol. so don’t come at me “well actuallying” bc honestly I don’t care and bc canon has been a dumpster fire for years and all extended analysis of it including my own is really nonsense just by virtue of the source material being nonsense.

pps the showrunners are ABSOLUTELY complicit in this but I can’t. I just cannot get into that. I am too tired.

#i just spent an hour and a half thinking deeply about supernatural you bastard #jk ilu #apparently i still had feelings about this jfc #ALSO (i know shut up mel nobody asked) 99 problems would be one of the best episodes #if they didn't seem to write it specfically for dean to make 'wh*re' jokes #cabalakh #@ everyone who followed me after i stopped watching spn.....#i am so sorry #supernatural #fandom critical #castiel

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slytherinbangchan · 4 years

Text

Sunshine☀️ Chap 1. (Skz Social Media!Au. W narrations)

You met Chris at high school and have been dating since. You love him with all your heart but maybe not in the same way that you used to. You've talked it out with Chris a couple times before but you both always end up deciding to try and save the relationship cause you love eachother so much and it simply hurts when you think about breaking up.

But, how long can you keep this up?

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*

First of all I would like to thank my dear friend Emi for beta reading this au and giving me such useful tips so, again thank you so much💖

About the imessage chats don’t mind the time stamps cause that’s mainly when I was writing and has nothing to do with the characters or story~

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫* 𝐼𝓃𝓉𝓇𝑜✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*

y/n:

Insta -> fire_queen

A bit older than Chris.

Best friends with Minho.

Loves horror movies.

Works at a bookstore.

Wants to become a famous writer.

Doesn't like wasting time but just can't help to procrastinate.

A bit messy.

Chris:

Insta: chris.bang

Lives with Hyunjin and Jisung.

Thinks of Felix as his little brother.

Works two jobs and still got time to try and produce some music with Changbin and Jisung.

Very sweet and caring.

Also responsible and mature.

Doesn't like messy so he's always nagging at y/n and mostly Jisung about it.

Hyunjin:

Insta: lovekkami

Looks like a fuckboy.

He's not.

Loves his dog but can't keep it at his apartment.

He watches dramas with Jisung.

Best friends with Seungmin.

Works at a coffee shop.

Has a lot of 'fans' there.

He likes hugs.

Also enjoys joining Minho and Felix when they meet to practice some choreo.

Seungmin:

Insta: seungminnie.mong.

Likes Jeongin a lot.

Best friends with Hyunjin.

Studying photography.

Lives with his parents.

Loves singing.

Loves Day6.

Selca king.

Very responsible and caring.

Blunt.

Jeongin:

Insta: innieee

Maknae.

Cutie.

Lives with his parents.

Loves pink.

Just finished high school.

Likes to be babied a bit.

Enjoys trot singing.

Likes to mess with his hyungs in a cute way.

Minho:

Insta: xx_lino

A good listener.

Best friends with y/n.

He wanted to dance so he dances.

And he's really good at it.

Loves his cats but they live with his parents.

He goes visit them a lot though.

Lives with Felix and Changbin.

Snow® filters king.

Loves to mess with Changbin.

Likes Jisung.

Felix:

Insta: flex.lee

Works at a dog cafe.

He dances too.

Hardworking.

Lovable.

He cares for Chris a lot and vice-versa.

He likes dogs so he enjoys his job.

Loves videogames.

Lives with Minho and Changbin.

Changbin:

Insta: spearbinnie

A tattoo artist (his clients comment on almost every of his posts on insta)

He enjoys creating songs with Bangchan and Jisung too.

Would like to become a famous producer someday.

Looks intimidating but he's the sweetest.

'Baby Changbin'.

Lives with Felix and Minho.

Jealous of Kkami cause it got to kiss Hyunjin.

Loves Felix.

Jisung:

Insta: hanj914

Recently moved in with Chris and Hyunjin.

Works at the movies.

Loves sleeping but doesn't care losing some sleep if he's working on a song.

Likes dramas and horror movies.

Kinda shy at first.

Likes Minho and Hyunjin a lot.

Would like to become a famous producer too.

Really respects Chris and Changbin even if they argue a lot about their songs.

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 1

You leave your phone aside with a smile on your face. Your heart really jumped a little when you saw Chris's post. It kind of made you feel like when you two started dating years ago. And that's something you hadn't feel in a while. But you don't want to think about that fact anymore. You're so tired of overanalyzing your own feelings. The only thing that matters right now is that you genuinely miss him and can't wait to see him. But the hours go by so slowly as you wait for your shift to end. No one has entered the store for hours and you already re-organized the books a thousand times. A sigh leaving you as you open your laptop. It's time to try and write again but you've been going through writer's block for so long now. It doesn't matter that you only have to fix some details from your book before sending it out cause you just can't bring yourself to do it. Everytime you open the file your heart races and everything itches. Sometimes you just legit feel nauseous before even clicking on it. It's really a pain.

You let out a frustrated sigh as once again your hand moves by its own will and opens twitter. Then suddenly an hour has gone by while watching memes and reading other people arguing about stuff you don't even care about.

At least time is going faster now.

The bells on the store's door ring and you look up to see Jeongin and Seungmin walking in.

'Hey guys, what are you doing here?' You ask as they come to the counter. 'Nothing. We were just around and came to visit you'. Jeongin says with a smile on his face like always. You smile back and ask them to sit wherever they can. 'So I saw on insta you're seeing Chan later. Can you ask him to call me? He's ignoring my texts'. Seungmin says and you laugh. 'He'll call you. He's just super busy lately'. You say. 'Yeah I guess. Is not that important but still... I lent him one of my cameras and I need it for something next month. I know it's soon but knowing how busy he is I think it's better if I tell him now'. He chuckles. 'Yeah, well I can ask him and bring it to you if you want'. You suggest. 'That'd be great actually. Text me when you know if he's okay with that?' He asks. 'Sure'.

The guys spend some more time with you at the store making it less boring to wait for your shift to end. They even wait for you as you close the store. Then walk you to Chris's apartment.

Hyunjin opens the door for you and you sit with him and Jisung who were watching dramas before you arrived. Then they help you pick a movie. Mainly Hyunjin since Jisung is still a bit shy around you.

Chap2

Blog’s masterlist.

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fyrapartnersearch · 4 years

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/// 𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖉 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊'𝖘 𝖆 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖒 ///

Hello dear roleplayers.

For those who are curious, you may call me Imp.

I’ve been hit with a stroke of fate recently which pretty much drained me of my creativity. But I am slowly recovering… and I am looking for some distraction.

 I am a lady in her twenties, with a strong penchant for roleplaying, writing, and drawing. The Holy Trinity if you will. I am a huge nerd and aesthetic lover boy - plain and simple. One of my main passions being video-games, illustrations, comics, live-action films, series and anime/cartoon shows, elements that shaped me during my years of growing up.

 It’s been a while since I’ve posted my first ever ad on any website, and I was very much positively surprised by the amazing people that have reached out to me. I’ve been roleplaying for a few years now and gradually gathered a good amount of experience throughout the years, but it’s always fun to meet and learn something new.

I have a few original ideas that I’m very interested in trying out. The concept will be posted down below.

   Name: Imp  

Age: 27 years

  Experience: 11 years  

Preferences: 1:1 Roleplaying

  Partner: Should be at least [18+], but I rather much prefer my counterpart to be 21 years or older

Timezone: Important to note! I am from Poland, so my timezone might differ from yours.   

EMAIL: [email protected]

I am a very creative sort of individual with hundreds of ideas constantly running through my impish mind. And I am very spontaneous too, so I can always adjust to a new setting, depending on how good and compelling the concept is.  Inspirations come from various sources and origins, be it a fandom (an already existing universe) or an original storyline.   Please read through these paragraphs carefully before you decide to contact me! It’s important to avoid any misunderstanding later! And I would less likely respond to a message with the title ‘Hey, wanna rp?’, since I hadn’t had any good experiences with these said messages. Thank you.      °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°°     Communication: It’s certainly chill. You can talk to me about whatever occupies your mind since I am very open and always happy to listen to others. I also tend to be chatty, sharing a meme or a joke every now and to loosen up the mood. If you consider choosing me as your roleplaying partner, be sure to maintain a certain consistency. I have nothing against going on a longer break or even a hiatus, but the whole `ghosting stick´ is something I have no patience for. So if you’re unsure of upholding a stable, long term partnership, feel free to skim past this ad.     Plotting: Also very important to note! I am fairly quick when it comes to building new characters, concepts, premises, storylines, backstories, etc… This means there is certain flexibility available which allows me to adjust. Even though it is a hobby, I am still extremely passionate about good storytelling and interesting character arcs. I hope to meet someone who is just as enthusiastic and willing to put in the same amount of effort as I am. If it’s only me who’s pulling all the weight, I will lose interest fast, just to get it out there and I will have to end the correspondence. Had that recently and wasn’t a fan of it. Aside from that, I love going a little crazy with the possibilities and push things to their absolute limits. Of course within the boundaries of the given setting.    Pairing & Romance: Okay, right off the bat, I am a hopeless romantic through and through. I enjoy good and strong chemistry between characters just as much as the next, and this will be no exception. I prefer the good ol’ MxF pairing because I have more experience with this. But I also like playing a FxF dynamic or MxM. Everyone is welcome! When it comes to pairing itself, I want to make sure our creations are compatible, for I hate forcing characters into a romantic relationship for the sake of progression. A natural flow is what I am aiming for. ;)    Mature? Yes, very much so: Adult and taboo topics are absolute. There’s no way around it because, if my world, it is a running theme. The adult world is not easy to handle, but it’s definitely interesting to explore. That includes violence, cursing, shocking content, and all that dark stuff. My limits are few, safe for a couple of minor pet peeves that I have, I am pretty much open to some experimentation. When it comes to action-heavy scenes (be it an intimate situation between two characters or something on a cataclysmic scale), I won’t fade to black since I am not a huge fan of censoring. However, I will not force or push my partner into something they are not comfortable with. If you want to know the extent to how far I am willing to go, what sort of content or how detailed my writing will be, you can ask me directly. As for smut or lemons, whatever you call it, it will never be the focus of any of my roleplays, but I enjoy a good erotic scene with a lot of tension (if they are good).    Boundaries: Not a big fan of things like pedophilia, necrophilia, scat, bestiality, or those dreaded ‘futas’.   Inspirations and interests: There’s a pretty broad spectrum of what I deem interesting and inspirational. From fallen angels and demon/monster hunters, mages, criminal masterminds, cybernetically enhanced characters to futuristic dystopian settings, ancient kingdoms who have fallen against the test of time. All of it causes my heart to skip a beat. For original content, I’ll just give a brief list of bullet points of the general themes that fall in line with my current interests.     Writing: My texts are lengthy, detailed, and elaborate. Third-person is usually my preferred way of playing my character unless there’s a special case where an exception can be made. Word count usually fluctuates, though I have a standard form of 400-500+ words per response. It also highly depends on the given situation. I don’t want to set anything in stone… just to give you a basic idea of what you’re in for. I also expect my partner to have an at least adequate, if not decent grasp on basic grammar and punctuation.     Doubling: Yes, absolutely! If you are prone to doubling, chances are I might accept you as my partner straight away! Although I have nothing against the simple form of roleplaying, doubling is something I’ve done since my first time joining.     Characters: Very character-driven with the main focus being on interaction. I take my time writing characters and love nothing more than well-structured sheets that illustrate the vision of their creator. (But!) There’s no need to write 10-20 pages worth of character information, but I wouldn’t want to limit you either. As for the depiction of the given character, I won’t be as presumptuous as to tell you what sort of medium you can and cannot use. Face claims such as photos of real models, illustrations, 3D models, drawings or descriptions are all okay. As long as it gets its point across, I am happy.    Aversions: A few minor things that irritate me, or let’s say, aren’t really my style are one-liners, low effort responses and out of character behaviors in canon characters. We all have different takes on characters, which is totally fine by me since I basically do the same. Though if the character acts and behaves unlike their personality dictates, it will break the immersion. I hope to stay true to my own words when saying this. If it happens on my side, just let me know! Another pet peeve of mine is that one plot that has been done time and time again…. and I’ve grown quite jaded towards it, which is ‘supernaturals trying to fit into human society’ thing… I mean, I’m not opposed to borrowing from this idea, but for me, it grew old pretty fast. Speaking from experience.    Il Passione: My wish is to find a partner whom I can have a good time with and develop some chemistry. After all it is a fun hobby. We both should have fun with what we’re writing. Brainstorming among other things is one of my favorite things to do. To see how things unfold and how the characters react to the given situation is the highlight of any story. °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°°      FANDOM:   I love roleplaying fandoms just as much as I have a blast with building something original universes. Worldbuilding is my preferred cup of tea… but if we opt for something more fandom inspired, I highly welcome in on expanding on the given universe and add some original lore too! The one marked with a * will be the ones I am craving the most.

