#Candy's Hound Rescue
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27 November 2023
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#Candy's Hound Rescue#Kerry Elliman#Charity Humane Society International/UK#animal protection#animal protection movement#Stop Dog Meat Trade#save animals#rescue animals#Wendy Higgins#China#United Kingdom#Lincolnshire#animal shelter#dog rehabilitation
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Midnight Pals: Lifestyles of the Rich and Dog
Poe: it’s awful nice of dean Koontz to invite us over for a picnic, eh, guys? Dario Argento: I hope he made lots of spaghetti!!! [approaching luxurious manor house, entrance flanked by 2 stone golden retrievers]
Dean Koontz: [wearing smoking jacket and holding pipe] oh hello! I didn’t see you there Koontz: I’m dean Koontz, welcome to my temporary 12,000-square-foot home Koontz: I call it “koontzland” Koontz: c’mon in! let me show you around Koontz: [blow bubbles on pipe]
Koontz: this where I removed the indoor pool to install a dog park Koontz: this where I removed a library to install a dog park Koontz: this where I removed a candy room to install a dog park Koontz: and this is where I removed a 4 foot fence to install another dog park
Koontz: this is just my temporary house, my main one is being renovated Koontz: I’m going to have it made into the shape of a giant fire hydrant Koontz: to celebrate my love of dogs!! Koontz: you guys, I just love dogs so much
Koontz: this is my dogetarium Koontz: it’s like an aquarium but for dogs Barker: wow you really like dogs Koontz: like dogs? I love dogs!! Koontz: this is my private dog café Koontz: I’ve got every kind of dog here Koontz: schnauzers, spitzes, terriers Koontz: retrievers, hounds, teacups Barker: that’s a lot of dogs Koontz: oh you can’t have too many dogs Barker: that’s clearly too many dogs Koontz: no expense is too big for my dogs! Koontz: I have a private French chef working on new pizzle recipes for them Koontz: and I had all my toilets filled with perrier Koontz: and my next horror book is going to be written exclusively for the dog audience Koontz: it’s about a vacuum cleaner that’s really loud Dean Koontz: I want you guys to all meet the love of my life, Gerda Gerda Koontz: hi! Hi! Hi!! Oh boy! Visitors!! Dean Koontz: settle down girl! Ha ha Gerda Koontz: [licking Koontz’s face] what’d you bring me? What’d you bring me???
Dean Koontz: you know, gerda really started my writing career Dean Koontz: she said that if I wrote for 5 yrs, she'd support me Barker: oh really? How’d you support him? Gerda Koontz: oh you know Gerda Koontz: herding sheep, pulling sleds, rescuing hikers lost in the alps Gerda Koontz: just normal stuff
#midnight pals#the midnight society#midnight society#clive barker#edgar allan poe#dean koontz#gerda koontz#dario argento
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TV tonight: Our highlights for Sunday, June 25 On TV tonight, Van Der Valk continues, it's the last in the nature series Spy in the Ocean, there's a new series of Hudson & Rex and more from Glastonbury. Here's what you shouldn't miss on TV Tonight.Our hand-selected recommendations for what's on TV tonight include TV shows, a film, live sport and the latest trending need-to-binge-on-now box set Keep up to date with the latest soap spoiler storylines on TV tonight with our daily soap synopsis For more information about what’s on TV tonight see our TV GuideWhat's on TV tonightOur expert TV journalists have picked the best things on TV tonight... Best TV shows on TV tonightVan Der Valk season 3, 8 pm, ITV1When a museum employee is found brutally murdered, links are made to a notorious crime dating back 20 years. Commissaris Piet Van der Valk (Marc Warren) and Inspector Lucienne Hassell (Maimie McCoy) are on the case in this second of three episodes, and they discover a sinister connection between the victim and a distressing investigation that Piet worked on as a junior detective in Rotterdam. Meanwhile, new recruits Eddie and Citra get an insight into their boss’s personal life when they find Piet nursing a hangover from hell and witness his ex-girlfriend Lina barge into a work meeting! ★★★★ TLSpy in the Ocean, 7 pm, BBC One(Image credit: BBC/John Downer Productions/Didier Noirot)Prepare for some nail-biting moments as tonight’s final episode sees the sub-aquatic spy creatures witnessing the many dangers of the ocean. From a distressed seal calf searching for its mother on a crowded beach to a helpless crab being knocked out of action by the punch of a peacock mantis shrimp, this concluding episode is full of struggles for survival – some of which involve the spy creatures themselves! When spy iguana comes unstuck during a storm, our beloved spy octopus looks set to be swept away, too – until a last-minute rescue at the hands (or rather tentacles) of an old friend… ★★★★★ SPHudson & Rex, 7 pm, AlibiThis long-running Canadian cop show has two great assets – the stunning Newfoundland backdrop and the redoubtable Rex, the titular crime-solving canine played by German Shepherd Diesel. The fifth series opens with a missing-persons case that turns into a murder investigation, during which the cops are being hounded – no pun intended – to convict the boyfriend of the deceased. ★★★ IMGlastonbury, 5 pm, BBC One, BBC Two(Image credit: Harry Durrant/Getty Images)This year’s Glastonbury Festival comes to a close tonight, with headliner Elton John taking to the Pyramid Stage (9pm, BBC One). The veteran singer’s first appearance at Worthy Farm will be the final UK set of his last-ever tour, and as Elton himself has said, ‘This is the most wonderful way to sign off in England.’ Expect some A-list special guests and a set list crammed with hits such as Rocket Man and Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. Earlier, you can see Rick Astley and Blondie (5pm, BBC One), while the much-loved Legends slot this year is filled by Yusuf aka Cat Stevens (6pm, BBC Two). Other highlights today include Queens of the Stone Age, Becky Hill, Gilbert O’ Sullivan and Candi Staton. ★★★★ JPBest box set on TV tonightBlack Mirror season 6, Netflix(Image credit: Nick Wall/Netflix)It’s four years since we last saw Charlie Brooker’s tech-based anthology series – and now it’s back for series six. There’s a great cast, with Aaron Paul and Josh Hartnett starring in an episode called Beyond the Sea set in 1969 about two men on a hi-tech mission, while British stars John Hannah and Monica Dolan’s story sees them in a Scottish town with dark secrets. Other stars include Industry’s Myha’la Herrold, plus Paapa Essiedu, Annie Murphy and Salma Hayek Pinault. NC Best film on TV tonightMatilda the Musical, Netflix(Image credit: Way to Blue)This 2022 adaptation of Tim Minchin’s award-winning musical, based on the book by Roald Dahl, is as charming and delightful as fans would hope (Minchin’s Matilda has been a huge hit in London’s West End and on Broadway). Emma Thompson steals the show as the terrible Miss Trunchbull, headteacher at the strict, austere school attended by Matilda Wormwood (newcomer Alisha Weir, who’s terrific), with the stellar cast also including Stephen Graham and Andrea Riseborough as Matilda’s uncaring parents and Lashana Lynch as sympathetic teacher Miss Honey. ★★★★★ JPLive SportLive MLB: St Louis Cardinals v Chicago Cubs, 2 pm, BT Sport 1 If you watch just one thing on TV tonight…Don't miss Van Der Valk on TV tonight.Not found anything you want to watch on TV tonight? Check out our TV Guide. Happy viewing! [ad_2] Read More
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thanks bro!!
Do you have a pet?
- I have three dogs! A black lab boxer mix named Mojo, an Australian Sheep Dog and cattle dog mix named Bird, and a basset hound beagle mix named FiFi. They are all rescues, and Bird and FiFi were rescued from a puppy mill! My family has a huge soft spot for mama dogs.
Comfort food?
- Sour candy, and guacamole! But not together.
How many languages do you speak?
- I'm only fluent in English, but I'm an intermediate French speaker and I'm slowly but surely learning Tagalog.
Random fact about yourself
- I was on an episode of NCIS when I was a baby! Me and my twin sister played the babies whose mother was killed on Season 3, the episode called "Light Sleeper". I guess you could say I've always been an actress, but the real reason we did it is because my mom wanted to meet the cast LMAO
Something you’re proud of
- I've stopped weighing myself, and I am doing amazing in my eating disorder recovery in the sense that I've stopped associating my worth with the shape of my body, and I have started advocating for fat liberation and against diet culture because diet culture almost killed me, and I will not let it happen to anybody else on my watch!
