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dreamwritersworld · 1 year

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I could fall in love! Part 2. (? 🤫 x reader)

As promised, there will be a love interest revealed! I hope you guys enjoy this part just as much as the last one! 💕

Since Y/n was who she was, Tonowari made sure she was never out of sight, and if she was…Ronal was with her. Both leaders agreed that they were going to make the girl strong…so they applied pressure on her to know, learn and be more...sometimes too much pressure. They feel they worked very hard to get Y/n where she is today, and they won’t let anyone ruin that. The only nights Y/n was allowed to be by herself was during festival carnaval…

Todays the day! I get my chores done with mother and head out to freshen up and put my outfit for the festival night. It's a beautiful top that sparkles blue with seashell pearls, even made a bottom piece to match my top! "Everybody! Our brothers and sister have returned!" It's time..!

I gather everyone into our position and told them to wait for Tsireya, since she was introducing the sully family to the Tulkans. Two minutes past and she was back to me! "Are you ready sister?" I laugh and share a smile "always! We can begin now!"

Whistling begun causing everyone to smile looking at the shore!

We begin coming out, shaking our hips to the music, with excitement being exchanged!

(Begin playing ‘Real in Rio’)

"All the birds of the feather, Do what they love most of all. We are the best at rhythm and laughter... That's why we love carnaval!"

I spin Tsireya around and spot my spirt sister heading closer to us, to bring us closer to the crowd. I grab Tsireya's hand and pull her on with me.

"Dance to the music, passion and love. Show us the best you can do!”

We dance around looking around the crowd for the Sully's as we finish singing our last lyric. I pulled up a boy and Tuk from the water. While Tsireya pulls up a girl and another boy.

"Dance with me!" I tell them. Tuk dances off with the music showing the people her dance moves, she was loose unlike…..her brother.

Y/n feels the nervousness in the boy, thinking it's because he doesn't know how to dance. However that wasn't the full case...

"Everyone here is on fire! Get up and join in the fun!"

"It's ok, don't think about it! Just follow me!" She goes back to singing with the crowd, pulling the boy in and out as she dances to the beat

"Dance with a stranger, romance and danger! Magic could happen for real in Rio"

Neteyam laughs as he finally loosens up and dances with the girl who's ocean eyes held him captive. Y/n pulls him in closer, gaining confidence to make him blush once more.. “You're dancing so good! The beat may change soon but it's ok, I got you!" She sends a comforting smile as she pulls his arms on her waist going to dance her hips to the faster beat that had just dropped. Ao'nung and Rotxo join in, Y/n then pulls everyone side by side smiling to the crowd singing with Tuk on her arm.

“All the birds of a feather. Do what they love most of all Moon and the stars, sun and guitars. That's why we love carnaval!"

I leave the group once more, giggling as I create a wave to hold me and Tuk In the air.

We come down and I smile walking towards the boy I was dancing with, going to hold his hand so I can show him specifically to the crowd.

“Loving our life in the jungle! Everything's wild and free!”

All Neteyam could think about was how beautiful Y/n was, how gentle she was with Tuk, how sweet her voice was…now he knows why they speak so highly of her.

“Are you ready Tuk?” Y/n let’s go of Neteyam’s hands once more to hold Tuk higher.

“Magic can happen for real in Rio! All by itself, you can't see it coming! You can't find it anywhere else!”

Y/n giggles at how sweet the child sounded and pulling everyone to dance to her brother and his best friend as they go back and forth spitting lyrics.

“Beauty and love, what more could you want? Everything can be for real in Rio. Here's something else. You just feel it happening. You won't find it anywhere else!”

Y/n spins Tuk around, smiling at the crowd and holding the boy’s hand before telling him “I will find you again soon! I promise!” They all get off her spirt sister before the trio call three ilu’s to come towards Ao’nung, Roxto and her.

Everyone knew about the first song…but were they ready for a freestyle..?

“Create a beat for us!” The crowd listens

Ao’nung starts it with

(Begin playing ‘Hot Wings (I wanna party)’)

“Party in Ipanema, baby! I want to party!”

I smile dancing with my upper body and moving around with my ilu.

“So let me fly just like a rocket, then (okay)

Fly so high where I need to come down for oxygen

Cause once we start it, baby, ain't no ain't no stoppin' then”

The crowd goes crazy once the two create more noise!

“ I want to party (party)

And live my life (live my life)

I want to party (party)

And fly

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey”

They turn calling for me to sing next…

“Laya Laya

Laya Laya

Hey

Laya Laya

Laya Laya”

I begin making water the water glow around the people bodies, watching the children smile and I move the water around my body and then around the crowd! Laughter erupted along with gasps.

Y/n was having fun interacting with the crowd, as for Neteyam…he was having fun just enjoying her presence. Something pulled Neteyam into Y/n, she was beautiful to him, indescribably even! She danced like no one was watching, she knew how to move her body to the music as if she heard it her entire life. How could he possibly get any real chance to talk to her, she wasn’t going to come up to him like she said. He was just glad he got to dance with the girl…he lost track of where she was now, since she was consumed in a crowd as everyone begins dancing and talking to their Tulkuns.

That’s until she made more time to greet the pretty boy she danced with, suddenly putting her conversations to a stop and headed toward the boy.

“Hello! I am Y/n! What’s your name?”

Neteyam blushes simply to the sounds of her voice quickly before he was able to regain confidence and talk to her again.

“M-My name is Neteyam”

Y/n leads the conversation with the nervous boy and offers to show him more of the island and her spirit sister.

The two talked for the rest of the night until it was time to say goodbye. They were walking towards Y/n’s family’s Mauri…

“Good night Neteyam! I hope to see you tomorrow for day two!” Neteyam laughs at this and says good night and that he hopes to see her as well.

As Y/n enters her Mauri all she could think about was how Neteyam made her feel so calm, and gave her a sense of relief. Neteyam made her feel like she was the only person there, he showed that he enjoyed talking to her and genuinely listening to her. She had fallen asleep dreaming of Neteyam…

I woke up earlier than usual, to finish my chores. Once I’m done I slowly walk away from my mother rushing to the Sully’s Mauri before anyone catches me and pops a request.

I brought some sweet fruits I picked as a gift towards them. They all turn towards me and suddenly my confidence is lost…that was until Tuk ran into hug me. ”Hello I am Y/n! Daughter of Tonowari and Ronal! It’s nice to meet you! I brought fruits as a welcoming gift to you and your family! I am so sorry I never got to approach all of you at once before Carnaval!” Jake takes the bag from me while Neytiri introduces herself. Soon I meet the rest of the siblings and we introduce ourselves but I give Neteyam a side hug joking around since we already knew each other. “Neteyam, if you’d like, well I mean if you have time right now can we can talk more before carnaval?” I need to take in these moments as much as I can before I’m put back on schedules for work. “I-I- of course I would l-love too!”

Y/n doesn’t see it but Lo’ak is completely teasing Neteyam from behind her, that is until Kiri elbows him in the stomach to shut up before Y/n notices.

“Ok! I can show you this cave I like to visit-“ Tuk rushes in holding onto my leg with putting on her baby doll eyes before saying “can I go? Can I go please?” I melt at her sweet face, ready to say yes before looking up at her parents “ye- sorry i mean yes only if that’s ok with your parents!” That is until Jake had to pry her off of me and told her it’s best to just let Neteyam make friends just like she was allowed to.

I pass a smile to Tuk before grabbing Neteyam’s hand toward the pretty cave, I came to when I wanted to be alone.

I called two ilu’s for the both of us before letting go of his hand. He looks a little..? Confused? Scared maybe? “C’mon don’t be scared! It’s not far trust me” while saying this I go towards him to bump him to ride the ilu. He laughs saying “I’m definitely not scared!” It was true…he was more nervous at the fact that he was holding y/n’s hand, that he was the one finding comfort in her touch…

They arrive in the cave and once again Y/n goes to grab Neteyam’s hand, giggling to let off her nervousness. However she didn’t know Neteyam was blushing the same way she was, silently laughing to himself. “This is where I come for some quietness, it’s beautiful isn’t it?” She turns toward him with a smile on her face “definitely beautiful” she giggles at his stunned face and begins to lead the conversation once again…

I begin pulling out fruit from my bag to hand over to neteyam. “It’s like a sweet sugary dessert! It’s my favorite! Try it” he takes it from my hand and has a bite “Plah- ooo too sugary! You eat this?” I laugh at his reaction to the fruit. “Yes! It’s so good! You, neteyam are just not used to the sweet life!” To this he laughs and says “Maybe, I’ll just learn more about the sweet life from y-you!” I giggle at him while I turn my head to hide any blushing that was coming up.

“If you don’t mind me asking…why didn’t we get to see you earlier? Or how come you don’t train us like your siblings?” I give a sad smile “I tried! I really did try, I just…because I was taken away when I was younger for my powers. My dad he just, he keeps me close at all times so that means I’m doing work all the time. He just now started letting me go to these other clans to create small trades, but just because they are small trades doesn’t mean the trips aren’t draining or don’t take a lot of time. Carnaval is like a dream for me, I finally have some time for myself.” He passes a sympathetic look telling me stories about how hard his father is on him as well, we continued going back and forth enjoying our time together…

“I think we should head out! I still have to get ready for the dance this evening!” I grab his hand bringing him towards our ilu’s. I’ve never been one to be so touchy but…Neteyam’s touch makes me feel…safe? We begin swimming back with our ilu’s, and he insists on walking me back to my Mauri…this makes me let go of his hand gently , I’m scared my people will see or worse, my father. Neteyam is the only thing I have to myself right now and I’d like to keep it that way. We part ways happily agreeing to meet again.

I need to wear my most prettiest top, so I went ahead with the brand new sequence top I made awhile back. Then I hear the people outside “the party must begin! Our brothers and sisters are back!”

I run out ready to dance again. While we were waiting the regular 10 minutes I couldn’t help but smile thinking about Neteyam and I hanging out earlier. That was great of course until Tsireya pulled me out my thoughts. “Ooo I know that face! You’re thinking about something…or perhaps…someone…(she comes closer to whisper) named…neteyam” I immediately turn my head over giving a surprised look “Sister! Shhh do not say it out loud and no I am not!” She gives me her questionable look as if she doesn’t believe me “It’s ok to have a crush but you know our parents would freak out! It’s you, Y/n.” I look to her giving a frustrated look “There’s nothing to freak out about.” She gives a straight face “He’s not within the clan. You know you are considered the future Y/n! I’m not saying you can’t or you shouldn’t allow yourself to have some fun, I’m just saying to please be careful sister. In dads or moms eyes…for you, and for you only, the relationship would be wrong.” I give her a questionable look in return while crossing my arms “Lo’ak isn’t apart of our clan. Don’t you like him?” She laughs and says “Yea but as of right now Lo’ak and I are just friends.” I give her a knowing look “Ok. So is Neteyam.” I smile pulling her to come with me since we were about to start heading out, Onto our ilu’s

(Begin playing ‘beautiful creatures’)

“Let's come together, singing love and harmonia. We are so different, but we're the same inside our hearts. Beautiful colors, just as far as the eyes can see ya. Open your wings, fly when you hear the call”

We circled around and danced with our ilu’s along the crowd as they cheered and as Tulkuns blew water to show off their excitement!

“Come this way celebrate. Laugh and dance all the way. Follow me sing along. Lah lah bah bah boom boom”

The boys and girls separate preparing to dance and switch sides once again. You can hear the crowd singing and splashing as they moved to the beats, their smiles were so beautiful.

“Já disse que Jade chegou. Já disse que já disse que Jade chegou. Já disse que Jade chegou. Já disse que já disse que Jade chegou”

While they continued I got off my ilu to follow my spirit sister while we took a step in front of the crowd creating a safe distance. I create a wave in a form of a heart and she flips herself over in the air! I let out a “wooooooo!!” Watching her splash around happily, picking me up with her fin on the way.

“Let's celebrate, for we are beautiful creatures. Come spread your wings, dance and sing songs about freedom. Like lah lah lah hoo hoo. One for the jungle família. Like bah bah bah boom boom”

The crowd went even crazier after watching the tricks our people did during the dance. The crowd was wearing the most happiest faces watching the performances. Once we were done singing, I spoke with my spirit sister.

(Im going to highlight the speaking parts here to make it easier! Bold is Y/n. Not bold is our spirit sister!)

I signed back and forth with her for a couple of minutes and then I decided to tell her about Neteyam ‘do you remember the boy I showed you? We’ve only been friends for two days now but if feels like we have known each other our entire lives! He has something about him that just pulls me to him…he has stolen my heart. I don’t know what to do’ she rolls her eyes to this and speaks out once again ‘go for it! What are you waiting for kid?’ I laugh at her ‘It’s not easy! I have to think about the clan, my father, my siblings.’ She gives me dull eyes showing her frustration towards what she says is my “annoying habits” ‘there you go again Y/n always thinking about others before yourself. There comes a point and time where you have to take control of your own life. It’s just you! No more excuses. Take care of yourself Y/n allow yourself to fall in love. Enjoy it.’ I smile at her advice feeling relief before signing back to her ‘Thank you truly! You always know what to say!’ She rolls her eyes again ‘What are you still doing here kid! If I know what to say so well, go and listen to what I just told you!’ I giggle and agree, parting ways with her.

I spot neteyam holding Tuk, just swimming around and watching the people around them. “Neteyam! Tuk! Did you guys like the performance today?” Neteyam turns around with Tuk giving the most brightest smile “we loved it-“ quickly cut off with Tuk jumping out of his arms to come to mine. Neteyam shakes his head to this “Tuk you can’t just jump into Y/n’s arms. You can hurt her!” I shake my head back, holding Tuk closer and saying “Tuk can never hurt me, she’s too sweet!” She moves her head from my neck to neteyam sticking out her tongue mocking him. We all share a laugh.

“If you guys don’t mind can we settle on shore to talk more?” Neteyam agrees quickly “I’d love to! I-I- mean We’d love to!” He gives nervous laugh as I giggle at how quick he was to say yes “…right tuk?” Tuk turns back to her brother noticing how he dragged her in for help “Yes Neteyam is right! We would love spending every moment with you Y/n! You and your sister are my favorite! Neteyam would say you’re his favorite!” This does not go unnoticed by both of us but for Neteyam’s sake I decided to brush it off and turn away to hide any blushing I was having, hoping Tuk wouldn’t expose me either. We walk closer to the shore and settle down as I sit next to Neteyam watching Tuk play, then she said “I’m going with mom and dad ok Neteyam? Bye Y/n!” I say my goodbye and continue looking about at the view, trying to find words to express my thoughts.

I want to spend more time with Neteyam, but my parents would be an issue and so will the people watching. It’s not like I’m ashamed of Neteyam, of course not, I just can’t describe it…what if Tsireya was right, my parents will freak out. Until then…which won’t because I won’t allow any ‘freaking out’ to happen…I’ll just live in the moment.