Hellsing*: Haven’t done that one before and I am curious as to how things play out, especially in such a dark and mystifying universe like Hellsing. There’s a lot of subject matter that we can delve into, plus I am a big fan of powerful vampire characters!

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure*: I would love you for this. No, seriously, I would. This fandom has sucked me into a downward spiral and there’s no possible chance of escaping this inescapable void. The absolute insanity of this franchise had me hooked from the second I laid eyes on it and I would be forever ecstatic if you’d message me on behalf of roleplaying Jojo. I have plenty of ideas for this one, just you wait.

Full Metal Alchemist: One of my favorite mangas and animes ever made. Recently I’ve begun rewatching FMA Brotherhood and felt a small hint of nostalgia swelling inside my blackened heart. I’d be open to play it, though it is not one of my top cravings at the moment.

Justice League / Young Justice / Justice League Dark*: Huge DC fan, though I much prefer the animations and comics over the live-action cinematic. Let’s just say, I like the expansive and dynamic set of possibilities and deep, well-written cast. For instance Hellblazer Constantine or Raven.

Bayonetta: Need I say more? Let’s dance boys!

APH Hetalia: That includes the 2P version ;)

The Boys: Well.. the 2nd season came out. And I am simply stoked.

   °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° ORIGINAL:   My ideas for a plot are versatile in which I can give you if you ask for it (Usually the ones that aren’t listed here). It is however merely a suggestion for what we could write - not a mandatory thing. If you don’t like the idea, we can always figure stuff out and keep on home-brewing till we find something we both can enjoy. There’s no need to immediately end things if the first thing doesn’t really fire you up. The one marked with a * will be the ones I am craving the most.

I will cross the oceans of time just to find you*: So this is something that began to fascinate me more and more as time went on. Our characters existing in our current modern timeline are on the verge of a discovery that could shape the very foundation of history. After they accidentally stumble upon an artefact / edifice unrelated to any culture they’ve seen before, their presence unwittingly activates a mechanism that transports them not only to a different place, but an entirely different timeline. Upon awakening, they find themselves in a mysterious setting filled with archaic cultures, wildlife and mythological figures they believed only to be possible in fairytales. It is now up to them to navigate themselves in a time where uncertainty and superstition was rampant. Where their knowledge from the future could either prove themselves as an advantage or a fatal flaw. Every decision and word will count, forcing you to rethink and carefully plan out your actions. They also come to learn that some of these ancient myths were in fact true, and that monsters as well as godly beings did once exist. Following that trail, they will be faced with the truth as to how and why they were able to travel through time and space. But more importantly, it is where they will find their soulmates, and it isn’t where or when they think they’d be.

Supernatural*: From angels to demons, from gods to monsters, I’ve seen it all and I absolutely love it. There can be any sort of creature or being involved, ranging from vampires to sirens to elves, you have it. However, I’ve never done something quite relating to angelic beings and their offspring before. I’ve read up on Nephilim and angels and found it rather fascinating, and it’s a different approach from the usual vampire vs werewolf cliche.  

Crime and intrigue: I never stray too far from the supernatural path, but hell, there’s nothing better than some good old gritty mafia inspired stories with a complex cast of characters and a solid storyline.

Sci-fi and urban fantasy: So this could be basically anything from genetically engineered superhuman (superheroes / - villains) with a dark take on the human psyche, dismantling the idea of heroism and villainy. Or a world where mankind began their interstellar journey to colonize neighboring planets, galaxies before transcending their own humanity by merging themselves with deadly technology. I have a few plans for this…

Historical and mysterious setting*: So one of my favorite eras is the Victorian time period, 30s - 40s - 80s, Renaissance or Ancient times during the rise of the Egyptian / Roman / Sumerian Empire. During these times, a dark discovery was made by man, learning that they were not alone in this world. In fact, they weren’t even the supreme race that destined themselves to dominate the world, for another race of humanoids have lied dormant deep beneath the earth, slumbering through the millennia only to be re-awakened by a cataclysmic event. These ancient humanoids are gods among men, superior in every way imaginable, and they have made it their mission to reclaim their right to rule. But their nature is not what most people think it is…

    °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°°     If you’re still here and haven’t fallen asleep reading through my loooong paragraphs, then I would like to thank you for bearing with me this far. I am looking forward to your messages.       Have a bright day!

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apothecarywormcrud · 4 years

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do hazama for that ask meme

oh hell yeah

What made me like them:

a friend who wanted me to play blazblue foisted this man upon me with the promise that he was, indeed, a right little bastard and incredibly smug, as well as being kind of a weirdo. i listened to a bunch of his voice lines and i was like yeah ok this dude fucks time to acquire a new hyperfixation.

also i made the mistake of looking at this:

My favorite thing about them:

the man is suave but hes also a fucking weirdo. subsists on nothing but tea and hard-boiled eggs. owns multiple sets of the same suit of clothes. doesn’t know what laundry is. allergic to cats despite being an artificial human. responsible for the fact that i was able to hear mr doug erholtz utter the line, “guess who’s home and not preggers anymore!” uses ‘watakushi’ like some kind of old man. it doesn’t come across nearly as much in english but i like how he presents himself as just like, this very polite but casual dude who’s just slightly unsettling but you can’t quite put your finger on why.

i also like what his character could’ve been bc the concept of like. “vessel split from the being he was made to house finally has the opportunity to discover who he is an individual” is inherently fascinating, esp since up until that point hazama has never experienced true physical or mental pain, and now that he has he’s like huh ok this is new. i need to learn more about this. time to go torture some people about it. which isn’t a great response to becoming a person but like, it’s fuckin interesting! and i wish we’d actually gotten to see more of that development. instead im stuck writing it myself, as is the standard.

Nicknames we have for each other:

hazama and astoria really only ever refer to each other by name or by rank, though hazama will throw in the occasional “my dear corporal” and variations thereupon when he’s feeling frisky.

A headcanon of our relationship:

there’s a timeline where astoria is also a captain instead of a lowly corporal and hazama is both annoyed, because this version of astoria is less easy to bully, but also delighted because things get very interesting when the playing field is slightly more level. this version of astoria actually follows through on their threats! it’s cute.

My favorite image of them:

my absolute favorite hazama artists are @/akilico, who draws him very handsome nd nasty and shit boi i die, and @/meganeya_iwak on twitter! every time i look at these i feel emotions.

Anything else!

mods are asleep post small hazama teatime

#his backless vest is. very good #anyways i love hazama thanks for coming to my ted talk #ass memes #fake boy real estate #raudrfox2

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lizzybeth1986 · 5 years

Text

Quick Thoughts on TRH Book 1 Chapter 5

• Now that we are five chapters into this story, now seems like a good time to get the masterlist of this series out! 😁 Which I will be doing shortly after this QT is up. If you've missed the other chapters, you'll be more easily able to find them all there! I'll also be reblogging my TRR series masterlist sometime this week, since my TRR Book 1 Chapter 5 chapter is close to getting finished as well.

• I'm hoping to get this one out early, it's an extremely light chapter for the most part. It's practically filler, filled with little vignettes between the characters here and there and mostly diamond scenes. The heavy stuff inevitably seems to be left for the actual Walker Ranch (sigh).

• Here are the tags to block if you don't want my QTs to clog up your dash: #long post, #trh quick thoughts, #trh qts, #trh qt reblogs. For now a friend of mine is helping get the read-mores on the main posts, until Tumblr actually does something to make them work on a phone again.

• TW: Brief mentions of the Dr Ramirez scene in Hana's playthrough, and infertility.

• Screenshot Credits:

Hana - @pixieferry

Maxwell - Abhirio's YouTube channel

Drake - @thefirstcourtesan

Liam - Well, me

• Besides being mostly filler stuff, this chapter had a lot of diamond scenes. Two outfit changes (one OOTD and one lingerie for the LI), a group scene and the book's first character scene (Liam).

• A few people I know have been asking me about the differences between "character scenes" and "LI scenes" (and indeed a lot of people were confused by my use of these terms in my Book 3 QTs). So once I get to my general thoughts section, I'll elaborate on those.

• Title: The Open Road

Alternative Title: Enjoy The Fillers, Dear Fans, Coz You Got A Walker-Storm Comin'!

• We're now on our way to the States, barely days after we got back to our own estate. The Council is looking after stuff in exactly the way they have since we left for our honeymoon, except that now it's lost all its core group members besides Olivia. Her, Hana and Kiara must probably share whatever few brain cells exist in that Council between each other.

• If you've unlocked the "casual clothing" scenes for the LIs in Book 2 (Liam's t-shirt, Hana's crop top, Drake's Henley and Maxwell's muscle shirt and Bubbles necklace), that's what they'll be wearing on their journey this chapter.

