#(Eleanor the good place voice) THIS is the horror season!
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AABRIA IYENGAR DM OF ALL TIME HOLY FUCKING SHIT
#(Eleanor the good place voice) THIS is the horror season!#dimension 20#listen I love mismag and acofaf as much as the next dyke but I’m not a crit role girlie so#I had NO IDEA she had this side to her#she was BORN TO DO HORROR AND THATS THAT#It’s been low key lurking in every campaign so far… the antlers in mismag… but godDAMN#miss girl is OFF THE LEASH HOLY FUCK#I dont even have WORDS#the way we are 3 episodes in and its more terrifying than the entirety of neverafter#EXCEPT Pinocchio finding out the stepmother *** her daughters that made me need to turn the lights on#Brennan lee mulligan I’m sorry baby you’ve been bumped to number 2#“THIS IS WHAT MACBETH WAS WORRIED ABOUT she contains MULTITUDES
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THE CELESTIAL JUKEBOX, PRESENT TENSE - 250 SONGS
Again, some of this is personal and sentimental, linked to time and place and experience.
50 Cent, “Many Men (Wish Death)”
100 gecs, “800db cloud”
10,000 Maniacs, “Candy Everybody Wants”
Bryan Adams, “Everything I Do”
Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass, “Spanish Flea”
America, “Sister Golden Hair”
Julie Andrews, “My Favorite Things”
Animal Collective, “Brother Sport”
Aphex Twin, “Tha”
Fiona Apple, “Extraordinary Machine”
Louis Armstrong, “What a Wonderful World”
Ash, “Shining Light”
Atlantic Starr, “Always”
Atlas Sound, “Washington School”
Autechre, “Vose In”
The B-52s, “Deadbeat Club”
Bananarama, “Cruel Summer”
The Beatles, “All My Loving”
Beck, “Girl”
Belle & Sebastian, “Seymour Stein”
Benoit & Sergio, “Boy Trouble”
Beyoncé, “Countdown”
Bikini Kill, “Alien She”
Bilal, “West Side Girl”
Bjork, “It’s Oh So Quiet”
Black Dice, “Pigs”
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, “Stop”
The Black-Eyed Peas, “Imma Be”
Blast Off Country Style, “Cutie Pie”
Blondie, “Heart of Glass”
The Bloodhound Gang, “Your Only Friends Are Make-Believe”
The Box Tops, “The Letter”
Brainiac, “I Am A Cracked Machine”
Michelle Branch, “Everywhere”
Laura Branigan, “Gloria”
The Breeders, “Off You”
Danny Brown, “Gremlins”
James Brown, “Get Up I Feel Like Being a Sex Machine”
Jackson Browne, “Somebody’s Baby”
Vanessa Carlton, “A Thousand Miles”
Harry Chapin, “Cat’s in the Cradle”
Tracy Chapman, “Fast Car”
The Carpenters, “Yesterday Once More”
Julian Casablancas and the Voidz, “Human Sadness”
The Chemical Brothers, “Free Yourself”
Chixdiggit!, “My Restaurant”
Cibo Matto, “Sunday, Pt. 1”
Ciara feat. Missy Elliott, “One, Two Step”
Clipse, “Dirty Money”
Jim Croce, “Operator”
Crosby, Stills, and Nash, “You Don’t Have To Cry”
Christopher Cross, “Ride Like the Wind”
Cryptacize, “Mythomania”
Crystal Castles, “Air War”
Culture Club, “Karma Chameleon”
Terrence Trent D’Arby, “Sign Your Name”
Daft Punk, “Around the World”
Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich, “Hold Tight”
Dead Kennedys, “Kill the Poor”
DeBarge, “The Rhythm of the Night”
Deerhoof, “+81”
Deerhunter, “Octet”
Depeche Mode, “Personal Jesus”
Dial, “Helium”
The Diplomats, “Dipset Anthem”
DMX, “Stop Being Greedy”
The Doobie Brothers, “Black Water”
Dr. Dre feat. Snoop Dogg, “Nuthin’ But a G Thang”
The-Dream, “Love King”
Duran Duran, “Hungry Like The Wolf”
Bob Dylan, “Positively 4th Street”
The Eagles, “Lyin’ Eyes”
Eat Skull, “Cooking a Way to be Happy”
Elastica, “Connection”
The Everly Brothers, “All I Have to Do is Dream”
The Ben Folds Five, “The Battle of Who Could Care Less”
Eleanor Friedberger, “Stare at the Sun”
Eminem feat. Dido, “Stan”
Brian Eno, “Cindy Tells Me”
Eurythmics, “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)”
Extreme, “More Than Words”
The Fall, “Glam-Racket”
Roberta Flack, “Killing Me Softly With His Song”
Flipper, “Ha Ha Ha”
Dan Fogelberg, “Longer”
The Free Design, “The Proper Ornaments”
Fur, “Devil to the Lamb”
Garbage, “Only Happy When It Rains”
Judy Garland, “Over the Rainbow”
Kevin Gates, “Paper Chasers”
Ghostface Killah, “Shakey Dog”
Freddie Gibbs, “20 Karat Jesus”
Godspeed You! Black Emperor, “The Dead Flag Blues”
Gorillaz feat. De La Soul, “Feel Good Inc.”
Go Sailor, “I’m Still Crying”
Granddaddy, “A.M. 180”
Colleen Green, “I Want to Grow Up”
Green Day, “Basket Case”
Grimes, “REALITi”
Gucci Mane, “Break Ya Self (Brrrussia version)”
Guided By Voices, “Teenage FBI”
Harvey Danger, “Flagpole Sitta”
Helium, “XXX”
Keri Hilson, “Pretty Girl Rock”
Hole, “Malibu”
The Hollies, “All I Need Is The Air That I Breathe”
Michael Jackson, “Rock With You”
Jay-Z, “Hard Knock Life”
Henry Jacobs, “Guitar Lesson”
Jawbreaker, “Fireman”
Jeremih, “Oui”
Jewel, “Standing Still”
Jimmy Eat World, “Sweetness”
Billy Joel, “Uptown Girl”
Scott Joplin, “The Entertainer”
Journey, “Don’t Stop Believin’”
Juelz Santana, “Mixin’ up the Medicine”
R. Kelly feat. T.I. & T-Pain, “I’m a Flirt (Remix)”
Kool and the Gang, “Celebration”
Lana Del Rey, “Off to the Races”
Lagwagon, “May 16”
The Libertines, “Horror Show”
Limp Bizkit, “Re-Arranged”
Lindstrom, “Where You Go I Go Too”
Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam, “Lost in Emotion”
Lit, “My Own Worst Enemy”
The Lonely Island feat. T-Pain, “I’m on a Boat”
Lotus Plaza, “What Grows?”
Lower Dens, “Candy”
Courtney Love, “I’ll Do Anything”
Love As Laughter, “Idol Worship”
M.I.A, “Bamboo Banga”
Madonna, “Hung Up”
Madlib, “Mystic Bounce”
Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks, “Ramp of Death”
The Mamas and the Papas, “California Dreamin’”
John Mayer, “New Light”
Meek Mill, “Dreams and Nightmares Intro”
Men at Work, “Safety Dance”
George Michael, “Faith”
The Modern Lovers, “I’m Straight”
Modest Mouse, “Heart Cooks Brain”
The Moldy Peaches, “Nothing Came Out”
Chris Montez, “The More I See You”
Alanis Morissette, “Head Over Feet”
Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat, “Lucky”
MXPX, “Party, My House, Be There”
My Bloody Valentine, “You Never Should”
Nas, “The World Is Yours”
Johnny Nash, “I Can See Clearly Now”
Neu!, “Hallogallo”
New Order, “Subculture”
New Pornographers, “The Laws Have Changed”
Wayne Newton, “Danke Schoen”
Harry Nilsson, “Jump into the Fire”
Nine Inch Nails, “Wish”
Nirvana, “About a Girl”
The Notorious B.I.G., “Warning”
Maura O’Connell, “Summerfly”
The Orb, “Little Fluffy Clouds”
Panda Bear, “Mr Noah”
Pavement, “Harness Your Hopes (BBC Evening Session)”
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, “They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y.)”
Liz Phair, “Shane”
Pinhead Gunpowder, “I Am An Elephant”
The Platters, “Only You (And You Alone)”
The Pointer Sisters, “Jump”
Michael Praetorius, “Es ist ein Ros entsprungen”
Elvis Presley, “A Little Less Conversation”
Primal Scream, “Keep Your Dreams”
The Prodigy, “Breathe”
Propaghandi, “Anti-Manifesto”
Brian Protheroe, “Pinball”
Psychic Graveyard, “No”
Public Enemy, “Fight The Power”
Aileen Quinn, “Tomorrow”
Radiohead, “A Wolf at the Door”
Gerry Rafferty, “Right Down the Line”
Bonnie Raitt, “Something to Talk About”
The Ramones, “Chain Saw”
Otis Redding, “(Sittin’ On) The Dock of the Bay”
Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, “In Motion”
Lou Reed and Metallica, “Junior Dad”
Rihanna feat. Jay-Z, “Umbrella”
Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton, “Islands in the Stream”
The Rolling Stones, “Sympathy for the Devil”
Linda Ronstadt and James Ingram, “Somewhere Out There”
Rosemary Krust, “Private Amber”
Diana Ross, “Theme From Mahogany”
Roxy Music, “More Than This”
A Savage, “Eyeballs”
The Shangri-Las, “Leader of the Pack”
Shanice, “I Love Your Smile”
Ed Sheeran, “Thinking Out Loud”
Sightings, “Yellow”
The Silver Jews, “Blue Arrangements”
Alan Silvestri, “The Back to the Future theme”
Paul Simon, “Kodachrome”
Ashlee Simpson, “Pieces of Me”
Slade, “Cum On Feel the Noize”
The Smashing Pumpkins, “Here’s to the Atom Bomb (New Wave version)”
The Soft Pink Truth, “Do They Owe Us A Living?”
Sonic Youth, “Jams Run Free”
Jordan Sparks and Chris Brown, “No Air”
Spoon, “The Mystery Zone”
Starving Weirdos, “Land Lines”
Stereolab, “Plastic Mile”
The Strokes, “12:51”
Swell Maps, “Let’s Build A Car”
Taylor Swift, “Style”
Stylophonic, “R U Experienced”
Jazmine Sullivan, “Mascara”
Suicidal Tendencies, “Institutionalized”
Taco, “Puttin’ on the Ritz”
James Taylor, “You’ve Got a Friend”
Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy”
Throwing Muses, “Not Too Soon”
TLC, “Baby-Baby-Baby”
Tortoise, “Djed”
The Toys, “A Lover’s Concerto”
John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John, “Summer Nights”
A Tribe Called Quest, “Can I Kick It?”
UB40, “Red Red Wine”
Joe Walsh, “Life’s Been Good”
Scott Weiland, “Paralysis”
Steely Dan, “Do It Again”
Stiff Little Fingers, “Suspect Device”
Stylophonic, “RU Experienced?”
T.I., “What You Know”
Mary Timony, “Blood Tree”
that dog., “I’m Gonna See You”
The Tymes, “So Much In Love”
Ultimate Painting, “Out in the Cold”
The Unicorns, “Child Star”
The Velvet Underground, “The Gift”
Waka Flocka Flame, “Hard in da Paint”
Ween, “Even If You Don’t”
Weezer, “Endless Bummer”
Kanye West, “Devil in a New Dress (G.O.O.D. Fridays version)”
WHAM!, “Wake Me Up (Before You Go-Go)”
White Hassle, “Oh, What a Feeling”
Matthew Wilder, “Break My Stride”
Bill Withers, “Lean on Me”
Wolf Eyes, “Human Animal”
Stevie Wonder, “My Cherie Amour”
Wye Oak, “Siamese”
The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, “Maps”
Yo La Tengo, “My Heart’s Reflection”
Zaimph, “Removing Bits of History”
The Zombies, “Time of the Season”
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thots on black sails? if you want more specific maybe like, horror in black sails??
i was about to say, that would be a whole thesis, but this is still going to be an essay lol
Black Sails is at its root a horror story because Treasure Island, at its core, is a ghost story (I have not read it but I have read excerpts and analysis enough to get this, thank u).
Black Sails is a horror show in that it is the horror of existence under systems of oppression. There is that real, visceral, violent horror of that. The death involved. The psychological damage involved. The pain and the terror and the suffering that goes on and on and on, that sickly, venomous circle of it that perpetuates itself. I think Black Sails being centered on stories is a good example of this because stories take on a life of their own (the story is, in a sense, a character, because there is the narrative as we’re seeing it and the narrative that is the Legend growing in the background.) and they spread and can be just as destructive as physical violence. A story is what killed many of the characters. Their deaths are a horror. Death IS a horror. It’s the thing that scares Silver most. Every character has a very real but simple fear. Destruction of Image. Destruction of Self. Being trapped in a role. Being completely alone. Being at the mercy of the power of others. Death of loved ones. They’re very human fears, they’re very human horrors.
The thing that Black Sails does that I LOVE is that it is willing to walk that very fine line between real horror and....supernatural horror. This is, after all, the history behind a legend. The lives that make up a ghost story. It has all the elements of that. Places that seem alive (Nassau, and island that makes you behave your worst, a places where avarice and wrath seem to be uncontrolled and thriving like rot in a wound. It eats and eats and spits out monsters in the process. The Walrus, the ship that carries the crew but is, at its very core, a manifestation of Flint’s desires, his psyche. This is demonstrated during Flint’s nightmares at the begging of season three, but also with the destruction of it at skeleton island coinciding with the ‘death’ of captain flint. Speaking of Skeleton Island, it is the most alive of places. Haunted and holy and profane. Of course it is here that two figures like Flint and Silver would bring their fight, everyone else, all that death, all that violence, secondary to the struggle between two kings (two nations are in thy womb) and of course it is here, this island that only very few know how to find, that the cache is buried. That it was never about the money, not really. The cache is just a symbol. In it lies everything this war has cost. That is what Silver is chasing in Treasure Island, the ghosts that will always live in him now that the crew is dead, now the Walrus is destroyed, now that Flint has been killed by Long John Silver.
The presence of ghosts as not a manifestation of that person, but of the character’s own thoughts, their memories of that person, is also a really, REALLY good thing that Black Sails does. Memories as hauntings. Memories as horror. Memories as Everything you have. Memories so painful they must be denied the ability to exist so you can bear the thought of being alive. Stories as living memories. Voices that reach back centuries. Memories you owe things to. Promises. Love. That idea that pain is in you blood, that pain works its way into your bones until all you are is memories? That’s horrific. It’s traumatic. Black Sails handles the trauma of some characters better than others, but it’s very clear that people deal with it differently. For some, it makes them who they are (Flint, Madi, Eleanor, even Vane) for others, it demands a remaking of the self to kill it, to make it something that happened to someone so different than you are now that it is no longer you, but it will turn you into something else, something powerful (Max, Silver, Miranda). That idea of wearing two faces, the true self and the story, goes with the theme through the show that is the most classically horror: monstrosity.
The different levels of monstrosity in this show.....the self, the other, the community. The way the discussion of it shifts depending on who is doing the speaking from Silver (view of the self, of his wound making him unsightly, the internalized ableism, the way he finds pity to unbearable because he himself cannot think about the reason for it, the specific horror of the amputation of his leg being so visible to everyone, the way it must feel if you have survived by making yourself unknown only to now be gawked at everywhere you go), from Flint (the other, the awareness of how others view you, the pain of being seen that way, the rage at knowing they are wrong, the fury at being unable to change it, the constant battle of knowing it is LOVE you feel but knowing that others will find it profane) from Madi (the community, the shared pain, the FURY of living it and witnessing it, the shared visibility with the monstrosity of the self, the shadow of oppression hanging over everything, the dehumanization as justification for it all). There’s a reason they become a triad and there’s a reason Max, Anne, and Jack reflect them almost exactly. The way they reflect the two most common ways of dealing with being a society Other: confrontation to force change from the outside and working within the system to cause change from within. It is not an accident. Just as it is not an accident that many of the characters parallel each other in not just their story arcs, but their personal conflicts as well. That idea of pain being processed differently by everyone due to their worldview and the circumstances of their life despite that pain being similar.....the process of being viewed as grotesque by someone looking in because you are everything that society says you shouldn’t be. It goes hand in hand with the very first episode talking about the power of gossip, which is, in a base sense, a story.
The we are the monster in the stories they tell their children and in the darkness there is freedom speech gets quoted a lot talking about reveling in this, but there is also Silver going I am the reason grown men lie awake at night. Of Max saying you should know, people do not speak to me that way anymore. There is a certain...revelry in being frightening. In causing terror. That sometimes it feels good to look people who hate you for what you are in the face and see fear in their eyes. To look at them across a desk and say I hear a chorus of voices, multitudes. They reach back centuries. And know that the man you are speaking to you is afraid because he cannot bargain with you. That he sees his wife where he should see his own faults. Blames you for it, but he can’t force you to take responsibility. That all of these speeches speak to the fear of civilization towards all of them and the terror felt at the prospect of them having any sort of power, to be be seen as equals....when you are a horror simply as you are when they have had to make the effort to be one.
Black Sails is a horror show masquerading as historical fiction. That is my conclusion.
#Anonymous#this is so long i am so sorry i had THOUGHTS#meta#long post#sorry if you had to scroll all the way past this lmao idk what happened with the formatting
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The Deep Woods
(Credit to unknown artist on Google for the Drizzt picture)
Summary: Sam, Dean, and their friends are out enjoying the great outdoors. But, as usual for the hunters, their plans for relaxation are foiled when they team up with a group of campers whose numbers are dwindling as something is hunting them in the woods. Together, they must all try to survive a creature, and eventually, they find themselves at an abandoned cabin and forced to survive there as it seems like the laws of reality in this part of the forest aren’t all they seem and creatures who belong to another world seem to be finding their way in.
This is the first chapter of a fic that is a stand-alone ‘lost in the woods’ Supernatural fic which I am turning into a multi-fandom fic. The other fandoms are The Hobbit, Legends of Drizzt, Rurouni Kenshin.
Warnings: blood and gore, graphic violence, horror, survival in the woods, haunted mansion, Jealous Dean
Tropes: Survival in the woods, haunted cabin, enemies to friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, friends lovers
Pairings: Castiel/Hannah/Meg/Sam, Dean/Rowena, Fili/OC, Kili/OC, Kenshin/Kaoru, Sanosuke/Megumi, Drizzt/Ellifain
OCs: Asphodel and Brenna are OCs that I’ve always used back when I wrote for the Hobbit fandom. They are actually original characters from my novel series that I adapted into the Hobbit Verse. I tend to change their backgrounds from story to story but in general, Asphodel is a hobbit, her face claim is Eleanor Tomlinson, and Brenna is a Gnome. The Gnome culture is also an adaption from my novel, they are female dominated people who live in the polar regions and make a living off of whaling, deep-sea fishing, and caribou hunting.
AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25363057/chapters/61497556
“Who the hell talked me into this!” Dean exclaimed as they hiked through the trail. They were surrounded all around by thick forests, and the smell of pine hung in the air, as did the heat of an August day.
“It’s good for you, Dean,” Sam called as he led the group of backpack clad hikers. Dean frowned. He was usually the one in charge of things, and he didn’t appreciate his little brother usurping his authority.
“Not quite the outdoorsy type, are we?” Rowena teased as she trotted alongside the two Winchesters, easily keeping up with the both of them.
“Look, do you know how many things live in forests?” Dean reminded her. “We’ve hunted lots of them. And whose bright idea was it to go backcountry camping? I mean seriously? We could have at least stayed at a regular campsite. You know, with toilets and food.”
“We brought enough food to last the trip,” Sam reminded his brother as he trekked along, his large backpack secured to his back, and a hiking stick in one hand. “And we have a witch, a demon, and two angels with us and not to mention two seasoned hunters. What could possibly go wrong out here?”
“Damn it, Sammy, you never say ‘what could possibly go wrong’ haven’t you seen pretty much every horror movie in existence?” Dean knew he was being a little overdramatic, but he also knew he had a point. From Wendigos to werewolves, to a plethora of various monsters, they didn’t have a very good track record when it came to being outdoors.
And Dean didn’t miss the way Sam mentioned the other members of their entourage. He groaned internally as he glanced behind him to Castiel trailing behind them, Meg and Hannah on either side of him, chatting softly to one another.
“Keep up the pace, Fabio!” Dean demanded hotly at them. Castiel glanced up and scowled in response as the three of them started walking a little faster. He doubted Castiel understood the Fabio reference, but ever since Meg and Hannah had returned from the empty, the three of them had been inseparable, and Dean found it just plain annoying.
“Dean, leave Cas alone,” Sam insisted as Dean faced forward again as he walked. “You’ve been acting like a jealous prom date.”
“Am not,” Dean insisted, though his somewhat childish response was a feigned attempt to hide the fact that Sam’s accusation held more than a little truth to it. Dean was jealous. And he’d never admit it to anyone, including himself. Instead, he kept telling himself that Hannah and Meg were up to no good, that just because they’d randomly returned from the dead, shouldn’t mean anything.
Or maybe it was because they’d had Cas to themselves for so very long that Hannah and Meg were unwanted invaders. They’d been living in his bunker with his angel as if Castiel and Sam were both his possessions. It was just supposed to be the three of them. Forever.
“Alright, I think we should-” just as Sam prepared to announce instructions which Dean had hoped would signal a reprieve from this death march they’d been on, a high pitched shriek cut through the sky, causing Dean to nearly jump out of his skin with alarm as he immediately whirled towards the sound, hand instinctively falling to the holster of the gun fastened at his hip.
“Help, help!” came a frantic voice as a woman suddenly burst from the trees, standing in their path.
“What is it?” Sam asked as they all stopped and gathered in close. Dean rolled his eyes when he felt Castiel’s presence beside him.
“My husband, he’s missing! Please!” the frantic woman begged, trembling in fear as she glanced back the way she had come, her blonde hair blowing in the breeze.
“Slow down, dearie,” Rowena said comfortingly, putting a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Now, what are you doing in the woods all by yourself? Don’t you know there are bears?”
“And who knows what else,” Dean muttered to himself. He met Castiel’s gaze, and the angel shot him a scolding scowl.
“I’m not alone,” the woman stammered. “I’m camping nearby with a bunch of friends. But when I noticed Herb was missing. Oh god, do you think a bear got him?”
“Show us where you’re camping, and maybe we can try and trace your steps,” Sam said calmly. Dean knew Sam was always the type to try to diffuse the tension. Ever an air of calmness. The two of them were quite used to these types of situations, after all.
The woman took in a deep breath and hesitantly started back for the trees. Sam and Dean slowly fell in line behind her as she led them through the thick, dense forest of towering conifer trees.