No pressure tags: @cavalrysystem @aquarian-airhead @diamondwind99 @egret-orchids
Tag game because I want to know you better !
-Do you have a pet ?
-Comfort food ?
-How many languages do you speak ?
- Random fact about yourself
-Something you’re proud of
To begin this little tag game, I’ll tag @ebony-reine-vibes @freddie-77-ao3 @newobsessioneveryweek @thehaikuman and @miraclesnail
I hope the questions aren’t boring and love you all 😘
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From Scream Queen to Lady Badass: An Evolution of Women in Horror by: Ray Van Horn, Jr. Is there anything more cringeworthy in the horror genre than the unfashionable damsel in distress trope? It’s a hard sway from today’s horror scene, which has at least given actresses a 50/50 chance of being cast as sexpot butcher bait or given a more motivating assignment of kicking evil’s ass. Or in the contemporary cases of Toni Collette in Hereditary or Lupita Nyong’o in Us, redefining what women can do to the genre, much less for it. As long as Betty Crocker and Hoover appliances were bleakly tagged upon the kitchen-bound stereotypes of women in pop culture, devaluation of females in horror was likewise an interminable norm. Let’s face the facts; horror films of yesteryear were seldom rewarding to their leading ladies, especially being outnumbered for work 3 to 1 by the men. Bad enough those women lucky enough to be cast into a protagonist position in 1950s and later, Eighties horror, were often disposable eye candy. Females of the drive-in days of the Fabulous Fifties were scripted to divvy just enough common-sense motherly dialogue to ferry the B-level masculine drivel overruling them. This, as muscleheads in rubber suits, werewolves the palest shade of Lon Chaney, Jr. and stop-motion clay monsters sent women of the Fifties into extreme closeup mode, shrieking their guts out. Frozen in place for seconds until they were either rescued by alpha intervention or they disappeared from the story altogether offscreen. In either scenario, done so without a fight. You just know the ancient warrior goddesses Sekhmet, Hel, Athena and Freya were face-palming themselves at the hapless (and hopeless) sight of these pin curled, Victory rolled “scream queens.” You can catch a plethora of black and white horror nuggets on your own or to the tune of Svengoolie’s loveable cornball drag. For those who grew up watching Universal monster flicks and the 1950s atomic age romps via their local ghost host emcees on late Saturday nights, Sven (aka Rich Koz) is a horror hound’s security blanket. Those monochromatic oldies but goodies he peddles from the Fifties through the early Sixties remain timid by today’s extreme standards. Yet the bigger offense lurking from those often-gaudy terrors from the beyond lies more in the way women who weren’t Barbara Steele or Beverly Garland were portrayed. From that golden age of nuclear-fused lizards, ten story arachnoid, gelatinous daubs of doom, wetland creatures and bulbous-eyed aliens spewed the brainless stereotype of women-in-peril. Even if a female lead of 1950s horror was given a quasi-glamorous occupation such as laboratory assistant, naval yeoman or, heaven forbid, a department manager, chances are, she would be there to offer her two cents, only to be shot down instead of offered a rifle (much less trained to use one) to help the boys in one of their suicide missions. As long as scream queens of the Fifties could screech louder than Little Richard and torch the screen with more conflagration than a McCarthy-ist burning of old EC Tales From the Crypt comics, this was all of which was required of women in horror. This, along with a random appearance pushing an Electrolux vacuum in a full dress and high heels during commercial breaks for Ed Sullivan and Milton Berle. It’s no wonder a young Patty McCormack in the titular The Bad Seed from 1956 shook the world she lived in as an unforgettable, horrific little badass of her time. Far more insidious than easily irritable Bill Mumy from the “It’s a Good Life” episode from The Twilight Zone. McCormack’s glaring eyes of silent condemnation and her manipulative wares were a low-key but unnerving announcement of a new order slow to come. McCormack represents one of the early-on female horror survivalists. If you want to really stretch the truth, we can go back as far as 1939’s The Wizard of Oz to pinpoint one of horror’s first female survivalists.
Think about it. I mean, sure, Oz is a G-rated family classic, so much it used to run faithfully every year on network t.v. on Thanksgiving night. Yeah, the flying monkeys were scary enough to any twerp born before 1990. The same with those jerkface trees pelting our yellow brick-skipping heroes with apples. The freaking Wicked Witch of the West, though…man was she so sinister, we took feral delight in Dorothy’s dispatching her with a bucket of water. All to help her newfound, combusted friend made of straw. It was an act of courage not even the quivering lion had inside of him at that decisive moment heroes are born. Pin the medal on Judy Garland instead. Boop-oop-a-doop? Oh, hell no. Betty may have had cartoon perverts to fend off, but she never had had to turn tables, much less escape a subterranean death circus from cannibalizing, brain-sledging chainsaw freaks like Caroline Williams did. When we think about how far women have come in the entertainment realm, it’s action and horror where ladies have staked far more equality than any other movie genre, much less any other industry. Gal Gadot, Scarlet Johansson, Letitia Wright, Brie Larson, Eva Green and Margot Robbie have defined ultimate femme badassness in the comic book adaptation turf. The organizers of the Women’s Rights Movement are no doubt smiling from the other side. Yet I’m sure those in attendance on that fateful day on August 2, 1848 in Seneca Falls could never have foreseen the likes of Jamie Lee Curtis, Sigourney Weaver, Marilyn Burns, Danai Gurira, Adrienne King, Heather Langenkamp, Jessica Walter, Glenn Close, Essie Davis, Kyleigh Curran, Megumi Okina, Eihi Shiina, Shauna MacDonald, Caroline Williams, Camille Keaton, Sarah Butler, Neve Campbell, Millie Bobbie Brown, Milla Jovovich and many bold, badass ladies moving the horror genre forward in a pro-estrogen rebellion. The theme of badass women of horror has become such a hot topic in the mainstream media everyone has their own Top 10 or 20 lists, most of the aforementioned filling their ranks. In this case, I’m talking about women of the genre who have either the natural skill set or the raw nerve to persevere through the ordeals of physical or psychological terror. This could be Michonne, Sasha, Maggie or Carol from The Walking Dead, which has prided itself, in comic book and television form, of depicting its women with a stoic resolve to dispatch both zombies and pissant human aggressors who get in their way of seeing the next sunrise. The Walking Dead as a show has become so mainstream its protagonists are as abundant and sadly throwaway as Game of Thrones, yet each show has more memorable, tough women to possibly give the late Rush Limbaugh reason to rue the day he first uttered “femi-Nazi.” For that matter, the topsy-turvy world of Stranger Things proves a woman’s worth standing in defiance against an otherworldly cataclysm, even those non-bioengineered girls deprived of the gift of telekinesis. While we’re at it, we can give the entire ensemble of The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (the show and the dark Archie comic book it was bred upon) a huge nod for its women exhibiting even more moxy than its male leads. We can wince in pain at the unnerving twittering of Asami Yamazaki’s (Eihi Shiina) methodic and excruciating piano wire torturing of Ryo Ishibashi in Audition, made worse knowing Yamazaki’s black widow act is simply how she gets by in life. We can roar in triumph at Suzy Bannon’s (Jessica Harper) sleuthing and exterminating of Madame Blanc’s ballet school of the occult in 1977’s redder than red prototype version of Suspiria. Take your pick who had the better outing in Cat People: Simone Simon in 1942 or Natasha Kinksi in the erotic remake forty years later. Both well ahead of their times. Even though it doesn’t go well for her in the end, not a soul who’s ever watched the original Carrie would not cheer for her. Stephen King’s debut novel will always