“So…I really enjoy spending time with you Neteyam. Since carnaval will be coming to an end that means I won’t exactly have as free of a schedule, but I will make time just for you- you guys! I want to know your family more and your culture. I hope one day to visit the forest! Hopefully once I talk things out with my dad, he’ll allow me to join you guys when my siblings teach you the ways of the water.” I watch nervously waiting for his reaction but he’s only kept a really bright smile the entire time I was speaking. “I enjoy spending time with you too Y/n! I-I mean if you’d like we can make make m-more time after practice to talk between us? Maybe? Only I-if you-“ i cut him off and laugh at his nervousness “I’d love to Neteyam!” We both smile and look at the view before us.

Unaware that in the background both their siblings could see them!

*Away from the couple*

“I can’t watch this anymore!” Said Lo’ak getting impatient with his sibling. Kiri sends a gentle hit to the side of his head “Well be patient! Have a little more faith in our brother.” Ao’nung watches the two siblings going back and forth. “As much as I don’t like this idea you guys are trying to place, it’s pretty sad to see but we sh-“ he was immediately cut off “Help! Exactly we should help!” Tsireya, Kiri, Roxto and Ao’nung all look at Lo’ak as if he was crazy. “I got this don’t worry!” Lo’ak sends a signature signal to Neteyam, and he watches his brother turn back to the signal…silently thanking Eywa Y/n did not turn too. Lo’ak then motions his hands together telling Neteyam to make a move. This is all happening while the other four turn their heads acting as if they don’t know what’s happening.

Neteyam mouths a ‘Don’t worry! I got it!’ Before turning back to Y/n, slowly scooting closer. Lo’ak turn back around to let the group know Neteyam was going to listen to what he said. “Look guys! There he goes! That’s my bro!”*

I feel Neteyam move closer, ignoring it until I felt his arm beginning to stretch over me. Then I decided to turn to look at him. He gives me a nervous look as I smile trying to hold in my laugh. “Oh! I uh- I saw the trick you did with your Tulkan! I didn’t even think that was possible, a-and yet you did it!” The more he talked the more he nervously buried his hand in sand “Oh it was nothing! I wanted t- Wow” I was brought to a stop because when he went to bring his hand up, the sand that was previously piled on top of his hand…hit both of us. I give a surprised face in return. Struggling to find a way to calm the situation, let him know it was ok!

*Away from the couple*

All of the them give a disappointed look, as Lo’ak tries to figure out another way. Roxto turns to Lo’ak with amusement in his face “Yup! That’s your boy alright!” Lo’ak turns back around to the group “Ok…so he needs a little help..? Cmon let’s give him some! You know…set the mood!” Kiri and Tsireya watch the boys in amusement giving each other the ‘they have zero clue what a girl likes’ look. Roxto jumps up hearing this “alright im on it! I know how to set ‘the mood’” he pulls the group away from the couples view so they won’t suspect anything from the singing. “Ella es calliaita! Pero pa’l se-“ Ao’nung quickly shushes Roxto “No! You will not ruin the moment with them hearing that in the background!” Tsireya finally decides to put this to a stop.

“You guys have known Y/n your whole life how could you possibly not know her favorite love song?” The two boys look at Tsireya confused Roxto tries to break the confusion by saying “What do you mean? Y/n loves all songs! Music is literally all she listens to, she doesn’t have a favorite!” Tsireya rolls her eyes before saying “Fly love! That’s her favorite, you guys used to sing it all the time with her, it’ll set the mood!” Ao’nung turns back before whistling, as Roxto goes to grab something to Make instrumental music.

(Play ‘Fly love’ now!)

“Now that’s more like it! Lo’ak signals out to Neteyam again ‘Just tell her she has beautiful eyes!’ Neteyam’s smiles back before turning to Y/n.

“Wasn't really thinking, Wasn't looking, Wasn't searching for an answer, In the moonlight…When I saw your face”

“I have beautiful eyes!” Y/n gives a confused look “Uh…yea! They’re nice!” She shyly smiles and looks back to the view enjoying the song that was playing, her favorite song. Y/n was wondering if she should ask Neteyam to dance with her. Lo’ak signals again, ‘No! Her eyes! Her eyes! Not your eyes!’ Neteyam turns back quickly “Your eyes! Your eyes are great! Not mine! I-I mean mine are ok! But yours are captivating!” Y/n blushes immediately, gaining the confidence to pull him and to dance! Lo’ak turns to the group happily, “I think we got it! Keep singing guys!”*

I smile to Neteyam, not caring about me blushing anymore. “Thank you Neteyam! I love your eyes too, I can get lost in them! Can we dance please? This is my favorite song!” I grab his hand gently since he agreed and we hold each other tight, enjoying the peace as we dance away.

“Don't know how it happened, Don't know why but you don't really…Need a reason. When the stars shine, Just to fall in love.

Neteyam twirls me out and back in so I place my head on his chest, as we sway going back and forth.

“Made to love each other, Made to be together, For a life time In the sunshine, Flying in the sky”

I pull head away, searching for his eyes to look at me. “You’re perfect Neteyam.” He smiled, too shy to respond and I’m ok with his silent response. I spoke only a little, but in my mind I said so much. Neteyam was perfect, he was perfect for me, for his family, for the clan. He was perfect enough to draw me in, making me want more of him every single time. I can say, for the first time…I could in love.

“I know I'm feeling so much more than ever before. And so I'm giving more to you than I thought I could do! Oh...Now I know love is real. So when sky high as the angels try, Letting you and I, Fly love...”

💙!

I hope you guys like this series! I’m so sorry it took awhile to post I wanted to have this part perfect since it’s be the build up for their love! 🤭 did you see that ‘bad bunny’ reference? 😭 Roxto was about to spit some fire right there!

Tag list: @noodlesfics @eywas-heir @itshype

@zatarias-pandora @yeosxxx @arminsgfloll @lv9su

@useryourbut @nikotokitaswife @eatassskatefast12

@simp-erformarvelwomen @luciddasher @dakotali

@snowywhiterose @manohari @httpjiikook @destinylb @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @neteyamforlife @inutheangel @elegantkidfansoul

#jake sully x reader #neteyam x reader #loak x reader #neteyam sully #neytiri sully #angst #avatar loak #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam imagine #Spotify

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gothicprep · 2 months

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looking back on everything that’s happened wrt james somerton, part of me has got to wonder what hbomb’s and his viewers’ *real* problem with him was. when you see stories like this, and maybe I’m just cynical having been on the internet for too long, most people who get cancelled like this are kind of weird in some way. or people just don’t like them.

idk if you’ve ever watched “the traitors” before, but often the people who get voted out early don’t make eye contact or are slightly a bit weird. and people make up all sorts of conspiracy theories about why they can’t trust them, and blah blah blah. but it’s actually just a kind of “ick” fundamentally. these stories can be that, or they can be a kind of professional jealousy, or they can be “who’s the most marginalized in the marginalized pile”, or they can be smurfette syndrome (“there’s only room for there to be one gay disney youtuber, and by god, it’s gonna be me”). and beyond all that, it’s fun to be part of a mob.

maybe this is just growing pains on my end realizing that I used to have that tendency and over-indexing in the other direction. I’m weirdly sympathetic to villains. but john ronson points this out in his book, that the internet never doles out the correct amount of punishment. all things considered, plagiarism is a misdemeanor. ripping off articles and YouTube videos is a sin, but it’s a venial sin. he may have harmed people, but he didn’t hurt people if that makes any sense.

there’s a very good piece by malcolm gladwell in the New Yorker archive from like 10 or 15 years ago about how he doesn’t personally believe plagiarism to be that big of a deal. it’s very interesting and basically the lynchpin of his argument is that there isn’t any copyright on ideas. it’s not about the ideas, it’s the execution. think of that scene in the social network when jesse eisenberg says to the fucked up looking winklewhatever twins, “if you were the inventors of Facebook, you’d have invented Facebook”

lot of this seems to be prefaced on the idea of people making money that they “don’t deserve”, which is a philosophical question beyond the scope of this post.

#there’s another word for what somerton does and it’s ‘aggregation’. which happens all over the internet.

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liz-allyn · 2 years

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these violet delights - a dark! mob!peter tale [tasm peter vs kilgrave]

summary: The Purple Man comes to visit Mob!Peter at home.

words: 10.5k

a/n: this began as a submission to Wicked's Trick or Treat, but then it turned into a dead dove, sorry 'bout that. my fancast of the purple man/kilgrave in this universe is Jesse Eisenberg, sporting Lex Luthor vibes. But I love David Tennant and you can picture anyone you want! i also did not use "you" or second-person narrative, instead opting for generic "she/her" pronouns and descriptions.

warnings: so many

I repeat. So. Many. Warnings. Including non-con touching/ sa/ forced sex acts (peter is a victim in this), kidnapping, mind-control, oral (m receiving), cheating, angst, mentions of bodily fluids, mentions of self-h4rm, explicit violence, gore, dead doves for you. and one for you. and one for you. everyone gets a dead dove. do not eat it.

This is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences above the age of 18. Sensitive topics are explicitly discussed. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

The second Peter Parker touched the doorknob of the multimillion-dollar Colonial overlooking Forest Park, gooseflesh spread across the nape of his neck. His movements went still, jaw clenching.

Behind him, the shrieking of young children in the distance exacerbated his nerves. He glanced at the residential street around him, peeking through the golden fall curtains of the trees, then down at the modest Jack-O-Lantern underneath the entryway.

It was Halloween, a couple of hours before sunset. It was a weird time of year. One that always got his blood pumping. Everything usually felt a little off on a night like this. But this was different.

Cautiously, he pushed open the door to his lavish home, stepping inside.

The moment Peter stepped into the darkened foyer of his home, he knew immediately something was amiss. He glanced around cautiously. It was so quiet.

By this time, Eddie should’ve set up the goody table outside. It was his job to keep a friendly face on and keep a look-out while Miles and Penni took shifts handing out candy to the kids.

Peter wasn’t really comfortable with hosting Trick-or-Treaters, or any other guests on his property. Too many strangers. Too much unwanted attention. Miles reasoned that if they weren’t trying to appear like a bunch of greedy mobsters, then maybe they shouldn’t have the biggest house on the block and not hand out candy on Halloween.

Despite seeing no one loitering nearby, Peter knew something was wrong.

It was silent. Grave-level silent.

The hairs on his body stood on end. The back of his neck prickled, his senses stirring to alert him to danger. He crept from the foyer and peeked into the expansive sitting area. There, he discovered a brutal scene.

A massacre.

Bodies spread out. Draped across the floor and furniture. Arranged, like broken stems and torn petals of a bloody bouquet.

It could’ve been mistaken for an elaborate, grotesque Halloween display. Hillbilly Chainsaw Massacre. Summer Camp Slaughterfest. Co-ed Killers From Outer Space. Except that Peter could smell real blood. And that these were members of his crew.

He felt queasy and faint, like being in a plummeting elevator. The rapid flutter of a single heart caught his attention, pulling it away from the carnage.

His eyes darted over to see Felicia Hardy sitting on the bottom step of the grand staircase of his home. Her body slumped against the banister. In her lap, she rested the weight of a Chef’s knife almost as long as her forearm. Cold red droplets streaked across her face and neck. The steel blade was coated in crimson.

Felicia’s expression was hollow. Solemn. Tired. Her chest moved shallowly. “Heya, Spider,” she faintly murmured, not making eye contact.

Peter observed his master-at-arms with concerned dread. Part of him wanted to rush to embrace his longtime friend. The other part kept a considerable distance, eyeing her bloody knife.

“Cat,” was all he could say. Alert. Cautious.

“Killer night, huh.” The sharp exhale she let out sounded like a laugh and a cry. She gazed distantly, making no attempt to move as he inched closer to her. Peter had never seen anyone sleepwalk, but he imagined that it would look like this. It was like she was hypnotized. Possessed.

He swallowed deeply, holding down bile, and crouched down to her eye level. “What happened here?”

A long moment passed. She shuddered, tears building just behind her eyes, “I killed ‘em.” It was a whisper that could barely be heard without his abilities. “He told me to kill them,” she explained, only confusing him further. “Told them all to be still and wait their turn. And they did. So I did.”

He shifted closer to her, heart pounding. “Who told you?”

“They were my friends,” she replied, eyes vacant. “My only friends. And I killed them.”

“Felicia,” Peter said firmly. He reached out his finger slowly, hooking it under her chin. Carefully, he pulled her focus to his gaze. He couldn’t recognize her. The formidable woman, with claws and balls of steel, looked up at him in hopeless shame.

“He told me to sit here and wait for you,” she explained, dread in her voice. “And to tell you he has your girl upstairs.”

He approached the bedroom door with catlike footsteps. Inside the room, he could hear obscene noises—soft breaths, wet lips, eager tongue. His senses shrieked in his skull as his eyes found the wide crevice of the doorway.

He recognized the color of her hair instantly. Her image burned red hot in his periphery the same way it burned into his thoughts. The back of her head. The delicate wings of her shoulders. The undulating ridges of her vertebrae. He followed the perilous ladder of her spine all the way down to her belted waist, where a soft, cloudlike chiffon skirt draped over her bottom.

It was a vision he’d only seen in his dreams. But at the present, he was looking at a nightmare.

The petite woman whom he shared the bedroom with was bent over the lap of a stranger. Her hair obscured his view, but the sinful noises spilling out of the room left little to the imagination. The smell of sex, sweat, tears, and saliva hit him like a cannonball. He blinked several times, eyes questioning, as if he stumbled upon a horrific mirage that his eyelashes could sweep away.

The nightmarish image came into clear focus.

His wife—a newlywed for only six weeks—was on her knees in front of an armchair, head bobbing in the lap of a strange man sitting in front of her. Head thrown back in passion, the man groaned lasciviously over the sound of the young woman’s gurgling throat.

It felt like eons passed with Peter standing in the doorway of his bedroom, just staring in bewildered silence. His mind turned over repeatedly, like he was staring at a puzzle and couldn’t fathom the image it created.

His new bride. His innocent angel. His shrinking violet. Choking down another man’s cock like it was her last meal.

Buried deep, somewhere in the rational parts of his brain, he briefly noted the backless, chiffon halter babydoll she was wearing. It was almost a blush pink in the yellow light of the bedroom floor lamp. Lilac. It looked expensive. He’d never seen it before. It suited her well.

He noticed how soft she looked as her hair brushed across her exposed back. That was something he secretly loved about her—her softness. She was a little lamb. He had yet to see this much of her skin. He’d never seen her like this, so exposed. So filthy.

Incomprehesively, he was almost embarrassed at stumbling upon such an intimate, lewd scene. At the same time, he felt his own cock twitch at the sight.

