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lovely-necromancy · 3 years

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A Cure for Insomnia CH 1.

This is a reader insert I originally started posting on AO3. I’m cross posting here because I know some of the fandom still lives here.

Quick Disclaimer:

This is a fic I'm writing for my own comfort.

I was inspired by RaeBees (you can check out their works over on Quotev and AO3), and how they characterize the "proxies". Having always seen the characters different than most of the fandom I've interacted with I never really shared my thoughts until now. This work is only placed in the Creepypasta tag so it reaches its demographic. However, I am fully aware of the fact that no main character is considered a Pasta.

It may also appear to lean more Toby X Protag in the beginning but end goal is protag with all three, and Brian and Tim already in a relationship. How I picture it now is a slowburn but Toby and Protag will be in a friends with benefits relationship before either has any feelings, so I think that counts. Some may be confused by the asexual protag tag but it'll be explained in story, as an Ace myself I get frustrated with media that only show one version and say it goes for us all. That being said I don't represent the whole Ace community but I hope to provide a bit more representation for some others out there.

Protag will be depicted as agender, and will have a few tics that stem from their Autism. Again I don't speak for any others with Autism but I hope to provide some representation for those in similar positions.

Tags will be updated as the story progresses. Canon-Typical violence and mental health issues are to be expected if you feel uncomfortable with those aspects I advise you to not engage. This story will also have a lot of NSFW themes and scenes so I highly discourage anyone under the age of 18 from viewing this work. You will get warnings on chapters with NSFW and I will make it skippable as well.

I'm also very nitpicky and gave the main characters birthdays just because it irritates me when it gets mentioned once and you have to do the math or imagine your own conversation when a birthday was too close to a character's.

Tim January 1st, home state Alabama

Toby April 28th, home state Virginia (saw this years ago no clue if it's accurate)

Protag May 13th, home state Virginia

Brian May 23rd, home state Alabama

Connor the service dog July 18th, home state Kentucky

I've referred to Protag as Protag here but in story they're referred to as YN.

Everything felt impossibly dull; your senses, the dark room you're currently in, the noise coming from the fan just to the left of the bed on which you laid. Turning to the window beside your head you stare out into that weird midnight summer sky. More of a gray than a true dark blue night, cast in an orange glow that made the night seem closer to day than it truly was. While the time was just half past twelve, you felt it may have been more accurate to say it was closer to four in the morning.

You're exhausted but that true sort of exhaustion where whatever energy you have left buzzes all around. It consumes your entire being, dances between being deafeningly loud in your ears to giving you twitches in your legs. You'd laid down hours ago thinking you'd be tired enough to sleep once your tics started to spasm in closer intervals, but to no avail were you able to rest. That buzzing preventing you from dreamland. Maybe the hum of your body was right, you didn't really need to sleep, you just wanted it to feel normal.

Knowing the battle had already been lost you push yourself off the bed and grab a pair of shorts off the floor. Slipping them on you contemplate your options for the night. Going into town was out since it was Sunday...well Monday now, but there would be nothing but bars open and you were never one for drinking. And as fun as a drive sounds right now, you feel the buzzing in your bones grow stronger, you need to move. A late night hike should keep you occupied, with it being so quiet and the middle of the night you wouldn't even have to take your headphones to cancel out the sounds of other people, you aren't likely to run into many people tonight.

Deciding on a hike you grab a mask and car keys and make your way to your yellow Kia Soul. A going away present from your parents that they gave you the moment you got your driver's license after your 24th birthday. Having anxiety throughout your life you'd never been in the head space to start driving till later on, and while you still don't enjoy driving you are pretty good at it even with your “late” start. Surfing through radio stations as you let the car warm up you find your latest obsession, it's a conspiracy theory podcast that someone in Kepler managed to blast through the limited air ways of the town. Impressive considering Kepler was in a radio quiet zone and even cell phones couldn't work in the small town, luckily you lived just outside of the zone so you could send texts and call your parents every weekend.

It seemed today's episode was a rerun, Mothman: Murderer, Man, or Myth. It was actually one of your favorites, the paranormal stories tended to be more entertaining than hearing about how a man could murder sixteen people while working as a cop ruining evidence to lead the others off his trail. Humans could be more vial and cruel than any little gray alien from the future or tall Fresno Nightcrawler could ever be. And they weren't as entertaining to hear about, nor were their exploits as impressive. You could always see patterns, either connecting clues first or finding connections no one else saw, it was never hard to tell where a certain case would lead so you'd always end up disappointed in humanity when they overlooked such obvious clues. Though that often led you down a path of deep diving for information to see just how obvious it was, more often than not you'd find that the most logical conclusion was shady public officers. After investigating so many cold cases you're sure if you're ever in trouble you'll never involve the police, in the end they'd probably just ignore you and rule your case closed if anything ever did happen to you.

'I'd haunt them if they did.' You decide and you shift gears and begin driving to the Monongahela National Forest, as the timeline of Mothman sightings and events play out before for your ears.

Instead of going through town and possibly loosing the signal of the show, you drive on the old dirt road that runs along the very edge of the town, partially covered in trees. This over grown road is the main reason Kepler doesn't see many visitors, the second someone makes their way onto it coming off the interstate they floor it until they see civilization. Over the few months you've been here you've nearly been run right off the road by spooked tourists, trying to escape whatever ghouls their wild imaginations created. The only real thing on this road was a mini mart gas station, and even though it was shady as hell the cashier didn't bug you too much when you came in in the dead of night. Plus they had a cat, how could you not stop in and say hi to little ole Magnolia?

Speaking of which you should probably get a drink for your hike, you could already feel your throat drying out. Turning into the parking lot you're happy to see no other cars around, putting your face mask on you make your way inside. As usual the store is dead at this time, and Ronnie is manning the desk. What's unusual is the man also behind the counter, he has dark brown hair that he's tied into a small and low ponytail, thick sideburns frame his face. You immediately take note of the slight imperfections of his face, most would see the slit in his eyebrow as following the current trend or even just a genetic thing, but you can see the slightly off color of a healed scar that starts just above his eyebrow and ends mid eyelid, he has a few smaller discolorations on his crooked nose, you'd guess he's had it broken at least twice.

Briefly taking a glance to his brown eyes before looking away, today is not an eye contact day. Nodding in their directions, the best acknowledgment you can give right now, you make your way to the freezers. From the freezer section you can hear Ronnie “explain” you.

“That's YN, a regular mainly at night though. A bit skittish and rarely ever says more than 'thanks have a nice day'” Even though she's whispering you can hear everything. Including the high octave her voice takes to mimic you, it feels more like mocking.

If being mocked hadn't already put you on edge the eyes boring into you have. The eyes may not be roaming over your body but the icky crawling of your skin sure makes it feel that way. The feeling of being put under a microscope has always made you sick, the stares, the leers and sneers, and the judgment just makes you want to implode on the spot. Cease existence, be swallowed into the abyss. You're about to set yourself into an anxiety attack with all these thoughts.

'Mask, mask, mask' you repeat over and over in your head, it's the only thing you can focus on. You are wearing a mask, there is one thing they can't perceive, the face is the most important for humans to perceive, your mask protects you.

Without looking you pull a water bottle from the cooler. You don't think you like this brand but the sports mouth makes up for it, and you can't focus enough to grab another. As the imaginary spiders crawl their way under your skin and your breath hitches you make your way over to the counter head down, never looking up at the employees beyond the counter. Your vision is blurring in time with the beating of your heart, you can't tell if it's due to nerves or from being up for five days in a row.

“Hey YN, how're you?” Ronnie asks, her tone is different from the past times you've been in. It's higher and has a lilt in it that you'd expect from a teasing friend. But Ronnie isn't a friend and has never spoken to you like this, you hate it. You nod to politely move on with the process, between the crawling of your skin and the buzzing underneath it you feel sick. And you're now very aware of the existence of your eyelids, you try to focus on ignoring that awareness. You need to move.

“Hmm, that's good. Anyway this is Tim! He's just started so go easy on him.” you hear the sound of a hand hitting fabric and assume she's patted Tim's shoulder as she introduced Tim to you. Why was she doing this, what purpose could introducing you two have? You nod again, was anyone going to ring you out?

“Hi, this all?” a deep voice asked, it isn't extremely deep more of a standard baritone that has a slight raspy quality, probably a reformed smoker. You don't smell cigarettes currently so he could've quit after years. Unfortunately despite your efforts to stave them off your blinking tics emerge. Making it difficult to keep your eyes open for longer than a nano second.

Startled and ticcing you look up and catch his eyes, you see pity in them, before casting your glance back to the counter. You can never tell what's worse people seeing you as weird or seeing you as something needing to be fixed. Nodding again, Tim tells you the total; a dollar fifty eight, and you hand him two dollars from your wallet.

Tim doesn't ask if you want the receipt or a bag, he prints out the receipt and hands you your change. The change goes immediately into the cat food fund for Magnolia. She got diagnosed with diabetes about a month ago and having worked in shelters and pet stores you know just how expensive her prescription food is. After folding the receipt into your wallet, Tim gently slides the water bottle over to you.

“Have a good night.” he says it so low and gentle, as if he thinks you'll shatter in front of him. As kind as the gesture seems, you aren't that fragile...or maybe you are if you have to keep repeating 'mask' over and over in your head to ground yourself. With a final nod you turn and make your way to the door, and just as you open it you hear Ronnie call out.

“Awwww, c'mon YN at least say 'Hi' to Tim.” You really don't like how she squeaked out 'hi'.

Taking a deep breath you prepare yourself, you'll show them both you can do this simple task. Even if you can't stop blinking long enough to see straight. Once you've steadied yourself you turn and look at Tim. He's sending you a look that says 'You don't have to' all that's missing is a slow head shake to complete his unease with this “peer pressure”.

But you can do this you can say 'Hi, Tim.' Two words super simple, nothing complex like 'Hi, Tim, nice to meet you.' and so much better than the option of your next meeting saying 'Hi, Tim. Sorry for spazzing out the other night.'. Yup you can do this just breathe, you open your mouth and...and you've forgotten what to say. Looking like a deer in headlights, well at least the tics stopped, you say the first thing that pops in.

“Mask.” You've said it loud and clear both cashiers heard you.

Tim stares with wide eyes and you see Ronnie failing to hide her laughter. Out of all the ways this could've gone this was probably the best outcome for her. The blinking has started up again, this time growing more frequent. You can't even hold your eyes open, to the two cashiers it must look like you're in pain or crying. And while you want to die of embarrassment, crying is a bit of an extreme for you.

So with red face and the inability to see you leave through the door, and try to make your way back to your car. Once in you lock the doors, switch the car on, and rest your head on the steering wheel. Out of every way this stop could've gone, being perceived by a new comer and Ronnie was not what you expected. While this hadn't been the worst five minutes or so of your life, it definitely would be another thing keeping you up at night for the next twenty years.

Calming down in the cool quiet dark of your car your slowly brought back to the world by the beginning of a new episode. This one talking about the Tailypo legend. A favorite story of yours from when you were a kid living on the coast of Virginia. So with yet another deep breath and the wave of nostalgia, you pull out of the parking lot and slowly coast down the old dirt road. Heading yet again for the Monongahela forest.

It's nearly two in the morning when you roll up to see an RV parked by the forgotten entrance of the park. It isn't surprising at all to find an RV out here since the Monongahela Forest is one of the most beautiful parks you've ever been to. You also don't think anything of them being parked by this unused entrance because you use it all the time since finding it accidentally. Figuring they just wanted to camp and be left to their own devices rather than use the RV sites and be bothered with other campers here for the summer.

Climbing out of your car you notice the RV isn't new by any means but it isn't a total rust bucket either, looks like it's been passed around throughout the years. There isn't anything to suggest it's been here a while, nothing left set up outside, must have just gotten into town then. You do happen to notice dog tracks around the sandy dirt you've parked in, good to know they have a dog before you slammed your car door. Closing the door gently behind you so you don't startle a pup and wake up it's owner or owners, you make your way through the woods. No real direction in mind, with no real thought in your head. Just the thought of moving and to keep on moving.

You could walk the same path every time you came through and always find something different. In fact that's exactly what happens, you're almost positive that you've deepened the imprint of the path just from walking through several times a week. Following the same winding path you usually do, climbing over the fallen tree, and through a scattering of blueberry thicket's you find yourself on the edge of one of the forest's many streams. It's your favorite spot in the forest so far, and about as far as you've gotten considering these hikes of yours take place during the dead of night.

The wind picks up and sends a chill through you, taking that as a sign you slide down to sit by the stream. Vans placed to your side as you sink your feet into the cool water. It's peaceful out here, so cool, and quiet, save for the slight noises the stream makes, various bubbling and drips. You try to think on things like your recent move, your job, the embarrassing 'mask' incident, just life in general. But you can't seem to form a single thought, this happens a lot, you've recently been conscious of the fact that you've been running on auto pilot for the past two months, hell a lot longer than that. You think everyone must get like this from time to time, but you think you've always been this way. Keen to dissociating and slipping in and out of existence.

It's quite nice really, except for the times like right now where you'd love to figure out why the silence in your head is so painfully loud. The more you think on it the louder it gets and the stronger the buzzing under your skin feels. And right now the static in your mind has been getting louder and louder for the past few minutes. You feel your head jerk to the right of it's own accord, moving back in place it happens for a second time, and then a third, then jerks up, before jerking a forth time to the right effectively cracking you neck.

“There we go.” you mumble, you can relax a bit as the verbal tic indicates the end of this round of tics.

Sighing you look at the sky...that can't be right. The sky has been painted it's fresh baby blues for the day, but again that can't be right. You just got to the stream, that path is a thirty minute walk meaning it should be just about two thirty in the morning, but the sky suggests it's five or six at the latest. Reaching for your water bottle you find it empty next to you. You didn't fall asleep you know that much, perhaps you did dissociate tonight. Well this hike was disappointing if you knew you were going to dissociate you'd have saved yourself that embarrassment and stayed home. Maybe done some painting or tidied up.

Sighing you push yourself off the ground, collecting you vans you're about to put them on when you notice a figure off in the distance. You freeze out of shock and stare at the figure, it stares back. The figure is about ten yards away, god your near sighted ass should really remember to not leave your glasses in the car when hiking. The figure starts to make it's way to you and after a few steps you realize it hasn't moved from it's spot. Rolling your eyes you ignore the hallucination.

You'd really needed to get sleep last night, today is day six of no sleep and though you haven't had many episodes these past few days, you have a feeling they'll start to get more prominent today. Hopefully tonight you can manage to get some rest, the longer you go without sleep the more realistic the hallucinations become. But for today you're content with the knowledge that it's just shadow like beings that you'll be seeing.

After putting on your shoes you start the thirty minute hike back to your car. You're thankful for the weather in Kepler, nothing like back on the coast. Here you can go for a morning hike through the forest while a gentle breeze passes by and the sun starts to give the area a pleasant warmth. Back on the coast you couldn't run and grab the mail without getting drenched in moisture from either sweat, humidity, or a mixture of both. The coast sucks, hell Virginia sucks altogether, you're glad to be in Kepler.

“I want to go home, home.” you say out of nowhere.

Before you reach the entrance you hear barking, oh the RV campers must be up. Should you be careful not to scare them, or just walk normally and say 'Good morning' in passing, maybe just nod your head in greeting. Oh and you've stopped just beside the entrance as you got lost in your rambling. You didn't mean to come to a stop here, and as you try to move you notice how silent it's gotten. Did the dog go inside, maybe they've already passed...no it's too quiet for that. No the silence is oppressive like the one you deal with nightly, there's a reason for the silence. The situation's making you feel uneasy, but that could be the sleep deprivation talking.

You're about to brush it off and move when you hear a whispered, “Seriously man, I don't think anyone's out there. Let's get inside.”

There's a noise of agreement before you hear shuffling. Oh no, you zoned out and now you look like a weirdo stalker. Just perfect, maybe if you wait around a little more you'll seem more normal or at least feel normal. Not knowing how long to wait you walk along the tree line for a bit, looking at the ground as you do making sure you won't step on any snakes. In you quest to not step on any snakes you spot something suspiciously off white. It seems purposefully buried under a dead blueberry bush and some fallen branches.