stand the test of time despite the famous legend of his wife, Tabitha, rescuing the manuscript from the trash before it became the timeless adolescent tragedy it is. Everyone enduring the high school experience, particularly those who were persecuted, not only wants Carrie White to triumph over her tormentors, but they welcome Carrie’s phoenix-like evolution into a walking Hell on Earth. She should’ve survived, fairness rules applying. Despite becoming a murderess, we wanted Carrie White to live, despite her volatile Catholic guilt dictating otherwise. Nobody playing her in the many adaptations of Carrie displayed both her fragility and fury better than Sissy Spacek in 1976. The same with her film mother, Piper Laurie, as the bible-thrashing Margaret White. Horror, much less film in general, had never seen the likes of either. Powerful performances of powerful women doomed to meet and die in each other’s arms at the gates of purgatory. The transition in horror over the next couple decades from laughable shlock like The Crawling Eye to roles planting aggressive women at the forefront of the story like Repulsion, The Exorcist, Psycho, Rosemary’s Baby, Play Misty For Me, Eyes Without a Face and Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? showed women possess as dark as a side as any man, given provocation, wherewithal, stamina and/or supernatural elements guiding a chemical shakeup. It would take most of the 1980s to catch back up to this trailblazing thesis after one film both revolutionized the role of a woman as survivalist and, unfortunately, exploited the subversive titillation factor which the decade ran mad with: John Carpenter’s original Halloween. When we think of the quintessential female badass of horror, the de facto crown goes straight to Jamie Lee Curtis. An idol to many as a pillar of strength, Curtis is still today a statuesque frame of feminine perfection as the stock of Hollywood royalty (Tony Curtis and Janet Leigh). As horror’s top-reigning “scream queen,” we’ve enjoyed Jamie Lee’s comeuppance through the horror genre as the iconic foil to her pasty-face masked nemesis (and her one-time brother before the age of retcon), Michael Myers, in the Halloween series. Curtis also appeared in lesser-discussed horror pieces like Terror Train and the original versions of The Fog and Prom Night before heading toward comedy, drama and action films and later, as an author of children’s books. An unparalleled leader of women. We all fell in love with Jamie Lee Curtis as extemporal babysitter Laurie Strode in her original run in 1978, where she was more on the lam in nerve-wracking pursuit by Myers. Yet it was that ironbound instinct inside of Laurie Strode which made us applaud her. Laurie Strode has already been on edge, convinced she’s being stalked through the first half hour of Halloween. When this manifests into its ugliest form, Strode’s early-on maternal instincts kick in to protect her elementary-aged charges in the face of sure slaughter. Down the road, an older Laurie Strode would have a satisfying return grudge match against Michael Myers in 1998’s Halloween: H20, only to go balls-out against him in 2018 in a wholly re-imagined Halloween which delivered the goods—even if its successors, Halloween Kills and Halloween Ends were insufferable wastes of Curtis’ talents. Give it to Curtis, though; all the Halloween movies she’s appeared in, nobody’s handed Michael Myers his sadistic ass more times, notwithstanding the inglorious Halloween: Resurrection. While Halloween took the next step in horror evolution which Curtis’ own mother staked in 1960’s Psycho, the true dawn of the slasher film stepped out of the throttled safety zone of an idyllic suburbia and dropped with a creepy echo of ki ki ki…ma ma ma… into an equally tranquil summer camp via 1980’s Friday the 13th. Horror in the Eighties feasted on a rowdy diet of gore one-uppance, boob flashing, marijuana glorification and, of course, women largely existing to be chopped as objects of subjugated meat.
Things have come a long way since Slumber Party Massacre. The Friday the 13th series, which was party time at the cinema for my generation, did redefine a woman’s place inside a slasher pic, albeit with caveats, which the original Scream righteously called shade upon. Adrienne King, Amy Steel, Dana Kimmell and later down the line, Lar Park Lincoln, were all survivors of their bloodthirsty attackers. None of them have sex inside their respective first, second, third and seventh films. I do issue further caveats that King dies in the beginning of Friday the 13th Part 2 (like this is a spoiler?) and it’s presumed Steel had off-camera sex with her boyfriend, Paul, while Kimmell testifies to a glorious love affair with her love interest, Rick, who instantly looks to have a return slip of the sausage upon their reunion in Part III. King tokes the ganja in the original Friday, but cutting slack to all of these ladies, each of them ran for their lives with the knife’s edge in their wake, yet all them delivered savage responses to their assaulters. Only King gets the distinction of putting Mama Voorhees (the incomparable Betsy Palmer whom I had the joy of interviewing for Metal Maniacs magazine) down permanently. Should we give Palmer props for being one of the genre’s first serial killers? Absolutely, even if it’s gore maestro Tom Savini doing the stalking, laughing out loud. Though as Betsy told me and other interviewers, she did Friday the 13th strictly to get the money to a buy a new car to move forward in life. Pamela Voorhees unintentionally became bigger than her, and Betsy Palmer has already been a household name on Candid Camera, I’ve Got a Secret, Studio One in Hollywood and The Goodyear Playhouse. One of the few heralded women of 1950s entertainment. Sigourney Weaver showed the world what one woman left to fend for herself and a cat could do on a space freighter as huge as a Scottish castle, all of her shipmates mauled, in 1978’s Alien, one the most calamitous sci-fi/horror hybrids imagined. Weaver’s Lt. Ellen Ripley is one of the hallmarks of cinematic achievements for the advancement of women, even more so for her grunt-like manhandling of the ostensible xenomorphs in the gangbusters 1986 sequel, Aliens. Ripley became such a household name of feminine muscularity Aliens director James Cameron had no choice but to buff up his darling on-the-run Sarah Connor into a female survivalist who could stand tall in the cumbersome shadow of Arnold Schwarzenegger for the senses-raking Terminator 2: Judgment Day. If you’re talking women who just wouldn’t take it anymore, there was Farrah Fawcett in the harrowing made-for-television retaliation piece The Burning Bed. Mother’s Day from 1980 was a sick yet appropriately gruesome revenge yarn in which two of three kidnapped women get vicious payback upon two horse-faced rapists and their appalling mother. The Drano down Ike’s throat bit remains one of the most rewarding moments of the decade’s kill scenes. Yet there are five words in the horror lexicon most fans think of when it comes to female-dished retribution. I Spit On Your Grave has turned from a cult exploitation film in 1978 to a torture porn phenomenon via its 2010 remake. Both Camille Keaton and Sarah Butler endured onscreen depravity beyond what any well-paid actress in Hollywood would accept. There’s suffering for your art, and there’s what these two ladies endured, spending a large chunk of their respective films’ running times naked in grueling, wooded conditions. Butler herself gave me a candid recount of what it took from her to shoot the Spit remake in an interview we did in 2010, hours after I received the screener for review. The payoff for Keaton and Butler’s brutalized characters presents some of the grisliest get-backs ever portrayed on film. Gore geeks delight in Sarah Butler’s revenge, i.e. feeding one of her attackers his own castrated member and plugging the unscrupulous sheriff’s butt with his own shotgun.