The confusion in his mind quickly settled. His mind caught up to his vision. His stomach dropped and soured. His heart hammered in his chest. His jaw clenched, bit down so hard he could taste blood. It surged and boiled in his veins.

Another vulgar moan erupted from the man as he reached forward and snatched the back of her head. If there was any uncertainty about what was taking place, the blinders were removed. The stranger gathered her hair in his wide grasp and for the first time, Peter could see his wife’s face.

She was wearing makeup, more than he’d ever seen her wear. Or she had been, at one point this evening. The remnants of her mascara and kohl cat eyeliner ran down her cheeks in wet streams. Her plum wine lipstick was smeared across her lips and chin, the color staining the stranger’s cock as he harshly fucked her throat. She gripped onto the man’s knees for balance, her painted nails digging into his pants.

“Fuck yes...” he could hear the man breathlessly sigh, but the air escaped Peter’s lungs. His mind was racing. His brain was short-circuiting. It was skipping through a barbaric list of commands, his adrenaline screaming at him to take action.

Scream. Run. Cry. Punch. Bite. Claw. Fall. Hide. Yell. Pummel. Kill. Crush. Kill. Hurt. Rip. Kill.

His feet started moving.

In addition to the bellowing commands of his adrenaline, the shrill sirens of his senses got louder with every step.

His heart hurt. There was a sharp ache that surprised him. A little less than two months ago, he hadn’t spoken more than five words to her. Regardless, there was a sickness-laced darkness that threatened to pull him under. The pain confused him. Infuriated him.

They hadn’t even bothered to look up yet. He felt like he was leaving the confines of his body. Watching himself move across the room, stalking silently toward the lovers.

Peter kept his gaze fixed on his lamb—treacherous whore—and the blinding-white-hot rage rising up his throat, threatening to cut off the blood flow to his brain.

After taking a particularly harsh thrust into her mouth, her eyes flew open. She coughed and gagged, her wet lashes fluttering as the man pulled her mouth back off of his cock.

Peter’s senses felt like an axe to the skull. He barely registered the shadow in her expression. His wife looked up at her husband, and that’s when he saw it:

Pure terror screaming from her eyes.

Peter’s brain struggled to catch up to speed. He couldn’t even tell if he was breathing anymore. Already moving in their direction, his arm shot up quickly. His long fingers outstretched toward the couple as he began to pull his middle fingers back to his palm.

“Freeze.”

Peter froze. The soft word muttered aloud brought everything to a halt. Like he’d reached the end of a leash. He nearly stumbled over his own feet and whiplashed slightly with the momentum of his muscles seizing.

“Don’t move,” the man’s soft voice commanded again.

Peter didn’t move. His gaze remained fixed on the last trajectory of his eyesight. He observed his wife, her body frozen and unmoving. She was locked in a straight-backed kneel at the man’s feet, her weight bearing down on her knees in an uncomfortable L shape.

He could observe her carefully in this position. Her chin trembled. She panted, drawing short breaths, as if she was on the verge of hyperventilating. He could hear her heart thrumming twice as fast as his own. That wasn’t the sound of lust. It was fear.

Peter remained as a statue: outstretched arm, muscles tense, chest heaving from an overwhelming mix of rage and panic.

He couldn’t move. He wanted to. But he couldn’t.

His eyes fell back to the occupant in the chair, still lounging back as if it was his bedroom they were in.

The alabaster-faced man gazed up at Peter with a half-smile. Sharp lines accentuated his brow, cheekbones, and jaw. His dark brown hair hung long in unkempt, ragged curls, framing his hollow cheeks and stopping at his jaw.

He looked young, with one of those faces that made him look forever in his twenties. Or thirties. Or teens. Maybe it was the smugness he wore on his face suggesting a foolish youth.

Peter wanted to put his fist through it.

Pale blue eyes stared brightly beneath a jutted brow. The kid’s face widened into a smirk.

“Hi,” he said, as they were having a pleasant meeting. He pointed his index finger at him, shooting a playful finger-gun. “Don’t tell me—you must be Peter.”

Peter was silent. Transfixed. Stunned by the casual tone and the bizarre situation. The stranger flipped a switch, as if he wasn’t just getting his dick sucked, and suddenly paid no attention to the woman genuflecting in front of him.

He grinned warmly, shameless in his partial nudity. “I heard so many things about you. Good things. Y’know. Mostly.”

The kid glanced down at the woman on her knees, then turned back to him. “Congratulations… on the wedding by the way!” he apologetically added, as if had forgotten his pleasantries. “Arranged marriages seem so old-fashioned these days, but I get it. Respect for your culture and all that.”

Peter’s mouth felt cotton-dry. Beads of sweat formed on his brow as he struggled with all of his might to lower his arm. To flex his fingers. To say anything at all. It was to no avail.

The intruder gestured at the young woman on her knees. “I gotcha a present,” he grinned, reaching down and running a long finger beneath the chiffon strap across her shoulder. Peter could see that it was a halter dress of some kind. He watched intently as the man’s fingers slid down the fabric, resting at the top of her breast. “Call it a ‘something borrowed.’ No need for a thank-you card.”

Peter’s nostrils flared at the action, despite what he’d seen just moments ago. Despite the fact that he had no previous plan to win this woman’s heart, or let her win his own. Despite that he felt connected to this person in name and title only. And when he saw, with his own eyes, his new… partner engaging in a sex act only six weeks after their turbulent agreement had been finalized... it wasn’t jealousy.

She didn’t owe him faithfulness, if he really thought about it. Even if he planned to be. He planned to be celibate, to be honest. If he could help it. If he focused his energy on business, and not pleasure.

No, it would make sense that she would’ve taken a lover. Given how cold things were between them.

It wasn’t jealousy.

This stranger’s touch infuriated him. The idea that this audacious asshat dressed his wife in lingerie, and was roving his hands on her like inspecting the trim on a car. Like... she was a possession. She was his possession.

The stranger leaned back comfortably in the armchair as Peter tore himself apart. “I was just catching up with... uh...” He glanced at the girl he was facefucking moments before, then gave up. “I didn’t get her name.” He waved his hand with fanfare. “The lovely Mrs. Parker!” he proclaimed, with a shrug. That was good enough by his standards. “She’s been an above-average hostess this evening.”

Peter swallowed, trying to force his tongue to move. It felt like choking on glass. Seeing her mouth on another man felt like choking on glass.

The vile ‘guest’ reached down, cupping his junk idly. He hadn’t bothered to tuck himself away. Peter watched him disgustedly.

“Oh, that? No, not like that,” the man replied sheepishly, pointing down at his exposed crotch. His eyes darted between Peter and his wife, before elaborating. “Oh! That was nothing. She was just showing me a trick her dad’s friends taught her.”

Peter took that piece of information like a brick to the head. It jarred him. His eyes found her, eyeing the profile of her shamed face. He looked at her, really. For the first time since they had signed the marriage certificate. Her chin quivered gently.

He thought about what little he knew about the woman he agreed to marry. Her father was a crook. And not a good one. He ran a sloppy organization, with sloppy amateurs, and sloppy results. He had never thought too hard about her family, regarding them as a nuisance more than anything.

“They had a nickname for her,” the cruel man continued as if he was telling a hilarious story. “They called her the ‘Black Hole.’” He chuckled, barely able to contain his entertained grin behind thin lips.

Peter glanced over to see quiet tears rolling down his wife’s cheeks. She kept her gaze fixed forward. Stealing her expression, she made a decent attempt to conceal her horror and shame. Peter’s jaw clenched empathetically. His chest burned. The glass found his heart.

The intruder seemed oblivious, finally tucking himself back into his pants with a good-humored headshake, amused with himself. It was after a few seconds that he finally noticed Peter’s grim expression.

“Get it?” he asked, beneath a giggle, his smile dimming only slightly.

Peter glared.

Eventually, the man let his shoulders drop. He muttered bitterly, his fun spoiled. “Right over your head. Oh well.”

The ‘guest’ came to a stand in front of the chair, side-stepping around the abused woman in front of him, leaving her in his wake. He dug his hands in the pockets of his pants, eyes roving around the room. The intruder looked at home, strolling through Peter’s bedroom. He observed in silence, listless, like wandering through a library. Passing judgment on the pieces of Peter’s life.

Peter finally noticed the man’s attire. It was a bizarre mish-mash of items: a sharply-pressed, eggplant-hued button-up, untucked. The tails of the shirt draped over the stretchy waist of oversized joggers. A plum, silk-lined, single-button, velvet tuxedo jacket fit snugly over his shoulders. A lavender pocket square poked out from the breast pocket.

Several blinks later, Peter recognized that all of the items were pulled out of his own closet. Some well worn. Some unused. Right down to the brand new, still-in-the-box, memory-foam slippers that May gifted him years ago.

Peter ground his teeth while glaring at the intruder. This was a message. His dark eyes roved over the callous figure, taking in the prevailing hue.

The Purple Man.

Peter’s blood went cold. He’d never met him, but he’d heard stories: nightmarish fairy tales about a devil who could control you with just a few words. A man dressed in purple, leaving grisly scenes drenched in buckets of crimson in his wake.

Peter didn’t believe in fairy tales. He believed in horror stories.

He believed his friend at the D.A.’s office—the disgraced, former lawyer committed to an institution upstate. The blind madman of Hell’s Kitchen—who claimed that he savagely beat his friends to death with a gavel because The Purple Man told him to do it.

Peter wasn’t sure if he really believed in the Devil. Until now.

“I wonder how much all this cost,” the man in purple stated curiously, observing the molding of the bedroom. He glanced over at Peter, still standing between the doorway and the bed. The next words left his mouth like a cold threat. “Answer me when I speak to you.”

“What did you do to Felicia?” Peter asked, thinking of the woman unable to move from her spot downstairs.

He snorted, “The anime chick with the silver hair?” Peter glowered at him, arm still outstretched. “I was actually really confused when I arrived,” he stated. “I thought that little... slutty minx... downstairs was your wife. I mean, she’s the one that answered the door. She’s way too hot to be a housekeeper. Too skinny to be a cook. She’s got great tits.” He paused and asked, “You think they’re real?” He pondered thoughtfully. “They feel real...”

Peter grimaced at the comment, his blood boiling.

“But no,” the uninvited guest continued, “I was surprised to learn that she’s the ‘head of security.’ I mean, come on. Really?” He barked out a laugh. “I don’t wanna say ‘that’s why you never let a woman do a man’s job,’ but that’s what we’re all thinking, amirite?”

He shrugged, questioning aloud, although the couple rendered silent was his only audience.

The Purple Man glanced over to his timid captive, eyeing her backside lewdly. “And this little angel was up here all by herself.”

Peter bristled.

“She told me you don’t let her out much,” he explained. “Bitched a little about freedom and shit, but...” The intruder lowered his voice to a whisper, a secret just between boys, “I see why you keep her under lock and key. A girl like this doesn’t have any business out and about by herself. Just asking for trouble.”

Peter glared in response, nostrils flaring. The pig headed comment made his skin crawl. On the other hand, he didn’t miss the feeling of guilt that sank in his stomach for locking her up like an object.

The intruder carried on, like he was conversing with a friend. “Yeah, if I was you,” he mused, “I’d have a whole fuckin’ slew of women. A harem. I’d keep one in every room.” He peered towards the doorway but made no move to escape. “I mean this house is ridiculous,” he continued. “You’ve got a lot of rooms. So maybe not every room. A man’s gotta have some peace.”

He shrugged, throwing a sideways glance at Peter. “That’s what I’d do. If I were you.” His voice dropped an octave. “But I’m not you. I’m smarter.”

Peter glowered back, as the two men locked stares. A long moment passed.

“You do know who I am, right?” The Purple Man interrupted suddenly.

Peter recalled a name that Brock discovered while digging through Murdock’s appointment calendar. A high school dropout with an brilliant IQ. An avid gamer. A nobody.

“I know who you are,” Peter replied, beneath a regretful glare. “Gotta be honest, though. Didn’t give two shits about you ‘til now.”

He responded giddily, “I’m pleased that we were able to change that. I mean, what’s a girl gotta do to get you to notice them?”

He whispered with a deadly calmness, like making a vow, “Believe me, Kevin. You have my attention.”

The Purple Man’s face twisted as he spat, “Ugh! God!” He spun on his heel, hissing and kicking indignantly. “I fuckin’ hate that name!” He bristled with anger, rendering a glower. “My mother gave me that name!”

The sudden outburst of rage sent a trickle down his wife’s spine. She shivered, and he spotted it out of the corner of his eye. Their captor didn’t seem to notice.

The intruder shouted with disdain, “How hard is it to show a little fuckin’ respect? I don’t identify with that name. My name is Kilgrave.”

Peter fought to hold in a humorless laugh. “Kilgrave? Isn’t that what your little video game buddies call you?”

“Actually, Kill_Grave_69 is my PSN handle,” he corrected matter-of-factly, his mood shifting dramatically. “I sent Kill_Grave a message, but he hasn’t replied yet.”

“You like playin’ games with people, Kevin?” Peter taunted, his rage bubbling over. “Is’at what this is to you? A game?”

Kilgrave sighed, annoyed and bored. He gazed at Peter, declaring softly, “If you say ‘Kevin’ again, I’ll make your wife bite off her own tongue.”

The woman in reference shuddered on her knees. Peter locked his jaw.

“I’m serious, Peter,” Kilgrave warned. “She likes to swallow.”

Peter’s eyes flicked over to his wife, a pang of sympathy rising in his chest. He was ashamed of himself. Ashamed that the first thought that ran through his mind when he came upon the pornographic scene was betrayal. How daft. How arrogant. How did it not occur to him that she was being forced against her will?

He was a fool to think he could keep her safe. Perhaps it was his pride assuring him that no one would get past the gates of his fortress. It was hubris. His dogmatic belief that he’d prevent tragedy from reaching his loved ones.

At least, not again.

"Spoiler alert, I guess,” Kilgrave added, his lewd commentary interrupting Peter’s self-pity. “That’s another thing we talked about: You guys haven’t fucked.” Kilgrave crossed his arms, glancing back between the couple. “I mean, what’s with that? Talk about trouble in paradise.”

Despite himself, Peter bristled with embarrassment. A tinge of pink on his cheeks added to the red flush of his rage creeping up his neck. “With the size of that rock on her finger,” Kilgrave added, “you’d think that’d be worth at least a couple of blowjobs.”

Her eyelids slammed shut, jaw clenched. Peter glanced down to see the tremble of her legs, her kneecaps digging into the merciless wooden floor. He couldn’t imagine how painful it was, and how long she’d been in that position.

Kilgrave chuckled, staring at Peter with amusement. “Between your wife’s Jaws of Life and your slutty housekeeper’s Triple D’s... What are you, queer?”

