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pokemon-in-ace-attorney · 2 months

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Pokémon in: Ace Attorney

The First Turnabout

Phoenix Wright was heading for the courthouse, riding his bike. Running along-side him is his partner, Goodra. He’s had Goodra since it was a Goomy, when Phoenix was in middle school. Phoenix only got his badge a few months ago, so this is his first trial, and it's murder.

“I-I’m here boss” Phoenix said

“G-Goodra” Goodra said.

Phoenix and Goodra said as they met with Mia Fey in defendant lobby 1. They were somewhat tired from the journey. Mia was standing there with her partner, Mimikyu. The defendant, Larry Butz, and his Eevee were sitting on a bench.

“Come on Nick, tell em’ I did it. Give me the death penalty!” Larry said. His Eevee seemed to try and comfort him.

“W-What?! No! You didn’t kill her!” Phoenix told him

“But I just can’t live without her man. I JUST CAN’T!” he said, crying.

“So, I’m curious, most people wouldn’t take a homicide as their first case.” Mia asked him. Her Mimikyu just looked at her.

“Well, I owe it to him, he’s part of the reason I became an attorney,” Phoenix answered. Larry was freaking out, shaking his Eevee.

“Wow, you’ll have to tell me the story sometime” she said.

“Sure thing, boss,” Phoenix replied.

And with that they went into the courtroom. Phoenix, Goodra, Mia, Mimikyu and Eevee went to the defense bench. At the prosecutor’s bench, there was an old man, with a Drampa behind him. The judge was an older man, and he had an Oranguru.

“We are gathered here today for the trial of Larry Butz,” the judge said

“The prosecution is ready, your honor,” the prosecutor said, pushing up his glasses.

“The defense is, um, ready, your honor,” Phoenix said.

“Mr. Wright, are you prepared for this case?” the judge asked.

“Y-yes of course” Phoenix turned to Mia. “Um, what was the victim’s name again?” Everyone in the defense section was shocked.

“Look, here.” Mia showed him the evidence folder. He quickly looked it over, while Goodra was trying to apologize.

“I call the defendant, Larry Butz, to the stand,” the prosecutor said.

“Here we go,” Mia told him.

Larry went to the stand to testify.

“Now, is it true that the victim recently dumped you?” the prosecutor asked

“Hey watch it buddy! We were great together, we were like Romeo and Juliet” Larry yelled.

Eevee cried out in agreement. All Phoenix could think was “Didn’t they die?”

Larry continued, “I wasn’t dumped. She just wasn’t answering my calls. Or seeing me. Ever”

“That’s generally what we mean by dumped” The prosecutor said

“I WASN’T DUMPED!” Larry yelled.

“Oh really, so you know about her seeing other men?” The prosecutor asked.

“What other men?” Larry asked.

The prosecutor ignored him and said, “The victim had just returned from traveling with one of them.”

He gave the court her passport. It showed that she has recently returned from a trip to Kalos.

“She was a model, she didn’t earn much. So she stayed with older men who would give her money” the prosecutor said.

“Duuuuuude” Larry muttered.

“So, Mr. Butz, what do you think of her now?” the prosecutor challenged.

Mia turned to Phoenix, and said “I don’t think you want him to answer that!"

But it was too late.

"Dude, no way! That cheatin' she-growlith! I'm gonna die. I'm just gonna drop dead! I'm gonna die. I'm just gonna drop dead! Yeah, and when I meet her in the afterlife... I'm going to get to the bottom of this!" Larry yelled.

“So, it looks like the defendant is prone to fits of rage,” the prosecutor said, smirking.

“Seems like it” the judge said. Phoenix was sweating bullets.

“So, you went to the apartment on the day of the murder, did you not?” the prosecutor asked.

Phoenix needed to do something. He signaled Larry, LIE LIKE A GROWLITHE. Goodra smacked the back of Phoenix's head for telling Larry to lie.

“Oh, was I, I don’t remember….”

“Well that’s fine, because I have a witness who can place you at the scene of the crime!” the Prosecutor said.

“Mr. Payne, please call the witness,” the judge said. A shady-looking man with a Sneasle came in.

“Oh hello”, the man said as he moved side to side.

"Mr. Sahwit, you sell newspaper subscriptions, is this correct?" Payne asked.

"Oh, oh yes! Newspapers, yes!" Sahwit said.

"Mr. Sahwit, you may proceed with your testimony. Please tell the court what you saw on the day of the murder." The judge said. And thus, testimony began.

"I was going door-to-door, selling subscriptions when I saw a man fleeing an apartment.

I thought he must be in a hurry because he left the door half-open behind him.

Thinking it strange, I looked inside the apartment.

Then I saw her lying there... A woman... not moving... dead!

I quailed in fright and found myself unable to go inside.

I thought to call the police immediately!

However, the phone in her apartment wasn't working.

I went to a nearby park and found a public phone.

I remember the time exactly: It was 1:00 PM.

The man who ran was, without a doubt, the defendant sitting right over there." Sahwit testified.

"Larry! Why didn't you tell the truth? I can't defend you against a testimony like that!" Phoenix thought. Goodra shook its head.

"Hmm…Incidentally, why wasn't the phone in the victim's apartment working?" The Judge asked.

"Your Honor, at the time of the murder, there was a blackout in the building." Payne explained.

"Aren't phones supposed to work during a blackout?" The Judge asked.

"Yes, Your Honor... However, some cordless phones do not function normally. The phone that Mr. Sahwit used was one of those. Your Honor... I have a record of the blackout, for your perusal." Payne said, handing over the record.

"Now, Mr. Wright…" The judge said. Phoenix jumped.

"Yes! Er... yes, Your Honor?" Phoenix asked.

"You may begin your cross-examination." The judge said.

"C-Cross-examination, Your Honor?" Phoenix asked. Goodra just stared at its trainer.

"Alright, Wright, this is it. The real deal!" Mia said. Mimikyu made a noise of agreement.

"Uh... what exactly am I supposed to do?" Phoenix asked.

"Why, you expose the lies in the testimony the witness just gave!" Mia said like it was the most obvious thing ever.

"Lies! What?! He was lying!?" Phoenix asked, shocked.

"Your client is innocent, right? Then that witness must have lied in his testimony! Or is your client really... guilty?" Mia said.

"NO! OF COURSE HE'S NOT! But how do I prove it?" Phoenix asked.

"You hold the key! It's in the evidence! Compare the witness's testimony to the evidence at hand. There's bound to be a contradiction in there! First, find contradictions between the Court Record and the witness's testimony. Then, once you've found the contradicting evidence... present it and rub it in the witness's face!" Mia said as her Mimikyu jumped in excitement.

"Alright!" Phoenix said.

It was at this point the witness began to repeat the testimony.

"I was going door-to-door, selling subscriptions when I saw a man fleeing an apartment.

I thought he must be in a hurry because he left the door half-open behind him.

Thinking it strange, I looked inside the apartment.” Sahwit repeated.

“HOLD IT! What gave you the idea to do that?” Phoenix asked.

“Well, the door was half-open, you see. Isn't it only human to want to... peek? We climb mountains because they are there! It's the same thing.” Sahwit explained.

“Truer words have never been spoken! Anyone would look inside!” Payne said, a little too quickly. “So you looked into the apartment. What happened then?”

“Then I saw her lying there... A woman... not moving... dead!” Sahwit said, his Sneasel dramatically fainting.

“HOLD IT! Are you sure she was dead?” Phoenix asked.

“W-Well, no, I guess I wasn't. But, she wasn't moving at all, and there was blood everywhere.” Sahwit said.

“(I guess that would look fatal to anyone…)” Phoenix thought. “Very well, what happened next?”

“I quailed in fright and found myself unable to go inside.” Sahwit said.

“HOLD IT! So, you didn't touch ANYTHING in the apartment?” Phoenix asked.

“Um, yes. I mean no! Nothing.” Sahwit replied.

“Okay. What happened next?” Phoenix asked.

“I thought to call the police immediately!” Sahwit continued.

“HOLD IT! You ‘thought’ to call the police? Does that mean you didn't actually call them!?” Phoenix shouted. Goodra just stared at him like the answer was obvious, and Phoenix didn't quite understand why his Goodra was looking at him like that. Payne sighed.

“Please, please... Listen to the rest of the testimony. You thought to call the police... What happened next?” Payne said.

“However, the phone in her apartment wasn't working.” Sahwit said.

“HOLD IT! The phone in her apartment wasn't working?” Phoenix asked.

“Yes. I mean, no, no it wasn't. Right.” Sahwit said nervously.

“But you said you didn't go into the apartment... or did you!?” Phoenix yelled. Sahwit looked nervous but quickly regained composure.

“Oh, oh, that? I can explain that! There was a cordless phone on a shelf in the entranceway. I reached inside and tried using that to call…” he explained.

“And the phone wasn't working, correct? What happened next?” Payne asked.

“I went to a nearby park and found a public phone.” Sahwit said.

“HOLD IT! Why use a public phone?” Phoenix said.

“Well, you see, I don't have a cell phone. And, being the middle of the afternoon, there was no answer at the nearby apartments.” Sahwit explained.

“Ah, right... what time did you call again?” Phoenix asked.

“I remember the time exactly: It was 1:00 PM.” Sahwit answered.

“HOLD IT! 1:00 PM! Are you certain?” Phoenix asked.

“Yes. Absolutely.” Sahwit said.

“(Hmm... He seems really confident.)” Phoenix thought. Mia noticed her student lost in thought.

“The man who ran was, without a doubt, the defendant sitting right over there.” Sahwit said, pointing at Larry while Sneasel nodded.

“HOLD IT! Are you absolutely, 100% positive?” Phoenix asked.

“Yes, it was him. No mistake about it.” Sahwit said.

“The witness says he's certain!” Payne yelled.

“OBJECTION!” Phoenix yelled. Everyone turned to him. “As certain as you are about the time of death?”

“What!?” Sahwit asked.

“You found the body at 1:00 PM. You're sure?” Phoenix asked.

“Yes. It was 1:00 PM, for certain.” Sahwit said, getting frustrated.

“Frankly, I find that hard to believe! Your statement directly contradicts the autopsy report. The autopsy notes the time of death at sometime after 4PM. There was nobody to... er... no ‘body’ to find at 1:00 PM! How do you explain this three-hour gap?” Phoenix demanded, his Goodra looking smug.

“!!! Oh, that! Oh, er…” Sahwit was cut off by Payne.

“OBJECTION! This is trivial! The witness merely forgot the time!” Payne argued.

The Judge shook his head.

“After his testimony, I find that hard to believe. Mr. Sahwit... Why were you so certain that you found the body at 1:00 PM?” The Judge asked.

“I.. er... well, I... Gee, that's a really good question!” Sahwit said, shifting around nervously and sweating.

“Great job, Wright! Way to put him on the spot! That's all you have to do: point out contradictions! Lies always beget more lies! See through one, and their whole story falls apart!” Mia said, looking excited. Her Mimikyu was going crazy with excitement.

“Wait! I remember now!” Sahwit said.

“Would you care to give your testimony again?” The Judge asked.

“Y-yes of course. You see, when I found the body, I heard the time.

There was a voice saying the time... It was probably coming from the television.

Oh, but it was three hours off, wasn't it?

I guess the victim must have been watching a video of a taped program!

That's why I thought it was 1:00 PM!

Terribly sorry about the misunderstanding…” Sahwit testified.

“Hmm... I see. You heard a voice saying the time on a taped program. Mr. Wright, you may cross-examine the witness.” The Judge said. His Oranguru pointed its fan at Phoenix.

“Alright, Phoenix. You know what to do!” Mia said.

“I've got this one!” Phoenix said.

Sahwit began to repeat his testimony.

“You see, when I found the body, I heard the time.” Sahwit said.

“HOLD IT! You said ‘heard’... Not ‘saw’?” Phoenix asked.

“Yes, heard. All I saw was the body lying there... I didn't think to look at anything else, least of all my watch.” Sahwit said.

“Hmm... Isn't that a little strange? So you're saying you ‘heard’ something. But if you were so shocked by the body, you wouldn't hear anything at all!” Phoenix yelled.

“OBJECTION! The witness did say he actually heard the time. It's ludicrous to suggest he ‘wouldn't hear anything’!” Payne said.

“Hmm... I have to agree with the prosecution. Witness, continue your testimony.” The Judge said.

“There was a voice saying the time... It was probably coming from the television.” Sahwit said.

“I can't put my finger on it, but something about this seems fishy. Something about "hearing" the television…” Mia said to herself, her Mimikyu using Shadow Claw to do a thinking pose.

“The witness has testified. He heard the time.” Payne said.

“Oh, but it was three hours off, wasn't it?” Sahwit continued.

“HOLD IT! How do you explain the gap!” Phoenix yelled.

“Well, witness? Can you explain this?” The Judge asked.

“I guess the victim must have been watching a video of a taped program!” Sahwit testified.

“That's why I thought it was 1:00 PM!” Sahwit said.

“HOLD IT! Are you sure the voice you heard said it was 1:00 PM?” Phoenix asked.

“Yes, I can practically hear it now. It was quite clear.” Sahwit said.

“Mr. Payne, has the prosecution verified this testimony?” The Judge asked.

“My apologies, Your Honor. I, too, have only just learned that the witness ‘heard’ the time.” Payne said.

“Oh, I'm really sorry. I only remembered it just now.” Sahwit said. “Terribly sorry about the misunderstanding…”

“HOLD IT! Well, you just watch it!” Phoenix yelled. His Goodra looked at him, disappointed in that come back. Mia turned to him.

“Notice anything suspicious?” She asked.

“Yeah, I did!” Phoenix said. “OBJECTION! Hold it right there! The prosecution has said there was a blackout at the time of the discovery! And this record proves it!”

Sahwit looked shocked!

“You couldn't have heard a television... or a video!” Phoenix said.

“Gah!!! I... well... urk!” Sahwit desperately tried to come up with an excuse.

“The defense has a point. Do you have an explanation for this, Mr. Sahwit?” The Judge asked.

“No, I... I find it quite puzzling myself! Quite! ... Aah! W-wait! I remember now!” Sahwit said nervously.

“Mr. Sahwit? The court would prefer to hear an accurate testimony from the very beginning. These constant corrections are harming your credibility. That, and you seem rather... distraught.” The Judge said, his Pokémon nodding.

“...! M-my apologies, Your Honor! It... er, it must have been the shock of finding the body!” Sahwit said.

“Very well, Mr. Sahwit. Let's hear your testimony once more please.” The Judge said.

“Actually, I didn't "hear" the time... I "saw" it!

There was a table clock in the apartment, wasn't there!

Yeah, the murder weapon! The killer used it to hit the victim!

That must have been what I saw.” Sawhit testified. Mia turned to Phoenix.

“Now. Find the contradiction!” She said as her Mimikyu jumped up in support. Phoenix and Goodra nodded.

“OBJECTION! Wait just a moment! The murder weapon wasn't a clock. It was this statue! Now how is this supposed to be a clock?” He yelled.

“Whaa!? Y-you with your ‘objections,’ and your ‘evidence’... Just who do you think you are!?” Sawhit yelled.

“Your Honor! If I may, sorry for the confusion, but this is indeed a clock. Twist the neck and it says the time.” Payne said.

“Wait! The only way he could have known the weapon was a clock is to hold it in his hand. Yet the witness testified that he never entered the apartment! Clearly, a contradiction! You were inside the apartment on the day of the murder!” Phoenix yelled.

“Oh yeah? Prove it! Prove I went in there!” Sawhit yelled.

“I'll do better than that! I can prove you were the one who killed her! You struck her with the clock, and the shock of the blow triggered the clock's voice! That was the sound you heard!” Phoenix yelled. The gallery went nuts as the judge banged his gavel.

“Intriguing…continue Mr. Wright.” He said.

“Yes, Your Honor. Mr. Sahwit. The sound must have left quite an impression on you. Understandable, since the murder weapon spoke just as you hit the victim! That voice was burned into your mind. That's why you were so certain about the time!” Phoenix accused.

“I... I...! That... that day... I... I never! Look... I... the clock... I heard, no! I mean, I saw...Saw... nggg! Gwaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Shutupshutupshutup! I hate you! I-it was him, I tell you! I saw him! H-he killed her and he should burn! Burn! Give him death!” Sawhit yelled as his Sneasle sharpened its claws while looking at the defendant. Larry's Eevee got on the desk and started yelling at it.

“ORDER! CONTROL THOSE POKÉMON!” The Judge yelled. Sawhit calmed his Sneasel while Phoenix calmed the Eevee.

“Your Honor, a-a moment please! There isn't a shred of evidence supporting the defense's claims!” Payne said.

“Defense, do you have evidence?” The Judge asked.

“Yes. Just sound the clock.” Phoenix said. He went up and twisted the neck.

“I think it's 8:25.” The clock said.

“Pretty cool, right! I'm the voice of the thinker!” Larry shouted. Eevee looked proud.

“Mr. Payne? What time is it?” Phoenix asked. Payne looked at his watch.

“Its 11:25…ack!” He shouted.

“As you can see, this clock is exactly three hours slow! Precisely the discrepancy between what Mr. Sahwit heard and the actual time of death! So, Mr. Sahwit... Try to talk your way out of this one!” Phoenix yelled. Mia smiled at him and Goodra looked proud. But then Sawhit started laughing.

“... ...Hah! Hah hah! You forgot one thing!” He said. “While it may seem like that clock IS running three hours slow... It proves nothing! How do you know it was running three days slow on the day of the murder!? If you can't prove that, you don't have a case!’

“W-WHAT!? But…” Phoenix trailed off.

“Mr. Wright? It seems you lack the critical evidence to support your claim.” The Judge said. “This means I cannot let you indict the witness. Unfortunately... This ends the cross-examination of Mr. Frank Sahwit.”