“We were backcountry camping,” the woman began softly. “We go every year. This year, it’s a group of us: me, my husband, our neighbors, and all the kids. Maggie, my youngest, just turned 16, so we all came out here to celebrate. It’s nice to get away from civilization sometimes, you know? Especially with teenagers. We specifically picked a place like this because there are no cell phone towers.”
Dean caught on that the woman was rambling, probably to distract herself from her fears as she kept walking. But he did feel some sympathy for the woman. He was already mentally listing the monsters that could be lurking in the forest. A bear certainly wasn’t on his list; after all, it was never something natural in their line of work.
“So when did you notice your husband was missing?” Dean asked as he walked along, stepping on twigs as the sunlight got dim the further from the path they went. The creepy, foreboding feeling was beginning to settle into Dean’s mind, and he mentally noted that his shotgun was strapped to his backpack, within easy reach, just in case his trusty pistol wasn’t going to cut it. Not to mention, he was always armed with an angel blade, the demon blade, and a whole array of knives, daggers, and other weapons.
“This morning,” the woman responded. “He must have gotten up sometime in the night to go to the bathroom. His rifle is still here, and he’s been gone all day.”
“Did you mention your name yet, dearie?” Rowena asked as she made it a point to walk beside the woman.
“Oh, it’s Leslie,” the woman murmured softly. She appeared to be in her forties or fifties, perhaps, dressed in a pair of shorts and a simple cotton shirt. “Oh, we’re right here.”
The trees parted to reveal a small clearing. In the center was a cluster of tents. Dean counted about a dozen figures as they all glanced in their direction.
“We found some fellow hikers,” Leslie announces as she rejoined the rest of her party who all stood up to face the newcomers. “They haven’t seen Herb at all.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll try to find him,” Sam announced to all of them. Leslie went through and introduced them. So in addition to Leslie and Herb, they had a daughter named Maggie, a son named Evan. Then there were Tom and Shelly with their son Brayden and son Jess, and lastly, where Kate and Randy with their daughter Stephanie, and daughter Kylie.
They all reminded Dean of typical suburbanites with their brand name camping equipment, trendy outfits, not all of which seemed particularly appropriate for camping and their well-manicured hair. Dean was sure at least one of them drove a Kia sports utility vehicle. The youngest among them were the two 16-year-old teenagers; the other kids were all in their later teens or early twenties. Many of them donned various insignia of colleges they were attending.
It turns out they all attended the same church together, and the adults all worked in the same office. They all couldn’t be more cookie-cutter, apple pie normal if they tried. Definitely not the type that would likely believe that any of Dean’s usual suspects would be responsible for their husband’s disappearance.
Dean couldn’t help but note the irony of it all. Sam had all but assured them that they wouldn’t run into anything unnatural out here in the wilderness, and yet here they were.
#fan fiction#Supernatural#Castiel/Hannah/Meg/Sam#Dean/Rowena#rurouni kenshin#legends of drizzt#the hobbit
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“A Devil’s Love” Chapter 3: It’s Not A Date
Description: Chloe’s best friend is back, and Lucifer’s charm can’t seem to affect her either. Is she also a miracle child? Or something…more? [Story starts during S2 Ep4, Female Reader Insert]
—————————————-
AN: Updated March 14, 2020 - Grammar, Mention of a new character, Mention of a previous relationship AN: Updated July 15, 2020 - Grammar, Minor story change
Rating: Teen Warning[s]: Swearing
Show Timeline: Season 2 after episode 11
Spotify Playlist /// AO3 Fanfiction Net Wattpad DeviantArt
Tag List: @ayanna-wild, @anushay1998, @emiwrites3reads, @i-am-canada-13, @heart-of-pots-and-pans, @tinyybiceps, @jessicarene99, @lucifersnipnips, @givemebooksorgivemedeath, @sailor-earth-1
—————————————-
It was so...quiet.
You walked down the steps in LUX. No drinks were being served. No bodies were grinding up against each other on the dance floor. No one made out in the dark corners.
The only music that filled the empty space was a piano, which was being played by the only other soul in the room besides you.
“Lucifer.”
“Hello, K9.” He gave you a small smile and stopped playing, “I was just playing my goodbye tune.”
“Goodbye?” You looked at him, head tilted in puzzlement.
“Yes. It seems no amount of money will please that swine of a woman, and besides,” he lightly traced his fingertips over the keys, then smiles back up at you, “I've come to learn that ‘home’ is more than just a building.”
“Well, that's good,” you gave an over dramatic sigh, “but that totally ruins my thank you.”
Lucifer looked at you confused. You motioned for him to scoot over on the piano bench and sat down next to him, handing him a blue folder.
“What's this?”
“A certificate from the city. Stating that LUX is now a historic building and cannot be torn down under any circumstances.” You smiled.
“K9...” Lucifer was in complete bewilderment as he looked at the paper, “How did you…”
After a beat of him not continuing his question, you answered, “Well, I got the idea when you told me the little history quirks this place had. So, once I finished the case, I went to Chloe because I knew she had connections in that area. And,” you tapped on the paper, “presto!”
“K9...Thank you.” he smiled warmly at you.
“Yeah well, you should thank Chloe too.” You looked away from him slightly to try to stop the rising blush on your face, “Plus, I in no way can help you in getting the deed back from Eleanor. I mean,” you chuckled softly and looked back to him after cooling down, “I'm sure she'll sell it back to you now since she can't build her dumb mega mall, but definitely way above market value.”
“Of that I have no doubt, but K9,” Lucifer placed the folder down on the piano and turned his body towards you, “what did you mean by ‘this ruins my thank you’?”
“Oh, well, um,” you couldn't stop the blush this time, “I just felt like I had to properly thank you for that construction company.” You looked down at your lap in embarrassment, “I know it seems like a silly thing, but those guys really pulled through with my building. Once I hire some staff I can open up within two weeks, at most.”
“My dear K9,” you couldn't help but look back up at him at the sound of amusement in his voice, “if you wanted to find a proper way of thanking me you should have come to me, because I'm afraid this isn't it.”
“Um.” You looked back and forth between the discarded folder and the man next to you with wide eyes, “It isn't?”
“Nope! Afraid not!”, He gave the “p” in “nope” an extra pop. Lucifer was back in full form.
Oh boy.
“Now, I am in no way ungrateful for this gift, I assure you,” he placed a hand on the folder, “buuut,” he sang, “there is only one form of a ‘thank you’ that I will accept.” He smiled devilishly and leaned forward towards you.
“And...that is?”
“You.”
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“Um...you ok there Ms.?” Alice sits on your bed holding a cup of tea. You don't see it, but she looks more amused than concerned.
And why can't you see her expression? Because you're currently standing, with your back to her, in front of your closet staring at nothing for at least five minutes.
“Yup.” You continue to stare into the dark abyss of clothes, “Super.”
“You say this isn't a date, but you sure are stressing like a woman going on a date.”
“It's not a date, Ali!” You finally move your body to face Alice and give her a stern look.
“Uh-huh.” Alice just smiles up at you as she takes a sip of her tea.
“It's not, Alice. How many times do I have to tell you?” You start to feel a bit frustrated and turn back to your closet.
“Until I start believing it.”
“I only agreed to tonight to make sure he's good for Chloe.” You say to your closet.
Alice sighs and places her tea down on your nightstand, “Earth, stop using Chloe as an excuse. I think Lucifer really does-”
“NO!” You whirl on your sidekick, “He does not. He's a playboy nightclub owner who tries to get under everyone's skin!” Your nostrils flare, “And Chloe is not an excuse!” You point at Alice with one hand while the other balls into a fist, “You didn't hear what those two said about each other at court yesterday. They-” you slowly start to breathe in and out. Alice didn't deserve this, “they have...a connection.”
Good little Alice didn't yell or fight back. She just sat there and listened to your ranting with a serious expression on her face. No judgment. No eye-rolling.
She pats the spot next to her and you sit, “I have to make sure Chloe will be all right with him.” You say to the floor.
“Earth,” Alice wraps an arm around your shoulders, “You deserve to find that kind of connection too.”
“No, Alice. I've been through that before and you know what happened. I'm good with just worrying about you and Damien." You close your eyes and shake your head slightly, “I can't go through something like that again. Not when he still has so much damn power over me."
“But Lucifer might be able to-”
“No.”
Alice sighs. She knows that “no�� means to stop talking about it. Against her better judgment, however, she will humor you, “So, what does this ‘connection’ between Chloe and Lucifer look like?”
You heard her, but didn't answer. Alice squeezes your shoulders after some time.
“Earth?” She whispers.
“Soulmates.” You chuckle, not happily, when the word escapes your mouth, “Something I don't even believe in, and there it is.” You visibly swallow, “They're the perfect example.”
“Maybe you're wrong. Maybe it's different.” You just shake your head in response.
Your phone pings on the nightstand. The sound was that of the text message alert you picked for Chloe. You stand up and walk over to your phone. Unlocking it and reading the message, you give Alice more of that pitiful chuckle.
“Still think it's different?” You hold up your phone screen to Alice so she can read Chloe's message:
I kissed him. KISSED him, and I didn't want to stop. How the hell am I going to face him tomorrow? :sweatingemoji:
“So,” you pull the phone away once you see Alice done, “you going to help me pick an outfit now?”
----------------------------------------
“Uhhh,” you stuttered and moved away from him slightly, “excuse me?”
“Well someone has a dirty mind! Don’t worry darling, I don’t mean in that way. Well,” he followed you, making your attempt to escape for not, “unless you're up for that.” He stared deeply into your eyes and licked his lips.
You practically fell off the piano bench.
Lucifer laughed loudly, “Come come, my dear! I’ll stop now, I swear.” He grabbed your arm before you fell and pulled you back up.
“Yeah. Right.” You warily replied.
“I’m a man of my word, K9.” He smiled, then looked at you with interest, “Honestly K9, I had quite a fun time working with you on this case. What with both of us having the same wit,” he started counting off his fingers, “both becoming quite nauseated at the sight between Eric and Christi, and your impeccable knowledge on the correct height for a proper suicide jump.” His eyes sparkled, “Plus you have some fantastic dance moves, dear. Makes me wonder what other talents you have.”
You had no response to give the man. You were too focused on calming your heartbeat.
“So, here’s how I would like my favor repaid:” he continued, "let me take you out. I want to learn more about you, K9. Honest.” You looked at him, and you could see the honesty in his eyes. It made you feel more...comfortable.
“Well,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, “alright. If that’s what you want.”
“Oh it is, very much so.” He smiled so brightly at you, “I will make sure it’s fun for you as well, my dear. I hear from the Detective, and that lovely assistant of yours, that you’ve been all work work work since arriving.”
“Well, you have to ‘work work work’ in order to survive.”
“For you humans yes, but last night I saw a woman who was just begging to let loose.”
“It has been an exhausting couple of months back…”
“Lovely!” Lucifer looked genuinely excited now, “It’s settled then! I’ll text you the details once I’ve made them.” You smiled and nodded.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
----------------------------------------
“This is absolutely 100% bad.”
You can feel the anxiety building up in your stomach as you drive to LUX. As hard as you tried, you could not convince Lucifer to just send you the address to wherever he was taking you. He insisted that you arrive at LUX first, “Let me take you for a ride in my corvette! :winkieface: :devilemoji:”
The thought of spending an entire evening alone with Lucifer is anxiety-ridden enough, but now knowing you were also going to be stuck in a vehicle with him driving made it worse. You’ve heard the horror stories from Chloe.
Trying to calm yourself, you choose one of your favorite songs on your phone to play through the speaker. Focusing on singing to the song made the thoughts of tonight ease away.
Until you pull into the LUX parking garage, of course. You stop your car and hand the keys to the valet. The security guards let you skip ahead of the ever long line.
You stand at the top of the stairs with your hands on the railing. You scan the floor in search of Lucifer, but he was nowhere to be found within his crowd.
I’m here. You text him.
Wonderful! Come on up to my penthouse, dear! I’m almost done getting ready. The elevator is to the left from the entrance.
The first thought to cross your mind is how Lucifer is the first guy you met who takes longer than Damien to get ready. The second is the anxiety vomit that wants to burst its way out of you when he tells you to come up to his penthouse.
You swallow it down, though, and wipe your sweaty palms on your dress as you walk into the elevator and press the button to go up. You expected the ride to be longer, so when the elevator doors seem to open after less than a minute you squeak in surprise.
“Is that you, K9?” You hear Lucifer’s voice off in the distance as you exit the elevator.
“Um, yeah.” You say nervously.
“I’ll be done in just a minute! Make yourself at home!”
“Yeah, sure,” you whisper, mainly to yourself rather than to him. Your eyes widen in awe at the beauty of his penthouse.
The space is entirely sleek black, with pops of color from the furniture and small decor. The light that illuminated the space came from the huge private bar, an upside-down tree that hung from the ceiling, and a fire that was burning brightly in a far corner. To the left, Lucifer has an amazing looking library, and you have to physically imagine that you are superglued to the floor. Otherwise, you would have just ran over there and started reading. The bar is to your right, and under the upside tree stood another piano. In the middle of the space are some orange-colored, expensive-looking, couches with a coffee table and flat-screen tv.
You walk next to the piano and through the wall of windows you can see that Lucifer has a magnificent view of LA. You also see, to your right, Lucifer’s large bed covered in silky looking black sheets. There's no door separating the bedroom from the rest of the space. Instead, it's separated by an antique-looking wall on the left and an intricate colorful stained glass piece to the right.
Becoming braver, you take the step down into the living room. Around the corner of the antique wall, you can see that the balcony wraps around and spot a hot tub.
“Seriously? A hot tub too?”
“It’s my companions’ favorite feature when I bring them up here. Well, besides my bed of course.” You squeak again in surprise and spin on your heels to face Lucifer. He stood in the entryway to his bedroom and was smiling down at you.
“My my, you look positively stunning K9.” He continues to smile as he descends his bedroom steps. Adjusting his cufflinks, he looks you up and down. You're wearing a green, long sleeve, cocktail dress with a hollowed-out design. On your feet, you wear white sandal wedges with the same type of hollowed-out design. You can hear him make a delightful purring sound when he sees how your wedges made your legs look more toned.
“Um, thank you.” You aren't quite sure how to react, or how you are feeling at this moment.
“You’re welcome. Now come along, darling.” Lucifer pushes out his arm to you and you wrap your hand around it, “Let’s get to know each other!”
Lucifer leads you to his black corvette. Opening the passenger door for you he says to “get comfy” for it was an hour ride.
An hour. In a car. With him as the driver.
The seats are indeed comfy, but unfortunately they were doing nothing to calm your racing heart.
There's something else you notice about the car that was not helping your heart rate, “Um, Lucifer. Where are the seatbelts?”
He just smiles devilishly at you as he turns the car on, puts the car in reverse, quickly backs out of the parking space, and zooms out of his parking garage.
Fuck.
----------------------------------------
"I told you that I'd make this fun for you as well, darling."
It has been fifteen minutes into the ride, and you are just now realizing that Lucifer has been following all traffic laws.
"Oh…" you slowly release your hold on the car seat and door, "Sorry…" you feel completely embarrassed.
"No worries, K9. I had a thought that you've heard about my incredible driving from the Detective, and since you are also a cop I figured you would be more comfortable following the silly laws."
"Laws are there for a reason, Lucifer."
"Ah yes, and the reason is to be broken!" Lucifer gives you a wink and a smile. You turn your head away so he can't see your small smile.
"What kind of music do you like, darling?" Lucifer asks you after giving you a moment to calm fully down.
"Hmm," you think for a minute, "honestly? Anything."
"Truly?" Lucifer looks curiously at you, "Even gospel? Rap? Bloody country? The music that's called my music?"
You chuckle, "If I listen to the song enough I usually tend to like it. Unless the lyrics make absolutely no sense."
"Surely you must have a favorite genre though?"
"Hmm," you tap your chin in thought, "guess it'd have to be alternative."
"Lovely!" Lucifer turns his radio on to an alternative/rock station. For the rest of the ride he sings and taps to the songs, and you tap and hum along with him.
You aren't comfortable enough to sing around him.
Not yet, anyway.
----------------------------------------
The car ride ends when Lucifer pulls into some hotel's parking garage, and you give him a warning glare.
"We're not here for the hotel, sadly." Lucifer opens the car door for you and leads you by the small of your back.
"Then why are we here?"
"For the hotel's restaurant!" He leads you through the lobby of the hotel and through two huge glass double doors.
"Wow." You can't stop the amazement forming on your face at how beautiful this place is.
The restaurant's called "Openarie", and it lives up to its name. The structure is basically one giant greenhouse. Pots of various plants are hung on the ceiling and along the walls. Fairy lights light the space and the floor's pure concrete. Outside you see a dance floor with a small band on an elevated stage. There are a few couples out there swaying to the music.
"I take it I've done well?" Lucifer looks down at you with a shit-eating grin.
"Eh. So far." You just shrug and give him a sarcastic smile.
Both of you walk up to the booth and Lucifer gives his last name to the host. The host leads you two to a table seated for two, and thankfully there are no other parties around the table. Lucifer pulls out your chair for you to sit as the host puts the menus on the table.
"I take it since it's pretty busy in here and there's no one seated at the tables around us, you rented those out too?" You ask him, eyebrow raised, as you take a sip of water that your waitress puts down.
"Correct!" Lucifer gives you his devilish smile, "I wanted to make sure we weren't interrupted."
"More like overhead." You scuff, "Are you expecting me to tell you all my secrets?"
"Just the ones you're willing to share, darling."
You hum in response and look down at the menu while Lucifer orders some wine.
You look quizzically at the menu, "This looks like-"
"Shareable meals, yes." Lucifer smiles at your expression and takes a sip of the wine, "It's the theme of this place. People getting to know each other through shared food. Most of the time it goes well, hence the attachment to the hotel." His smile turns flirtatious.
"You actually did research for this?"
"That surprises you?"
"Well...yeah." Lucifer's smile turns small as he looks to his own menu.
Within a few minutes, the two of you manage to decide on an appetizer, meal, and dessert. Both of you engage in idle chatter while eating the appetizer, but once the main course arrives Lucifer wants to start asking those questions.
"So, my dear," Lucifer leans forward a bit and stares at you with interest, "tell me something about you."
"Before I do that I would like to talk to you about something." You place your napkin on your lap and have a bite of the food.
"Oooh, a twist! Alright then, K9." Lucifer does the same as you.
"What's your relationship with Chloe?"
Lucifer has to cover his mouth with a napkin to keep the food in from his laughter, "Well, aren't we the little overprotective friend?"
"Yes." You look at him seriously enough for his laughter to die, "I am."
"Alright. I'll answer your question, but first answer me this," Lucifer leans forward again, "Why?"
You pause, "Why?" When he nods you take a breath and look him in the eyes, "Because she's...my friend. Best friend."
"Yes, but you don't show this possessiveness with Ms. Green."
You sigh, "Because," you have to take another breath, "she's the first person to not fake anything with me. The first person not to lie to me. The first person…" you pause, "...who made me feel comfortable." You look at him now, "The first one to make me feel like it's ok to be myself."
Lucifer gives you a genuine smile, and his eyes are filled with no judgment. Just approval.
"Well then, we have another thing in common, K9."
You smile back at him. "Good. So how about an answer to my question?"
"It's quite simple, my dear." Lucifer takes a sip of wine, "She's my partner."
"But in what sense?" It's your turn to lean forward, pressing on, "How do you feel about her?"
"You sound like my therapist." Lucifer evades your question by taking a large sip of his drink.
"Look Lucifer," you intertwine your hands and place them on the table, "Chloe told me about the kiss." He's looking at you now, "I just want to make sure that she'll be ok. That she won't end up with another 'detective douche'."
Lucifer chuckles at the mention of his nickname for Dan, "What makes you think I'd be douche number two?"
"Well," you shrug and look up at the imaginary list in your head, "you're a player. You have a man, woman, both, or even multiple genders in your bed every night. You flirt with everyone. Oh and," you look back at him, "Chloe isn't someone who would appreciate getting dagger glares from another female while on a date."
"What makes you think she'd be getting glares from someone else while with me?"
"Because there's a tall blond woman who's been giving me daggers since we got here." You move your head in the direction behind him and drink your water. He turns a full 180 in his chair and says surprisingly:
"Mum?!"
You almost spit out your drink.
Did he just say mom?!
The woman smiles, finally being noticed, and saunters over to your table. She stops next to Lucifer's seat, "Hello, my son." She says with a fake surprise to her voice, "It truly is a small world my husband has created after all." She looks at you and sneers, "I'm Charlotte Richards, Lucifer's mother."
"Mother." Lucifer stands up and turns his body to her, blocking your view of his face, "Why are you here?" His question comes out as a hiss.
"I'm here for a company dinner."
"By yourself?" You speak up, and slightly regret it at the look she gives you.
"Most have left while others went to the dance floor." She says matter of factly.
Uh-huh. Your police senses start tingling.
"Well, if your companions have left then you should too." Lucifer says, "It's terribly embarrassing to be the only one at a table."
"I'm sorry, son!" She feigns ignorance, "Am I ruining your date?"
"This isn't a date." You say without thinking. She looks at you curiously with a raised brow, "I'm just...returning a favor."
"Yes," Lucifer says quietly. You think you see his shoulders slump slightly, but just mistake it.
The Goddess, however, sees the quick emotion of confusion slip past her son's eyes.
That's all she needs.
"I see. Well, I'm sorry to have interrupted." She smiles at you, "Goodbye." She gives Lucifer one final look before strutting out of the restaurant.
"I'm sorry about her." Lucifer sits back down.
"No worries. Protective mother, I presume?"
Lucifer scoffs and takes a sip of wine, "Hardly."
The trouble you see inside Lucifer is hurting you, for some reason. So to try and get rid of that cloud on him, you decide to start talking more about you instead of Chloe.
You aren't too worried about her with him anymore.
"Well, how about I actually start this favor." That perks him up, "What would you like to know?"
"Do you want to trade mothers?" You burst out into genuine laughter, and you can see it pleases Lucifer considerably. He's back.
"Unfortunately, for you, I don't have one."
"What?"
"I grew up in an orphanage. From there to various foster homes."
"You wouldn't consider any of those foster parents as parents?"
"Nope." You pop the "p" and drink your water.
Lucifer starts to continue his questioning, but pauses as the waitress gathers our eaten meal and places down our desert. Once she's out of earshot he continues:
"You have no knowledge of your real parents?"
You're quiet for a second, using the excuse to take a bite out of the chocolate cake, "Nope." No pop to the "p" this time.
Lucifer hums and takes a bite of the cake himself, "Why did you come back to LA?"
"Well," you give it a considerate thought, "I did miss Chloe a lot. Plus, even though I'm not too fond of children, I feel a bit guilty for not being here to help her out with Trixie."