The original I Spit On Your Grave and its direct remake exists as warnings there are repercussions to sexual cruelty, in particular against women. The 2010 version has such a rabid fan base it makes “Films You Must See Before You Die” lists. Only the atrocities flung throughout Cannibal Holocaust and The Human Centipede provide more discomfiture. Stephen King, the master of the macabre, has given us a rich pantheon of horror heroes and villains for more nearly 50 years, and amongst his most memorable female survivalists would be Donna Trenton in Cujo (brought to vivid, tragic believability by Dee Wallace Stone in the movie adaptation), Beverly Marsh from It, even Wendy Torrance, who was far stronger in King’s novel than Shelley Duvall’s often cherished mousy interpretation. Rose the Hat and Abra Stone in Doctor Sleep are survivalists in their own way, though approaching their ideals and one another from opposite sides of the morality line. Then there’s Jessie Burlingame’s cuffed ordeal in the just-wrong Gerald’s Game. Let’s not forget the more recent “Gwendy” trilogy shared in writing between King and his trusted collaborator, Richard Chizmar. Gwendy has become a figurative pillar of strength throughout her narrative, having thrust upon her an enchanted button box filled with temptation and the means to end our entire world. Survival of the human race pending one woman’s scruple set put to a prolonged test. We can talk about Heather Langenkamp, aka Nancy from the Nightmare On Elm Street movies as one of the genre’s definitive badass lady survivalists, since she’s gone dream-to-dream against the original knives-out badboy, Freddy Krueger three times along with appearances in Shocker, Home, Sub, Truth or Dare and Hellraiser: Judgment. Is there anything more satisfying in than watching Neve Campbell match wits against all of the Ghost Faces she’s had thrust upon her in the Scream flicks? In the video game world, Lara Croft is recognized as the leading female badass for the Tomb Raider series, which may be more in the action realm, yet there are plenty of horror elements Croft faces down. Claire Redfield is perhaps video game’s CGI poster babe from the Resident Evil series, but never eff with her. The lady knows her way around weaponry as much as Ghost from Call of Duty. Ellie from The Last of Us games has evolved into a zombie-chewing grinder in her adult life and her character has pushed the envelope with her sexuality. Ellie is finding even greater life through HBO’s excellent new adaptation series. The gamers may hate on the televised version, but the horror fans are wonky for The Last of Us. While ladies in horror comic books have long been demoted in much the same fashion as those ‘50s B movies, go back and dive into the EC horror classics like Tales From the Crypt, The Vault of Horror and The Haunt of Fear. The ladies may be lovesick saps at times, but more often than not, they’re just as, if even more conniving than the male antagonists. Revenge-driven stories are galore in those deliciously gross vignettes. Most of the horror hijinks are calculated by women, either for selfish gain or they’re just plain nuts; or on the flipside, they’re receiving justice keeper assistance from the grave. If you’re a horror hound, the name Vampirella is second-to-none when it comes to vampirism lore. Yeah, she dashes around in thongs and that goofy collared sling barely keeping her top goodies shelved. Part of the sexual revolution of the 1970s in which she was born. Sleaze factor aside, Vampi is still a badass mama who’ll rip you apart, demon, vamp or fiend, and she’s in rowdy company with her monster maven cohorts, Pantha and Draculina. Vampi is now celebrating 50 years, the nonpareil survivalist of comic book nosferatu. Other longtime women haunting comics are Lady Death, Purgatori, Avengelyne, Jennifer Blood, Sara Pezzini, aka the Witchblade and of course, the imitable Goth goddess from The Sandman books, Death.
Perhaps one of the most memorable images in horror not yet mentioned is the final moments of The Descent, one of the greatest modern horror films along with Let Me In/Let The Right One In, It Follows, Hereditary, Get Out and Us. I sat there thunderstuck my first time watching The Descent once Sarah (Shauna MacDonald) finally escapes her spelunking trip gone disastrous. The story already set up with the calamity Sarah’s endured from the loss of her family in the beginning of the story, her bloody climb out of the caves with her friends lost to her, the sting of betrayal and those cave mutants in hot pursuit is exhausting. Especially if you’re claustrophobic and managed to make it all the way through the film. The way Sarah speeds away crying with David Julyan’s heartbreaking score whirling overtop her anguish…it’s one of the most humanistic scenes of shattered continued existence ever conceived. We’ve seen female lycanthrope shred their victims in The Howling movies and we’ve seen gals lay booby traps even John Rambo would geek over in You’re Next. Samara Weaving had the wool pulled over her eyes on her wedding night, but she served her new in-laws in the often hilarious Ready or Not. Danai Gurira is a beacon of strength for women, not only as Michonne Hawthorne, but also as Dora Milaje general Okoye in the Black Panther films. The ladies have finally found their voice in horror, and it’s not just a high-pitched falsetto to the tune of dark fate. Emily Blunt spoke volumes without having to use hers hardly at all in both A Quiet Place films. Naomi Harris’ handiwork with a machete in 28 Days Later? It sang a sanguinary tune that women in horror have become simply bad…ass…
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Yeehawgust Day 29: Jolene
He’d known the new volunteer, Mary-Beth Gaskill, was a Dolly Parton fan. She made no secret of it, and if anyone dared to say even one thing against Saint Dolly or her music, the dreamy demeanor disappeared and showed that this kitten did indeed have some claws.
Not that Arthur disliked some Dolly himself. Good music, great philanthropy to boot. But looking at the tags on the kennels as he did the initial morning walk, all the shelters in the county probably hurrying to take on some of the dogs from the recent puppy mill bust, no matter how full they already were, he saw that the six they’d gotten had come in under Mary-Beth’s watch. He and Sadie had been off for the weekend camping, so this now was the first he’d seen of the new arrivals. Consequently, the Ambarino Animal Shelter now offered for adoption a rather interesting musical assortment alongside the eight they’d already had. All of them mixes of goldenlabradoodleschnorgihund or whatever the hell it was, and in his mind the crime of trying to charge a thousand bucks for a fancy name for what amounted to a mutt–and nothing wrong with mutts at all, best dogs he’d ever had–paled alongside all the crimes that came from running a puppy mill. An ethical misdemeanor, as it were. But he hated it nonetheless. Because honestly, that sort of thing was how puppy mills thrived, seeing they could charge hefty prices for a mix if they just slapped some cutesy portmanteau on as a supposed breed. People would pay for it, so the mills would just keep on churning.
At least these six would be cared for now. All of them some kind of hound and retriever mix, if he had to guess, with maybe some terrier from the beard on one
So with treats and kind words, he said hello to Hard Candy Christmas, Nine to Five, Coat of Many Colors, Islands In The Stream, I Will Always Love You…
Well, at least she hadn’t gone for Why’d You Come In Here Looking Like That. That would just be a little too close to home for the poor newly rescued dogs with their sad eyes, ragged coats, and too-thin flanks.
The last one, in the kennel at the end, offered him her plush bunny toy and wagged her tail furiously. “Hey there, Jolene.” Of course there had to be a Jolene. Of course. Though given her fur was reddish, he supposed it fit.
Candy, Niner, Coaty, Island, Jolene, and Iwaly–they’d had a hell of a time coming up with a good call name for that poor boy–settled in more and more as the days went on. They were so hungry for love, in that way that had once broken his heart, but he’d seen it so much now that it no longer shattered him, but only made him ache for them, and love them all the harder for it. Telling them that they were safe now, that they’d have people that would treat them right. That they’d gotten out of hell and it would only improve.
The capacity of an animal to still find a way to so earnestly trust and love after so much of a shitty life never failed to amaze him, and make him think there had to be something good in the world.
Jolene especially seemed to attach to him. Sometimes as firm as velcro, at that, but she was such a sweet soul he could hardly deny her. Even when her frisking around him sometimes, delighted at walks and the fresh air and the outdoors, threatened to hogtie him at the ankles with the leash. How could he deny her?
Sadie, heading into the shelter, saw the two of them out for another walk and just laughed. “How’s the girlfriend, Arthur?”
Jolene headed over to Sadie, tail waving about as fast as an airplane propeller. Arthur might be her favorite human, but Sadie was a close second. “Good, good.”
“Now, I’d worry that Jolene might have come in and taken my man, true to form,” Sadie teased, reaching down to tousle Jolene’s floppy ears, “but hell, I can’t even be mad at her.”
“She does make it impossible to be pissed off at her.”
“Unlike your human girlfriend.”
“You do make it possible to be pissed off at you. Possible, and fun.”
She grinned and winked at him. “Likewise, Mr. Morgan.” She gave Jolene another scratch. “Tell your boyfriend that he needs to hurry up and adopt you. All three of us know you aren’t going home with anyone else.”
He’d been thinking of it, given how attached she was, and how much he’d come to adore her. And he’d been without a dog for over a year now, since he’d lost Copper. But hearing Sadie say it that casually told him she was on board too. “Well, then. Welcome to the family, Jolene.”
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pastry cookie with cake puppies, i can imagen them getting very attached to pastry
:) (Set after Pastry leaves the St. Pastry Order and Red Velvet doesn't trust her)
*the scene is set in the Pure Lily Cookie Kingdom home, where Pastry is babysitting Custard III. All because Madeleine has something to do that he nearly forgot.*
Madeleine: Thank you again for watching Custard Cream last minute, Pastry.
Pastry: Of course. I do not mind helping out. Besides, I can't say no to the future king, can I?
Custard III: *Giggles* Aw! Thank you, Miss. Pastry!
Madeleine: Perfect! Now I must get going! Please make yourself comfortable and I'll be back in an hour or two. *mutters* Hopefully.
*Madeleine leaves and the duo starts playing king. It was not long until small yips could be heard.*
Pastry: What was that?