“I come all the way down here to testify, and look what happens! You treat me like a criminal! A criminal! You lawyers are all slime!” Sawhit said as Sneasel crossed its arms.

Phoenix held his head in his hands, as Goodra looked frantically through the court and Eevee cried.

“(Grr! I almost had him! Sorry, Larry... I failed you. There's nothing I can do about it now…)” Phoenix thought.

“HOLD IT!” Mia shouted.

“Mia! I mean Chief!” Phoenix yelled.

“Listen up, Wright! Don't throw this one away, not like this! Think!” She said. “We think the clock is wrong, but consider this…could it actually be right?”

And then Phoenix knew what happened.

“TAKE THAT! The victim had just returned home from abroad the day before the murder. As we all know, the time difference between here and Lumiose City is nine hours! When it's 4:00 PM here, it's 1:00 AM the next day there. The clock wasn't three hours slow, it was nine hours fast! The victim hadn't reset her clock since returning home! That's why the time you heard when you struck her dead in her apartment was wrong! Proof enough for you, Mr. Sahwit? Or should I say... Mr. Did It!” Phoenix yelled and pointed. Goodra imitated it's trainer.

Sawhit started to foam at the mouth and freak out before falling to the ground.

“ARREST MR. SAWHIT IMMEDIATELY!” The Judge said. And the man was arrested. Goodra and Phoenix breathed sighs of relief. Larry was called to the stand.

“I shall now hand down the verdict on the defendant, Larry Butz.” The Judge said. “Not Guilty!”

Confetti fell and Eevee ran to its trainer and jumped into his arms.

It turns out that Frank Sahwit was a common burglar! He posed as a newspaper sales-man to check and see when people were out of the house! That day... When Larry went to her apartment, the victim wasn't home. After he left, Mr. Sahwit let himself in to do his dirty work! While he was searching her place, the victim returned! Flustered, Mr. Sahwit grabbed the nearest blunt object he could find…

“Aww! Nicky! I loved her with all my heart and she was running around on me!?” Larry cried on his friend's shoulder.

“Hey, hey, I think she did have feelings for you.” Phoenix said.

“NO SHE DIDN'T!” He yelled.

“Yes she did. She brought your clock with her. And even took pictures with it!” Phoenix said. Larry sniffled and then wiped his tears.

“I guess your right. Anyway, thanks man.” Larry said. Mia approached the group.

“Congrats Wright. You won your first case.” Mia said. Her Mimikyu was on her shoulder. “Oh, and congratulations to you to, Harry.”

“Um actually, it's Larry.” Larry said.

“Oh. I'm sorry.” Mia said.

“NO its fine. Um here! You can have this, as thanks!” Larry said, taking out a thinker clock.

“Hey man, I was the one who saved you.” Phoenix said.

“Wait…isn't this the murder weapon?” Mia said.

“Oh no that'd be creepy. It's exactly like that one. I had made two and given one to Cindy and kept one for myself. I'd really like for you to have this!” Larry said.

“Well…thanks. I'll keep it as a memento.” Mia said.

Outside, Mia and Wright looked out at the city sky. It was night. She turned to her student.

“Wright? I hope you see the importance of evidence now. Also, hopefully you realize, things change depending on how you look at them. People, too. We never really know if our clients are guilty or innocent. All we can do is believe in them. And in order to believe in them, you have to believe in yourself. Wright... Listen. Learn. Grow strong. Never let go of what you believe in. Never.” She said.

“Right!” Phoenix replied with a smile.

“So, you were gonna tell me how Larry made you want to become an attorney?” Mia said.

“Yes…OH CRAP! I LEFT MY BIKE AT THE COURTHOUSE! CATCH YOU LATER!” Phoenix yelled, running off. Goodra ran after him. Mia's Mimikyu giggled.

Neither knew about what would happen, the next night…

A/N yeah a lot of this is copy and pasted from a transcript of The First Turnabout. But that won't be a regular thing. I just couldn't remember much of this case

#Pokémon in: Ace Attorney

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secretmellowblog · 2 years

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I’m rereading Les mis again, and one thing I didn’t notice on my first reads is just how Militarized every single town is? Even in scenes where characters are just going about their ordinary day there are always soldiers in the street, and everyone’s always mentioning prison, and the police are always there, and there are always traces of the recent wars all around—

No matter what the characters are doing, the threat of state violence is always There. The threat of the military and police and government is always hanging over them.

Like in Fantine’s chapters with Tholomyes! As the four couples are going on their dates, there are constant references to how “Everything is Fine Now Because the Monarchy has Finally Put Down those Nasty Rebels and is Back in Power Again.”As the couples flirt and play, there are gendarmes in the street and people singing rowdy songs about the return of the king. There’s an entire intro chapter about the year’s historical context, and the rest of the chapters contains sprinkles of anecdotes about the new regime.

Hugo draws what I feel is a pretty explicit parallel between Tholomyes and the new King. We’re told that is fine in Paris because King Louis is on the throne: and we’re told that everything is idyllic in Fantine’s friend group because Tholomyes is its (quote) “dictator” who leads in a way that obligates everyone to obey.

Of course in the end Everything is Not Fine and these dictators can’t actually be trusted to rule over their people, and are going to especially hurt marginalized people like Fantine.

But it’s not just this one subplot obviously, it’s Every Single One. The threat of military violence is the background noise of the entire book.

Montreuil-sur-Mer where Valjean becomes mayor is literally a garrrison town for the military; Paris is always swarming with police and gendarmes; Marius’s story centers on his changing feelings about his Bonapartist soldier father; the Thenardiers live at the Waterloo Inn and constantly go on about Monsieur Thenardier’s military history; like the threat of the military/police is always there in the background of every scene, long before it comes to a head at the barricade.

One of the subplots that illustrates this best is Everything that Happens In Digne after Valjean is released from prison.

Valjean shows his yellow passport to the mayor and is immediately followed by a gendarme before he heads to an inn. His passport causes every inn to refuse service to him. After he asks a kind-looking peasant man at home with his family if he can stay at his house for the night, the man pulls out a gun and threatens to murder him. He attempts to get temporary housing at a prison, which refuses him.

We’re later given an explanation for what the townspeople think and say about their police force, and why they’re so determined to beat Valjean away. We’re told that the townspeople say:

“The police was very badly organized, moreover, because there was no love lost between the Prefect and the Mayor, who sought to injure each other by making things happen. It behooved wise people to play the part of their own police, and to guard themselves well, and care must be taken to duly close, bar and barricade their houses, and to fasten the doors well.”

Which is a terrifying philosophy that we see throughout the book? The reason everyone is so cruel to Valjean is because in a world where everything is militarized, ordinary people have decided to become unofficial cops. It’s like they believe the problem with their society is that there aren’t enough police/soldiers on the street—even though we see police and soldiers on Every Page.

There’s something terrifyingly familiar about the mentality that looks at cities swarming with police and says “the way to fix this is to Add More Police. Or for regular citizens to Do Police Work themselves!”

And I feel like that tension, that constant pervasive threat of government violence that never goes away because ordinary people are actively supporting these institutions too, is such a tragically relevant part of the book.

#les miserables #Les mis #jean valjean #but yeah I’m like . sad about Valjean again #like is he paranoid about being found out?#yes #but look at the society he lives in!#look at all the soldiers and weapons on the street #and all the cops #and all the people making themselves Unofficial Cops #it makes sense that he lives in a state of constant terror #:(#my poor buddy John McJohn

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hobisstar · 2 years

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cast mates dead mates love mates| psycho!Robert Pattinson x black!reader

Summary: Robert has loved having Y/N near him since he met her on set for The Batman as of course him as The Bat himself and Y/N as the Cat herself. Besides the love, hes had deeper feelings than that. Something darker than that.

Warnings: It’s all over the place ,the usual! Bad Language, Mention of Sex, Dominant! Rob, Submissive!Reader, Cheating, Arguments, BITCH THIS IS MESSYYYYYY BY THE WAY, ZOE IS A BITCH OF A FRIEND IN THIS . This is pure fiction.SO BASICALLY HES CRAZY in this . YOU GUYS WANTED HORROR, and Murder(Zoe).

A/N: I have no idea how many words this is.. I’ve been watching a lot of Roberts movies and can I say let’s clap it up.. this plays all the crazy characters THAT YOU WILL HATE but he DOES SO WELL AT IT YOU JUST CANT LOOK AWAY FROM THE SCREEN!! Anygays this fic is all over the place but please do enjoy

“Ah yes, She’s awesome. When we first met eachother we got along rather quickly. She helped me shave my face to make sure it was even, she made sure i looked fabulous before shoots, the list goes on.”

What a day to be Y/N! I mean THE Robert Pattinson was like her closes friend right now since the shooting for The Batman started.

They were at an interview for the movie explaining how well they’ve grown close to each other.

“What would you say was your favorite scene with her?” The interviewer asked Robert.

With all his heart he wanted to say The kiss scenes…

Gosh he really wanted to. “Definitely the scene were we are fighting for the passport. Its the first interaction, well somewhat second interaction.”

Remembering her soft lips reminded him of roses. Her lips where as soft as rosé peddles. He would do anything to feel that softness again.

After the interview he decided maybe he should officially ask her for her number. I mean They been past that step since they’ve kissed more than 4 times..

There was something the media didn’t know. They didn’t know that they were fuck buddies. YEAH.

Sometimes after shooting for the day it be late so shed crash at his luxury apartment and they would just hang out.

Cuddles turned to kissing. kissing turned to grinding. Grinding turned into getting naked. Getting naked turned into oral sex. Oral sex turned into him breaking her back in for the night.

it was getting pretty tiring sneaking around and Robert wanted to just make it official. Y/N was all down for it until he said..

“Great we can tell the press-“

“Wait wait Rob, tell the press? For what? Why do they need to know?” She questioned.

Y/N is the type to keep her private life just that private. Yes, sooner or later it would come out that they were together if they made this decision, but why risk telling the media head on?

“How about we tell them after the movie is released? It wont faze them it’ll look like we feel in love during and wanted to wait till everything was right?” She suggested.

“Why? Babygirl, I want to tell them before someone finds out and its out to the world without us being aware. I want to be the one to say we are madly in love with each other and we are making it official.” Robert said grabbing her hand holding it softly.

“I get that i do but lets just wait it out huh? So we can prepare for what they will say or throw at us.” She smiled slightly and nodded trying to get him to agree.

He froze. I mean, why was she delaying it so much? Did she like being secretive? He wants the world to know that he has declared her as his queen. That he has carved his initials into her heart and she has done the same for him.

“Why are you trying to delay it so much? Do you not want to be open with me? Is there some one else? Tell them you are taken already.” He said trying to give questions and answers. His possessive side started to show.

“No no baby its not that its just… im scared that they would think negative on the situation.. the movie isn’t out and what if they think this is a stunt to get more viewers? We all know you have fans all over and so do I. They will think we are just doing it for each other money and fame. I dont want people to call our love that is true, a sham.”

They figured it would just be better to wait it out.

Around 2 months later after that talk, Something seemed off with Rob.

He became distant, he stop coming over her house, they rarely chatted or texted anymore, her phone calls would go to voicemail.

Did the relationship even exist? Did she do something wrong? Did she scare him away? We’re they ever actually officially together? So many thoughts ran through her head.

Her thoughts was soon interrupted by her phone pinging.

It was a text from Robert.

Rob🫶🏽🦇: I’m outside. Open the door.

You: What? why?

Rob🫶🏽🦇: It’s important I rather I tell you face to face.

She raised suspicion and slowly got up. While getting up, she got another text from her close friend, Zoe.

Zoe💕: Y/N? I’m so sorry! IM SO SO SORRY IT JUST HAPPENED ONE NIGHT AFTER THE RELEASE PARTY IT SHOULDVE NEVER HAPPENED

She looked at it but opened the door and was about to reply but Robert took her phone.

“Let’s talk with no cellphones babe..” he said lowly with his thick accent. Y/n nodded and led him to the couch.

“What the hell is going on? You disappear for 2 months and now you want to tell me something ‘important’?” She said not understanding why all of a sudden he wanted to talk.

“I just want to say that before I tell you this,I want you to know that I’m not willing to let you go. It was a mistake and we can work on our relationship after..” he said sitting some what far.

She heard her phone go off again and she grabbed it from him and check it. It was again from Zoe.

Zoe💕: I didn’t know how to tell you but sine the media knows… Me and Robert are together… well we fucked… while you two are trying to figure out the relationship of telling the media.. they spotted him coming to my apartment last month. That’s why he’s been so distant… Y/N I’m truly sorry… pls pls tell you forgive me… pls?

After reading everything, Y/and world stopped she didn’t respond to the text since really she didn’t know how.

“You.. You cheated on me with Zoe?” She muttered softly.

“…I..”

“Robert Pattinson, Did you or did you not cheat on me with my Bestfriend ?” She asked looking at him with tears and anger.

“Yes, but I didn’t mean for it to happen.. Y/N- I- She was trying to help us-“

“So you’re dumbass thinks that fucking her is helping us?!” She shouted

“No!”

“So why did you do it? Don’t give me no dumb bullshit answer Patt! I want the truth!”

“She said that if she was you she’d tell the media in a heartbeat that we are a couple.. She would want us to be known.” He said quietly “I heard that and just felt like maybe you just don’t want nobody knowing about us because you don’t want to be public with me…” he looked at her and stood up grabbing her hand which she snatched away instantly.

“You are nothing but despicable, you want to be public? Fine you got your fucking wish. You happy?” She looks at him and chuckles slightly whipping her tears and sees him letting his tears drop.

“You are crying? You fuck my best friend and YOUR crying?”

“It was a mistake I don’t even like her. Please Y/N I’m nothing without you and you know that.”

“Oh no ,honey. I know that whatever you say is a lie. You ignored me for 2 months because you were guilty. So you hid and probably hid with Zoe. Get your shit out my house and go live with that fake ass bitch.” Y/N walked to the kitchen trying to calm down but was more angry when she heard Robert following her.

“No. I’m not taking my stuff to be with her when I can and want to be with you. Please baby just forgive me.” He said getting on his knees.

“You want me to beg? I’ll beg until my voice box breaks. I’ll beg until it’s a new decade. I’ll beg until you finally say yes. I’m not leaving you” he said grabbing her wrist.

“You should’ve thought of that before you stuck your dick in someone else’s cunt!”

She stormed upstairs grabbing anything she knew was his and threw it down the stairs. He dodge a few things and got hit by a lot of things. He walked up the stairs and went into the room and back hugged her.

“Baby please-“

“You better let me the hell go..”

He hesitated at first but soon did “I know I fucked up . I know I fumbled our love for each other. You.. You made think there’s someone else that you were talking to. Someone who you want to be public with. If there was someone, I don’t know what I’d do to them. I panicked and Zoe happened to be there. I can’t tell you how sorry I really am.” He turned her around. “I- I don’t want to let you go. With all honesty I won’t let you go. I love you too much so please baby..”

She closed her eyes trying to calm down. She opened them and stared at him. The love of her so called life is right here balling his eyes out to the point it looks like he looked the shower head right in the eyes. He was hysterical.

“Just give us- No, Fuck Zoe. Give me another chance. We can do so much better without her.” He mumbled but loud enough for her to hear.

“Fuck Zoe? As long as I’m concerned you both need to be out of my life! It’s already out to the world Rob you two are THE couple, not me and you. So get you and you’re fucking shit out my damn house. I don’t want to see a trace of you ever being h-here” she broke down and cried on the bed.

He wanted to comfort her. He wanted to hold her and kiss her and tell her everything was going to be fixed.

He was going to fix this..

He stormed out the house not caring to grab any of his stuff. He was gonna be back so why worry about grabbing it?

Robert knew Zoe lived about a few minutes away from Y/Ns house. He got in his car and sped over there.

The thoughts ran through his mind all jumbled like a crossword puzzle. Finding the right words to explain what he was gonna do.

K I L L

H E R

He stopped the car in front of her house and got out slamming his door.

He went up to the house door and knocked gently. In order to go through with this he had to act… natural.

Zoe answered the door. “Robert? How did it go?” She said looking at him trying to find an answer. She guided him to the kitchen table and let him sit getting him a cup of water.

“S-She kicked me out..” he simply replied

“I’m sorry to hear that. Well, Um I guess you guys just weren’t built for it” she said lowly but he heard it.

“What? We weren’t built for it? I was okay with waiting until the screening was over! You!” He stood up making the chair scream and then fall over, “ You are the one who twisted my words around and my brain into thinking I COULD DO BETTER! Well news flash Zoe, I’m about to be the happiest man alive.” He looked over at the knife display and quickly slicing her throat open.

“While you will be the saddest dead woman alive.”

He watched her body drop to the ground. He sighed happily. He looked down and noticed blood all over his clothes but shrugged. He soon walked out not caring to clean anything up.

He got in the car smiling and soon drove back to Y/Ns house.

He got out the car with the knife for proof and walked in the house. Robert went upstairs and as soon as she saw him she screamed.

“Who’s blood is that Roberts?!” She said backing up looking for anything to defend herself with.

“I took care of it. Now we can be happy baby. No more Zoe to be in our ear like an annoying fucking pest. It’s about you and me now Y/N.” He said stepping closer and dropped the knife on the bed. He reached out to her and hugged her. Tightly.

“I fixed everything, now we can go back to how we were. I told you I wasn’t letting you go. I was clear about that..

“ I love you Y/N” he said and kissed her head.

He felt her trembling in his arms but he calms her down or so he thinks he did.

“No one…can get in between us…ever again.”

Y/N looked up and saw a terrifying smirk on his face but soon everything faded to black…

#robert pattinson x y/n #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #the batman 2022 #horror fiction

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rainy-day-gracie · 4 years

Text

Innocent

WOW I got this idea last night and I couldn’t keep myself from writing it.