His lip twitched at the slur. He struggled to maintain his composure, aware that at any moment he could cause his wife—the frightened lamb—further harm. Simultaneously, he pictured gouging out the mouthy bastard’s eyes with his thumbs.

Peter swallowed hard, speaking when spoken to. “What is it you want?”

“I’m here on business,” Kilgrave shrugged nonchalantly. “But first, I want to play a game.” He looked over at the woman. “We were already in the middle of one when you showed up, but we can start all over again. I guess.” He turned to Peter. “You ever play ‘20 Questions?’ It’s my favorite icebreaker.”

He tilted his head, childishly groaning, “Does this mean I have to listen to you talk about yourself through 20 Monologues?”

“Oh, no, this is all about you guys,” he declared, sitting on the edge of the king sized bed. He licked his thin lips hungrily. “I think what we have is an opportunity for you two to really open up to one another, y’know? Bare your hearts. Let’s see the real juicy stuff!”

The double-entendre was not lost on Peter. He gulped anxiously.

Kilgrave patted down the duvet on either side of him. “C’mon, you two,” he grinned, sparkling with childlike mischief. “Gather ‘round!”

Peter suddenly felt his legs lurch forward, his arm able to drop. The release of his tense muscles was relieving, but immediately he was horrified at being unable to control himself. He approached the bed slowly, sitting next to Kilgrave on the right. Kilgrave looked up to see his wife falter as she attempted to move off her knees. With a yelp, she toppled forward on her face.

Kilgrave snorted, shoulders shaking with humor. “What a klutz.” She half-crawled on wobbly legs, only sparking more laughter.

“Oh my god,” the weasel-like man howled. “She looks like a baby cow!” Peter’s eyes ran over her figure, taking inventory of as many injuries as he could see. One of the halter straps of her dress was askew off her shoulder. Finger shaped bruises peppered her jaw. Her knees were scraped and bloody. There were obviously injuries he could not see. Picturing them was like dunking his brain in acid.

“C’mon, I don’t have all day,” Kilgrave mocked her. He beat on the bedspread emphatically, like summoning a dog. Peter seethed in silence. “C’mon. Atta girl.”

Wincing in pain, she approached the edge of the bed, using her fingers to claw up the duvet. She thrust herself up next to Kilgrave on his opposite side, her legs dangling awkwardly off the edge of the bed.

“There she is,” he sang fondly, before lifting his gangly fingers and slapping them down on her thigh. She gasped at the pain, her legs still prickling as the flow of blood returned to her feet. His hand clamped above her knee, fingers digging into her flesh. “Such a pretty little cow.”

A soft whimper escaped her lips. Peter shut his eyes at the noise, squeezing them tight enough to trigger a migraine. He recognized that she was hanging on to what little power she had, trying to withhold her pain in front of her tormentor. If she could keep it together, then he’d better do the same.

Peter opened his eyes, glaring sideways at him. “You said you were here on business?”

“Easy, easy,” Kilgrave turned to him. “I’m asking the questions here.” He lifted his other hand and settled it on Peter’s thigh. “No need to get all worked up,” he slithered, ice in his eyes. Peter glanced down at the intruder’s hand touching his pant leg. It was a possessive hold, as if he owned Peter like the stolen clothes he was wearing. Like he owned the bed they were sitting on, the house he’d invaded, or the woman he’d assaulted.

Peter met his gaze, stone-faced. But he had the overwhelming urge to cry. From rage or fear or heartbreak, he didn’t know.

“You’ll need to wait your turn,” Kilgrave cooed, like admonishing a child. The most feared mobster in New York, the Unlikely King from Queens—reduced to a child.

“I’m supposed to say something clever, like ‘Mr. Fisk sends his regards,’ or some passive-aggressive bullshit like that. But all that seems so cliche. Dull.” He shot a quick glance, left and right, snuggling into his space between the couple. He knocked his knee into Peter’s playfully. “So. Tell me about you two. How did you meet?”

Peter’s jaw shook like an earthquake, fighting the command. The fight was getting exhausting.

“The day before our wedding,” his wife squeaked out. Her throat sounded raw. “At our house. Or... it used to be my house.” As she spoke, she gazed achingly at the open doorway. She reminisced with a bitter tone. “He brought daisies. Couldn’t hand them to me. Left ‘em on the table. Wouldn’t even look at me.”

Peter’s eyes rested heavily on the floor, brow furrowed.

“He spoke with my father for a half-hour while I waited upstairs,” she recounted, trying to keep her voice from cracking. “Thirty minutes, to decide the rest of my life. Mama locked me in my room. They took away anything sharp. In case I tried to back out.”

Peter looked up and over at her, beyond their tormentor, and watched the way her lip trembled at the admission. He followed the length of her arm down to her idle fingertips. The chiffon dress bunched up around her thighs, revealing her secrets. Etched scars lined her thighs and told a story of a lifetime of suffering. Eyes full of sorrow, Peter looked back up at her face. His heart broke to see that familiar faraway gaze.

“You’d rather kill yourself than marry him?” Kilgrave blurted, snorting repugnantly. “Wow. That’s a ‘swipe-left’ if I’ve ever heard one.”

Peter avoided the urge to comment, holding himself back from shooting a dirty look. He ignored him, keeping his wife in his sight. He hoped that somehow she could feel his gaze. He wanted it to feel like a kind gesture. A warm, friendly ray of light. A compassionate embrace.

She swallowed hard, and for a moment Peter wondered if she could feel him. “I’ve spent my whole life in a cage,” she explained numbly. “Like a pet in a shop waiting to be sold. Waiting for Papa to put me to good use. Or get rid of me somehow.” She whispered sorrowfully, “A coffin’s not so different. At least it’s quiet.”

Peter’s jaw clenched as he felt his eyes sting. It was the hopelessness in her voice. The familiarity of it. He had no idea of the suffering that she endured. He hadn’t fully considered getting to know her. He didn’t truly plan on being alive much longer.

“Hmm,” Kilgrave hummed, considering the weight of her words. “I bet you’re a delight at parties. What did you think of him when you saw him?”

Her husband thought he could see the faintest ghost of a smile flit across her face. She pulled her gaze away from the doorway, and looked at Peter. He nearly flinched at the action. He was too ashamed to look at her.

“Pretty eyes,” she stated, a breath of fondness in her voice. It made his cheeks turn red. “He was prettier than I thought he’d be.” She stared at him. Through him. Like she could see his soul. “My sister told me once that the pretty ones are the meanest.”

He dropped his eyes to the floor.

Kilgrave turned to Peter. “What about you, Prince Charming? What went through your head that night?”

This time, he didn’t fight.

“I just wanted it to be over,” Peter replied, flatly.

Despite herself, she winced. The sting of his words was apparent.

“Oof,” Kilgrave commented. “Bad first impression?”

“That wasn’t the first time I met her,” Peter explained, betrayed by his own tongue. His eyes closed in defeat.

Kilgrave nodded. “Tell me about that.”

He paused, but not for long. “It was at a wedding,” Peter explained. “She was twelve. I was fifteen.” Her eyes shot over to Peter, surprised by the revelation. “She wore a yellow dress with daisies on it. These kids... um. They were pickin’ on her. Callin’ her names.”

His lips turned downwards at the memory, heart aching. “I felt sorry for her. She spent the whole reception cryin’ in the bathroom. We could all hear it.” She looked away, the memory returning to her. “I told those kids to lay off, but... only after...” He let the words fall away. Kilgrave didn’t ask for more this time. It was a meaningless excuse anyway. “She doesn’t remember me,” he affirmed, “but I was there.”

The couple met each other’s eyes briefly, and for a moment they were alone with one another in their thoughts.

“Aww,” the wicked man blushed, his tone thick with saccharine. “That’s sweet. So you knew from the moment you saw her you were gonna marry her?”

“No,” he replied. “She’s not—” He choked on the words. His vocal cords constricting. Swallowed hard. He looked up at her helplessly, seeing the wounded look on her face. It was as if all he could do was hurt her.

“Finish that sentence,” Kilgrave callously commanded.

He begged his mouth to stay closed, but it creaked open. “She’s not Gwen.”

The sound of the name rang out. Tolling like a distant bell harkening some terrible fate. “Oh. Wait.” Kilgrave snapped his fingers near his head, as if he was struggling to fit the pieces of the story together. “Hang on. I’m remembering this.” He made some odd noise, a humming screech that sounded like a computer crashing. “Nope. Sorry. Nothing. Who’s Gwen?”

“She was the woman I loved,” Peter shuddered as he spoke. “We met in high school. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.”

“Okay...?”

“She died,” Peter swallowed dryly. Now they were both staring at him expectantly. It was obvious from his wife’s expression that she didn’t know about Gwen. That was Peter’s design. The seconds ticked by, his wife staring at him with something between curiosity and horror. “It was an accident,” Peter said, suddenly feeling like he needed to.

Kilgrave leveled his gaze at him, studying Peter intently. “Was it really?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. The glass had spread to his veins. “No.”

Her eyes widened at his response. Peter stared at her, his gaze heavy with guilt. Kilgrave made a pleased sound, like taking a bite out of a delicious cake. “Did you kill her?” he smirked ravenously.

“No,” Peter responded quickly. His eyes told a different story.

“Tell me the truth.” Kilgrave’s mouth was watering.

“I didn’t push her,” Peter elaborated grimly. “But I put her in harm's way.” His lip trembled, face crumpling. “She was killed because of me.”

“Siiick,” said Kilgrave, not truly impressed. Peter’s attention wasn’t on him.

Whatever expression he expected from his wife, he got the opposite. She stared at him with pity.

“Well,” Kilgrave sighed, “that was even more of a downer than I anticipated.” He rolled his eyes, kicking his legs idly in frustration. “Fine, sure. You lost one girl. You got another. This one’s still young, and... alive? She seems alright. I mean, I’m sure Gwynn was great, but... are you really gonna spend the rest of your life moping over some dead pussy?

His eyes flashed with rage, “Don’t fucking talk like that about her—”

Kilgrave leaped to his feet, outmatching Peter’s fury, exploding like a bullet out of a gun. Suddenly, he was giant and imposing. A mushroom cloud leering over Peter’s face with fiery eyes and flaming breath.

“YOU don’t get to tell ME what to do!” his voice bellowed, like a crash of thunder. His booming voice was enough to make both of his captives flinch. “Ever! UNDERSTAND?”

Peter looked up at his tormentor and tried to hold back a shudder. The monster’s eyes had gone black and soulless, filled with rage. Any good humor in his nature evaporated instantly, lips pulled tight. His curls vibrated with anger.

As he stared up at him bitterly, Peter heard the sound of his wife’s heart thumping wildly. She kept her head forward and sniffled gently, trying to tighten her trembling jaw. It was as if she was pleading with Peter through her heartbeat. Begging him not to do anything stupid and get himself killed. Because then, she’d be left alone. With him. Again.

A caged animal, indeed.

Several long moments passed before Kilgrave’s shoulders eased up. His features softened, his expression shifting to apathy. He shook the hair out of his face like a dog, exhaled slowly, and sat back down between the couple.

“So,” The Purple Man continued, biting back indignation at being interrupted. “You didn’t want anything to do with the girl. She’s a means to an end. You could care less about her.”

Peter flinched, struggling. He subtly wished he could bite off his tongue to keep it from moving. Kilgrave noticed it immediately.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” he commanded.

Peter exhaled, feeling his heart sink in his chest. “That’s not true,” he muttered quietly, staring apologetically at his wife.

She batted her eyes at Peter, before breaking eye contact and staring ahead before Kilgrave could notice.

“Elaborate,” he replied coldly.

Peter swallowed hard. “I didn’t want to hurt her,” he admitted with a huff. “I wasn’t trying... It wasn’t right, what her father did to her. None of it. He was planning on making a deal with Martello. The Hammerhead. Trading her for protection. I thought—I thought I could help her. Take Hammerhead off the board. Get her father’s loyalty. Help her, like I shoulda helped her when we were kids.” Peter glanced down at the floor, his forehead creased. “I shoulda stayed out of it.”

Kilgrave hummed, nodding as if he was filled with wisdom, “Tale as old as time. Women are our inevitable downfall.”

Peter bit his tongue, closing his eyes to keep them from rolling, holding back an offending remark.

Kilgrave moved on, looking over at the woman in question. “What about you, cowgirl?” he questioned, with a slight smirk. “Your daddy sent you off like a dowry. A sheep for the slaughter.”

Her darkened eyes remained fixed on the floor. Peter admired her strength.

“You didn’t wanna play house with the rich man with nice eyebrows?”

“How should I know,” she bit like a whipcrack, her words laced with venom. “He hasn’t spent more than five minutes with me since I got here.”

It was a stunning display of boldness from her, surprising both men. Kilgrave pulled back his gaze, eyeing her with intrigue.

“There we go,” Kilgrave simpered. “Now we’re getting to the good stuff.” He turned to Peter who was trying to focus on remaining silent. His efforts were dashed the moment Kilgrave spoke. “Respond.”

“She hates me,” Peter immediately murmured, then bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. “She hasn’t said it. But I know. She... she can’t stand to be in the same room as me. I hate the way she makes me feel.”

He would’ve willed himself to stop breathing if it meant no more words would spill out. But Kilgrave was hooked, engaged in his favorite television drama.

“How does she make you feel?” Kilgrave beckoned, hungry for more.

Peter’s brow furrowed. “Like a monster.”

She let out a slow exhale, her resolve crumbling as tears dripped down her face.

Peter barely recognized his own voice, sounding as weak and broken as he felt. “She’s terrified of me. Cries in the room all the time. Won’t even look me in the eye. Like I’m... like I’m gonna hurt her or—” He swallowed hard, “I-I wouldn’t do that.”

“Or what? Finish what you were going to say,” he ordered coldly.

Peter squeezed his eyes tight, exhaling slowly. “Like I’m going to beat on her. Rape her.”

She went rigid; ice in her veins. Kilgrave shifted in his seat, adjusting his lap ever so slightly. “Is that what you like doing, Peter?”

“No,” Peter responded without hesitation, eyes defensive. “Never. I don’t...” He glowered at Kilgrave. “I’m not sick like that.”

If he could tell that it was a subtle insult, Kilgrave didn’t let on. “What are you like, Peter?” he grinned wickedly. “Be truthful. When was the last time you hurt someone?”

He stared. Mouth closed. Helpless. “This morning.”

Kilgrave smiled, holding his gaze. “Did you kill them?”

“Yes.”

“Did they suffer?”

Peter blinked at him, fighting a sting in his eyes. He spotted the way his wife shivered in his periphery. “Yes.”

“And did you like it?” he asked, like the cat that ate the cream. “How did it make you feel?”

Peter wished he could vanish into thin air. He let out a shaky breath, his eyes brimming with tears. “I felt powerful,” he admitted, shame and self-hatred evident in his tone. “It made me feel strong. Felt like justice. For Gwen. I liked it.”