Custard III: Oh! That's most likely the Cake Pups that Red Velvet rescued. We need to feed them! Would you like to see them?
Pastry: *hesitantly* Oh...um...sure. Let's go.
*Custard III leads Pastry to the kitchen where all forty Cake Pups are in a playpen, ready to eat.*
Pastry: O-oh my! That's a lot of Cake Pups.
Custard III: Yeah! Red Velvet wants to make sure that the Cake Pups are stronger before going to a new home. He does go overboard a bit. But it's fine! Time to feed them!!
*Custard III tries to grab a bag full of candy bones that's twice his size. Pastry stops him and takes the bag instead.*
Pastry: How about you get the bowls instead?
*later, Red Velvet comes home with the Pure Lily Cake Hounds. He notices Custard III drawing with a few Cake pups around him.*
Red Velvet: Hey kiddo. Where's Madeleine?
Custard III: *Without looking up* Hey Red Velvet. He had an errand to do. So he left me with Miss. Pastry Cookie.
Red Velvet: *on the verge of popping a vessel* And where is she?
Custard III: She's in the backyard with the other pups.
*In an instant, Red Velvet is running toward the backyard, ready to fight. However, when he reaches there, he sees something he wasn't expecting.*
Pastry: Now, now. You'll make a mess of yourselves! Please sit!
*All the remaining Cake Pups are surrounding Pastry, begging for her attention. Every step she takes, the Cake Pups follow as if she was their mother. Red Velvet can't help but be impressed.*
Red Velvet: Well, well, well. I guess even the former gnat of St. Pastry Order can't win against the Cake Pups.
Pastry: *jumps and yells* How long have you been there?!
Red Velvet: Long enough to know that you might become their mother. *starts calling over the Cake Pups, only one, a milk Cake Pup, still staying with Pastry.*
Pastry: *blushes* I...I was just trying to let them stretch their legs a bit. But they won't leave my side.
Red Velvet: They do get excited when they see a new Cookie. But that one is interesting. She usually stays away from Cookies but me.
Pastry: Really? *pats the Pup*
Red Velvet: Yes. There's something about you that she likes and trusts. *smiles at the Pup* You might be perfect for her.
*Pastry blushes a bit. Red Velvet realizing what he said starts back peddling.*
Red Velvet: But don't think that'll let you off the hook! I still don't trust you with my young soldiers!
*Pastry smiles a bit and walks over to him. She places a hand on his cake shoulder and gives a gentle smile.*
Pastry: Of course. But thank you for the compliment.
*Red Velvet could hear his chest beat a thousand miles per hour. Later that night, he's staring at his ceiling and wondering what had happened.*
Red Velvet: Am I...oh no. *blushes*
#cookie run kingdom#crk headcanons#red velvet cookie#madeleine cookie#custard cookie the third#pastry cookie#red velvet x pastry
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@daily-writing-challenge February 21, Day 2
(TW for canon-typical violence, manipulation and implied sexual content)
February 21, Day 2. Protect — Fray
"What's the big fuss all 'bout?"
It was no use. No matter how intently he listened, he didn't understand a single word the buzzing swarms of his brethren let out. Concern. Ire, even. That was all he picked up from his spot right behind Kayn, who discussed, animatedly, matters he couldn't quite grasp.
"Ah, Suncaller. Just in time. Your sister was aiding Darkweaver with procedures to drive back the demons. You will be tasked with rescuing civilians from the Exodar."
Sarcyon nodded. Unlike him to ignore orders from his superior! The Slayer had bid Kayn, and he would obey the both of them.
Lap dog.
"What's the plan, boss?"
-
He was debriefed in simple and straightforward terms: his favorite way, if anyone cared to ask him, to receive orders. And just as he was instructed, he wanted the Pack. Capital P.
Those were the most trusted canine-bound Illidari, and he had the honor of being one of their ambassadors, and leaders. Perhaps from his achievement and antiquity in the order, or perhaps out of a revering fear of the demon he'd been bound to. Whatever the reason, the Pack's triumvirate (bound to a Gloomhound, a Demonic Core Hound, and himself to a Charhound) was obeyed and assisted by a swath of eager, skillful souls, but it didn't stop there.
They looked after one another like members of a clan, or a family. Where Illidari loyalty ran thick, Pack loyalty was unbreakable, forged in bonds of heightened gregarious spirit granted by the shards of canine souls embedded into theirs.
They were a highly efficient group, as they operated on trust and experience. Simply put, a bad idea did not pass the Pack council. If any member suggested a suicide mission, there was an immediate disagreement that resulted in a better plan. Despite there being a ruling position, every concern was given equal voice and discussed, and for this matter they utilized not Demonic or Common, but Wolf. Snarls, howls, barks and body language, as well as some odor cues made for fast and nuanced communication. Again, highly efficient.
The Pack was dispatched, and the sounds of hooves and claws beating on the ground filled the Exodar. Some of the injured Draenei thought them heralds of more demonic demise, but their friendly, eagerly helpful disposition was welcome with open arms when given the chance to show it. Hounds tended to their wounds, and the people quickly saw that these trained doglike warriors would jump in harm's way even if only to buy them time. Luckily, they were also savage fighters, goring enemies like it was little more than a dance to them. Even a dreadguard fell with ease to their practised formation.
"Thank you…" a draenei woman said in a choked up cry as she looked up at Sarcyon with tearful eyes. He cauterized her hand, or what was left of it after being trampled by a scared Elekk, using the heated palm of his hand, and let his scaled body shift with metamorphic growth, allowing her to safely ride on his scaled back. His horns and mane offered concealment and protection, and he evacuated five other injured civilians along with her.
"Voidmaw, secure this hall. Sniff around for any survivor we've missed," he barked at the beastly Hunter to his left, whose demonic form served as a bulwark for more than a dozen scared children while five howling Felstalkers gutted a doomguard with glaives and claws alike.
The day was won for the pack. Nobody expected any less of them.
-
Have you ever thought of seizing power? You could be much more than a complacent puppy.
They don't listen to you. It is me they fear. I made you.
Everything you are now you owe to me. You are a man by my grace. Our pact-
"Shut UP about the pact! Y'got enough."
You lie to yourself and to all of them. Worse than that, you are deluded. Not a leader but a frontman. Digestible. Stupid eye candy. They keep you around like one keeps a well-groomed pedigree whelp; not out of respect, not for use. For looks. Among brutes with bloodstained bare paws, you keep yours clean. Sanitized.
"I'll show you clean."
The Pack often indulged, all together. Ritualized. Paramount orgies of bloodshed and licentiousness designed to quieten the baying of hedonistic demons. This would be one such night.
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I might have a hoarding problem... plz help ;_;
I’m going to damn die crushed by the mountain of keys.
But! I hoard cards too, so I have plenty of unread Devilgrams... like, all of them are left unread.
So plz help. I’ll make a silly bad summary of the Devilgram of your choice! Or commentary. Or whatever you want me to write about them.
Available Devilgrams here, there’s plenty:
Lucifer: Seven Rulers of Hell, Lucifer the Demon of Rock. All are available with the exception of An Adorable Hound, Pandamonium, Happy Hounted Houses, A Brief Respite, Spray Paint, Emergency Date Mission, Before the Big Day, Greed and Pride, Lucifer’s Lover, Full of Surprises
Mammon: Pandas Mean Profit, Once Upon a Time, Mammon the Gambler, all are available with the exception of With You Always, A Chaotic Refrain, The Perfect Date, Abundant Accessories, Beach Flag Race, Even If You’re Far Sway, I’m a Business Man
Leviathan: Love, Friendship, and Justice, Levi Dreams of Sleep, The Battle Between Demons, Gotta Get That Plushie!, all are available with the exception of Ice King, Levi’s Challenges, The Game of 100 Poems, Devildom’s Top Otaku, Series End Love Does Not
Satan: A New Year’s Toast, The Flower of Love, I’ll Protect You, Through the Camera Lens, Broadcasting to You, all are availabe with the exception of Cats and Rabbits, Flea Market Love Stories.