Spencer arrested Reader for six murders she didn’t commit. What will happen when they need her help four years later when she’s in prison?

Spencer Reid x Reader

Enjoy !!

MASTERLIST

Four years. I have spent four years locked up in a jail cell for six murders that I didn’t commit.

All thanks to the BAU.

The door to my home was kicked open all of a sudden, causing me to shriek and drop my coffee cup. A muscular dark skinned man pointed a gun at me. “FBI! Don’t move!”

I put my hands in the air, nearly trembling. “What is this?” A tall man about my age with fluffed brown hair pinned my arms behind my back and slipped handcuffs on my wrists. “What did I do? Hello, are you high? Let me out of these!”

The man just recited the Miranda rights and dragged me out of my small home. While sitting in the police car watching the FBI search my house, the man came back and leaned against the car door.

“I’ve never really liked cops too much, but this is a new low.” I said backhandedly. “What do you expect to find in my house anyways?”

“Anything that can help us prove that you killed six men in cold blood.” His face was stoic on the surface and angry underneath.

“Excuse me? You guys really think I’m capable of something like that?”

He just looked at me coldly, not speaking.

I rolled my eyes and looked away from him. “God, I hate cops so much.”

“Is that because you were raped when you were nineteen and the police never investigated?” The man just looked over at me casually, as if these were normal circumstances.

“What’s your name, slick?” I said with a glare.

“Dr. Spencer Reid.”

I was lying in my jail cell reading poetry when Guard Reese approached my cell. “What do you want, Reese?”

“You have a visitor, YLN.”

Anger flared in my stomach at the sight of the good doctor.

“Well, if it isn’t Dr. Spencer Reid!” I gave him a fake smile, spreading my arms in mock welcome. “The reason I’ve been locked in here for four years! Mighty job you’ve done.” I applauded him sarcastically.

Reid just rolled his eyes and sat across from me in the interrogation room. “Good to see prison hasn’t broken your sense of humor, but I don’t have time to exchange pleasantries, YFN.”

I squinted at him, crossing my arms over my chest. “Why are you here? Disturbing my lovely routine of doing nothing all day in a six by eight cell.”

“My team and I need your help. There’s been recent murders, and they are an exact match to your MO four years ago.” He opened a file on the table, spreading out gruesome photos of young men that were slaughtered. “Two young men suspected of rape charges both emasculated and stabbed to death in their home. The same MO as your victims.”

Reid’s hair had gotten longer since I last saw him at my trial, and he seemed to be more muscular through his sweater vest, but those weren’t the only differences about him. He seemed colder, more experienced.

“Who did you lose?” I peered at him, reading him the same way he can read me.

“Excuse me?”

“You lost someone… a friend, relative, lover…” The way he looked down and his jaw clenched gave me my answer. “You lost your lover. Girlfriend, or wife?”

“Girlfriend.” His voice was soft, and he glanced back up at me after a moment. For the first time, I noticed how sharp his jawline was. For some reason, I didn’t want to look away. Reid cleared his throat, continuing bitterly. “We’re not here to talk about that though. We’re here to talk about you and the people you killed.”

I sat in the interrogation room for two hours before Reid came in to talk to me. I spoke in a way that was almost boring. I couldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me crumble. “Dr. Reid, I didn’t kill anyone.”

He didn’t respond, instead he sat and displayed photo upon photo of young men, murdered. In the center there was one photo from a passport. Eddie Williamson. “Do you know these men?”

“Eddie. He…” I trailed off, memories of that damn frat party flooding back to me.

“He raped you at a frat party in college. You reported it, but there wasn’t any proof, and he wasn’t charged.” Reid peered at me, looking for a reaction.

Looking at Eddie’s face, the face that haunted my nightmares, made me want to vomit. “That son of a bitch ruined my life, and no one believed me. But what does that have to do with anything? You’re charging me with six murders.” I shoved the photos away, refusing to look at the mutilated bodies of young men.

“He was found murdered and emasculated in his apartment two weeks ago. Since then, five other men accused of sexual assault allegations have been found in the same state of being.”

I couldn’t help the satisfaction that curled in my stomach at the news of Eddie’s fate. At the same time I wanted to vomit. They think I could do something like that?

Reid didn’t believe my claims of innocence. I could tell in the way he stared at me, like I was an animal out for blood.

My voice was shaky when I spoke again. “I want my lawyer now, if you don’t mind.”

“I didn’t kill anyone.” My voice was steady despite my anger. How many times did we have to do this dance? “I know you don’t believe me, your team didn’t believe me, a jury didn’t believe me. But it’s the truth. I can’t help you.”

Reid was quiet for a long time. “If you didn’t kill these people, who did?”

I slammed my palm against the table, nearly shouting at the top of my lungs. “What do you want me to say? I’ve done everything I can to convince you and anyone that will listen that I didn’t kill anyone. Somehow I was convicted for 6 murders I did not commit, despite there being zero physical evidence against me. I cannot help you, Dr. Reid.”

Reid took a deep breath. His brown eyes looked into mine, and for a moment, I could’ve sworn he believed me. Believed that I wasn’t the cold blooded killer everyone perceived me to be. “My team and I made a profile for the killer four years ago. A woman in her mid to late twenties that had been raped, probably in her college career. She has a steady job, probably as a receptionist or secretary. Something that goes along with typical gender roles. She’s angry at the world for never giving justice to the man that violated her in college, and this anger causes her to push away those who care about her.”

I smiled bitterly. “That’s me to a T.”

“There was one major part of the profile you didn’t match with. When we arrested this woman, we expected her to be extremely hostile, physically fight back however she could. You didn’t do that. You were strong, but you didn’t want to look at the crime scene photos. You didn’t resist us, even though you got a lawyer.” His charming brown eyes were thoughtful, as if he was thinking deeply about something extremely important.

“Well, what does that mean?”

For the first time since I’d known Dr. Reid, he looked confused. “I don’t know. The profile is the same as it was four years ago, and we think it’s someone close to you. You can help us by thinking of anyone that could match that description.”

Something occurred to me, someone I had barely thought about in years. “My sister. She’s a little older than me, and I haven’t heard from her since my arrest.”

Reid abruptly left the room, taking the files with him.

The memory of his voice echoed in my head, and my mind couldn’t help but dwell on the feeling that maybe once, in four years, someone believed me.

PART 2 : Guilty

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #dr reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic

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oswincoleman · 3 years

Photo

Jenna Coleman in The Serpent episode 8

As always, I will be describing my thought on this episode below. Spoilers!

The final episode of The Serpent wraps up the whole story, of all the characters involved, and covers a more than 30 year timespan. It describes how Charles and Marie were finally caught in India, and imprisoned for good, for the moment.

After starting their evil practises again to obtain money and passports to fake, Charles and Marie have to stoop very low. Marie is fed up with all of it, and in an interesting parallel with a lot of their victims, calls back home requesting money and a means to get back to Canada, and out of her current predicament, claiming innocence of all charges.

When one of their “friends” steals Marie’s purse with their stolen money and fake passports, Charles, or as he is now referring to himself, Daniel, loses his calm as well, and the two of them engage in a very loud and physical dispute.

The same person who stole Marie’s purse later contacts the police to report a murder, and the police apprehend Marie, who confronts them while calmly walking down the stairs in what has got to be the coolest way to be caught. In the meantime, “Daniel” is trying to poison a group of 30 German tourists at the same time, which obviously goes wrong, and he is finally caught as well.

In prison, Marie confesses, providing a very detailed report of everything she and Charles had done, as far as she was aware. And though she has at least partially redeemed herself in doing so, her story would not be ending on a positive note. A few years later, she gets cancer, and is transferred to Canada, where she dies soon afterwards. There is one last encounter between her and Charles in which Marie finally speaks openly with Charles, no longer fearing him, and having accepted her predicament.

Charles escapes, is caught again, extending his sentence in India, and is released after he can no longer be extradited and sentenced to death in Thailand, becoming a free man once more. And so the storyline goes back to the very first scene of episode 1. But fortunately, the story doesn’t end on such a sour note. We follow the other relevant characters over the years, and see how Charles returns to Nepal once more, where he is swifly apprehended, and with the help of Herman’s records, and Marie’s confession, he is imprisoned once more, this time for good.

What is especially interesting about this episode, is how it completes Marie’s huge character arc. She went from an innocent, boring secretary, to a manipulated victim of Alain craving attention, to an unwilling accomplice. She created a new persona for herself to hide away her fears and objections to everything she was witnessing, and presented herself as though she were a glamour model. Then she actively helped select, and drug various victims along the way. But then she reached a point at which she had had enough of all the murders and tried to back off, all the while getting herself more and more tangled up in Charles’ web. She fought and won against Ajay for Charles’ attention, tried to forget the past and forge a new glamourous life in Paris. That then crumbled when she realised the depth of Charles constant lies, and the realisation of having become wanted by the police worldwide. Finally, she breaks, and unleashes all her thoughts and emotions she had kept locked up, and can’t stand Charles anymore. She maintains her innocence while also being determined to confess to everything that happened, and is at least somewhat vindicated. But in the end she dies of cancer at a young age, while trying to show forgiveness and acceptance, but having become strong and fearless. When she finally confronts Charles, even though she is dying, and stuck to a wheelchair, despite their history together, it is she who dominates and has the final word. Even from her grave, she came to haunt Charles, and had her revenge on him. Her account of what happened in Nepal was the necessary proof to get him convicted and imprisoned for good.

Though Marie is not the main character, it is her development which guides the story, and which reflects on its progress. She is the most complex and intriguing character (which, given Jenna’s past roles, shouldn’t really be a surprise to anyone), being neither a villain or a hero, but a bit of both. She is just as much victim as she is perpetrator, attempting to turning a blind eye on Charles’ crimes, but also willing to providing detailed accounts of everything that they had done.

And Jenna Coleman’s acting in this episode is nothing short of phenomenal. She brilliantly portrays all the disappointment, and anger she has for Charles in their argument at the start of the episode, having gained more confidence to confront him than she had previously had, finally realising how much power her knowledge of him gives her. She has such an unbelievable presence in this scene that is incredible to watch.

Also her confession in prison, and her final meeting with Charles convey so much emotion, and explains so much that is not directly put into words. You can see her hidden despair and attempted acceptance of her predicament of dying of cancer, her calm anger and resentment, told without raising her voice, and yet being even more powerful than if she had. Throughout this episode she projects confidence merely from how she carries herself, be it the calm walk down the stairs while being apprehended by the police, or the smile she puts on in prison. Jenna’s performance makes you feel incredible sympathy for her character at the end, and makes her ending all the more tragic.

I doubt she will get the recognition she deserves for her brilliant performance in The Serpent, as award shows tend to not care that much about the quality of one’s performance at all. Having money to support it, and appearing in the “right” show are much more important than the performances themselves. BAFTA will undoubtedly ignore her like they always do, and whether she has a chance for other awards depends on whether Netflix promotes her for various awards, or not. Netflix has so far at least not shown much interest in The Serpent at all. She definitely deserves to finally get some major awards for The Serpent, awards that she should already have gotten many years ago.

#jenna coleman #jenna louise coleman #the serpent #the serpent episode 8 #bbc #netflix #bbc iplayer

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mfingenius · 4 years

Text

The ‘Accio’ miracle

Trigger Warnings: very brief mention of self harm and addiction

Draco keeps secrets.

He’s always prided himself in it, knows there’s no one who’s better at it than him; he kept his father’s secrets, first, thirteen and feeling like he was being let into the world of the elite, where people knew things other witches and wizards didn’t. Then, he kept his mother’s secrets; the quiet contempt no one seemed to see, the anxiousness that ate at her day by day because of things Draco didn’t quite understand, things he wasn’t told, not yet, not even though his father had called him a man.

Third, he kept the Dark Lord’s secrets; he remembers the day they came into his home, the Dark Lord and his cult of followers, each crueler and more heartless than the last, and Draco had been fifteen and terrified, and he didn’t feel like a man, not at all, he’d felt like a child. He’d heard the things they planned, seen the things they did, and he’d kept his mouth shut. He thinks he’d died a little, then; the first time he’d heard someone scream under a Crucio was the first time he realized he knew nothing at all, that the glory and the knowledge he thought were his, what he thought the cause he was fighting for entailed, was all wrong.

He was all wrong.

He still said nothing.

Fourth, he keeps his own secrets; or he tries to, at least. When he’s sixteen and the name Harry James Potter appears across his ribcage in horrible handwriting, he stays locked in his bathroom for three hours, the world crashing down around him; it is the summer before sixth year, and he just – he just needs to make it to September first without anyone noticing, and that’s all. He’s off to Hogwarts, and he can fuck off and never come back. For now, however – for now, well, he’s trapped in a place that used to be his childhood home but is now unrecognizable, filled with people who will not hesitate to kill him – or worse, and Draco knows what they’re capable of, he does, he’s seen them – if they find out who his soulmate is.

In that moment, Draco hates Potter, truly and overwhelmingly hates him, because he’s not going to get out of here, he’s not going to survive this if anyone finds out. The older Death Eaters already hurt him for fun, and he’s done nothing. After this, they’re going to kill him.

So he does what he has to; he draws a Difindo across the name, over and over until it is unrecognizable, and the pain of it is agonizing, but he shoves a towel between his teeth and bears his way through it; it gives him time, an excuse not to come out of his rooms if anyone comes looking for him – they don’t - but when the skin heals, the name is right there, readable over the scars, and Draco has to sit and just breathe, because this can’t be happening.

After that, he does the next best thing; he wears layers upon layers, skin-tight shirts underneath loose robes so no one will notice, keeps the mark hidden, knows he only needs to get through the summer.

And he almost succeeds. The last day of July – Potter's birthday, Draco knows – the Dark Lord tells him he’s taking the Mark; it’s supposed to be an honor, Draco knows, he can see the pride in his father’s eyes, but the only thing he feels is dread.

He doesn’t want the Dark Mark.

“Shirt off,” the Dark Lord hisses, and Draco’s blood runs cold; he knows it is usual for people to take the Dark Mark shirtless; it’s a metaphor, he thinks, something about his mind and body belonging to the Dark Lord, but for him it’ll be his doom.

Slowly, very slowly, he begins unbuttoning his robes.

Seven years later

“Anything yet?” Ron asks, stepping into their office when two bags of Chinese food; there’s a muggle place two blocks away from the ministry that makes the best spring rolls in the world, and they always eat from there when they’re working on a tough case.

“No,” Harry says, gratefully taking the box that Ron offers him. “Fuck, this smells delicious.”

Ron nods. “Got extra spring rolls for you.”

Harry groans a muffled ‘thank you’, already devouring the fried rice; he hasn’t eaten since breakfast, and he’s starving. He welcomes the taste of salty, fried food, and then looks back to the surveillance footage they’re watching. They’ve been investigating the death of a muggle military general, because he had no apparent cause of death to muggles – an Avada Kedavra - and because traces of magic were found at the scene.

“There he is, look at that.” Harry and Ron lean forward at the same time, eyes narrowing at the grainy footage; they'd ‘confiscated’ it from the Muggle Police – better to avoid unwanted questions when they saw it – but they’re used to how well one can see surveillance charms, so this is undoubtably a step down.

“What is he doing?” Harry asks, frowning; Edward Thomas can be seen drinking alone in the hotel bar; he’d be found in his hotel room, but they’ve already scanned the elevator and hall tapes and nothing has come up, so they’re working their way back.

He’s speaking to the man beside him, whose face they can’t see because his back is to the camera. Harry, however, can see Thomas’s face, and he looks – evidently interested. Harry thinks he might be flirting. The other man is evidently not interested, because he turns away, but Thomas reaches out to harshly grab the other man by the arm; the man steps back, and they struggle for a moment before he manages to break himself free, finally turning towards the camera to leave.

“Holy fucking shit,” Ron says, pausing the footage and placing his takeout box on the table, moving closer. “Is that Malfoy?”

Harry nods numbly.

“Holy shit,” he echoes, and continues to stare at the furious, cool face of his soulmate.

“I can stay on the case,” Harry insists. As a policy, the Ministry doesn’t allow an Auror to work any case where their soulmate is involved, but Harry thinks these are special circumstances.

No one’s seen Malfoy in years, for one. He went missing before their sixth year – two years of being a prisoner at the manor, Harry knows – and though he appeared briefly, it was only long enough for the healers at St. Mungo’s to take a look at him. He disappeared again afterwards, as soon as he was discharged, and hasn’t been seen or heard from in five years.

Secondly, they’d finished watching the surveillance footage, and Thomas had left for his room after talking to Malfoy, which means he was most likely the last person to see their murder victim alive.

“You cannot be objective about your soulmate, Potter,” Robards says.

Harry would’ve loved not to tell him about this new development in the case, but he’d walked in while Ron and Harry were discussing it, so they’d had to.

“Sir, Malfoy and I are hardly soulmates,” Harry argues. “We haven’t spoken in five years!”

Robards looks at him calculatingly; Harry is his best Auror, and him and Ron work best together. Taking him off the case is a bad decision and he knows it, but if he doesn’t and something goes wrong because of Harry being stupid about Malfoy, it’ll be on him.

“Fine,” he says, finally. “You can stay on the case. Find me Malfoy, find me our murderer, and you do not stay alone with him at any point. If I hear you’ve messed something up because you’ve gone and done something more reckless than usual, I swear I'll fire you, Potter, even if the Minister himself tells me not to.”

Harry nods.

Malfoy opens the door, takes a look at them, and tries to close it again. Harry slaps his hand against the door to stop him, and Malfoy sighs, rolling his eyes and opening the door again, resigned.

“Potter, Weasley. What are you doing here?”