• Maxwell is now the self-appointed Royal Entertainment Committee.

• Bertrand WOULD be freaking out about spoons.

• Our OOTD today is an off-shoulder crop top with floral designs, and ripped shorts - paired with a blue and pink statement necklace and a few bracelets. Esther DuPont and literally every other MC is more confident about pulling this outfit off than I will ever be.

• Maxwell suggests the outfit in the Liam, Drake and Hana playthroughs, and Hana suggests it in Maxwell's.

• First Stop: Our old workplace in NY! Our manager is no longer around (probably got fired lol) but Daniel is! Or as I still like to call him, Not-Henney 😂

• Hana is so cutely excited about visiting the place where it all begin, a place she must have till now only heard about in the other LIs' stories. Sigh. Wish we'd brought her here earlier.

• Not-Henney has issues with how little attention Maxwell gave to the MC's origins. @callmetippytumbles points out that there's not much you can expect from an author who put his face on the cover of a book about you. Cmon, Not-Henney.

• Told you "Things are Great" would become a meme.

• He now asks what the experience of being an actual Queen/Duchess is like. You can go for the funny route (glam parties that'll make Beyonce jealous. Oh idk, does Beyonce like an overabundance of apples?), the realistic route (speaking about everyone's expectations weighing on you), and the romantic route, which brings out some cute responses in both Not-Henney and the LIs, ranging from delight to awkwardness.

• Oh snap. The paps are here.

• We make a run for it (in two options, with Daniel's help), and keep driving. Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, the MC mentions a motorcycle when speaking about Drake, which makes me wonder in we will end up having a motorcycle scene in Texas itself. I mean, the writers did mention being excited about a scene featuring one in their livestream.

• Maxwell picks the next stop, and it's that engagement barn we built for Liam, apparently. Or the house of Robert, Steve Tennyson's (PM) dad. Where he has found the "biggest ball of string". Only Joy and Hope, my corgis, seem even remotely happy about this.

•

...Okay Maxwell.

Hana needs to roast people more. Roast EVERYONE in that friend group and EVERYONE in that court!

• Fun Fact: This chapter was released on the 50th anniversary of the historic 1969 Apollo 11 moon landing 😁

• As proven from this scene, the few brain cells this group collectively has, all belong to Hana.

• It's now time to check out what the group brought as provisions:

MC: Nothing, she's only here to ask what everyone else brought

Drake: Jerky

Maxwell: Tequila (!!)

Liam: IDK Esther I thought a four-course meal would just fall upon our laps from the heavens

Hana: ME! Bring cookies that I've NOT warmed by the fires wrought from the bowels of the deepest hells??? BLASPHEMY.

As always Hana saves everyone's ass this fine day. I actually quite like this bit with Hana, because it veers a tiny bit more towards "perfectionist" than just simply "perfect". Hana would be the kind of person to worry excessively over being a good hostess, since that's something she's been learning since she was a little girl (remember the tea scene in the flashback).

• We now stop by at Washington DC - Hana's suggestion - because she wanted to look at the cherry blossoms. I was quite chuffed about this when I found out coz I always used to have her down as more of a "plum blossom" girl, and this is pretty close 😁

• That little bit in DC where speaks of the area as "a marvel of both nature and civic engineering" is a nice touch, since Liam has always been associated with monuments and national legends.

• THE PAPS?? AGAIN????

• ...If my spouse and I have to spend ALL our time answering questions about babymaking, where are we going to find the time to babymake, mediapeople? Ever thought of that? Huh? Huh??

• This option is hands down the best fucking option in this chapter lol:

YOU'RE ALL SUCH DORKS ISTG

• We're now in a small town where Liam wants to mingle and be one with the locals. He's not been very successful in doing this in Cordonia (where people can literally look at his face and figure out who he is), but because it's the US and not many people might recognize him here, his chances of not being caught are better.

• This is the first character scene in the new series. It's pretty alright, not a lot of insights or anything, just a simple scene where Liam gets to not worry about acting like a royal, occasionally acknowledge his privilege, be charmingly naive, order milkshakes, and listen to the MC's insights on how she will bring up her/their kid. He does mention it opens some new perspectives on understanding his people, but I'm not sure we'll get to see much of what learnings he will put into action because, yknow, Cordonian commoners are practically invisible.

• This scene is also proof that you can take Liam out of the court but you can't take the court out of Liam.

• It begins with what the MC calls "a sidewalk hello", where she can either guide or massively troll him. The first two options are awkward as hell (I did like the bowing one though lolol coz she tells him he's probably made someone's day with his "courtly manners"), and the third is for Liam to simply ignore the other person and stare at his phone.

• Next scene involves getting Liam to buy groceries...coz he's never brought groceries. Why would he Esther he has a staff.

• They have a choice between fruit, nachos with everything on them (and they weren't kidding about "everything") and chocolates. I chose fruit.

• You also get some cute tidbits about Liam's life growing up in the palace. Here are the important ones:

- Constantine and Eleanor agreed they wanted Liam to be self-sufficient but "disagreed on how far to take that principle" (given what Liam says about her in one of the other options, I'm guessing Eleanor wanted to take it a lot more further).

- Liam can make spaghetti carbonara!!!

- Laundry: So there was this one time Leo and Liam played tag close to a champagne tower at an event, and it fell down. Eleanor insisted they "clean up the mess [they] made. A reasonable lesson in decorum and consequences". I kinda like this little crumb of info considering there is so little we know about her.

- Eating leftovers: Liam used to have sleepovers at Jackson and Bianca's quarters, and he tells us he was "proud to help Drake's mother microwave the leftovers" coz to his little mind he thought that was cooking 😁 I know, I know, I believed my mom when she put a tiny bit of coffee powder in my milk and told me it was actual coffee haha.

- Doesn't know how to do dishes. He knows soap and water is involved lol.

• The final part of the scene involves Liam treating himself at a diner with (what else!) a milkshake, while casually chatting with the MC about how she feels about the simplicity of her past life, and the way she plans to bring up her (or their) own child.

• Liam not immediately understanding that utensils are self-serve reminds me of Hana's confusion at the idea of a McDermots not having wait-staff.

• The MC has options for how to respond to Liam's question about bringing up a child - 1. I'd like my child to be practical and aware of their role, they don't need to learn how to fold a bed sheet or do dishes. 2. I want my child to have a bit of both worlds so that they're more flexible in their approach. 3. My child should be acutely aware of what the common person in Cordonia goes through if they're going to have to rule fairly over them. These three options in some way allow you to imagine what the MC would be like as a mother, and what upbringing this 'heir' might have.

•

I've never actually seen YOU make much of an effort to find out in Cordonia.

• There's also a tiny bit about Regina that follows this optional dialogue if you're married to him, which I really like: Liam states to Esther that those are "wise words from the wisest queen I know", following which she points out that he's lucky Regina hasn't heard it. Liam's response to that is: "after all this time, I think she'd agree with me". Regina's kinda grown on me over the series, and I do hope we see her again!

• Overall the scene's alright. It's there, it's cute, it's filler like the rest of the chapter. Only time will tell if it will actually result in anything in the future, which kind of leads me to wonder what Character Scenes are going to look like going forward (now that the LI scenes mostly perform the function for both characterization and romance). But the biggest takeaway right now for me is what Liam has to say about his parents, and optionally about his mother. I think that may point towards something later on.

• LMAO @ the random stranger in the diner optionally thinking Liam's brother might be Thor. Leo would be pleased 😂 Also a nice touch to see her recognize us again at the lingerie store if we buy both scenes!

• We now have a scene featuring the couples in their hotel bedroom, where the LI and MC have either had a bit of a wild night, or where the MC has just finished her at-home fertilization procedure (if the LI is Hana). There's a little chit-chat here and there about the moments they have now and about privacy, but it's different in the case of Hana.

• You finally get the chance to ask about how she feels, and this is the response:

• That's it then, I guess 😒 I'm honestly not surprised, given how much in a hurry they were to have Hana concentrate on the MC in the doctor's office itself. I'll expand more on this later.

LIAM. YOU FOOL. I'M WEARING IT RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.

• Honestly I don't see the point in having the MC suggest the lingerie in Liam's playthrough (the others basically make the suggestion instead, and they say "well, you're wearing that", instead, implying that they're talking about what she has on already) if they're not going to code it properly.

• The actual lingerie scenes are pretty cute! And fun! And comes with cool dialogues options, and this:

• NOW I know why Hana's lingerie was head and shoulders above the rest. SHE WAS THE ONE WHO CHOSE IT.

• So here's a rundown of all four LI scenes:

- Liam: The clerk from the store (who was also the girl who noticed Liam in the Incognito Scene if you bought that) recognizes Liam and the MC, freaks out and closes the store so they can shop in full privacy. The rest of it is cute playful banter, like expressing surprise at this being Liam's first time at a lingerie store. She then chooses black silk boxers with a golden baroque design. LMAO trust the MC to get him a Versace. 😂

- Drake - Tells the MC he likes it when she takes the lead. The MC then gets to ask him whether he would be down to wearing handcuffs or pink feathers. To the second option, Drake claims that he would "wear a tutu and crown if you told me you had a thing for the sugar fairy". LMAO they really are desperate to show us how much they learned from the "pink cake" fiasco. Pity how they couldn't teach themselves to treat their one female LI with respect. Anyway, the MC chooses red silk boxers with polka dots (!!)

- Maxwell - This scene is a fever dream from start to finish. Maxwell is happy and excited and SUPER SUPER enthusiastic, asking the MC to drop a beat so he can break into a dance at the store. The MC chooses blue silk boxers with squid designs on them. EVEN MAXWELL CANNOT CONTAIN HIS SHOCK. (PS: This scene marks the third appearance of "release the kraken!" 😄).

- Hana - Hana has apparently seen shops like these from the outside but has never been to one (same sis same). She speaks of how she never had anyone to do it for, which is why she is so happy about it now coz she can do it for the MC. A sweet, simple conversation. The difference here is that Hana knows what she wants, and chooses the lingerie herself: a beautiful lace and fishnet number with garter belt and stockings. She looks amazing and part of that is because unlike her friends, she realizes that her wife has deplorable fashion sense.

• It's now the next day, and Drake tries really hard to hoodwink everyone into making his "next stop" the Walker ranch, but the Royal Entertainment Committee threatens him with an "intimidating interpretive dance performed by me" (is he going to jump out the car and sing Kiki Do You Love Me too?). It's enough to scare Drake into picking a nicer stop.

• It's now time to listen to some tunes!! Everyone squabbles a little over what music to choose and the MC gets to pick either of them:

- Hana's Choice: A piano concerto that Liam loves, makes Drake cry and Maxwell go all happy-sleepy.