"You despise children too?" Lucifer looks ecstatic, "I'm enjoying you more and more, K9."
You laugh, "Yes I don't like children and have no wish to birth any, but that doesn't mean I might not want to adopt or foster." You take another bite, "Since I know what it's like to have that kind of life and all. Plus," you point your fork at him, "I may 'despise' children, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't risk my life to save one. No one should die so young and innocent."
"Of course, and I agree." You just give him that "uh-huh I don't believe you" look while you chew on another bite.
"My next question is," he takes another bite, "why did you leave?"
Your fork pauses mid-air to your mouth. The memories whizzing by in front of your eyes.
"K9?" You're brought back to the present by Lucifer’s hand on yours. He looks fairly concerned.
"I'm sorry." You put the fork down and remove your hand from his, "That's too-"
"Private. It's quite alright dear." Lucifer gives you a warm smile, "I told you I only want to know what you're willing to give."
"Thank you." You smile back at him and you two finish the desert with Lucifer now asking "typical" get to know me questions.
What's your favorite color? Green. What's your favorite book and movie genre? Mystery, fiction, and fantasy for books. Musicals for movies. Don't like horror or thrillers? No, I don't like the feeling of my heart during those. Do you have any hobbies? I enjoy gardening and volunteering at animal shelters. Sounds boring. For you, yeah. Pet peeves? A man named Lucifer Morningstar. Haha, very funny. Thanks.
Dessert is now finished. Lucifer pays and tips the blushing waitress. You hear the band outside start to play a more upbeat tune, and can't help but stare.
"Would you like to dance, darling?" Lucifer smiles down at you and holds out his hand.
"Yes." You smile back and take his hand, "I would."
You two dance together until the band leaves for the night and head back to the corvette.
"Hey, Lucifer?" You look at him while he pulls out onto the road.
"Yes, my dear?"
"Drive." Lucifer smiles so brightly at you. He turns the radio full blast and drives without a care in the world.
This time you sing along with him.
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While Lucifer parks in his parking garage he manages to convince you to come up to the penthouse. There he gives you a glass of water, after failing to hand you whiskey instead, and you both sit on the Italian leather sofa. This time you're the one asking the typical get to know me questions.
What's your favorite color? Black. Yeah I really should have guessed that one. Quite. What's your favorite book and movie genre? Erratic books and porn. Uh-huh, do you have any hobbies--No, wait I think I know this one: watching porn, having sex, doing drugs, and drinking? You know me so well already K9, but you forgot about me helping the Detective on cases. That’s a job Lucifer, not a hobby. Is it? Hm. Any pet peeves? Humans blaming me for all their wrongdoing. What? Oh, that’s right. Your whole “devil” shtick. It’s not a shtick.
Once 2 am rolls around you decide it’s time to head home. You bid Lucifer farewell, and you might be going crazy from tiredness, but it looked like he wanted to say something to you. He says nothing, however, and bids you farewell as well.
As the elevator goes down to the garage you check your phone for the first time that night and see a bunch of text messages from Alice.
“It’s about time!” You decide to call her.
“Hello to you too, Ali.” The elevator doors open and you start the track to your car.
“Sooo, how’d your not-date go?”
“Honestly? Not bad.”
“You enjoyed yourself?”
“Yeah,” you smile to yourself, “Yeah. I did.”
“When’s the next not-date date?”
“There is no next time, Ali. This was just returning a favor.”
“Did it look like Lucifer enjoyed it?”
“Well-”
“Earth!” You're surprised to hear your name being called. You look over your shoulder and see Lucifer. He wasn’t running, but he was taking large strides towards you, and he was...smiling?
“Lucifer-” The heat behind you cut you off.
It’s like everything went into slow motion. You turn towards your car and see a bright white light and feel heat.
Very, very, hot heat.
You feel the fabric on your arms burn away as you cover your face. You drop your phone as you're pushed back into the air with huge force. You brace yourself to fall on concrete, but instead you hit a body. A toned body that holds you like wall support.
You chance a peek to the outside world, and all you can see before shutting them again is an arm in dark sleeves around you. The hand attached to the arm wore a familiar onyx ring.
Lucifer.
How did he...
But you couldn’t speak. Your throat's shut tight, and the only thing your brain can focus on right now is the pain happening over your entire body.
You can faintly hear Lucifer call out to you over the ringing of your ears.
You can feel Lucifer pick you up in his arms and run outside. You remember seeing more blinding lights, but this time of familiar colors, arrive around the nightclub.
Someone forced you out of Lucifer’s arms, and you can hear his panicked yelling as someone else pushed him back from you.
Then your world went dark.
#a devil's love#lucifer netflix#lucifer morningstar#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer x reader#lucifer#fanfic#fanfiction#azritesx3#azookiex3
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Eleanor Shellstrop and Julie Finlay are very similar characters. Aside from the obvious blonde hair and bubbly personality.
Both tend to be selfish, Eleanor more so than Finn. They both want relationships with people, fiercely, but they struggle because of their intrusive, often times overbearing behavior. Finn always thought she was right and it wa difficult for her to admit she was wrong or to slow down and see the bigger picture. Eleanor got frustrated when she couldn’t grasp ethics right away and was close to giving up or wanting to take a shortcut to speed up the mastery of it but Chidi and the others made her see that she had to learn it properly.
Their relationships with Michael and Russell (national treasure Ted Danson) are similar. Finn looked to him for guidance and assurance but also drove him damn near insane with her intrusiveness and constant trouble making. He looked to her for reason and understanding, needing her guidance and presence to know that what he was doing was right. She was like that little voice in his head telling him how to be and where to look. Their methods for solving crimes and problems worked as they bounced ideas and theories back and forth until they were both on the same page.
Likewise, Eleanor and Michael struggled to solve the problem of getting into the good place and how to endure the safety of her and the rest of team cockroach. They basically had an epic adventure to reach their goal and ultimately succeeded in solving the problem. He reminded her of the voice in her head telling her when to be good and to do good and she was in his head cheering him on as he struggled to make the neighborhoods work and get people to pass the tests and earn enough points to make it to the good place.
All four characters rely on emotional triggers to solve problems but also apply logic to figure out exactly what they needed. It was their bonds that allowed them to succeed. Michael became human because of Eleanor, long before the judge made him a human. And in the horrors of a job like a CSI, Finn reminded Russell how to be human and connect and disconnect from the pain of their jobs to be with his family the way she sought comfort in various dates, (Moreno, Darryl, Marc, Mike her ex, etc).
I could have been reaching, desperate for some closure, when I first started thinking of these four as similar, but it hit me from the very first season of The Good Place and in my constant deep dive into CSI long after it ended. Basic TV trope rehashed? Sheer luck? Combo of Ted doing roles so close together? Power of 3 incredible actors (Ted, Elisabeth, and Kristen) I guess I will never know. But I was lucky enough to see it and enjoy it and that is my good place.
#the good place#eleanor shellstrop#michael x eleanor#ted danson#csi cbs#julie finlay#michael the architect#michael the good place#elisabeth shue#kristen bell
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A Devil’s Love - Chapter 3
AN: Chapter 3 takes place at the end of Season 2 Episode 11. [sorry for the 5k words >.<"]
Warnings: Swearing
AO3
Fanfiction Net
Wattpad
Chapter 1: All Bad Things, I Promise
Chapter 2: All I Don’t Know
Chapter 3: It's Not A Date
It was so, quiet.
You walked down the steps in LUX. No drinks were being served. No bodies were grinding up against each other on the dancefloor. No one made out in the dark corners.
The only music that filled the empty space was a piano, which was being played by the only other soul in the room besides you.
“Lucifer.”
“Hello, K9.” He gave you a small smile and stopped playing, “I was just playing my goodbye tune.”
“Goodbye?” You looked at him, head tilted in puzzlement.
“Yes. It seems no amount of money will please that swine of a woman, and besides,” he lightly traced his fingertips over the keys, then smiles back up at you, “I've come to learn that ‘home’, is more than just a building.”
“Well, that's good,” you gave an over dramatic sigh, “But that totally ruins my thank you.”
Lucifer just looked at you with pure confusion. You motioned for him to scoot over on the piano bench and sat down next to him, handing him a blue folder.
“What's this?”
“A certificate from the city. Stating that LUX is now a historic building and cannot be torn down under any circumstances.” You smiled.
“K9,” Lucifer was in complete bewilderment as he looked at the paper, “How did you…”
After a beat of him not continuing his question, you answered, “Well, I got the idea when you told me the little history quirks this place had. So, once I finished the case, I went to Chloe because I knew she had connections in that area. And,” you tapped on the paper, “Presto!”
“K9...Thank You,” he smiled warmly at you.
“Yeah well, you should thank Chloe too,” you looked away from him slightly to try to stop the rising blush on your face, “Plus, I in no way can help you in getting the deed back from Eleanor. I mean,” you chuckled softly and looked back to him after cooling down, “I'm sure she'll sell it back to you now since she can't build her dumb mega mall, but definitely way above market value.”
“Of that I have no doubt, but K9,” Lucifer placed the folder down on the piano and turned his body towards you, “What did you mean by ‘this ruins my thank you’?”
“Oh, well, um,” you couldn't stop the blush this time, “I just felt like I had to properly thank you for that construction company,” you looked down at your lap in embarrassment, “I know it seems like a silly thing, but those guys really pulled through in my building. Once I hire some staff I can open up within two weeks, at most.”
“My dear K9,” you couldn't help but look back up at him at the sound of amusement in his voice, “If you wanted to find a proper way of thanking me you should have came to me, because I'm afraid this isn't it.”
“Um.” You looked back and forth between the discarded folder and the man next to you with wide eyes, “It isn't?”
“Nope! Afraid not!”, he gave the “p” in “nope” an extra pop. Lucifer was back in full form.
Oh boy.
“Now, I am in no way ungrateful for this gift, I assure you,” he placed a hand on the folder, “Buuut,” he sang, “there is only one form of a ‘thank you’ that I will accept.” He smiled devilishly and leaned forward towards you.
“And...that is?”
“You.”
“Um...you ok there Ms.?” Alice sat on your bed holding a cup of tea. You didn't see it, but she looked more amused then concerned.
And why couldn't you see her expression? Because you've been standing, with your back to her, in front of your closet staring at nothing for at least five minutes.
“Yup.” You continue to stare into the dark abyss of clothes, “Super.”
“You say this isn't a date, but you sure are stressing like a woman going on a date for the first time.”
“It's not a date, Ali!” You finally move your body to face Alice and you give her a stern look.
“Uh-huh.” Alice just smiles up at you as she takes a sip of her tea.
“It's not, Alice. How many times do I have to tell you?” You start to feel a bit frustrated and turn back to your closet.
“Until I start believing it.”
“I only agreed to tonight to make sure he's good for Chloe.” You say to your closet.
Alice sighs and places her tea down on your nightstand, “Earth, stop using Chloe as an excuse. I think Lucifer really does-”
“NO!” You whirl on your sidekick, “He does not. He's a playboy nightclub owner who tries to get under everyone's skin!” Your nostrils flare, “And Chloe is not an excuse!” You point at Alice with one hand while the other balls into a fist, “You didn't hear what those two said about each other at court yesterday. They-” you slowly start to breath in and out. Alice didn't deserve this, “They have...a connection.”
Good little Alice didn't yell or fight back. She just sat there and listened to your ranting with a serious expression on her face. No judgment. No eye rolling.
She pats the part of the bed next to her and you sit, “I have to make sure Chloe will be all right with him,” you say to the floor.
“Earth,” Alice wraps an arm around your shoulders, “You deserve to find that kind of connection too.”
“No, Alice. That's too dangerous and you know that. It's already bad enough that I have you and Chloe, hell, even Trixie to worry about,” you close your eyes and shake your head slightly, “I can't give them more ammunition against me.”
“But Lucifer might be able to-”
“No.”
Alice just sighs. She knows that “no” means to stop talking about it. Against her better judgment, however, she will humor you.
“So, what does this ‘connection’ between Chloe and Lucifer look like?”
You heard her, but didn't answer. Alice squeezes your shoulders after some time.
“Earth?” She whispers.
“Soulmates.” You chuckle, not happily, when the word escaped your mouth, “Something I don't even believe in, and there it is,” you visibly swallow, “They're the perfect example.”
“Maybe you're wrong. Maybe it's different.” You just shook your head in response.
Your phone pinged on your nightstand. The sound was that of the text message alert you picked for Chloe. You stand and walk over to your phone. Unlocking it and reading the message, you give Alice more of that pitiful chuckle.
“Still think it's different?” You hold up your phone screen to Alice so she can read Chloe's message:
I kissed him.
KISSED him, and I didn't want to stop.
How the hell am I going to face him tomorrow? :sweatingemoji:
“So,” you pull the phone away once you saw Alice was done, “You going to help me pick an outfit now?”
“Uhhh,” you stuttered and moved away from him slightly, “Excuse me?”
“Well someone has a dirty mind! Don’t worry, darling, I don’t mean in that way. Well,” he followed you, making your attempt to escape for not, “Unless you're up for that.” He stared deeply into your eyes and licked his lips.
You practically fell off the piano bench.
Lucifer laughed loudly, “Come come, my dear! I’ll stop now, I swear.” He grabbed your arm before you fell and pulled you back up.
“Yeah. Right.” You warily replied.
“I’m a man of my word, K9.” He smiled, then looked at you with interest, “Honestly K9, I had quite a fun time working with you on this case. What with both of us having the same wit,” he started counting off his fingers, “both becoming quite nauseated at the sight between Eric and Christi, and your impeccable knowledge on the correct height for a proper suicide jump,” his eyes sparkled, “Plus you have some fantastic dance moves, dear. Makes me wonder what other kind of talents you have.”
You had no response to give the man. You were too focused on calming your heartbeat.
“So, here’s how I would like my favor repaid,” he continued, “Let me take you out. I want to learn more about you, K9. Honest.” You looked to him, and you could see the honesty in his eyes. It made you feel more...comfortable.
“Well,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, “Alright. If that’s what you want.”
“Oh it is, very much so,” he smiled so brightly at you, “I will make sure it’s fun for you as well, my dear. I hear from the Detective, and that lovely assistant of yours, that you’ve been all work work work since arriving.”
“Well, you have to ‘work work work’ in order to survive.”
“For you humans yes, but last night I saw a woman who was just begging to let loose.”
“It has been an exhausting couple of months back…”
“Lovely!” Lucifer looked genuinely excited now, “It’s settled then! I’ll text you the details once I’ve made them.” You smiled and nodded.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
“This is absolutely 100% bad.”
You could feel the anxiety building up in your stomach as you drove to LUX. As hard as you tried, you could not convince Lucifer to just send you the address to where ever he was taking you. He insisted that you arrive at LUX first saying, “Let me take you for a ride in my corvette! :winkieface: :devilemoji:”
The thought of spending an entire evening alone with Lucifer was anxiety ridden enough, but now knowing you were also going to be stuck in a vehicle with him driving made it worse. You’ve heard the horror stories from Chloe.
Trying to calm yourself, you choose one of your favorite songs on your phone to play through the speaker. Focusing on singing to the song made the thoughts of tonight ease away.
Until you pull into the LUX parking garage, of course. You stop your car and hand the keys to the valet. The security guards let you skip ahead of the ever long line.
You stand at the top of the stairs with your hands on the railing. You scan the floor in search for Lucifer, but he was nowhere to be found within his crowd.
I’m here. You text him.
Wonderful! Come on up to my penthouse, dear! I’m almost done getting ready myself. The elevator is to the right at the top of the stairs.
The first thought to cross your mind was how Lucifer was the first guy you met who takes longer than a female to get ready for something. The second was the anxiety vomit that wanted to burst its way out of you when he told you to come up to his penthouse.
You swallow it down, though, and wipe your sweaty palms on your dress as you walk into the elevator and press the button to go up. You expected the ride to be longer, so when the elevator doors seemed to open after less than a minute you squeak in surprise.
“Is that you, K9?” You hear Lucifer’s voice off in the distance as you exit the elevator.
“Um, yeah,” You say nervously.
“I’ll be done in just a minute! Make yourself at home!”
“Yeah, sure,” you whisper mainly to yourself than to him. Your eyes begin to widen in awe at how beautiful his penthouse was.
The space was entirely sleek black, with pops of color from the furniture and small decor. The light that illuminated the space came from the huge private bar, an upside down tree that hung from the ceiling, and a fire that was burning brightly in a far corner. To the left of you Lucifer had an amazing looking library, and you had to physically imagine that you were super glued to the floor. Otherwise, you would have just run over there and start reading. The bar was to your right, and under the upside tree stood another piano. In the middle of the space were some orange colored expensive looking couches with a coffee table and flat screen tv in front.
You walk a bit further inside, next to the piano, and through the wall of windows you could tell that Lucifer had a magnificent view of LA. You also saw, to your right, Lucifer’s large bed covered in silky looking black sheets. There was no door separating the bedroom from the rest of the space. Instead, it was separated by an antique looking wall on the left and an intricate colorful stain glass piece to the right.
Becoming braver, you take the step down into the living room. Around the corner of the antique wall you can see that the balcony wraps around, and spot a hot tub.
“Seriously? A hot tub too?”
“It’s my companions favorite feature when I bring them up here. Well, besides my bed of course.” You squeak again in surprise and spin on your heels to face Lucifer. He stood in the entryway to his bedroom and was smiling down at you.
“My my. You look positively stunning, K9.” He continues to smile as he descends his bedroom steps. Adjusting his cufflinks, he looks you up and down. You wore a green, long sleeve, cocktail dress with a hollowed out design. On your feet you wore white sandal wedges with the same type of hollowed out design. You could hear him make a delighted purring sound when he saw how your wedges made your legs more toned.
“Um, thank you,” you weren’t quite sure how to react, or how you were feeling in this moment.
“You’re welcome. Now come along, darling,” Lucifer pushes out his arm to you and you wrap your hand around it, “Let’s get to know each other!”
Lucifer lead you to is black corvette. Opening the passenger door for you he said to “get comfy” for it was an hour ride.
An hour. In a car. With him as the driver.
The seats were indeed comfy, but unfortunately they were doing nothing to calm your racing heart.
There was something else you noticed about the car that was not helping your heart rate, “Um, Lucifer. Where are the seatbelts?”
He just smiles devilishly at you as he turns the car on, puts the car in reverse, quickly backs out of the parking space, and zooms out of his parking garage.
Fuck.
"I told you that I'd make this fun for you as well, darling."
It has been fifteen minutes into the ride, and you were just now realizing that Lucifer had been following all traffic laws.
"Oh…" you slowly release your hold on the car seat and door, "Sorry…" you felt completely embarrassed.
"No worries, K9. I had a thought that you've heard about my incredible driving from the Detective, and since you are also a cop I figured you would be more comfortable following the silly laws."
"Laws are there for a reason, Lucifer."
"Ah yes, and the reason is to be broken!" Lucifer gives you a wink and a smile. You turn your head away so he can't see your small smile.
"What kind of music do you like, darling?" Lucifer asks you after giving you a moment to calm fully down.
"Hmm," you thought for a minute, "Honestly? Anything."
"Truly?" Lucifer looks curiously at you, "Even gospel? Rap? Bloody country? The music that's called my music?"
You give a little chuckle,"If I listen to the song enough I usually tend to like it. Unless the lyrics make absolutely no sense."
"Surely you must have a favorite genre though?"
"Hmm," you tap your chin in thought, "Guess it'd have to be alternative."
"Lovely!" Lucifer turns his radio on to an alternative/rock station. For the rest of the ride he would sing and tap to the songs, and you tap and hum along with him.
You weren't comfortable enough to sing around him.
Not yet, anyway.
The end of the car ride is Lucifer pulling into some hotel's parking garage, and you give him a warning in an eyebrow raise.
"We're not here for the hotel, sadly." Lucifer opens the car door for you and leads you by the small of your back.
"Then why are we here?"
"For the hotel's restaurant!" He leads you through the lobby of the hotel and through two huge glass double doors.
"Wow." You couldn't stop the amazement forming on your face at how beautiful this place was.
The restaurant is called "Openarie", and it lives up to its name. The structure was basically one giant greenhouse. Pots of various plants were hung on the ceiling and along the walls. Fairy lights light the space, and the floor was pure concrete. Outside you saw a dance floor with a small band on a elevated stage. There were a few couples out there swaying to the music.
"I take it I've done well?" Lucifer looks down to you with a shit eating grin.
"Eh. So far." You just shrug and give him a little sarcastic smile.
The both of you walk up to the booth and Lucifer gives his last name to the host. The host leads the both of you to a table seated for two, and thankfully there were no other parties around the table. Lucifer pulls out your chair for you to sit as the host puts the menus on the table.
"I take it since it's pretty busy in here and there's no one seated at the tables around us you rented those out too?" You ask him, eyebrow raised, as you take a sip of water that your waitress put down.
"Correct!" Lucifer gives you his devilish smile, "I wanted to make sure we weren't interrupted."
"More like overhead," you scuff, "You expecting me to tell you all my secrets?"
"Just the ones you're willing to share, darling."
You hum as a response and look down at the menu while Lucifer ordered some wine.
You look quizzically at the menu, "This looks like-"
"Shareable meals, yes." Lucifer smiles at your expression and takes a sip of the wine, "It's the theme of this place. People getting to know each other through shared food. Most of the time it goes well, hence the attachment to the hotel." His smile turns flirtatious.
"You actually did research for this?"
"That surprises you?"
"Well...yeah." Lucifer's smile turns small as he looks to his own menu.
Within a few minutes the two of you manage to decide on an appetizer, meal, and dessert. Both of you engage in idle chatter while eating the appetizer, but once the main course arrives Lucifer wants to start asking those questions.
"So, my dear," Lucifer leans forward a bit and stares at you with interest, "Tell me something about you."
"Before I do that I would like to talk to you about something," you place your napkin on your lap and have a bite of the food.
"Oooh, a twist! Alright then, K9," Lucifer does the same as you.
"What's your relationship with Chloe?"
Lucifer has to cover his mouth with a napkin to keep the food in from his laughter.
"Well aren't we the little overprotective friend?"
"Yes." You look at him seriously enough for his laughter to die, "I am."
"Alright. I'll answer your question, but first answer me this," Lucifer leans forward again.
"Why?"
You pause, "Why?" When he nods you take a breath and look him in the eyes.
"Because she's...my friend. Best friend."
"Yes, but you don't show this possessiveness with Ms. Green."
You sigh, "Because," you have to take another breath, "Ok. It's because Chloe was my first friend." You stir your water around and look at that instead of him, "The first person to not fake anything with me. The first person not to lie to me. The first person…" you pause, "...who made me feel comfortable." You look at him now, "The first one to make me feel like it's ok to be myself."