Having listened to too many true crime shows, you know better than to implicate yourself in a murder. Grabbing a stick off the ground you gently brush the foliage away from the supposed corpse. No way, you can't believe your luck, it's an actual fucking skull. An intact skull of a deer! That is so cool, you've only seen taxidermists on TikTok getting so lucky and finding these dudes. Since the jaw bone is connected by tissue it of course isn't with the skull but maybe it's close by? Clearly this got planted or hidden by someone, maybe they were planning on pranking a friend by 'uncovering' a skull later. Oh well, finders keepers and all that, you have way better plans for this guy, hopefully you can find that jaw bone.

You set off searching through the foliage and near by bushes with the branch while holding the skull in your other arm. After searching about three feet around and finding no more bones you decide that this is the only part of the deer's skeleton in this area. A little disappointed but still thrilled with your find, you decide it must be a good time to go back to your car.

Surely you won't look weird now. You a little forager with their treasure in hand. Looks like you'll be busy cleaning, then bleaching, and cleaning these bones today. Is that the order to treat found bones? You aren't sure but you can look into that later. Placing the skull in the trunk so it doesn't roll about and get damaged you make sure it's secure before closing the trunk and getting into your car and locking the doors.

Not once did you notice the pairs of eyes that had been watching you. One watching as you found the deer skull, and the other set seeing you place bones into your car. They kept watching as you fiddled with the radio while the car was starting up. They watched as you pulled out of the sandy dirt lot and drove back down the old road a little faster than before now that you could clearly see.

#creepypasta fanfic #ticci tobyx reader #brain thomas x reader #timothy wright x reader #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #reader insert #no clue if I'm reaching a wider audience than AO3 but I'll try this out #Crossposted #as of now 13 chapters are over on AO3 if you wanted to read #other wise I'll post a chapter every 3 days on here until I catch up with AO3 #Ao3 has priority #A cure for insomnia

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thesunshinebunny · 4 years

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When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part III)

Series Master list

pairing: canon Eren Jaeger x reader

content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

Summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter summary: It will take more than a betrayal and blood blath for the reader to stop protecting those who really need it.

Words count: 4.7k

I knew things were going to go from bad to worse when we returned to Paradis; but I never imagined that I would have a letter from the Supreme Commander on my desk. Days had passed since my fiasco conversation with Eren, spreading the word of my insubordination towards the lack of notification to the respective authorities. Sure, the guards had let me into the cell just because they knew me, but I never had the decency to tell Hange-san or even ask for a meeting with the Supreme Commander.

And here I was. Wrapped up in a much bigger shit roll since I decided to enlist in the Survey Corps, with a simple letter demanding my presence in his office for a little "talk."

The medical center where I could do my practices with ease was quite far from the justice’s court where the Supreme Commander was, having to go out to ride through the beautifully paved streets. A street I crossed, a street I saw citizens read the newspapers that had brought so much catastrophe to peace within the walls. People were revolting against the militancy, demanding Eren's immediate release, praising he was the only one who could lead Eldia to its ultimate glory.

If they could heard themself right now. They spoke as if Paradis itself had become an empire, a power on the verge of attacking and taking every country under its feet. It was as if they wanted to turn the game around, to be us the empire and our enemies the war slaves.

I was still far from my destination, but the crowd could be seen cowering above the barred court doors. Men and women with posters screaming without sense or unity, an angry mob demanding explanations, ready to use violence to make their way into the hierarchy.

I got off my horse when I faced the crowd, needing to get up front and through the secured gate and with my loyal traveling companion I wasn't going to make it. I left him tied up outside a local, asking the owner to take care of him, if necessary, I would give him a monetary compensation on my returned.

I tried to get through the mob, asking permission, even nudging some people, but no matter how hard I tried to take a step forward, there was always a bastard blocking my way or pulling me back; They even had the decency to grab my coat and throw me off.

"Excuse me, but I need to pass"

Empty words at this situation. If they didn’t listen to the specialized people of the militancy, it was obvious that they wouldn’t listen to me, a simple doctor in practice for the legion.

"Free the leader of the Eldian empire"

"Free Eren Jaeger"

"Give us some damn answer"

"Fuck off you cheap bitch"

The day wasn’t even beginning and I was already receiving hateful comments, typical of closed minds.

I looked around for a solution, I was wasting valuable time and starting to get irritated. If I was late for my meeting with the Supreme Commander, who knows what punishment he would give me apart from my insubordination.

Besides of the mob there wasn’t much more than a few elegant houses and shops, no other entrance except the one in the backyard, but to get there, I would have to go all the way around the building and it would take much longer. The walls were too high to jump alone and too smooth to climb, otherwise enough people would have sneaked in by now.

I turned my head towards my horse, which was still in the same position where I left him, patiently awaiting my return. Surely what I was about to do wasn’t going to please him one bit.

I ran as fast as I could and unhooked him from the wooden post, ignoring the comments of the owner of the premises who was indisputably claiming for his pay. Without turning my head to such scum, I motioned for the horse to turn around and run down the avenue, against the crowd. Being at a considered distance, I again instructed him to turn around and go as fast as he could.

"I'm sorry Phillip, you're going to have to forgive me for what I'm going to do"

We were a few meters from the mob, mentally preparing myself for the feat that was about to be accomplished. Almost arriving, about to impact, I gave him a little jerk to the right, guiding us towards the wall, and raised my legs towards his back, squatting against him, waiting for the right moment and the impulse he would give when braking hard.

When he was about to slam his trunk against the wall, Phillip stopped his galloping, propelling me forward and flying toward one of the door columns. I grabbed the stone as best I could, avoiding falling on my backside, and raised my legs towards the top, finally reaching my goal. Being already on top and looking at the terrified faces of the rebels, I went down to the other side of the door, slightly hurting my feet and hands in the fall.

"That was quite a show"

Hitch was already in front of me, malicious and proud on her face. She was giving a few applause to the air, trying to lift the spirits of the people of the military squad, even if her acting was a bit cocky.

"Desperate situations call for desperate measures." I waved my hands over the coat, looking at her with the same smug visage she was giving me.

I didn't like Hitch per se, but we weren't friends either. The way she acted and talked gave me bad vibes and I planned to stay as neutral as possible in her presence. Even her gazes seemed to want to pierce the soul of whoever she was speaking to, as if she wanted to undress you internally and seek your darkest and most shameful secrets. I would stick my hands in the fire by assuming that in her younger years she had been a bully or a blackmailer.

But it was better to keep those thoughts for yourself, before generating greater repercussions in the times that hugged us.

"Did you come to see Armin and Mikasa?"

Any thoughts I had of her dissipated.

"They ... are they here?"

I was fuzzy. Not because of the fact that I was uninformed about their actions when they left the legion barracks in the morning, which I was getting used to since last year, but because they were in the same place as me. What a coincidence.

To be honest, the two of them never owed me anything and it wasn't their duty to tell me where they were going every minute of the day, just like Hange. Each one of us had their own will to go where we were sung; But if the three of us were in court, and if they gave me the chance to guess, I would say that to see the Supreme Commander, it made me a bit suspicious.

"Yes, they are talking to the Supreme Commander to try to go talk to Eren"

I must have hit my head at some point in the battle of Marley, because lately every occurrence was quite impossible to believe. They were the ones who asked me to go talk to him a few days ago, they were the ones who questioned me when I returned to the waiting room where the few survivors of 104° Squad were;it was them who gave me a compassionate look as they saw I hadn’t accomplished much and I had ended any relationship that bound me with Eren.

And now here they were, demanding an audience with their childhood friend, while I would have to be judged for the same action. Something wasn’t fitting. I looked around trying to find them, or maybe to find an answer to the thousands of questions that were forming in my head, and finding no help, I turned to Hitch.

"What is going on? Why-"

Before I could finish my question, an explosion rumbled across the cobblestone floor, hurting our ears and knocking us to the ground. Fire and debris couldn’t only be seen in the air but also smelled, flooding our nostrils, causing us to cough and cover our eyes with debris.

I looked up to find a flare coming from one of the court offices and a heavy body falling in our direction. I couldn't make it out until it fell to the ground, leaving a stain of blood and ash around it, apart from leaving a trail of smoke from where it flew off. My eyes were opened with shock and amazement, since the person in front of me was nothing more and nothing less than the same militant leader, half of the body lost and burned by the explosion.

"Well ... that's new"

In all my years of service I have seen every horror inside and outside the walls. True, even the Survey Corps had acted against the law, but it was for the greater good, to expose the bastards who lived on the wall farthest from the sea. I had seen people hit and kick another for a piece of food when the wall Maria fell. I had seen how we were massacred one by one with bullets to the head as we tried to go beyond the walls.

But never in those years I had seen a rebellion like the one taking place, being willing to eliminate such an authoritarian figure as Darius Zackly.

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The chaos went unnoticed by a large part of the population, only those who were present at the time of the explosion and the military police were aware. Faced with such an atrocious event of treason, a small meeting was convened involving the most important heads of each faction; unfortunately I couldn’t be there, my presence had been required in a clinic a few meters from the court. There were quite a few injured.

Some had mild and harmless burns, others had large parts of the body with third degree burns. Some had splinters stuck in their arms and faces, some had a piece of wood stuck in their stomach.

A couple of hours had passed which seemed like weeks to me. I had been assigned the milder cases, but as I pulled the splinters out of a patient's eyes, I had the countless howls of people echoing in my head, listening as they took their last painful breaths. People who asked to die on purpose to ease the pain.

Hours passed and welcomed the next day. I had terrible black circles under my tired eyes, hands stained with dried blood and splintered; they’re fucked up and I needed to heal them as quickly as possible before they got infected. I grabbed the cutting tools and placed them on a metal tray, the cold of the surface soothing the pain in my hands, and although it wasn’t too heavy I felt like it trembled on my grip.

I heard the door open wide at the other side of my last patient's room, the front door, letting in multiple heavy footsteps on the hardwood floor. Apparently, the soldier who had entered was in a hurry or was about to deliver terrible news...I wish I had been wrong in the second option.

"Bad news, Eren Jaeger has escaped from the underground cell"

I dropped the metal tray on my feet, making the sound of metal and utensils rumble across the room. My hands were shaking even more and surely if I saw myself in a mirror I would see my face completely pale.

"If you want to free yourself from this cell, go ahead"

My words invaded my mind like a bucket of cold water, as if they wanted to make me see that I was to blame for his escape. I knew that sooner or later he’s going to free himself, his eyes showed it and by not getting an answer that contrasted with mine, it was perfect evidence of his plans. But even knowing it, even Hange knowing it, I didn't expect him to do it in a moment of such betrayal.

I cleaned my hands as best I could with a towel hanging over the room sink and grabbed my coat, rushing out of the clinic.

"I’m sorry, I need to go"

But where to go was the question. I had no idea where Eren might be, and even if I knew what he was going to win, surely he was with his followers and with the simple image of me approaching from the horizon, I would be dead in a matter of seconds ... or imprisoned, whatever happen first.

At the exit of the clinic, there were two soldiers of the military police standing guard and watching the justice’s court from the distance. I approached them with the intention of asking them about the whereabouts of the Survey Corps, but they looked at me like I had the plague and pushed me aside hostilely, almost knocking me to the ground. I kept my composure as best I could and looked for someone else to ask; I didn’t have to wait long, since a woman of my age with mahogany hair, extremely black and matted, pointed the way where my comareds had gone. According to her words, they’re heading towards a large and luxurious building in the middle of one of the main avenues, recognizing the word restaurant from the conversation between the riders.

The only place that matched that description was the restaurant where Nicolo worked.

I hurried out with Phillip galloping through people, avoiding stepping on them and apologizing on my back. If there was something clear to me in all this mess, it was that Hange would go to find answers among the working Marleyans of that place. Maybe something could be solved.

I was very wrong.

I rushed into the building, finding only a long entrance hall and a corridor that led to god knows where. No one was even around to see me panic and I didn't see a soul nearby either, the only thing if I could hear a heated discussion far away and heavy footsteps on the floor. I let myself be guided by the sound, running back to its origins and finding a bizarre and meaningless scene in front of my eyes.

The room that seemed to be the main one hosted the orphaned children of the Blouse farm as well as Sasha's parents, sad and anguished parents if I paid better attention. The children were just as sad, with tears in their eyes, especially Kaya; they were crying the same way as on the day Sasha's death was reported. They were cornered under a window all together, hugging each other and letting the rays of the sun streaming through the window illuminate their figures, as if those rays could replace the heat that Sasha had left behind.

That scene broke my still fragile heart. I would have liked to reach out to them and try to help them move on, as I would have liked to stay on the farm with them when we came back from Marley to help them get by; obviously I could never have replaced Sasha and they could never have replaced my family, but in these times of battle, what mattered most was healing the wounds between all of us.

I would have liked to talk to them, but my eyes shifted from the Blouse family to the figure of Hange carefully placing a child on the floor. The blond boy was very badly injured on the side of his head, he was bleeding and his clothes had stuck to his body due to the large amount of liquid that had flowed down his torso.

"Hange-san, Wha-" As I stared at the blond boy on the floor, I could see that he was one of the children who had sneaked into our war balloon.

“Isn't that one of the Marleyan children? Why is he here and why is he bleeding?"

Unconsciously my body leaned forward, resting on one knee on the ground and reaching out to the boy. My instincts as a doctor were screaming for me to tend to the poor injured boy regardless of his race and I was willing to do so.

"We will take care of him, go to the room continue with Mikasa and Armin"

I got up without hesitation, taking one last look at the room I was in and it was just at that moment that I recognized Nicolo and Jean in a corner away from everyone else. They both looked very distressed, but I didn't have the opportunity to ask why, they had given me an order and I had to carry it out. I would have to wait until got back to base to understand this terrible situation.

The room they sent me to was at the end of the corridor, the door was closed but every step I took I could hear the soft voices of Mikasa and Armin, apparently talking to someone else. Well, that conversation must have to get a pause because I was about to slam the door in and leave the doors wide open.

“What the hell is going on? Why is a Marleyan child unconscious in the kitchen?"

Upon entering, all excited, my eyes only saw the figures of Armin and Mikasa around a table. They both looked up at me in disbelief when they saw me standing on the threshold. For the second time that day, I looked back across the stage in front of me and spotted a small brown-haired figure sitting at the same table. With a little more attention, I saw that the small figure was trembling, perhaps from fear or from adrenaline, at the same time that its face was bruised and full of blood; and putting all my attention on that bloody face I realized that I recognized those eyes, those same eyes that I had looked at with contempt and had looked back at me with the same feeling the night of the invasion.

The missing girl from the Marleyan duo was sitting across from me staring with sheep's eyes.

All exaltation I had in my body dissipated, my gaze fell, leaving nothing more than a neutral countenance. But ... anyone who could see through my eyes, would know they reflected the fatigue and sadness of several accumulated days. Seeing the girl was perhaps a way of attaching all the harmful feelings in a single part of my body.

I let out a long sigh and closed the door slowly behind me. I walked slowly towards where the girl was, running Mikasa to the side and looked at her with the best possible adult countenance. She had a red nose, it looked like it had been hit right on her septum causing her to bleed and stain her dress, which I assumed was courtesy of the Blouse family. Her cheek was scratched and red too, traces of broken and inflamed skin could be seen around her wound, but without any bleeding. This girl would have a swollen face the next day if we don't give her some ice.

“You’re hurt. Care to explain me what happened?"

I reached my hand out to her, but was greeted with a flinch from her. I could tell she was scared and she had every right to be.Either way, way I brought my hand to her face, placing my index finger and thumb on her jaw to move her head and look for other injuries.

Her face was the one that received the most impact, nothing in her eyes which was a very good sign, and I didn’t notice any kind of fracture in the bones of her cheek or septum. Good. I looked around the room for something I could use, but I only found empty tables adorned with a classic tablecloth and a very well elaborated and cared wine cellar, apart from showing off one of the best wine collections in recent years.

"Armin, can you go get some alcohol to disinfect the wounds? Surely they have something in the kitchen "

The blonde gave me a slight nod and left the room, leaving me alone with Mikasa, who was absolved of the situation, but still maintaining an imposing posture. The girl was still shaking on my hand, so I pushed her away and inspected her body for more injuries.

The palms of her hands were stained with blood, I guessed from the bleeding from her nose, but they also had some slight scratches, perhaps she had fallen to the floor. Her dress didn’t seem torn in the area of the knees, so I assumed that they weren’t injured or it was a very slight scratch, almost no bleeding. Her arms seemed intact as did her torso. I turned to the back of her head, running her hair gently trying to find any trace of blow that could generate a contusion. I didn’t find anything that could be fatal or serious, but I did see something that caught my attention.