- Liam's Choice: Chartbusters. "Top 40s". Drake is surprised coz the last time they drove together, Liam made him listen to 52 versions of a single Bach sonata, to which Liam cheekily responds that doing so made him figure out which one was Drake's favourite.

- Maxwell's Choice: Some song that Maxwell did a deejay mix to, and apparently Liam (and presumably Drake) lent backing vocals to. Going by Liam's advance apology it must be pretty fucking terrible.

- Drake's Choice: Classic rock tunes that he can do air-guitar to. Liam concedes it has rhythm, Drake responds that it has rhythm and attitude. He tries to do air guitar in the car but Hana, panicking, reminds him that he's the one driving.

- What Would Have Been Bertrand's Choice/We Shall Drive In Silence!: Apparently when the MC says this, Maxwell says that she channeled Bertrand so hard "he flashed before my eyes". The MC reasons that if no one wants to listen to anyone else's music they might as well be quiet. Maxwell tries to bring up other alternatives such as playing his kazoo-tar, at which point EVERYONE agrees that silence is golden.

• This bit is one of my favourites in the chapter. Probably the second after "say cheese" haha.

• It's Hana's turn to drive and Maxwell is helping her by asking she carve that path from her heart. Which she does, even though she has mentally memorized the next twelve steps she needs to take.

• Liam drives, explaining when the MC asks that Drake was his first driving instructor (Drake had his licence already and they may have used a royal golf course or two for practice runs).

• Maxwell finds a new waypoint: Thrilltown. His reasoning is quite poignant (everything is changing, the MC and LI - in some cases him - will be having a child soon and everyone will be busy in their respective roles, when will everyone be together like this again?). The rest of the group comfort and reassure him, stating that they will probably see more of each other now. In any case...perhaps to Maxwell this is like a last hurrah to the carefree life he used to have.

• We start with choosing rides. Maxwell and Drake choose The Accelerator, which Maxwell describes as "fast. furious. and it uses gravity at speeds that Thrilltown can't legally release to the public!". Hana and Liam choose the "gentler" option - the carousel - which has you ride unicorns, griffins, dragons and other fantastical beings.

• I'm surprised the writers don't have him react even a little to the carousel, considering one of his scariest experiences took place on one (Book 1 Chapter 16). Just show him say "yeah...I'll pass" or show some emotion or other. It's like that armoury scene in his playthrough of Book 3 Chapter 11 where Madeleine could mock Liam about his feelings for the MC and Maxwell is pretty much sitting there not reacting. It's so lazy. I can't.

• Carousel with Liam and Hana: I loved this one, very cute. The carousel has fantasy elements and mythical animals, things that both Liam and Hana love. The MC gets to sit on a phoenix (like her optional Valtoria sigil!), Liam on a dragon (like the royal family's old crest! Dom would be proud) and Hana on a unicorn (which suits her particular style of whimsy). It's cute and fun and sounds exactly like the kind of thing Liam and Hana would enjoy.

The Accelerator with Maxwell and Drake: They call it EXTREME, and it lives up to its name. Maxwell is ecstatic obviously because he's a thrill-seeker and a ride like this is completely in his wheelhouse. Drake gets caught red-handed handed actually enjoying the ride.

• We try out something called The Vortex of Terror, where Liam challenges his friends to not scream up until the end of the ride. Ironically he's the first one to cave 🤣🤣

• "I accept your terms, Liam...as long as you're prepared to lose". Badass enough to challenge the king of the country xD (considering the way that ride goes, I think she was right haha).

• I need more Competitive, Sarcastic Hana outside of cute group scenes.

• One of two people can win this challenge: either the MC or Hana. If the MC wins, she gets to hoist herself on the LI's shoulders towards the next ride. If Hana wins, she perches herself on top of Drake's because he's pretty damn tall.

• Our last ride is called "Lover's Leap" and it's pretty much the romantic portion of the group scene, really.

At the end of it, the LI brings you a green candy drink, and then lets you know how this trip to Thrilltown is representative of their journey together and the change the MC has brought to their lives.

• Both Hana and I have no freaking clue what Liam means when he says "I call shotgun" before they head out.

• Lol @ Cordonia having its own version of "Ninety Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall". And of course it's going to feature Cordonian Rubies 🤣

• We now reach the ranch, where those of us who didn't marry Drake meet his mother Bianca for the very first time (in every other playthrough she is called "The Rider" and in Drake's her sprite is addressed by name).

• There ends the chapter, on a 'suspicious' note, the kind that seems to sound like things are suspicious but they're probably not. Bertrand's head must be exploding from the lack of spoons.

General Thoughts:

• It's a good thing this filler chapter exists, even if it's mostly inconsequential fluff, because at least that's one chapter less to deal with BertVannah and Drake and his family.

• It's also pretty expensive because the writers knew their crowd by now and know that that crowd is willing to spend.

• The scenes were in keeping with the mood of the chapter - light and fluffy, lots of friendship and some amount of romance. I ended up liking the free short scenes more than any of the diamond ones this chapter honestly.

• So...on the outset, it seems good that the MC is able to check on Hana, post the visit to Dr Ramirez. Hearing Hana's answer, however, brought back every issue I've ever had with the way they've written Hana.

I mean, sure, not everyone reacts the same way to such painful news. I understand that. But here the writers are basically using Hana to minimize what she's going through. They use her to dismiss her own pain with "oh that's okay, I'm just happy that at least you can carry that baby". All that proves is that the female LIs' experiences and pain mean nothing in front the MC's needs.

I've spoken before about the numerous times Hana's pain had been brushed aside or her space eaten into, to favour particular characters, and this just happens to be a repeat of the same formula. This is especially bad because it proves that the only reason they put Hana through this kind of hell in the first place is so that only the MC can carry the child. Her condition isn't allowed to be anything else other than a plot convenience: not an opportunity to open a conversation on this, nor to help develop her as a character. It's merely a narrative device meant to make coding easier. It's dismissive, lazy and reeks of a deplorable lack of care. And again I have to ask, why put her through this if you're so desperate to ignore it afterwards??

• The other big problem is that considering the gravity of that situation, why is checking on her an option rather than actual default dialogue?? If you choose the option to continue talking about playlists instead, the topic just never emerges again. Again I have to ask, what the hell kind of wife is the MC? I mean even before they got the news, the MC was pretty much doing nothing. She wasn't planning for Hana, she wasn't thinking much in terms of what to do for her, everything seems to just revolve around her even in a scenario where either one could have been a mother.

• The lingerie scene seems to me to have elements of a type of diamond scene in the flagship series - the ones where we could buy new casual clothing for our LIs in NY. The LI requires a new look, the MC suggests for a change and often picks out something that she thinks would work (some of her choices - like Liam's pants or Drake's sunglasses are...questionable 😅), and from then on this would be their option for ultra-casual occasions. The one casualwear scene that is different from all these is Maxwell's: he gets his sleeveless shirt and Bubbles necklace at a shop in Coney Island, during the group scene (I think part of this was that they were attempting a step-by-step LI-upgrade because they were a new couple at that point...which was why his first 30 diamond scene was during the Gala, after they'd been together for a little while. Still doesn't excuse all the ways they ignored his background and history though).

The main difference between the casualwear scenes and the lingerie ones is that the first dealt put the MC and LI in different situations and dealt with different issues (therefore was a scene of its own) and the second really just revolved around the lingerie. Perhaps the lingerie scene would be what you'd call an 'extended outfit option'? As opposed to something that's a scene all on its own?

• I was actually quite surprised we got a character scene in this series. Given how much they'd drastically cut down on them in favour of beefing up their LI scenes more, I was fully expecting not to see them. I do prefer them to the LI scenes sometimes, because my LI is not the only one I want to be keeping tabs on, and I do want to know what's happening in their lives.

• What is the difference between the two? I hear some of you ask. Well, good question because I'm about to launch into one of my long-winded explanations again.

• Diamond Scenes in TRR/H: I've been holding off on writing about these, since I believed that the series probably had done away with character scenes and preferred to use LI scenes for both romance and development. With this chapter, I now understand that's not the case.

• So...simply put, the difference between an Character Scene and an LI scene, is that the first focuses on the same character in all playthroughs (eg. no matter who you are romancing, if you buy these scenes it's Hana who will play Snow Angels with you, or Drake who will go fishing with you), and the second focuses on who you are engaged/married to (eg. If I'm romancing Hana, I will not be going to the movies with Liam. If I'm romancing Maxwell, I will not be having a cake testing session with Drake).

During Books 1 and 2, when the MC wasn't altogether exclusive with any LI as such, each character would have their own specific scene which expanded further on their characterization and gave the MC a chance to learn more about them. Most of the romance in these scenes were by choice, with the exception of a few lines here and there. The writers tried to continue this way of formatting diamond scenes even beyond Liam's proposal, but the amount of backlash from the portions of the scenes that involved the MC cheating on her confirmed LI...kind of made them backtrack on this plan quite a bit.

Book 3 switched the format up a little. It was similarish in a lot of ways to RoE, except that unlike that book (where the other two would disappear once you got engaged to one), we were also friends with the other LIs. Besides outfits and plot development scenes (such as the one in the Nevrakis replica armory with Olivia and Gladys) and group scenes, the book also offered two types of scenes for the reader to connect with the characters they liked:

1. LI Scenes: These scenes are meant for the LI the MC is marrying, and are coded differently based on that. This kind of scene was first used in the series in the first chapter of Book 3, where the MC and LI could comfort each other in the safe house. The initial chapters had a similar approach to the scenes as RoE Book 3 (where Mr Sloan, Leo and Dean all ended up sounding like each other), in that the dialogues sounded pretty cut-and-paste, with little to no actual variations beyond a few things (an example of this was how - in the Book 3 Chapter 6 Spa Scene in Applewood - all the LIs spoke of being "dumb in love" with the MC - which suited certain LIs, but sounded extremely jarring on others.

During Book 3, a high number of complaints about the series revolved around this copy-paste routine for the LIs, mostly because the characters were so different from each other, and wouldn't speak the same or even have the same experiences. Around Book 3 Chapter 8, major shifts began to happen in the way these scenes were written, starting with the Movie-going Scene in Castelserraillian. Post that chapter, and the hiatus, there was a significant decrease in the number of individual character scenes, and an increase in both number and quality of the LI scenes. It is very possible that they found juggling both stressful and dialed back on one to personalize the other further.

2. Character Development Scenes: These were scenes with the LI that you got regardless of whether you were marrying them or not. This scene would be viewed over all playthroughs, with differences based on whether you were marrying them or not. If you were not marrying them, these scenes would appear neutral and the romantic options would simply not be there, or be replaced by more neutral ones. Examples of such scenes include Drake's Cordonian Waltz Scene in Fydelia (Book 3 Chapter 3), Liam's Gastrodiplomacy Scene in Castelserraillian (Book 3 Chapter 7), Hana's Polo Scene in Portavira (Book 3 Chapter 5) and Maxwell's Armoury Scene in Lythikos (Book 3 Chapter 11).