“Edward Thomas was murdered three nights ago,” Harry says; he thinks one of them should have something more to say; they are soulmates, after all. He expected Malfoy to ask how they had found him, five years after leaving the Wizarding World without a trace. Harry sort of wants to know where Malfoy has been, wonders if he’s been here, in muggle St. Rémy de Provence, the entire time, but he is trying to convince himself that he doesn’t care about Malfoy. It's not working; he’s looking at him and there’s an itch just under his skin that he can’t quite get rid of. “And you were the last person to see him alive.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Malfoy says.

Ron shows him a picture of Thomas, and Malfoy’s eyebrow raises marginally.

“Oh,” Malfoy says. “Him.”

“Yes, him,” Ron says, unimpressed. “You are a witness in our murder investigation, Malfoy, and we’d like you to come into the Ministry for an interview.”

“No, thank you,” Malfoy says politely. “We’re in France, which means you have no jurisdiction. You can’t make me.”

“You’re an English wizard,” Harry says, irritated. Malfoy hasn’t changed one bit. “We could bring you in under-”

“Subsection 1359?” Malfoy finishes for him smugly. “That law only applies to active suspects, Potter, and, as you’ve told it, I’m not one.”

“We could make you one,” Harry says. It’s less than moral, and not something Harry would do, not really, but the arrogant look Malfoy keeps giving him is pissing him off. “We know you left the bar before he did, but you could’ve hired someone to kill him.”

Malfoy cocks an eyebrow. “Oh? With what money?”

“The Malfoy fortunes weren’t seized after the war,” Harry says.

“Right.” Malfoy nods. “Except I’m not a Malfoy anymore.”

Harry opens his mouth to argue, and then shuts it again. “What?”

Malfoy – or, well, not Malfoy – opens his hands in a wide gesture. “Emancipated myself from my parents as soon as my trial was over, Potter, and I haven’t done magic in years. I’m officially a muggle. I have a muggle birth certificate, a passport – I'm Monéguasque, by the way, and yes, I chose it just because I like the way it sounds – and even social security and a job. I’m a muggle.”

“What?” Harry demands, because he can’t quite wrap his head around it; Malfoy as a – as a non Malfoy? Malfoy as a muggle?

“Yes,” Malfoy says. “So you can leave me alone.”

And he closes the door on their face.

“Well,” Ron says, awkwardly. “That was – not good.”

“You don’t seem very surprised,” Harry says, mildly, when he and Ron – mostly Harry – have finished their rant about Malfoy.

“Well,” Hermione says, shifting on the sofa. “I knew all of this.”

“What?” Harry and Ron ask.

Hermione sighs and puts down the box of Greek takeout she’d been eating.

“He asked for my help, when the war ended,” she confesses. “I got him the muggle birth certificate, the passport, the school records, all of it. I had help, obviously. Luna was very helpful, unexpectedly. Turns out her father used to be a barrister, and she-”

“Why would you help him?” Harry asks. Then, “Why would he need help?”

“You’ve made him practically untouchable, I hope you know,” Ron says to his wife, kissing her cheek and reaching for another box of takeout. “It’s made our case a thousand times harder.”

“Thank you,” Hermione says, smugly. “That was the point.” She turns to Harry. “Harry, I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but Draco spent two years as Voldemort’s prisoner because he is your soulmate. He lied for us in the manor. He – understandably, I might add – wanted a break from the wizarding world, he asked for my help, and I said yes. It was decent.”

Harry knows, logically, that she is right; that he shouldn’t be as angry as he is about finding out Malfoy has made a successful life for himself in France, and, if he’s honest, he’s not entirely sure why he’s angry.

Maybe – well, a tiny bit of Harry had been excited about knowing who his soulmate was since he was told about them when he was eleven, and, after getting through the initial shock of having Malfoy’s name on his ribcage, he’d hoped they could be – normal, for once.

He should’ve known better; nothing between them is ever simple.

After Malfoy had lied for him in the manor – and Harry knows Malfoy knows it was him, because they could’ve recognized each other blindfolded and with their hands tied simply by the feeling of it – Harry had been stupid enough to think that, since the war was over, now came the easy part.

The part he deserved.

And then Malfoy had disappeared without another word, and Harry had been left without a soulmate and with the entirety of the Wizarding World expecting him to know why his soulmate had left, where he’d gone to, and when he and Harry would get together.

It had been stressful.

“Why did you never mention it?” he asks, finally, and Hermione gives him a knowing look that Harry doesn’t quite understand.

“You would’ve looked for him.”

“I wouldn’t have!”

“Harry,” Hermione says sensibly. “The first year after the war – you were a mess.”

“Excuse me?”

“Not that it’s wrong! Or that it wasn’t understandable, or anything, it’s just-” she exhales, shaking her head, and continues quietly, sorrowful. “We all were. All of us, we were all – Malfoy was, too. You did not see him - I spent only a week visiting him in St. Mungo’s, and it was like he was still trapped in that house. I cannot imagine what it must’ve taken for him to move forward. If you’d gotten together then, you would’ve broken up.”

Harry clenches his jaw and looks away, but he knows she’s right; he barely remembers the year after the war, drowned in a haze of alcohol and sex and potions and clubs and anything that could make him feel even a little better for a second.

Hermione, though looking better from the outside, had been just as bad; she’d thrown herself into her work in a way that had meant she’d needed potions to keep up, and had had a brief addiction to a wizarding version of Adderall, five times as potent. She had spent almost an entire year struggling to stop after Ron and Harry had found out. There’s too much to fix, she’d said, frustrated. I can’t do it any other way.

Ron had been, surprisingly, the least self-destructive of them; he’d spent the first three months in bed, without moving at all, barely eating, and without speaking to anyone. He’d begun getting better after that – he’d seen a mind healer, and had later dragged Hermione and Harry with him, too – and now, thankfully, they’re all successful, functional people.

None of them forget, though.

Harry was surrounded by people who’d gone through what he did, by people who somewhat understood.

He couldn't imagine Malfoy having to live through it in the muggle world, with no one who could understand why he couldn’t sleep at night, why he got lost in his own head.

“I’m going to talk to him again,” he says stubbornly.

Hermione’s smile is wry. “I know you are.”

“Holy shit,” Malfoy jumps when he walks out of his apartment and finds Harry standing there, leaning against the wall. “Don’t you know how to knock, Potter?”

“Would you have opened the door?” Harry asks with a raised eyebrow.

Malfoy glares at him. “If someone won’t open the door for you, the polite thing to do is leave.”

Harry ignores him. “Are you a doctor?”

Malfoy is wearing lavender scrubs, with a navy blue Henley underneath thick white shoes.

“Nurse,” Malfoy corrects, and then seems surprised at himself for having answered. He crosses his arms across his chest defensively. “I’m a neonatal nurse at the hospital.”

“Is it far?”

Malfoy shakes his head mutely.

“I’ll walk you,” Harry offers. Malfoy looks surprised and more than a little bit suspicious, but he chews on his lower lip and nods. Harry lets Malfoy lead the way, and, together, silently, they walk towards the hospital where Malfoy works.

St. Remy de Provence is unexpectedly beautiful; it’s small, and much quieter than Harry’s used to – magical London is busy and loud on the best of days – but it’s cozy, and Malfoy looks truly peaceful.

“What are you doing here, Potter?” Malfoy asks finally, quietly. “I’m not going to help you with your case.”

“I don’t have a case anymore.” Harry shrugs. “I was transferred.”

He’d gone to Robards after he’d seen Malfoy, and had admitted he couldn’t work the case. Robards had already another team waiting.

Malfoy gives a humorless smile. “Should I be expecting another Auror at my door soon, then?”

Harry shakes his head. “I told them you didn’t know anything.”

Malfoy blinks, stunned for a second, and then mutters a quiet ‘thank you’.

They continue walking in silence, and then Harry decides to simply say it.

“I want you to come back.” Malfoy immediately stiffens, and Harry can see he is going to refuse outright, which is why he continues quickly. “It doesn’t have to be right now. I don’t mean to pressure you, and I know you - I know you’ve been dealing with – well, everything, like the rest of us, but – it's not the same without you.”

He wishes he were lying, but he’s not; he’d been unable to sleep the night before, and had, very slowly, very painfully, realized that he’s actually missed Malfoy, all this time. Sixth year without him was worse than ever, and through being on the run, Harry had, secretly, wondered where he was, all the time. He'd checked every day, nearly every hour, his soulmark with Draco’s name in his handwriting, only to make sure that it was still inked black and not a faded grey, to know he wasn’t dead.

Seeing him at the manor – and that is not a memory Harry will ever forget. Seeing Bellatrix dragging him forward with a chain wrapped around his neck had sent blinding fury through Harry – had been a breath of fresh air and relief where there was none, if only for a few seconds. Losing him again so shortly after, when he’d disappeared after being discharged, had been unbearable, even on top of everything else.

“I can’t,” Malfoy whispers.

“What?”

“I can’t.” Malfoy clears his throat, looks away. “I meant it when I said I was a muggle, Potter. I – we're soulmates, and I’ve missed you for some – some reason-” he lets out a disbelieving laugh and shakes his head. “I can’t do magic.”

Harry cannot speak. Then, “What?”

“I can’t do magic anymore,” Malfoy says, louder. “When I was – there - my wand was taken away, and I spent - I spent two years without being able to even touch a wand, let alone do any magic, and – afterwards, I was so – so terrified of them I couldn’t bring myself to grab one.”

“Have you tried?”

Malfoy gives him a look. “Obviously. My therapist – she's a muggle, so I had to come up with some pretty creative metaphors, and I think she knows I'm lying to her – she suggested I try to get more comfortable to eventually start doing it again. I worked on it, and I’m not – afraid anymore, not really, I can be around wands, but - I can’t do magic. I’ve tried, even with the simplest of spells, and I can’t. She says – it's just trauma, I know that, but I can’t.”

Harry stays quiet; he cannot imagine not being able to do magic. It had been one of the few things that got him through everything after the war, and having it taken away – well, fuck.

“I’m sorry,” he says uselessly.

Malfoy gives a tense shrug. “I’ve gotten used to it. But I can’t go back.”

“I-”

“I have to go in.” Malfoy gestures to the big hospital on their right. “I’ll... see you later?”

Harry nods, and watches as Malfoy walks away.

“This is crossing so many lines,” Hermione had said, when Harry had told her of his plan.

Harry is aware he is crossing many, many lines, but he is now outside of Malfoy’s door, so he cannot back down.

He knocks, and, a few seconds later, the door opens; Malfoy seems to have just woken up – and it’s nearly four in the afternoon, but Harry doesn’t know what kind of shifts he works at the hospital, so he’s not judging him too much – and blinks owlishly at him for a few seconds before sliding his gaze to the person standing next to Harry.

“Potter,” he says, very slowly. “What have you done?”

“This is Healer Bo,” Harry says, placing his hand on Malfoy’s door to stop him from – predictably – slamming the door on their faces. Healer Bo is a little old man with dark, greying hair, shorter than both of them but also probably smarter than them combined. “I know you’ve said your therapist thinks it’s trauma, but what if it’s something different?”

“Potter.” And oh, okay, Malfoy is furious, as is evident by the quickly blooming color on his face. “I am not some victim you can focus your – your hero complex on. I told you those things to explain, not to have you turn me into some pet project!”

“That’s not what I'm doing!” Harry defends. “I’m only trying to help you-”

“I didn’t ask for your help!”

“Well, deal with it, you git, because we are soulmates and I want to help you, and I want you to come back, and I want you to be able to do magic because you deserve it!”

“So you just want me to uproot my entire life for you?” Malfoy demands. “Why don’t you come to the muggle world instead of setting me up with a healer appointment I didn’t ask for? He’s not going to be able to do anything!”

“How do you know that?” Harry pushes. “Your therapist is muggle, Malfoy-”

“Don’t call me that, I’m not-”

“Draco, you can’t have told her everything, so her diagnosis can’t be reliable-”

“Well, too bad! I’m not letting some random healer you’ve brought to my door run tests on me-”

“I’ve already run them,” Healer Bo says calmly. “Your magical core is damaged.”

Silence.

“What?” Draco asks, fragile.

“It could be trauma, as well, but it’s not only that,” Healer Bo explains. “Your magical core is damaged. I need you to come into my office so I can run some more tests.”

Harry spreads his hands in an ‘I told you so’ gesture, and Draco throws balled socks at him.

“What did he say?” Harry asks anxiously, standing up as soon as Malfoy comes out the door, Healer Bo following close behind him. “What did you say? What’s wrong?”

Healer Bo and Draco share a look.

“I told you he frets,” Draco tells him.

“You were right,” Healer Bo agrees solemnly, and before Harry can be properly offended, he continues. “Draco's magical core is damaged because of Crucio.”

“That can happen?” Harry asks, frowning.

“That’s what Crucio does,” Healer Bo says. “It cracks one’s magical core. It’s why it feels like everything is burning. If it’s done enough, the magical core can be damaged irreparably.”

Harry holds his breath. “Is - Draco’s-”

“No,” Healer Bo says; Draco can complain all he likes, but he’s beaming beside Healer Bo. “It’s not irreparably damaged. It will be a long process, however. You’ll both need to be patient.”

They both nod, quickly, and Harry asks, “Do I – should I do something?”

“Support your soulmate,” Healer Bo says simply. Draco’s cheeks turn red, but Harry nods seriously. He’ll do anything he can. “I’ve already given Draco the Potions he’ll need to be taking, and we will have to perform Healing spells once every two days. You can either come in here, or I can send one of my interns-”

“We’ll come in,” Harry says immediately; he assumes Bo’s interns are good – Bo is, after all, one of the highest praised healers in the world – but he wants Bo to do it. He won’t trust anyone else with his soulmate.

“Alright,” Bo says. “I’ll see you in two days.”

“What are you thinking about?” Harry had taken Draco out for a late lunch; they’re at the only restaurant reporters never find Harry, a tiny Indian takeout place. The lady who runs it loves Harry, so she never calls the reporters, and doesn’t allow anyone else to call them, either. He’d figured Draco wouldn’t want to be in a Prophet article on his first day back.

“A lot of things,” Draco admits. “The possibility of getting my magic back. The fact that I didn’t quit the hospital before we left, which means that technically I have a shift in twenty minutes, which I figure I’m not going to make. The fact that I have nowhere to live and no money to get a place to live-”

“Come live with me,” Harry blurts. He’s never had the best brain-to-mouth filter.

“What?”

“Live with me,” he repeats. “I’ve - a flat. I moved out of Grimmauld place, it was too – too many memories, but – we can live together, and – if you want to leave, later, I’ll let you, but – well, I'd like it if you stayed.”

Draco stares at him for a moment, and then looks away, a pink flush spreading across his cheeks. “Alright.”

Harry can’t help but grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The recovery of Draco’s magical core is, as the healer had said, slow. Healer Bo tells them that it really helps that they’re together, because being far from one’s soulmate can be greatly stressful, and Harry is glad to be doing what he can. Apart from that, they settle into Harry’s flat quite nicely.

Harry refuses to sleep on the couch – he was about to offer, but then Draco demanded it, so Harry would be damned before he gave up his bed – and Draco refuses to not sleep in the biggest bed available, so they share Harry’s bed, which Harry thinks should feel weird, but it doesn’t.

It feels... right. Like home, sort of.

Time passes much quicker than it used to, without Draco; Harry takes a year leave from the Aurors so he can dedicate, fully, to his soulmate. Draco gets reintegrated to the magical world slowly, and though he cannot do magic, he’s evidently glad to be back.

They even get pets – a fat kneazle that they call Morgana and a huge black crup that they call Godric – and pretty much build their life together. Draco opens a bakery – and really, of all things Harry imagined Draco doing, this was not one of them – and it turns out that Muggle treats are not widely known in the wizarding world, and they are widely liked, once Draco starts selling them. Because he runs the place, he only works during the morning, which means they get to spend their afternoons lounging together in their flat, watching the telly or teasing each other.

“Potter, I swear to Merlin,” Draco growls, glaring tightly at Harry, who’s holding his favorite mug as high as he can reach.

“I’ll give it to you,” Harry tells him. “As soon as you admit that you’re the one who got our reservation wrong.”

“I did not! You said seven!”

“I told you, a thousand times, that our reservation was at six!”

“No, you didn’t!”

Turns out, being soulmates didn’t really stop their fighting, but it’s different now. Harry is rarely truly angry while they argue, unlike before, and Draco is the same way.

“Yes, I did!”

“No you bloody didn’t!” Draco snaps. “Give me my mug back right now, or I’ll - I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” Harry asks smugly. “What will you do to me, Draco?”

Draco glares at him, ears red in his anger, and then grabs Harry’s wand off the counter and yells, ‘Accio’.

The mug flies straight from Harry’s hand into Draco’s. They’re both so surprised it slips from his hands, shattering on the floor.

Neither of them care.

“Did I just-”

“Did you just-”

They look at each other for a moment, before they both break into the biggest grins imaginable. Harry laughs and pulls him in for a tight hug, lifting him and spinning around in their kitchen, miraculously not stepping on any shards of ceramic.

“You just did magic, Draco!” Harry practically yells, not putting him down. “Magic!”

“I did!” Draco’s ecstatic, over the moon, grin wider than Harry’s ever seen. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

And he grabs Harry’s face roughly and pulls him in for a deep kiss.

They both freeze momentarily, and Harry puts him down.

“I’m sorry,” Draco begins immediately. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to - I didn’t - I shouldn’t have-”

Harry pulls him in for another kiss, deeper this time, and pulls him closer, grabbing his hips.

“Don’t apologize,” he pleads. “I’ve been wanting to do that for ages.”

“You have?” Draco sounds surprised.