“You have marks on your head, diffuse, but they are there. What happened?"

"... A horse bit me"

Of all the situations that could have led to those brands, I didn't expect to hear this one. I didn’t expect it, not at all. It caught me off guard and I let out a giggle which I covered with the back of my hand.

"Sorry, shouldn't laugh… you deserve it thou" I gave her a little pat on the top of her head before ruffling it a bit and bending down to look into her eyes.

Armin returned to the room, alcohol in hand and a clean cloth. Thank God something was clean in this whole city, I was beginning to lose my faith in the cleanliness of this people. I reached for the items and I proceeded to apply a large amount of alcohol to the cloth and apply it first to the frightened girl's cheek.

"Why are you so good to me? I killed a one of your friends"

That comment made me stop for a second, just like I stopped looking at her wound. My gaze fell to the floor in search of an answer; I searched, searched and searched for answers to questions that didn’t have one or weren’t as simple as they seemed...or simply looked in the wrong places and the answers were always in my mind, only that my heart wasn’t prepared to face them.

"The girl you killed the night of the invasion was called Sasha Blouse and she was the best archer and sniper of the legion"

I turned my gaze to her, continuing to heal her wound on her cheek. When I saw that there was only a small pink stain left on the surface, I moistened the cloth further with alcohol and ran it under her nose, removing any trace of blood. The girl pulled back a bit when she felt it’s smell her nostrils and I had the opportunity to cover her nose for a few seconds to stop the bleeding.

"You know ... you remind me of a boy exactly like you"

When I saw that the bleeding stopped and the girl stopped moving due to the burning and itching that the alcohol was surely causing, I grabbed her hands and began to clean them with small touches avoiding tearing her skin.

“Just as intense and ready to fight for what he thinks is fair. You are just a little girl who was taught that we were the bad guys. It’s the way you were raised, the way you see the world. They taught us something else, but at the end of the day, apart from everything... we are the same"

It hurt. Yes, it hurt to see the one guilty of the death of my best friend, but it hurt more to see in her eyes the hatred and contempt they had taught her towards our race. The hate cycle we were getting into wasn't going to get us anywhere and it was better to nip it in the bud, even with baby steps.

When I finished cleaning all her wounds, I put the cloth on the table and looked at my performance with deep pride. It wasn't much, but it was enough; Not only had I cleaned a few simple wounds, but perhaps, I wished that perhaps, it would begin to heal her mind ... and mine as well.

I got up heavily, noticing how my knees creaked when squatting for a long time and I stretched my body generating more crunches, but noting at the same time how the heaviness of my back left and leave behind a much lighter load.

“Very good, you’ve been a good patient. Surely there is something sweet in the kitchen that I can give you” I patted her head again and gave her a sincere smile, one that I hadn't given anyone for quite a while. I headed to the door unconcerned about the situation I assumed was still going on in the main room.

"What's going to happen to Eren Jaeger?"

What will happen to him? And why does she ask me that?

"Don't worry, I'm not letting him put a finger on you" A sincere answer to a question asked out of fear. I reached the door and in the middle of the sentence I turned the knob wanting to make my way into the hall, but a tall figure blocked my way.

Eren was right on the threshold with the intention of opening it.

Well mark me impress

My body jerked back instinctively, avoiding taking my eyes off his. I moved to the right side, avoiding the figure of the Marleyan girl from being in Eren's point of view. I didn't know why he was here or if the others knew about it, but whatever the reason, he surely wasn’t alone and this wasn’t going to lead to anything good.

"Sit down"

He took a few steps forward, closing the door with his foot, not even paying attention to his surroundings, or maybe yes, now everything was a confusion when it came to the brunette in front of us.

"You can't tell me what to do" I planted myself in front of him, without taking a step back. We were both facing each other, him carrying me several inches tall, several dominating inches that made my legs shake and my heart race.

If it had been in any other situation, that trembling, that acceleration would have been very well received. It was impossible not to feel small next to Eren, the damn bastard had hit a big stretch and there was a great difference around the body between the two, a difference that I always loved to admire.

But not now. Not at this moment when everything was going to shit and I had to stand up to the figure of a little girl who was internally dying of fear thanks to him.

"Sit. Down"

Few centimeters separated us from each other, his chest too close to mine, I could feel how it swelled with each breath. He raised his hand to my face, letting me see his cut palm and dripping blood. Fear took hold of me, making me stand even more in my position, but I wasn’t going to give in so easily.

"You wouldn't" I looked him in the eye, defiant, longed for and everything in between.

"Try me"

It was all he said before grabbing onto my shoulders and pulling me back. My body collided with the table and instinctively I placed my hands on it. I heard how Armin and Mikasa tried to get closer to where we were, but a single glance from Eren made them stay still, submissive, as they lost in their positions. His gaze returned to mine. My breath hitched and I had to avoid with all my might thinking about the position we were entwined.

It wasn’t the time to think about how my hips were slightly elevated, just my butt up on the table and one leg dangling, his knee between my legs, preventing me from closing them and keeping the leg that was hanging in the air. His gaze wandered between our bodies and he returned to my eyes. He tightened his grip on my shoulders and pushed me to the side of the table, dropping me onto the chair next to the girl.

"I said. Sit. Down"

He took his hands off my shoulders, took the seat next to me and Armin and Mikasa sat with him, leaving an air of discomfort and tension in the environment.

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#aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren smut #when the world falls apart

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whosscruffylooking · 4 years

Text

The Purest Things-A New Home

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

a/n: this is a repost considering it didn’t show up in any of the tags yesterday. have i mentioned how much i despise tumblr sometimes :) again, i want to give a special shoutout to @avengersbau for giving me a second set of eyes on this one.

word count: 2k

warnings: canon-typical violence and descriptions of injury.

The Purest Things Masterlist

gif is not mine! credit goes to @hqtchner

au! october 2007

Bookend: “It’s never too late to become who you want to be. I hope you live a life that you’re proud of, and if you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start over.” — F. Scott Fitzgerald

++++

"I am SSA Hotchner. Welcome to the team Agent Y/L/N," his voice reminds you of the transatlantic accents of Hollywood stars of old. The kind you used to hear in the old black and white movies you would watch as a child.

"It's an honor to be here sir," you stare directly into his brown, soulfully deep eyes.

"J.J., get us started, please," SSA Hotchner suggests.

Sitting down, you look to the screen that displays the frightful footage of bombs detonating in various locations.

"Yesterday, an 81-year-old woman was severely injured when a bomb exploded in the toilet of a women's restroom," J.J. informs.

"Interesting spot to hide a bomb," Agent Prentiss sneers.

Jennifer flips through the slides and shows another bombsight located in a subway station, "Last year a similar bomb that had been attached to a phone box detonated. No outstanding injuries were reported. However, the bombs' similar makeup alerted detectives to dig into other bombings throughout the years. They have positively identified attacks over the past twelve years as perpetrated by the same bomber."

Spencer adds, "His M.O. is similar to George Peter Metesky, better known as the Mad Bomber. He terrorized New York City over a period of 16 years. He planted bombs in theaters, subway stations, libraries, and offices. They were left in phone booths, storage lockers and restrooms."

"Do you think we are looking at a copycat?" Derek questions.

"If we are, we need to stop him soon," declared David.

"He's escalating-becoming bolder and more vicious," you say, scanning the report.

"Tell Boston we can be there by 9:30," Hotch notifies J.J...

++++

"It seems like he's a textbook paranoid schizophrenic. People suffering from this disorder may think that other people are regulating them or plotting against them. They tend to be reclusive, antisocial, and obsessed Hwith hatred for their presumed enemies," you twist a loose string from your shirt around your finger, unwind it, then repeat the process.

It's a nervous tick you developed over the years that has worn down numerous tops before achieving their intended lifespan. You glance at Agent Hotchner, seeking a sign of approval. His eyes meet yours, and he poignantly nods.

Did I say too much? No. Don’t overthink this. They can probably smell fear.

"In his letters left at the bombsights, he uses words like 'broad' and 'chick' to signify women," Dr. Reid chimes in.

"Do you think the unsub is motivated by hostility towards women? "

"It's possible," he continues, "These speech patterns age him significantly, however. Phrases such as these were mainly used in the 30's, 40's, and 50's."

Agent Hotchner begins to delegate tasks before the jet lands, "Morgan and Reid, I want you to head to the bombsights and see if you can't work out the motive. J.J. and Prentiss talk to the victim's families, determine our victimology. Y/L/N, Rossi, and I will head to the precinct and familiarize ourselves with the lay of the land and see if we can't formulate a geographical profile."

++++

At the precinct, you observe Agent Hotchner's ability to singlehandedly transition an entire police force's obligation to under his jurisdiction.

"Captain Moreno, this is SSA David Rossi and SSA Y/F/N Y/L/N," the Unit Chief introduces you.

The captain tilts his head at you, "Aren't you a little young to be in the FBI? How old are you anyway?"

You nail him with a you're-full-of-crap look.

Everyone gets to be young once; your turn is over, old man.

Choosing to take the high road, you say, "I'd like to get my hands on the bombers handwritten notes. There has to be something in those letters that can give us a clue into the who, what, when, and where of this case."

Skeptical of your request, he narrows his eyes and looks to David and Agent Hotchner.

"You hear her," Dave exclaims, "Lead the way!"

Your enigmatic smirk no doubt gives away the great pleasure Dave's gibe brings you.

++++

"Agent Hotchner," you hand him your preliminary geographical profile. With his arms crossed, he intimidatingly peers into your research.

Don't burn a hole in my paperwork; I worked hard on that.

He is impressed by your work, taking in your comprehensive outline of proof that details the unsubs point of origin. For someone so young, your attention to detail puts even his most observant profilers to shame. "How did you come to this conclusion?"

"My family is from Chicago. When I was little, I used to read through my grandfather's old newspapers that he collected throughout the 1950's. On the jet, I knew some of the phrasings that Dr. Reid was using sounded familiar, so I cross-referenced it with some of the particular articles I remember from my childhood and found his wording to be exact iterations of the Chicago Crier."

Without taking his eyes off of the paperwork, he commends you, "Impressive use of your prior knowledge. Often, the information drilled into us through education is lackluster compared to that of real-world experience."

You turn to walk back to your makeshift desk when he calls out to you, "And Y/L/N, call me Hotch."

Your shoulders relax from the tension you hadn't even realized you'd been clinging onto, "Alright. Hotch."

++++

You immediately regretted your decision. In pursuit of the unsub, you had wandered off down an abandoned subway tunnel and cornered him.

"Harold Watts, FBI. Gently place the remote detonator on the ground," You shout. Grappling to keep your gun from slipping between your clammy palms, you grip the weapon tighter.

Ordinary people's first days of work are uneventful; they're given a series of mundane tasks at most. Me? Of course, my first day involves being secluded in a subway tunnel facing down a man decked from head to toe in explosives and wires.

"D-don't come any closer. I have my finger on the trigger! I'm not afraid to die, and I will not hesitate to take you up in flames with me," he stammers.

The stampede of footsteps, no doubt from your colleagues and half of the Boston police force, resonate through the echo chamber you're standing in. Watts spooks and loses his balance. You begin shouting for the people behind you to stand down.

"The tracks are live, one wrong step, and we all blow up. I repeat, stand down!"

Turning your attention back to Watts, you attempt to soothe his irrationality. You slowly return your gun to its holster, raising your hands up in surrender. Hotch yells something unintelligible from behind you, but your focus is on the unsub and trying to prevent any more casualties.

"Harold, let's just talk this through for a couple of minutes. My men behind me will leave us alone. It's you and me now. Before this, you never wanted to hurt yourself. You wanted to be heard. All of your life you felt like you were forced into the shadows, and you began to fester there in your pain and rage."

He tenses up; you have his attention now.

"Those girls who teased you and ripped your masculinity from you needed to be taught a lesson. But you didn't just stop there; you decided to do all women a favor and demonstrate to them the kind of pain they could cause, hoping to prevent them from making the same mistakes. In fact, you helped me to see what I can do better. I never want to make someone feel the way you did."

"Y-you learned that...f-from me?" Harold quietly sobs.

You nod, "Yes! Yes, Harold. And you can still be heard, but not if you die today. I could be your greatest advocate. If we walk out of here right now, think of how famous you could be. Harold, you will never be stuck in the shadows again."

It is crucial to your survival and your teams that you are brave just long enough to analyze the situation and keep your self-control. Panic won't do anyone any good right now.

Your mouth dries as you await Harold's next move. Suddenly, he hunches over, extending the hand gripping the detonator. Pausing for a moment to be sure he isn't making any drastic moves, you promptly hurry to his side and gently pull it from his clutch.

As the police officers and your colleagues rush to your aid, Harold looks up at you with hopeful eyes.

"Make me famous," he murmurs with a grin that churns your stomach.

Hotch ushers you away from the unsub, backing you up against the wall of the tunnel, "You actively defied my orders."

Searching every inch of his face for an accurate reading of his emotions, you are unsure of how to respond.

"I'd like to think it won't happen again," his eyes studying you just as intently.

You swallow hard, aware of the lump in your throat and take a deep breath, "You have my word, Agent Hotchner."

"Good," he affirms, eventually freeing his hold on your arm.

You let out a shaky sigh of relief and relax your spinning head against the wall.

Opening your eyes, you observe your new team tieing up all loose ends. They're safe. You are safe. Despite this first day not being as mundane as others, you wouldn't have it any other way. This feeling is what you signed up for, and it's already fulfilling you in ways you couldn't fathom before stepping inside the BAU office this morning.

++++

Aboard the jet, you tuck your legs underneath you and open up a book to read.

A cup of steaming hot coffee appears on the table in front of you.

Hotch sits across from you with a similar cup and offers you a subtle smile, "Impressive work out there today. I'm sorry your first day of work couldn't be more eventful."

A joke? I didn't take him as the joking kind.

Rolling your eyes, you put on a disappointed tone, "God...if you guys drag your feet like this every day, I might have to consider a transfer."

In a more serious nature, he asks, "How are you feeling?"

"Alright, I guess. You were right, you know, no amount of studying or lectures can truly prepare you for what it's like when you're staring into the eyes of a killer. I've learned the negotiation techniques and memorized the textbook 'put the gun down' speech, but all of that flies out the window when you're in the moment."

"You will find that improvisation at times is the key to success in this job. Just know that this team is a family. You will never face this alone or be at a loss for anything. Your career is in its infancy, but I can tell you have a long and triumphant journey ahead of you. We will do whatever we can to ensure that you are at home here and can use this team as an opportunity to refine your abilities. All I ask in return is that you work with us, not against us. You have nothing to prove. They see your resourcefulness. So do I. You are one of us now."

Some gazes are the promise of protection; his is all that and more. The words "at home" resonate in your mind. You've spent your whole life searching for a home, and here it is, its doors being opened to you. After a lifetime of running from place to place, perhaps this is where you can finally settle down.

"Get some rest," Hotch whispers to you. And with that, you lean your head against the chilled window and shut your eyes.

++++

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gottawriteanegoortwo · 3 years

Note

The most baffling part of WKM is that everyone trusts and adores Damien, despite him being the only one in politics and actively in office. Mark made the mayor character the most trusted and loved. How????

(uh oh, you unlocked my 'Love Damien' mode)

You came to the right person! This is a great question and I will gladly go on a rant to try and help shed a little light on this!

In short, it's exactly because of how you phrased your question. There's a politician. He's seen as nice and trusted and loved. It seems like something that shouldn't be, and you assume the worst of him because it has to be an act for whatever reason; and that is because of the general view of politicians at the moment. I'm not touching IRL topics with a ten foot pole, but I will say that at present, there is a sorta wariness/a 'they don't care about us' vibe toward politicians in certain countries (including my own). That's something that then seeps into media.

Think about it. If there's a politician in a show of any sort (especially one holding office), they're usually up to no good behind the scenes or are unreliable - just like how a librarian might be cranky, for instance - in a sort of caricature. Off the top of my head I can remember seeing... A mayor that wanted to evict an entire community to build a business something-or-other to make lots of money, a mayor who branded a local team of agents as non-trustworthy when they went against his pretty crummy views (which could be the same show tbh), an absolutely useless buffoon of a mayor who needed the help of children to constantly save his city from supervillains, and a politician (maybe a mayor?) who constantly clashed with the chief of police in a city. This isn't even considering the times a politician character (whether or not they hold office) is involved with criminals, bribery, is being blackmailed, or even has a criminal record of some sort.