Asmodeus: A Song from the Heart, I Want to Hug You, Catch the Lost Bunnies!, all are availanble with the exception of Asmo in the Magic Land, Time for the Main Event, Beauty Trip for Two
Beelzebub: Bunny Cafe Part-Timer, all are available with the exception of Beelzebub’s Battle, The Gluttonous Builder, A Secret Present, Thief vs. Detective, Another Cat Person
Belphegor: Hide and Seek, I Present to You...Me, all are available with the exception of The Night Before, Chocolate for You, Belphie in Wonderland, Having Oh So Much Fun, Seven Rulers of Hell
Diavolo: all are available with the exception of The Highlight of the Trip, What Makes Him Smile
Barbatos: all are available with the exception of A Butler’s Day Off
Luke: all are available with the exception of Bubbly Blue Soda
Simeon: Rain, a Fire and Simeon, all are available with the exception of Animal Tea Party, The Legend of the Stars, Rainbow of Love
Solomon: all are available with the exception of Seek a Melody, Candy and a Circus Date, Secret Paradise
Newspaper aka Memory Cards: Let Your Hair Down, all are available with the exception of Double Hide-and-Seek, Reaping Dragon Tears, Unlikely Teamwork, Mammon vs Raphael, Ancient Devildom Texts, Shutter Shenanigans, A Gothic Party, Let’s Take Photos, The Splendid Garden, Night Lantern Halloween, A Walk Together, The Chaotic Overtime, The Future and You, The Future and Memories, Connected by Rail, The New Agent’s First Gig, Let’s Have a Picnic, Marching Band March, Bunny Boy Transformation, Knitted with Love, Looking Back in the Dark, You are Me and I am Him, Clash on the Beach, Romance Royale, We Come to You Tonight, Tweedle for the Rabbit, It Is All for You Master, An Amicable Distance, Fun With Gemstones, Temptation of the Kotatsu, A Moment of Quiet, Rescue, The Award Goes To, Create Your Own Avatar, Who Toook the Pudding, Together Forever, Welcome to the Tea Party
Please help me avoid the horrible fate of being buried under the story keys ;_; don’t let the key number escalate to 1000...
#obey me!#obey me#obey me! shall we date?#story key hoarders anonymous#devilgram summaries#updated 13th of May 2022
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Easter Eggs
Pairing: Dad!Crowley & Daughter!Reader
Summary: Crowley celebrates Easter with the five-year-old princess of hell.
Triggers: None, just father/daughter fluff
Y/N = Your name | Y/E/C = Your eye colour | Y/H/C = Your hair colour
A/N: Suddenly Easter was here, and I decided to dig up an old duo that I liked writing little fluffy oneshots for! You can find all the stories with this father/daughter duo here. All these fluffy stories can be read separately from each other or together. Just fluff, no strict story-line, though I would recommend starting with Fatherhood, which has the most extensive backstory for the pair.
---
Considering his role as King of Hell, most holidays didn’t really sit right with the crossroads demon turned ruler of hell. After all, any holiday celebrating a god, be it Pagan, Christian or otherwise, wasn’t really his cup of tea. But, over the last five years Crowley had come to appreciate the joys that came along with the holidays.
Ever since his favourite hellhound, Juliet, has brought the small hiccupping bundle of joy into his life five years ago, the King of Hell’s life had been turned upside down. Including how he spent the holidays.
When Juliet had showed up on his doorstep, filled with protective maternal instinct and carefully carrying the small human baby after collecting her foolish mother’s soul, Crowley had never expected that that same little girl would become his whole world. But that was exactly what his little princess was as Crowley had decided to raise her as his own.
The king would do anything for the little girl who was in fact the true ruler of hell since the little five-year-old girl had him wrapped around her little finger. Including creating a full Easter celebration in Crowley’s brightly furnished private slice of hell. From crafts, to the bunny ears resting on her (Y/H/C) hair acting like the princess’ crown for the day.
Which was why the man that was feared by demons and humans alike was currently sitting in front of a table filled with Easter crafts as her latest Disney movie obsession played on replay in the background.
Before hell’s littlest princess had come into his life, Crowley’s hands had always done more harm than good. He’d never needed to control his strengths as he found pleasure in crushing his enemies between clenched fingers. Yet, now his hands were achingly careful as they held the empty eggshell between two fingers and carefully painted the white surface her favourite colour. His eyes only glancing up from the careful work to look over at where his little chipmunk was painting her own, much less breakable plastic egg.
A tiny pink tongue sticking out between pursed lips as (Y/E/C) bright eyes carefully added colours on the already brightly painted surface. Though, Crowley thought as he looked fondly over at his little darling girl with a warm smile, more colours were ending up on her tiny hands and the oversized shirt Crowley had put her in. His tailor would be heartbroken if he saw how the beautifully crafted white shirt had ended up as a five-year-old’s art smock.
Easter had become a yearly tradition in Crowley’s private part of hell quite quickly after his family grew to include the adorable little girl. After an Easter Disney special when she was just three years old. Which had seen the little devil putting her puppy dog eyes to good use as she begged her daddy for an Easter egg hunt of her own.
“That’s a pretty egg pet,” Crowley beamed, the pride he felt as his little girl’s father easily rivalling (and frankly beating by a mile) his pride for his role as ruler of all things wicked. His soft words breaking the little girl’s concentration as she gave him her best smile. The warm bright smile was one that was only reserved for the princess’ daddy.
“Is Eas’er!” The little girl giggled, holding up the egg with paint splattered tiny fingers as she beamed with pride of her own at her little handiwork. As if the holiday itself was depicted on the formerly white egg’s surface amid rainbow splashes of colour.
“Yes it is! And… Daddy heard that the Easter bunny was by earlier, when you had your princess nap,” Crowley stage whispered conspiratorially. As if the overgrown bunny’s apparent appearance in the small two-person family’s slice of hell was some well-guarded secret. The laugh lines he’d developed after five years with his darling girl became even more prominent as he smiled. Finally moving along their Easter celebration to what he knew was his darling girl’s favourite part; the candy.
“Eas’er bunny?” The excited squeal was half question, half jittery energy as she carefully put down her paintbrush. Bright (Y/E/C) eyes alight with wonder at the mention of the mythological fluffy bunny in a way that had Crowley certain she was picturing one of her own many teddy bears cast in the role within her own active imagination.
“Yes chipmunk. Do you think he left anything behind?” Crowley chuckled as he carefully put the final egg down with gentle fingers. Leaving it to dry as he grabbed the wet wipes next to him to clean the paint off his fingers as well as the little devil’s paint coloured… Well, everything really. Including the little streaks of paint that have inexplicably painted both her cheek and soft tendrils of her messy (Y/H/C) pigtails.
His little girl, hidden from the evils of his job and from his enemies in his private slice of hell, would only ever see his big hands painted in bright colours. She would never see his knuckles scraped up from punishing some disobedient subject, nor coloured an angry red. Her world was one built on innocence, light and pastel rainbows.
That was something Crowley had resolved long ago, when he took on the best job in the world; his role as her father. Which was why only a few of his closest confidantes even knew of the little princess hidden safely in the bright and warm corner of his kingdom. In the only place he could call home, simply because she was there.
“Choco eggs!” His little girl squealed, scrunching up her nose as Crowley gently removed the water colours painting a rainbow on her apple-round cheeks.
“Really? You think so?” Crowley gasped in pretend surprise. Making a show out of looking around and under the table for any eggs as his little girl giggled and shifted impatiently in her seat. The sound of her laughter was sweeter than any chocolate treats to the demon as he easily lifted her up into his arms spinning around in a lazy circle to tease more sweet laughter from his little devil’s lips.
“Yes! Daddy, les go ‘untin with ‘Ette!” Of course, there was no way the hellhound turned lapdog could be left out of the Easter celebration. After finding and rescuing hell’s little princess five years ago, the formerly proud hound had taken on the role as (Y/N)’s nanny and guardian instead. Spending most days, unless she had to go out to collect souls, by the little girl’s side. Playacting as the dragon to the little girl’s knight or joining in on imaginative technicoloured tea parties.
Not that Juliet seemed to mind her new role. If how she was sitting patiently next to Crowley, waiting for the Easter Egg Hunt to start, was anything to go by. A matching pair of bunny ears balanced precariously on her head and as always making the King of Hell curious if his little daughter, though human, truly could see the hound. Since she would just point in Juliet’s direction whenever asked about it. Not willing to give up the secret to her childlike magic.