“Yes,” Harry says, and he kisses him again. Draco wraps his arms around his neck, and Harry lifts him again, sitting him in their kitchen counter, and he can’t get enough, he can’t stop, he can’t.

When they both pull away to breathe – a long, long time later – Harry cannot stop grinning at him.

“I love you,” he says. “Soulmate.”

Draco’s grin is the only thing Harry wants to see for the rest of his life.

“I love you, too,” he says, rubbing their noses together sweetly. “Soulmate.”

And Harry kisses him again, and he thinks that if everything he had to go through was leading to this moment, he’d do it all again, a thousand times, however many times it was necessary, because this? This is everything.

-----------------------------------------

Soulmate AU commissioned by @chinike

Send me a Request :D

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Commissions

#drarry #fanfic #mine #commissions

373 notes · View notes

asleepycoyote · 3 years

Text

My prompts

So I have written some prompts that you can ask to use. I will continue to add more. The ones that have italics or look like 'this' can be anyone's dialogue. I just added it so you know it's not only one person talking. To ask, you can just request the number of the prompt/s you can ask for multiple prompts, but please don't add too many. The ones that have a period at the end of the numbers, don't mind that. That's for me to remember something. Okay, anywho, take your pick :D. Remember you don't have to request one of these, you have your own idea, that's good! I'll be happy to write it! If you have a certain gender you want the reader to be don't forget to ask! You can also request me to add prompts to the list too! Okay so here's the prompts :)

1 "Oh no."

"What is it? What happened? Who died?"

"I think I just felt an emotion."

"You have GOT to be kidding me."

2 "Excuse me. I have to go make a scene."

3 "They're like a hurricane in human form."

4 "Fix it."

"It's a ransom note: I don't care about grammar!"

"There is no excuse for bad grammar."

5 "What does the little blinking light mean?"

"It means... wait blinking light?"

6 "What letter comes after 's' in the alphabet?

"T?"

"Ooh, yes please!"

7 "Why is there a magical portal in the bathtub?!"

8 "I love you from the bottom of my heart, but I don't trust your cooking. Stay out of my kitchen."

9 "We can't have a crisis- my schedule is already full..

10 "How long have you been standing there?

"Longer than you'd like."

11 "Small fire! I said to set a small fire! This is not small!"

12 "I want to go home."

"And I want to go to the moon. It ain't happening, sweetheart. Time to accept that."

13 "It's really not that complicated."

14 "Close the door."

15 "It's three in the morning."

16 "Why are you helping me?"

17 "Just trust me."

18 "What are you thinking about?"

19 "Someday you'll thank me for kidnapping you?"

20 "Who sent you here?"

"I wasn't sent here... if anything, it was an accident."

"Made by whom?"

"Myself, I suppose."

"You sent yourself here on accident?"

"Well, I certainly didn't come here on purpose..."

21 "I just want to be happy."

22 "Can I sleep over? My parents are fighting again."

23 "Why won't you let me help you?!"

24 "You know we make a pretty good team."

25 "You're a horrible liar."

26 "You're freezing. Come here."

27 "I'm saying that because I care about you!

28 "Sing me a song please.

29 "I can explain./!"

30 "Come here."

31 "The real treasure was the memories we made along the way."

"I almost died!"

"Ah yes, that was my fondest memory."

32 "They're crying, what do I do?"

"Go comfort them."

"How do I do that?"

"Start with hugs."

"With what?"

33 "Somehow you don't even have to open your mouth to make my head hurt."

34 "Stop waking me up in the middle of the night."

35 "Any shorter and you'd probably fade out of existence."

36 "I fixed you breakfast. I know it's just a bowl of cereal, but it's the only thing I can't burn."

37 "You just gave off the impression that you want to murder everyone you look at."

38 "It's not my birthday."

"It's definitely your birthday."

"Give me a calendar and I will prove it to—oh. Never mind. Happy birthday to me."

39 "Bold of you to assume I wouldn't just summon a trans-dimensional entity to help me avoid all my problems."

40 "I'm not human. I never was. So, why are you expecting me to act like one?

41 "Everything here can kill you, but I can do it most efficiently."

42 "They took my wallet. Yes, just my wallet. Well.... maybe my passport too."

43 "I don't think of you as a protector. More like a friend."

44 "You deserved that."

45 "Shh, shh. You were dreaming."

46 "I won't leave you behind."

47 "You should be in bed."

48 "What's our exit strategy?"

"Our what?"

"Oh my god, we are all going to die."

49 "Oh my god, you're taking up the whole bed."

50 "I could keep you safe, they're all afraid of me."

51 "I trusted you!"

52 "I know your secret."

"You're gonna have to be more specific there, buddy. Which one? I have a lot of skeletons in my closet."

53 "Who gave you that black eye?!"

54 "Everyone keeps telling me your bad guy."

55 "Why? Because I don't want you to get hurt, that's why!"

56 "You're scared of that, aren't you?"

57 "Come on, when have my calculations ever been wrong?"

"Well-"

"Shut up, that was one time."

58 "Enjoying the view, sunshine?"

59 "While I do enjoy the silent treatment, I wasn't aware I had done anything to you."

60 "I think that's enough."

61 "They deserved it."

62 "What... is this?"

63 "You can't be serious!"

64 "I'm not sorry!"

65 "Who are you?"

"Oh sweetheart, I'm your worst nightmare."

"Wait a minute. Your that guy that tripped over my shoes on the bus this morning and said thank you-"

66 "Just because I'm helping you doesn't mean I care, your death would be a minor inconvenience. That's all."

67 "You owe me."

68 "Don't make me come in there."

69 "Don't touch me."

70 "That wasn't funny."

71 "I am fully convinced you never graduated kindergarten."

72 "Am I doing it right?"

73 "For God's sake! Who have you killed now?"

74 "Do you even know how to fly this thing?"

"Normally, I'd lie and say yes, but considering the fact that I almost flew us into that building, I'm going to assume you know the answer."

75 "What are you doing?! Don't eat it!"

76 "Feel free to admire me."

77 "You're insane!"

"I know! Isn't it great?"

78 "You don't know a thing."

79 "The truth is I never loved you."

80 "Is this a game to you?"

81 "Stop yelling at me."

"I'm not yelling at you! I'm just... being abnormally projective in the vocal region!"

"Otherwise known as yelling..."

82 "Don't ever forget me. Please?"

83 "I screwed up."

84 "You're my regret."

85 "No, sir. I am not underestimating the kidnappers. YOU are understanding my grandmother."

86 "Stay away from the llama."

87 "No one visits my grave anymore... wait. I don't even have a grave!"

88 "Tuna shamed."

89 "Well, I can scratch that off my bucket list."

"Who puts getting arrested on their bucket list?!"

90 "I-I can't stop it. I'm sorry..."

"It's okay, it's okay. Just breathe. You don't have to be sorry for anything. I got you."

91 "What am I supposed to tell my parents? 'Hi mom and dad, I ,snuck out past curfew, almost died, discovered I can teleport, and now I'm joining a gang of superheroes.'"

"Maybe don't use the word 'gang'."

"You think that's the part they'll have the most trouble with?!"

92 "Give me the wallet or I shoot."

"No."

"What do you mean no? I'm serious, I will shoot you."

"Let me repeat myself. No."

"Um... okay I guess."

"Aren't you going to shoot me?"

"I don't know. This hasn't happened before."

"Well, until you do, wanna grab a bite to eat? I'm starving."

93 "Watch me."

94 "I thought you were dead."

95 "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

96 "Was that supposed to hurt?"

97 "You have to leave right now."

"I love you."

99 "I hate you.

100 "I didn't catch your name."

"I didn't throw it."

101 "How long has it been since you last ate something?"

102. "No, don't look at me!"

103. "How many marshmallows can you eat?"

104 "Why did you kick so much in your sleep? Are you constantly dreaming about soccer?"

105 "Destroying lives, one person at a time."

106 "Why exactly do you need chloroform at 2am.

107 "Just breathe."

108. "STOP EATING MY LASAGNA FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!"

109. "I don't understand why you should feel the urge to do that."

110. "I trust you."

"Wow, that incredibly... stupid of you."

111 "You broke my heart and all you can say is sorry?"

112 "You can't really blame me can you? You can only blame yourself."

113. "You keep painting me as the villain."

"Because you are the villain."

114. "Who could ever love someone like you?"

115 "I never stood a chance, did I?"

"That's the sad part - you did once."

116 "I've missed this."

117. "Who are you to tell me how to live my life?"

118. "Are you going to yell at me too? I guess I do deserve it."

119 "I don't want to have another surgery."

120. "Quit touching the IV."

121 "I was going to say something mean about them, but decided against it."

122 "How do you like raisins? How do you feel about a date?"

123. "Are you going to stand there or are you going to kiss me? I'm tired of lying to my diary."

#my writing prompts #dialogue prompt

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valwrite · 4 years

Text

leap frog; daveed diggs

masterlist.

summary: rafael casal can’t keep a secret. (read the sequels: hopscotch, hide & seek.)

warnings: possible second hand embarrassment, fluff, mentions of murder, cursing

fic type: drabble

word count: 2366

author’s note: ahaha, i hate myself for writing this but i also love it, gn. feedback is appreciated! oh, and if i don’t reply to a comment or something, it’s just cause i’m dumb as shit and haven’t figured out how tf to do that yet 🥰

It was official. Y/N L/N was going to murder Rafael Casal.

And, boy, would she make sure it looked like an accident.

The man was a nuisance, a mad man, a big mouthed buffoon. And the reason she now had to avoid one Daveed Diggs at all costs from here on out. Considering Rafael lived just one door down from her made this a challenge, as Daveed had a habit of treating the other man's apartment as a second home.

The trouble began two weeks prior, when, after a miserable night out, Y/N had stumbled into the building elevator, feet aching to get out of her heels and breasts desperate to be freed from their confinement. Before she'd had the chance to press her floor button, a hand slid between the closing doors and in stepped Rafael Casal. The two exchanged glances and greetings before riding up to their shared floor in a comfortable and welcomed silence. Had this exchange taken place three months before, perhaps Y/N would have felt a lot more awkward and intimidated by her attractive neighbor. However, things had changed between them ever since they'd become friends. She'd tag along on nights out with his friends (who'd seamlessly welcomed her in as one of their own) and he'd come round for dinner every time he so much as smelt her cooking from next door. The elevator had reopened and the hallway they shared came into view. That was when Rafa made the proposal she'd end up regretting: “Do you wanna come in for a few drinks?”

She'd accepted because, well, it was free alcohol. The fact that his company was anything but bad was just an added bonus. A few drinks turned into many, even some shots finding their way into the mix of things, as she and Rafa talked the night away: she shared details of the horrible blind date she'd been set up on that evening while he ranted about how insufferably boring Daveed had been, claiming the man hadn't brightened up the whole night after hearing Y/N would not be in attendance at their get-together. She was sure her cheeks had turned as red as they'd felt when Rafa made that revelation.

The real mistake came towards the end of their drinking session and, really, neither of them knew how to explain how or why they wound up locking lips. What they did know was the following: it was a meaningless kiss, both of them laughed right after and it had been the most uncomfortable kiss either of the two had shared in their adult lives. Kissing him, Y/N would later realize, wasn't the problem though. It was what the kiss had unearthed.

“Oh my god, you have the hots for Diggs?!”

In three months of friendship, Y/N had learned three fundamental things about Rafael Casal: he preferred pancakes over waffles, friendship with him was a package deal that included Daveed Diggs and, lastly, Rafael Casal was the biggest gossip in town.

Any secret, any hook up, any scandal. You name it and it was almost a guarantee that, not only did Rafa know about it but he was the source of it all. So, having him become aware on the fact she had a massive crush on his best friend? Yeah, there was no chance in hell Y/N could ever speak to Daveed again without self-combusting in embarrassment.

Now, back to present times, where Y/N finds herself tiptoeing around her own apartment, anything capable of making noise switched off and her own breathing being the only sound in the living space. Five minutes had passed since Daveed had last knocked at her door, saying nothing but her name yet still managing to put her on edge.

The logical part of her brain told her to open the door, because the poor guy was probably just confused as to why she had suddenly started ignoring his texts and stopped hanging with him and Rafa while they watched the Warriors play. The rest of her brain told her to stay put, wait it out and, once she was sure Diggs had left the building, grab the participation trophy she'd been given back in elementary school and use it to go beat Rafael's ass.

Operation: Avoid Double D was working, much to her own surprise, and she'd even started to feel a little impressed with herself when- thud! - a noise came from her balcony. The door of it lay wide open, much like the book she'd been reading out there before Daveed had come knocking, but the curtains were drawn shut, gently moving with the breeze from outside. Like a scene from a cheesy horror movie, she approached the balcony with caution, reached out to draw the curtain aside and gasped at the sight of Daveed comfortably sat in her chair, skimming through her book- a very, very worn out copy of Emma by Jane Austen - and sipping on her iced tea.

“I... How... What...” There wasn't a coherent sentence to be found in Y/N's brain. “Why are you on my balcony?”

“Well,” Daveed snapped her book shut and discarded it on to the small table next to him, all the while smiling innocently up at her. “I knocked on the door and you didn't answer.”

“So you figured breaking and entering was the only solution?!”

“Hey, hey, there was no breaking involved. Just, y'know, entering.” He stood up, reminding her of how much taller he was. “You're the one that left your balcony door open to the world, I just took advantage of that and jumped over from Rafa's.”

Y/N couldn't help but turn her back on him to gaze over at Rafael's own balcony. A fresh batch of laundry had been sat out to dry on it and Y/N noticed how the only plant Rafa owned had now died, nothing left but a dried up mess in it's place. She then thought of the space between the two balconies and, more importantly, the space beneath them both. Granted, she wasn't living in some top floor luxury apartment but she imagined a seven story drop was nothing short of unpleasant. Yet there was Daveed, all smiles and charms, having just jumped over the space as if it were nothing but some innocent, childish game of leap frog. She both wanted to scold him for being so reckless and praise him for being so brave.

Until she remembered the fact she was supposed to be avoiding him and this, clearly, was ruining any of her attempts.

“What do you need so badly from me that it compelled you to do something as stupid as that?” It seemed to be that scolding was the option she'd chosen.

“Answers.” Oh god no. That's it, time to eBay a body bag and a fake passport.

“Answers to what exactly?” When she was a child, Y/N had always tried to play coy to avoid confrontation. It appeared to be she hadn't changed much with age.

“Do you have any of those blueberry muffins left?” Okay, that was not where she thought this conversation was going. “Rafa ran out of the batch you made him and he's too afraid to ask you for more, since you demanded payment last time, so he sent me over here to charm two muffins out of your pantry.”

“You're in luck. I made some last night.” They could have every last piece of food in her kitchen for all she cared, so long as that were the only thing Daveed wanted from her. Though, she was still contemplating manslaughter when it came to Rafa considering he'd sent over Daveed, knowing fine well why she was steering clear of the man. He was shameless in his meddling.

“So,” Daveed's voice and footsteps followed behind her into the apartment as she desperately aimed for the kitchen area. “how come you didn't answer the door earlier?”

“I was, uh,” I was trying to avoid you because I want nothing more than to bake muffins with you and have you nakedly recite poetry to me and that's an issue because we're friends and you don't even think about me that way. “Shower. I was showering.”

“You hair's not wet.”

“Never heard of a hair dryer? Jeez old man, catch up.” At this point, her hands were clammy from her own nervous sweat but she'd pulled out the tray of muffins and shoved the lot of them over to him. All she had to do was get him out of her apartment, then things would be fine. “Here you go, thanks for stopping by. See you later.”

“Wow, wow, wow! Calm down, girl!” Did he have to smile at her like that? “Why're you trying to get rid of me? I asked for two muffins, Y/N, not the whole batch.”

“Just take them, I forgot that I don't really like blueberries anyways.” If there was an Olympic sport for colossal idiots, she'd have won gold, silver and bronze.

“You didn't answer my question,” Daveed took one step forward and she took one step back, internally screaming as she felt her back bump against the counter. “why're you trying to get rid of me?”

“I'm not!”

“Okay then, why haven't you been answering my texts or calls?”

“Because I lost my phone.”

“The same phone that I saw on your coffee table?”

“You found it! My hero!” The body bag was no longer going to be used on Rafa, she was pretty sure she was one more comment away from dying of embarrassment.

“Y/N.” When had Daveed gotten so close to her? And why did he have to say her name like that? Her hand gripped on to the surface behind her and she gulped, struggling to maintain eye contact with him.

“Daveed.” She replied lamely, just begging that he'd turn around, grab the tray of muffins and leave.

“What's really up?” His words were softer and more serious, much like the look in his eyes. “You won't answer your phone, you haven't watched the recent games with us, you won't answer the door to me. I just... Look, if I done something or said something that made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry. I really miss you though, so does Rafa. So if there's anything I can do to fix whatever I did, just tell me. I'll do it. Anything.”

And now, ladies and gentleman, please buckle your seat-belts and get ready for take off, destination: Guilt Trip.

“No. Fuck, Daveed, no. You didn't do anything. Trust me, it's all my fault. I'm really sorry.” The words tumbled out of her quickly whilst her eyes fixated themselves with staring down at her nervous hands. “I know that Rafa told you and, just, I'm really sorry. I promise, I'm trying to get rid of them, it's why I've sort of been avoiding you. I don't want to ruin our friendship.”

“Rafa told me... what? Who are you trying to get rid of?”

“Wait,” Oh sweet hypothetical baby Jesus, had Rafael Casal not spilled the beans? Did he really not know? “he didn't tell you?”

“I'm confused.” Daveed said, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he continued to gaze down at her. “Was he supposed to tell me something? Wait, did he make a move on you or something? Cause I'll put him in his place if I have to.”