The most important thing to remember is that these scenes are expected to be coded differently (according to your relationship with said LI), not only by adding romantic options for the MC to choose, but also in the actions of the characters by default. For instance, the Fydelia Cordonian Waltz scene in Drake's playthrough incorporates - by default - all the sensuality you should be finding in this waltz, while his friendly playthrough is merely the MC teaching him the basics so they have an edge over Neville. By default, if you buy the Gastrodiplomacy scene as Liam's fiancée, the chocolate souffle you sampled with him would feature at your wedding reception.

I say the scenes were expected to be coded differently, because very often they were not. In a lot of cases the only proof you'd have in those scenes that the LI and MC were even together were from the MC's actions. For instance, even though Hana was going to be a duchess on marriage to the MC, the same as Drake - only Drake got to speak in detail about it. This opportunity came for Hana very briefly only by Chapter 14, well past the midpoint of Book 3.

• So when Book 3 began the formula was mostly "leave the character scenes for developing the LI's issues or getting them to teach something, and concentrate on nothing else but the romance for your LI scenes". However this wasn't exactly workable given how different each LI was and therefore how odd some of their dialogue sounded. The dial back is understandable (though, as someone who has looked through various playthroughs in this book, I can tell you the imbalances found across character scenes were on a whole different level).

• Why I've elaborated on this is to give context to a question I now have about the narrative: what are the Character Scenes going to look like from here on out? Post the hiatus, they would vary - they could be mostly plot-driven, or fun and light but not much depth or variation, or fun and light, and also opening up diverging conversations based on your relationship. Now that they seemed to have locked down some format in this book at least, what's it going to sound like?

The Liam Character Scene today was fun, light, had default differences based on whether you were marrying him or not, but ultimately had very little to give to the story other than a few facts about Liam's home life and (in a way that expands on what we already know about her and her dynamic with Constantine) his mother. What exactly does he learn? What new insights is he getting as a King who self-admittedly exists and operates in a "statesman's bubble"?

It also remains to be seen whether buying this scene will have any effect of future events - like Liam's Applewood Tour Scene, where his retelling of King Fabian's story had an impact on our conversation with Kiara's mother Joelle. I'm probably going to keep track on how these character scenes are being written in this series, considering that we already have a pretty good idea of how their LI scenes are done.

• Twice I've seen Eleanor associated with pasta. In Book 1 Liam mentions simple tomato pasta as a childhood dish that reminded of his mother, and here shortly after he speaks about his parents he mentions knowing to cook spaghetti carbonara. IDK what that's supposed to mean but I'm bringing it up anyway. I'm mean, what if it's a part of Auvernese cuisine 😂

• I guess that's it for this week! Time for me to scram and finish my Book 1 Chapter 5 QT too before the next chapter drops!

#long post #the royal heir #anti the royal heir #trh quick thoughts #trh qts #infertility tw

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mas-ai · 5 years

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Not necessarily related to the ask meme but what do you like abt eiichi? I'm glad u do like him, he's a very special and good boy, but he's polarizing and I'm always curious as to why people like him

Okay, I just want to get one thing out of the way before we get into this because this is going to be a bit of a rollercoaster. (It's me, isn't it always? but i mean hey ho unfollow if u want because your dash is your own and i want you to be happy with who you're following. it's your account, you have the right to unfollow who you like. c:)

Disclaimer: (I know you won’t take this out of context, this is just in case someone comes across this post and only this post of mine and doesn’t read through my endless devotion to all charas and takes this all wrong ;;) I haven't seen Legend Star in the mindset of being an Eiichi stan and I haven't listened to HEAVENS radio. I fully believe that Legend Star does not give us enough of an insight into HEAVENS nor does them justice as characters being introduced into the "main" Prince roster. Personally, I consider them as still flat characters despite their developments, that are still in the process of being fleshed out. That said, I haven't seen LS in some time and I don't remember every single detail. Anything I say here is based on my awful memory, headcanons and current mindset with the knowledge I have that will absolutely shift, change and grow in the future - just like Eiichi. I will also say, some mentions of character hate are below and some things are going to be worded a little harshly based on -past- opinions and first reactions (way back when Revolutions was released). I do not support character hate. All boys are best boys and all of the characters are fantastic, even if some of them are not among my personal favourites.

OKAY! LET'S GO, FRIEND.

...... I know you asked something extremely simple but I'm not a simple person and I kind of just want to vent write this in hopes a lot of good hcs and stuff come out of it. My short answer to you is:The thing I like the most about Eiichi is how he is written to be a negative foil to STARISH as a whole in the manner that Quartet Night attempted to be. QN did not succeed in this role, but Eiichi remains the powerhouse that introduces new problems into the narrative without being a complete asshole. He retains a personality that is complex, narrow-minded and realistic; he's that piece of the puzzle that brings this fantastic fantasy life into real life because we all know 'that guy'. But sometimes we fail to see two things: 'that guy' has a life and reasons for why the way he is -- and more often than not, sometimes, we ourselves our 'that guy' in some situations. His flaws.

When Eiichi, Nagi and Kira were introduced it seemed at first to me like they were nothing more than a complete money-grab an attempt to re-invest in an anime that perhaps was beginning to meet its end in terms of where it could go with a plotline. It was obvious that Nanami was going to remain impartial and oblivious to the advances of those around her and while we were going to continue to get singular episodes as "routes" no real romance was going to occur. Moving STARISH forward as a whole, something heavily built upon in the first season, was entirely dropped. There was starting to be a major lack of overarching plot for the series. Yes, every specific episode had a main plotpoint - but the anime was starting to lack an overall goal. Nanami herself seemed to slowly start to disappear from the series and ghost into the background and the characters already know each other for the most part; they weren't tossed into too many new situations to continue developing.

We see so many "bits" of things just sort of.. very lightly ghosted over in the anime and then left to be forgotten. Examples through the seasons include Natsuki's backstory, Ai's story, Reiji/Aine, Ranmaru's history (is it even canon to the anime he was friends with Masato and Ren when they were younger?) - and of course, Camus, who hasn't had a lick of development. (I love you Camus. Anime does not do you justice.)

Before this too is taken out of context, I want to state the anime is my favourite media of the series and I'm not hating on it at ALL. It's what got me into UtaPri and kept me in UtaPri for as many years as I've loved it and is very near and dear to my heart - I'm just saying, it's not delving into plotlines that it could. It's remained the light-hearted, airy, soft anime where all problems tied off at the end of each episode and that was that. Short and sweet. Yes, the story does move toward Triple S: but let's be real, we all know the outcome from the second the concept is introduced. STARISH will win. Of course they will. It's about STARISH.

Heck, Revolutions' plotline is about their change and becoming on par with Quartet Night. Quartet Night wasn't done justice in the anime at all. I'm so thankful we got more of them in Revolutions, but they seemed to have this strange "friendly but rival but friends but also lol maybe we'll take Nanami from you but none of us are actually going to propose that to Shining ever". It was just this weird loop. Again, all good boys, love the anime, great dynamics between them - but the plot as a whole was just... it was starting to get stale and repetitive with the sole focus on being this one tiny part of the world.

Enter HE☆VENS. Or, more specifically -- enter Eiichi.

☆ They expand upon the world of UtaPri quite significantly and open so many doors. (Gates? lolol.) Not only is another group brought into the mix without an established relationship that will dominate dynamics (senpai/kouhai, where STARISH must lean on Quartet Night and QN must mentor which kind of takes away from the "rivalry" potential.) They're starting from absolute scratch and bringing in an entirely new agency. From the way it's translated, it also sounds like HE☆VENS may have been around before STARISH but been established after Quartet Night. We're also introduced to Raging, who provides a lot more backstory for Shining.

☆ HE☆VENS poses a legitimate threat to taking away Nanami AND have made attempts to do so. They tried to force her to join them in 2000%, then tried to steal her in Revolutions and eventually asked her to join them in Legend Star. Eiichi made most of these attempts himself.

☆ Eiichi is extremely sly and smart. When his group was not disbanded, he instigated efforts to better everyone and they spent a year filling the group and practicing to storm in at the end of Revolutions. He knows full well that the winner wouldn't take their victory against HE☆VENS and would want a decisive concert. Which, potentially could have meant Quartet Night or STARISH being disbanded should HE☆VENS win.

☆ While the rest of the group does soften considerably through Legend Star, EIICHI DOES NOT. He retains every fiber of the personality we first meet him with, at all times. To better explain the point here, I'll make an example of Nagi who originally came off as extremely bratty and high-handed who didn't really treat his bandmates that well. Later on, he's softened and instead of being high-handed, he adopts an annoyance similar to Syo's in most situation and loses that more brash side of him that we see when he slaps Natsuki's hand away - like with Shion. He has a clear affection for them and becomes a little more kind around them and not just in private with them. Eiichi, on the other hand, is developed in a different way, where he continues to be that strong-minded individual who acts out of lack of self-confidence. Fake it until you make it. Even when in private with his bandmates, he continues to keep up all the attitude we first meet him with. He continues to try to keep control of every situation and be a reliable leader, even to the point of emotionally manipulating even his bandmates (we see this even more with Otoya, too.) He grows, yes. Does he /change/? .. I don't really think so. Do we still get to see more sides of him? Yes. Do we see how he displays his love for others? Yes. But this is all done without 'losing' that edge he was first introduced to have. He is extremely, extremely responsible - but even when the time comes for consequences, he remains true to himself by manipulating the situation. He takes the fall for others, he uses his words to change perspectives, he takes control, he remains a leader.

☆ He doesn't change his views. When he's trying to bring out what he sees as the best in Otoya, he does it in a manipulative way that is in line with his personality and is an echo of how he was treated as he was growing up. He doesn't try to "inspire and move Otoya's heart through the power of music" like he might've if he fell head over heels in love with Nanami and had those feelings change who he was as a character. (Some just seem to swap personalities completely after falling for her, to me?) We see the flaws in him as this happens and how some people's minds are sometimes slightly skewed by their perspectives as Otoya goes 'darker' and Eiichi is pleased with how things are progressing. It's not being done to intentionally destroy him, but rather bring out another side of Otoya - and honestly, it looked to me like he was ready to offer a position in HE☆VENS to him. Which, again, is an active act against STARISH.

☆ this boy puts up with legitimately zero shit and if someone is not treating one of his boys right, he doesn't stand for it. i'm a bit concerned about potential discourse so i'm not going to name characters or exact situations out of respect for the characters & their fans, but there are some points in the series where certain characters treat others like. absolute. garbage. nothing is done about it. nobody has enough of a backbone to stand up and call the behaviour out, save maybe one. it's written off and dismissed. eiichi doesn't put up with it for a second. if you fuck him over, or upset someone in his group, or make a mistake -- just like how he has known ALL HIS LIFE -- there is a consequence. if he has to be the one to give it to you, he damn well will.