Damien is an exception to this trope. It may or may not be completely intentional, but it's genius on Mark's part. You walk in, see this well-dressed man with a rather cheesy Mayor badge pinned on... And people would immediately get suspicious... Something which Mark called people out on at a panel! Don't forget, every character was framed in a way to give reason for them maybe being the killer. I watched WKM (and got vaguely into the fandom) a week after it finished, so I missed the speculation in between each episode. From what I've seen, it appeared that a lot of people were wary of Damien, though I'm not too sure if it's because they were like "IT'S JUST DARK IN DISGUISE DON'T BE FOOLED" or if it was because of his job and mannerisms. Either way, it turns out his worries were genuine, and he was innocent of any crime that night, which completely subverts the expectation of a politician in a show. He's a rare breed - someone that has good intentions and a good heart, who wasn't 'tainted' by politics in some way.... But ends up getting corrupted anyway through matters far beyond his control.

Not only that, there's two important points that I think people forget and I'll go into better detail of under the read-more because this is getting pretty long.

1. The character that is the viewer has known Damien since university. That means they've been friends minimum... Let's say five years, but probably closer to ten. You're going to be more at ease and more 'yourself' around people you are very fond of, and Damien's face lit up the moment he noticed the viewer arrived. Since the viewer would be going into this cold the first time it's viewed, they wouldn't feel that bond and might think Damien's friendliness is an act. 2. While he is the Mayor, he's not The Mayor at that moment. He's merely a Mayor by title alone. For the events of Who Killed Markiplier?, he's just Damien. It would be different if we had walked into his office, but we arrived at a party with people Damien was comfortable with. He had no need to impress anyone because they were friends. Remember, the reason the badge exists is to tell the viewer what Damien does. Otherwise he could be any sort of businessman or guy in a fancy suit, and the explain everything video states that everyone thought Mark got the suit for a wedding when he shared a photo.

(Both points are showcased nicely in the very first scene we meet Damien if you compare the way he talks to the Detective - someone he barely knew - to the viewer - who has been a friend since university. When talking to Abe, Damien stands poker straight (almost rigid) and rests his hands on his cane. One hand moves to emphasise something, but the rest of his body remains still. There's a polite, yet formal, air to him. Here, he is The Mayor. I'd bet they were having casual conversation on how they met Mark or some other generic topic to break the ice. Then the pair notice you and that conversation is instantly DROPPED. Damien immediately lifts his cane as his entire body turns to the viewer. That smile isn't one that's given out of politeness. He's now Damien. There's no need to put on an act when it's a familiar friend. He still stands straight, but his body language and facial expressions are far looser and more casual. Gestures are with both hands now. His expressions are more playful, including widening his eyes to emphasise his tease about the viewer's skill of poker. This continues until he walks off-screen where, I presume, he was going to say hello to William.)

We don't know the extent of how much anyone trusts anyone else, but one of the big exceptions is the Colonel. I know I've written a headcanon on a roleplay blog about this, but he didn't know you, so he was polite, but distant and aloof. He had no reason to even care about you. We saw a good example of William acting like this the morning after. HOWEVER, after spotting the viewer talking to Damien outside at the end of the first episode, he notices a connection. The moment he knows you are Damien's friend he opens up with no hesitation in the second episode and is rather friendly toward you from then on. He trusts you because he trusts Damien, which to me suggests that our Mayor keeps good company and has a good judge of character. Plus, no one really has a reason to think ill of Damien. He and William have an argument focused on William's reaction to Mark's death (and don't forget that Damien wanted to apologise but William kept running away), while Celine shuts him down for Damien trying to get her to reconsider her idea; but neither are motives for them to be suspicious of Damien. Chef and George are indifferent, while the Butler is probably indifferent but feels comfortable enough to make a drug joke with Damien in earshot (and Tyler's IC stream as Butler had it that he thought well of Damien, but this might not be considered canon). On the other hand, you could say that the Detective is wary of Damien, but he was suspicious of everyone between all the work he did and the warning he got from Mark, so it's not completely reliable.

Speaking of, I haven't forgotten about the Detective's study and how there's a record sheet for Damien with something scribbled out. Unfortunately, I don't think it's something we'll ever get clarification on. I double-checked the explanation stream and there wasn't any mention of what was on it... But I feel like I heard Mark say something like 'forget about what is there, focus on why it's there', or how it got there in the first place? Maybe it was for another project, but the idea is more that the Detective's work was built up over time, and not in the span of that weekend; rather than focusing on every little piece of writing that can be seen. Perhaps there is something shady in Damien's life... But since it wasn't relevant to the 'story' we were being shown, it was omitted. This could very well be where people take the idea of a corrupt politician and run with it (and I have seen some excellent roleplayers over the years work with that!), or they could be like me and say that the crimes were things he was framed for. Or maybe, as I'm writing this, it could be like how Abe had documents for things that didn't happen in WMLW, and that the crimes he scribbled out were ones that Dark would do later... But that's going into theorist territory and that's not at all relevant to what I'm talking about.

Anyway, I've rambled on waaay too much as it is. He's trusted and loved as a character because he's so human. Mark pointed out in the explanation stream that Damien was the only one to question what was going on. He was upset, mourning, and had no idea what to do. It's a vulnerability that you don't see from people often, especially if they are supposed to be leaders.

If there's anything people wanna add or point out, jump in and do so! :D

#Ash talks #(it's either Damien or Y.ancy. I think they're the two you can really get me ranting about so apologies for the length!)#(when you've been writing a character for three years you tend to think a LOT about them)#(I'm no theorist or someone who claims to be the 'best Damien writer' btw. I just really appreciate our good Mayor)#long post #(I was nearly late for work because I wanted to start this before work; and I've spent over an hour AFTER work adding to it)#(there's a read-more but I wrote a LOT damnit)#who killed markiplier #mayor damien #(also it's a nice change to not have to rapidly proof-read and put dots in the middle of important words so it doesn't appear in searches!)#(how much answers the question and how much is me being like 'DAMIEN IS A GOOD MAN'? You decide!)

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zestyemby · 3 years

Text

Monsters in the Shadows - Avengers X Reader - Prequel Chapter

Pre-story Note: This is MCU Avengers based, alternate timeline so events are obviously going to be a bit different, but I’ll try and stay as close to canon as possible. As of right now, I don’t know who the pairing will be. Past Reader was obviously with Bucky and may be again, later, or she could be paired with someone else. Feel free to comment who you think she should end up with. This chapter is also a prequel of sorts, and once Reader’s powers are activated, her fingers a kinda stained an inky black, like, permanently.

Warnings: Loss, Trauma, Language (don’t think there is much, if any, in this chapter though)

Other Info: Y/N – Your Name & Y/L/N – Your Last Name

______

Ten years ago, she had been normal. Fifteen years ago, she had friends and was about to go to college. Her whole life was ahead of her and there was not anything standing in the way of it. They, her friends, had planned a trip to Washington D.C. to visit the Smithsonian before they all went their separate ways. It was something they had always wanted to do but could not until they graduated, a rule their parents had come up with. It was not even that they were interested I the history of it. More like, one of the had a weird obsession with Captain America.

So here they were, entering the museum with a crowd of people hoping to see the same exhibits. While her friends talked, she looked silently at the exhibit, taking it every bit of information, she could. It seemed familiar to her somehow. When they reached the section on Bucky and Steve, a switch flipped in her mind. She was flooded with memories, not of her life now, but of a life sixty years ago. A life that she had lived. A life that she had spent, loving a man that died at war. The same man that was Captain America’s best friend, James Buchanan Barnes.

“Hey doll,” a voice called, “are you ready to go?”

“Just a second,” she replied. She looked herself over in the mirror one last time before running towards the door. “Ready!”

“Steve is coming with us tonight.” The man held a hand out to her, “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. It’ll be fun.” She took his hand with a smile on her face and giggled as he twirled her around.

“I’m going to miss that sound.”

“You make it sound like you won’t be coming home.”

“You never know...”

“Bucky, you have to promise me you’ll come home.”

The memory caused her to stumble back, holding her head. “W-what?” She looked around but she could not tell what was a memory or reality. It all seemed to blend together. When she heard a knock, she started to panic. There was not a door nearby, but it sounded so close. “I can’t….”

The knock came again, signaling her that whoever was at the door was not going to leave until she answered. She set the rolling pin aside and wiped her hands on her apron. Upon reaching the door, and opening it, she saw that it was Steve, only, he was bigger. “Steve? What happened to you? Why are you here?”

“It’s Bucky,” Steve began.

“What happened?” She saw the broken look in his eyes and took a step back, shaking her head. “Don’t you dare…”

“I’m sorry…”

“Please...”

The moment he saw her begin to shake, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. Her knees gave out then, and if he had not hugged her, she would have collapsed. It was the muffled screams into his coat that caused him to tear up. He held her as she cried, but he did not try to console her beyond that. There was not anything he could say that would ease what she was going through.

Upon coming out of the memory, she began hyperventilating. The heartbreak she felt, it was as real as if it had just happened. By this point, her friends had noticed something was wrong and were immediately at her side. “I... I can’t breathe...”

“Let’s get her outside,” one of her friends had said as she wrapped an arm around her waist. “Janet, help me!”

“Right, sorry,” Janet said, tearing herself away from looking at the picture of Steve Rogers. She took over on Y/N’s other side, and the three girls started heading outside. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. She was looking at the exhibit about Bucky and then this happened.”

“Maybe we should get her back to the hotel?”

“Or she needs medical attention?”

“Michelle,” Janet looked shocked, “We’ll have to end the trip early if she goes to the hospital.”

“Fine, we’ll take her back to the room. But if she does not calm down soon, we’ll have to take her to the hospital.”

“Deal.” Janet released Y/N and went to hail a cab. After several attempts, one pulled up to the curb and the girls loaded Y/N up then climbed in.

Several minutes later, it did not seem like Y/N was doing any better. In fact, it seemed like she had passed out. There were tears still streaming down her face, but her breathing had returned to normal.

“Should we call her mom,” Michelle asked, concerned.

Janet pursed her lips, unsure of what to do. Just as she was about to say something, Y/N’s eyes snapped open. The only problem, they were pitch black. “Uhm, Y/N? Are you okay?” The response she received was a high-pitched scream that caused the driver to swerve into another vehicle. This resulted in several vehicles crashing into one another, an eventually lead to a pileup.

They thought it stopped there, along with Y/N’s screaming. But it did not. What happened next would cost D.C. half a city block and resulted in what would be nearly two hundred missing persons. A burst of darkness came from Y/N and swallowed everything within three hundred feet. As it faded away, the only thing left was Y/N, breathing heavily, and reaching out with blackened fingers.

Elsewhere, every available news source was covering the story of how a portion of D.C. disappeared in a black hole. Nick Fury entered the office, furious. “Someone tell me what the hell is going on! What just happened?”

“We don’t know sir,” Maria said as she hovered over one of the techs. “All we know is that there is one survivor.”

Nick looked up at the screen, seeing Y/N on the ground, clearly disoriented. He watched as paramedics rushed to her. “What hospital is she at?”

“It looks like,” Maria took over for the tech, “George Washington University Hospital.”

“Let’s go. I want to talk to her.”

“Sir?”

“I’m willing to bet that teenager knows what happened. Might even be the one responsible.” He did not wait for a response before turning and walking out of the room. Maria followed quickly after. Within an hour, they were walking into Y/N’s hospital room, and he was taking a seat by her bed, while Maria stood by the door. “Y/N Y/L/N?”

Y/N had been staring at the ceiling since she had been brought in. Everything that was said to her went in one ear and out the other. When she heard someone say her name, she turned her head slowly to look at them. “Are you here to ask questions too? I already told them I do not know what happened. The last thing I remember was being at the Captain America Exhibit.”

“No,” Nick said, “What part of the exhibit were you looking at?”

She turned back to look at the ceiling. “James “Bucky” Barnes. I looked at it, and when I saw his face, I remembered things.”

“What things?”

“It wasn’t my life, but it was. It felt so real.” She lifted her hand and looked at it, turning it over a few times. “The warmth of his hand. The feeling of my heart breaking when Steve said he was dead.” Putting her hand down, she turned back to the man. “Who are you?”

“My name is Nick Fury and I work for SHIELD.”

“What’s that?”

“The reason we are here.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You are a peculiar individual Y/N, and we want to help you.”

“You think I did it, don’t you?”

“I’m not saying you did but your hands,” he gestured to her blackened fingers, “say you were at least involved.”

“By helping, do you mean lock me up?”

“Is that what you want?”

“No.”

“Then no, unless you give us a reason.”

“Okay.” There was not a reason to deny the help he offered her. Everyone else that had been in her room had already decided she was guilty. It was the way they asked their questions. The way that they looked at her. They did not treat her like a survivor. “Can you make me disappear too?”

“Sir,” Maria turned to Nick after seeing a doctor coming.

“What is it,” Nick asked.

“The doctor is on his way. He isn’t alone.”

“Who is with him?”

“Looks like police.”

“Tell them we’re taking her off their hands.” When Maria nodded in response and left the room, he turned back to Y/N. “Welcome to SHIELD Y/N.”

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mysoftboybensolo · 3 years

Text

The Alienist and the Soprano

Chapter 11: The Rumors

A/N: This was inspired by Laszlo’s love of opera and my thought on what if he fell for an opera singer. Multi chapter. Canon divergence, there is no Mary Palmer here (I loved Mary and Laszlo, so I don’t feel like I could have her here and have him be with another woman). A mix of show and book canons. No Y/N, OC named Evelina Lind.

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32029150

Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x Fem OC!

Summary: The last thing Laszlo Kreizler ever expected while investigating the death of children was to fall in love, and with an opera singer no less!

Warnings: Age gap, Victorian shaming. Some angst but fluff ahead!

If Evelina would have had her way, she’d have stayed with Laszlo through the night, but he had to convince her to go, not wishing to have unfounded whisperings against her because of him. She agreed, only after she said that she would come straight from the opera to him to check on him. But Laszlo’s attempts were still for naught, for when she went to the opera the next day, nearly everyone had swarmed her to know the details of the previous night.

“Miss Lind, who was the man who attacked you?”

“Why was Dr. Kreizler there? What is his involvement?”

“Were you having an affair with Dr. Kreizler and this man became jealous?”

All the questions had overwhelmed her to the point where she was certain she could cry. Mrs. Vidal had pushed herself through the crowd and took hold of Evelina, whacking anyone with her umbrella if they came too close, and did not let up until they were in the safety of her dressing room.

“Oh, Evelina,” the costumer sighed, “It has been a madhouse here.”

“What has happened?”

“Don’t you know? My dear, it’s all in the papers.” Mrs. Vidal picked up the paper from the table and showed it to Evelina.

Taking it, Evelina began to read aloud the story.

“The opera is a house of dramatics and passions, and never more so than the previous night. Around six o’clock in the evening, the police had stormed the musical sanctuary after receiving a tip that some deadly drama was happening in the cellars of the opera. Not too much is known, but what is known is that it involved a man who seemed to have had an unhealthy obsession with the opera’s finest soprano, Miss Lind, and New York’s foremost alienist, Dr. Laszlo Kreizler. The unknown man was shot dead, and it seemed for good reason too, for Dr. Kreizler looked a little worse for wear as he was helped by a police officer and the soprano, who got into the hansom with him and went off into the night. Miss Lind is set to play the titular Juliette in the tragic love story, but one has to wonder if she is not already playing her own tragic love affair already.”

She tossed the paper aside and huffed an annoyed sigh. The only thing that she felt relieved was the omission of the ‘unknown man’ being that of her brother, otherwise, the press would have had an even bigger field day. “They don’t know as much as they think they do.”

“The most important thing is if you are alright,” Mrs. Vidal said, looking at her curiously.

“Yes, and it was only because of Laszlo. I mean, Dr. Kreizler. He was indeed a hero in every sense.”

Even though everyone in the opera house wanted to know what happened, they were the most sympathetic to her predicament. Many of her female coworkers had shared their own horror stories of men stalking them and the measures they took to try and get their attentions. The men vowed that if they had known they would have protected her, and she was touched knowing that they would have indeed. Ernest hadn’t bombarded her like everyone else did, in fact, he didn’t say a word about the incident throughout the rehearsal, and it was exactly what Evelina needed. She didn’t want to dwell on the events of the previous night, but rather to forget it like a bad dream. Only at the end of the day when everyone was clearing out for the evening’s performance did he speak to her.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I mean it. Thank you for not only for today, but for having called the police. It really saved us.”