“Technically we made a move on each other.” The words flew out of her before she could stop it and she noticed immediately how his face contorted into a frown. “Not in that way! It was just a drunk kiss that we both regretted.”

“And he was supposed to tell me about it?”

“Huh? No! Ugh, look Daveed,” She'd already made a fool of herself enough, she may as well just round it all off with the mother of all embarrassments. Go big or go home, right? And, well, she was technically already home and with nowhere else to go. “I like you. Like, the way a bee likes honey or the way a dog likes a bone. A lot. But I get it, you don't like me and that's chill but would you please just give me the time and space to sort myself out and get over it so we can go back to being friends?”

“But I don't wanna be friends with you, Y/N.” Well done, idiot. So much for honesty being the best policy. “I mean, I don't know how I feel about being compared to honey or a bone but I do know how I feel about you. I think you're smart and beautiful, and stubborn and kind of a dork. And I really like it, you. I really like you.”

“Oh.” Oh? Oh?! Fucking oh!? That's all you can say to that. She couldn't stand living in her own head-space.

“I'm gonna ignore the fact that you and Rafa made out or whatever and just get straight to the point of asking you on a date. Tomorrow night, seven pm. Wear something easy to move around in.” Gentle fingers tilted Y/N's head up by her chin, forcing her to stare into his eyes. They were warm and welcoming, like chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven and melting with love. “Who knows, maybe by the end of the night you'll finally get a good kiss from a Bay Boy.”

“Why would Rafa kiss me at the end of our date?” At least she could still joke among the shock. “And you more or less just demanded I go on a date with you. No questions were made.”

“If demanding is what it takes,” He leaned down, his mouth hovering dangerously close to hers. “then so be it.”

Where she'd expected a kiss, she found nothing but empty space and the sight of Daveed picking two muffins out of the tray. Wide eyed and honestly a little confused about what events had just transpired in her kitchen, she watched as he finally headed for her door, suddenly not enjoying the thought of him leaving as much as before.

“Oh, and Y/N?” He was halfway out of her apartment, grinning back at her. “Rafa did tell me, I just wanted to hear you say it yourself.”

He slammed the door shut on the sound of Y/N cursing out the very man that was Rafael Casal.

#daveed x reader #daveed diggs #daveed diggs x reader #daveed diggs drabble #daveed diggs fanfiction #daveed diggs oneshot #daveed diggs imagine #daveed diggs scenario #daveed diggs fluff #daveed diggs hamilton #daveed diggs clipping.#valwrite #daveed diggs x y/n

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imreallyloveleee · 3 years

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thoughts on 4x15

another good one!!! it’s almost annoying how enjoyable this 4x14 - 4x16 stretch is, because it’s proof that they can make this show watchable for more than 3 minutes at a time, if only they put some effort and planning into it. anyway

- this episode addresses the eternal question, “what the actual fuck is wrong with Alice Cooper?”, and the answer is: everything

- how much fun do you think Mary had going “don’t answer that Archie. don’t answer that Archie. don’t answer that Archie” in response to every single question FP asked him in the interrogation room

- i love Toni’s expression when Cheryl apologizes for calling Jughead a hobo, twice

- Hermosa shows up in at least 3 scenes to be like “ho ho ho, guess what Veronica, i used my incredible private investigator skills to discover [thing]”. i am literally writing this 20 minutes after watching the episode and already cannot remember a single thing about this plot other than it exists

- oh, and that Hermosa gives Veronica a fake passport that must be made of tissue paper, because Veronica shreds it into quarters with absolutely zero effort

- lest anyone’s memory start convincing them that Donna and Bret are a couple of criminal masterminds: the two of them have a loud conversation in which they discuss Jonathan smearing Jughead’s blood all over a rock, with the door to Bret’s dorm room open. lol

- speaking of Jonathan, the Bunny Corcoran of Stonewall Prep: Donna clearly killed him for some perceived slight. WHAT WAS IT?

- Reggie’s brief talking head scene is so great

- Kevin’s, on the other hand, is not. “Betty and Archie are predestined...but even Betty isn’t crazy enough to date Archie if Jughead were alive.” what does that even mean, Kevin

- Sweet Pea is in this episode. unnecessarily aggro as usual. do we know if he’s back in season 5? i hope not

- Hiram shows up at Jughead’s funeral to fire FP. L O L. this guy.

- imagine you’re a random Serpent attending Jughead’s funeral, and then his girlfriend starts reading a scene from a Sherlock Holmes novel about two men wrestling one another over a cliff.

- it’s a “Serpent tradition” to have your closed casket funeral in your living room, fyi

- watching Donna slap Bret in the face is great! i’d like to see more of that.

- Cheryl goes to find Veronica in the bathroom because she “deserves to hear it in person” that Betty and Archie were kissing, even though Cheryl just sent a blast text of it to the entire school that somehow magically excluded Veronica, Betty, and Archie only

- watching that scene where Veronica pretends to be angry at Betty and Archie, i realized we’re going to have to watch that scene all over again in the prom episode, only the emotions will be amped up and real this time. i hate it. i hate it so much

- but back to things i love: Donna goes all the way across town to Riverdale High just so she can tell Betty what a nympho she is to her face. 12/10

- THERE WERE THREE MILKSHAKES, BRET!!!! Donna is just so fun in this episode. she’s got a lot in common with Jughead, who is also prone to falling down conspiracy theory rabbit holes that then end up being correct

- Betty and Jughead in the fuck bunker, omgggggg. she made him a new beanieeeeeeeeeeeeee. that’s gonna come back and punch us in the heart, guaranteed. the way they look at each other in this scene just melts me.

- I’m very happy that Jellybean was in on the conspiracy, because it’s too heartbreaking to imagine her really thinking her big brother was dead the whole time, plus she probably had a lot of fun hiding secrets from Alice

- this episode ends on Jughead getting really excited about some info Veronica found about Donna (is that what Hermosa was talking about earlier? i just tune out everything she says) and turning to the murder board, which has now migrated to the fuck bunker somehow. it’s so delightful. we missed you Jughead!!!

#loveleee rewatches riverdale season 4 #riverdale

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pointlesswalks · 3 years

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Never Look Away

Biographical films are strange beasts in that they are, perhaps somewhat unfairly, expected to cleave closer to truth than ordinary dramas. Biographical films about artists, moreover, carry the extra burden of attempting to locate the genesis or turning point in an entire artistic style whilst only showing a small part of an artist’s life. Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck’s 2018 film, Never Look Away, is loosely based on the life of German artist, Gerhard Richter, and by the time we get to the end of the 180-plus minute running time, we get the impression that Kurt Barnert (Tom Schilling) – Richter’s stand-in – has become a fully formed artist. How we get there isn’t entirely clear or convincing, but, strangely, it’s not entirely to the detriment of the film.

The film covers the Kurt’s years as a child living under one totalitarian system, that of the National Socialists’, as a young man living under another, that of the German Democratic Republic, and of his escape with his wife to West Germany where he finally achieves both his personal and critical artistic breakthrough. Complicating matters is that Barnet’s father-in-law, Professor Carl Seeband (Sebastian Koch), is the man responsible for the sterilization and euthanasia of one of Kurt’s aunts.

Never Look Away was inspired by the revelation in Jürgen Schreiber’s book, Ein Maler aus Deutschland, that Richter’s father-in-law, Heinrich Eufinger, a high-ranking SS-doctor, had actually been responsible for the forced sterilisation of women no longer deemed fit to procreate by the National Socialist regime. One of these women, it turns out, was Richter’s aunt, Marianne Schönfelder, the subject of one of his celebrated photorealistic, blurred paintings, Aunt Marianne (1965). Henckel von Donnersmarck punches up the drama somewhat, and Marianne, an aunt Richter barely knew, has become Elisabeth May, a vibrant young woman, much involved in young Kurt’s life and who is intent on developing his interest in art. It is also this aunt that delivers the invocation of the (English) film’s title, the command to “never look away,” a command that Kurt will carry with him.

The film opens in 1937 Dresden at an exhibition of “Degenerate Art” hosted by the Nazi party which includes works by luminaries such as Picasso, Mondrian, Kandinsky and others. The guide explains that the abstractions expressed by these artists can only either be the product of some hereditary disease or otherwise a pernicious attempt to undermine society. The natural conclusion is that creators of such works should, in the latter case, be open to criminal sanction, or that, tellingly, in the former, steps should be taken such that their peculiar “ocular afflictions” are not passed to future generations: the seeds of the Final Solution have already been sown.

The young Kurt Barnet (Cai Cohrs) is accompanied to the exhibition by his aunt, Elisabeth (Saskia Rosendahl), who quietly confides in Kurt that she rather likes the “degenerate” art that is on display. Elisabeth’s approval of these works isn’t driven by an ideological sensibility – although the Barnert family seem decidedly anti-Nazi – but rather that more clichéd, banal one in which “madness” informs artistic receptivity. Elisabeth suffers from schizophrenia, and the same affliction which can drive her to ecstasy when hearing a symphony of bus horns or when witnessing the pomp of a Nazi parade is what will ultimately see her treated so monstrously by Professor Seeband when she is finally institutionalised .

Kurt finds Elisabeth the morning after the Nazi parade, naked at the piano, and in the middle of a full-blown psychotic break and rambling about having discovered “the code of the universe.” It is as a result of this breakdown that Elisabeth is forcefully taken to a sanatorium. As she is removed by the nurses, we get an important shot from Kurt’s point-of-view, a shot that comes to represent the film’s most significant recurrent visual motifs. As Kurt lifts his hand up to cover his eyes from the awful scene of his beloved aunt being sedated and forced into an ambulance, the camera focuses on his hand. When his hand drops away, the scene behind it remains blurred. This visual motif will gain significance each time Henckel von Donnersmarck employs it, its significance becomes clearer to the audience such that by the time Kurt produces his first blurred painting, they know exactly how to read it. The key for how to read this motif, however, is present right there the first time we see it, in the very first shot of the film, in fact. The film opens with a blurred shot of the degenerate art exhibition, and the first thing we see in focus is the face of the Nazi tour guide when it comes into the shot before he delivers his polemic against degenerate art.

Both Kurt and Professor Seeband find success in the new East German regime: Kurt, by excelling in art school and making a name for himself as a muralist of socialist realism works; and the professor by successfully concealing his past as a Nazi and becoming an “active co-creator of the [the] Socialist Republic.” However, where the professor has slotted quite naturally into the new regime Kurt can’t quite resign himself to the abandonment of innovation and artistic freedom demanded of him in order to make socialist realism art. Once again we see the blurred visual motif at play: as Kurt’s art teacher implores his students to reject the “Ich, ich, ich” of the innovator while paradoxically beseeching them to “Be different, gentlemen. Be different,” artworks by Picasso, Francis Bacon and Max Ernst are continuously coming in and out of focus as they are passed through an episcope. As at the exhibition of degenerate art, the discussion of “ideology” only serves to obscure. It is also at art school where Kurt meets his future wife, another Elisabeth (Paula Beer) who he insists on calling Ellie, and who bears more than a passing resemblance to his now deceased aunt.

In the West, Kurt finds himself at the mercy of a different, but just as limiting, regime. Where in the East art was made to service the worker’s revolution, in the West, “money is all that counts,” and one doesn’t innovate to make good art but to find the idea that allows one to stand apart from the rest. Kurt’s teacher is Professor Antonius van Verten (Oliver Masucci), a stand-in for Joseph Beuys, who was in actuality for a time a contemporary of Richter. van Verten, dismissed as a maniac by his students, particularly because his idea – making art using only felt and grease – isn’t considered to be interesting, nevertheless locates true freedom in art and urges his students to develop their own subjective abilities without reference to external guidelines. van Verten is intrigued by Kurt but can tell immediately that the work he is creating isn’t reaching its full potential, because there is nothing about it that is true to Kurt. The professor confides to Kurt of his time in the war, of being shot down over Crimea with terrible head wounds that should have killed him. He recalls how Tatar nomads nursed his wounds with grease and wrapped him in felt. van Verten concludes that if he were to distil everything he had learnt in his life, if he had to make a claim about what he truly knew, it would be the feeling of felt and grease. Armed with this, Kurt abandons his first aborted attempts at art, and after a slow start, he paints his first photograph, a painting of Dr. Burghart Kroll (Rainer Bock), architect of the program that saw Kurt’s aunt sterilised and murdered by his father-in-law. A second painting follows, of his beloved aunt, Elisabeth. And in a moment of insight – and we see once again the shot of young Kurt’s hand dropping away from his eyes and the blurred shot of his aunt being taken away – Kurt deliberately brushes his photo-realistic painting over his painting creating a blur.

Here we come to the jarring contradiction at the heart of the film. The visual motif Henckel von Donnersmarck consistently deploys is of blurred, out of focus shots. In Never Look Away these shots, when out of focus, paradoxically, represent a deeper access to truth. However, the culmination of Kurt’s idea is a composite painting which layers a picture of his aunt, a passport photo of Professor Seeband and the photograph of Kroll – it’s the sort of composite painting that Richter never made. When Professor Seeband sees this painting in Kurt’s studio, he loses his composure for the first time. However, if we consider what exactly spooked Professor Seeband, it’s not that Kurt’s painting, by virtue of being blurred, revealed a deeper truth that otherwise would have remained hidden, but that the painting clearly – with respect to what it represented, not how it represented it – revealed his involvement with Elisabeth’s death. Furthermore, it is inconceivable that Kurt – who knows his father-in-law enjoyed preening around in his SS uniform, who knows he is a world-class gynaecologist who happened to work in a hospital at around the time Elisabeth was treated, who knows his father-in-law deceived Kurt and his wife into having an abortion that he then himself went ahead and performed – fails to see any sort of connection between his painting and his father-in-law’s past.

Another contradiction is in the nature of reality in Never Look Away. The film is a drama grounded in conventional cinematic realism so that when Elisabeth has her psychotic breakdown and begins to ramble on about the code of the universe we aren’t expected to think for a second that there is a code to the universe. This isn’t to say that the film is spiritually devoid. The moment of artistic transcendence for both Kurt and certainly for Professor van Verten is spiritual, but it is also decidedly not supernatural. Henckel von Donnersmarck undercuts the materialist nature of his film with the inclusion of two sequences. The first comes towards the end of the war when a slightly older Kurt witnesses the bombing of Dresden. As Kurt looks into the Dresden night, shots alternate not only between the planes dropping their bombs and carnage taking place in Dresden, but also of the Russian front, where we witness his brothers die, and of his sister being led into a chamber as the Nazi party prepares to liquidate her. The editing of the shots, in particular with respect to Kurt’s searching eyes, give the sequence distinct impression that Kurt can somehow see or is aware of these other events taking place. Even more troubling is the second sequence. When Elisabeth is first brought to the office of Professor Seeband, she makes her way first to a clock, then comments on a picture drawn by the professor’s daughter, Elly, and then, finally, on learning that she is going to be sterilised, she cowers in a corner of his office. Some twenty years later Kurt has been invited to Professor Seeband’s office in order to paint his portrait. While waiting for the professor, Kurt’s eyes linger on the clock first, then on Elly’s drawing, before widening with fear and turning to the same corner where his aunt had cowered. What are we to make of his preternatural sight?

Intentionally or not, Henckel von Donnersmarck’s film, with its contradictions and what can only be described as deviations from narrative coherence, somehow works because they echo something of Richter’s pronouncements about his own work. Try to find something about why Richter blurs his photo-realistic paintings... His statements are sometimes contradictory, oftentimes confusing, and never entirely clear; this is not because Richter doesn’t know what he’s talking about but rather because he is either suspicious of or not entirely interested in that sort of precision. After all, this is the man who once said, “To talk about painting is not only difficult but perhaps pointless, too.” At the heart of Never Look Away is a major fabrication, in which the nature of Richter’s relationship to his aunt was entirely embellished. Henckel von Donnersmarck made this change because reality, as it stood, simply didn’t make for a good film. These changes, like the blurring of Richter’s paintings, inexorably lead us to some sort of truth. Perhaps this is why Richter can denounce the film saying it both distorts his biography but still remains too true for him to watch.

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leverage-ot3 · 4 years

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notable moments from The Zanzibar Marketplace Job

leverage 2.12

Hardison: Two weeks in Tokyo. We'd have a great time.

Parker: What are we stealing?

Hardison: We don't steal anything. We'd be tourists.

Parker: Not following you

hardison: BE DOMESTIC WITH ME PLS

- - - - -

Waitress (puts down beer): There you go.

Eliot: Ahh. Thank you, sweetheart.

Waitress: Anytime.

(Nate kicks Eliot under the table)

Eliot: What? Really? What, I can't have a friend?

Nate: Join a softball team

me whenever eliot flirts with someone other than parker or hardison

- - - - -

Tara: You know he's drinking again.

Eliot: I'm not an idiot, Tara.

Tara: I was told this was a problem.

Eliot: The drinking is not a problem. It's a symptom

this!!!

also eliot’s hair braids are adorable

- - - - -

(Sterling walks into the bar behind Eliot, approaches table)

Nate: Eliot, I'm gonna ask you not to do anything violent.

Eliot: What? What are you talking about? I only use violence As a - as a - as an appropriate response.

Sterling: Hello, Nate.

(Eliot’s face turns murderous and he turns to punch Sterling in the face, then proceeds to throw him down on a table and continue punching him. The bartender moves to call the police, but Hardison stops him by passing him money, Parker watches enthusiastically)

Tara: And this is?

Nate: James sterling. We used to work together. Insurance.

Tara: He seems to rub Eliot the wrong way.

Nate: You think?

(Nate walks over to where Eliot is still beating Sterling, and now has him by the throat)

parker and hardison literally have heart eyes for eliot in this scene ??? ot3 ???

hardison bribing the bartender not to call the police? parker watching like she’s being turned on or something? eliot’s face right before he hears sterling’s voice? sterling hitting eliot with a stick? CHAOTIC

- - - - -

Tara: Okay. Is there any chance she took the egg?