☆ eiichi has a backbone and is probably one of the most incredibly written characters in the anime yet despite being a flat character.

☆ ALSO HE IS INCREDIBLY PASSIONATE. LIKE SO, SO INCREDIBLY PASSIONATE IN A WAY THAT PUTS EVEN MASATO TO SHAME. Or rather, not to shame, but he has this... aggressive, confrontational, go-getter passion. An ambitious passion. For everything he does, for everyone who takes more than twelve seconds to give him the time of day and get to know him for who he is. He’s where he is because of those people and he just... he shows it by trying to be this rock that everyone around him can rely on all the time but really he is suffering so much on the inside. But he’s so selfless and not in a “look at how selfless i am!! pity me!!” way. He just genuinely wants to support those who stand by him. this is one loyal baby boy.

I have five thousand more points I could drive on and on about, but I'm going to cut this here because I'm starting to get a little bit upset about how he (and his beloved HE☆VENS are treated.) Anyway, I have to admit that what started my love for Eiichi was extremely small. It was nothing more than an answer to an ask that I wasn't even the one to send in. If it wasn't for someone with one of the most beautiful shows of love for this series that I have ever seen and their simple but beautiful art, some of the cutest I've ever seen - if it wasn't for how deeply they care about their blog and followers and the detail and care put into their work... I probably wouldn't have even given Eiichi the time of day. This blog was one of the first I ever followed and absolutely one that makes my day with their content. So thank you, @uta-no-fakku-sama for being such a massive part of this fandom in my eyes. Thank you for all you do and thank you for introducing me to a new favourite boy and putting up with the ridiculous amount of asks I send in, especially for him - I think I'm literally every anon... most of them, for sure.

So there we go! Those are just some of the reasons why I like him so much, or maybe even just a massive and overblown explanation about one main reason I like him? I don’t know. I hope this was satisfactory!

#pescado-diabolico #tea? me? where #long post #tw: long post #no there's no readmore #there probably should be but there's not so :u #aggressively loves eiichi #eiichi thirst #my writing #my posts #heavens #utapri #asks #i'm still new to my love for him and to him as a character but i really hope this grows through the legend star watchthrough

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mxndwitch · 4 years

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the be honest meme. aka things you lowkey want to talk about but don’t because you don’t know how to bring it up. send me a number and i’ll tell you the honest truth. either a simple yes or no answer or a detailed response.

@serumsoldiers asked: 1, 34, 38

1. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞?

I am rather selective, so there is quite a number of things that will make me iffy about following. First of all, I am someone who writes long posts and I have no love for one liners. That is probably the first thing I check for in new blogs and often the main reason for not following back. We all write shorter things every once in a while, but if a blog ONLY writes one liners, I just know we won’t go well together. I cannot put my character’s feelings, depth and thoughts into three lines and do her justice and I just prefer another form of writing. That is in no shape or form anything personal, but my main exclusion criteria I feel. Other than that, the usual reasons apply: content that is questionable ( eg sex with minors, extreme abuse/gore/sexual abuse etc ), a page that doesn’t prove the necessary information about the character ---- stuff like that.

34. 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐲?

I have indeed! It happens very rarely & I can’t say it happened in this fandom before, but I know I once killed my chara in a group verse bc I wanted to stop writing her and that definitely was quite emotional, after having written her for 5 years with the same group of people, because it wasn’t only the end of an era, but all characters were extremely affected by the loss and it was just wonderfully angsty xD

38. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐩?

Oh dear, there is so much you should put out there for newbies, so they don’t run head first into misery. First of all: have fun. Don’t let others tell you what to do, or how to write the character you love. This is a hobby and you should enjoy it foremost, screw everyone else. Second: be suspicious of people! Unfortunately, the internet is full of liars and drama queens, so always keep a healthy amount of good judgment and suspicion when getting close to people. Don’t believe everything they say, don’t let them drag you into drama, try to make your own opinions about people and don’t listen to others. Especially, never let anyone tell you who to rp with, or not. That is not for them to decide. Third: Your speed of replyin doesn’t define the quality of your content. This is not a job, but a hobby. Don’t feel pressured to be super active and force out replies, because that will ultimately kill your muse and love for writing!

#ooc #mun things #answered #serumsoliders #thanks for asking that!

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noxian-rose · 7 years

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Name: Lily 🌺 Age: 19 Faceclaim: For LeBlanc it’s Morticia Addams, but I’m not showing my face :^)

Pronouns: She/her Height: 5′ 2 Birthday: November 15th Aesthetics: She is the last note before the crescendo in an orchestra, the soft wind that makes the branches of trees rap against the windows of your bedroom window at night; the flicker of a candle that’s been newly lit and the last wisps of smoke that evaporate into the air when it’s blown away. An enigma hidden in the shadows but in plain sight, a carnation in bloom and the hum of a forgotten song. The sound of whispered musings, the touch of a burning sun and the stare that could send anyone reeling with lust or fear in a single second; the scent of lavender and the gentle sound of a page being flipped. Fire crackling from it’s place in the hearth, a laugh that pierces past dead humor.

Last song you listened to: Be Real by Phoebe Ryan (wow Lily how ironic of you)

Favorite muse(s) you’ve written: LeBlanc, Cassiopeia, Jhin respectively. ( I also liked Katarina a bit but I didn’t write enough of her to truly enjoy it.)

What inspired you to take on your current muse (that you are posting this on): This is actually a long drawn out story of lots o’ trouble of finding satisfaction in my writing and inspiration from a fellow writer on Tumblr. To sum it up, I hated LeBlanc. A lot. To the point that whenever I saw her in lane while playing the game I wanted to just ff@20 because I knew she would literally kick me in lane with the champions I played with at the time. I hated her but I also began to love her character after reading an incredibly beautiful fanfic called ‘ Vici ‘ it was based on old lore but dear lord I loved it. After that I chose to I write for her because I loved her personality and the small little things no one noticed in her judgement (also because I sought a challenge). I would have chosen someone else like Lux or Sona as I love their characters dearly, but it just didn’t offer me the same opportunity to revolutionize my prose and teach me something new that I haven’t done before.

What are your favorite aspects of your current muse: I suppose this is more of a love/hate thing but LeBlanc is incredibly open to interpretation and is so easily moldable that I can link the most obscure things to her and make it work without much struggle. I’m also a fan of how ambitious and aspiring she is in her goals, alongside of course the dedication she has to keeping her organization operational not just for her own gain but for those involved as it’s members. No she may never be a true mother, but she is a true Matron who will go through hell and come out as it’s queen to protect her people. She’s also incredibly subtle and eloquent? That in itself is enough of a showcase to draw me to her. (And draw me like a moth to a flame she did.)

What’s your biggest inspiration when it comes to writing: I tend to really look further into the judgements and see how I can find ways to improve a character, but that’s really not my biggest inspiration LOL. One of my biggest inspirations is history and it’s admirable --and also incredibly terrible --- figures throughout history. It’s literally almost like a pool of inspiration waiting to be weaved into stories.

Inspiration wise: A few people I looked at while researching inspiration for LeBlanc were: Elizabeth I, Maleficent, Cleopatra, Morticia Addams, and Anne Boleyn. Of course not all of them were real what fun would that be?

Favorite types of threads: I adore those kinds of threads that really bring you wanting more each time you respond and get a response back-- those kind of ‘ on the edge of your seat’ plots with people that just never seems to stop with it’s suspense and adrenaline no matter how long it might take the other to respond. Believe it or not I’m also an avid fan of fluff and angst mixed together.

Biggest struggle in regards to your current muse: I admit, the major struggle I’ve come to find in my writing with LeBlanc is plotting with the people I want to plot to or making my blog completely open for plotting for everyone. LeBlanc simply isn’t the kind of individual who would open her parlor to anyone who decides to waltz in, she is a woman of action and caution with those she interacts with. Of course there’s always little ways to make threads work but it’s more than likely a plot that’s relatively similar each time: LeBlanc deceiving someone in order to gain something and manipulating them to then further obey her every whim or make them despise her with all of her existence, if not LeBlanc generally sassing them out of her vision. I really don’t want that kind of stuff to happen in plotting, which is why I’m more willing to take something off of an ask meme if the muse is someone that’s incredibly far fetched from having any sort of encounter with her.

Tagged by: no one, I stole it from @ignis-ad-iudicem *waves from afar*

Tagging: no one, steal it if you wish.

#(in a blink..ooc)#hiding in the shadows | ( mun.)#q.#// its long im s o r r y #// but i love these things #// and apparently stretching the word count to infinity.

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nessackerman · 7 years

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REQUEST! - MC with a tragic past x 707/Saeyoung

Hiiiiiiii there little beans!

So... okay, maybe it’s a little too long (?) But I wanted this request to be like a “mini one-shot” so I could explain the character as you wanted it to be. There’s no way I could write about an MC like that by writing an scenario... Am I explaining myself? Dammit, sorry ;;

And one more thing before you read this... so, I think this is the first time I write such a long post in english, like I said it’s not my main language although I do write and talk in english almost every day (I’m studying English and Spanish language and literature at university) but it’s not that easy to me yet... So just that, if you find mistakes or any typo please tell me nicely and be patient with me, I’m trying my best ಥ_ಥ

This was a difficult request tbh, but you know what? I LOVE CHALLENGES! So, here you have! I really hope you enjoy reading this and please tell me if you like it and request and ask and askdfnsdf no im not nERVOUS YOU aRE ;; omfgfuck

The first thing Saeyoung did when you joined the RFA was do a background check, he didn't found much and that really surprised him, everyone has something, either is good or bad, but you? You were clean.

He found some profiles on different social media platforms but that was it, you didn't interact that much with people, no actualized information about family or friends, just a few photos and the list of where you had studied and worked within these years. The only interesting thing he found about you was something about adoption, he found out you became orphan when you were ten and then they adopted you and you spent the rest of your days in Korea.

That made Saeyoung wonder... What kind of past might be hidding under the covers? You were always so shy and serious, at first he thought you were the poor version of Jumin, dammit, your politeness and your serious manners almost fooled him. But, for some reason, he started seeing something that the other members of the rfa didn't seem to notice, your serious attitude was just a façade to hide how damn broken you were inside. Maybe he knew something was wrong, maybe he knew you were wearing a mask because he was wearing his own mask to hide his own demons. Maybe that was why you could unterstand him better than anyone, and you were able to say what he needed to hear in the exact moment he needed to hear it.

He didn't know anything, he tried to search more than a couple of times something that could have led him to understand why you were like that, what had happened to you... he tried to pull the threads of the adoption issue but nothing came out, just names and dates, nothing relevant. It almost seemed like you were a ghost, a fantasy of his shattered mind to release some pain, to feel loved...