Lucifer gives you a genuine small smile, and his eyes are filled with no judgement. Just approval.
"Well then, we have another thing in common K9." You smile back at him.
"Good. So how about an answer to my question?"
"It's quite simple, my dear," Lucifer takes a sip of wine, "She's my partner."
"But in what sense?" It was your turn to lean forward, pressing on, "How do you feel about her?"
"You sound like my therapist." Lucifer evades your question by taking a large sip of his drink.
"Look Lucifer," you intertwine your hands and place them on the table, "Chloe told me about the kiss," he's looking at you now, "I just want to make sure that she'll be ok. That she won't end up with another 'detective douche'."
Lucifer chuckles slightly at the mention of the nickname he gave Chloe's ex, "What makes you think I'd be douche number two?"
"Well," you shrug and look up at the imaginary list in your head, "You're a player. You have a man, woman, both, or even multiple genders in your bed every night. You flirt with everyone. Oh and," you look back at him, "Chloe isn't someone who would appreciate getting dagger glares from another female while on a date."
"What makes you think she'd be getting glares from someone else while with me?"
"Because there's a tall blond women who has been giving me dagger glares since we got here." You move your head in the direction behind him and drink your water. He turns a full 180 in his chair and says surprisingly:
"Mum?!"
You almost spit out your drink.
Did he just say mom?!
The women smiles, after finally being noticed, and saunters over to your table. She stops next to Lucifer's seat.
"Hello, my son," she said with a fake surprise to her voice, "It truly is a small world my husband has created after all."
"Mother?!" Lucifer stands up and turns his body to her, blocking your view of his face, "What are you doing here?" The last part of his sentence came out as a hiss.
"I'm here for a company dinner."
"By yourself?" You spoke up, and slightly regret it at the look she gave you.
"Most have left while others went to the dance floor," she said matter of factly.
Uh huh. Your police senses start tingling.
"Well if your companions have left then you should go too," Lucifer says, "It's terribly embarrassing to be the only one at a table."
"I'm sorry son," she feigned ignorance, "Am I ruining your date?"
"This isn't a date." You say without thinking. She looks at you curiously with a brow raised, "I'm just...returning a favor."
"Yes." Lucifer seemed to whisper the reply. You thought you saw his shoulders slump slightly, but just mistook it for the lighting of the place.
The Goddess, however, saw the quick emotion of pain and confusion slip past her son's eyes.
That was all an answer she needed.
"I see. Well, I'm sorry to have interrupt." She smiles at you, "Goodbye." She gives Lucifer one final look before strutting out of the restaurant.
"I'm sorry about her," Lucifer sits back down.
"No worries. Protective mother I presume?"
Lucifer scoffs and takes a sip of wine, "Hardly."
The trouble you saw inside Lucifer was making you hurt, for some reason. So to try and get rid of that cloud on him, you decide to start talking more about you instead of Chloe.
You weren't too worried about her with him anymore.
"Well, how about I actually start this favor." That perks him up, "What would you like to know?"
"Do you want to trade mothers?" You burst out into genuine laughter, and you can see it pleases Lucifer considerably. He's back.
"Unfortunately, for you, I don't have one."
"What?"
"I grew up in an orphanage. From there to various foster homes."
"You wouldn't consider any of those foster parents as parents?"
"Nope." You pop the "p" and drink your water.
Lucifer starts to continue his questioning, but pauses as the waitress gathers our eaten meal and places down our desert. Once she's out of ear shot he continues:
"You have no knowledge of your real parents?"
You were quiet for a second, using the excuse to take a bite out of the chocolate cake, "Nope." No pop to the "p" this time.
Lucifer hums and takes a bite of the cake himself, "Why did you come back to LA?"
"Well," you gave it a considerate thought, "I did miss Chloe a lot. Plus, even though I'm not too fond of children, I feel a bit guilty for not being here to help her out with Trixie."
"You despise children too?" Lucifer looks ecstatic, "I'm enjoying you more and more, K9."
You laugh, "Yes I don't like children and have no wish to birth any, but that doesn't mean I might not want to one day wish to adopt or foster." You take another bite, "Since I know what it's like to have that kind of life and all. Plus," you point your fork at him, "I may 'despise' children, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't risk my life to save one. No one should die so young and innocent."
"Of course, and I agree," you just give him that "uh huh I don't believe you" look while you chew on another bite.
"My next question, then, is," he takes another bite, "Why did you leave?"
Your fork pauses mid air to your mouth. The memories whizzing by in front of your eyes.
"K9?" You're brought back to the present by Lucifers hand on yours. He looks fairly concerned.
"I'm sorry." You put the fork down and remove your hand from his, "That's too-"
"Private. It's quite alright dear," Lucifer gives you a warm smile, "I told you I only want to know what your willing to give."
"Thank You." You smile back at him and you two finish the desert with Lucifer now asking "typical" get to know questions.
What's your favorite color? Green. What's your favorite book and movie genre? Mystery, Fiction, Fantasy, and Sci-fi for books. Action, Adventure, Musicals, and Sci-Fi for movies. Don't like horror or thrillers? Don't like the feeling of my heart beat during those. Do you have any hobbies? I enjoy gardening, volunteering at animal shelters, and painting. Sounds boring. For you, yeah. Pet peeves? A man named Lucifer Morningstar. Haha very funny. Thanks.
Desert is now finished and Lucifer pays and tips the blushing waitress. You hear the band outside start to play a more upbeat tune, and can't help but stare.
"Would you like to dance, darling?" Lucifer smiles down at you and holds out his hand.
"Yes." You smile back and take his hand, "I do."
You two dance together until the band leaves for the night and head back to the corvette.
"Hey, Lucifer?" you look at him while he pulls out onto the road.
"Yes, my dear?"
"Drive." Lucifer's smiles so brightly at you. He turns the radio full blast and drives without a care in the world.
This time you sing along with him.
While Lucifer parks into his parking garage he manages to convince you to come up to the penthouse. There he gives you a glass of water, after failing to hand you whiskey instead, and you both sit on the italian leather sofa. This time you were the one asking the typical get to know me questions.
What's your favorite color? Black. Yeah I really should have guessed that one. Quite. What's your favorite book and movie genre? Erratic books and porn. Uh-huh, do you have any hobbies--No, wait I think I know this one: watching porn, having sex, doing drugs, and drinking? You know me so well already K9, but you forgot about me helping the Detective on cases. That’s a job Lucifer, not a hobby. Is it? Hm. Any pet peeves? Humans blaming me for all their wrong doing. What? Oh, that’s right. You’re whole “devil” shtick. It’s not a shtick.
Once 2am rolled around you decide it’s time to head home. You bid Lucifer farewell, and you might be going crazy from tiredness, but it looked like he wanted to say something to you. He says nothing, however, and bids you farewell also.
As the elevator goes down to the garage you check your phone for the first time that night, and see a bunch of text messages from Alice.
“It’s about time!” you decided to call her.
“Hello to you too, Ali.” The elevator doors open and you start the track to your car.
“Sooo, how’d your not-date go?”
“Honestly? Not bad.”
“You enjoyed yourself?”
“Yeah,” you smile to yourself, “Yeah. I did.”
“When’s the next not-date date?”
“There is no next time, Ali. This was just returning a favor.”
“Did it look like Lucifer enjoyed it?”
“Well-”
“Earth!” You were surprised to hear your name being called. You look over your shoulder and see Lucifer exiting the elevator. He wasn’t running, but he was taking large strides towards you, and he was...smiling?
“Lucifer-” The heat behind you cut you off.
It’s like everything went into slow motion. You turned toward your car and saw a bright white light and felt heat.
Very, very, hot heat.
Your felt the fabric on your arms burn away as you covered your face. You dropped your phone as you were pushed back into the air with huge force. You braced yourself to fall on the concrete, but instead you hit a body. A toned body that held you like wall support.
You chance a peek to the outside world, and all you could see before shutting them again was a arm in dark sleeves around you. The hand attached to the arm wore a familiar onyx ring.
Lucifer.
How did he...
But you couldn’t speak. Your throat was shut tight, and the only thing your brain could focus on right now was the pain happening over your entire body.
You can faintly hear Lucifer call out to you over the ringing of your ears.
You can feel Lucifer pick you up in his arms and run outside. You remember seeing more blinding lights, but this time of familiar colors, arrive around the nightclub.
Someone had to force you out of Lucifer’s arms, and could hear his panicked yelling as someone else pushed him back from you.
Then your world went dark.
Tag List: @insanity-is-always-fun @anushay1998 @emiwrites3reads @i-am-canada-13
#lucifer morningstar#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer x reader#lucifer on netflix#reader insert#fanfiction#a devil's love#azookiex3
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Miranda/Eleanor ficlet for femslash friday
I loved all the Mirandanor we got today!! I thought I would join the party. Here's the first scene of my Miranda-is-a-witch AU, set during season 4. The idea is that Miranda will seduce Eleanor away from Rogers (what like it’s hard?)
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Eleanor thought she was dreaming at first.
She had fallen into a deep sleep beside Rogers under the weight of the warm humid night. Her heart ached. In moments of weakness like this she was struck by hatred so strong she felt physically sick with it--hatred for a man she had convinced herself she loved, hatred for herself for making the choices that had lead her here. She'd betrayed everyone she knew for Nassau, and in some twist of poetic irony, that list now included herself. She had betrayed herself. And what good had that done Nassau? She didn’t believe the woman she’d been would recognize her anymore.
She was too tired to get up and drown her thoughts with a drink, so she let dreams claim her.
At first, it was like many of dreams--indistinct and a little muddled. She was walking through a house, and through the dream haze she thought distantly that she recognized this place. She had been here as a girl. This was the governor’s house in Charlestown. And she was at a door, and the door was opening.
Flint sat at the table before her. Beside him, Miranda, her dark hair curling over her pale breast. They both sat still and tensed. At the head of the table was a man she did not know--Lord Peter Ashe, she supposed, invented by her imagination, for she had never met the man. Why she needed to reminisce about this place, she had no clue. Charlestown had burned months ago. Miranda had been killed--she had been told it was by gunshot. And Flint had begun a war.
They were speaking about the pardons, and a Lord Hamilton. Eleanor could not make much sense of it. It was a blur, as dreams go. Complete nonsense, fabricated by her overactive tired brain, she was sure. The Thomas Hamilton part was no doubt inspired by rumors about why Flint had never visited the brothel or taken a lover. Eleanor wryly acknowledged that of course there were others besides her who hid such liaisons with the same sex, so it was not impossible to imagine that Flint was one of them...but that was all this was, imagining. An imagining of answers for things Eleanor had long wanted to know. About Flint’s past--about Miranda’s past. None of it was true. It was a dream.
At the beginning she had thought she disliked Miranda, perhaps for simply having secrets. A whole island had been under her power at the time, but Miranda had seemed untouchable at the heart of it, shrouded in mystery, beautiful and distant. When Miranda made it clear how she viewed the men with whom Eleanor did business, Eleanor had resented it furiously, all the more for the voice in the back of her head reminding her she had thought similar things of those men. They were stupid and crude, many of them. If not most. She did not want Miranda to think she was no better than any of the witless fucks on the beach. What she wanted was to make Miranda understand how hard she had worked, how dirty she had fought, just to be viewed as an equal to those men. And she wondered what Miranda would have done in her place.
She could say she didn’t regret anything she had done, but that would be a lie. She could say she wasn’t proud of what she had done, but it would be a lie as well. Why she wanted to work out these contradictions in front of Miranda was beyond her. She didn’t need Miranda’s favor. She hadn’t ever needed anything from Miranda.
The clock struck it’s chime, and with a rush of vertigo, Eleanor felt suddenly like she was there, in the room with the four of them: Flint and Miranda and Ashe with his guard. A breeze was coming in the open window, ruffling Miranda’s hair and the fabric of her dress.
Ashe seemed not too different from Rogers--a man convinced of his righteousness, used to getting his way, completely unaware of the privilege he had been awarded by his sex and status.
When Ashe’s betrayal came into the open Flint went silent, like the breath had been knocked out of him, but Miranda flared to life.
“I want to see this whole city, which you purchased with our misery, burn!” Miranda shouted, like a clap of thunder, and it was so loud that her words rang in Eleanor’s ears.
Miranda’s eyes kindled with fire, and Eleanor could practically feel the heat of her rage, feel it spreading to her own chest as if caught by an ember, and all Eleanor could think in that moment was that Miranda had never looked more beautiful.
Eleanor had thought--naively, stupidly--that Miranda was above those emotions like rage and vengeance. She had seen Miranda as some gentle Englishwoman living peacefully in the countryside. It was a flat image one takes at first glance, one likely intended by Miranda herself, a perception so obviously superficial that Eleanor was ashamed.
Miranda was like her. She had held this fire inside her for years, and kept the appearance of control and calm, and it had burned until she couldn’t contain it. The pain, the loneliness, the rage, the hurt. Eleanor knew about that too. They both knew about being judged twice as hard for being a woman, and being twice the monster for it when the ember finally caught fire.
With that realization Eleanor felt herself waking from a slumber she felt had lasted months since she’d been in England. And she burned, hot and then with cold fury, for being captured and brought to England, for mutilating herself into the role she now occupied simply for the need to survive.
But she would feel no shame over that. She would not punish herself for where life had taken her--because if she did, she would be doing the work of those who would like to see her punished.
She saw an echo of her old self in Miranda, and wanted to reach out to capture it, as much as to reach for the familiarity of her past self as to reach for the beautiful stranger before her, to reach for the secrets behind her mouth and eyes, to know--
The gunshot rang out and Eleanor flinched and watched with horror as Miranda crumpled to the floor. She heard Flint’s yell, but even as Miranda fell, she remained in the air where she had stood as an after image. Or perhaps she was a ghost. It was all a dream, anyway. A ghost and a dream, twice as foolish for Eleanor to be thinking about in British-controlled Nassau from what would soon be her marriage bed.
Miranda looked right at Eleanor. She looked hard at Eleanor, she she could really see her. Then Miranda walked towards her, and Eleanor noticed that there was no gunshot wound on that perfect brow. She could feel Miranda’s breath on her lips for a few moments before Miranda leaned forward kissed her.
It wasn't like Max's kisses, sweet and soft. It wasn’t like Vane’s kisses, hungry like he was trying to possess more of Eleanor than she was willing to give to anyone. Miranda's kiss was searing and hard but without any desire to conquer, the kiss of an equal. Miranda tugged on Eleanor’s lips with her teeth and entered Eleanor’s mouth with her tongue like she was getting to know her, but also like she already knew some part of her--some of the darkness, and the loneliness, and the pain.
If ever Eleanor had imaged being kissed by Miranda she had not thought Miranda would kiss like this.
Miranda’s kiss was heavy and purposeful, and every part of Eleanor’s body felt alive, more alive than she’d felt for months. Miranda pulled their bodies flush together, and Eleanor’s hands moved down to her bodice, trying to touch her everywhere at once, as Miranda’s nails dragged down her neck. Miranda’s hands pulled at her clothes, and Eleanor’s mind was ablaze with the thought of everything they could do together, all the ways she could get to know Miranda’s lips and eyes, the curve of her waist, the softness of her dark hair--
Eleanor sat up in bed, chest heaving. She could still feel the impression of Miranda’s fingers on her throat, the softness of Miranda’s breast under her fingers, the burning heat of Miranda’s kiss on her lips like a promise. She curled onto her side as if wounded, sliding her hand down until her fingers met the wetness between her thighs.
That had been no dream.
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10 Best Movies of 2019 (So Far)
With the summer movie season winding down, we look back at the top 10 films cinema has had to offer this far into 2019.
The summer movie season of 2019 is over. While the heat continues to swelter, and school by and large remains out, the final weekend of new Hollywood blockbuster extravaganzas has sped off the scene like a getaway car. And given the box office receipts for most of the studio tentpoles this year, we imagine the whole industry is ready to put the summer behind them. Be that as it may, cinema remains strong, hence why we think is the perfect time to look back on the year so far. While many others like to take stock of the movie calendar at the literal halfway mark that occurs at the end of June, we prefer letting the biggest moviegoing season to wrap up and only start reflecting during the deep breath before film festivals like TIFF and Telluride kick off the awards season. Indeed, you’ll see below that this July and August have been unusually fruitful. Looking back at the first seven-plus months of 2019 reveals that, for whatever box office hand-wringing, it’s already been a promising time for new voices making an impact and legendary auteurs communicating with the changing filmmaking landscape. So without further ado, please join us in celebrating the top 10 movies of 2019. So far.
10. The Peanut Butter Falcon
Tall tales and the myths they build can be stronger than any river current in the American South. Many of the best works of fiction from that part of the country embrace such grandiosity, and The Peanut Butter Falcon is no exception. An infinitely sweet film populated with outsized personalities, directors Tyler Nilson and Mike Schwartz’s transcendentalist adventure was one of the biggest surprises out of SXSW earlier this year, and months later it still radiates an authentic breezy charm. Very much a modern day Huckleberry Finn for those labeled as disabled or special needs, the film crafts its own legend around Zak (Zack Gottsagen), a young man with Down Syndrome that society wishes to forget. Save for Eleanor (Dakota Johnson), his concerned doctor at the retirement home the state abandoned him in, no one really cares when Zak escapes to chase his dream of becoming a professional wrestler. Yet a dispiriting prologue gives way to the loveliest journey as Zak befriends Tyler (Shia LaBeouf) and hitches a ride with the good ol’ boy on a raft floating down the North Carolina Outer Banks. It’s a movie happily supplied with homespun love and wonderfully textured characters, including all three leads, among whom LaBeouf proves nigh unrecognizable as the reluctant Good Samaritan by way of Mark Twain’s St. Petersburg.
9. Luce
The best movies provoke discussion, and few this year will be as challenging as the conversations borne by director Julius Onah and screenwriter J.C. Lee’s Luce. A film based on Lee’s own play, the movie interrogates the idea of the American Dream and wonders if even when it comes true, how much of that is a manipulation by those who espouse skepticism of it. The film is about a star athlete and valedictorian named Luce (Kelvin Harrison Jr.). Actually, Luce was just what his parents (Naomi Watts and Tim Roth) made up after they adopted him from a war-torn African nation, unable to pronounce his birth name. Even so, he very much is their son and not only the apple of their eye, but that of his whole school. Perhaps this is why his teacher, Ms. Harriet Wilson (Octavia Spencer), holds him to a different standard than his other African American peers. It’s a story about a school-sized tinderbox of good intentions that threatens to ignite after Harriet finds illegal fireworks in Luce’s locker, all of which bubbles with the tension of a thriller even as it plays like a truth-searching drama. Luce is a Rorschach Test for both the characters and audiences to examine their own racial biases, and the hypocrisy of expectations. Nevertheless, the film exceeds ours.
8. Avengers: Endgame
It would be easy in more cynical circles to shrug off Avengers: Endgame as the ultimate fan service movie, and in fact it is. But after 11 years of world-building, and the even more impressive franchise-building occurring outside of its continuity, Marvel Studios’ 22nd installment is the grandest of commercial and long-form narrative achievements. By making a series finale to all the movies that came before it, including the cliffhanger in Avengers: Infinity War, Marvel Studios President Kevin Feige and his legion of collaborators, most notably directors Joe and Anthony Russo, and Iron Man star Robert Downey Jr., find the rare quality that most eludes traditional television storytellers: a fully satisfying ending. At three hours, Avengers: Endgame rises above almost anything else Marvel has ever produced and acts as a pseudo-manifesto for the studio. While many of the parts are lesser than the whole, the tight storytelling and tonal consistency over nearly two dozen films pays off with the kind of multi-tiered catharsis and spectacle that drives global moviegoers into theaters by the tens of millions. Not since the days of Cecil B. DeMille has there been an epic so brimming with familiar faces, but unlike the overstuffed Infinity War, this showmanship is wrapped in a bow of gracefulness. This is the ultimate Marvel Studios movie. With a renewal of the charisma and humanity Downey first brought to this enterprise, there is a creative spark shining bright here… and that leaves open the question of how Marvel can possibly repeat this high-note, both in terms of heart and gross, ever again.
7. Toy Story 4
Toy Story 4 didn't need to be made. The ending of 2010’s Toy Story 3 was the perfect conclusion to a saga that began the day a child named Andy first played with a cowboy doll called Woody. Yet we’re so glad that Toy Story 4 exists, as Pixar discovered a soulful epilogue to the characters who first made the studio the preeminent animation house of the 21st century. Essentially a coda to an already finished yarn, Pixar’s elegant solution to being required to return to the childhood daydream of Woody and Buzz Lightyear is to permanently wrap-up their shared journey in the most adult of ways. On the surface, this is another story about Woody (Tom Hanks) trying to teach a wayward toy its purpose, in this case a do-it-yourself Frankenstein’s Monster named Forky (Tony Hale). But Toy Story 4 raises a much more interesting question about what would make Woody want to move on with his life as a lost toy? Experiencing something akin to a midlife crisis when he crosses paths with old flame Bo Peep (Annie Potts), Woody is asked to change his perspective of what life is meant to be after reaching a certain age, just as a post-John Lasseter Pixar discovers a new and hopefully more inclusive identity. This movie does, after all, finally give Bo Peep depth and a humanity as heart-rending as anything to do with the cowboy that has a snake in his boot. Not bad for characters made of cloth and porcelain.
6. Midsommar
If you ever wanted a movie to burn down your toxic relationship, Midsommar is gasoline that comes with already lit flames. As Ari Aster’s heartfelt explanation of why some people do not belong together, this Swedish set film turns cult-based horror on its head and reverses everything you might expect from the director of Hereditary. Bringing horror out into the sunshine, Midsommar presents a world that is as shadowless as it is pitiless. Taking place almost entirely during the July rituals of an obscure (and fictional) Pagan commune, the film provides a set of antagonists who might kill you with kindness while displaying an egalitarian empathy as foreign to modern (and selfish) American traditions as their deadlier customs. This creates a striking backdrop to a potent allegory about why Florence Pugh’s Dani and Jack Reynor’s Christian really should have broken up long ago. Pugh is especially haunting as a young woman who’s in a state of perpetual trauma after hanging on to a worn-out band aid in need of tearing for six months. Her harrowing epiphany adds an insidious persuasiveness to cruel machinations that turn cooing Millennial intellectuals into horror’s new dumb American red meat. And the fumes produced by their roasting are quite beautiful, indeed.