Parker: No. Maggie's the most honest person we know. But besides that, she's okay.

parker adores maggie

- - - - -

Sterling: You live and work here?

Nate: Yeah.

Sterling: I like the old place better.

Hardison: Do not mention the old offices.

people that have no rights: sterling

- - - - -

they had a legit P I L E of passports ready ??? SO MANY

- - - - -

Tara: Okay, you cannot out-bureaucrat a former Soviet Union bureaucrat. These guys gamed the most corrupt system on earth for 50 years. Paperwork's not gonna cut it. They're used to trading favors, not forms.

- - - - -

Nate: I just need some proof.

Parker: It was an inside job. Average keypad hack time is 1 minute, 9.3 seconds. Inner door access card takes at least 30 seconds for anybody but Hardison, and then the vault was an old Mark II Remington. In and out average - 7 minutes, 40 seconds. But these thieves, they did it in 5 minutes, 12 seconds. Maggie had the best access, so the real thieves only had to get her codes and badge. Yeah, only way they could pull it off that fast.

Sterling: How long has she been sitting..

sterling being utterly BAFFLED by parker is my aesthetic

+ she’s wearing a leather jacket AND a cute red flannel,,, the bi energy is strong

- - - - -

Parker: It's your first time being a fugitive, so I made you a bag..

Maggie: Thank you, Parker. It's not that I don't appreciate getting out of jail, I just can't live my life a fugitive.

Nate: But you're not a fugitive.

Parker: Passports, money, lock picks.

Nate: You were released, not broken out.

Parker: Toothpaste, explosives. Do not mix these up.

Maggie: Thank you, Parker.

Parker: This looks like gum. Not gum. Diamond-edged file blade.

Nate: Yeah, yeah. That's great.

Parker: She needs this stuff.

maggie is such a Mom™ rolling with parker’s antics and we love her for that

also PARKER IS TRYING SO HARD TO BE NICE BECAUSE SHE LIKES AND CARES ABOUT MAGGIE AND WE LOVE TO SEE IT

- - - - -

Parker: So, I took your advice and did the whole touristy thing. Went to the museum, and it was amazing.

Hardison: You see?

Parker: Yeah. They have a guardian T-840 security system. I've only seen those things in books. And the motion detectors - ooh, gorgeous! Six digital receptors. Six!

Hardison: What about the paintings?

Parker: What about the paintings?

she reads about security systems in books? omg I love it

- - - - -

Parker: We meet on internet.

hi I’m sorry but the way she said it was hilarious

- - - - -

Hardison: Alexander's got a travel visa to the United Arab Emirates. He's also setting up accounts in the Caymans, Macau, and Switzerland.

Nate: Yes, countries with no extradition treaty, tax havens

- - - - -

Tara: I got this one.

Eliot: Really? What are you gonna say to him? 'cause we got no cover story. We got no background on this cat.

Tara: Okay. That's it, then. I won't say anything. Really. Not one word. Just when he turns around and looks at you, do that thing with your eyes that scares people.

Eliot: I don't... know what you're talking about.

Tara: Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about.

Eliot: Pffff.

(Tara sits down next to Chernov and grabs his lunch, taking a bite)

Chernov: What the... Who the hell are you? Do I know you? Did Samuels send you?

(Tara moves a little, still chewing Chernov’s lunch)

Chernov: I paid them off. I took care of it.

(Tara looks over her shoulder at Eliot, who is scowling)

Chernov: Oh, god. Please. Is this about the item?

(Tara throws up her hands)

Chernov: I didn't know. No one told me.

(Tara checks her watch and stands up)

Chernov: Wait! Here. This is all I have. (hands her envelope) I'll back out. I'm sorry.

(Tara gives Chernov back his lunch)

Chernov: Sorry! (walks away)

Tara (rejoins Eliot and gives him the envelope): What we imagine is always so much better than the reality.

Eliot: Like love?

this whole scene was iconic

- - - - -

Sophie: Well, the prospective buyers are invited by their black-market contacts. They show up, they verify the merchandise, and they make a sealed bid. Hey, um, shine an ultraviolet light on that card.

(Hardison pulls a light from a bag and shines in on the card)

Eliot: Seriously? You have one just laying around?

he had one on his keychain in The Ice Man Job and boy do I love continuity

- - - - -

Tara: Parker, double reverse on three.

(Tara places envelope on tray, Parker takes envelope and passes it to Eliot)

we LIVE for smooth hand-offs

+ eliot did the flip thing with the envelope

- - - - -

Sterling: You're welcome. I don't know how you people ever manage – (flinches at feedback on com)

[Interior Van]

Hardison: Oh, I'm sorry, man. That just happens sometimes with the ear buds - You know, feedback.

[Embassy Hallway]

Sterling: As I was saying, the method - (flinches at feedback on com)

[Interior Van]

Hardison: Sorry.

[Embassy Hallway]

Sterling: This isn't gonna stop until I - (flinches at feedback on com)

[Interior Van]

Hardison: Stop talking. Shh. Please

PARKER’S SMILE AT HARDISON FUCKING WITH STERLING? AMAZING

- - - - -

parker is wearing a flannel now :)

+ the leather jacket she wears over it a little later

- - - - -

(Sterling pulls phone from his pocket)

Eliot: What are you doing?

Sterling (dialing): Calling the police. They don't get to dictate to -

Eliot (grabs phone): We're not calling the cops. Two hostages means they can kill one to make a point. (throws phone down on table) All right, listen. There's three types of calls we can get next. One - amateur. Cash and a dump site. Number two - professional. That's wire transfers and multiple-location drop-offs. (glances at Sterling) And three - targeted.

Hardison: Targeted toward us?

Eliot: No. Towards a specific ransom demand - Not cash. (looks at Faberge Egg case)

Sterling: You're not risking a $9 million artifact...

Eliot: It might be the only chance.

Sterling: ...on a hunch! Let me run this. We track the calls, find out whoever it is, have the police surround -

Eliot (walks around table to stand with team): Sterling, I'm the retrieval specialist. That's my job.

Sterling: Your friends' lives hang in the balance, and you're gonna take your cues off a punch-up artist instead of me? (closes case and takes phone from table) Call me when you need me. 'cause you will need me. (leaves with case)

eliot being the focused, determined retrieval specialist that’s hell bent on getting everyone back safe? we love to see it

+ parker, hardison, and tara having 100% faith in him standing beside him

- - - - -

Eliot: He's angry. We took his payday. (phone rings) All right, all right. (pulls phone toward him and hits button for intercom) Go.

Distorted Voice: If you follow our instructions, your friends will be returned unharmed.

Eliot: We agree. Tell us what you want.

Distorted Voice: You owe me

(Hardison uses computer to remove distortion)

Alex: $9 million.

Hardison: It's Alex. It's Alexander.

[Embassy Hallway]

Alex: I still have a buyer for the egg. Return it, and I return your friends.

[I.Y.S. Insurance Offices]

Eliot: I want proof of life now.

Alex: Agreed

it’s cool to see how Retrieval Specialist™ eliot spencer actually works

- - - - -

Nate: Yeah. Yeah, I was lying to you for your own good.

Maggie: Quick little hint for your next marriage - that excuse does not fly with any woman on earth.

Nate: Oh, go- next marriage? That's really nice to say.

Maggie (hitting Nate with spray can): You know what? I've heard that one before.

Nate: Heard what before? What are you talking about?

Sam: Are you actually having this argument now?!

Nate: She started it.

Maggie: He started it

chaotic ex spouses

- - - - -

Eliot: Listen, listen - we know who's behind this, all right? We know what they want. We have the upper hand here. We do.

COMPETENCY!!! HE KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT HES TALKING ABOUT AND WE LOVE TO SEE IT

- - - - -

they made a taser out of two ends of a live wire and a flamethrower with a match and an aerosol I love it

- - - - -

Sam: Give me that. The thing everyone screws up when they fake their own death - no body. Well, that can work, but it leaves no suspect for the police to chase.

Alex: You won't get away with this.

Sam: No, you will. Of course, I've left an evidence trail a mile wide, Visa applications, accounts in offshore banks.

Alex: You were my friend!

Sam: I was your employee. And thanks to your screw-ups, I was an employee with no pension, no savings, no nothing. That was really, really unacceptable to me.

Nate: Well, it's a good plan. What? I- I - listen, I spent 20 years chasing, you know, guys that faked their own death. I mean, this one - it's pretty well thought-out.

Sam: Exactly. Alexander Lundy, desperate for cash, turns to violence. And his poor assistant, Sam, loyal to the last, caught in the cross fire at a ransom drop gone bad.

that’s actually really smart

- - - - -

eliot’s sly grin right before the flashback revealing how they got away with it

- - - - -

(Alex vomiting into a barrel)

Parker (handing him a cloth): It's okay. First bomb's always the hardest (cringes)

- - - - -

Eliot: Was it because they wanted us to hear Sam's performance? It's 101, man. After that, (looks hardison up and down) you don't have to be a rocket scientist to figure it out.

Maggie: You know, people underestimate you, Eliot.

Nate: That's kind of the point

HE CONSIDERES HARDISON TO BE AKIN TO A ROCKET SCIENTIST

- - - - -

Reporter (on television): And that's not all. Today, based on his work recovering the priceless artifact, James Sterling was invited to join Interpol. He's a real-life Sherlock Holmes.

Parker: Interpol? Seriously?

Hardison: Sterling's career gets another boost off of our hard work.

Tara: We didn't even get paid.

Hardison: Nope.

Tara: I hate this guy.

Eliot (taps his beer bottle on Tara's): Now you're part of the team. (walks away)

THAT is what it takes lmfao

also eliot was wearing a flannel in that scene

#leverage 2.12 #leverage 2x12 #the zanzibar marketplace job #leverage #leverage season 2 #season 2 #notable moments #mine

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 3 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 135

135

Standing at the terminal for the private airport, Keith was fighting the urges telling him to stay. Curtis was there. Shiro was there. Kosmo was there. Krolia, James, Ryan, Nadia, Ina, Matt, Rieva and Kolivan were all there... but the one person he wanted there the most wasn’t. Lance was with Mami at VOLTRON. His boyfriend opting to stay there for the next few days before he went into hiding with Mami. They were all going ahead. Allura would be coming with Lotor in a day or two with his generals that’d been barely saved in time by a team sent to the airfield, there just some things they needed to wrap up in Platt first. Leaving Lance hurt. Lance hadn’t been too well the night before. His boyfriend tried to reassure him at least a hundred times that they’d be able to talk over the phone and he’d answer all Keith’s calls once he had a second number. Coran would organise that, and Keith wasn’t allowed to know where Lance was going until he’d got there safely. He couldn’t tell the Vatican what he didn’t know.

Hearing a wolf whistle, Keith spun round. Pidge and Hunk coming towards him. Krolia seemed to expect this

“Finally! I thought you two were going to miss the flight!”

Pidge laughed at Krolia, though it was probably more the bewilderment on Keith’s face

“What are you two doing here?!”

“You didn’t think we’d miss this opportunity, did you?”

“But... what?”

“Lance told us to come. Because apparently you can’t tell your two best friends you’re off to Rome. Sheesh, you’re so rude”

“But you were... weren’t you staying in Garrison?”

“Pfft. We still are. We came to say goodbye to you, dummy”

As far as Keith knew the pair of them would be staying in Garrison. They were going to look after Lance’s house and his cow and Blue... and Lance. What about Lance? He’d thrown around the idea of asking them to go with Lance, but Lance didn’t want to interfere. Apparently this didn’t count as interference? He didn’t want to make a scene about leaving

“What about...?”

Pidge snickered at his failure to articulate the questions in his head

“Chillax, dude. It’s all sorted. Blue’s back with Lance now, and we’re gonna check on his house for him”

When did that happen? He hadn’t been able to see them much. Weren’t they mad about that?

“But... why?”

“Because we’re friends, doofus. Plus, have you met my brother? Leave him alone for too long and he gets all stupid in the head. Someone has to remind him he’s not as smart as he thinks he is”

From the group, Matt called out

“Fuck you, Katie! I’m smarter than you!”

“Go lick your balls!”

James and the others snickered. Somehow they managed to get along with Matt rather well. James had been less of dick towards him too. Maybe the mutt was scared of Lance? Because accepting him seemed too far of a stretch. Reaching out, Hunk pulled him into a hug, Keith returning it, still slightly shocked that his friends had made the effort to come see him when he’d tried to sneak away

“You stay safe, man. And let us know what’s going on”

“Thanks. I will. I’ll be back as soon as I can be”

“We know. We’ll take care of Lance the best we can until you come back... when he comes back... it feels like everyone’s leaving”

“Lance said “This isn’t goodbye, it’s see you later””

Pidge wrapped her arms around them both

“He’s right. We’re coming to Rome to get you ourselves if you think you can skip out on us”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way... I’m sorry... that we have to...”

Pidge stomped on his foot, scowling up at him when he looked down at her questioningly

“Stop it. Look. We don’t blame you over what happened with Lance. We don’t blame Lance either. Sendak was a bad man. What we want is both our friends to be okay”

Hunk backing Pidge up, though sounding super nervous

“You are okay, aren’t you? You’re not in some kind of super trouble?”

Maybe a little? For being distracted and letting Sendak get the drop on him...

“Not that I know of. I’ve been trying to stay outside the loop for Lance’s sake. Lance can be pretty forceful when he has to be”

Pidge nodded, dropping her head back down as she replied

“He’ll be okay. He’s going with Mami and he’s got Blue now. Are you going to have the same number?”

“I would pretend you didn’t already have my work number but I know you do”

“And Shiro’s... and Curtis’s... and Krolia’s Don’t think I won’t blow up their phones if you stop answering us”

“What do you expect? Daily reports?”

“Exactly! Hunk’s getting his passport processed. I’ve got mine. Rome isn’t too far to go to kick your arse”

He didn’t deserve his friends. He really fucking loved both of them.

Matt came over to them, lifting Pidge up off of him like she was rag doll, Pidge screeching at the sudden motion

“You put me down, Matthew Holt!”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“I’ll burn all your stuff while you’re gone if you don’t put me down right now!”

Matt placed the angry gremlin down, ruffling her hair as she tried to straighten it up

“Don’t be mad because mum said you couldn’t come with us”

Pidge crossed her arms

“I didn’t ask her”

“We both know that’s a lie”

Pidge raised an eyebrow, seeming smug that Matt was wrong

“Actually I asked mum if I should go with Lance. She’s the one who said he needed a little time with his own mother instead of us”

Keith wished Pidge and Hunk were going with Lance. Lance only vaguely agreed if that Keith wasn’t going to be back for Christmas they could meet up with him. Keith was totally going to be back for Christmas. Three and a half weeks was plenty of time. He hoped it would go faster than it sounded out loud

“She’d be right. He needs a vacation, not to be babysitting you”

“He doesn’t babysit me”

“Remind me, did he not used to go ahead and check out the places you wanted to go ahead of time to make sure you wouldn’t be hurt”

“No one asked him too”

“All I’m hearing is a grumbling gremlin”

Pidge stomped on Matt’s foot. Rieva giggling at the pair of them. The werewolf seemed happier... and Loturd was to blame for it.

When they’d bumped into Matt and Rieva at VOLTRON, Lance had wound up ignoring his need for sleep in favour of having the pair over to the apartment. Where he went and fell asleep anyway after he and Rieva had made dinner for the four of them. Both Matt and Rieva were worried about Lance, Keith not wanting to talk about his boyfriend behind his back, but instead kind of sort of did, maybe a little jealously. Lance defending Lotor made his head hurt and his heart feel ugly with jealousy. Rieva having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that monster she’d heard so much about had seemed to soften into something almost human. She still hated him. Loathed his family. Wanted him to fuck off back to Europe and stay there with his family forever, all of which making Keith smile at her description. She liked him a tiny bit better now that he’d given her some answers about why her biological parents had to die.

It turned out Lotor was looking into it in his own way.

He couldn’t very well approach his parents and demand a list of everyone they and their underlinings had personally killed. It was disgustingly and shamefully long, Lotor actually admitting that to Rieva, as he hung his head before her. Part of his niceness still seemed like an act. Rieva didn’t trust him. He acknowledged that she had no need to and no need to forgive her. Her parents murders were nearly a footnote in Lotor’s research. Simply murdered because they were the wrong friends of friends of friends who’d lost a child to Honerva’s crazed experiments. Zarkon wiping out the chain of evidence back to them. He’d found a photo, giving Rieva something tangible of her parents. She and Matt were coming with them long enough to give statements, again, then going on to spend some time with Rieva’s adoptive parents, with the plan being to return home for Christmas. Krolia had personally promised them her protection... then Kolivan turned around and did the same. His mum could be scary when she wanted to be. Keith wishing he could have seen her scolding Kolivan who’s facial expression never really seemed to change that much.

Everything had changed since he’d last been standing here. It was only him and Shiro then. No Pidge. No Hunk. No Krolia he thought of as his mother now. No Lance as his boyfriend, just Lance that needed a bullet in his brain. No twins. No... friends... that he believed he’d never have because everyone left him in the end. No Kosmo or Blue. No good thoughts of vampires and werewolves. No Mami and her rebel antics. No apartment filled with memories to come back to. No house filled with love waiting a little further down the road for all this to be over and him to move there to be with his pregnant love. None of that. He was going to miss Lance so much. Pidge and Hunk too... but Lance... he missed him deeply already.