The long-haired man chuckled darkly, “You really think it has anything to do with justice?”

A tear escaped his eye. Peter thought of the final expression on Gwen’s face, blood dripping from her mouth and nose. “I don’t know,” he answered. It was the truth.

Kilgrave’s expression shifted, unhappy with the answer. “Okay, Peter Parker. Pillar of pious penitence.” He spat each word mockingly, leaning closer to the taller man, invading his space menacingly. Peter knew he couldn’t stand anyone having the moral advantage over him. Or any advantage.

“Tell me this then,” Kilgrave glowered, hissing through gritted teeth. “Maybe you’re not a rapist, but you’re not a eunuch.” His piercing blue eyes dropped downwards. “At least that I can tell. You sleep under the same roof as this...” Kilgrave glanced over at his wife, his eyes roving down her chest and legs. “...Sacrificial calf, tell me—Have you ever thought of just fucking her and getting it over with?”

Peter felt his heart seize in his chest. The air caught in his throat.

“Answer the question!” Kilgrave barked.

His jaw clenched. “Yes,” he irked out, shamefully. “I have.”

“Ah ha!” Kilgrave rejoiced, clapping his hands together. “So the boy’s cock does work. Let’s hear about it.”

“I don’t...” Peter stuttered, his skin beginning to crawl. “I-I don’t wa—”

Kilgrave gripped Peter’s shoulder tight. It was like clutching a stone in his fist. He leered over him regardless, pouring poison into his ear. “Details, Peter. Details. You want to fuck her, right? How bad? You ever jerk off thinkin’ about itr?”

“Yes,” he choked out. He let his eyes fall closed, ashamed and unable to look at the woman whose life he had destroyed.

“You watch her when you do it?”

“N-no,” he stuttered. “Sh-shower.”

“What do you like about her? What’s your favorite part? Her ass, right? You strike me as an ass man.”

Peter hoped that soon Kilgrave would tell him to throw himself off of a building. “Her eyes.”

Kilgrave groaned, deflating at the answer.

“She’s innocent,” Peter added truthfully, with bleary eyes. “Not like—” He clipped the words, but one look from his tormentor reminded him of the futility of his resistance. “Not like me,” he whispered, heartbroken.

The Purple Man glared at him, stewing with disdain.

“Poor Peter Parker,” he mocked with a singsong tone. He gazed down at him through narrow slits, regarding him as ant under a bright magnifying glass. “Pitiful, pathetic prince of pathos. Pauper of power.”

Disgraced, he stared back, hollow and exposed. The sensation of a tear rolling down his cheek stirred him.

“Do you want to know why I like to play video games?” Kilgrave stated coolly.

He could think of a hundred vicious replies. A hundred ways to hurt, maim, and kill. But none of them were real options. He looked at him apathetically. Hopelessly. It didn’t matter how he responded.

“It’s an even balance of power,” Kilgrave elaborated. “A fair fight.” His eyes roved over Peter’s figure, sizing him up from head to toe. “All I need is two thumbs and I can win fair and square. Keeps things challenging.”

The maniac fell silent, staring at Peter in a way that made his skin crawl. His smile faded. Again, the friendly persona evaporated. He spoke again with a voice weighed down with malice.

“You have all this money,” he stated. “All these... pawns, like the dead ones downstairs.” He reached over, squeezing Peter’s bicep gently. “You work out.” He gently patted Peter’s cheek. “You’ve got a pretty face. All this... ‘power.’” His azure eyes leveled, and the look sent a chill down Peter’s spine. “And yet all I hear about is how sad your little lonely life is. Your shitty bad luck. Your dead parents and your dead blonde whore.”

Peter’s chest heaved, filled with fear or fury. He bit the inside of his lip, watching the vitriol rising in the man.

Cruel jealousy filled his words. “You got it so easy, you don’t even know it,” Kilgrave hissed. “Silver spoon up your ass. Guys like you, you think you can just buy everything you want? You think you can just bully everyone? Beat them into submission?”

The intruder’s heart beat even faster with self-righteous fervor. He was insane, Peter concluded, unhinged and oblivious to the hypocrisy of his words.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re not scared of me,” Kilgrave sneered. “Doesn’t matter if you couldn’t give two shits. Doesn’t matter if you own the whole world. I control you. All I have to do is say the words. That is real power, my friend.”

Kilgrave jumped to his feet, standing tall in front of the couple. He puffed up like a god casting down judgment. He was drunk on his version of power. Basking in the glow of their helpless misery.

“And sure,” he added, his smile growing larger, his voice getting louder. “When I’m done here, there’ll be a limo waiting for me. And I’m gonna go to the nicest hotel in the city. I’m gonna order room service, and I’m going to eat it off the girl at the front desk’s naked body.”

He proclaimed this triumphantly. Like he was standing in a pulpit. Like he could hear thunderous applause. He probably could.

“And then I’m gonna play a few hours of Call of Duty,” he continued. “I’m gonna kill a few spoiled little shitheads like you online, and even if I lose the game...” He laughed with a careless shrug, “I’ll just tell them to go fuck their mothers and swallow bleach.”

“Then I’m gonna leave with my giant suitcase full of Wilson Fisk’s money,” he spat each word at the couple, matching their disgusted horror with his own outrage. “But before you judge me, let me tell you that I don’t do it for the money, Mister and Missus Parker.”

He popped the ‘P,’ like a bloody dot on the end of a sentence.

“I do it because I like it,” he declared. “I like to help people. And when you help people, good things happen to you!”

Kilgrave took a deep breath, and exhaled loudly. He was regaining his composure, albeit for dramatic effect. “So, now for my next question, Peter, I ask you this:” he leaned forward, placing both hands on the bed as he glanced back and forth between the horrified duo. “Trick or Treat?”

Peter blinked silently, terrified to respond.

“Choose!” Kilgrave roared.

“Treat!” Peter yelped, tears running down his face.

“Good choice,” Kilgrave declared. “Now. Are you finally ready to fuck your wife, or should I do it for you?”

Peter’s eyes were black as coal, overcome with rage. He whispered, agonized, “Touch her and I’ll rip your fucking throat out—”

From the tuxedo jacket pocket, Kilgrave suddenly brandished a straight-edge razor. It flashed in the low-light of the bedroom. He handed it to the woman he only regarded as ‘Missus’ Parker.

“Use this to cut your own face off,” he commanded. The moment the razor went into her hand, she closed her fist on the blade. Her eyes were wide with fright, her arm trembling.

“No! Stop!” Peter bellowed, voice shattering weakly, as he reached out and grabbed the end of the razor. He clutched the blade, feeling the sting of it in his palm.

Kilgrave leapt backward with alarm. “Nobody move!”

The couple didn’t move. Both hands on the blade of the razor. Blood spilling into blood. Kilgrave’s eyes went back and forth between the two of them, before settling on Peter suspiciously.

“You really do care about her,” Kilgrave stated, intrigued. His voice was thoughtful and unsure, as if he was observing the results of an experiment. He watched Peter’s tortured expression carefully. His lip trembled, his eyes wet.

“Please,” Peter begged him, shaking uncontrollably. Swallowing every ounce of pride, he pleaded for mercy. “Please. It’s me that Fisk wants. She’s got no part in this.”

Kilgrave stared quietly, as if he was considering it seriously. It was enough to give Peter hope.

“Drop the razor,” he ordered.

The weapon clanged as it hit the floor, narrowly missing their limbs.

“I’m sorry, I just thought of another question,” Kilgrave declared, leaving Peter’s plea unanswered. He leaned in close between them, his thin lips positioned between both sets of ears. “Cards on the table. If you had to choose, right now,” he asked devilishly. “Who would you rather have rape your wife?” He locked eyes with Peter, smirking sadistically. “Me? Or you?”

Peter’s heart sank as it threatened to burst from his chest. He held Kilgrave’s stare, peering up powerlessly. His stomach lurched, bile rising in his throat.

This was a message, he thought. A warning to all who dared to stand up to powerful men like Wilson Fisk. Those who were arrogant enough to try to beat the devil at his own game.

It didn’t matter that Peter may have been the lesser of two evils. They were all evil. The city was overflowing with evil deeds and evil men. Like his father-in-law. Like Fisk. Like Kilgrave.

Like Peter.

Kilgrave simply smiled. Because he knew what Peter really was.

He knew what his answer would be.

And how poetically unjust was it—in his flimsy attempt at protecting this poor girl he pitied, the woman he wondered if he could one day love—that he would be the one to hurt her. He had imprisoned her to protect her. And he was going to cause her suffering.

He really was a monster.

But Kilgrave just wanted him to say it out loud.

Peter’s lip wobbled as he watched the intruder raise an eyebrow. He was waiting.

“Answer the question,” Kilgrave grinned wickedly. “Who would you rather it be?”

He tried to keep his mouth closed, but it felt like trying to hold back an avalanche. He knew exactly what word was going to come out, and with it, the contents of his stomach would follow. The remnants of his broken soul soon after.

“Peter.”

Kilgrave blinked, turning towards ‘Missus’ Parker. He’d forgotten she was there.

The woman sat calmly on the foot of the bed, her bloody hands placed in her lap. Blood droplets staining her scars. Her body was a mountain. Steady. Unfazed.

She locked eyes with Kilgrave. There was an audacious half-smirk on her face.

“I would rather it be Peter,” she answered, knowing well-enough that the question wasn’t directed at her to begin with. She didn’t care. She was making her thoughts known.

“I would rather be probed by aliens,” she stated confidently, hatred woven into each word. “I would rather be railed by every dick in a leper colony. I’d rather be inbred by a family of cannibal hillbillies. I’d rather be fucked by a grizzly bear.”

Her voice taunted him, seething through gritted teeth, “Literally. Anyone. Else.” She glared at him viciously. “Anyone but you.”

Kilgrave’s face fell slowly, his eyes growing cold at her harsh rejection.

She smiled, victorious, if only in this one fight. “And no matter what you say, that’ll never change.”

His eye twitched as he glared at her. She relished in the way his nostrils flared, basking in the glow of his rage. Savored the way a vein bulged from his forehead.

Kilgrave studied her lividly, crossing his arms. “You heard the lady,” he replied. He commanded, “Pin her down.”

Peter’s hands shot forward of their own accord, grabbing his wife’s wrists and throwing her back across a bed they had never shared until this moment. Despite her resolve, she shrieked as she attempted to push him off. She twisted like a snake beneath him.

Tears sprang from his eyes and hers. He could hear his own disembodied voice, mumbling incoherently, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry so sorry...”

In seconds she was subdued under him, his hips pinning hers down.

Peter watched her fall silent and still, tears rolling down the sides of her face. He squeezed his eyes closed, focusing his energy on releasing her wrists to no avail. Hot droplets from his eyes splattered as they fell on the skin of her heaving chest.

“Don’t do this,” he pleaded, to anyone who would listen. “I don’t... don’t wanna do this...” He squeezed his eyes tighter.

“Look at me,” he heard her whisper. He opened his eyes at the sound of her voice.

She gazed up at him, her eyes gentle. Sympathetic. He wanted to drown himself in them.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she timidly whispered. “We’re gonna be okay.” He wanted to collapse under the weight of his guilt.

He trembled, “Please don’t hate me. Please, I’m... I can’t...”

“I know,” she nodded softly, barely above the sound of her heart. “I know. You’re nothing like him.”

Peter gritted his teeth, sobbing, growling as he tried to move his hands, only peeling one finger away from her wrist.

“Give me her panties,” Kilgrave coldly ordered.

Peter’s hand reached under the skirt of the dress, gripping onto stretchy lace. With a snap, he tore the fabric from her waist. She yelped at the burn. He held his trembling hand outstretched, presenting Kilgrave with his trophy.

He snatched the underwear, examining it in his hand. “Well, whaddya know,” he sneered. “Looks like she’s not that broken up about this after all. She’s dripping wet. Just like a whore.”

Kilgrave tucked the underwear back in his jacket, turning listlessly toward the brutal scene. “Put your hand on her throat.”

She flinched as Peter followed the order. His large palm settled heavily the base of her throat.

Kilgrave peered over at them, intently watching the way his hand circled her neck. Blood from the razor cut on his palm coated her throat, making a sticky red mess. Kilgrave licked his lips at the sight.

“Such large hands,” his tormenter observed. “Bet you’re strong. Bet you could just... crush her throat with just your thumb and forefinger. Like snapping a toothpick” Peter’s bloody hand trembled, his whole body quaking with terror. “I wonder what that would sound like.”

Peter shook his head, spiraling into panic, “P-Please don’t—”

“Relax,” Kilgrave admonished him, as if scolding a frightened child. Sickeningly, Peter felt his pulse slow down. His next breaths were even and steady. Kilgrave grinned, “I told you that you were gonna get a chance to fuck your wife, did I not?”

She bit her trembling lip, glaring over at Kilgrave from the side of her vision. He stared back at her, skewering her with his look. “I never said she would be alive when you did it.”

Peter felt like he was going to be sick. His skin went cold and clammy. Kilgrave broke into a fit of giggles.

“Fucking coward,” Peter ground out, shooting a glare at The Purple Man. “You wanna beat somebody? You wanna kill me? Just fucking do it. C’mon, just be a man and let’s do this—”

Kilgrave yawned, rolling his eyes. “Dirty talk, hmm,” he glowered mockingly. “Careful with that mouth. Unless you want my cock in there too.”

The muscles in Peter’s shoulders went rigid as he stared at him. His throat bobbing. His voice squeaked, “Is-Is that w-what you want?”

Kilgrave tilted his head, curiously. Peter sounded... hopeful, almost. He gazed at him, feeling like prey begging a predator not to eat him.

Peter blinked away tears, sensing a tug on the lure. He cleared his throat, softening his gaze. “C’mon,” Peter reaffirmed, steadying his voice placatingly. “Let’s go then. Just you and me. I’ll do whatever you want.”

It was a bold offer. Not surprising, but bold. Kilgrave studied him closely, the gears turning in his mind. He finally snickered, amused.

“You will,” he sneered with a twisted grin. “I have no doubt about it.”

Peter’s eyes followed him, unsure of his meaning. Kilgrave stalked up to the end of the bed, reaching forward and wrenching Peter’s hair back. He gasped at the sharp pain, his neck vulnerably exposed.

“Tell you what,” The Purple Man replied, tauntingly. Kilgrave reached down for the hand resting on his wife’s throat. Slowly, he pulled it up to his mouth.

Peter let it happen. He didn’t have to be told.

“You be a good boy,” he said, turning his hand over. Kilgrave stuck out his tongue and ran it over Peter’s palm, licking the wound. He bit back bile as he watched Kilgrave lick his blood from his lips. “And maybe, I’ll let you share.” His blue eyes travelled over to his wife’s, shooting her a threatening glance.