5. The Farewell
Another film about the shock incurred by contrasting cultures, The Farewell is also a gorgeously realized portrait of a woman who feels drawn yet alienated by both sides of her identity. But whatever confusion she might experience is supplanted by an absolute love for her grandmother and the connection that elder represents to an ever-fading past. Writer-director Lulu Wang’s incredibly personal drama is equal parts hilarious and heartbreaking, all while never once making a single false step in its unusual path through grief—one that must be made in total silence. The Farewell centers on Awkwafina’s Billi, a 30-year-old New Yorker who was born in China and was only six when her parents moved to the States, leaving a vague impression of an idyllic childhood with her grandmother Nai Nai (Shuzhen Zhou). However, what exactly this feeling of severed identity means to Billi comes to the surface when Nai Nai is diagnosed with lung cancer… something that her family will not tell her of because in China, it is the family’s emotional burden to carry the knowledge of a seeming death sentence. Believing she only is suffering from a cold, Nai Nai is thrilled that her adult children from America and Japan are returning home for a wedding that is in reality a pretense for everyone to say goodbye—although not Billi. Her parents think she’ll crack and admit this pantomime. Thus she must crash her grandmother’s own living wake. Billi’s saddened homecoming is constantly juxtaposed by her grandmother’s glowing delight to have a full house again. Occupying the space between tragedy and joy, Billi’s Western apprehension to Chinese custom and her longing to reconnect with it, Wang finds a canvas to paint every shade of anguish and exhilaration offered by nostalgia and an unfamiliar heritage. Awkwafina also confirms she is a star on the rise by carrying this intimate tragi-comedy with a role that requires her to speak in English, in Chinese, and most impressively not at all, while still saying everything.
4. Us
Jordan Peele follows up his directorial debut with another horror movie that will be dissected and debated for a long time to come. More ambitious than Get Out, and arguably the most vividly photographed chiller in ages, Us is bigger but still razor-focused on its subject. A massive allegory about class warfare turning storybook supernatural, Peele imagines a conflict between the haves and have-nots in American society while noting that, at the heart of the matter, they’re the same exact type of people. With a deft touch and sense of humor that is as refreshing as it was in Get Out, Peele introduces audiences to the Wilson family, who have seemingly everything but are still envious of keeping up with the proverbial (white) Joneses. For patriarch Gabe (Winston Duke), this can be accepted as a point of obliviousness, but Lupita Nyong’o’s Adelaide cannot feign such innocence as she has seen the face of want and hunger—it was her own—and she left it to rot. Yet it rises for her again when “Red,” her doppelganger she once spied in a funhouse mirror, comes home with equally twisted doubles of her family. It is a tour de force showcase for Nyong’o, who gives an Oscar-worthy turn as both Adelaide and Red. Us provides a juicy parable as rich as the best Twilight Zone storytelling by Rod Serling that inspired it. The end might overreach, but the breadth of its vision and arm remains an inspiration.
3. The Last Black Man in San Francisco
You cannot hate a place unless you love it. This is a paradox that Joe Talbot and Jimmie Fails’ The Last Black Man in San Francisco posits with illuminating insight. An epic poem for the modern age of gentrification, this is a movie that focuses on a Bay City whose skyrocketing real estate has pushed the faces and hands that built its skyline to the fringes. It’s a fact of life encapsulated by an opening image of a young black girl going to school by the edge of saltwater so poisonous that city employees will only venture there in hazmat suits. Pushed literally to the edge of society, Jimmie Fails—a character played by the man who has lived this life and wrote the story down—dreams of reclaiming what was once his family’s birthright: a Victorian home in the Golden Gate area that his grandfather claims to have built with his own hands. It is now owned by a privileged middle aged white couple, yet when they enter into an inheritance dispute with relatives, an opportunity opens up for Jimmie and his best friend Montgomery (Jonathan Majors) to move in as squatters. This is a lyrical love letter to cities that no longer exist, and landscapes that once allowed dignity for those who toiled in them. Obviously it is Jimmie’s personal life story, but it is the insights of Montgomery, Emile Mosseri’s mournful score, and Adam Newport-Berra’s surreal camera setups that elevate Last Man’s song and verse into a celestial elegy. One which provides as much hope as it does despair.
2. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood
The arrival of a new Quentin Tarantino movie always comes with debate and some degree of controversy. But when the smoke clears, Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood will be remembered as one of his very best. A film that demands multiple viewings, Once Upon a Time is the rare major studio movie that requires you to meet it on its own terms, a sad fact Tarantino is aware of and deconstructs with a surprising degree of wistful melancholy. An obvious love letter to the long-gone Hollywood of the 1960s, which by ’69 saw the studio system in its death throes, the movie is also a commentary of our own cultural moment where auteurs pursuing massive original ideas, like Tarantino, and movie stars not defined by what cape they’ve worn on screen, like Leonardo DiCaprio and Brad Pitt, are almost a thing of the past. Tarantino’s elegiac meditation is as much about his and movie stars’ own setting sun as it is the Hollywood movies he grew up on, but it is also an unimaginably ambitious and celebratory film that dismisses plot and audience expectations that have been flattened by a decade of formula. Here is a film that revels in just chilling out with morally ambiguous characters while also offering a vessel that connects the past and present via giddy historical revisionist madness. Starring DiCaprio and Pitt as fading TV star Rick Dalton and his stuntman Cliff Booth, the film champions the intangible alchemy between charisma and cinema, providing both with their best material in years. Pitt may, in fact, have never been better than as the smiling cowboy whose high noon is with a counterculture that is burying his and Rick’s livelihoods. Their journeys, meanwhile, are paralleled by the rise of a new star named Sharon Tate (Margot Robbie) and the youthful change she represents. The importance of Sharon, and her subtly interconnected world, is determined by how much you know of her going in. For those who do, she is more than just the idol of her age; she is the soul of Tarantino’s sweetest movie, both in terms of its ‘60s setting and its desire to divorce a lifetime of light from the specter of Charles Manson’s half-century of darkness. Unlike Tarantino’s last three pictures, this isn’t about revenge; it’s a bedtime yarn dreaming of salvation for Hollywood, for culture, and for a legacy that can live on past 26 years.
1. Booksmart
Despite her celebrity, Olivia Wilde has always seemed a little underrated as an actor. That should change going forward as Wilde also announces herself as a major directorial talent with Booksmart. A pitch-perfect comedy that writes a teen anthem for the next generation, Booksmart proves that the cinematic R-rated comedy is not dead, and further it can only get better as it invites new diverse voices to reconfigure the form. Among those voices accompanying Wilde are screenwriters like Susanna Fogel and Katie Silberman, and a fresh-faced cast that is more than game to refocus the coming-of-age narrative on the type of nerdy young women who previously might’ve been lucky to be in the fuzzy background, if included at all. Kaitlyn Dever and Beanie Feldstein make a banquet out of protagonists Amy and Molly, two Type A’s who are Ivy League-bound and think the perfect night before graduation is watching Ken Burns documentaries. But upon realizing that all the supposed flakes they wrote off in their senior class are also headed toward bright futures after four years of partying, Molly will make up for missing out by dragging Amy on an odyssey toward the perfect Gen-Z high school party. So there you have it, the 10 best movies of the year so far. Agree? Disagree? Did we leave something off? Let us know in the comment section below! Sourcehttps://www.denofgeek.com/us/movies/282640/best-movies-2019 Read the full article
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ASOIAF AU Variation
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“But Father!” The shout was audible to even those outside of the dimly lit library, a regular sound throughout Lannisport as the years had drawn on. More so during the Winter than Summertime, but this season marked the beginning of the young lioness’ womanhood and with it the threat of betrothal, an idea knowingly abhorrent to the teen. “I don’t want to go-”
“This isn’t a matter up for discussion, Joanna!” Lord William Lannister replied with the same volume to his daughter, voice booming through the stacks of the library and sent the servants and stewards working within scurrying to avoid what was fast becoming a regular occurrence through the castle. “You’re going to the Red Keep to be a Lady in Waiting as your grandfather organised, and that is /final/..”
All the response, much the same as every other argument over the last fifteen years between the two, was a strangled noise and the slamming of the old oak doors as the blonde girl stormed out on her father, cursing the gods, their king, her grandfather and everyone in between. It was little surprise that those were the ones to face the girl’s wrath, the love between the two Lannister’s was known through all the houses of the seven kingdoms.
It was with a heavy sigh that the knight returned to his reading and preparations for his daughter’s travels to court; something that he had been dreading ever since she was born and that the pair avoided at all costs in the twelve years since his wife had been found lying in the frozen grass by the road halfway between Casterly Rock and her parent’s and twin at Highgarden shortly after the Ward’s of both regions had proclaimed war amongst themselves.
William knew the accusation and suspicion that fell upon himself at the time was false, despite having been travelling with her on horse back further ahead of the carriage, the love he held for his then wife and his child as well as his sworn promise to protect and care for the dark haired beauty from the neighbouring region and others as his knighthood required would have protected her from harm, but as tensions grew he’d agreed to remove himself and his daughter from Casterly Rock to Lannisport until the scandal faded from the courts memory.
Those who had known the knight before that Winter when Lady Evelynn had died, would have sworn to his good nature, humor and honor; unlike most of his house. His word was law to himself, guiding his actions with a sound conscience, and Ser William was well liked among the younger nobles of the Court of his day. After the scandalous death, however, only those who had truly known the knight and understood him would sully their reputation to know the disgraced and cowed young man or his daughter for years onwards.
It was only due to his father, Lord Anthony Lannister of Lannisport otherwise known as the Master of Whisperers, that he was to be separated from his daughter as it was. Unless he too rode to the Red Keep to reside and be near her. Some might have found the connection between father and daughter to be suspicious, questionable due to the nature of some Houses around the realm, but William had never been one to listen to gossip nor let his daughter go about unprotected. Which he had ensured would never be the case, even as he finished his letter to his father and to the Queen to send his little Joanna to court alone - with no one but her own hand servant and the dark, light blade he planned to give to her on her departure to protect herself.
—
Sunshine shone through the canopy of the castle gardens onto the small gaggle of young ladies as she passed by, the thin blue material of her dress grazing the paved pathway with all the elegance a Queen must possess. Eleanor Targaryen was no longer a queen though, despite her still high position in the castle as being the mother of the King allowed her. Her husband’s passing had been very quick, very unexpected, and as some would say, very suspicious.
This was not the first time that thought had crossed the Targaryen woman’s mind, often streaming through at the most inopportune times or late at night as she retired to her now lonesome bedchamber. King Visyak had been in high spirits and good health when he left on his hunting trip with their son and his trusted guards. And yet he’d returned a corpse, said to have set chase on a boar through the woods and fallen from his saddle with a mighty thump. How it could have happened-
Eleanor’s thoughts were interrupted as the young ladies, her daughter’s ladies in waiting, her friends and those she needed to behave as friend to, erupted into laughter. The dark haired princess, her spoilt little Shada, was at the centre of the group, hands thrown wide as she exclaimed over one boy or other getting another round of laughter.
How she’d ended up with the four children she had, Eleanor had no idea. All so different from one another, but so similar as well. They represented each facet of her late husband’s family and her own smaller branch to a tee,
Princess Shada, the only girl and third born of her babes, was the vivacious and beautiful one. Her dark hair the same as the purer Targaryen line their father came from, with dark eyes and warm cream skin that extenuated her fair features and the determined set of her jaw. While she was not sadistic or cruel like some of the house, the princess did have a wicked streak that would widen and twist under the guidance of one of her older brothers at times or shrink back around her other brother’s and few of her young lady friends. It distressed Eleanor to no end the number of offences against young noble men or other families, or even their servants, that Shada Targaryen would instigate at the same time as suggesting something to bring a little good to the realm.
The girl’s laughter continued to follow the ex-Queen as she moved along the path and under the lattice archway towards the end of the garden closest to her own rooms of the castle. Doorways in and out of the rooms to the outdoors had been a gift from her husband, after hours of argumentative bickering over her love of the outside when Summer would arrive.
And Summer had arrived, finally, after a longer Winter than expected. Though she had to thank her eldest son for the advance warning that they were to face a long night and to prepare the kingdom for it back when her husband still ruled. The Bastard King, as his brother and many of the kingdom had called him over the years, had been studying with the maesters for a few years by that time after rejecting the legitimacy that had been offered to him. Born out of wedlock, but with all well aware who the boy’s father was, the would-be Prince Jackson was born early and opted to denounce his claim to his father’s title and spend his days researching, learning and bettering himself for the good of other’s - rather than fight it out with his younger brother for supremacy Regardless how much better that may have been for the kingdom for him to rule with the kind heart and level head that many of the greatest Targaryen kings had possessed.
Eleanor had bemoaned every day that the Winter had lasted as long as it had and her and her husband’s deep desire for a Summer marriage to bring luck upon their rule. Had she prepared earlier, then she might have found her first born upon the throne rather than the second. Who could barely be controlled by any person or power at the court but a few.
King Jeffrey, otherwise known as King Gray after the cold gray color of his armour which would remain spotless and his sword which would be drenched in blood when he was met on the battlefield, ruled with an iron fist to match his iron throne. Few in the court could gain his attention for very long, and even fewer could keep it and attempt something good to come out of it. Even Princess Shada, who had spent hours and days and weeks infatuated with her brother (much like many generations of the pure Targaryen line), was unable to sway him for more than an hour or two from whatever blood thirsty idea had crossed his twisted mind. He was much like the kings those clever folk would fear, Eleanor had learnt, but his charm and smile could fool even the cleverest of souls eventually.
If only life had switched both boys roles, the old Queen probably would have felt better, or at least less suspicious, about her husbands passing. And yet life had spun the way it had - and though Gray was a twisted and sadistic king, he controlled those beneath him in a way only true fear could motivate others. A way even love couldn’t keep them in line. Much to Eleanor’s horror.
Her suite of rooms still housed her fourth and final child, the small boy with a similar light blue eyes as her oldest son and the dark hair all four children possessed, called Prince Ian. The chubby young boy was barely seven, and since his father’s passing had continued to refuse and fight the attempts of counsels, family and Eleanor herself to have him move to his own suite of rooms within the royal wing of the palace. The Capitol was certainly a place that she could understand not wanting to leave one’s safety place for - often dreading stepping through her own bedroom door in a morning to face the day.
And yet, as the slightly greying, light haired woman moved into her rooms and sank into the lusciously fabric’d arm chair before her late-husband’s desk, she found herself considering just what move of those the small counsel and herself had been discussing would bring the most prosperity to the realm. Just how to get the king to agree as well, escaping her too.
—
“I like what you’ve done with your hair, Deja. Trying something from the Capital?”
The soft growl of a voice from behind her startles the young woman, hands flying to her hair as if expecting something other than the simple plaits holding the rest of her hair back in the style that her cousins from Casterly Rock did. Joanna barely flinches at the wrong name though - the light pink and silvers of her clothes were chosen just for that mistake to happen, rather than her typical reds, tans and gold’s.
“I heard that my cousin will be headed to Kings Landing shortly to wait on Princess Shada - I thought I’d get a head start on the next trend.” It takes a moment for her to mimic her cousin’s voice and mannerisms, the haughty tone tasting bad on her tongue as she turns to look at the stranger who approached her. Obviously he knew her cousin, was possibly even friends with her which worries Jo a little since she’s never seen Deja interact with someone she actually likes. “Before it becomes as out-dated as it always has been.”
The almost impossibly tall, smiling man in front of her catches her off guard when she sees him, having expected someone as intimidating as the eldest (and only) Clegane son from when she met him at his sister’s funeral as a child or as overbearingly attentive as the Stark brothers who were even taller than her father now they’d grown. A friendly smile was not something she ever expected to see when pretending to be her cousin, but that could just be her view of the other girl.
As he reaches out towards her, Joanna has to fight down the desire to turn around and run away - blinking owlishly at him in confusion until he tugs gently at her hair. “And would the colour also be a part of your trying to mock your cousin? Not sure it suits you, milady.” The blond’s smile widens a little more, twisting into a smirk as he tugs her hair again and her mouth drops in outrage.
Slapping his hand away, Jo flips her hair back over her shoulder and snubs her nose at him trying to act like Deja and not to the sharp offense that brings up. “I’m doing no such thing! She may feel a might foolish standing out from the rest of the crowd now there are no fair-haired Targaryen’s staying in the capital and her cousins have returned to Casterly Rock after the King took offence to them.” Huffing and fighting down the blush wanting to spread across her face, she waves a hand at the stranger as though to admonish him before turning on her heel. “To think you think such a mean spirited thing of me, why I never.”
Keeping up the overly pleasant and girlish behaviour that Deja had shown an overabundance of the last time she saw her several years back, the blonde found herself wanting to get as far away from the tall man and as quickly through the castle as she could get.
Hearing his footsteps coming after her, the Lannister girl finds herself cursing under her breath - words she’d never heard another Lady say but her father and his drunken port friends cajoling and shouting amongst each other around her ever since she was a young child - before trying to duck down a corridor only to be cut off again by a long arm and the man clearing his throat.
“Oh I know you’re not that mean spirited - Deja however, would be.” Jo stops struggling from trying to push past him as he speaks and there is the sound of movement down the path they just turned off of. Glancing up, she has to try and stop herself from shouting for help as the stranger leans in closer and whispers into her ear just how badly she did in trying to get past Riverrun in disguise. “And she would have said some of those very unpretty words while chasing me off the moment she saw me, Lady Joanna.”
“You knew before that though..” She swallows down the lump in her throat as she thinks about it, frowning up at the man as he gives a small nod of acknowledgement. It’s not until two servant girls bustle by down the main passage that Jo continues speaking. “Why didn’t you stop me and take me to my aunt then, Lord.. Uh.”
The blond man shakes his head, leaning back and giving her space to breathe. “I’m no lord, milady.” As she raises a brow at him, unconvinced and sure she was about to be dragged before her aunt and the Lord of Riverrun. Exactly what her entire masquerading as her cousin was in an attempt to avoid. “Ser William Baelish, at your service.”
The words did nothing to soothe her, pale eyebrow rising higher for a moment before furrowing as Joanna stares him down despite their height and status differences. “And at the Lord’s service as well, I’m sure.” Snapping back, she crosses her arms while glancing around as though to take in the area around her for any potential means of escape or overpowering the stronger man. “Well that’s all well and good, but there’s no way I’m being dragged before that bitch and her master, so if you’ll excuse me.”
Moving to shove past him, the large hand gripping her upper arm tightly pauses her just out of grasp of the large ornate vase Jo had spotted even as her other arm reaches for it. “Wait-” His hand tightens further as she tries to pull free or grab the vase, fully intending to smash it against his skull and make a run for it all over again. “Stop struggling, damn you!” William is cut off as her hand changes course, palm slapping soundly across his cheek as she pulls back as though to punch out after. “Mother help you, I’m not going to hurt you, you harpy, if you’d just let me.”
“Oh look at the knight, all chivalrous and kind, how /knightly/ of you. I don’t need your petty promises from the likes of you.” Hissing the words out, the lady goes to strike him again - though his other hand rises to catch her wrist before she can get there. “Let go of me or I’ll scream.”
There’s a second as they both stare at one another as the ridiculousness of her threat sinks in. Jo gives a deep sigh before tugging at her arm with a scowl. “Just let me go, my father thinks I’m headed to Kings Landing from here-”
“But that’s not where you do want to go, considering this get up.” Releasing her, William draws himself up to his full height as though considering the shorter woman. After a short moment, it seems like he comes to a conclusion about her and Jo tenses to prepare herself for whatever conclusion it may be. “Exactly where are you planning to run off to with your tail between your skirts, little lioness? Your grandmother and grandfather in Highgarden perchance.”
“I wouldn’t go near that insane hermit if I had to - I’m going to go North.”
She wasn’t expecting the laughter that her words brought up, and slapping out her hand towards his unprotected cheek yet again as he does not stop and the sounds of servants reach her ears from down the mazes of corridors around them. “I’m going North, I’m going to wait until my grandfather is over his fucking insanity and then I’m going home. Good day, Ser William. I hope the next time I see you, you’ve been cut back down to a normal size.”
It wasn’t like she was expecting to be able to just waltz away, but she definitely wasn’t expecting to be swept upwards over the knight’s shoulder before she even got to the corner to the main passageway.
—
The Lord and Lady Tully were walking around the gardens within the castle walls when they first heard the shouts and screams. If Ellen had not been warned in advance by the whispers of their servants that the visiting hedge knight from the Fingers was heading their way with her niece the noise and curses being screamed at full volume would have worried her. As it is, a weary sigh escapes her lips as her husband’s hand finds hers and they continue their walk around the shell of the new sandstone sunroom that was being built. Robert was a good husband to her, and cared deeply for their daughter Deja - building the room as a surprise present for when she returned from Kings Landing.
“You no good, honourless mercenary asshole! When I get free, you will rue the day you did this until your dying moment - /which is nigh!/”
The shrieks were getting closer, and the older woman barely concealed an eye roll at the choice of words before giving her husband a sharp look at the shudder of laughter she could see shaking his shoulders. “Do /not/ encourage her, Bobby. Her father sent a raven about making sure she actually went to Kings Landing rather than running off to Rufus Greyjoy’s or to turn back around and run away with Gordon Clegane /again/.”
“And we will make sure she gets to Kings Landing safely, dear, that doesn’t mean the antics aren’t amusing.” Robert Tully glances back across at her, hand squeezing hers gently for a moment before guiding her along the path towards the closest sandstone bench to sit on and wait for the young Lannister. “Ser William and the Rosby acolyte are both heading that way to see the King, I’m sure that they may be able to keep her…in hand.”
Ellen doesn’t understand the joke of his words for a few seconds until she turns to see the knight in question and her niece coming down the path. The young blonde woman bouncing with each step the knight makes from over his shoulder, feet striking out. It takes all of her composure and control to refrain from batting his shoulder as the Tully pair wait for the others to arrive. The moment the knight sets the younger woman down, he gets a fist forcefully punched into his stomach which makes Ellen grind her teeth to see.
When it looks like there’s about to be another fist thrown, the older woman gives a sharp cough - something which would had stilled her sweet daughter had she been there - and waits for Joanna to turn about as well. Instead there is another punch towards the knight, large hands engulfing the smaller ones before they can hit. Coughing again, Ellen frowns at the Lannister girl as she finally turns around and seems to shrink back from herself and her husband beside her.
“Thank you, ser, for finding Joanna for us. We were very concerned when we did not see her /despite/ her father’s raven saying she would be visiting on her way past.” The amusement was far too obvious in Robert’s tone in her opinion, getting him another sharp glance before Ellen turned her attention back to the grumpy girl at the same time her husband did. “Why you have changed since the last time we saw you, Joanna. I’d swear you’re the splitting image of Deja in that dress - aside from the hair, of course.”
“Well that was kind of the whole point.” Joanna snaps back, the mulish set of her chin making Ellen wish that the girl’s father had actually learnt to say no to his child like herself and Bobby had with Deja. While they may dote on their daughter, Ellen was certain from Jo’s actions and the whispers she’d heard about her from family and friends that William Lannister had spoilt the girl rotten and let her run wild. As the blonde elbowed the knight beside her sharply in the ribs at his eye roll, she was even surer of it. “You know, get in, find someone heading away from that forsaken cesspit that’s so very fitting of our /lovely/ King, and hitch a ride with them until Grandfather forgets I was supposed to be there.”