You always tried to avoid talking about your past and he did too, it was something mutual but, when everything went bat shit crazy and Saeran appeared and you finally discovered Saeyoung's past... You felt kind of guilty, guilty for not being able to tell him about yours too, every damn time you tried but couldn’t tell him felt like a knife stabbing your chest.

You felt that you owed him that much, the truth, the... the pieces to the puzzle you were, you wanted him to fully understand you, and for that to happen you needed to tell him the truth. Not telling him was betraying his confidence in you and you just couldn't afford losing him, not ever, not in a million years. He was the only thing you had, he made you feel loved for the first time in... well, too many years, and you couldn't risk that, just... you could never risk that much.

So one day, after three months of dating, you gathered the courage to tell him the truth. You cried, it was the first time in years you opened to someone, so everything you had been hidding inside a box in your heart suddenly opened and floded your entire being; every memory, every word, all the lonely nights suddenly came to your eyes and your lips. You cried, and sobbed and hiccuped and you explained him all about you, what you remembered and what you knew from your adoptive parents, everything.

You remember you had a poor family but you were happy and everyone was kind and loyal, you had such lovely, brave parents... But the fairy tail ended once the war started in your country, with such bad luck that your house was in the same district were the rebellious were hidding.

It was days since you had eaten, the war had stopped the whole city on an hiatus and without a job your parents couldn't gain money and without money there was no food... so they sneaked out to try to get something to eat for you and that was the last time you saw them, they got killed in the middle of a gun fight.

The only memory you have after that it's about you, wandering through the streets, crying and calling your parents until someone picked you up and the nightmare begun. You were alone, the people who picked you up used to beat you up and used you as a slave until war paused and someone from the gobernment found about you and picked you up to south Korea.

Your adoptive parents were good people, you needed time and therapy but you finally could start to love them and be kind and more open to them. They died in a car accident when you were twenty and you ended up alone once again, that was the moment you decided you wouldn't open to anyone again, you wouldn't love or care for anyone again, everyone that you loved ended up dead, that was the reason why it was so hard to get to open to Saeyoung, and you still were afraid to fully love him...

All the time while you were trying to explain yourself Saeyoung was hugging you, kissing your tears away, kissing your hair, your forehead, your hands, every scar you have... He tried to gave you strenght to continue and smiled tenderly every time you stopped to breath and wash your tears.

He was finally able to pick up the pieces from the puzzle but he couldn't believe how bad, how traumatic your past was, how broken you might be inside, he couldn't even imagine how fucking hard that could have been for you. He cried too that night, he couldn't sleep in days thinking about your history. He tried to be the best person for you since that moment, the most lovely and tender and understanding, always there when you might crash down from memories suddenly floding you head, always there to hug you to sleep after every nightmare. Always there.

He understands you're not a prankster like him, he still do prank you anyways, he loves teasing you and see you laugh, he adores you. Oh, and that time you bought that "MEME GUIDE FOR DUMMIES" He felt something warming up in his soul, that was so cute... He laughed a bit tho, the moment had been pretty hilarious. Nonetheless, he will do whatever it takes to make you happy, even if that means watch romantic movies and take long walks or go buy you some ice cream at 3AM at that Mc Donalds drive thru at the other side of the town.

That's one of those nights, you had a nightmare and he couldn't sleep either so... It was something like this:

You were sweeting and moving to much in bed, he tried to cuddle you but then you started screaming and crying and he had to wake you up.

-Hey! MC...MC! MC are you okay? Please wake up babe, you're scaring me, wake up my angel... -He tries to wake you up with sweet words and tender touches.

When you finally wake up you're dead scared and still crying and sobbing. He sits in the bed with his back to the header, you're lying on your side in a fetal position, in between his legs and with your head on his chest (I don't know if it's clear, if not I'll search and post a photo of this posture). He's the sweetest and the most understanding boyfriend you could ever ask for.

-Okay, it's okay little alien, I'm here, I'm not going anywhere, I'm here with you... -He sing-songs, like a lullaby, calming you down.

-They... they were... and you... -You try to speak but still the fear is more powerful than you.

-Shh babe, I'm here with you, listen to my heart, it will be alright alien -He says with a sweet voice, slowly running his fingers through your hair, giving you all the time you need to recover.

After a while you're relaxed and feeling almost at bliss, he's like a balm, his voice, his touches, his kind and lovely words... He's the best thing that has happened to you, the best thing ever.

-I love you, you don't know how much... don't ever leave me, please Saeyoung... -You say and then you re-position yourself to be able to kiss him.

And you do, slow and smooth, you try to express how you feel through the kiss but it's not long before you two start wanting more and run out of air, you move away from each other lips just to breath and clash again in a quite suffocated kiss, he cups your cheeks in his hands and you put yours in his shoulders so you don't lose balance and you sink your nails on his flesh, his response is almost immediate, he moans and brokes the kiss to grasp for air.

-MC... You... I... I love you -He says and looks at you with tender eyes.

Sometimes you love teasing him, you're not a cheerful person, you're quite serious most of the time to be honest, but tonight you feel like teasing him a little now that you're feeling better -maybe it's your way of avoiding your thoughts tonight, who cares, if it works for you then it's okay- so you stand up from bed and look at Saeyoung, who's looking back at you with a mix of lust and confusion.

-I want ice cream, let's go to Mc Donalds's drive thru! -You say all of a sudden, and you obviously think it's not going to work, you think he's going to grab you by the waist to drag you back to him and kiss you again... but, oh, dear... you're quite surprised when he stands up too.

-Let's go then, nothing I wouldn't do for my little alien! -And he smiles and starts dressing, leaving you standing there, half naked and confused af.

So that's how you end up in a Mc Donalds's drive thru at 3 AM to buy a fucking McFlurry. That's how it is, one moment you're crying in the middle of a nightmare, then you're kissing him and an hour later you're buying ice cream. You're happy just like that, it may seem crazy... but you love that, you're in love with him, with his madness, with every inch of him, you're in love with the life you're living, even if it's hard as hell sometimes.

And one day you're going to marry him in the space station, that's for sure.

That’s it, have a nice day little beans (っ◔◡◔)っ ❤

#mysme #mystic messenger #mystic messenger 707 #msyme 707 #saeyoung choi #mystic messenger mc #oneshot #headcanons #scenario #imagine #I'm so nervous #please like it #please send love

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tilly-and-her-books · 7 years

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I cannot express my joy when I discovered that this book was real...and that it was also free to purchase as an e-copy through amazon (it's like under 100 pages so it's a quick read). However, that joy was short lived when I actually began to read this book. Maybe it's because of my lifestyle of memes, puns and general shit-post humour but I was expecting a book with copious amounts of chicken puns, knights wearing KFC buckets as helmets and well...a lot more steamy romance between our darling Harland Sanders and Madeline. I feel as a long time Colonel Sanders and KFC fan I have a duty to make this story cringe worthy and yet oddly satisfying to those readers who are just like me. So grab a delicious, crispy chicken wing, ignore my spelling mistakes, general crappy grammar and enjoy. And to cover my own ass, all these characters belong to KFC and I mean no offence to anyone. Also I apologies because this got way out of hand and there's a lot of dirty insinuations involved. Take a bible with you. Also I didn't read this over because I'm terrified of having these thoughts in my head again. (GOODREADS REVIEW LINK:https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1996014517?type=review#rating_117050525)