She lifted up off of the comforter, wrists still firmly in place with Peter’s other hand. It didn’t matter. Kilgrave was close enough that she hit her target. He screeched and hissed as she shot a wad of spit in his eyes.

“Ow, ow, gross!” he roared as if he’d suffered the most egregious of indignities. He rid himself of the velvet jacket, using it to wipe at his face furiously. When he turned back to her, he was livid.

“That’s it!” he screamed. Kilgrave stalked towards the bed, tossing the jacket aside. “Fucking whore!” he hissed. He reached down, snatching the razor off the floor. “Sorry, Pete. I’m tagging you out.”

He gripped Peter’s hair once again, pulling his neck back. She shrieked as she saw the razor come up to her husband’s throat. The blade sliced into his flesh, leaving a red-hot mark.

In an instant, Peter’s hand moved to stop the blade.

Kilgrave was stunned.

So was Peter, with his hand gripping the monster’s wrist.

It was as if his Spider-sense reacted before his consciousness. A reflex of self-preservation.

Kilgrave’s eyes widened with horror, his lips beginning to move. Seizing the opportunity, Peter flexed his hand, triggering his web-shooter. The intruder was thrust backward, a sticky mass pummeling his face and covering his mouth.

He stumbled backwards, collapsing on his knees, pulling wildly at his gag. The web wouldn’t move. He was silenced.

Chest heaving, Peter turned over his palm, observing the wound already starting to heal. He looked over at Kilgrave, understanding the biology of how his powers worked.

Kilgrave was a disease. His existence was a plague. His words were a virus.

One that Peter’s body could fight, given the right antibodies. From the moment Peter’s blood came in contact with Kilgrave’s saliva, his body did the rest.

He released the arms of the woman beside him, pulling his other hand back as if he touched fire.

Kilgrave scrambled like a cockroach in the light. Peter watched him attempt to scurry away. He released another web, yanking the man’s legs out from under him. Tangled and bucking frantically, Kilgrave rolled over on the floor.

He met Peter’s gaze, his expression dark. Monstrous. And immune.

Fear turned the blue in his eyes to ice. In the blink of an eye, Peter reached down and snatched Kilgrave up by the throat, lifting him off the ground. The shorter man kicked wildly. Peter sucked in labored breaths, imagining the sound of a toothpick snapping. Tears continued to run down his cheeks, a storm of grief and hatred fueling the crackling lightning of his eyes.

He reached forward, grabbing Kilgrave by the chin. His fingers reached over the web and expanded across the man’s jaw. The part of Kilgrave that he used to hurt his wife. To torture his family.

Peter's mind was blitzed. Body on autopilot. Defaulting to factory settings. Returning to his innate nature.

With a tear-soaked growl that turned into an agonized scream, Peter gripped Kilgrave’s jaw with enough pressure to crack the bone. The ridges of his fingertips buried themselves into his flesh. With a final howl, Peter snatched his hand back. And with it, he ripped the jawbone from Kilgrave’s skull.

The sound of the crack was grotesque. The spray of blood was everywhere. Stickying his skin. Filled their nostrils with the scent of copper.

Peter blinked several times. So did Kilgrave. Both men stared in awe of the horrific act of violence.

The only difference was that one of them was now missing half a face. His tongue dangled limply from his throat, and he became the walking dead.

Kilgrave’s legs buckled beneath him as he dropped down to his knees. Peter’s arms twitched, his body trembling from adrenaline, terror, and rage. He stared down into the piercing blue eyes of the intruder who was currently grappling with the horror of having his power taken away.

Peter watched the blood pour from The Purple Man’s mouth, his stomach twisting. Not at the gore, but at the feeling of relief. He stepped back, relishing in the savage violence as much as he feared it.

He jolted at the rustling sound beside him. The weary woman approached him from the side, arms wrapped protectively across her chest. She stared at Peter’s deed with a wary expression. He shrunk back away from his wife, avoiding her eyes. Afraid of what she’d see.

A gargling noise spewed out as the blood began to fill Kilgrave’s exposed throat. He was fighting for consciousness. Fighting to survive.

Peter glanced at the frightened woman beside him. He should turn her away. He should shield her eyes—

She stepped forward with the straight razor in her hand. He watched her reach down, methodically wrapping her fingers around Kilgrave’s tongue. With a swipe of the razor, she sliced it off. He grunted in pain, the action rolling his eyes up. He finally keeled over.

Peter watched her in stunned silence, listening as Kilgrave’s pulse went quiet. She glowered down at her tormentor’s body, her chest and arms covered his blood. Her hands gripping the razor and the man’s tongue. Both of them hard-earned trophies.

She turned around and looked up at Peter. They locked eyes, standing in the dim light of their bedroom.

For the first time, they saw each other clearly.

She wasn’t a lamb, or a pet. She wasn’t an animal.

Neither was he.

He regarded her with admiration. She regarded him with forgiveness. Compassion softened their eyes as they observed each other. And by rendering compassion towards one another, they showed mercy toward the reflection of themselves.

Exposed, for what each of them really was.

Whatever they had to be, to survive.

Did you enjoy this story? If you did, please REBLOG, COMMENT, or leave an anonymous ask and let me know how you thought I did. Thank you for supporting fandom, and supporting me!

A/N

in case there is any confusion, I am fully aware that my version of kilgrave is an unrepentant, evil sack of shit. he says and holds beliefs that are outrageously offensive, inappropriate, and ignorant. I do not vibe with anything this character says or does. It’s fiction ;-)

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aaron-kennedy78 · 1 month

Text

Now You See Me 3 News!!

First of all, Jesse Eisenberg (via Collider) confirmed that he's already read the script of the movie and that the filming "Hopefully it will happen in the next six months". He also gave a hint of what could possibly be the title of the movie:

"And so when I'm reading this new script for Now You See Me , or Now You 3 Me as we've been calling it — I'll get in trouble for that — I'm thinking, “oh, wow, these actors who I'm friends with, who are all genius actors are gonna be so funny in this.”

Also, Lionsgate gave it's presentation at CinemaCon 2024 with a lot of news about future projects, etc.

One of the things that were confirmed involves the third movie of the NYSM franchise and it states that it will be directed by Ruben Fleischer (which we already knew) and that it will be "starring the original cast with a new generation of magician thieves"...

With this, rumours have been around claiming that Isla Fisher will come back to portray Henley Reeves once again, but, this has not been confirmed, at least not explicitly... So we will have to wait for more news in the next months,

On the other hand, Ariana Greenblatt has been confirmed (by Deadline and herself via Instagram) to be joining the cast for the movie, it's unknown what role will she play but, considering the description that Lionsgate made of the movie, she will likely be a member of the new generation of magicians,

#now you see me 2 #now you see me #jesse eisenberg #now you see me movie #woody harrelson #now you see me 3 #isla fisher #dave franco #ruben fleischer #ariana greenblatt #lionsgate

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jjsmaybank20 · 1 year

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could you do andrew garfield x reader that you got invite to your friend wedding, lots of people coming, you bump into someone, you apologize, he just want to tell reader that he could sit with you in church, after that you two talk in reception, he was glad to have someone like reader

(hope you will write it, thanks and have a good day)

Happy Little Accident

Andrew Garfield x GN!Reader (Platonic)

Summary: You remenice on your friendship with the wonderful Andrew Garfield.

Warnings: Reader wears suits, referred to once as man

Word Count: 958

A/N: For this, just pretend that Jesse Eisenberg got married in 2010. Also, italics are memories.

navigation celebrities (platonic) masterlist

---

Usually you weren’t a fan of interviews. But this one was more fun than the rest. Not only were you being interviewed by Jimmy Fallon, who always made interviews fun, but your best friend, Andrew Garfield, was getting interviewed with you.

You were in your dressing room when a stage hand came in and told you that you were on stage in 5 minutes. You walk to the side before going out when Jimmy calls your name.

Waving, you walk on stage and shake hands with the man. Then, Jimmy calls out Andrew. You stand up so you can give the man a hug.

Once you are both settled in, and the crowd has settled down, Jimmy starts. “Y/N, dashing as always. You’re rocking your suit better than Andrew is!”

You laugh at that before replying, “Always have, always will.” Andrew slaps your arm in retaliation.

“So! First off, we know you guys are in your 7th movie together! Holy cow! This one is a little film called Spiderman: No Way Home. Now I have to ask, how long have you guys known each other?”

You huff and go to reply before Andrew sighs and says, “Wow. It’s been a while now, hasn’t it. We met in 2010, so…” You answer at his pause.

“We’ve been friends for about 14 years now. Damn, we’re old.” Andrew nods while grinning.

“So how did you two meet? Because you weren’t in The Social Network, were you? That came out in 2010.” Jimmy asks, sounding genuinely intrigued.

You thought back to when you first met your now best friend.

14 years ago…

You normally weren’t this clumsy, but this wedding was absolutely packed. While you walk backwards, you apologize to the person who you had just bumped into.

Just as you turn around, you bump into a very tall, lanky man. He starts to fall, but you quickly reach out to grab him.

“Thank you so much. I would be so embarrassed if I fell on my arse in front of all of these people.” The man says in a clipped British accent. “I’m Andrew.”

“I am so sorry for bumping into you! I’m Y/N. Can I buy you a drink as an apology?” You realize you are still holding onto his arm. You let go, before extending your hand for a handshake.

He grins at you before reciprocating. “I might just take you up on that offer. Also, so sorry, but could I sit with you? I honestly don’t know anyone here except for the groom.”

You nod and smile at him, noting the relief on his face. “How do you know Jesse?” You inquire.

“Well, I’m an actor. We did The Social Network together, and got pretty close on set. He invited me, and I think he forgot that he’s the only one I know here.”

You laugh before stating, “Yeah, that sounds like Jesse. Well now you also know me. C’mon, let's go find our seats so Jesse’s Grandmother doesn’t pick on me wearing a suit like she always does.”

He chuckles at that before following you into the church.

---

After the ceremony, you walk with Andrew to the reception, getting to know each other better. You tell him that you also act, and have been in a few movies.

He asks if that’s how you know Jesse, but you tell him that you actually have known each other since you guys were children.

You sit down at the bar and start telling Andrew embarrassing stories about Jesse from when you guys were kids. Suddenly, you feel someone practically pounce on your back.

“There he is! Man of the hour! Congratulations, dude.” You say while clapping your childhood friend on the back.

He exhales before excitedly saying, “I’m married, Y/L/N! This is crazy.” Then he notices Andrew seated next to you. “Ah! I’m glad you met Andrew. So sorry, Garfield, I forgot that I’m probably the only person you know here.”

You and Andrew share a look before bursting out laughing. That’s exactly what you knew he would say. Jesse looks at you two, super confused. “What? What’d I say?” You shake your head, muttering “nothing”, wiping tears from your eyes.

Jesse shakes his head in amusement before wandering off to greet his other guests. When you and Andrew finally calm down, you go back to talking about your lives. Losing track of time, you guys talk for hours, truly cementing your friendship when you exchange numbers.

---

“So you guys are friends because Y/N Y/L/N knocked Andrew Garfield over, and because Jesse Eisenberg forgot that Andrew didn’t know anyone at his wedding?” Jimmy asks incredulously.

You nod, realizing how stupid the story of how you met was. “We truly became friends when we had one of those talks that went really deep. Like we were talking about our traumas and shit.” You realize you cursed and quickly cover your mouth.

Andrew laughs at you before looking at you softly. “I’m really glad I met you though. I don’t know what I would do without you. I would definitely have not made it this far.”

The audience awws and you smile at the man next to you. “Man, you can’t make me cry on TV. I have an image to uphold. But seriously, same man. I wouldn’t have made it through the pandemic without you. I love you, dude.”

“I love you too, man.” Glancing out at the audience, you realize that without the man next to you who you consider more a brother than a friend, there would be no way that you would be where you are today.

You couldn’t be happier that you knocked Andrew over, because if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have had this beautiful 14-year friendship.

---

Join my taglist!

#andrew garfield x you #andrew garfield x y/n #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield x gn!reader #platonic andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield fluff #andrew garfield #gn!reader #female!reader #andrew garfield x female!reader

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invisibleicewands · 10 months

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Take Two with Lizzy Caplan

As actress Lizzy Caplan Zooms from her Los Angeles living room, a massive fiddle-leaf fig tree looms behind her. She takes no credit for its Seymour-like size. "I don't know anything about plants, and we don't even live here half the time," she says giving props to the woman who takes care of such things when Caplan decamps to London for the other half with her husband, British actor Tom Riley, and their toddler, Alfie.

Last year, a few months after Alfie's birth, that schedule was disrupted by a six-month residency in New York while she played the pivotal role of Libby in Fleishman Is in Trouble. After wrapping, Caplan had a few weeks to move the family back to Los Angeles and begin shooting the Paramount+ series Fatal Attraction for the next four months. And aside from coming down with Covid between jobs, she loved every intense minute of it.

"I had Alfie without either of these roles being locked in, and then when he was just a few weeks old I decided to do both of them back to back, which is such a rare occurrence: to know what I'm doing for a full calendar year," she says. "It was a godsend, honestly, to know just where we would be in the world with this new baby. It was a very strange year, and the challenge was everything that I hoped it would be. It's a moment where your identity is in such flux, and you don't know where it's going to land, and for me, figuring out how to be a mother alongside getting to feel creatively fulfilled in the job that I love was incredible."

First came Fleishman. The FX on Hulu limited series from showrunner Taffy Brodesser-Akner, who adapted it from her novel, is ostensibly about Toby Fleishman (Jesse Eisenberg), a put-upon Manhattan doctor whose wife, Rachel (Claire Danes), disappears, leaving him with their two kids and a mountain of questions. He tries to navigate his new normal with help from two college friends, Seth (Adam Brody) and Libby, who also narrates the story.

But as the eight episodes progress, the focus shifts to Rachel and Libby. "What's impressive about it is that it fully works as that fake-out, Upper East Side of New York story on its own," Caplan says. "You think that Libby's telling you a story about her friend going through a divorce, but the reality is, she is facing down her feelings about her own life and middle age and getting older and all of it, and then it makes you cry."

She doesn't usually watch her own work, but in this case, she rewatched it. "I'm in awe of all my castmates," she says, beginning with Eisenberg, with whom she starred in the 2016 film Now You See Me 2. "I give Jesse credit for shouldering it all, only to recede into the background for the quote-unquote 'important' parts. It's an egoless performance, as well as being my favorite performance of his; he's so exceptionally wonderful in it. I'm impressed by Claire, who sat on the sidelines and let everybody think about her [character] in a certain way, only to have this one episode to try to change everybody's minds. That's a scary idea for many actresses: 'You're going to be reviled for six weeks.' Adam Brody played a character that could have been two-dimensional, and he infused it with so much. Everybody showed up trying to make the piece better and nobody was looking out for themselves."