“Watch your tongue, young lady, especially to where you /are/ headed. The new King is not nearly as forgiving as his father was.” Ellen’s tone slips into the lecturing tone she hadn’t needed to use for her own daughter in several years since Deja threw her shoe at her handmaiden at thirteen in a fit over a dress. As Joanna opens her mouth as though to continue arguing, the older woman glances at the man beside her and nods her head at the rather awkward looking knight standing a few steps away from the rest.
Both Tully’s look over the man for a moment, as the young noble woman starts smart mouthing back. Robert gives a small head jerk in return before addressing William, speaking loudly over Jo’s continuing arguments. “Ser William, I heard you were being paid to accompany Acolyte Rosby back to the Citadel now he has studied our warring plans and strategies.”
“Uh, yes Lord Tully. We are headed back to the Citadel through Kings Landing and Highgarden the day after tomorrow once the final recordings are done.” The tall knight looks a little surprised at being addressed, eyes dancing between both Robert and Ellen’s faces to try and gather what the train of thought would be. He was careful to avoid looking at the small woman beside him, which amuses the elder one. “Harry’s friend requested that we stop by and speak with his brother and sister on his behalf regarding some personal matters with the family.”
Joanna was frowning as Ellen’s face broke out into a smile, sharing a look with her husband. Standing and moving towards her niece, the older woman glances over her shoulder at Bobby as she threads her arm through the other woman’s arm. “I think, William, that you and my lord should talk about your travel plans while I accompany my niece inside to get her sorted for her trip on to Kings Landing.”
It’s not until the pair are walking away through the garden towards the closest wing that Jo actually speaks up again, jerking her arm from her aunt’s hand. “I’m not going to court, Aunt, I’m not suited to be there.”
“That’s more than abundantly clear, but you can’t just run away into the wilderness every time you don’t like what you’re required to do.” Ellen sighs quietly as she comes to a stop beside the younger woman, brows furrowed as she considers the defiant look on the other’s face. She was nothing like her own daughter, and unlike Deja who was thriving in the cut-throat court from the strange mix of sweetness and ruthlessness she had - the chances of Joanna sinking like a rock were undeniable. “Lord Anthony will not take no for an answer the next time if you flee /again/, and even my and /your mother’s/ father is pressuring your father now.”
The Lannister seemingly kicks her heels from the rustling of skirts and stones, the harsh growl at Ellen’s words did not suggest she may actually listen. Catching Jo’s arm again, the elder begins to walk the both of them forwards towards the closest castle door, looking about cautiously before speaking even quieter. “Court is not like it has been in seasons and your father will want you home soon if you don’t try to run again.” Pausing at the doorway, even as the blonde continues to look grumpy and upset about it, she considers for a second to just let her go and send a letter back to her father that she hadn’t seen the girl until the idea of abandoning her sister’s daughter gnawed at her heart. Sighing, Ellen holds onto the other’s elbows, looking at her carefully. “So, am I writing to your father about your going onto Kings Landing, or am I writing to him to have him come and /escort/ you there?”
—
“So, tell me again what made you agree to take on protecting a runaway Lannister?” Huffing, he hisses the words to the knight riding beside him so that the woman in question couldn’t hear. As they’d had gotten through the outer gates of Riverrun Castle that very morning Joanna had claimed the spot at the front of the small party, almost clipping the acolyte with her riding crop as she pushed her way past him without even a wave of acknowledgement let alone the demure, teary apologies that he had seen ladies at court bestow whenever they were seen doing something unladylike.
Watching the blonde ahead, bouncing happily in her saddle without complaints despite their having been continuously on the road for several house, Harry Rosby couldn’t help but think having her along was asking for trouble. “All I’ve ever heard was bad things about the Lannisters, William - that you cannot trust them not to throw you for the right price.”
“She’s just a /girl/, Harry, she’s not evil or wicked.” Harry doesn’t like the laugh his friend gives as they exchange looks, him giving a withering look at the blond’s barely concealed smirk. “And even if she were, trust me when I say I can handle any trouble, or fists, she might throw at us.”
The acolyte isn’t sure what to make of the cocky tone or amused looks on the other’s face - the hedge knight typically more soft spoken and humble about his skills and abilities. Shrugging it off, the shorter man slows his horse to a trot alongside his friend to give a little more space between them and their new charge to talk. “What if you couldn’t though? My friend-”
“The Targaryen bastard?”
“My /friend/ thinks her family are dangerous. And that you were asked to.. chaperone her trip into the city because of her last guards going missing doesn’t really help in her case.” Harry gives William a glare at his interruption, half wishing the other could take him seriously for once. Coughing, the still brisk air from the morning getting to his weaker lungs, the acolyte turns his eyes to focus on the woman and her horse prancing ahead of them, unsure about their charge.
“Isn’t your friend a Targaryen? You /do/ know that the, uh, madness runs in that family, right?” William’s eyes were fixated on the woman in front of them, either keeping check that the infamous runner wasn’t planning a break for it or something else - Harry wasn’t sure. But his dismissal of Harry’s friend made the shorter man hiss a breath out through his teeth, more like a whistle than a sigh, causing all three horses to pull up and flick their ears towards him. “Pretty sure she is nothing but a bratty Lady-to-be who has yet to hear the word ‘no’ from a man.”
“Suppose you’ll be the one to do it, Ser Nobody of Nowhere.” The voice surprises him as the blonde calls back to them, glancing over her shoulder at the pair of them. After the last two tense dinners at the sandstone castle where she didn’t speak a word to anyone and left after poking her food around her plate, Harry almost thought she had no voice. “That is, if you’re able to keep up with a bratty Lady-to-be.” Her eyes meet his for a second as her words sink in before she’s gone - kicking her heels into her palomino to sprint along and down the road away from them.
“The Seven curse her!” The growl comes from the knight beside him and then William is urging his stallion after the blonde horse and rider, hoping to catch her before she can reach the crossroads just in the distance and leaving the acolyte trailing along after.
Giving a quiet sigh as he watches the pair galloping away down the path, Harry continues on at the slower pace and wishes he had some calmer travelling companions, wishing his fellow acolyte was with him. Of course that wasn’t possible with the tensions around the new king coming to power and with the well known hated between both brothers, but Harry couldn’t help but think it would have been beneficial for their research as well as the pleasant company on the roads back.
He wasn’t sure what the other was going to think of what he was bringing back with him, considering the results of their research to be completely fruitless himself. Harry was sick of racing across the country at the first whisper of someone with control over the world around them or the dead reappearing amongst the living - only for the tales to be little more than false reports or lies. But his colleague saw something that he could not understand, a pattern and a wisdom that Harry could not read behind them until the soft spoken Targaryen would lay it out for him, and that kept them both going in their studies for their Valyrian steel link.
Looking up from the path before him, Harry frowns spotting the two figures tugging and pulling at one another in the midst of the road as he drew closer and closer to where they were paused and arguing. Letting out another sigh, the acolyte joins the pair just as a small tanned hand raises up as though to swing out at the other.
“My father always approved of striking a woman who was out of place, Lady Joanna,” The coolness in William’s tone as Harry arrives beside him and glances between the heated glares each were giving each other chills him before the knight continues, his hands wrapped tightly around the reins of the runaway, “And he would show such approval to my mother frequently. I strive not to repeat his mistakes, and you have been allowed to lash out several times, but do not force my hand back.”
The girl swallows thickly, hand still lifted as though she were about to hit out at him as they fight it out through looks alone - until finally she pulls away with a snarl. Harry wasn’t aware he was holding his breath and cautiously moves between the pair without looking towards the seething hedge knight. “Now I think we have had just about enough adventure thus far, milady and ser. The sooner we arrive in Kings Landing, the sooner all three of us can part our separate ways, correct?”
William continues to glare towards her though, his stallion pawing aggressively at the ground as he drops his grasp on the reins and waves a hand with a flourish at both of the other travellers. “Ladies first.”
Ignoring the biting tone seemingly was harder for Joanna than it was for him, as both lady and acolyte turn their horses back along the path and set off at a steady pace abreast the road. Glancing behind them, Harry notices the hedge knight rubbing at his face for a moment before he turns his attention back to the woman beside who was staring ahead with gritted teeth.
Coughing to clear his throat, though it turns into a real cough after a second, the dark haired man looks behind him again to see the knight trailing after them with the same stubborn set to his face as Joanna’s. Looking back front ways, Harry once again wishes that his friend was along on the trip as well because at least he would have known how to stop the fighting before the entire trip became an awkward three day journey on the first day.
—
Watching lips pleading and gasping for air, his mouth curls upwards into a perverse grin as his hand tightens across the young woman’s throat. There’s a flicker in her blue eyes as she stares up at him, fighting between her training and her need to survive, before the girl lashes out at his arm to scratch him with her nails. He snarls back at her, closing his fingers around her neck and jerking her head around with his other until he hears a snap.
Letting go of the woman, her lifeless body sagging to the floor, the dark haired man reaches down to wipe the flecks of blood off of his hands on the flimsy fabric left on her body. “Tut tut, little whore, you were so close to getting out alive.” Gray shakes his head, stepping over the bloody corpse and moves towards his wash room. The full court was supposed to be meeting to greet several new arrivals shortly, but the constant pleasantries to come had made his fun last a little longer than usual in preparation for it.
As he rinses off his hands and arms, King Jeffrey “Gray” Targaryen turns his head to the side and smiles at the smear of red down that one of the girls’ bloody hands had left. He can hear that girl - too young and homely looking just now for him to want to play his usual games with - whimpering in the corner away from the other whores’ bodies. “Did you enjoy the show, sweetheart, or maybe you enjoyed participating more.” Catching a glimpse of the girl in the shining mirrored surface before him, the king smirks noticing the shivers of terror his words brought out.
Laughing to himself, Jeffrey ignores the knocking on his chamber door as he pulls on a clean dark red tunic and moves past the two whores still bleeding and breathing heavily on the floor to the silently sobbing girl. She probably wasn’t even fourteen, and stroking her cheek gently despite her shaking, the king grins down at her almost kindly. “Shh, little one, nothing bad is going to happen to you just yet. And by then you may just know how to avoid ending up like… what was the redhead’s name again?” When it looks like the girl was about to stammer out a name, he is already standing up, dropping his hand and tugging his sleeves down. “Oh right, ‘a whore’.”
Retrieving his fitted leather jerkin and heading out of his chambers, past the kingsguard looking slightly ill and to the louder and louder crying as he moves along the corridor towards the main court, the king smirks all the wider. The day was at least starting off well for him - though as he drew closer to the Great Hall, his face falls as the servants and guards around do not divert their gaze as often as they do closer to his rooms. Seemingly the safety of new arrivals was enough to dispel the fear the screams of both pleasure and pain that came from his bedroom. He would fix that.
“Brother dearest, where have you been hiding this morning? I missed you at breakfast.” Hearing his sister’s voice makes him sigh deeply, smile dropping completely from his face as he glances down at her as he finishes buckling his leather jacket together. The princess was smiling back at him though, with the same wide eyed happiness that she got whenever something excited her ever since they were children. “I was hoping that we could talk about my new presents coming.”
“Presents?” Jeffrey’s disinterest is obvious as the pair continue towards the Small Council chambers, the sounds of the court moving within the Great Hall slowly increasing the closer they got. “What presents are you supposed to be getting?”
Princess Shada grins up at him, moving to thread her arm through his - barely slipping her hand through before he’s jerking his arm away from her. She pouts, like she always did, and gives a quiet huff. “Lord Lannister is sending me a new lady in waiting. A bit overdue if you ask me, I added the cousin Tully girl to my collection years ago. If I recall correctly, brother, you got bored of her within a month.”
It takes a moment for him to put a face to the name as they reach the antechamber of sorts to the Hall, glancing towards the closed entrance before reclining back into the nearest armchair rather than deal with the madness of court just yet. The dark hair and eyes of the Tully girl, wavy strands of hair that would get matted at the slightest tug and her crying from even a single spank. “Not hard to get bored with someone so…”
“Gentile?” The brunette smirks a little back at him, sinking down to sit on the arm rest beside him, small hands picking up his and resting it within her lap. “You know, I haven’t had a new lady in a long while - so many of their father’s were scared before our father died and now you’re terrifying them all away even more!”
“This one must be exceptionally dull if the Lannister’s aren’t afraid to lose her.” He grunts the words out, tilting his head back a little to take in his sister. Twisting his hand over, he traces the pattern of intricate flowers along her skirt before trailing up her thigh with a smirk. “I’ll let you have her back as soon as her crying bores me.”
Shada stares down at his hand for a moment, whatever she was thinking cleverly hidden, before moving to stand up a few steps away from him after his hand trails higher up her thigh. Glaring down at him, the dark haired girl sniffs. “I think that may be much longer than I’d like to wait for her - she is supposed to be the one waiting on me, not the other way around. And that isn’t the only present coming from what I hear.”
The king frowns at her, standing sharply as the younger woman steps backwards further. Moving closer, backing towards the closest wall and smirking cruelly as he leans into the smaller one, Jeffrey reaches out to stroke a lock of dark hair as he speaks softly, “Little sister, what exactly is your other present then - since you will not share your first one with your /dear/ brother?”
“News from my /other/ dear brother, actually.” Shada’s smile drops completely, avoiding his eye as she speaks; and Jeffrey tightens his grip and tugs on the strands of hair in his grasp as she does so in anger. “Mother says that a raven arrived, and there’s supposed to be an acolyte coming today to reply back with.”
Gritting his teeth and releasing Shada, the king shoves back away from her and tugs his sleeves back fully into place before moving away towards the door into the Great Hall. “Well now, isn’t that going to be exciting for us all.”
—
“My grace, presenting to you Lady Joanna of Lannisport, Acolyte Harry Rosby from the Citadel, and Ser William Baelish.”
Jo’s nose wrinkles as she hears the announcement, shifting a few steps backwards from the large doors until the press of a large hand against her back stills her. Swallowing, she doesn’t need to look behind her to know it was the knight’s hand stopping her from running away yet again. It had taken three extra days for the small group to make it to Kings Landing, and she wasn’t even a little ashamed of being responsible for every single one of them.
The doors open before them, and it is only the taller man’s grip on the back of her rich red and gold chiffon dress that also pushes her forward along the path towards the royals, past the other members of court lounging and standing about. Her eyes fixate on the dark throne and its inhabitant as she focuses on breathing evenly and slowing the meeting down as much as she could possibly get away with even at this last time.
“I swear I will carry you the rest of the way /again/ if you don’t pick up your feet, milady.” The quiet growl into her ear makes her tense up further, heels digging into the stone flooring as best as they can while the acolyte looks across at her with a confused frown. Neither man seemed to understand her reluctance to join the court, and Jo silently wishes she could be as ignorant as the pair of them.
Stumbling slightly forward when William pushes at her to keep them moving, the blonde doesn’t show outwardly for one moment the fumble for her footing, though her stare at the king she’d never met breaks with her stumble. Glancing around the crowds, Joanna spots her cousin - looking so similar to herself in facial looks - near the dais and sneering at her from behind the princess’ shoulder. There was a man who looked like her grandfather towards the front on the west side of the hall, eyebrows furrowed and focused onto the three of them before glancing towards the throne and back again.
Joanna scowls back at him at the recognition and look of disapproval, barely controlling herself from storming away in a huff of anger and flowing material the way she would whenever her father and she got into a fight.
“A lady, a knight and an acolyte walk into a hall. Sounds like the start of a joke, doesn’t it.” The warmth in the king’s voice surprises her, eyes drawn back to the tall, dark haired man reclining in the cold Iron Throne when they finally reach the edge of the dais. Jo tilts her head, curiosity creeping in and getting the better of her as she stares back at him, not breaking eye contact even as she bobs a curtsy alongside the other two’s bows.
There’s a raucous laughter through the hall which catches her companion’s attention as the pair of them glance around at the laughing court, but she doesn’t stop looking back at the smirking man before her. She almost feels a little bad for him that such large reactions would come for him, not out of love but out of fear; shoulders relaxing as she takes a step away from the knight behind her as his hand had dropped.
“Not a very good one though.” Joanna’s not aware she was speaking until the silence falls through the hall again, biting tightly on her lip when she realises until catching the horrified and angry look upon her grandfather’s face. She doesn’t look back at the king, eyes focusing upon the man who forced her there away from her home as she adds sharply, “More than a little predictable an outcome really. The acolyte returns to the Citadel, the knight to his adventures.. and the lady throws herself off of the walls into the ocean to escape whatever awaits her.”
Fisting her hands within the folds of her skirts as she speaks, the blonde’s head jerks back around to look at the king at the sound of boots on stone and footfalls coming closer to her; blinking in surprise as he appears right before her, almost looming over her. Although there was the weedy acolyte to her left and the gigantic blond knight behind her, and hundreds of other nobility around the hall, Jo never felt more alone and defenceless as she was right at that moment staring back at him boldly.
She swallows again, gritting her teeth as the king moves closer, observing her in a way that makes Joanna almost feel like she were a cow in the paddocks of a butchers considering her slaughter or a man with a pocket full of gold in a whorehouse. “That sounds like my kind of joke, Lady Joanna. And I do so look forward to watching the outcome of your time here at court with my sister come to fruition.” The blonde shudders when he leans in closer to her, lips brushing the outer shell of her ear as he speaks in a deep, dark whisper promising more than just the words, though whether out of fear or something worse she’s not entirely sure. “So, do you promise to deliver the punch line correctly, little lioness?“
—
“Not like /that/, you idiot!” The shriek came loudly, followed by the metal brush being pulled from the princess’ hair by her hand and smacked against the other woman’s hand with a loud whack. “Did your mother not teach you anything in that plush castle of yours? All that gold seep up and rot your brain?”
Another sharp whack hit across the newest lady-in-waiting’s knuckles as the dark haired princess jerked out of her chair - a lucky thing too as the blonde’s fingers twitched out and reach as though to jerk her hair in response to the hits. One second more and the Master of Coin’s granddaughter would have found herself before the court.
Shada Targaryen didn’t notice though, feet firmly set on her path towards her bed as she flopped forwards onto the downy covers. This girl was hopeless, she didn’t understand at all why her mother sent this incompetent moron to join her ladies in waiting, nor why her brother kept asking if she was sick of her yet so he could play with the dumb blonde. As if Shada would ever admit to him that was the truth, he always took her playthings, and even if this one was a complete idiot, Shada wasn’t going to forego another of her things for him without a fight.
Even though the princess didn’t notice, the other dark haired girl in the room did. Moving across the room to grab her cousin’s hands and give her a sharp glare, Deja Tully laughed at her friend’s comments. “Oh Shada, you are a riot! My poor cousin only grew up with her brutish father, guess she never learnt anything about the finer things in life.”
“Is that true?” The princess jerks up, staring at the two cousins who looked so similar looking back at her. Her new girl, blonder than anyone in the court baring Shada’s own fair-haired cousins who were still at the breast, looked surprisingly upset for some reason, eyes glistening with unshed tears and a dark look almost like hatred directed at both of them. “Is that why your hair is always in such a bland design, and you always have those breeches on beneath your skirts? What happened to your mother, who was there to teach you about anything important if she wasn’t around? Your maester or ladies maids?”
Shada’s head tilted curiously, crawling back across her massive bed towards the other two, patting the covers to encourage them both across. She had always desired female friends growing up, and not just female servants or courtiers. Being a princess, everyone always was happy and eager to be seen as friendly with her; but the older she got the clearer it became that those her parents surrounded her with never had their smiles reach their eyes. Since then, she’s searched to have true friends in her life.
When Deja Tully was sent to the court and was able to avoid her brother’s interest so quickly, the dark haired girl had quickly become the only person the princess was truly open around. Her brown eyes were always full of life when she smiled, and was quick to share a joke with Shada through a quirk of an eyebrow or lips. It was as if her parent’s had truly gifted her when the girl’s cousin was due to be sent, but how wrong Shada thought they were.
A shove of a sharp elbow made the blonde girl move, glaring at her cousin as they both sat to either side of the dark haired princess, hands white knuckled in her lap. “No. My father was the one who taught me everything, he wasn’t away from Lannisport often at all after… After my mother passed.” Shada heard the girl swallow before adding quietly, “I didn’t need any ladies maids. You need to be a fu- damn lady to have a ladies maid.”
Shada and DJ giggled together at the almost sailors words, not often used within the Red Keep aside from the drunkard or men at arms. To hear it from a lord’s daughter gave her a thrill, that perhaps her new lady-in-waiting could be a fun plaything if not a friend like her cousin.
“Her mother got killed on her way back home to our grandparent’s in Highgarden back when the Lannister’s got too big for the boots!” Deja whispered conspiratorially in Shada’s ear, sharing a glance at the other girl looking sullen and sulky. “Her father is /the/ Lord William Lannister. You know the one who…”
The princess hid a gasp behind a hand, trying not to laugh before turning to the other girl with all the grace her mother had taught her. Resting her hand down on the other girl’s hands, Shada said as regally as she could muster, “Oh don’t you worry about any court gossip or questions any further, Joanna dear, you’re my lady-in-waiting now and your cousin is the best I have ever had. We shan’t let anyone speak any further about the disgrace your father has experienced.” Sharing a glance with Deja, the sweetness in Shada’s voice hid the conspiratorial look they shared. “Run along to your rooms and don’t worry about this evening. Your dear cousin will show you the ropes one day of how to dress and style yourself for court more appropriately.”
Watching the steely look on the blonde’s face as she got up and left, if it weren’t for the fact Princess Shada had dismissed her it would have almost have felt like the girl had stormed out of the royal chamber.
As soon as the door clicked shut after the curious look in from the guard outside, Shada and Deja collapsed together into laughter upon the bed at the crudeness and boyishness of the other. Fingers curled together lightly, both girls lay back beneath the canopy to giggle and gossip the night away.
—
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2018 according to mixtake
A 11ª edição da coletânea do ano tem 120 faixas em 8 horas e 7 minutos de música! Espero que tu te divirta tanto com ela quanto eu me diverti fazendo. lml No fim do post tem os links para download, stream no Spotify e pras edições dos anos passados.