“Sorry, kids. It’s time to go. Keith will let you know when we get there. Take care of yourselves until we’re back”

Krolia hugged Pidge and Hunk, both of them hugging her back. They’d bonded. He used to believe as long as he had Shiro he had all he needed. The two of them. The two Paladins as Shiro would call them. Now there was 5 of them... Him, Lance, Shiro, Pidge and Hunk... and some kind of weird family bond between them all. Lance was right, as he usually was, it was past time putting this Sendak mess to bed. Keith knew at least two Blade agents were staying behind to deal with the spot fires left from Sendak. But Coran had that handled. For a weird old fae, he was kind of very special... He could be flaky, he could be slow, he could be frustrating, and his stories didn’t need to see the light of day again, but he did care. And fuck, he loved Lance so much. Everyone loved Lance so much... He hoped he was doing the right thing here. He hoped his boyfriend wasn’t crying his eyes out. He’d cried enough last night and into the morning. His morning sickness had seemed to almost double with stress. Keith didn’t want to spend their last night in the infirmary, but Lance had been so sick that he’d agreed maybe it was for the best. He and the twins were going to be okay... They were going to be okay and he was going to come back home to where he belonged.

Hugs did the rounds, Keith hugged by Matt who simply shrugged. Matt had the same kind of flare for dramatics as Lance. He loved love. Saying goodbye sucked, so it was “see you later”. Fresh determination in Keith’s steps as he led Kosmo over to the private jet. His doggo an idiot, trying to be part of the wolf pack... who were all in human form... He really was surrounded by idiots.

Cuba was hot. Hot and just the right place to be to forget how badly he missed Keith. Cuba was the holiday Lance’d wanted to take Mami and Keith on, but coming back with Mami was worth it to hear the way she lit up at the prospect of an adventure.

He’d cried so hard the day Keith left. Regretting letting him go without him. Mami held his hand, confined to bed thanks to dehydration. Keith had worried so much about leaving that Lance wondered if he would. Coran helped him make a gift for Keith. A small album of ultrasound photos and tummy photos from his phone, and surveillance footage. They’d had to get creative or he’d have had three full blank weeks there. He had another two albums. One for him and one for Mami. Mami getting into this baby thing too much. The knitting needles coming out and him being told to mind his own business. Luis had nearly lost his shit when Coran came to pick her back up. Mami had a few choice words about her overbearing son and the banning of her occasional nightcap, and he didn’t take her to church.

Picking up their rental car, Coran had organised it all. Special clearances, careful of customs, a nice hotel room with ocean views for a month, giving Keith the chance to come down and experience this with them before heading back to America. The only way to get a Cuban passport was to be born there or to marry a Cuban. Mami had hers, Lance her American born grandson... funnily enough named Lance. Amazing. It was also really the only time he could take this holiday with Mami. He could still hide his belly. He was small. He’d googled and seen some of the sizes of normal bellies, worrying his was to small for their twins. Mami called him an idiot for it told him “before too long he’d be wishing he was small again”. Seeing Keith didn’t need all his clothes in Rome, Lance had borrowed some of his... and packed the same body wash his boyfriend used... and Keith’s stinkiest jacket to stench up his luggage so he wouldn’t lose his scent.

Checking in, the hotel was ridiculously nice. Clean. Lots of white and arches, the smell of the beach in the air. Mami pointing out everything that had changed since she’d been there, even trying to send them down roads that no longer existed on the way to the hotel. Thank god for inbuilt GPS. Setting up their room was put on hold. The first thing he did was set up his laptop, using the hotel wifi. He had the phone Coran told him to take which was an encrypted Blade phone, as well as the laptop which he’d personalised a little with pictures of Keith, Blue and Kosmo. His own laptop, normal, and work phones locked away at VOLTRON. None of that mattered. His first port of call was logging into his “what’s app” with his new account just for him and Keith. Rome was 6 hours ahead. Making it 3am. He’d told Keith he’d call him when he’d arrived, like Keith had called him when he’d arrived and was able to.

Keith had been waiting up for him. His boyfriend nursing a cup of coffee, Kosmo trying to butt in over his shoulder. His fur son missed him... being a bad father, Blue was staying at VOLTRON. He couldn’t bring her down to Cuba, and she deserved to run and play, and he was paranoid about leaving her with Pidge

“Hey, babe. Hey, Kosmo!”

Keith pushed Kosmo off him, huffing

“How come he gets a happier hello?”

“Because he is best boy, and you are sleepy boy”

Keith sighed at him

“You know I had to wait until you landed before I could sleep”

“I know. Mami tried to get us lost”

Shooting a glance at his Mami, she was already making tea in the rooms kitchenette area

“Is that Keith? Hello, my mijo!”

Lance sighed, shooting Keith a look

“Hey, Mami!”

“Now who’s getting all the happy welcomes? How was today?”

“Boring. Long. I miss you”

“It’s only been a couple of days”

“Too long. How are my twins?”

Lance stood up, pulling his shirt up for Keith to see his belly

“Still in there”

“Hello, my little macaroons. Daddy loves you”

Lance rolled his eyes as he pulled his shirt down and sat back down

“They know. They have to hear it from me all the time”

Kosmo made another attempt at Keith’s laptop. Keith nearly spilling his coffee

“He’s a menace. Everyone keeps giving him treats and he’s stopped listening to me”

“That sounds about on par for him. Anyway, I only really called to let you know we got here safely”

“I’m glad... I really miss seeing you”

“You see me everyday”

Yeah. He missed Keith. He missed him so fucking much that he had to keep from crying during their calls

“You know it’s not the same”

“Yeah. It really isn’t but it’s not for that long”

“That’s true but it feels like forever”

“You’re not hanging up before I see my handsome son are you?”

Keith snorted at Mami, Lance had to fight for private Keith time

“I’m going to call him later”

“I want to see him”

“He’s still on the call!”

Lance groaned. All he wanted to do is talk to Keith

“Don’t hang up!”

“I’m not hanging up...”

“Good... Come make the tea so I can talk with Keith”

“He’s my boyfriend”

“Pish you”

The perils of your mother loving your boyfriend

“It’s okay, babe. Make the tea and come back”

Swapping place with his mother, Lance grabbed his suitcase of blood bags. Hopefully no one was going to be opening the hotel fridge... or that would be awkward. Coran had booked them a really, really nice suite. That Lance didn’t care about exploring until the following morning. The flight had been fine. Mami giving him a slight headache with her directions. They’d gotten in about 8pm. Perfect time for vampires to be flying. He had his box of grave soil. And he had his photos of Keith and his friends. Packing seemed like too much effort though. Especially with Keith right there on the laptop...

Bringing Mami’s tea over, he had his own blood bag in his teeth. Mami was filling Keith in on how nice the private plane was. She was gushing over how she’d be able to brag when they visited the family. Their holiday pretty much consisted of two weeks of being forced to “meet” everyone. Though he would be able to silently judge how they’d all aged. She was so excited. She’d been too excited really. Totally prepared for code names and assumed identities. She was going to be “Lola. The famous dancer with her younger, handsome, partner”. Coran dashed her hopes. They weren’t doing very many things other than seeing their family, so normal names were fine.

“Anyway, when are you coming down to see us...”

“Mami! We’re not allowed to tell Keith where we are!”

Mami chuckled at him

“You’re such a fuss pot”

“And Keith isn’t allowed to know where we are for his safety too. Sorry, babe...”

He’d love to tell Keith he was back in Cuba, waiting for him there. Coran would tell Keith when Keith was finally allowed to come see them

“It’s alright. I’ll just add to all the secrets Mami and I share”

Great. They were co-conspirators against him. If he wanted to be in danger, he’d still be in Platt

“I can’t win. Mami, go drink your tea. Keith, I’m sorry”

“It’s fine, babe. You look pretty tired...”

“I’ve been sleeping. These two are still keeping me up, but it’s okay”

Keith’s face softened. Lance wished he could reach through the screen and hug him

“I wish I could be there... It’s all grumpy people here”

“Grumpy people with dog treats”

“Yeah. There’s that. Fuck... I have to be up at 6. It’s inhumane”

Idiot. Keith was an idiot. He wasn’t going to be functional at all

“Babe! Go to bed. Put the coffee down and get some sleep!”

“I will now I know you’re okay. Oh, I’m supposed to say hi from the others”

“Tell them hello from us and we’re okay and I’m safe... ish”

His Mami smacked his arm

“He’s perfectly fine. He’s been a big baby without you”

Keith snorted. He was a traitor... a traitor Lance wished was waiting in the bed for him instead of in Rome

“I’m sure that’s not the case. I’m going to go, but I love you, babe. Love you too, Mami, and I’ll try call later”

“I love you too, give Kosmo extra hugs from me”

“He doesn’t need them. He’s a total himbo”

“He is best boy living his best life”

“Right. I’ll remember that the next time he pees on the bed. Anyway, I’m happy you’re safe. I love you”

“I love you, too. See you later”

Lance closed the chat with a sigh. He should have gone to Rome. He should have been there with Keith, and not with his boyfriend stealing mother

“Keith seemed tired”

“It’s 3am there, Mami”

There was a time difference she was forgetting

“What’s he doing awake then?”

Lance sighed again. They were barely in Cuba and he wanted to go home

“Because he wanted to know when landed safely. I know you’re excited, but we really can’t talk about Platt or about him”

“I know. Relax, mijo. I know. Let me be happy to see our Keith”

Ugh. He wanted to be happy to see his Keith. He didn’t want to share... Allura, Lotor, Acxa, Zethrid and Ezor had left on an earlier flight. They thought he was going north to Canada, where he was just a border away from coming back home if he needed to. He hadn’t even told Hunk and Pidge, only that Mami was coming with him and they’d be home for Christmas

“I know you know. I’m just being stupid. I’ll get unpacked and we can go to bed. I know Aunt Sarah’s supposed to see us tomorrow morning”

“You worry too much, mijo. I’m a tough old bird, and I finally get to show off my handsome son again”

“Grandson”

Mami shot him a look. Okay. Let a man worry

“Yes, yes. I know the story. Be a good boy and drink your blood up. We want those twins as health as they can be”

“They’re fine. They’re not doing much but taking up space rent free now”

“You’ve become much bossier. What happened to my sweet little boy?”

“He went and got pregnant. If I leave you alone with my laptop, you’re not going to get into mischief are you?”

“That’s for me to know. Now of you go. I’ll have my tea, then off to bed”

Great. What a great way to start a holiday. Would it really be too soon to call Coran and beg to come back? Why had he thought a family reunion was a great idea?

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

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wearevillaneve · 4 years

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Killing Eve S3, E5: “Are You From Pinner?“ should really be called “Killing Oksana.”

With “Are You From Pinner?” in the books, we are past the halfway mark of the Suzanne Heathcote era of Killing Eve and in some circles of the fandom, the hope is this wet firecracker of a season will blow up in the final three episodes.

Based upon what’ has come before, this may be a tad optimistic. As erratic and disjointed as the preceding four episodes, E5 introduced something entirely new and different to Killing Eve. A standalone showcase for Jodie Comer’s Villanelle without Eve or Dasha or Konstantin or any of the other regular cast to block the spotlight. Can you see the fatal error in all this?

Typically when something is dubbed a “shitshow” it’s meant metaphorically, but as one of the set pieces was Villanelle literally throwing shit, it becomes an accurate description.

Before we got to this point, the six-month time jump from the end of last season looked like a combination of a tactical error and a missed opportunity. Instead of Villanelle returning to Russia to drop in on the home folks, there were a many more unanswered questions from “You’re Mine” in dire need of an explanation.

1. Who rescued Eve found and transported her to the hospital? The “lucky some tourists found you” one-liner by the late Kenny Stowton seems pretty flimsy. Didn’t the Rome police have any questions about this Asian woman with amazing hair ended up in Hadrian’s Villa lying facedown in a pool of blood? Was it a robbery? Okay, so then did Eve have any money, passport or ID to get back to England once she healed sufficiently? Did she receive any rehabilitative aftercare? Is she on any pain-killing medicines? What was her mental state after being shot by V? What was her emotional and psychological state after slaughtering Raymond to save V?

2. How did Niko get out of the storage locker? Eve didn’t know where he was and neither did MI6. Even if he was found by someone else, how did he explain away the small matter of Gemma’s rotting corpse? Niko griped to Eve that MI6 intervened to make it look like Gemma committed suicide to cover up the fact that not only can’t a spy agency catch an international assassin who kills British citizens at will, they later hired her to work on an off-the-book mission where a technocratic billionaire got his throat slit.

Why would MI6 go through all that fuss and bother to cover up a murder of a civilian when it could easily be laid at Niko’s feet? His only defense is Gemma was killed by a beautiful blonde psychopath with a crush on his estranged wife. Carolyn told Eve she was on her own after Rome. What changed, because something must have for MI6 to ride to Niko’s rescue. 3. Isn’t The Twelve presented as this immense, almighty, sprawling international diabolical entity of murder, violence, and sowing chaos and espionage against nations with their dirty little fingers apparently manipulating every intelligence agency on the planet? It also deploys assassins and goons too fucking stupid to look under a bed to find an unarmed MI6 agent hiding there quaking in fear OR recognize said agent when a thug asks her out for a sushi dinner. Well, okay then. Killing Eve logic explains it all. Returning back to this sluggish solo flight, Villanelle’s family in Mother Russia are a bunch of dopey dunces with anger management issues, poor self-control, and flat-earthers who break out in spontaneous dance routines while the prodigal trouble child, Oksana, looking like the Whitest White Girl Ever who tried to shake her moneymaker, but couldn’t because both of her feet were super-glued to the floor, stands by bewildered probably thinking, “Who the hell are you people?”

A few weeks ago rumors from not-very reliable sources were floating around that executive producer Sally Woodward Gentle had mused it might be conceivable Killing Eve could conceivably go on without one of the two leads. Perhaps Woodward Gentle is hedging her bets should Comer or Oh not return after the fourth season. “Are You From Pinner” is proof that’s not true. The show is called Killing Eve, not Killing Villanelle. Though she has become the sun to Eve’s moon, there’s a reason for Eve Polastri to inhabit a central place in Villanelle’s life. She is the other half which makes Villanelle whole. Whether together or apart, what keeps the audience coming back is the strange relationship between Eve and Villanelle. Without Eve to humanize Villanelle, she become just another attractive, charismatic killer with a sad back story. Yet Villanelle is not a Marvel super villain and many fans were perfectly fine with not knowing what it was in her past that made her who she is now.

Heathcote subverted expectations of another meeting between the central characters in episode 5 as her showrunner predecessors Emerald Fennell and Phoebe Waller-Bridge had done previously, but she went further by removing Eve completely. Eve was not referenced a single time by Villanelle and weirdly, Sandra Oh and all the other cast members names were removed from the credits. Heathcote’s erred by that omission as it reinforced the notion some KE fans have held that she and Fennell tilted the balance in favor of Comer’s character as Oh’s is diminished. That may not have been the newest showrunner’s intention, but it certainly feeds the impression that it was. The conclusion of Villanelle killing her mother and burning down the house was a wrenching, powerful moment, but taken in totality of the entire show, not nearly enough to compensate for the lackluster and pointless set-up scenes.

What we learned from Oksana's origin story is you really can't go home again. Fine, but why did that require an Eve-less episode to know that. This all could have unfolded in the six-month jump after Rome as a sub-plot playing out over the first four episodes. It didn’t justify a standalone showcase for Villanelle.

All it did was blunt the equally affecting impact of Eve witnessing Niko’s death. A better and much fairer approach would have been devote the first half to Eve grieving for her murdered husband and the second to Villanelle less-than-warm welcome home. Minus Eve, and without Konstantin and no Dasha to exercise some guidance over the nuclear missile that is Villanelle, what you get is an unleashed assassin alternatively being childish, being a smart-ass, being mysterious, being fashionable, before inevitably turning murderous.

Most of the time it works and we forgive Villanelle her many trespasses This time it face-planted despite a sensational closing sequence between Oksana and her mother. Unfortunately, ten riveting minutes do not make up for the uninteresting 32 minutes which preceded it.

Villanelle has become unstoppable in her homicidal tendencies. She has morphed into a female Terminator who occasionally imitates human traits. Nothing can stop her or barely slow her down. She commits mayhem and slaughter like most of us breathe and suffers zero consequence for it. The fact she took out her own mother should neither shock nor surprise.

“Are You From Pinner?” demonstrates Villanelle’s complex charms shine most brightly in her interactions with Eve, Konstantin and Dasha. Remove them from the equation and even Comer’s wealth of talents are not enough to rise above flat, lifeless characters, muddled motivations and a plot which wavers between the comedic for too long and the tragic too late to register. A friend said she didn’t much like “Are You From Pinner” but hoped it would be better after a second or third viewing. I told sometimes a first impression is a right impression and that it was doubtful a third watch would help much. How much subtlety and nuance is there to be found from a turd tossing contest? I can say with all confidence, I can't see myself watching this episode again. Like ever. If you got something out of this misfire and it touched your heart and made you squirt a tear for Oksana, more power to you. All I got out of it was confirmation why the show is called Killing Eve and not Villanelle and Her Wacky Russian Family. Come for the comedy. Stay for the kills. In a new interview for her Elle Canada cover story, Oh spoke of how she had reached a point in her life where she was not looking for the next big blockbuster movie, but interested in roles where her Korean American identity can be explored. “I decided that I’m only going to play characters that are essential to the plot, that conduct the narrative and therefore can’t be cut out.” Eve is an essential character who conducts the narrative, and was cut out of the latest installment of the program that bears her name. And that bothers me. It bothers me a lot more than just a mediocre Killing Eve story. I will never watch another Killing Eve which erases one of the female leads to elevate the other. That is not how women empower women.

FINAL GRADE: C

#Killing Eve #Villanelle #suzanne heathcote #ke s3 #emerald fennell #phoebe waller bridge #showrunner #Eve Polastri #Villanelle x Eve

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