Caplan isn't on social media but became aware of the show's buzz in her own way. "It's been a while since I've done something that got so much feedback from friends and family. And they all felt exactly how Taffy wanted them to feel, every step of the way. What she's done is masterful."

Reached by phone in New York, Brodesser-Akner is equally effusive. "People in my life tell me to shut up about Lizzy Caplan," she says immediately. "I won't stop talking about how wonderful she is. When she is part of your project, she feels so wholly in — intellectually, physically — that she changes the nature of the project. Literally, this was a character based on me, and after day one, it no longer was. It was this wholly new creation."

Caplan was the only actress the first-time showrunner had in mind for the role. "The entire role of Libby is that you never see her coming, and with Lizzy Caplan, you never see her coming." Meanwhile, the actress had written to her friend and Masters of Sex executive producer Sarah Timberman, who was working on Fleishman, to tell her how much she loved the book — and that she wanted to play Libby. When Brodesser-Akner heard that, "I felt like I had manifested it," she says. "She's a very famous person that we all think is our great secret."

Ever since Caplan's first role, at the age of fifteen, in the NBC cult series Freaks and Geeks, her career has had a slow build. She won acclaim as the goth outsider Janis Ian in the hit film Mean Girls, while feeling like a Hollywood outsider in real life. She dyed her hair blonde and sprayed on a tan in an effort to fit in, but it was her 2009 role in Party Down that was the turning point. She shone as the sardonic (brunette) comedian Casey in the Starz series, along with a murderer's row of actors on the rise. But the show couldn't find an audience and was canceled after two seasons — until this year's reboot. (Heartbroken she couldn't join season three, which conflicted with the Fleishman shoot, Caplan did manage a surprise cameo in the finale, and hopes a fourth season will allow her return. Starz has yet to announce a renewal.)

Even with the greater attention (and Emmy nomination) for her turn as Virginia Johnson in Showtime's drama series Masters of Sex (2013–16), she has somehow remained an under-the-radar fan favorite. "It's the best version of doing this," she notes. "It's not toxic, it's very loving and people are very respectful." She adds that with Masters of Sex, "I did get an influx of women of a certain age stopping me on the street to tell me about their sex lives, which I really enjoyed."

When she comes across a project she loves, as with Fleishman, she reaches out to let the creators know. The first season of Hulu's Castle Rock moved her to email cocreator Sam Shaw, a writer on Masters of Sex, to tell him she was a huge fan. "I'll assume that's what led to the next season coming my way." The horror series was populated with characters from Stephen King's oeuvre; for season two she was tapped to play psychopathic nurse Annie Wilkes.

That role was first played to an Oscar win by Kathy Bates in the 1990 film Misery, which almost deterred Caplan. "But since somebody's choosing to believe that I can pull that off, well before I believe that myself, I'll swing the bat." Playing Annie, in turn, gave her the courage to take on the role Glenn Close embodied so memorably in the original Fatal Attraction feature. "Annie Wilkes loomed as large in my brain as Alex Forrest did."

Fatal Attraction showrunner Alexandra Cunningham, who developed the series with Kevin J. Hynes, first met Caplan six years ago. Caplan, a fan of Cunningham's series Dirty John, asked if they could meet up for lunch, which turned into a four-hour chat. "She's genuine and she's smart and she's funny and she's interested and she's lively, and she's got great stories, but she wants to hear your stories, and that really sticks with you," Cunningham says. "When somebody who's really good at acting is also just the greatest hang, I'm immediately like, selfishly, 'I've got to figure out how I can capitalize on this.'"

When Paramount reached out years later with the concept of reimagining Fatal Attraction, Cunningham thought the role of Alex would be perfect for Caplan. "She was always in the back of my mind, but you've got to come correct to Lizzy. It's got to be something that really checks a lot of boxes. This is a person that anybody would kill to work with, even if they don't know how great she is to be around." She had no doubt Caplan could take on the iconic part and make it her own. "The more Lizzy does, the more she can do. I believe nothing more fervently than that."

Updating the 1987 erotic thriller meant reimagining Alex. Despite Close's great efforts to portray her as a deeply complex woman who suffered from mental illness, the film made her much more malevolent; the ending was reshot to suit test audiences' desire for vengeance. Close has been open about her regret with how the role and outcome were changed, and Cunningham was determined to rectify that in the series.

Caplan was fully on board. "We were instantly on the same page about the kind of story we were setting out to tell," Caplan says, adding she still loves the film. But watching it, "I feel an unbelievable amount of compassion for Alex. All of the work Glenn Close did is right there on the screen, and Alex deserved the ending that Glenn Close wanted her to have; it was just a different time."

That compassion informs her performance. "It's not my job description to label somebody evil or crazy. It's my job to figure out how to make this person feel like the decisions she is making are the only sane decisions — that everybody else is crazy." The series reveals a shift not entirely unlike Fleishman's. We initially see the affair and its repercussions from Dan's perspective (as played by Joshua Jackson). As we pivot to Alex's version of events, the reframing is eye-popping.

For all the reassessing, Caplan notes that the film was a wild ride, "So this should also feel fun and scary." And Jackson (The Affair) was the perfect partner. "I adore Josh. I'm so happy that it was him," she says. "Both of us have done shows with a lot of sex and nudity and we know how to navigate that without it being weird, and find the humor, which is everything when you have to shoot scenes like that." Their fight scenes were another story. "I felt far more terrified and vulnerable with those, and they were horrible to shoot, but I always felt really safe with Josh." The two also bonded over being new parents.

Speaking by phone from London, Jackson is heartened to hear of Caplan's trust in him. "We had some deeply uncomfortable days, and to allow yourself as a woman and a stranger to be that vulnerable to a man, and being excellent all the time, I'm just super impressed with her," he says. Those scenes were so painful, he adds, "There were definitely some nights when I went home and it took some time to shake off what we were putting on camera," a feeling exacerbated by being away from his family for the shoot.

Caplan used to have a hard time letting go of her characters, but since having her baby, she says, "It was weirdly easy to slip into that mindset while at work and very easy to slip out of it when we were finished. That made doing Fatal Attraction a very different experience than it would have been had I done it years ago."

She has no projects ahead of her at the moment, beyond flying back to London in a few weeks. "I'm just chillin'."

Brodesser-Akner would be happy to remedy that. "Lizzy told me about having lunch with another producer, and I wanted to throw myself on her like a grenade and say, 'No, stay with me!' I want her to enact everything I write for the rest of my life." Caplan's portrayal of Libby, the apparent supporting role that turns out to be the center of the story, still astonishes her.

"Lizzy figured out how to slow her roll and then pull it out in the end," Brodesser-Akner says. "I've been to a lot of opera, and I have not seen anyone pull off an aria like she did." But that's Caplan's forte — a star in stealth mode.

#Lizzy Caplan #Interview #Emmys 2023 #75th emmy awards

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ao3wasntenough · 5 days

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I think the reason why they no want recast shia as Sam it's well because in that time Hollywood have reputation that not to recast main characters, if they recast main characters it will taint the reputation.

But of course they can make excuse that Sam doing plastic surgery to hide himself (that actually can be good reason why sam still in tf but different face, seriously it's lame but still good reason) but I think other reason that because the energy, I meant when shia playing Sam he have this energy why viewers like hate him but viewers love him too and can't never forget about him.

So I think they not recast Sam because they fear recast actor can't bring Sam energy like shia did, I meant viewers will comments like "who the hell this is? This is not my Sam. Bring shia back". So that is why they make new character

If Sam got recast who do you think that for to playing the role?

I’m actually terrible at picking actors 😭😭 I just accept what I’ve given or generate a filter in my head of the character I’m watching

However I’ve taken lost of records from those around me, and unanimously Dylan o’Brien.

Dylan o’Brien is the most iconic actor to play the unassuming guy who gets dragged into shit and obviously is having a mental breakdown while trying to keep it together.

But not to just be one and done here’s a list I’ve got, their not perfect, unless I was just told this is Sam now,

I feel like their tooo perfect, to pretty looking I need to see them sweaty and panicked and looking like they just want to go home

- Tyler posey

-David or Oscar casas

-Grant Gustin

-Ben platt ( I think he’s too friendly looking)

- Jack quaid (needs thicker eyebrows)

- Jharrel Jerome

- Nicholas Galitzine

- justice smith

Other mention I hate for no reason

- jesse Eisenberg

-Micheal cera

#transformers #transformers bayverse #sam witwicky #I feel like people on this list would hate to be here #but this is my place to play god #🧂

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mediawhorefics · 1 year

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Do you have any hot tales about tsn?

tsn hot takes ??? gosh, idk if they're hot takes but i have opinions?

i'm sorry to rpf on main but 'andrew garfield was in love with jesse eisenberg' is a hilll i'm going to die on.

similarly, andrew garfield played eduado as in love with mark and watching the movie through that lens enriches the whole experience. fight me.

tsn deserved to win best picture in 2011. out of all the nominees that year, it's the one that has only gained relevance as time passes and had something to say about our culture, both back then and right now. i think it's almost more relevant now than back then. its social commentary on the way we live our lives on the internet is pretty spot on. i mean 'the internet is written in ink'. give me one line better from another movie that year. we lived on farms then we lived in cities and now we're gonna live on the internet?? damn.

this isnt an opinion, more like an observation? back in 2010, people complained about the harsh depiction of zuck but he's worked so hard to prove the movie not only right but also now it almost reads as mild compared to who that guy actually is. it's fascinating in terms of tsn's cultural legacy. where's that one quote from that article about tsn turning 10 yo? the movie couldn't predict what facebook would turn into (in terms of misinformation and manipulation of information) but it understood that the desire to tear down the establishment is not the same as the wish to build something better in its place? anyways, that.

it has one of the greatest soundtracks ever. i don't think any movie has topped it since. that opening sequence with hand covers bruise? holy shit.

i always wonder if it does enough to condemn the elitist misogynistic culture of those rich harvard guys/those rich tech guys. like... i always joke that it's one of my 'ooops the filmmakers forgot women were people' favourite films (i have a few of those) but at the same time, it feels very pointed and purposeful in its depiction. and we know that fincher has a history of exploring toxic masculinity as a theme without explicitly condemning it and trusting his audience to get the message. which, honey, men are not smart. i mean, we get the iconic erica moment telling us from the start 'it'll be because you're an asshole' and then the movie proceeds to prove that to us. but is that enough? is the movie sexist or is the character? or both? i don't know i kinda go back and forth on this. again not a take, just thoughts.

i read this one letterboxd review like a year ago that said something along the line of: best movie of all time they have him tell us ' i don't want friends' in the first eight minutes and it blew my fucking mind. they literally tell us in the first eight minutes, aaron sorkin i just want to talk.

i love him and would kill for him, but eduardo telling mark 'i was your only friend you had one friend' was not only untrue but kinda manipulative. not that mark didn't deserve it.

high key this is one of the most quotable movies of all time. did you know i sent forty-seven texts???

there are whole worlds of unsaid things in the 'you have no idea what that's going to mean to my father' 'sure i do' i am OBSESSED with their relationship.

eduardo's bitchy 'is he?' when sean says he's wired in before the laptop smash is just as, if not more, iconic than the rest of the speech.

andrew was robbed of both a nomination and an oscar for this performance. i stand by it.

2011 golden globes jesse eisenberg dragging andrew gafield out of his chair top awards moment of all time. you had to be there.

people will bitch about tsn rpf and people writing fic about mark zuckerberg but where would we (tumblr) be as a society without jesse and andrew's 'you didn't know me at 13' 'i really wish i had'. where would your pining web-weaving fandom posts be without mr garfield's embarrassingly public crush on his facebook movie co star? check and mate.

genuinely think it would have solved a lot of their problems if mark and eduardo had fucked. or it would have created other different problems. either way, a win.

we all know it should have ended with mark sending eduardo a friend request. literally the only flaw in this film.

i honestly think the tsn press tour is on like... lotr bts footage level in terms of ~as enjoyable if not more than the original film. and i don't say this lightly. it's one of the highest praise i've got.

i'm a basic bitch but every single scene of mark defending eduardo post-betrayal is like.... [SCREAM]

it IS the greatest divorce movie of our time. marriage story fucking wishes mate.

tsn is 100% a girl movie. like red flag for men green flag for women (& gnc people) kind of stuff.

it's on par with all of shakespeare's best tragedies. for me.

lmao when i read this ask i thought damn i won't have much to say and now i have to stop myself because my food is ready and i'm starting. anyways this is barely scratching the surface. i might come back for a part two?

#about me #tsn #im ... sorry anon

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greensparty · 22 days

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Movie Reviews: Sasquatch Sunset / Challengers

This week I got to review a knockout...and a letdown.

Sasquatch Sunset

movie poster

I'm just going to do a brief mini-review of this one. When I heard there was a sasquatch movie that starred Jesse Eisenberg and Riley Keough, both great actors, I was intrigued. When I saw the movie Sasquatch Sunset about a sasquatch family over the course of a year with no dialogue but tons of sound effects and scatological humor, I was bored out of my mind. It could have been anyone under that costume and makeup. It felt like a bizarre stoner student film that plays well with an audience at midnight based on the audience making fun of it. I wanted to like this and I was highly disappointed.

For info on Sasquatch Sunset

2 out of 5 stars

Challengers

Every sport has it's official movie, the one that is consider to be the best [insert sport here] movie of all time, i.e. for hockey it's Slap Shot, for basketball it's Hoosiers, etc. But there really hasn't been an official tennis movie. Wimbledon? Not really. I consider the best tennis movie until now to be The Squid and the Whale because the opening scene of the family playing tennis told you everything you needed to know about the family through their playing in that game. But now Luca Guadagnino has made the best tennis movie of all time with Challengers. What got my attention about this movie wasn't the director of Call Me By Your Name or the Suspiria. Or the star being It Actress of the moment Zendaya. It was that when they were filming it in Massachusetts in 2022, they filmed a key tennis location at Wedgewood, a private tennis and swim club in Bedford, MA. I grew up in Bedford so the fact that a big Hollywood movie was filming there got my attention. When I was 10, a friend whose family were members of Wedgewood invited me to go swimming with them. Can't believe that same place was now a key location for a tennis tournament. But I digress!

The film is about a love triangle set in the world of tennis over the course of thirteen years. We start in 2019 at a regional tennis tournament where Tashi (Zendaya) is watching her husband Art (Mike Faist of the 2021 West Side Story remake) compete against Patrick (Josh O'Connor of The Crown). Back in 2006 Art and Patrick were best friends. After a tournament they meet Tashi who was a tennis prodigy at the time. Both guys are attracted to her. She has a relationship with Patrick and later is married to Art, who she is now coaching. That's about all I can say without getting into plot spoilers.

actual movie poster and the photo booth poster where Zendaya is watching me!