Artist : Song : Album
Albert Hammond Jr. : Set to Attack : Francis Trouble Alvvays : Echolalia : Pecking Order (Single) Arctic Monkeys : One Point Perspective : Tranquility Base Hotel +Casino Art Brut : Veronica Falls : Wham! Bang! Pow! Let's Rock Out! Ash : All That I Have Left : Islands Baxter Dury, Delilah Holliday, Etienne de Crécy : Only My Honesty Matters : B.E.D Beach House : Girl of the Year : 7 Beach Skulls : Come Undone : Las Dunas Belle & Sebastian : Everything Is Now (Part Two) : How To Solve Our Human Problems Belly : Girl : Dove Bixiga 70 : Quebra Cabeça : Quebra Cabeça Black Rebel Motorcycle Club : Echo : Wrong Creatures The Breeders : All Nerve : All Nerve The Brian Jonestown Massacre : Animal Wisdom : Something Else Brownout : I Don't Wanna Be Called Yo Ni**A : Fear of a Brown Planet Car Seat Headrest : Sober To Death : Twin Fantasy Cat Power : Stay : Wanderer Ceremony : Closer : East Coast The Charlatans : Totally Eclipsing : Totally Eclipsing EP Connan Mockasin : Charlotte's Thong : Jassbusters The Coral : Reaching Out for a Friend : Move Through the Dawn Courtney Barnett : Need A Little Time : Tell Me How You Really Feel The Cure : Shake Dog Shake (New Blood Mix 2018) : Mixed Up (Deluxe Edition) David Duchovny : Half Life : Every Third Thought Dean Wareham & Cheval Sombre : Greensboro Woman : Dean Wareham vs. Cheval Sombre Death Valley Girls : Disaster (Is What We're After) : Darkness Rains The Decemberists : Sucker’s Prayer : I'll Be Your Girl The Decemberists : Traveling On : Traveling On Devon Church : Curses : We Are Inextricable Dorias Baracca : Dean & Dane : Dorias Baracca E A Terra Nunca Me Pareceu Tão Distante : Daiane : Fundação Echo And The Bunnymen : How Far? : The Stars, The Oceans & The Moon Echo Ladies : Apart : Pink Noise Eels : Be Hurt : The Deconstruction Eleanor Friedberger : In Between Stars : Rebound Elli de Mon : Grinnin' In Your Face : Songs Of Mercy Elvis Costello & The Imposters : Dishonor the Stars : Look Now The Essex Green : January Says : Hardly Electronic Firefriend : Afterhours : Sulfur Gaz Coombes : Wounded Egos : World's Strongest Man The Good, The Bad & The Queen : Ribbons : Merrie Land Gorillaz : Magic City : The Now Now Gruff Rhys : Negative Vibes : Babelsberg Guided By Voices : Space Gun : Space Gun Interpol : Flight of Fancy : Marauder J Mascis : See You At The Movies : Elastic Days Jack White : Corporation : Boarding House Reach James : Coming Home (Pt.2) : Living In Extraordinary Times Jeff Tweedy : I Know What It's Like : Warm Jim James : Throwback : Uniform Distortion Jimi Hendrix : Mannish Boy : Both Sides of the Sky Johnny Marr : Rise : Call the Comet King Tuff : The Other : The Other Kristin Hersh : Breathe In : Possible Dust Clouds Kurt Vile : Rollin with the Flow : Bottle It In The KVB : Violet Noon : Only Now Forever L.A. Witch : Sleep : Octubre EP Laura Marling & Mike Lindsay : Rolling Thunder : LUMP The Love-Birds : Gerrit : In the Lover's Corner Luna & Cheval Sombre : Lonesome Cowboy Bill : Lonesome Cowboy Bill M. Ward : Shark : What a Wonderful Industry Malcolm Middleton : Love Is a Momentary Lapse in Self-Loathing : Bananas Manic Street Preachers : People Give In : Resistance Is Futile Marianne Faithfull : No Moon in Paris : Negative Capability Mark Kozelek : Sublime : Mark Kozelek Mark Lanegan And Duke Garwood : Cold Molly : Mescalito Mazzy Star : Quiet, The Winter Harbor : Still EP Melody's Echo Chamber : Breathe in, Breathe Out : Bon Voyage MGMT : Me and Michael : Little Dark Age Miles Kane/Jamie T : Killing The Joke : Coup De Grace Mitski : A Pearl : Be The Cowboy Morcheeba : Sweet L.A. : Blaze Away The National : Guest Room : Boxer: Live in Brussels The National Reserve : Big Bright Light : Motel La Grange Neil Young : The Losing End : Songs for Judy Neil Young + Promise of the Real : Peace Trail : Paradox (Original Music from the Film) Okkervil River : Famous Tracheotomies : In the Rainbow Rain Ovlov : Baby Alligator : Tru Papercuts : Sing to Me Candy : Parallel Universe Blues Parquet Courts : Freebird II : Wide Awaaaaake! Paul McCartney : People Want Peace : Egypt Station Paul Weller : Gravity : True Meanings Peter Bjorn and John : One for the Team : Darker Days Phosphorescent : C'est La Vie No.2 : C'est La Vie A Place to Bury Strangers : Was It Electric : Pinned (Brainwashing Machine Edition) The Prodigy : Light Up The Sky : No Tourists Richard Ashcroft : That's How Strong : Natural Rebel Rogerio Skylab : O Eco da Queda : O Rei do Cu Say Sue Me : Dreaming : It's Just a Short Walk! EP Say Sue Me : Let It Begin : Where We Were Together The Sea and Cake : Any Day : Any Day The Shins : So Now What (Flipped) : The Worms Heart The Sidekicks : Serpent in a Sun Drought : Happiness Hours Simon Love : I Fucking Love You : Sincerely, S. Love X The Smashing Pumpkins : Silvery Sometimes (Ghosts) : Shiny and Oh So Bright, vol. 1 LP: No Past. No Future. No Sun. Spiritualized : Damaged : And Nothing Hurt Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks : Middle America : Sparkle Hard Suede : Life Is Golden : The Blue Hour Sun Kil Moon : David Cassidy : This Is My Dinner Superchunk : Black Thread : What a Time to Be Alive Suuns : Watch You, Watch Me : Felt Tatá Aeroplano : Mil Almas De Gato : Alma de Gato Television Personalities : Have A Nice Day : Beautiful Despair Thalia Zedek Band : Of The Unknown : Fighting Season Thee Oh Sees : Enrique El Cobrador : Smote Reverser They Might Be Giants : I Left My Body : I Like Fun Tim Burgess : Inspired Again : As I Was Now Twin Shadow : Saturdays (feat. HAIM) : Caer Ty Segall : Every 1's a Winner : Freedom's Goblin Ty Segall : Isolation : Fudge Sandwich Unknown Mortal Orchestra : Ministry of Alienation : Sex & Food The Vaccines : Maybe (Luck of the Draw) : Combat Sports The Voidz : Leave It In My Dreams : Virtue Waxahatchee : You're Welcome : Great Thunder Will Oldham : Party with Marty (Abstract Blues) : Songs of Love and Horror William Fitzsimmons : Wait for Me : Mission Bell Wooden Shjips : Staring at the Sun : V. Wye Oak : Lifer : The Louder I Call, the Faster It Runs Wylderness : Broadcast : Wylderness Yo La Tengo : For You Too : There's A Riot Going On
DL ou ouça no spotify. Links para as edições passadas 2007 | 2008 | 2009 | 2010 | 2011 | 2012 | 2013 | 2014 | 2015 | 2016
dez.2018
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really LONG CHARACTER SURVEY.
RULES.
repost , don’t reblog ! tag 10 ! good luck !
TAGGED. @paternall thank dad! <3 <3
TAGGING. @matilda-the-downer, @nullisms, @ears-off, @lamabilite, @subjectwyk, @slightlyspliced, @nolamb, @theeternalartist, @deathboundinautumn, @wiingedflight, anddd @ whoever else wants to do this long ass thing.
BASICS.
FULL NAME : Cosette Blanc
NICKNAME : Cossy/Cossie or Cos
AGE : 8 // 16
BIRTHDAY : May 20th
ETHNIC GROUP : French and spanish
NATIONALITY : French
LANGUAGE / S : English, french, and a small amount of spanish.
SEXUAL ORIENTATION : Demisexual
ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : Demiromantic
RELATIONSHIP STATUS : N/a
CLASS : High Class
HOME TOWN / AREA : Paris, France
CURRENT HOME : Rapture
PROFESSION : Gathering ADAM // Protecting Little Sisters
PHYSICAL.
HAIR : Ashy Brown
EYES : Light blue // Glowing yellow
NOSE : Small button shape
FACE : Very round
LIPS : Relatively big and thick as she got older, she’s got the pout
COMPLEXION : Pale medium, neutral undertones
BLEMISHES : N/a
SCARS : N/a
TATTOOS : N/a
HEIGHT : 4’0” // 6’2”
WEIGHT : 55 lbs // 160 lbs
BUILD : Thin but sturdy, pear shaped
FEATURES : Cute small smile, plush cheeks // scowl , still hella plus cheeks, nice lips
ALLERGIES : N/a
USUAL HAIR STYLE : Sides pulled back with bow // Down and messy
USUAL FACE LOOK : Happy, innocent // Constant resting bitch face, occasional small smile
USUAL CLOTHING : Fancy Dresses // Little sister Uniform // Big sister suit
PSYCHOLOGY.
FEAR / S : Drowning
ASPIRATION / S : To be a good girl // Save the children // Forget
POSITIVE TRAITS : Sweet, kind // Smart, strong
NEGATIVE TRAITS : Curious // Mean, stubborn
MBTI : INTJ
ZODIAC : Taurus
TEMPERAMENT : Sanguine // Choleric.
SOUL TYPE / S : The Priest
ANIMALS : Rabbit
VICE HABIT / S : Messing with hair
FAITH : Atheist
GHOSTS ? : Kinda
AFTERLIFE ? : Don’t know
REINCARNATION ? : Don’t know
ALIENS ? : Maybe
POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : In Rapture, she is agents Lamb
ECONOMIC PREFERENCE : Doesn’t care anymore
SOCIOPOLITICAL POSITION : N/a
EDUCATION LEVEL : Some middle school
FAMILY.
FATHER : Yvain Blanc
MOTHER : Celia Blanc
SIBLINGS : N/a
EXTENDED FAMILY : N/a // Jack, Tenenbaum, Antonio, other little sisters
NAME MEANING / S : Cosette ;; Victorious Blanc ;; White
HISTORICAL CONNECTION ? : N/a
FAVOURITES.
BOOK : Can’t really remember books all that much, just basic children's books
MOVIE : Never really watched movies
5 SONGS : La vie en Rose;Édith Piaf, Sleep Walk;Santo & Johnny, March Winds And April Showers;Abe Lyman, Papa Loves Mambo;Perry Como, Earth Angel;The Penguins
DEITY : N/a
HOLIDAY : Halloween because every kid loves candy
MONTH : May
SEASON : Spring
PLACE : Arcadia
WEATHER : Sunny and cool
SOUND : The crackling noises phonographs make
SCENT / S : Floral scents, any expensive perfume or cologne // ADAM
TASTE / S : Anything sweet
FEEL / S : Being sung in a blanket // Holding onto daddy’s back // Holding a little ones hand
ANIMAL / S : Jellyfish
NUMBER : 20
COLOUR : RED
EXTRA.
TALENTS : Painting, gardening, piano // Gathering ADAM // Punching splicers in the face
BAD AT : Following rules...all verses she’s just that bad at rules
TURN ONS : Someone who understands her and will listen to her talk for hours
TURN OFFS : Anyone who is just rude in general towards her
HOBBIES : Painting, drawing, gardening, floral arrangements, piano.
TROPES : The ingénue
AESTHETIC TAGS : flowers, butterflies, fire, black corruption
GPOY QUOTES : “ Jellyfish are survivors of everything that ever happened to anyone else. ”
FC INFO.
MAIN FC / S : Chloe Grace Moretz
ALT FC / S : Basic little sister and big sister in game models.
OLDER FC / S : N/a
YOUNGER FC / S : Chloe Grace Moretz {{ I was good with picking a child actor }}
VOICE CLAIM / S : Fairuza Balk
GENDERBENT FC / S : N/a
MUN QUESTIONS.
Q1 : if you could write your character your way in their own movie , what would it be called , what style would it be filmed in , and what would it be about ?
A1 : Mmmm...for a title maybe ‘ Cracked Glass ’ and I have a feeling it would be more of a psychological horror type movie depicting the the struggles Cosette goes through on a daily basis. It would be filled with creepy imagery and probably some nasty gore which I’m alllll about.
Q2 : what would their soundtrack / score sound like ?
A2 : The song that is currently on my blog is it, 100%.
Q3 : why did you start writing this character ?
A3 : Well I was getting bored of playing a character and I always loved bioshock and thought of making a character blog there. Took me a few days to choose but I figure ‘well I see no little sisters how about we try that?’. At first Cosette was just a generic little sister when I started this blog but she evolved pretty fast when I realized it didn’t have to be that way and I could make my own back story, give her a name, a appearance that was different from the others, and basically change her into my very own OC.
Q4 : what first attracted you to this character ?
A4: Little sisters are SO FUCKING CUTE and plus she is now my OC who doesn’t love their OC’s?
Q5 : describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.
A5 : I don’t know if I dislike anything about Cosette yes sometimes I wish she wasn’t so mean but I don’t hate her for it. Honestly most of her personality and how she acts is my own personality. She’s basically me but not me at the same time.
Q6 : what do you have in common with your muse ?
A6 : Our personality like I just said...Cosette is how I get a lot of my feelings out because I don’t really talk about them very much. She’s my vent character.
Q7 : how does your muse feel about you ?
A7 : Sometimes she’s indifferent but most of the time we get along great we are practically almost the same person.
Q8 : what characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ?
A8 : @paternall ( dad ), @diemuttergans ( Mam ), @longestconofall ( I’ve never interacted with a Fontaine and I really want to. A Lamb would be nice but there isn’t a blog for her. And Eleanor! Pretty much any Bioshock character and OC, come at me.
Q9 : what gives you inspiration to write your muse ?
A9 : Carrie, playing Bioshock 1 & 2, and music.
Q10 : how long did this take you to complete ?
A10 : 2ish hours because I was kinda on and off it.
#;;watch me fly︱headcanon#{{ '//' mark different verses#and wow i tagged people for once in my lazy life }}
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Walking Dead Game FanFiction - "The Past Scars"
Title: The Past Scars Characters: Clementine, Javier, Eleanor, Tripp Summary: Clementine, still reeling from the fresh wounds from her past, inflicts pain against her wrists. When Javier finds out, it results in the two becoming much closer. Author’s Note: SEASON 3 SPOILERS AHEAD. Okay, I know this one is later on my list but I felt a lot of inspiration for this one after catching up on season 3, so please don’t hate me for bumping it up :) Requested By: Anonymous ———♥️♥️♥️———- Since Kenny’s death, since Jane’s suicide, Clementine hadn’t been the same. Although considering that nobody in her life had known her earlier self, they wouldn’t have been able to tell.
Except for one, major thing that gave way to the fact that she was hurting. Yet, only one person seemed to see it. And it was simply because he was the only one willing to give her the time of day.
They had only just made it back to Prescott after Mariana’s murder and Kate’s injury, and tensions were, to say the least, high. As soon as they had arrived, Javier had made a mad bolt towards Eleanor’s temporary station, still tending to Kate fresh out of surgery, Gabe had stormed off to vent some of his anger, Tripp was meandering attempting to find a way to collect his thoughts, and Clementine was left to suffer on her own. Alone, once more.
Just like the old days.
Clementine’s head tilted back, her eyes wandering to the grey and murky sky overhead and the way the clouds loomed over their temporary home, suffocating her from the sky she so desperately wanted to see. The sky that seemed to hold everyone she longed to see again.
Her gaze returned to the ground, her arms crossing against her chest as she surveyed the scene.
“She kept calling for you, you know.” Clem could faintly hear Eleanor claim, and watched as Javier’s face contorted in pain at the statement.
She was the reason he couldn’t be here. He was the reason she was alive. The fact that he helped her live only put himself and his family in more pain than they already were.
Maybe she didn’t deserve to live. She found herself thinking that more and more these days. After all the people she killed. After being a cause for Luke’s death. After Luke’s death being a reason for Jane’s suicide. After shooting Kenny. After shooting Lee.
Today, it was only hammered in. Javier’s efforts to help her stay alive only resulted in more long-lasting pain for his family.
“Good going, Clem.” The child mumbled to herself, her breath strained and painful, unable to stomach the sight of what she had caused.
Swallowing hard, the girl shook her head and pushed herself forwards and off of the wooden wall that she had leaned against. As she made her way down the makeshift street, she knew exactly where her next stop was going to be, and she couldn’t wait to get there.
Javier’s eyes parted from Eleanor’s seeing movement behind her shoulder, watching as the familiar figure began walking down the air force runway, her arms slowly lifting from laying limply at her sides to hugging herself close. His brows furrowed at the sight, watching her head lower ever so slightly. It wouldn’t be enough for a passersby to notice any difference, but after spending the past few days by her side almost non-stop, he could see the instant shift in her stature.
Eleanor’s voice, now droning in the background as he had fixated his attention on Clementine, had ceased and allowed her gaze to turn and latch onto the same figure as his was. “What?” She asked, turning back to him with a frustrated frown, wondering how long he had gone ignoring her.
He remained silent for a beat, watching as the child rounded a corner, faintly seeing her disappear as the sky grew darker. It was already getting harder to see as the natural light their little town flourished in continued to fade. Javier glanced back at the woman in front of him and quickly shook his head. “Nothing.” Of course she didn’t see anything wrong with her, Eleanor rarely ever saw Clementine. Javier, on the hand, had hardly left her side as of late.
“It’s getting late,” Eleanor claimed, bitterness lacing her voice as she shook her head in disappointment. “I’m going to bring Kate inside to rest up.” The brunette dug around in her pocket, eventually removing a wad of bandages and stuffing it into the male’s hand. “I assume you’re going to come and visit her tonight,” She pressed, the twinge of frustrations still lingering. “There’s a lot there, and I’m expecting some back, but those are for if she starts bleeding excessively again.” She shook her head sadly. “She’s isn’t bleeding externally too much right now, but just in case.” With a brief nod, she waved over Tripp who rushed to her side, instantly helping her lift the fragile patient to bring her inside the small, wooden shack of an infirmary.
Watching the duo carefully, Javier could feel a slight pit in his stomach at the notion that he couldn’t help, or at the very least, shouldn’t. He, in part, was a reason she was injured in the first place. Maybe it would be best if he gave her space. If he let others take care of her since he clearly couldn’t.
His eyes turned to the end of the small town, staring at the space Clementine had once possessed. Taking a deep breath, he started down the path, his eyes nervously scanning the people around him. Upon reaching the end of the runway, he glanced around in confusion seeing no one nearby. That was, until he was able to spot a ladder propped up against the side of the bar he and Clementine had previously run into trouble in.
Ah, their sweet memories.
He wandered closer, resting a hand against the railing. At the very least, maybe he would be able to get a better look around to see where she was. Sure it was growing dark, but maybe he would be able to spot her before the sky went dark.
He had done enough damage for one day. He had hurt enough people. He wouldn’t rest until he was sure that she was okay.
As he started up the latter, slowly and quietly trying to not disturb anyone who may be inside the bar, he could faintly hear sounds coming from upon the roof, forcing him to pause and furrow his brows before resuming his trek.
It was a voice. It was faint. Soft, gentle, weak sounds. But a voice. Someone was definitely up there.
Heaving himself up, he caught a glimpse of whoever was sitting against the rooftop. Their legs were dangling over the edge, their head downcast to their lap as if they were working on something. It only took a slight tilt of his head, and another step against the latter to fixate on the painful whimpers protruding from the figure, as well as seeing the gliding of a knife against a small, fragile wrist. Hearing a shaky intake of breath and another restrained whimper, Javi’s eyes widened in horror.
“Clementine?”
The figure froze and her head gradually lifted. With the faint glow of the moon being the only illumination, he could see the way her eyes closed in defeat and the way her hands clutched into frustrated fists, but even worse, he could see the way her actions only allowed blood to continue to pulsate from the slashes against her quivering wrists.
“Clem-!” His voice was more urgent this time knowing for sure that it was her. His body heaved itself up onto the roof and he threw himself the few steps it took to get to where she was sitting. While desperate, his voice was quiet, not wanting to gain any unnecessary attention from passersby down below.
“What Javi?” Her voice was bitter and cold although, through her front, he could feel the disappointment in being caught strangling itself in her throat.
“What are you doing?” He begged desperately, his face more riddled with shock than anything she had seen yet to date. Her eyes refused to meet his own, but in her peripheral vision she could see it clearly. Only when she dared to turn her head to meet his own was it confirmed, and only then did Javi see the tears glistening in the young girl’s eyes, merely awaiting to fall. His expression softened quickly, placing his legs over the edge to match hers instead of crouching desperately at her side to gain her attention. “Clem..”
“I’m fine, okay?” She sniffled, shaking her head and tugging down her jacket sleeve to hide the bloody gashes. Only then had he noticed she had thrown it on since he last saw her, probably to hide the scars from anyone until she found some bracelets or longer sleeves.
“No, you’re not.” He paused, watching the way her eyes twitched in agony at the phrase. “Clem–” His hand reached out towards her, reaching for her left arm which she had inflicted the pain onto.
Upon seeing his palm come into her frame she jolted away, holding her goo hand out to push away his gesture. “S-Stop! Please,” Her voice was desperate and strained, even slightly terrified. Seeing her in such terror at merely wanting to touch her sent a wash of heartache throughout his body.
“Why?” Although continuously asking her questions, his voice remained sweet and calm, as if hoping to lull her enough into relaxation that she could speak with him. “Clem, please. I’m worried about this–”
“Don’t be.” Her voice quipped back, her body sliding partially away from him allowing the roof beneath them to groan. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Well I am.” He responded quickly, the instant she had stopped speaking. His brows were pressed in frustrated terror, the kind of expression that screamed ‘let me help you’. If she hadn’t seen the expression hundreds of times before, maybe it would have worked on her. “I’m going to worry about you, Clem. Always.”
“Well don’t.”
Javi’s eyes flickered with a kind of hurt before pressing again. “Clem, why?’
“Because that means you care!” She quipped quickly, the words jamming in her throat behind the swell of tears she had so desperately attempted to suppress. Now, it was no secret to either of them how fragile she was. Javi’s gaze fell, his eyes taking in every ounce of her cracking expression, feeling his heart ache at the sight. Clem shook her head, as if attempting to swat away the sensation. “And caring never ends well.”
“Clem–”
“Stop, Javi!” While desperate, her voice was never loud enough to attract the gazes of people upon the street below. Clementine, while broken, was still smart. Just one of the many things Javier admired about her. “Don’t care about me.”
His heart cracked at the comment, his body physically recoiling - albeit slightly - at her desperation of him to ignore her when all he wanted was to speak with her. “Clem, don’t say that.” Somehow feeling the answers he wanted gradually falling into place, the puzzle pieces slowly clicking, his presence became more gentle around the child. More friendly and earnest. The terror was still dwelling underneath, but he attempted to hide any terrors he felt underneath the care he wished to surface. The gentleness that would maybe allow Clementine to trust him. “I’m going to care about you. I already do.”