“I knew something wasn’t right the way Laszlo came through here. How is he, by the way?”

“He’s on bedrest, but he will be alright. I am on my way to see him now.”

“Please give him my regards. And, I just want to say, I knew it. I knew it right from the first time seeing you two together that there was something there. It was just a matter of time until you two admitted your feelings. Oh, you’ll be very happy together I am sure!”

Evelina smiled and felt her cheeks grow warm. At least there was someone who didn’t immediately pair her with John. Full of excitement, Evelina hurried to Laszlo’s and went right to his room. He looked a little better, well rested and his mood improved, but he still was bruised and bandaged.

“Hello, how are you feeling today?”

“Sore, but it’s better than the other day. You just missed Marcus and Lucius; they came to check on me. Hmm,” he huffed with a shake of his head, “Them checking on me. Never thought that would happen.”

Evelina smiled as she pulled the chair closer to his bed. “Well, Ernest sends his regards and wants it on the record that he knew about us right from the start.”

Laszlo shook his head. “Ernest always has to take credit for the way things turned out. That’s why he’s the manager,” he said, making Evelina and him laugh.

Stevie had walked in with a large tray of two plates of food. “I figured you both would be hungry, so I made you both plates.” Stevie set it on the bed in front of Laszlo and pulled out from his pockets two glasses and poured them wine. “There you are, and if you need anything else, just ring.” He winked at them and disappeared from the room.

Evelina looked at Laszlo amazed. “Is Stevie always like this? Very…forward?”

“He has never had any problem with expressing himself, if that is what you mean,” Laszlo chuckled as he handed her the silverware.

“It was funny. The other day when he left me alone with you, he said something about ‘bottle-chelly’. What did he mean by that?”

Laszlo froze and realized that Stevie had revealed something that was told in private.

It was not long after when Eleanor pointed out the Madonna of the Magnificat painting to him and Laszlo went through certain pains to obtain a copy of the painting but only of the Madonna herself. Stevie had been there to receive the package while the doctor was out and wanted to see what it was that had to be handled with the most special of care.

Laszlo unwrapped the portrait and showed it to Stevie. “Pretty. But I thought you didn’t believe in God,” Stevie noted.

“I don’t. It’s just…she reminds me of someone. A perfect Botticelli angel.”

Laszlo knew that he wouldn’t be able to hide it, so he reached over to the nightstand away from Evelina and pulled it out of the drawer. “This is what he was talking about.” Evelina took the frame and stared right at the painting of the Madonna, a painting she was familiar with, but was confused as to why just this part. As if he read her mind, he answered her question. “It was brought to my attention that you looked very similar to her and…well, I just wanted…” he stopped, he knew it was pathetic, that the whole reason behind it was pathetic. He just wanted to be able to see her, after he woke up, on the days when she didn’t visit, and before he went to bed.

Instead of calling him a foolish and pathetic man as he had half expected, she smiled sadly and sweetly and said, “It is incredibly flattering that you see me as such. I don’t think anyone has ever called me an angel before, lest of all a Botticelli one.”

He looked at her amazed. “You, you don’t mind that I had it? Or for the reasons why I did?”

“It’s tragically romantic that you did. It does make me sad to think you had to resort to this, as if you thought it was not possible any other way. Oh, Laszlo. Who broke your heart so badly that you felt you could never be loved?”

It was a painful memory that Laszlo didn’t want to visit, but he also didn’t want to hide things from her. If there was anyone he could share and be free as himself, it would be her. So, he took a deep breath, and told his story.

“It was when I was studying at Harvard. All the other young men my age was either courting or having affairs. The worst part was all the talks they had, constant reminders to myself of how no woman could be interested in me, no woman could ever desire to be my wife or lover. So, I buried myself in books, lost in my studies, try to forget the ache in my heart. Then, there was a woman, she had worked in the library, only a year younger than me. She was nice, and after a while, I noticed that she was paying a particular kindness to me, and I thought perhaps I was just imagining it.

“I found myself visiting the library even when I did not need to, just to be near her, and soon, realized that I was developing an infatuation on her. I was just a boy, eager to have someone care for me, see me like other men, and so it wasn’t hard to develop feelings as quickly as I did. I then had it in my head to perhaps ask if I could properly court her, to hope for a chance for love. I came earlier than I usually did and looked for her among the shelves. She was speaking to another man, a fellow student who I had often butted heads with, the pompous ass. That was then I found out the truth. She was his and he had made a bet with her, a bet that she couldn’t get me to fall hopelessly in love with her by the month’s end.”

Laszlo’s voice trembled at the end, the memory fresh and hard to speak of, for this was the first time he had ever told anyone of what happened. Evelina felt her heart break at the idea of someone being that cruel.

“I just ran away, I couldn’t confront her then, I was going through my first heartbreak. Once in the safety of my room, I let out the hurt, the pain and agony that unrequited love gave me. It would be a wound that didn’t heal properly ever since, and so I pushed love so far from me that I had refused to even acknowledge my desire for it, my pathetic need to have someone who cared for me. I couldn’t bear the heartbreak again.”

Laszlo turned to look at her and was shocked to see her crying. He handed her a handkerchief to wipe her eyes and would have apologized, but she spoke first. “That heartless bitch.” Now, it was Laszlo who was shocked to hear her curse. “She didn’t deserve you and I promise, I’ll never do anything as cruel as that. Ever.”

He was touched by her proclamation and helped to wipe her tears away. “Evelina,” he started hesitantly, “Could, would it be alright with you, if we were to properly court?”

She sniffled and nodded as she smiled. “I would love that.”

One would have thought that such a wonderful news would have improved the mood, but sadly, the rest of New York would not forget the events. By the evening, there were many rumors and accusations against her and Laszlo. It was made worse when it was discovered that the “unknown man” was her brother. It was so bad that she couldn’t even reach the opera house without people shooting questioning glares and whispering behind her back. Words such as “ruined”, “shameful”, and “whore” were being associated with her, and it was devastating. She tried to throw herself into the rehearsals, but the nagging part of her mind constantly was thinking of how people would look at her, how they would look at Laszlo.

Laszlo regretted having a phone installed in his home, so did Stevie. He was constantly running up and down to tell the doctor about the phone calls, it was the most running he had ever done in a single day, and by lunchtime, they both have had it. Laszlo had thrown on his robe and quickly, but carefully, hurried down the stairs to the phone and proceeded to yell at the nosy reporters. “You listen here, you pathetic leech of a human being, what happened the other day was an ordeal that should be soon forgotten. Miss Lind is a good and virtuous woman and should not be slandered in such a way. And as soon as I found out who you are, I will make sure you never work ever again!”

Stevie smiled as he watched the doctor get mad. “Wow. You really told him!”

Laszlo hung up the phone and groaned. “This is not what this was intended for! Gossipy hens and slanderers.” A thought came to him and he realized, if people were badgering him on the phone, he couldn’t imagine what they were doing to Evelina, who was out there in the world. “Stevie, help me to change,” Laszlo said as he hurried up the stairs, with Stevie following behind, trying to convince him not to.

If she could have stayed at the opera house for the night, she would have, for she couldn’t bear to go out there and have people say awful things and look at her like she was the scum of the earth. What she hadn’t expected was Laszlo, dressed and waiting for her. “Laszlo! What are you doing? You should be resting.”

“I came to escort you home. I believe it is within my rights as a suitor to walk you to places.” He smiled, trying to mask his concern, but she could see right through it, and still she said not a word. More grateful that he cared enough to stand by her and show everyone what he really felt.

Slipping her arm around his and off they went into the night. He tried to take her mind off the events of the day by asking her how the rehearsals went, and she tried her best, but people passing them by not only glared and whispered, but some even moved across the street to avoid walking by them. After a while, she just stopped talking and merely held onto his arm tighter, trying her best to not cry. A voice called out from the darkness that was directed towards them. “Hey, mister! Be careful with that one, I heard she’ll go for anyone, even her brother!”

Laszlo shot a glance towards the direction of the voice, but he found no one as they most likely ran away. “There’s a chill in the air,” Laszlo softly says, “Let’s take a hansom.” Laszlo hailed one and once they were in, there was a sense of safety from the world, but one cannot hide from the world forever. Instead, Laszlo knew that the best way to show that he didn’t care or rather didn’t believe the rumors, was to carry on as if nothing happened. Reaching back to Sara’s home, Laszlo helped Evelina out and watched as she opened the door. “Evelina, I was wondering, I know it is last minute, but would you like to go to Delmonico’s tonight? I think it’ll do us both a world of good.”

She looked at him amazed. “You still want to be seen with me? Even after what they said, what everyone must think?”

“I don’t care what everyone thinks. I care about you and being with you. I won’t let anyone take that from me. Please say you will.”

Evelina smiled and nodded. “Very well. Come back in an hour. I’ll be ready by then.” She went back into the house, leaving Laszlo to return to his own home to get ready. The phone was ringing when Laszlo got back, making him call out to Stevie who was coming from the kitchen that he would get it and answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Laszlo? It’s Roosevelt. Just checking in on you.”

“Oh, I’m good. Nothing’s broken, but just sore. I am just glad that Evelina, I mean, Miss Lind, is safe.”

“Yes. Well, that is something I wanted to talk to you about. I want to apologize firstly for the details being leaked. I can’t imagine how it happened, but as soon as I know I will deal with it personally.”

“Well, I appreciate that.”

“And um, well, you are aware of what people are saying, I am sure. And you must know I am thinking of you and of your work, and how awful it would be to have something ruin your good name.”

Laszlo pressed his lips together in anger, for he knew where Roosevelt was going with this. “Theodore, I challenged you to a fist fight once, I am not afraid to do it again.”

“Do not get me wrong, Miss Lind seems to be an exceptional woman and of course, people want to hear what they want to hear-”

“Exactly. And the best thing I can do is to refute them and show that I still have faith in her. I shall be taking her to Delmonico’s tonight, and if we should happen to meet there, I would very much like you to say hello to us. Good night, Theodore.” Laszlo hung up the phone and pressed his lips together as he went up to his room.

It had appeared that Laszlo was right, and despite the stares and whisperings, there were still those who believed in the innocence of the situation. Evelina for a moment was terrified that the restaurant would not allow them in because of the rumors, but they didn’t even bat an eye when they walked in and gave Laszlo his usual table. The waiter from the previous time seemed overjoyed to see her again, hoping that they were indeed together, and even let it be known to her that everyone from the kitchen believed in her innocence. It may not have meant much to someone from the higher part of society, but it meant everything to her.

For a good part of the evening, it felt just like it had been before, just them enjoying the evening, despite everyone looking. The real test was when Laszlo say Roosevelt walk in with his wife and wondered what he would do. It was not something Roosevelt could avoid, for their table was next to theirs, so of course, he’d have to acknowledge his friend, if he didn’t want to slight him. “Good evening, Theodore. Edith, you look lovely tonight.”

Edith Roosevelt was a lovely woman who was quite a modern thinker, something that Laszlo admired in her among the usual upper-class woman. “Laszlo, how wonderful to see you. My, those bruises look rather rough.”

Laszlo chuckled, “Yes, but I’ve had worse. Oh, forgive me, I do not believe you have yet to meet Miss Lind. Miss Lind, this is Edith Roosevelt, Theodore’s wife.”

Evelina smiled warmly and gave the polite nod as she was sitting. “How do you do?”

Edith smiled back and enthusiastically answered back. “How do you do? Oh, forgive me, it’s just wonderful to see Laszlo out with a lady. I was almost beginning to give up hope. Theodore,” she said, turning to her husband, “You haven’t said a single word.”

This was the moment of truth. Roosevelt had hopes to become a great politician one day and he knew that the votes and the opinions of the people mattered. But looking down at the sweet and kind eyes of Miss Lind, as well as feeling the steely and cold glare of his friend, he knew that he must do what he felt was right. Damn what people thought, he would not deny what the truth was, and the truth was that Miss Lind is a good woman. Smiling, he took Evelina’s hand and kissed it cordially. “Miss Lind, I am so pleased to properly be introduced to you. I am sorry that our last meeting was rather, well, unusual.”

“Yes, but most certainly appreciated.” Turing to Laszlo, she asked, “Could it not be possible that the Roosevelts' may join us?”

Before Laszlo could say anything, Edith popped in and answered for the men. “Oh, how wonderful! We would love that. Theodore, tell them we’ll be needing two more chairs.”

Although Laszlo wanted to have Evelina to himself for the rest of the dinner, he was still pleased to see that a good friend of his not only came to his senses, but that the stares and whisperings seemed to have lessened and people went about their own business. And just as he had imagined, Evelina won them over with her charm, goodness, and wit, and he barely spoke for he was too busy watching her and absolutely admiring her. By the end of the dinner, the Roosevelts' were so delighted by her and Laszlo that they had invited her to some party they were having, a small affair but still would be pleased to have them.

“You see,” Laszlo said with a sure smile boarder lining on smug as the Roosevelts' walked away, “I told you that not everyone will turn their backs. This whole thing will die down in a week and they’ll find someone else to pester.”

Evelina chuckled. “Sara was indeed right; you are incorrigible when you’ve been proven right.” Instead of taking the carriage, Evelina suggested that they took a walk through the park, her spirits were so high that nothing could bring her down and she wanted to enjoy it for a moment longer. Tonight, it felt as if the stars and moon were shining brighter for her, as if to say that everything will be better from now own. “It’s so beautiful tonight, magical even,” she sighed, laying her head against his arm.

“Quite romantic, to say the least.” Laszlo brought her to a bench to stare up at the stars, and he listened to her as she pointed out the constellations.

“That one there, is Pegasus. A legendary horse from Greek mythology with large wings like a bird, who rode great heroes through many perilous journeys. It is said that Zeus had used the horse to help carry his thunder and lightning, so he had him placed among the stars to keep him close by. Oh, and that one, is Aquarius, the water bearer. He was a son of a king and Zeus thought that such a handsome man belonged in Olympus and had him be the water bearer for the gods. In Egyptian mythology, though, Aquarius is said to the god of the Nile, pouring the water to make the greatest body of water in the world.” She looked over and stopped when she saw him looking at her. “What? Too much?”

“Not at all. I never knew you knew all of that.”

“Oh, I love reading about myths and legends. I know that they aren’t real, but just the idea of knowing all that to understand another’s culture, it’s fascinating. There is one that I adore; when Zeus created humans, he made them with double of everything we had, four arms, four legs, two lips and so forth. Fearing the power that they may contain, he split them in two, making them what we are today, but it meant that the one soul they shared was torn, leaving half inside everyone. They say that we all are looking for our other half still and once we find them, we would know because then we’d feel whole.”

Hearing her tell this story made Laszlo feel his heart race, and unable to stop himself, he reached over to caress her cheek and softly say, “I feel whole with you.” And like a pull of two magnets, they leaned into one another, and softly but sweetly, shared their first kiss. Unlike the other kisses she had in the past (a quick childish kiss, an awkward encounter and theatrical kiss) none of them compared to the feeling she had when she kissed him. It was like finding home after being lost for so long, experiencing something new, everything and yet nothing of what the stories told her. It was better.

Laszlo never had a kiss before. He couldn’t recall the last time he had received a kiss from his own mother and the cordial kisses didn’t count as they barely were there, but this, this shattered and fixed him at the same time. It healed wounds and opened his heart. It felt like what it meant to love and be loved. He went back in, a little less hesitant, but all the same gentle and sweet and it was just as heavenly. When they did pull away and he saw a gleam in her eyes that he felt reflected his own, hope, love and happiness.

Indeed, Evelina was right, tonight was magical.

Tagging: @monsieurbruhl @cazzyimagines @violetmuses @flutterskies @sokoviandelights @rumblelibrary, @fictionlandslanddreams @barnesxnobles @scuttle-buttle @somethingthatsaysbubbles and @alindeluce

#daniel bruhl #daniel brühl #the alienist #laszlo kreizler #fanfiction

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jimsmovieworld · 2 years

Text

HALLOWEEN 2- 1981 ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Picking up immediately after the events of the first movie, Laurie Strode is taken to Haddonfield Memorial Hospital. Despite being shot SIX TIMES, Michael is still alive and out to get her. Although due to a mixup, the police think hes dead for a while as Ben Tramer is killed/blown up while wearing his mask and they think he was Michael.

Lots of things i love about this movie. The setting is perfect, the hospital is a refreshing change of scenery and provides many new options for fun kills for Michael.