As intense as the tennis scenes are, the genius in this movie is that it's really about the love triangle and these three characters. They each have their own motives towards the others, what they want and how they want the other(s) to go along with that agenda. It's not just two guys lusting after an attractive woman, it's also two guys manipulating each other at various times in their life. But it's all in the eyes, especially Zendaya, who is keeping a poker face most of the time. And it's sexy as hell without a single sex scene in the entire movie. Serious credit goes to Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross's score, which is their best film score since Gone Girl! Without getting into spoilers, the ambiguous ending is going to piss off some viewers. I didn't mind it as it was a film more about the journey and not so much the ending. At over 2 hours and 11 minutes it is a little longer than it needs to be. But let's just celebrate the return of the sexy grow-up movie which has been away for a while from Hollywood!

for info on Challengers

3.5 out of 5 stars

#sasquatch sunset #david zellner #nathan zellner #challengers #luca guadagnino #trent reznor #atticus ross #movie reviews #film geek

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tibby · 9 months

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Hi Tibby! I saw your post that Casey McQuiston was originally a prolific fanfic writer of AG/JE rpf. I had heard that they were a prolific rpf writer…but for a different fandom. More specifically Harry/Louis from 1D. And that they were one of the mysterious authors of the legendary These Inconvenient Fireworks.

I find it interesting that it’s a well known rumor that they wrote rpf, but there are differing details about which fandoms they wrote for. Though in this case, they heyday of the social network fandom was ~2010 (afaik) and 1D fanfiction peaked closer to 2014 (though TIF was written in 2012). It’s definitely possible they wrote for both.

Just curious about your thoughts on the matter 😏

hi ariel! i have never been involved in the 1d fandom, so i can't say if i know anything about the (in)famous fics within it. my knowledge begins and ends with the after films being based on harry styles/oc rpf. so i cannot offer any answer there.

i WILL also say that i cannot say with any certainty that rwrb is in fact jesse eisenberg/andrew garfield fanfiction. i just know that casey mcquiston was a prolific tsn writer back in the day, and the american guy and british guy falling in love is a very funny coincidence to me. and also that reporter guy had STRONG justin timberlake energies. honestly i've spent enough time in tsn fandom to pick up on which character was meant to represent who, but for all i know the same can be said for 1d fic or whatever.

i've also had people in the tags of that post claim that rwrb was based on a merlic fic, so who knows for sure. i personally don't think that the story itself was originally fic, but that casey was simply inspired by. certain actors or characters when writing their leads.

anyway. i didn't expect my posts to get any kind of attention outside of my immediate mutual circle, which is primarily compromised of people i know and many of whom already had the rpf knowledge. i just find the whole thing funny, and as a tsn stannie it's just something i like bringing up because it makes me laugh. i don't particularly care about fic writers becoming authors or rpf being made into movies, because. well. shit happens, it makes money, tsn is virtually rpf and one of my favourite movies of all time. there are much better hills to die on.

i am just of the opinion that if rpf/fanfic IS going to continue to be made into movies then they need to commit to the bit. cast the actual person it was based on. if that meant we needed jesse and andrew, or harry and louis, or the two guys from merlin to be the rwrb leads...then so be it. we all know it's fanfiction and possibly rpf anyway. why not take it all the way?

#ask #arielfabulous

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jesse-eisenberg-interview · 1 year

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Jesse Eisenberg's Midlife Crisis Awaits

The Fleishman Is in Trouble star talks marriage, gender roles, and that unexpected ending.

At the beginning of Fleishman Is in Trouble, the show is seemingly about a guy getting through a divorce. There's the introduction to dating apps; the reconnection with old friends; the flashbacks of misery. But as you continue watching, it becomes clear this is not a divorce show. Toby Fleishman, a 41-year-old Jewish hepatologist, is also having a midlife crisis. How the hell did he get here? And why him?

His anxiety is palpable. The furrowed eyebrows, excessive blinking, and longing stares are all it takes for viewers to side with a man whose dream of a happy marriage and family is no more. When producers suggested that Jesse Eisenberg play the lead role of Toby, a lightbulb went off for Taffy Brodesser-Akner, who wrote the New York Times bestselling novel that inspired the series and serves as its showrunner and executive producer. It was Eisenberg or bust. “Once it was him in our hearts, anyone else would have been a letdown,” Brodesser-Akner tells Men’s Health. “He is, I believe, the most gifted actor of his generation.”

A gifted actor who’s also a “rare bird,” according to Brodesser-Akner. Rare in the sense for someone to be quick and smart and funny and warm without succumbing to the cynicism that usually breeds from his kind of intelligence (“I’m cynical, it’s just directed inward,” Eisenberg jokes). Rare in the sense that when he calls me directly for this interview in the midst of a seven-hour road trip with his family, he mentions my area code and asks if I’m in Boca Raton (close), then proceeds to ask me questions about my hometown and tell me he has a cousin who went to high school nearby.

Before Eisenberg signed on to the show, that same inquisitiveness led him to buy Brodesser-Akner’s novel on iBooks (yes, iBooks) when he “heard something amazing about it.” But then he heard that Brodesser-Akner was a culture writer and known for profiling celebrities à la Tom Hanks, Bradley Cooper, and Gwyneth Paltrow (“The thing I avoid reading about most in life”). He thought that was what the book was about, so he didn't open it. Cautious curiosity, after all. It wasn’t until he found out Fleishman was being adapted for television and they wanted him for the role that he finally opened it. “Then I read it and devoured it like everybody else in New York at the time and I'm now all caught up.”

Upon Fleishman's eighth and final episode, the FX limited series (currently streaming on Hulu) has an 83 percent rating on Rotten Tomatoes, thanks to its prolific writing and ensemble cast of Eisenberg, Claire Danes, Lizzy Caplan, and Adam Brody. It’s proven to be a masterclass in perspective-shifting storytelling, while also exploring themes of gender, class, desire, and ambition. You'll relate to "the quiet part out loud" moments—even if you’ve never been married or have no plans to be. As the series comes to a close, Men’s Health caught up with Eisenberg to discuss what it was like living in Toby's world, why he refuses to watch himself on-screen, and the fate of Toby and Rachel.

Men's Health: What initially attracted you to the role of Toby?

Jesse Eisenberg: Well, it's a guy who was a little older than me going through what, for him, felt like the end of the world, which is, as an actor, what you want because what you learn in drama school is to live in high stakes. But what I really just loved about the show was that it also took a step back and put his problems in perspective, both from a place of gender that we as an audience are expected to feel a male sympathy that is perhaps not fully earned. And then also just from a place of basically viewing his great fortune in a pretty culturally-aware context. He talks about feeling like he's treated like a poor person, and yet we as readers or as an audience for the show know that he's in a very privileged bubble. So there's a self-awareness to the show while at the same time providing me, an actor, with very high stakes.

I read that you had an anxiety disorder growing up. I’m curious to know if and how you were able to draw from this experience while portraying Toby’s anxiety on screen?

Anytime you're acting in anything, you're typically dealing with some kind of emotional stress. That's just the nature of drama and characters. Actually, I thought this character is about a thousand times more confident and self-actualized than I am. In fact, I would often try to make these little aside jokes in the way I, Jesse, would in my own life to cope with an uncomfortable situation. And Taffy [Brodesser-Akner], who wrote the book and the character, told me he's not like that. He doesn't have the same kind of immediate anxiety and need for coping like I do.

So often eating disorders portrayed on-screen are reserved for female characters. Talk to me about the significance of depicting Toby’s eating disorder and what that process was like?

That was really interesting for me. My relationship to eating disorders is that I had gone to many Overeaters Anonymous meetings with somebody who's close to me for years. You learn very quickly that eating disorders are not just reserved for women, so I was aware of that. Then my other relationship to eating disorders comes from this movie that I did just prior to filming Fleishman Is in Trouble. A month before we started filming, I was playing an amateur bodybuilder who basically force-feeds himself all day. I had spent a year training for the movie with a personal trainer and a dietician to try to gain a lot of weight and muscle. I had spent that year, in terms of my relationship with food, just very frustrated because it's very difficult for me to gain weight. Then the movie ended and I shifted to playing this character who was restricting [with food], so the exact opposite. It was interesting to play this character after thinking about food in a very stressful way for a year.

My relationship to food is a relatively healthy one now. When I'm working I'm very careful about what I eat, but only because I don't want to change my energy level during the day. You shoot for 12 or 14 hours a day, you want to maintain that consistent level of energy. So I don't eat sugar, and I have a very limited amount of caffeine that I proportion out throughout the day.

People have #thoughts on Toby’s dating life (Twitter is mainly just in awe that a nebbish-y, 40-something Jewish man is in his sexual prime). What was it like filming the sex scenes? You were actually nude for one of them, right?

[I'm] working on this show about gender politics—a show which tries to upend thoughts we have about male sympathy—and yet I had to do these sex scenes where the women were definitely going to be naked and it was questionable as to whether I was going to be. I spoke to Taffy and she said, “This is what we're thinking. Are you okay with also being naked?” And my first thought was, let me just ask my wife because I don't have an immediate thought or answer that feels exactly right to me. I presented the situation to my wife and she had one question. She said, “Are the women going to be naked?” I said, “Yes.” And then she said, “Well, then of course you have to.” And I thought, not only is she right, but that's what makes sense for a show about gender politics, that the show doesn't just objectify women.

Speaking of sex and dating, I know you don’t use social media, but have you used dating apps before or were you essentially as clueless as Toby?

In terms of the character's dating life, it's not something that I ever experienced or know about in terms of going online and combing through the dating industry. I thought [it] could not be real when I read about it. And then in talking to people about this show before filming it, they started opening up to me about their dating lives. It was straight women showing me basically dozens and dozens of pictures of men in front of yachts that I'm sure they don't own or go on, and it floored me. I'm a person who doesn't really love options, and to me it would just seem overwhelming.

Fast forward to episode seven, where Claire Danes gives this masterful performance of Rachel’s nervous breakdown. Do you remember watching that episode for the first time? If so, what were your thoughts?

I have not seen a frame of the show. I can’t look at myself. But I read it, obviously, and we did a table reading of it, so I know everything that happens in it.

Is that unique to Fleishman or all of your work?

Oh no, I don't watch myself, ever. I mean, I saw the commercials. The way I can compare my feelings about it is just like, if you go on a trip and then you come back with 100 pictures, you're most likely going to delete 90 of them because you think you look weird. And that's pretty much how I feel about watching myself. I think 90 percent of it is horrible and 10 percent is something I'm happy with. It’s just an excruciating experience to watch myself. But I know that episode well and I loved it and I thought it was just the best.

That episode was of course the first time we learned of the divorce from Rachel’s perspective. What is the subtle messaging around misogyny and feminism that you think people may miss while watching the series?

It's one of these great things that happens in drama where you bring an audience into a story, and then flip the story on its head, and then the audience realizes they've been complicit with something that they now regret. So in the case of this show, the audience is most likely on Toby's side. From his perspective, Rachel looks driven by avarice and ambition, and she seems like a negligent mom and an uninterested wife. That episode reminds the audience of something they probably know, but forgot, which is that every story has two sides. That every person has their own way of looking at something that's just as valid as their adversary. It turns the show from a show that's entertaining into a show that’s profound and instructive.

I loved this line from one of the episodes: “To survive is to evolve, to evolve is to move forward, and to move forward is to recover.” Was there a specific line or scene that resonated with you most?

Oh yes, yes, yes. The scene that resonated with me the most was in episode six, where I go to these two parties. One is a party of Rachel's friends at our new fancy apartment, and the other is a party [with] my old friends. I thought it was amazing in so many ways. On the one hand, it showed the way a character can live in these two lives and accidentally have found himself in a life that is completely unsatisfying to him. I think that could be felt universally, which is just the idea that through making decisions that go one percent in a certain direction every day, you wind up 100 percent in a completely different direction than you had planned.

And then the other thing I think it shows so well are these two sides of New York City that I am a part of. Because I'm in the arts, I'm really part of what I would think of as a more bohemian creative scene. And yet, because I am also in mass entertainment, I find myself also in these very expensive rooms and feel obviously very out of place. But these two things really do exist side by side. And oftentimes there's an overlap of people who will be in both worlds, and I thought that episode captured that so beautifully.

In that final scene, what happens with Rachel and Toby? Does he go back to her? Yell at her to oblivion?

Yeah, I don't know. I'm reminded there was...in the end of the book, where the wife comes back and...I'm so sad it gets me choked up. She comes back to him and she's like, "It's me. It's just me." Basically, somebody you have a history with almost irrespective of the hell you've put each other through, that history still means something. And the question is, what does it mean? Does it mean that there's enough lingering feeling to warrant trying again? Or does it mean that there's so much resentment that the relationship will never be solved?

So, does the show reject marriage or accept it? Considering all three friends ultimately either enter or return to marriage, what does that say about the institution of marriage? Is the lesson simply that it’s flawed? Fleeting?

I think there's a line in the show that "marriage is like democracy. It's the worst form, except for all the others." I guess the thesis of the show is that if we're going to live in this world with these norms, marriage can work and be a really important way to live. But I don't know, obviously for a lot of people it doesn't work. So I don't know if the show is making a blanket statement, but at least for these specific characters it feels right.

You are, from what I understand, a happily married man. After filming this series, does any part of you now question the institution of marriage and its potential consequences?

When you're acting in something, it allows you to live out, in a protected way, the alternate lives that your character is living. So with this I got to, in a safe way, live out the life of what it's like to date on these apps and think about that. It became very quickly unappealing to me. Similarly, living out the life of having a marriage that dissolves and not only dissolves, but dissolves with such a rancor and bitterness...that also is not appealing to me. Claire and I, as actors, got to live out that experience and then go home to our partners with whom we are happily married, and realize that we are lucky. This is something we both discussed—that we both felt lucky at the end of the day that we went home to relationships that were not fraught with the same anger and resentment.

What can other men watching this show learn from Toby, especially those who are currently going through a midlife crisis?

Toby is a guy who prizes, above all else, stability. So to see somebody who has prized and held on to stability over everything else go through a very shaky time is probably cathartic for a lot of people. Because you realize that this kind of instability doesn't just happen to people who are irresponsible. For a lot of people, when they end up going through a chaotic experience, they often assume it couldn't have happened to them. Toby is the last person who ever expected it to happen to him.

Have you gone through a midlife crisis yet?

I think I did when I was 13 because I was very mature. When I was young, [I was] just questioning everything. But I guess you can't call that a midlife crisis because it didn't have to do with age and thinking life was behind me. So no, I guess not.

You’re one of the lucky ones.

Well, there’s still time.

SOURCE

#jesse eisenberg #2022 #fleishman is in trouble

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