That seemed to be her last straw.
A faint sigh escaped her lips, wavering against the last of her strength fluttering away. Her head lowered, her expression of forced strength shattering and her hands balling into fists of self-hatred against her lap. “You shouldn’t.” Her voice wobbled out, now unable to see the look of care stretched out over Javier’s entire body. “I don’t see why you do.”
Gingerly, not wanting to waste time but not wanting to frighten the girl, the male wrapped his arm around her back, tugging the sobbing child closer to him. Sensing her body stiffen beneath his palm, his frown only deepened. His hand brushed up and down against her arm, hoping to assure her of his kind intentions. “Shh, hey, it’s okay.” He assured softly, his voice gruff as he brought the child into his side.
Using his opposing hand, he set her cheek against his shoulder, allowing any tears she shed to be soaked up by the dirted fabric. His other hand remained resting against her injured arm, gently brushing back and forth against her quivering frame. “It’s okay to have people care about you, Clem.” He assured, his gaze locked strictly forwards, on the lookout for anyone who knew the duo. If needed he was ready to shoo away anyone he needed to. If he could help it, nobody other than him was about to see her in this state. “I’m going to no matter what.”
“I’m only going to get you killed.” She whimpered into his shirt, her eyes closing in sorrow, allowing a few more tears which had clung to her eyelashes to disband onto his shirt. Each one that fell was filled with the memory of another person she had killed. Another walker she had stabbed. Another life she had indirectly caused to end. Another twinge of frustration that she couldn’t get him to be as disinterested in her as the rest of the people in Prescott.
“That’s not true.” He claimed. Javi could hear her mouth open, ready to protest but he shook his head, his free hand lifting once more and holding her head to his shoulder, hoping the shielding of her eyes from the outside world was comforting, at least slightly, to the girl who seemed so terrified of it. “We’re partners, remember? I’m not going anywhere. Nothing’s going to happen to me.”
“That’s what they all say.” She admitted weakly, her head falling deeper into the comfort of his shoulder. His skin was warm compared to the chilly night winds whipping at her dampened cheeks. “The man who was like a father to me, the man who taught me to shoot, I needed to chain him up to a radiator in a dingy old jewelry shop and shoot him square between the eyes because he begged me to not let him turn.” She paused. "Because I was the reason he was bitten.” Her head sunk in deeper again, prompting Javi’s hold against her to grow tighter, pausing from motion to allow her to speak. “The other man who took care of me I needed to shoot when he was in a death fight with another one of our group members.” Her gaze fell. “He lost his son and his wife. And after he finally began to heal from it I killed his girlfriend. Then I shot him. I held his hand as he passed.” Her eyes squeezed tighter. “I needed to shoot him too.”
“Hey,” He hushed, ready to tell her it was alright and to calm down. His grip tightened more, bringing her closer into his side in the warmest embrace he could muster, but she continued.
“The woman I was with after that taught me a lot about staying alive.” Her gaze fell. “I was sitting outside oblivious when she hung herself. I could have saved her, but I didn’t know that’s what she was doing.” Her throat clamped again.
“Clem–” His voice was soft and sweet, but Clementine resumed despite the shakes in her body growing. Despite the way his thumb brushed back and forth against her terrified frame.
“I found her hanging from the rafters in one of the rooms. She was pregnant. I found the test on the floor right in front of her.” She shook her head, her fists pressing deeper into her lap. “And the father? I killed him when he fell through a patch of ice and I didn’t go out to help him. Instead, I killed the walkers heading for him to buy him time. But he didn’t make it because he didn’t have help.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He said softly, hoping the gentleness and sincerity in his voice continued to assure her the longer they spoke and the more she opened up about her fear of growing close with anyone. His chin rested against the top of her head, his hand remaining in shielding her eyes from the world which had been so cruel to her. “Nothing like that is going to happen to you anymore. I promise.” He exhaled softly, his hand returning to it’s soothing rubbing motions in an attempt to calm the rigid sobs escaping her body. “As long as I’m around, I won’t let anything like that happen to you again.”
He knew all too well what it felt like to continually mess up. To continuously feel blamed for every wrong doing in life. To fell the blood of so many against his hands. He knew the pain it could inflict as it was a weight he had against his shoulders everday.
But on a child, he could only imagine the kind of pain she was dragging herself through.
“That’s not true–”
“I promise, Clem.” He hushed, peeling their bodies apart and looking right into her teary, golden eyes. “I won’t ever let you feel like that ever again.” His gaze was serious, his hands resting firmly against her quivering shoulders, staring back into the surprised look she shot back at him. “As long as I’m around, you’ll never have to feel like that again, okay? I promise.” He searched her eyes for any sign of understanding. Of agreement. He offered her a faint smile, and although it was weak, it was as sincere as he could force himself to be. “I want to care about you, Clem. I want to help keep you safe.“
Her eyes were wide, shaking in awe at the words he spoke so sincerely. Maybe it was the way he was giving her a smile that assured her he was telling the truth, Maybe it was the way he had her back all day, or maybe it was because deep down she could feel a kind of relation to him. Weakly, Clem cleared her throat. “Keep both of us safe.” She pushed, the wave of tears pouring from her eyes now ceasing, and instead allowing her glossed over gaze to offer him a weak smile in response. Clem could practically feel the sincerity pouring from him, assuring her that he was genuine. In a sense, she could feel as if at some point he had been in the same position she currently sat in. Maybe he still was.
“Right.” Without removing his assuring eyes from hers, he reached forwards and captured her wounded arm in his hand, bringing it closer towards him. “Because as long as I’m around, I’m going to keep both of us safe. I promise you, Clem.” His eyes finally glanced down, sliding her sleeve back and revealing the self-inflicted gashes against her skin. Instantly, he could feel the glare of regret she was giving her own skin, and before he allowed her to wallow too deep into it he removed the bandage swab from his pocket and ripped off a small piece of the fabric. Cautiously, he brushed away any blood scattering her arm and fingers, feeling her painful winces beneath his touch.
As he discarded the cloth and removed a water bottle from his bag, he cleared his throat and spoke. “Clem, I need you to promise me you won’t do this to yourself again, alright?”
Gingerly, he popped open the lid, holding her arm over a crevice in the roof and dribbling a small portion of water against the three cuts, feeling her flinch under the stream but not uttering a sound. Turning to her, he saw a returned gaze of sorrow, but he could tell it was more so at herself than at him.
“I want to make sure you’re safe. And okay.” He claimed, rolling out the bandages and wrapping it around the wounds carefully, ensuring it was tight enough to soak up the blood but also not enough to cause her discomfort. “And I honestly cannot stand the thought of you doing this to yourself without beating myself up a little.” He gave a weak laugh, hoping to ease the tension as best as he could. Still, he could feel himself slipping.
“It’s not your fault–”
“I know, I know.” Finishing up her bandages, he set her arm back against her lap, rolling down her jacket sleeve to ensure her comfort. His eyes lifted to meet hers once more, offering a gentle smile. “I can’t just watch when you’re in pain.” He shrugged, his gaze tearing to the dwindling life upon the street. “I care about you, Clem. I want to take care of you.” He grew serious. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. And, as long as I can help it, nothing will.”
Clem stood in stunned silence, her eyes wide with a kind of amazed awe at how determined he was to keep her in good health and spirits. “Really?”
Javi offered her a kind smile in return, reaching out and tugging her back into his shoulder playfully, provoking a faint smile from the girl as he did so. The kind of safe joy and trust she hadn’t felt in anyone for a long while.
How long had it been since she had told someone about Lee? She hadn’t uttered a word to anyone about anything regarding Jane or Kenny, and yet seeing the way he stared back into her, seeing something in him that she could relate so much too, something that told her he was in the same boat as her, gave her all the assurance she needed that he was going to keep her safe. That they were going to keep each other safe.
“Of course, Clem. We’re partners.”
Clementine gave a faint chuckle, still reeling in her emotions from her burst earlier with a faint sniffle. “Right. We’re partners.” She turned, smiling with a kind of sincerity up at him that she had lacked for a long while. “And friends.” ———♥️♥️♥️———-
#thatglitterygeek fanfictions#the walking dead game season 1#the walking dead game season 2#the walking dead game season 3#the walking dead game#TWDG#twdgs1#twdgs2#twdgs3#twdg clementine#twdg javier#twdg eleanor#twdg Tripp#Clementine and Javier#twdg javi#TWDG Clem#Clem and javi#FanFiction
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10 Best Movies of 2019 (So Far)
With the summer movie season winding down, we look back at the top 10 films cinema has had to offer this far into 2019.
The summer movie season of 2019 is over. While the heat continues to swelter, and school by and large remains out, the final weekend of new Hollywood blockbuster extravaganzas has sped off the scene like a getaway car. And given the box office receipts for most of the studio tentpoles this year, we imagine the whole industry is ready to put the summer behind them. Be that as it may, cinema remains strong, hence why we think is the perfect time to look back on the year so far. While many others like to take stock of the movie calendar at the literal halfway mark that occurs at the end of June, we prefer letting the biggest moviegoing season to wrap up and only start reflecting during the deep breath before film festivals like TIFF and Telluride kick off the awards season. Indeed, you’ll see below that this July and August have been unusually fruitful. Looking back at the first seven-plus months of 2019 reveals that, for whatever box office hand-wringing, it’s already been a promising time for new voices making an impact and legendary auteurs communicating with the changing filmmaking landscape. So without further ado, please join us in celebrating the top 10 movies of 2019. So far.
10. The Peanut Butter Falcon
Tall tales and the myths they build can be stronger than any river current in the American South. Many of the best works of fiction from that part of the country embrace such grandiosity, and The Peanut Butter Falcon is no exception. An infinitely sweet film populated with outsized personalities, directors Tyler Nilson and Mike Schwartz’s transcendentalist adventure was one of the biggest surprises out of SXSW earlier this year, and months later it still radiates an authentic breezy charm. Very much a modern day Huckleberry Finn for those labeled as disabled or special needs, the film crafts its own legend around Zak (Zack Gottsagen), a young man with Down Syndrome that society wishes to forget. Save for Eleanor (Dakota Johnson), his concerned doctor at the retirement home the state abandoned him in, no one really cares when Zak escapes to chase his dream of becoming a professional wrestler. Yet a dispiriting prologue gives way to the loveliest journey as Zak befriends Tyler (Shia LaBeouf) and hitches a ride with the good ol’ boy on a raft floating down the North Carolina Outer Banks. It’s a movie happily supplied with homespun love and wonderfully textured characters, including all three leads, among whom LaBeouf proves nigh unrecognizable as the reluctant Good Samaritan by way of Mark Twain’s St. Petersburg.
9. Luce
The best movies provoke discussion, and few this year will be as challenging as the conversations borne by director Julius Onah and screenwriter J.C. Lee’s Luce. A film based on Lee’s own play, the movie interrogates the idea of the American Dream and wonders if even when it comes true, how much of that is a manipulation by those who espouse skepticism of it. The film is about a star athlete and valedictorian named Luce (Kelvin Harrison Jr.). Actually, Luce was just what his parents (Naomi Watts and Tim Roth) made up after they adopted him from a war-torn African nation, unable to pronounce his birth name. Even so, he very much is their son and not only the apple of their eye, but that of his whole school. Perhaps this is why his teacher, Ms. Harriet Wilson (Octavia Spencer), holds him to a different standard than his other African American peers. It’s a story about a school-sized tinderbox of good intentions that threatens to ignite after Harriet finds illegal fireworks in Luce’s locker, all of which bubbles with the tension of a thriller even as it plays like a truth-searching drama. Luce is a Rorschach Test for both the characters and audiences to examine their own racial biases, and the hypocrisy of expectations. Nevertheless, the film exceeds ours.
8. Avengers: Endgame
It would be easy in more cynical circles to shrug off Avengers: Endgame as the ultimate fan service movie, and in fact it is. But after 11 years of world-building, and the even more impressive franchise-building occurring outside of its continuity, Marvel Studios’ 22nd installment is the grandest of commercial and long-form narrative achievements. By making a series finale to all the movies that came before it, including the cliffhanger in Avengers: Infinity War, Marvel Studios President Kevin Feige and his legion of collaborators, most notably directors Joe and Anthony Russo, and Iron Man star Robert Downey Jr., find the rare quality that most eludes traditional television storytellers: a fully satisfying ending. At three hours, Avengers: Endgame rises above almost anything else Marvel has ever produced and acts as a pseudo-manifesto for the studio. While many of the parts are lesser than the whole, the tight storytelling and tonal consistency over nearly two dozen films pays off with the kind of multi-tiered catharsis and spectacle that drives global moviegoers into theaters by the tens of millions. Not since the days of Cecil B. DeMille has there been an epic so brimming with familiar faces, but unlike the overstuffed Infinity War, this showmanship is wrapped in a bow of gracefulness. This is the ultimate Marvel Studios movie. With a renewal of the charisma and humanity Downey first brought to this enterprise, there is a creative spark shining bright here… and that leaves open the question of how Marvel can possibly repeat this high-note, both in terms of heart and gross, ever again.
7. Toy Story 4
Toy Story 4 didn't need to be made. The ending of 2010’s Toy Story 3 was the perfect conclusion to a saga that began the day a child named Andy first played with a cowboy doll called Woody. Yet we’re so glad that Toy Story 4 exists, as Pixar discovered a soulful epilogue to the characters who first made the studio the preeminent animation house of the 21st century. Essentially a coda to an already finished yarn, Pixar’s elegant solution to being required to return to the childhood daydream of Woody and Buzz Lightyear is to permanently wrap-up their shared journey in the most adult of ways. On the surface, this is another story about Woody (Tom Hanks) trying to teach a wayward toy its purpose, in this case a do-it-yourself Frankenstein’s Monster named Forky (Tony Hale). But Toy Story 4 raises a much more interesting question about what would make Woody want to move on with his life as a lost toy? Experiencing something akin to a midlife crisis when he crosses paths with old flame Bo Peep (Annie Potts), Woody is asked to change his perspective of what life is meant to be after reaching a certain age, just as a post-John Lasseter Pixar discovers a new and hopefully more inclusive identity. This movie does, after all, finally give Bo Peep depth and a humanity as heart-rending as anything to do with the cowboy that has a snake in his boot. Not bad for characters made of cloth and porcelain.
6. Midsommar
If you ever wanted a movie to burn down your toxic relationship, Midsommar is gasoline that comes with already lit flames. As Ari Aster’s heartfelt explanation of why some people do not belong together, this Swedish set film turns cult-based horror on its head and reverses everything you might expect from the director of Hereditary. Bringing horror out into the sunshine, Midsommar presents a world that is as shadowless as it is pitiless. Taking place almost entirely during the July rituals of an obscure (and fictional) Pagan commune, the film provides a set of antagonists who might kill you with kindness while displaying an egalitarian empathy as foreign to modern (and selfish) American traditions as their deadlier customs. This creates a striking backdrop to a potent allegory about why Florence Pugh’s Dani and Jack Reynor’s Christian really should have broken up long ago. Pugh is especially haunting as a young woman who’s in a state of perpetual trauma after hanging on to a worn-out band aid in need of tearing for six months. Her harrowing epiphany adds an insidious persuasiveness to cruel machinations that turn cooing Millennial intellectuals into horror’s new dumb American red meat. And the fumes produced by their roasting are quite beautiful, indeed.
5. The Farewell
Another film about the shock incurred by contrasting cultures, The Farewell is also a gorgeously realized portrait of a woman who feels drawn yet alienated by both sides of her identity. But whatever confusion she might experience is supplanted by an absolute love for her grandmother and the connection that elder represents to an ever-fading past. Writer-director Lulu Wang’s incredibly personal drama is equal parts hilarious and heartbreaking, all while never once making a single false step in its unusual path through grief—one that must be made in total silence. The Farewell centers on Awkwafina’s Billi, a 30-year-old New Yorker who was born in China and was only six when her parents moved to the States, leaving a vague impression of an idyllic childhood with her grandmother Nai Nai (Shuzhen Zhou). However, what exactly this feeling of severed identity means to Billi comes to the surface when Nai Nai is diagnosed with lung cancer… something that her family will not tell her of because in China, it is the family’s emotional burden to carry the knowledge of a seeming death sentence. Believing she only is suffering from a cold, Nai Nai is thrilled that her adult children from America and Japan are returning home for a wedding that is in reality a pretense for everyone to say goodbye—although not Billi. Her parents think she’ll crack and admit this pantomime. Thus she must crash her grandmother’s own living wake. Billi’s saddened homecoming is constantly juxtaposed by her grandmother’s glowing delight to have a full house again. Occupying the space between tragedy and joy, Billi’s Western apprehension to Chinese custom and her longing to reconnect with it, Wang finds a canvas to paint every shade of anguish and exhilaration offered by nostalgia and an unfamiliar heritage. Awkwafina also confirms she is a star on the rise by carrying this intimate tragi-comedy with a role that requires her to speak in English, in Chinese, and most impressively not at all, while still saying everything.
4. Us
Jordan Peele follows up his directorial debut with another horror movie that will be dissected and debated for a long time to come. More ambitious than Get Out, and arguably the most vividly photographed chiller in ages, Us is bigger but still razor-focused on its subject. A massive allegory about class warfare turning storybook supernatural, Peele imagines a conflict between the haves and have-nots in American society while noting that, at the heart of the matter, they’re the same exact type of people. With a deft touch and sense of humor that is as refreshing as it was in Get Out, Peele introduces audiences to the Wilson family, who have seemingly everything but are still envious of keeping up with the proverbial (white) Joneses. For patriarch Gabe (Winston Duke), this can be accepted as a point of obliviousness, but Lupita Nyong’o’s Adelaide cannot feign such innocence as she has seen the face of want and hunger—it was her own—and she left it to rot. Yet it rises for her again when “Red,” her doppelganger she once spied in a funhouse mirror, comes home with equally twisted doubles of her family. It is a tour de force showcase for Nyong’o, who gives an Oscar-worthy turn as both Adelaide and Red. Us provides a juicy parable as rich as the best Twilight Zone storytelling by Rod Serling that inspired it. The end might overreach, but the breadth of its vision and arm remains an inspiration.
3. The Last Black Man in San Francisco
You cannot hate a place unless you love it. This is a paradox that Joe Talbot and Jimmie Fails’ The Last Black Man in San Francisco posits with illuminating insight. An epic poem for the modern age of gentrification, this is a movie that focuses on a Bay City whose skyrocketing real estate has pushed the faces and hands that built its skyline to the fringes. It’s a fact of life encapsulated by an opening image of a young black girl going to school by the edge of saltwater so poisonous that city employees will only venture there in hazmat suits. Pushed literally to the edge of society, Jimmie Fails—a character played by the man who has lived this life and wrote the story down—dreams of reclaiming what was once his family’s birthright: a Victorian home in the Golden Gate area that his grandfather claims to have built with his own hands. It is now owned by a privileged middle aged white couple, yet when they enter into an inheritance dispute with relatives, an opportunity opens up for Jimmie and his best friend Montgomery (Jonathan Majors) to move in as squatters. This is a lyrical love letter to cities that no longer exist, and landscapes that once allowed dignity for those who toiled in them. Obviously it is Jimmie’s personal life story, but it is the insights of Montgomery, Emile Mosseri’s mournful score, and Adam Newport-Berra’s surreal camera setups that elevate Last Man’s song and verse into a celestial elegy. One which provides as much hope as it does despair.
2. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood
The arrival of a new Quentin Tarantino movie always comes with debate and some degree of controversy. But when the smoke clears, Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood will be remembered as one of his very best. A film that demands multiple viewings, Once Upon a Time is the rare major studio movie that requires you to meet it on its own terms, a sad fact Tarantino is aware of and deconstructs with a surprising degree of wistful melancholy. An obvious love letter to the long-gone Hollywood of the 1960s, which by ’69 saw the studio system in its death throes, the movie is also a commentary of our own cultural moment where auteurs pursuing massive original ideas, like Tarantino, and movie stars not defined by what cape they’ve worn on screen, like Leonardo DiCaprio and Brad Pitt, are almost a thing of the past. Tarantino’s elegiac meditation is as much about his and movie stars’ own setting sun as it is the Hollywood movies he grew up on, but it is also an unimaginably ambitious and celebratory film that dismisses plot and audience expectations that have been flattened by a decade of formula. Here is a film that revels in just chilling out with morally ambiguous characters while also offering a vessel that connects the past and present via giddy historical revisionist madness. Starring DiCaprio and Pitt as fading TV star Rick Dalton and his stuntman Cliff Booth, the film champions the intangible alchemy between charisma and cinema, providing both with their best material in years. Pitt may, in fact, have never been better than as the smiling cowboy whose high noon is with a counterculture that is burying his and Rick’s livelihoods. Their journeys, meanwhile, are paralleled by the rise of a new star named Sharon Tate (Margot Robbie) and the youthful change she represents. The importance of Sharon, and her subtly interconnected world, is determined by how much you know of her going in. For those who do, she is more than just the idol of her age; she is the soul of Tarantino’s sweetest movie, both in terms of its ‘60s setting and its desire to divorce a lifetime of light from the specter of Charles Manson’s half-century of darkness. Unlike Tarantino’s last three pictures, this isn’t about revenge; it’s a bedtime yarn dreaming of salvation for Hollywood, for culture, and for a legacy that can live on past 26 years.
1. Booksmart
Despite her celebrity, Olivia Wilde has always seemed a little underrated as an actor. That should change going forward as Wilde also announces herself as a major directorial talent with Booksmart. A pitch-perfect comedy that writes a teen anthem for the next generation, Booksmart proves that the cinematic R-rated comedy is not dead, and further it can only get better as it invites new diverse voices to reconfigure the form. Among those voices accompanying Wilde are screenwriters like Susanna Fogel and Katie Silberman, and a fresh-faced cast that is more than game to refocus the coming-of-age narrative on the type of nerdy young women who previously might’ve been lucky to be in the fuzzy background, if included at all. Kaitlyn Dever and Beanie Feldstein make a banquet out of protagonists Amy and Molly, two Type A’s who are Ivy League-bound and think the perfect night before graduation is watching Ken Burns documentaries. But upon realizing that all the supposed flakes they wrote off in their senior class are also headed toward bright futures after four years of partying, Molly will make up for missing out by dragging Amy on an odyssey toward the perfect Gen-Z high school party. So there you have it, the 10 best movies of the year so far. Agree? Disagree? Did we leave something off? Let us know in the comment section below! Sourcehttps://www.denofgeek.com/us/movies/282640/best-movies-2019 Read the full article
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