Of all the things that Lady Madeline Parker disliked about her life, the one that constantly stuck out in her brain was her hatred of beef. There was something inherently pointless about it's boring, bland flavour and particularly chewy meat. Even now as she sat at the table, sawing at a rather pitiful piece of it she couldn't help but sigh. Around her at the table, her family watched with a secret dancing between them. Even Madeline's younger sister, Veronica who was obviously talented at every thing pursed her lips as though to stop herself from speaking. Veronica looked beautiful, even after she'd been outside doing yoga for the last two hours. Maybe it had something to do with her new gluten free diet she bragged about constantly. Madeline looked at her beef and for just a moment and considered this strange, gluten free idea but she quickly returned to her senses. What a ridiculous idea, she thought. Winston, Madeline's favourite sibling cleared his throat and gave a pointed glare at Mama. Finally, Mama spoke, just as Madeline managed to hack my way through a string of fat. "I have some wonderful news," She declared. "It's about you, Madeline." Madeline dropped her knife and fork onto the table and bared her teeth. She was fed up with beef. She was tired of feeling so underwhelmed and unsatisfied after every meal that involved in. How could someone live a in a world like this? It wasn't even porterhouse but a measly, flank steak. "This beef is terrible Papa, how could you allow us to suffer by eating it?" Mama and Papa looked at each other and shared a silent conversation before Mama looked at Madeline again. "Well, my dear if the meal is so unpleasant you will be glad to hear the news. Duke Reginald has asked for your hand in marriage and we have allowed it." Madeline couldn't contain her gasp of horror. Duke Reginald was a well known man in the county. He was rich, handsome and from certain rumours it was well known he was talented at clapping with only one hand. Everything Madeline would look for in a man except that Duke Reginald had a deal breaker and it was one that she could not look past. "Mama!" She screamed. "He's...He's a...He's a vegan!" Despite Mama's face turning red and angry it was Veronica who spoke first, her voice enraged. "How can you be so selfish, Madeline! That man is the only one in the county who would ask for your spoilt hand in marriage and all you care about is his lack of meat! If you weren't so selfish you would accept this marriage and spend your days as a duchess." Madeline opened her mouth to retort just how important meat was to her when her Papa, who doesn't have any other role in this story besides being the enforcer, spoke. "Madeline...You don't have the option to accept this marriage. We have already done that for you. You will be married to Duke Reginald by the end of the month and you will not have anything else to say about it tonight, understand?" Madeline looked down at her steak. Suddenly, it didn't seem so bad. She stood there as Mama, Papa and Veronica all left the room and this story. They weren't important anyway. Rumour has it, they don't even like gravy. However, Winston loved gravy almost as much as he loved his sister...who are we kidding, he loves it more than Madeline. She's a KFC. Kinda Foolish Chick. No one loves a Kinda Foolish Chick. He pushed away the thoughts of gravy and took his sisters, cold hand. "Maddie, you don't have to do this, you know? You could run away from this wedding." She looked at him wide eyed. "Winston, where would I go? I've never left the safety of our home. All I know is beef, scrabble and how to tie a string bow tie." "Just get on your horse and ride. Go towards the coast. Maybe try fish?" Madeline curled her nose at the thought of fish. Sure, the beef here was deplorable but what other meat could she eat? Winston squeezed her hand before he stood up and turned to walk out of the room. Before he left, he looked over his shoulder dramatically. "Let me ask you this...could fish be worse than being a vegan?" Madeline listened to her brothers footsteps as he walked away. No...she decided. There was nothing worse than being a vegan. Unless you were a vegan with a gluten free diet too but no one would be that silly. And so that night, Madeline didn't pack a bag because she's a spoilt brat and expected a maid to do it for her, climbed aboard her horse and rode towards the coast. Little did she know what would be waiting for...or who. ***** The ride towards the coast had started well for Madeline. Her horse Persephone galloped ahead, the wind whipping through her mane. However, things took a turn for the worst when Madeline realised...She didn't know how to ride a horse. Persephone headed straight for a very spooky looking forest that mostly likely hid a band of thieves that liked to prey on young women like Madeline. Spoilers? No, because it's happening right now! A thief jumped out from behind the tree grabbing a hold of the leather reins and pulling Persephone to a grinding halt. Madeline released a shrill scream that could be heard from miles away. However, it was cut short as a thief leapt up towards her, his arm snaking around her waist and yanking right from her steed. "Well what have we got here?" The thief sneered. Madeline wriggled out of his grasp and quickly faced her back to a large tree. She looked at the three thieves that stood before her. They were triplets. All of them had long, skinny legs. Their hair was bright red and styled in a type of deflated mohawk. And for some strange reason they had attached feathers to their old clothes. They looked like...weird ducks. "What do you want with me?" Madeline whimpered. One of the thieves laughed and looked at the brother to his left. "Damn, Daniel!" He exclaimed. "This girl is KFC." Thief Daniel nodded his head in agreement. "Ain't nobody got time for that. We should just take the horse and leave her in distress." The third brother didn't seem so sure as he took a step closer to Madeline. "What's your name?" he asked. Madeline swallowed the lump in her throat as she decided to lie. "It's...Felicia." He squinted his eyes at her before he released a deep, throaty laugh. "You're right boys, she is KFC! Let's get outta here." They turned their backs on Madeline, leading Persephone away with them. Madeline was in such a shock she didn't even move to stop them. Not even as Thief Daniel waved at her and said, "Bye Felicia!" before disappearing with her horse and her only way to get to the coast. It was only when Madeline heard a branch snapping in the distance did she finally move from the tree. "Who's there?" she screamed because alerting your presence in a forest filled with bad people wasn't a bad idea. In this case, it was a terrible disaster as a talking goat clambered out from behind the trees. It's horns were coated in blood and it's white goatee touched the ground. It's eyes were bright red as it focused it's attention on Madeline. The air around them grew tense as Madeline idly looked around for any form a weapon but she was in the middle of a forest and not armoury. So she curled her fists and looked the goat in the eye. It's first words, were terrifying. "I crave that mineral," It bleated and then it was running towards her, tucking it's chin down so his horns could be used to their full extent. Madeline didn't have time to scream before there was a huge thud and a great, white shape took up in front of her. It took her but a few seconds to realise that this shape was in fact a man. He wore a stark, white suit. It's sleeves cut off at the shoulders. He wore a helmet that was white and red. Madeline couldn't see his face but as he spoke, her knees went weak. "It makes you a chicken to attack a young lady in distress. I ought to deep fry you, goat." The goat bleated in response before Madeline heard his little hooves, trotting off back into the trees. He didn't put up much of a fight but judging from the bulging muscles on the knights arms, she wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of him either...maybe the right side though. Or underneath. He turned around slowly, Madeline's eyes assessing every inch of the man. From his white leather shoes, to the cardboard bucket on his head, the eye holes cut out unevenly. She couldn't see his face but her eyes settled on the only non-white thing he wore...a string bow tie. It was then, Madeline knew she was in love. "You...saved me." She breathed, casually sticking out her chest. "Whatever could I do to repay you?" The knight cleared his throat as he took a tentative step towards her. "You can repay me by giving me your name." "It's Madeline. And what's yours?" His hand reached up and ever so slowly pulled of the helmet, shaking his head. His thick, white locks bounced around until they finally settled in place, shaping his magnificent face. He was the most handsome man she'd ever laid eyes upon. "Sanders," He said with a smile. "Harland Sanders. How can I help you, Madeline?" Madeline asked Harland if he could take her to the coast, despite the fact that the man had no horse, no need to go there or any favour owed to her but because this is a love story, he said yes. Along the way she told Harland her story and her secrets about how her parents had wanted her to marry rich but she had run away. She spoke about how she would never want to be in that situation again and all she wanted to do was have a normal life, like any other normal person. And then she asked Harland about himself. "What's your secret?" She smiled. "Who told you about the eleven secret herbs and spices?!" He gasped. "Excuse me?" Madeline said bewildered. Harland looked shocked for a second before he shrugged it off with a laugh. "I mean, I don't have any secrets that I'm going to reveal upon meeting you...I mean, I'm just a simple man. A sailor. A romantic. A string bow tie enthusiast." Madeline didn't even know that she'd wanted all of those things until now. It was like she was living in a hazy world until she'd met Harland. They continued on their journey until they reached a coastal town and they found a hotel to stay out. I can't be very descriptive because I've just realised there's a word count and it's slowly creeping up on me. You guys can just fill in the blanks with your imagination but keep it clean...for now. ***** Madeline sat before the big open fire, a cup of beer in her hands as she listened to Harland talk about life as a sailor. From what she could see on his face there was sadness there. Like something had happened to him and driven him to a life on the seas. What life did you have before Harland? Madeline thought to herself. What life would you want with me? She was surprised by her second thought. She was also a little scared to have fallen in love with this stranger so quickly. As she watched him though, with that glint in his eye she knew that she needed to be with him. So she decided to wing it and interrupted him before he'd finished speaking. "Harland...I think we should get a dinner for two...or a giant feast. I want to share something with you..." She reached over and ever so carefully, took his hands in hers. "I want to share a lot of things with you." (PLZ remember word count, I can't spend a lot of time focusing on them falling in love and not on the actual spiciness) Harland looked torn for a second before he allowed a smile to cover his face. "Oh Madeline, I'm so glad you feel it too. But I need to tell you something first..." Madeline felt her heart sink a little as she took in the desperation in his voice. "What is it?" Harland stood up from his seat. "Well, I can show you. If you'll come with me?" Madeline didn't hesitate as she sculled the rest of her beer. Her Mama didn't raise no quitter. She stood up and allowed him to guide her up the stairs towards the bedrooms. It was only when Harland reached his own room that Madeline started to fret. She was a woman of noble birth and it was already scandalous that she'd run away from home before her own wedding, let alone that she was now entering another mans room! But as he opened the door she was greeted by an irresistible smell...Oh my. Madeline closed her eyes as she breathed deeply through her nose. Harland let go of her hand but Madeline just wanted to embrace this smell for a few seconds longer. When she finally mustered the strength to open her eyes she gasped. Harland had his back to her but he'd taken off his white pants as he had begun to take of his shirt. "What are you doing?" She screamed. Harland looked over his shoulder and smiled at her knowingly. His hands were playing with something near his waist. Strangely, Madeline only felt a warmth spread through her body at that and it caused her to step further into the room, closing the door behind her. This only caused him to smile more before he spoke. "I do have a secret I need to share with you, Madeline. Especially since you're my one true love. I...like to cook. And I want to cook you something now. Something I'm famous for." He spun around, his eyes looking from his hips, to her. Madeline, processed his words but she was too busy looking at down at his cock. The poor thing was being choked by Harland's hands. "What are you doing to that poor rooster?" Harland, laughed before he lifted it higher in the air as it squawked. "Madeline, this isn't a rooster. It's a hen and it's my specialty. Don't be a chicken, come closer and I'll show you." She was terrified but as she looked at Harland she could see the passion on his face. He loved...whatever he was about to do. In this case, murder to that poor hen but we're going to overlook that because it's all for the greater good. "Sit down," He told her. "I'll tell you my story as I prepare for you the greatest meal you'll ever taste." And so the night wore on. Madeline sat at the table between eleven small dishes filled with herbs and spices. She watched Harland, with splatters of blood dotting his skin, feathers littering the floor around him as he told her about his past life. His parents owned a chicken business across the sea and he was to be the heir of the business...but he had been too afraid. He was scared he wasn't good enough especially because he planned on franchising the business to become even more famous and wealthier. He broke a chair into pieces and started a fire right in the middle of the room as he crumbed the chicken with spices and flour and all that other stuff you use to make delicious pieces of heaven. As the food began to cook, the smell that had been in the room intensified and Madeline found herself becoming more and more relaxed but also eager to taste Harland. Uhm, Harland's food. Finally, he set a box down in front of her. Inside of it was 10 pieces of freshly prepared Original Recipe chicken, 2 large chips, large coleslaw, large potato & gravy, and a 1.25L drink™. Madeline looked from the food up to her Harland. As he told her the last part of the story. That his parents had died a really hazardous death when the chickens fought back and smothered them before they even really had a chance. And so now it was his. The business, the home, the life he had before. He was now a rich man and he was to take back the family name. He was Colonel Sanders and he was still the love of her life. Madeline pretended to forget that she'd said earlier she wanted a normal life because let's be real, who would pass up a life of wealth and chicken? She couldn't wait to rub this in Veronica's face. Madeline, reached over and took Colonel Sanders hand. "I still love you," she declared and then looked at the food. "There's so much here, I don't think I can eat it all on my own." Colonel Sanders smiled cheekily. "This, my love, is the Family Box." "The Family Box!" She exclaimed. "But there's only two of us..." He smirked and looked behind him at the bed. "Baby, After we've eaten that chicken, i'm going to give you some stuffing and we're going to create a new beginning for us." Madeline had never eaten food so fast, she barely had time to register the crispy skin and slightly dry chicken, the under-salted chips and the disappointing coleslaw that no one really likes. But the gravy, oh god the gravy was perfect as always. She drank her 1.25L beverage but not all of it. She'd leave a little bit in it so it felt like a waste to throw it away and then just let it go flat over the next few days before finally throwing it away. And only when they'd eaten the last piece of chicken did Colonel Sanders swoop down, picking Madeline up and sweeping her off the feet (just like in the COVER YO) and carried her to the bed. He planted a kiss on her lips and they both savoured the delicious taste of chicken. "You're KFC." She said seductively. "What does that mean?" He growled, removing her clothes. She blushed, a little embarrassed. "You're...Kinda Fucking Cool." Colonel Sanders laughed. His hand now trailing down to the apex of her thighs. Madeline let out a moan of passion. Colonel Sanders thought about those words. "I like that...KFC...Kicking Fat Children...Klassy Fried Chicken...Kentucky Fried Chicken!" And just like that, he had found his restaurant name! "Now, you just need a slogan." Madeline purred. Colonel Sanders waited until Madeline had screamed his name euphorically and then lifted his hand between them, looking at his fingers. "I think I just found that too..." He said, looking into the camera like he's on The Office. "Finger. Licking. Good."

#mine #tender wings of desire

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