Loomis is also at the top of his game working as Michaels psychiatrist/hype man.

Great to see Laurie ofcourse although she doesnt have loads of screentime. Its scary when shes being chased around though and isnt at her full strength.

Michael Myers is portrayed by stunt man/actor Dick Warlock. Although theres a lot i think they get wrong with Michaels character, this is still one of the best Michaels imo. I think the mask is excellent and Warlock does his walk quite well. Its the same mask used in the original but repainted and the size was adjusted.

The first person Michael kills at the start of the movie, the way he springs/jumps into the shot is obviously for a quick jump scare but always really bothers me, theres just no way he would move like that.

Also, the idea of Michael writing the word Samhain in blood just seems ridiculous to me.

Making Laurie and Michael brother and sister in this doesnt bother me as much as it does some people but i do think its better without that, and am glad thats no longer canon.

John Carpenter inially wanted no involvement in a sequel but eventually agreed. He wrote the script with the assistance of "a pack of budweisers" and director went to newcomer Rick Rosenthal.

Rick wanted to match the original movies tone and be light on blood/gore. Carpenter disagreed as the market had been flooded with new bloody slasher movies and he was worried it could be a box office failure without that.

Carpenter re edited the movie and was criticial of Rosenthals input.

Carpenter has since called Halloween 2 "an abomination". Rick Rosenthal later returned to the franchise to direct Halloween Reserection.

While it isnt as good as the original obviously, its an excellent slasher film. Love the music, the characters and the over the top ending.

#halloween #halloween 2 #michael myers #jamie lee curtis #movie #film #horror #scary movie #80s #80s movie

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howtodisassembleyourdeviant · 2 years

Note

13. What’s one random headcanon about your muse that people mightn’t know?

♡ Munday Meme ♡

I'm not really sure. A lot of my headcanons that aren't stated are usually done on the fly, like the canon Connor having 32 similar white button-up shirts, or human Connor having a habit of passing out in public. I like to have explanations for things, so it leads to a lot of spur of the moment decisions that I accept as fact. lol

I guess some lesser-known facts are:

Android:

Connor's favorite fruit is peaches, with strawberries being a close second (@detective-phck makes him thirium jello cubes as snacks since he knows how much he wishes he could try human food, which is how he learned of a lot of different tastes. Otherwise, it comes from flavored drinks.)

When intoxicated and left to his own devices, Connor is a 'wandering drunk', as in he will disappear from the group and, if no one finds him, could end up just about anywhere.

Connor is supposed to go in for annual maintenance, but he won't go.

Connor is afraid of leaving Detroit, and even more worried about going out into the wilderness, because if something happens, he won't have access to parts for his model.

Connor is terrified of flying (not really a surprise).

The original Connor deviated moments before he shut down after falling from the roof. Connor has the corrupted memories and sometimes has nightmares about it.

Human:

Hank's wife didn't agree to adopt Connor and wasn't ready to raise a child. She tried her best, but Connor didn't grow attached to her. In fact, an off-handed comment about his scars, not meant in offense, only made him more self-conscious.

In the event that Hank, for whatever reason, wasn't the one to adopt him, Connor was adopted by another police officer that, while Connor was in college, was shot down in the line of duty.

Connor can flick a cigarette and catch it in his mouth. He also likes to do many slight of hand tricks, usually involving his cigarettes or coins, for fun.

He has a favorite sub sandwich shop across town. When his dad wants to guarantee his boy to eat, he'll go out of his way to pick up Connor's favorite sandwich, usually masked as a reward for all his hard work. It's the only time Connor will stop working specifically to eat something.

Some of his shirts are just solid colors, but he has many that look like they came from Hank's closet (some of them have). They have competitions over which will find the weirdest shirt and usually gift at least one to each other for Christmas.

#Munday Meme #Only a little late

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 4 years

Text

Broken Mirror: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, and angst

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

Feedback is gold, and it’s the only currency I take

"When a good man is hurt, all who would be called good must suffer with him." - Euripides

Thinking about going on a date with Spencer is way different than actually doing it. Gideon got you two the good seats even if it is a first come first serve. However, you made sure to arrive early enough to get a seat by the exit so you didn't have to waste time just sitting around while everyone else leaves. Gideon picked a good day as well since they were playing a two special horror movies, Psycho and The Shining. Spencer hadn’t seen either of them, but you have and you knew you would have a good time.

“Okay, I got literally every sweet thing they had,” you announced, climbing into the bed of your truck. Spencer didn’t have a car since he preferred to take public transportation to work. Sometimes you would be his ride if he asked for it, so it was natural that you two take your car. It was better anyway since you had a 4x4 off road truck with a comfortable bed if you laid down blankets and pillows, which you did. Spencer leaned on the back of the truck as you sat next to him, handing him the candy he requested.

“I didn’t know you liked sweet stuff.”

“Sweetheart, my whole life revolves around sugar,” you chuckled, pausing when you realize what you just said. “Sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“For calling you sweetheart. It just came out,” you chuckled nervously.

“It’s okay. I like it,” he smiled.

“Great, okay,” you immediately felt better.

“So, what do we do here?”

“You’ve never been to a drive-in theater before?”

“Never.”

“Well, some people stay inside the car with the windows rolled down, but that’s only if they have a bench for a seat so they can sit really close to each other. I don’t have that so I chose the bed. We can sit anywhere we want,” you began to demonstrate by moving all around the trunk to show him before settling right… next… to… him, “even here.” You go to move, but he placed a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

“You can stay here if you want.”

“Oh, okay, sure,” you cleared your throat, trying to get the awkwardness out of the way. It was clear Spencer didn’t do this too often which was fine, but you wanted to move past the awkward phase.

“Aren’t these movies two hours long each?”

“Yeah, or more, which I don’t know why Gideon thought getting us tickets for this day was a smart idea. He knows I fall asleep during movies all the time.”

“How do you know Gideon?” he asked. Your intentions were to lean against the car, but you shifted too much and ended up against his side, which he didn’t seem to care. Opening the bag of candy you got, you popped one in your mouth and chewed.

“He was the lead agent on my case,” you finished once you swallowed.

“What do you mean?”

“My sister was murdered by her boss since he kept harassing her at work and she would always deny him. He was the one who helped me through losing her. I mean, she wasn’t my blood sister since my parents were fostering a bunch of kids, but she was my sister. The man killed himself before Gideon and his team could get to him, but at least we know he did it. He had the whole plan and more laid out at his apartment.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,” he said quietly.

“You couldn’t have. It’s fine. The more I talk about it, the less it hurts. I was the one who led Gideon to his apartment since I saw the whole thing after it happened. After that, Gideon and I stayed in touch and would occasionally ask me for help on cases. It’s why he wanted me to join the BAU.”

“That must have been so difficult.”

“It was, but I’m glad I have it. I get to help a lot of people because of it,” you grinned. The first movie started playing, and you and Spencer got comfortable enough to sit through four and a half hours of both movies.

“Did you know due to how repressed Americans were in the 1950s, Psycho is actually the first American film to show a toilet on screen. Consequently, it’s the first American film in which we hear the toilet flush,” you informed him.

“I didn’t know that, no,” he chuckled.

Halfway through the movie, Spencer began to feel your weight getting heavier as you gave up holding yourself up as to not crush him. He looked over at you to see your eyes closed and your mouth parted. He didn’t want to move for fear of waking you, but he couldn’t help but give a smile at your state.

Walking into work the next day, you couldn’t help but recall the events of yours and Spencer’s date. You did fall asleep halfway in the first movie, and you didn't know why he didn’t wake you since it was supposed to be a date. Nonetheless, when it was all over, you two got some ice cream which was way better. Gideon did a good job sparking up the flame between you and Spencer, but it was now up to you two to keep it lit.

“You fell asleep?” JJ laughed as you, her, and Penelope walked down the hallway to the bullpen.

Of course, you told your two best friends what happened on the date. You three were getting closer which is why you thought it would be good to engage in some healthy gossip.

“Yes, I did. I always do. But Spencer and I went out for ice cream afterwards which was way better,” you chuckled.

“Did he kiss you?” Penelope asked with a grin.

“No, he didn’t. Well, not on the lips. He did kiss me on my cheek, but it’s a first date and I don’t even know if it’ll happen again. I mean, he hasn’t really talked about it. We haven’t had time to really talk about what this might mean. I can tell he’s nervous and tense which can either mean he’s trying to find a reason to let me down gently, or he likes me but won’t do anything about it,” you explained as you walked into the bullpen.

Spencer was on the other end of it talking with Derek, and when you two made eye contact, you gave him a small wave. He stiffly waved back, and you looked away with a sigh.

“His emotional state is all over the place, but I don’t know what it means,” you shrugged.

“Reid, Morgan, Y/L/N,” Hotch announced when he and Elle exited his office, “document's up on the screen regarding the kidnapping of Trish Davenport.”

“That’s my cue,” Penelope left the group.

“Keep me updated,” JJ whispered.

“Have you read them yet?” Spencer asked as you three walked up the stairs to follow the duo.

“Yeah, I got a copy from the document examiner.”

“What does it say?” you wondered.

“That we've got until 8:00 tonight,” he sighed, closing the door once everyone was inside the briefing room. The note that was left for Evan Davenport, the father of the kidnapped girl, was up on the screen.

“You will follow instructions carefully. You will do this to ensure the safety of your daughter. You will wait for the call. You will answer the call at 8:00 P.M. You will write down the instructions and follow them to the letter,” Spencer read it word for word.

“That gives us less than 9 hours to get to Connecticut, work up victimology on Trish Davenport, and prepare her father for the ransom drop.”

“How do we know the letter is real?” you asked.

“The handwriting is a match for Trish's,” he explained as he showed it. “He dictated it to her, and they found saline on the paper.”

“Her tears,” Gideon muttered.

“He never says ‘I’. He doesn't say, ‘I will call’. He says, ‘you will answer the call’. He's distancing himself from the kidnapping. If he said ‘I’, he'd be taking responsibility for it,” Derek noted.

“There's also another missing element. No mention of the police.”

“Ransom notes almost always forbid police involvement,” Elle stated.

“So, is he expecting law enforcement to get involved?” you wondered.

“Well, if he's expecting us, let's not disappoint him,” Gideon smiled.

“Is everyone familiar with the father?” Hotch asked as he passed out the case files while the plane was in the air.

“Evan Davenport, U.S. Attorney, executive assistant southern district, New York, widower. He assigned U.S. Marshals three times in the past ten years due to death threats,” Spencer spit out the facts.

"Is the protective detail still current?” Derek inquired.

“Around the clock, but Trish declined protection when she turned eighteen.”

“But why kill the boyfriend?” you asked, crossing your legs in your seat.

“Well, if I'm gonna kidnap someone I know, I have to take out whoever's with them. It says here she's got a sister,” Derek stated.

“Cheryl.”

“Any problems? Were they close?”

“Yeah, they’re identical twins,” you showed everyone the picture of both sisters side by side. “Which makes me think was Trish the target or was Cheryl?”

wanna be tagged? add yourself to this document! if your tag doesn’t work, find out why!

@averyhotchner @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @fan-girl-97 @paulaern @inkstainedwritergirl @estrela-rogers @abitchforjay @kwbaby24 @redsalv20 @joonie-centric @havesaltwilltravel @spencerreid-mgg @sixpencespencee

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stalkfilm · 3 years

Photo

𝗪𝗛𝗢 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗣𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗜𝗕𝗟𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧? — 𝘈 𝘚𝘊𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘔 𝟤 𝘎𝘜𝘐𝘋𝘌.

exactly what it says on the tin ( or the title ) — in this post i’m going to be breaking down the events of scream 2 and delving into mickey’s role in each crime. i made a similar post on my archive and the general consensus was that people, especially those not as well-versed in mickey’s canon, found the insight it provided to be helpful so that’s why i’m here again for take two.

with the exception of scream 3, the scream movies all follow the pattern of two killers conspiring together — in the case of scream 2, it’s debbie loomis and mickey altieri who team up to don the infamous ghostface costume. naturally, two killers per movie tends to raise the question amongst fans: who was responsible for each kill? — unsurprisingly, it’s mickey doing a lot of the grunt work in scream 2, but i’m getting ahead of myself; let’s look at this one scene at a time.

𝘮𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘴 & 𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘴. our first two unlucky victims; these two sweethearts meet their grisly end at an advance screening of stab. maureen doesn’t particularly want to be there but phil reminds her that hey, at least their tickets were free. there’s no official confirmation but it can be reasonably assumed that a certain film student was the one who hooked phil up with two freebie tickets; especially when you consider the fact that mickey had selected maureen and phil as victims well in advance and needed to ensure they would be in the exact location he wanted them to be that night. it can also be assumed that both mickey and deb were in attendance at the theatre that night, as the footage that the killer took of maureen and phil we see later in the movie was shot from the passenger window of a car. the most logical explanation? mickey was recording and debbie was in the driver’s seat, likely ready to act as a getaway driver.

now for the actual murders. the scoreboard is currently reading mickey 2 - debbie 0 as mickey is responsible for both deaths here. phil is the first to die, the method of murder ( driving a knife through a bathroom stall divider and into phil’s ear ) pretty much being enough to confirm that this was mickey, simply due to the sheer amount of physical strength the killer would need. moreover, since mickey also changes into phil’s clothes to sneak into the movie screening, it just makes a lot more sense that he would be the one to kill him.

as for maureen, we know for a fact that this one was all on mickey. we see ghostface deceive her by wearing her boyfriend’s clothes, fooling her into thinking it’s phil for just long enough to be able to attack. as an aside, it’s interesting to note that this is one of the riskiest kills of the franchise, taking place in an extremely crowded cinema. the audience doesn’t know it yet but this is a nice allusion to mickey being the culprit as he is the only ghostface who actively wants to be caught and go to trial for his crimes.

𝘤𝘪𝘤𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘳. some people try to attribute this murder to debbie but as far as i’m concerned, it’s pretty concrete that debbie was the one on the phone and mickey was the one who attacked and killed cici. why am i so sure? four major reasons. — a) we know there have to be two killers involved as at the exact moment we see one ghostface sneak into the sorority house, another is talking on the phone to cici. logically it just makes more sense that if both debbie and mickey were present at the sorority house and hiding in the bushes, debbie would be the one to make the call while mickey, who is physically stronger and is more likely to know the layout of the house, goes inside. b) the way in which cici was lifted into the air and thrown off of the balcony would requite a level of physical strength that i just can’t see debbie as having. c) ghostface is significantly taller than cici - far more in line with the height of mickey than debbie. c) we hear the killer grunt several times during the attack and if you listen, those grunts are 100% male.

similarly, i believe the same method was adopted for the subsequent attack on sidney; debbie likely made the phone call while mickey was the one to physically attack. while we see mickey leave the house with everyone else shortly before the call, i think the odds of him retrieving his costume from a hidden location and doubling back are far more likely than debbie making the call from the front porch. af course, mickey could be the one of the phone in this instance but i think youtuber zack cherry made a compelling argument for debbie being responsible for every phone call as the one in control.

𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴. this is the only death that mickey played no part in. it’s confirmed in canon that mrs loomis killed randy in a fit of rage after he began badmouthing billy. she was responsible for both the call and the kill, with mickey not being present.

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘢𝘭 & 𝘭𝘪𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴. don’t think that just because mickey wasn’t involved in randy’s murder he wasn’t keeping busy. There’s a lot of uncertainty amongst viewers regarding the dress rehearsal attack and whether it really happened or if it was simply a hallucination sidney was having. personally, i consider the fact we actually see ghostface leaving the stage to be a decent indicator that it did really happen, especially as soon after we learn that mickey was supposed to be on duty next to watch sidney but had switched shifts with derek because he ‘had to edit’. once again, this brazen display of recklessness ( attacking sidney on stage ) serves as a hint that the killer isn’t worried about the prospect of being caught. after this attack it’s still not time for a break, mickey makes his way over to the library where he later sends sidney threatening messages over the computer.

𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘴 & 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴. we know from canon that debbie was the ghostface terrorising gale and dewey on campus while mickey was the one who went in pursuit of sidney. he attacked both officers, slashing the throat of officer andrews and hitting officer richards with the police car. ultimately it was a metal pipe being driven through his skull that killed richards, but this was as a direct result of mickey’s driving .

𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘮𝘤𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘭. this death follows immediately on from the last two, with mickey breaking out some sick stealth moves to catch hallie off guard and stab her four times. this is the final murder before the big reveal .

𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘬 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘮𝘢𝘯. considering this one takes place after mickey’s identity is revealed, there’s really no need for discussion on who was responsible here. but shooting his best friend in the chest? brutal.

as you can see, despite technically being debbie’s accomplice, mickey did the majority of the dirty work. ah well, at least he gets to take a dirt nap now.

#THIS GOT SO LONG WTF #does it even make sense? who knows #long post //#´ 🔪 ﹠ headcanon. ━━━ 𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵. ❞#˚・` 🔪 ﹠ study. ━━━ mickey is a sick fuck who wants to get caught. ❞

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olivemac · 3 years

Text

heartbeat | chapter five | b.b.

Summary | When Steve Rogers asks Kate Stark to find the Winter Soldier, she gets too involved.

Notes | Captain America: Civil War re-write, essentially. Starts just after the events of CA: Winter Soldier.

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x fem!oc, Bucky Barnes x Stark!oc

Genre | romance

Rating | explicit

Story Warnings | mild angst, fluff, romance tropes, so many romance tropes, coarse language, alcohol use, canon-typical violence, smut (m/f), oral sex (f&m receiving), 18+ ONLY

Chapter Warnings | canon-typical violence, cheeeeeeese factor, mentions of alcohol, mild language

Citation | Russo, J., & Russo, A. (2016). Captain America: Civil War. Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures.

Translations:

Ich will dich küssen. = I want to kiss you.

Bitte. = Please.

A/N #1 |The only German speaker in my house is my husband, but I didn't have him check the translations because they're so short. So, if they're wrong, blame Google.

A/N #2 | I've been working to update this story daily, but last night I accidentally deleted my work on the last two chapters. I tried everything I could to recover it, but it looks like I'll be rewriting them. So, no update for a couple of days, at least. And send me positive vibes because I'm going insane over it. Haha.

master list | AO3 link

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prev chapter

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In Vienna, Steve's just finished a call with Natasha when his phone buzzes with a text from Kate. He hasn't heard from her in months, maybe a year. He frowns.

911. Call me. I found him.

Kate picks up on the first ring. "I'm sending you coordinates. He didn't do this," she says before Steve can get a word in.

"How do you know?" Steve asks.

She pauses, then says, "I've been with him in Bucharest for eight months."

Steve sighs and pushes his sunglasses up a bit so he can massage the bridge of his nose. He can feel a headache coming on. "Sit tight. I'll be there soon," he tells Kate.

He hangs up and meets Sam at a coffee shop nearby.

"Kate found him," Steve tells Sam.

"Where?" Sam asks.

"Bucharest. She's there. With Bucky. Has been for some time. Says he didn't do this."

Sam shakes his head, then asks, "Nat tell you to stay out of it? Might have a point."

"He'd do it for me," Steve says.

"1945, maybe," Sam says. "I just want to make sure we consider all our options. The people that shoot at you usually wind-up shooting at me."

Sharon joins them, discreetly. "Tips have been pouring in since that footage went public. Everybody thinks the Winter Solder goes to their gym," she tells Steve.

Steve interrupts her, "I know where he is." Sharon frowns. Steve continues, "I’ve had someone looking for him for the past two years."

"Then you don't need this," Sharon says, indicating the file in her hands.

"Thank you," Steve says.

"You're going to have to hurry. We have orders to shoot on sight."

_____

"Cap," Kate acknowledges when she opens the apartment door for Steve.

"You should have told me," Steve frowns, following her into the space.

Kate sighs, "I didn't want you to get hurt. I wanted to know what he remembered."

"You could have gotten hurt," Steve stresses.

"Bucky wouldn't hurt me."

Steve looks pointedly at the bruises on her neck, and Kate blushes but stays silent.

"So, he's Bucky again?" he asks.

"Yes," Kate replies. "He's not here, by the way. And he wasn't in Vienna."

"Interpol, CIA, MI-6, everyone thinks he was there."

"Well, he wasn't," she says sharply. "He was here. With me."

"Can you prove it?" Steve asks.

Kate bristles. "You don't believe me."

"You went after him without telling me!"

She doesn't respond. "His apartment is next door. He'll be back soon," she says, leading the way.

"Kate," Steve says, looking at her, "They’re coming for him. But I'll do what I can do hold them off."

"I know," she nods.

_____

Bucky scans the street. He left Kate in bed, naked and warm, and he wants to get back to her. But a news vendor is staring at him with recognition, and it makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. As he meets the man's eyes cautiously, the vendor turns and runs from the kiosk. Fuck, Bucky thinks. He picks up the newspaper and his blood runs cold. Winter Soldier wanted for Vienna bombing. He needs to get back to Kate. Then he needs to get out of the country.

_____

Steve looks around Bucky's apartment. There's a mattress on the floor, the sheets disheveled, but not much else. Steve wonders how much time Bucky spent here versus next door with Kate. He lifts a notebook off the top of the fridge and opens it. His own face looks up at him from a museum brochure.

Sam’s voice comes through on the comms, "Head's up, Cap. German Special Forces approaching from the south."

"Understood," Steve says. When he turns, Bucky is standing behind him. "Do you know me?"

Bucky stares at him. "You're Steve. I read about you in a museum."

Sam is in Steve's ear, "They've set the perimeter."

“I know you’re nervous,” Steve tells Bucky, “and you have plenty of reason to be. But you’re lying."

“I wasn't in Vienna. I don't do that anymore," Bucky responds firmly.

"They're entering the building," Sam warns.

"That's what Kate said," Steve says.

"Where is she?" Bucky asks, his jaw clenching.

"She's safe. With my colleague," Steve points to his earpiece. Bucky nods. Steve continues, "The people who think you were in Vienna are coming here now. And they're not planning on taking you alive."

"That's smart. Good strategy," Bucky says. He can hear footsteps above them.

_____

On the roof, Sam looks at Kate as he tells Steve, "They're on the roof. We're compromised."

"You go," she says to Sam. "I'm a civilian; they won't see me as a threat." Sam nods and takes off.

Kate moves in the opposite direction. Two members of the German Special Forces move slowly in front of her, their backs to her.

"Officers," she says and as the one closest to her turns, she clocks him the nose with her fist. He reels backwards, and the soldier behind him charges at her. Kate sweeps his legs out from under him but a third soldier she didn't see has a hold of her before she can react. She grunts and pulls against his hands around her wrists. He says something into his comms and leads her to the stairs.

She doesn't see Sam or Steve again until she's thrown into the back of police van with them. A man she doesn't recognize sits in front of Steve. Steve turns and meets her eyes, and she gives him a reassuring smile. He's stony faced. She wants to ask about Bucky, but she already knows the answer. She stays quiet.

_____

"I thought you were eat-pray-loving your way through Europe!" Tony half-shouts at Kate when they're reunited at the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre in Berlin.

"Romania is Europe," she says. She knows it's not the time to be a smartass, but she can't help it when Tony is involved.

Tony's face is red with anger. "I was picturing day drinking at the Louvre, not shacking up with a cyborg assassin!"

"Tony," Steve warns.

Tony turns to him, "No, you stay out of this. You've done enough."

Beside him, Natasha Romanoff stays silent, studying the bruises on Kate's neck.

"You're lucky they're not charging you with something," he says. "You assaulted an officer. I'm having everything in that apartment of yours packed up and sent to New York. It'll be waiting for you when you arrive. We'll talk about this later."

Kate scoffs, "What? You're sending me to my room?"

"Yes," Tony responds before turning his back to her.

_____

"He could have killed you," Natasha hisses when she finally gets Kate alone in the women's bathroom.

"He wouldn't," Kate replies.

Nat points to Kate's bruised neck, and Kate at least has the decency to look chagrined. “I hid who I was," she says. "He found out. He thought I was HYDRA."

Nat studies Kate's face. "You're in love with him," she says, shock evident in her voice.

"Nat."

"You're in love with him," she repeats. "Katie, this is a bad idea."

Kate bristles at the nickname Nat only uses when she's playing big sister and doling out advice. "Nat, please," Kate says, but she's not sure what exactly she's asking for. She needs someone to understand, but she also doesn't want the sympathy or disappointment she sees in Natasha's eyes.

"Tony isn't going to like this," Nat finally says.

"When has he ever liked a guy I've dated?" Kate asks, smiling.

Nat smirks, then says, "I need to get back in there."

"I'm right behind you," Kate says. "Just give me a minute."

In the bathroom, finally alone, Kate splashes water on her face and takes a few deep breaths. She looks at herself in the mirror. Her hair's a mess and there are dark circles forming under her hazel eyes. She runs her fingers through her curls and sighs.

Then the lights go out.

Kate pauses for a moment, expecting the lights to come back on, but when a siren sounds, she knows something's up. And it probably involves Bucky. When she opens the bathroom door, people are streaming past. Kate uses the chaos to shake the agent that was assigned to watch her and exits the building during the evacuation.

_____

Steve texts Kate the coordinates to an abandoned warehouse, and she makes her way there. She knows everyone will be looking for Captain America, the Falcon, and the Winter Soldier, so it's easy enough for her to move through the city undetected.

When she arrives, Steve is waiting at the door.

"What the hell happened?" she asks him.

"The psychiatrist wasn't with Joint Counter Terrorism. He triggered the Winter Soldier," Steve says.

She pushes past him to find Sam watching over an unconscious Bucky, his titanium arm clamped in an industrial vice. Bucky groans and begins to stir. Kate kneels in front of him.

"Watch it," Sam warns.

“Hi,” she says. She takes Bucky’s face in her hands, looking into his eyes and checking for signs of concussion. “There you are.”

“Hi,” Bucky replies softly. He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

"Hey, Cap!" Sam calls.

Kate drops her hands when Steve enters, but stays kneeling in front of Bucky.

Bucky looks up at Steve. "Steve," he says.

"Which Bucky am I talking to?" Steve asks.

Bucky pauses. "Your mom's name was Sarah," he says, and then chuckles, "You used to wear newspapers in your shoes."

"Can't read that in a museum," Steve says.

Sam raises his eyebrows skeptically. "Just like that, we're supposed to be cool?"

"What did I do?" Bucky asks.

"Enough," Steve answers.

"Oh, God, I knew this would happen," Bucky sighs, "Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words."

Kate squeezes Bucky's right hand in her own.

"Who was he?" Steve questions.

Bucky shakes his head, "I don't know."

"People are dead,” Steve tells him. “The bombing, the setup. The doctor did all that just to get 10 minutes with you. I need you to do better than 'I don't know'.”

Bucky pauses. "He wanted to know about Siberia. Where I was kept. He wanted to know exactly where."

"Why would he need to know that?" Steve asks.

"Because I'm not the only Winter Soldier."

Kate looks at Steve. "Can we get him out of this thing, please?"

Steve acquiesces and when Bucky is free, he rotates his shoulder to work out the kinks. Kate takes his metal hand in hers and kisses his palm. Steve hates to deny him this, deny Bucky any bit of affection Kate is willing to show him, but they need answers.

"Who were they?" Steve asks.

"Their most elite death squad. More kills than anyone in HYDRA history. And that was before the serum," Bucky says.

"They all turn out like you?" Sam asks.

"Worse."

"The doctor, could he control them?" Steve questions.

"Enough," Bucky answers, looking down.

Steve looks at Sam. "Said he wanted to see an empire fall."

"With these guys he could do it," Bucky says. "They speak 30 languages, can hide in plain sight, infiltrate, assassinate, destabilize. They can take a whole country down in one night. You'd never see them coming."

Sam steps over to Steve. "This would have been a lot easier a week ago," he says.

"If we call Tony," Steve starts.

"No, he won't believe us," Sam says.

"Even if he did..." Steve trails off.

"Who knows if the Accords would let him help," Sam finishes.

Steve sighs, "We're on our own."

"Maybe not," Sam says. "I know a guy."

While Steve and Sam make plans, Kate watches Bucky closely.

"I'm sorry," she whispers to him.

Bucky shakes his head, "You don't have anything to be sorry for."

She smiles softly. "I'm still sorry."

"Make it up to me," he says, echoing her words from their last night together.

She leans up and kisses him gently, and Bucky drops his hands to her waist and pulls her up onto his knee, deepening the kiss. His hands move up to cup her face and when they pull apart, he leans his forehead against hers.

"Not the time!" Sam says from across the room.

Steve is almost blushing.

Kate looks sheepish as she stands from Bucky's lap. He watches her. He hadn't told them about where the super soldier serum came from, but he would have to eventually. For now, he pushes the thought down and takes Kate's hand in his, following Sam and Steve out of the warehouse.

_____

Sharon meets the four of them under an overpass just outside the city to hand over Captain America's shield and the Falcon's wings. Sam, Kate, and Bucky stay in the car to give Sharon and Steve some privacy.

Bucky stares at Sam in front of him in the passenger seat. "Can you move your seat up?"

"No," Sam says without looking back.

Bucky frowns and slides closer to Kate's side of the car. She rolls her eyes, lifts off the seat of the small Volkswagen, and climbs over Bucky's lap, moving behind Sam. "Play nice, you two," she says.

The three of them watch from the car as Steve and Sharon share a kiss.

"I'm starting to feel like a damn fifth wheel," Sam says, throwing up his hands.

Kate clamps a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing, and Bucky smiles at her.

____

Later that night, Steve pulls the car into the back lot of a seedy motel.

"I'll go in," Kate says, getting out. "I speak enough German to book us rooms. Plus, no one's looking for me, and I have cash."

When she comes back out, she tosses a room key to Sam through the open car window and says, "Two rooms. Right next to each other."

"Thanks, Kate," Steve says. "Get some sleep, everyone."

"You speak German?" Bucky asks when he and Kate are alone.

"Better than I speak Romanian," she says. "But my French is best."

Bucky stares at her.

"I spent an entire Octoberfest in Munich one year," Kate says. "Picked up a few phrases. Mostly ‘Can I get another beer?’ and ‘No, I won’t go home with you,’ but I get by.”

"Ich will dich küssen," Bucky says, reaching up to cup her cheek.

"Bitte," Kate laughs.

Bucky leans forward and captures her lips with his own. He runs his tongue along her bottom lip until she opens her mouth for him. His hands move to grip her waist tightly, and she slides her own arms around his neck.

They’re interrupted by a knock at the door.

Kate finds Steve standing outside. He pushes the door open wider with one arm and asks, “Do you mind if I talk to Bucky?”

Kate looks at Bucky and says, “I’ll be next door bothering Sam.” Then she ducks under Steve’s arm and out the door.

Steve walks into the room slowly. “How you holding up?” he asks, looking at Bucky.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” Bucky says, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I know, pal,” Steve says, sitting beside him. He claps Bucky on the back. “But I told you I’d be here to the end of the line.”

“Steve…” Bucky starts, unable to look at him. He doesn’t finish the thought.

They sit in silence for a minute, until Steve says, “So…Kate….” It’s half question, half statement.

Bucky chuckles, “Yeah. Kate.”

“How did that happen?” Steve asks.

“Apart from when you called me Bucky in D.C., she was the first person to look at me in seventy years. I mean, actually look at me, see me, talkto me.” Bucky’s quiet for a moment. “Plus, she’s a knockout,” he says, and Steve sees the glimmer of his old friend in Bucky’s eyes. “And she can cook,” Bucky adds.

Steve laughs. “Your mom was always a great cook,” he says.

Grief flashes across Bucky’s face before he can stop it.

“I know it’s hard,” Steve says, “coming back and everyone being…gone.”

Bucky nods.

“But you’ve got me,” Steve continues, “and Kate. And Sam, too.”

Bucky snorts. “I don’t think he’s my biggest fan.”

Steve chuckles. “He’ll come around.” He stands up. “Speaking of Sam, I should probably go rescue him from Kate. The last time I left them alone, she hacked into his phone and changed all his contacts to Harry Potter characters because he said he hadn’t read the books.”

“What the hell is Harry Potter?” Bucky says.

“You’ve got a lot to catch up on,” Steve says. “But first, let’s deal with this doctor."

Bucky nods, and Steve leaves him alone. A minute later, Kate returns. She kicks her shoes off at the door and throws herself down on the bed beside Bucky.

"I'm exhausted," she says, closing her eyes.

Bucky stands and flips the lights off before shedding his jeans and shirt and joining Kate on the bed again.

"Come here," he says, reaching for her. His fingers find the button of her jeans, popping it open and pushing them down her hips. She kicks them off her legs, and when Bucky throws them off the side of the bed, he pulls her tightly against his chest. "Sleep," he murmurs against her hair and presses a kiss to the top of her head. And they both fall asleep to the sound of the other’s heartbeat.