“As my little bunny commands,” Crowley beamed, swinging his little girl around until she was holding onto him with little legs wrapped around his side like a tiny monkey. The bunny ears on her head nearly falling off as she let her head fall back in happy laughter. (Y/H/C) pigtails shaking as her impatient little head swung back and forth already looking for eggs on their way to collect her basket.
“Daddy! Dun fo’get the bunny ears!” She added with a small giggle, a still slightly colourful finger pointing out Crowley’s own abandoned bunny ears on the table as he walked them towards her room to find a basket for the eggs.
“Of course pet, thank you for reminding Daddy,” He hummed as he placed a small kiss on her cheek, followed by some surprise raspberries against her still paint covered neck to tease more happy laughter out of the girl.
“Welcome!” She beamed, her little colourful fingers going around his neck and hugging him close as hard as she could. Which was in fairness not all that hard, though she really did put her whole tiny little body and heart into it. Before placing a sloppy wet kiss on his cheek, copying her daddy.
Swiping up the ears along the way, Crowley let fingers tickle more laughs out of his little heavenly slice of joy as he placed the ears on top of his own head. Letting them replace his crown for the day as he temporarily stepped down from the throne to just be Crowley, father to the beautiful child in his arms.
Vowing, of course, to make sure no one except his little girl knew this side of the King of Hell. As he was sure a certain Squirrel and Moose combo would find a ton of very creative ways to make use of that little piece of information if he gave them a chance. Including an extensive range of rabbit themed nicknames if he knew them well enough. And Crowley was certain he knew a lot more about the Winchester duo than what he normally let on.
No, this Crowley didn’t belong to the world. With his Easter bunny ears on top of his head, a matching pair with his little darling’s own Easter themed crown, he was not a demon nor the King of Hell. He wasn’t the man loathed by most in the world. Nor the demon who disliked the holidays. Instead, as he hugged his world close to him, he was just Crowley. The luckiest father in the entire world
---
“Where do you think the bunny hid your chocolate eggs then?” Crowley said, placing a quick kiss on the crown of (Y/H/C) hair as he swiped up the little pink plastic basket and let his bouncy little girl’s tiny feet hit the ground again, ready for the hunt.
“All o’er!” She beamed hands outstretched to include her whole little hidden world in the gesture. Eyes bright with promises of colourful eggs and sweet rewards as she rushed Juliet along. The cheeky little girl used the hellhound to her advantage as she made the usual apex predator into a bloodhound, sending her to search one corner of her bedroom before the princess ran in the opposite direction. Hunting for sweet treasures in the spoiled and beloved little girl’s toy chest.
Maybe it was just the pride of a father. But Crowley was sure his little girl was the brightest five-year-old around. Seeing as how she knew exactly how to use the hellhound's superior sense of smell to her advantage.
A wonderfully warm squeal filling the air as she lifted the first of many more chocolate eggs up to show her dad. As proud as only a five-year-old could be by her skills as a treasure hunter. A small furrow in her brow replacing the happy smile as she considered her choices; to eat the spoils of her treasure hunt straight away or place them in the basket. Clearly deciding that she’d rather enjoy the sweets later, on the couch with a Disney movie as she rushed over to drop the egg into the pink basket in Crowley’s hand.
Watching as his little bunny bounced back over to keep looking for eggs, Crowley smiled down at the singular egg in the basket. Knowing it would soon be filled to the brim with all her hard-won Easter treats.
On calm Easter afternoons like this one, it was much easier for the demon to find joy in the holidays he once despised. Since they gave him the sweetest treat he knew of. One that rivalled the many Easter eggs he’d carefully spent the evening before hiding for her to find.
The smile of his little girl.
---
All Story Tags: @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @hobby27 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce
#dad!crowley#dad crowley#crowley#crowley fluff#supernatural crowley#SPN Crowley#crowley fanfic#crowley fanfiction#crowley fic#daughter!reader#father daughter spn#spn fluff#supernatural fluff#spn fanfic#supernatural fanfiction#father!crowley#supernatural fanfic#child!reader#Young Reader#fanfic fluff#spn#supernatural#supernatural one shot#crowley one shot#spn one shot#king of hell#princess of hell#easter spn#easter egg hunt fic#Tales89Writes
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Chomp Chomp Poof
Hello darlings! This story kicks off Prompt Month! I'm so excited! I absolutely love seeing what everybody wants, and filling requests is my favorite kind of writing.
This story was brought to you by CJessie, who has supported me longer than literally anyone, and is genuinely one of my heroes. Her prompt was:
"Little Wispy learns a horrifying new trick"
Here it is! I hope you love it!
+++
“So, I think we may need to talk about Wispy,” Safiya signed to Vaen over their campfire. They were out in the wilds again, hunting for what was rumored to be a corrupted boar. Vaen was not at all sure they could handle a corrupted boar, but he was willing to be stupid for the right amount of money. “Mostly about how big she’s actually going to get.”
It was a fair question, all things considered. In the two months since he found her, Wispy had very nearly tripled in size, and could lope alongside them on the road for miles. Her build was very clearly the ‘wolf’ of the rest of her pack, but her paws were huge, and her apatite would have been a problem if she wasn’t happy devouring whatever monsters they caught for their bounties.
“Her mother wasn’t that big,” Vaen said, signing along with his words as always, as much habit now as anything. He remembered the day he rescued what he thought was a baby, and which turned out to be a corruption-wolf pup. “her head would have been about level with my hip or so. Wolf-sized.”
“Wispy is going to be bigger than that. She’s already the size of a dog, and she’s still growing.”
“She might slow down in a bit.”
“She might not.”
That was… probably not as disquieting as it could be. Wispy was well on her way to being a beautifully trained little monster, who knew half a dozen of Safiya’s signs, knew Vaen’s spoken words that matched them, and would come at a finger-snap or whistle. Even Alektor thought she was useful, now that she was getting big enough to help with hunts.
It didn’t hurt that she could also follow a scent for miles. Now that they knew about that, they were training her as a scent-hound too.
(Your little eater-beast is becoming useful, I’ll give it that.)
“Her, Alektor. Wispy is a her.”
(Oh, excuse me. Your female demonic little eater beast is actually becoming useful. Do forgive me.)
Alright, so Alektor was still warming up to Wispy.
Safiya knew the look of Vaen arguing with his Elementari by now, and wore an amused little smile when Alektor zoomed into the fire to sulk, a ball of hot blue flame in the heart of the orange glow. Wispy, who was almost completely asleep with her head in Safiya’s lap, didn’t even stir.
“She’s getting a lot of food,” Vaen said after a while, and passed a bag of candied nuts over to Safiya, who signed ‘thank you’ and took them with a sigh. The nuts were an indulgence, but they were bringing in decent money with two hunters and a wolf and Vaen decided they deserved something sweet on the road. “More than the bad hunting that killed off most of her pack before I ever got there. And she keeps eating all the corrupted beasts we hunt. It doesn’t seem to do her any harm, she was born corrupted, but who knows?”
“Think she’s going to get big enough to ride?” Safiya’s signs got short with excitement and her eyes brightened. Wispy, disturbed by the bouncing, whined and abandoned Safiya’s lap for Vaen’s. “I heard stories about the corruption-wolves o the far north, and how they get huge.”
“I hope not,” Vaen said profoundly, and tilted his head when Wispy went still all at once, focused on something in the bushes. She didn’t ‘point’ the way a hunting dog did, but it wasn’t hard to read her body language when something had her attention. “Hang on.”
“Do you hear anything?” Safiya signed, already reaching for her staff. Being deaf, she relied on Vaen and Wispy to be her ears. “What is it?”
“Don’t know,” Vaen told her, switching to sign in case it was bandits. Most people could understand common, but Safiya’s sign-language was indecipherable to anyone who didn’t already know it. Useful, when they needed to talk, but noise was a danger. “Don’t hear anything. Let me see-“
Wispy lunged forward, utterly silent, and vanished in a puff of blue-glowing smoke.
Vaen stared at the empty air that, a moment ago, contained his wolf.