_____

next chapter

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #sergeant barnes #bucky barnes x oc #bucky x oc #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky x ofc #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes romance

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itsthenovelteafactor · 4 years

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Superhero Gothic

Thanks to everyone who responded to my previous post (special shoutout to @jeyfeather1234 💛 ) about superheroes and gothic media! I know it’s been, like, a month, but here we go.

Here’s a bit of a look into some common gothic themes, and how they apply to Doom Patrol, The Boys, Watchmen (2019), and The Umbrella Academy. This one’s a bit long, not gonna lie, but I hope you enjoy!

Part I: Let’s Talk About Gothic Media

There is not actually an all-encompassing definition for gothic media, or even a universally agreed-upon one. You’re probably familiar with some well-known gothic works (think Dracula, Frankenstein, Edgar Allen Poe, Stephen King) but there is a lot of debate on what exactly makes them gothic.

There are some common themes in gothic works, though: families/characters under the control of a tyrannical paterfamilias, the crumbling of the established order/estate, long-buried secrets that have consequences in the present, and supernatural events that are stand-ins for/reflective of the emotional state/past actions of the characters.

(Note: these aren’t all the themes of gothic works or even most of them, but for purposes here, I’d like to limit this analysis to them. I’d love to talk about other themes/ideas, though, if anyone has them. 😊)

So… superheroes (quick overview in case you haven’t watched any of them… spoiler warnings for the rest of this discussion)

Doom Patrol:

Five misfit superhumans attempt to rescue their mentor figure when he is kidnapped by an old enemy.

They are very, very bad at it.

Also features a singing horse head, a sentient nonbinary teleporting street (who is by far the best character) and the narrator is the fourth-wall breaking series villain.

Beautifully weird but will also emotionally devastate you. Criminally underrated, tbh.

Watchmen (2019):

Story takes place after the canon of the graphic novel which is too much to summarize.

Alternate history (that should really feel more fictitious than it does) where white supremacist organization the Seventh Cavalry, masked police officers, and former superheroes in hiding all collide in Tulsa Oklahoma

Swept the Emmys this year and ABSOLUTELY DESERVED TO

The Umbrella Academy:

Washed up former child superheroes are forced to reunite when their father dies under mysterious circumstances

Time travel, dysfunctional siblings, and a killer soundtrack

Basically a family drama with the superhero story as secondary (complimentary)

Probably the most obviously gothic of all of these it is aesthetic AF

The Boys:

Superheroes exist but they are corporate sellouts under the control of evil company Not-Amazon (AKA Vought)

Regular human protagonists try to hold them accountable for their actions with varying (read: usually minimal) success

Yes, it’s the one from those weird ads earlier this year

Billy Joel!!

Part II: Niles Caulder, Ozymandias, and Other Terrible Father Figures

The Tyrannical Paterfamilias:

Does not always mean a father figure explicitly, often relating to the notion of a patriarchal tradition, or family inheritance that plays a role in controlling the main characters.

Sometimes, it is a father figure.

Sometimes, it is a representative of patriarchal tradition/male head of pseudo-family unit.

So, uh, role call:

Reginald Hargreeves (even in death) holds power over his children, and has shaped all of them into the adults they have become, and that drives the majority of the conflict. Each of the major character individually grapples with the after-effects of his abuse. Luther feels the need to be the leader and protect everyone and alienates his allies as a consequence. Diego constantly asserts himself as a hero (often to dangerous extremes) because it is the only way he was ever valued. Allison has to teach herself boundaries and responsible use of her powers after he encouraged her to abuse them for years. Klaus turns to drugs to cope with his childhood trauma. Five disobeyed his father with disastrous consequences and is constantly fighting to not become him. Vanya spent her entire childhood in the background, and never learned to assert herself in a healthy way. Thanks, Reggie.

Homelander says that The Seven are like a family. While whether or not this is accurate (it isn’t) is up for debate, he does occupy the tyrannical paterfamilias roles incredibly well. Homelander controls every member of the Seven, threatening them and their loved ones whenever they step out of line (read: do not do exactly what he wants in the exact way he wants them to do it.) He is also very closely tied with conservative/patriarchal rhetoric in-universe and at one point dates a literal Nazi.

William Butcher less evil than most of the other characters on this list but the bar is also like, on the ground. Butcher tries to control the Boys in a similar way (Butcher and Homelander are character foils, okay? it’s actually pretty neat). He’s perfectly willing to sacrifice them in pursuit of his own goals, disregards their points of view and the well-being of their loved ones, and tries to cut loose anyone who disagrees with his methods (recall when Hughie tried to rescue his friends at the end of s1 and Butcher… punched him in the face? Yeah, that.) The difference is that the Boys can push back against his without being, you know, brutally murdered. (And also the Butcher isn’t a literal monster; I’m not anti-Butcher, okay? He’s an interesting character and the fact that he seems constantly on the verge of becoming that which he hates most is part of what makes him interesting.)

Guess what, folks? It’s hating Niles Caulder hours. He engineered accidents to turn the main characters into his test subjects, and then kept them conveniently hidden away in his large manor. Stole their autonomy and independence but paints himself as a benevolent father figure. And that’s not even including what he does to his actual daughter, Dorothy. He’s terrified of her growing up (read: becoming a young woman) and so he locks her away for almost 100 years and, when she is freed, yells at her constantly and makes her terrified of showing any signs of maturation (even though she’s 111 and clearly tired of being written off as a child).

The relationship between Ozymandias and his daughter, Lady Trieu, is integral to the final act of Watchmen. Heralded as the “smartest man in the world,” Ozymandias refused to acknowledge his daughter as his until he needed something from her. While Lady Trieu is more self-sufficient and independent than some of the applications of this trope, she goes to great lengths to prove herself, first to him, and then to herself when he rejects her.

Part III: Been a Long Time Gone (Constantinople)

Gothic fiction is often associated with change, and particularly, the collapse of established systems of power. For example, many works like The House of the Seven Gables and The Fall of the House of Usher take place in old, crumbling manor houses. There is a reason for this! These kinds of estates are remnants of a past that is irreversibly gone, and their continued presence in decrypt forms serves as a reminder.

Each of the four series takes place at a moment, either on a wide scale or on a personal scale (or both!), in which an established order is being questioned, and the constant reminders of that failed order are used to gothic effect.

The Umbrella Academy plays this most directly (In fact, there are TONS of parallels between the end of s1 of TUA and House of Usher that I don’t have the time to get into right now... lmk if you want that meta). We can see the Hargreeves mansion as a very literal example of this. While not worn down, the house is notably both very large and very empty. Shelves are filled with merchandise for a superhero team that disbanded over a decade prior, and portraits of a family that no longer speaks to each other. None of the family members ever seem truly comfortable or at ease in the house, and for good reason - every back corner is a reminder of their incredibly traumatic childhood.

In The Boys, the story begins with the fridging death of the main character’s girlfriend, Robin, at the hands of a member of the Seven, a group of heroes so ingrained in the public consciousness that when they later hide out in a costume shop, literally every single costume is for one of Vought’s heroes. The Seven represent the system in power, which, at the disposal of Not-Amazon means corporate greed, shallow altruism, and the cultivation of public personas at the expense of actual humanity.

From that moment on, the sheer presence of The Seven on everything from public billboards to breakfast cereal is a remainder for Hughie (and the audience) that this established system doesn’t work and is based on lies, which serves this effect on a personal level. In the broader scale, however, we also see that the Seven themselves are fracturing under an unsustainable business model. Even their name, “The Seven” starts to seem a bit dated when halfway through season one through the end of season two there are notably... less than seven of them.

The main characters in Doom Patrol are all in recovery after the accidents that irreversibly changed their lives. We see through flashbacks the people that they used to be, and the difference is striking. They were each established in their own elements: Cliff a famous race-car driver, Rita a world renowned actress, Larry a hero pilot, Jane was involved in counter-cultural movements, Vic was a student and athlete. The foundations upon which their worlds were established are completely decimated by the accidents, and now they (save Vic and sometimes Jane) live mostly in isolation in Niles’ manor house, an estate that is far larger than would be necessary to comfortably house a group of their size.

And you feel the emptiness, both in the manor, and in the lives of the characters. They have barely created a shadow version of their own existence when the series starts, so fragile that a simple trip into town devolves into utter chaos.

Angela Abar of Watchmen has also constructed a life following the terrifying act of terrorism on the White Night. It’s a bit of a double life, and we see that the balancing act is challenging for her, even before the story truly begins. The death of Judd Crawford, and the revelation about him that follows is not only traumatizing on a personal level (but it definitely is that), but also upsets her understanding of the world. People she’s come to trust are not just dishonest but truly monstrous. And the more Angela learns about what has been happening, the more her understanding of the world begins to unravel. Her memories, and the memories of those around her are cast in a much more sinister light, and the effect is genuinely chilling.

Part IV: “I’m the Little Girl Who Threw the Brick in the Air”

In episode 3 of Watchmen, Laurie contacts Dr. Manhattan on the cosmic phone booth to tell him a joke. It’s a version of what TVTropes calls the “brick joke,” and it relies on set up taking place early on, other stuff happening, and then the response coming at an unexpected moment.

So, yeah. Events of the past/buried secrets resurfacing with consequences in the present.

Continuing with the theme from Watchmen, the entire series is punctuated with the way the past and the present intertwine, with elements from both the original Watchmen graphic novel, and actual American history. One of the things we talked a lot about in my gothic lit class was the manner in which the overhanging specter of past atrocities casts a shadow over the present, and how many works cannot help but have gothic themes because there are so many horrifying things in the past that cannot be ignored, and provide both context and nuance for the discussions we have in the present. No series tackles these topics quite so directly (and with as much care) as Watchmen. (note: it does not always make for easy viewing, but if you’re in a place where you feel like you can engage with that kind of material, I highly recommend the show.)

In Doom Patrol, the past actions of the characters very much control the storyline (see: previous discussion of Niles Caulder), but the character whose storyline I want to talk about here is Rita (partially for plot reasons and partially because I just love Rita, okay?). We learn when we first meet Rita that in the past she was... not a great person. We know that the trauma of the accident that gave her her powers has changed her, we also know that she still holds on to the guilt and that her guilt has limited the scope of her world for years, but we don’t know what exactly it is that she’s done.

Enter Mr. Nobody, all-powerful narrator who is not just aware of Rita’s greatest sins, but perfectly capable of manifesting reminders of them into the story. She is confronted with empty cradles, and the sound of crying children in the background of many scenes and we see how much it effects her, without a full understanding of why it does (see: The Tell-Tale Heart). Her past begins to haunt her physically, and she begins to crumble in response to it, until finally she is forced to confide in a stranger (and thus the audience). The past actions do not just inform the audience of Rita’s character - they show up to influence her behavior in the present.

The ending of The Umbrella Academy season 1 is super evocative of the gothic genre with Vanya breaking open the soundproof chamber (wherein she was silenced for years) and rising from the basement to destroy the last remnants of the Hargreeves legacy (which would be awesome if the last remnants of the Hargreeves legacy didn’t include the rest of her family). Pretty much every mistake the siblings make over the course of the season feeds together to create the finale, but the primary cause isn’t something any of them actually did. It all ties back to Reginald Hargreeves’ complete inability to be nice to children. Any children. His own and random strangers that need help.

In The Boys, while the extent to which people are making f-ed up choices in the present cannot be expressed enough, we see through the characters of Homelander that many of the present difficulties are a result of past mistakes. Particularly, the profit-seeking corruption within Vought. We learn in s1 through Vogelbaum that Homelander was raised in a lab by Vought as an experiment, only to be unceremoniously thrust into the spotlight and told he was a superhero (which... does not justify a single one of his actions but is still a major yikes). As the head scientist of the project, Vogelbaum is very aware that ignoring his conscious if the name of research has essentially created the biggest threat their world has ever seen.

(Seriously y’all just stop raising your super kids in isolation)

Part V: Put Them Together, and They’re the MF-ing Spice Girls

Having the environment respond to characters’ emotions/mental states is pretty common in gothic works (it was a dark and stormy night = someone is probably not doing super well). One of the advantages of the genre’s tendency towards the supernatural is that, often, those elements of the stories, as well, are reflections of the main ideas of a work of fiction (see: Stephen King’s really unsubtle period metaphors).

Because all of these shows have a ton of supernatural/scifi elements by virtue of being, well, superhero shows, I thought it would be easier (and more fun!) to come up with a short list of elements, what they mean, and what cases they might apply to.

1. A Nonlinear Experience of Time

The Umbrella Academy: legitimately about time travel. Characters are attempting to fix the timeline but are unable to because they are both mentally and sometimes literally stuck in the past.

Watchmen: In the episode This Extraordinary Being, Angela experiences firsthand the experiences of her grandfather, under the influence of a drug called Nostalgia. The episode touches on many themes, one of which being the impact of generational trauma in marginalized communities. Throughout the series, Dr. Manhatten is cursed with experiencing all time at once, and the episode A God Walks into Abar illustrates that, because of this, he is constantly facing the consequences of particular actions before, after, and while he is preforming him.

Doom Patrol: Mr. Nobody is able to physically travel to one of Jane’s flashbacks via his fourth-wall breaking powers, and gives Dr. Harrison an ultimatum for the future.

What it implies: Events, particularly events that evoke guilt or conflict, are not as rooted in the past as one would like to think.

2. Powers/Abilities that reflect personal trauma/failings

Doom Patrol: Larry’s abilities/bond with the Negative Spirit have made it so that he is constantly covering himself with bandages/avoiding other people, which reflects his experiences having to hide his identity as a gay man in the 50/60s. Rita forced herself to walk a thin line, betraying everything in pursuit of her image; her abilities require constant effort to keep her entire body from becoming misshapen and out of control. Vic’s father with boundary issues can literally control his perception of the world through his cybernetic enhancements. Dorothy’s abilities manifest as imaginary friends because she was kept isolated for years at a time.

The Umbrella Academy: pretty much all of the kids’ powers are representative of the interpersonal skills they were never able to develop. Luther is super-durable but also the most emotionally vulnerable of the group. Five can teleport and time travel but always seems to be too late to stop things. Diego can manipulate the trajectory of projectiles but cannot escape the path his father set out for him, not matter how much he resents it. Vanya always forced herself to stay quiet until the sound literally explodes out of her.

The Boys: Annie’s abilities allow her to control light, but she struggles (in the beginning) to bring to light the horrible things done to her behind closed doors.

Watchmen: Not technically a power, but Looking Glass’ mirror-mask is a constant reminder of the hall of mirrors that both saved his life and traumatized him forever.

What it implies: from a story perspective, these allow for an exploration of trauma/guilt to occur on a scale much larger than people simply talking about their problems (as if anyone on any of these shows knows how to talk about their problems...) It also means that the trauma/guilt of the characters takes on a physical form that is able to haunt them, and constantly remind them/hold them accountable for their past actions.

3. Diluted Sense of Reality:

Doom Patrol: The first season is narrated by its main villain, and throughout the season we see that the act of narration itself has an impact on the story.

Watchmen: The event that kicks off the plot of the story is hinged upon a paradox introduced by Angela near the end of the series when trying to speak to her Grandfather in the past through Dr. Manhattan.

The Umbrella Academy: The pair of episodes in season 1, The Day that Wasn’t and The Day That Was take the same point in time and explore two possible avenue for the future from there, with The Day that Wasn’t ending with the events of the entire episode being completely erased from the timeline.

What it implies: you can’t necessarily trust everything you see, even from the audience perspective, giving them a position not unlike that of the characters. The character’s uncertainty and confusion is magnified and reflected in the world that surrounds them.

Other examples: an apocalypse (The Umbrella Academy, Doom Patrol, Watchmen (of a sort)), ghosts (The Umbrella Academy - hi, Ben!), immortality/invulnerability (Watchmen, Doom Patrol, The Boys), and characters that look significantly younger than they actually are (The Boys, The Umbrella Academy, Doom Patrol).

Part VI: Why Did You Write a Literal Essay Don’t You Have Real Schoolwork (yes... shhhhh...)

And... there you have it. I don’t really have some grand conclusion here. This is (clearly) far from a complete analysis but it is the most my finals-week brain can concoct at the moment.

If you have other ideas, let me know! You can always add to the notes or message me – my inbox is always open! If you got this far, thank you so much for taking the time to read this! Much love! ❤️

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