Something, which fortunately did not sound human, shrieked in the bushes.
Vaen went for his sword, muttering a curse, as Alektor dove into their shared magic and spread warmth to his palms, ready to use. Safiya braced herself, a deft hand with her carved staff, and a formidable fighter herself.
The bushes rustled furiously.
They braced themselves, ready for a fight.
The shriek cut off suddenly.
The bushes rustled again, and parted as Wispy emerged, tail-first, dragging something that was very nearly her own size, growling in a way that sounded very pleased with herself. When she got closer, Vaen recognized her burden as one of the corrupted rodents that tended to haunt the edges of town. They could be dangerous in packs, eternally hungry, and bold when they had the numbers to back themselves up.
Wispy’s jaws were locked around the creature’s neck, and her cheeks bulged as her inner set of jaws took heaping bites out of the corpse. She dragged it over and deposited it,, entirely dead but still twitching, at Vaen’s feet. Bloody to the neck, tongue lolling out of both sets of jaws, she cocked her head and looked up at him, ears perked proudly.
(Your eater-beast can teleport.)
“Uh,” Vaen said intelligently, and leaned down to scratch behind Wispy’s ears, careful to avoid the blood spatters. “Seems like. Good girl, Wispy. Wait.”
Immediately, the little wolf dropped her butt to the dirt and planted herself. ‘Wait’ was her very first command, and made sure that they had time to harvest their kills for anything useful before she ate them. Now, however, it gave Vaen time to drag the rodent out of the way, where Wispy could eat it without spattering them, or any of their gear. “Go ahead.”
With a happy yip, Wispy lunged, for her kill, vanished into glowing blue smoke, and reappeared on top of her kill, where she happily settled down to eat it, crunching through bones as easily as she did everything else, with every evidence of enjoyment.
Vaen could only shake his head, and took his seat again.
It was always something.
+++
EA - The Oathbreakers:
All of them have secrets. All of them are failures. Unfortunately, they’re the world’s last, best, hope.
Successful Failure
Boom Town
Flower Boom (Free on Patreon!)
Bone Sign (Subscriber Only!)
+++
More Stories!
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Truce? Ch.1
Summary: Someone leaked the video from December 16th, 1991 to the world, resulting in mass uproar of the Winter Soldier’s murder of Iron Man’s parents. When things take a turn for the worse and the public starts to demand for the Winter Soldier’s head, the most unlikely candidate of them all comes to Bucky Barnes’ rescue.
Honestly, when Steve called to ask for Fury’s help, he wasn’t thinking that Tony would be playing boyfriend to his boyfriend.
Disclaimer: This was meant to be crack with the depth of a donut hole. If it ended up with the depth of a pound cake hole instead, well that was entirely unintentional
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Just smile for the nice people holding the cameras, Barnes—no, not like you’re going to eat them,” Tony hissed out. God, he knew it took time before people adjusted to the media attention enough to have a press-ready smile, but surely Barnes could do better than the teeth-baring grimace that was marring his face. Instead of looking like a man in love, he looked like he was in imminent danger of explosive diarrhea.
“I’m not a performing monkey, Stark, you get what you get,” Bucky grunted back. He stood stiffly next to the billionaire at the press event that was supposed to be their “coming out” to the world. The public relations had concocted some story about how he and Tony had connected on a shared history of kidnapping, torture and nonconsensual body modification that had led to a whirlwind romance that they kept secret from the world.
They had been taking their time letting others “know” because though Bucky had been awake for various shifts over the last seven decades, Steve walking around in khakis for months on end had given the public the perception that super soldiers adjusted to the turn of the century very slowly.
Thanks Steve.
“I have no qualms about abandoning you and your freeze-burned friend to the sharks,” Tony grated out, smiling widely at the cameramen and throwing in a cheeky wink that had a woman swooning.
The only reason Tony had agreed to the whole charade was because Pepper, in all her boundless wisdom, had convinced them both that the public infighting between the members of the Avengers put a nice juicy target on their back—one that practically screamed that they were uncoordinated and vulnerable to attack.
“I don’t know about you but I’m not fond of the idea of dealing with another world-invasion right about now—or a delusional take-over the world scheme.”
“Fine,” Bucky melded his face into something less resembling a scowl, trying to convince all the people hounding them that he was in love with the billionaire beside him even as he struggled not to flinch from the hand that wound its way around his back to land on his hip.
Bucky didn’t understand how they didn’t see through their thin act. He knew next to nothing about Tony Stark other than the fact that the man hated him for killing his parents and hated Steve for keeping it all a secret.
They might have all been living in the same building for the last several months after the battle in Siberia (to try and mend the fallout from the Civil War fiasco), but the various floors could be entirely different galaxies for the amount of times they interacted. Tony stayed strictly in the penthouse or his lab, refusing to interact with any of the team other than Bruce or Thor, both of whom had the excuse of being off-world when the big throwdown happened. To this day, he hadn’t spoken a word to Steve.
Thankfully, after a few more pictures, Tony made some quip about getting his lover-boy home so he could treat him right with a home-cooked meal and the crowd ate it up like kids at a candy shop. They slid into the limo to take them back to the Tower, Tony sliding as far away as he could get the moment the door closed and sealed them in the dimly lit interior courtesy of the tinted windows.
Falling back into the watchful gaze of the sniper, Bucky observed the twitches that revealed Tony’s discomfort, knowing that if they wanted to play this dating charade well enough to fool the skeptics, they would need to do better.
“I feel a spiritual affinity for turtles.”
Tony turned around to look at him like he had gone mad—which, not fair, Bucky’s grip on sanity had been loose for decades, but he was finally getting a handle on it.
“I like strawberry cake more than chocolate or vanilla,” Bucky continued when Tony said nothing. “The pink is pretty and I like the fact that it’s just sweet enough.”
Tony’s brows screwed up in confusion. “I know you’re speaking English, but I’m not understanding what you’re saying.”
“I’m helping you to get to know me,” Bucky clarified, shrugging. “I don’t think we’ll make a very convincing couple if we don’t know anything about each other.”
“I disagree,” Tony contradicted. “I’m an excellent actor.”
“You may be, but I’m not and I’m never going to be comfortable at your side until you feel less like a stranger.” He didn’t move when Tony faced him fully, fury twisting his usual congenial features and flashing through his whiskey eyes.
“I have no interest in getting to know you,” Tony spoke coldly. “We are not friends. This is a job that will have an intense—but brief—moment in the spotlight and then after a few months we can have a quiet break up, go our separate ways and never have to speak outside of Avenger situations.”
“I know you want nothing to do with me,” Bucky acknowledged softly, watching as Tony drew back at his frank words. “And I don’t blame you for that because I cannot just wash away the pain that my actions resulted in. But I’m trying to get better and move forward. I already know you won’t forgive me, and that this enforced proximity will do nothing to change your mind.”
“But this is more than just us,” he emphasized. “I may not fully understand the scale of social media influence in the modern world, but I sure as heck remember propaganda during the war and know that this is no different. A good bluff can win the day just as much as a frontal assault, and I need your help to make sure our bluff is airtight.”
Tony’s eyes narrowed in a glare. “As much as it pains me to admit it, you’re right.”
Bucky held out his hand, “Truce?” Tony rolled his eyes, but he took the metal hand without hesitation and shook firmly. He showed no discomfort from the feeling of the metal, nor any fear of having the arm, which was basically a weapon attached to Bucky’s body, near him.
Instead, he actually gifted it a longer inspection then he had bothered to give Bucky the entire time they’d been in the car, thoroughly looking it over with undisguised interest before letting go and retreating back into his corner.
“So, what’s your spirit animal?” Bucky invited, hopefully.
Tony snorted, but after a moment where Bucky didn’t think he was going to answer, he did. “I think most people would argue that I’m more like a prideful peacock strutting all over and displaying his tail feathers than anything else.”
“Those people are idiots,” Bucky disagreed. “If anything, I’d think you’re like those meerkats from the Lion King.”
“Scurry, dig, freeze?” Tony raised a skeptical brow. “I think I preferred the peacock than an animal that’s afraid of its own shadow.”
“It was only afraid because it had the awareness of the world around it,” Bucky countered, just a shade defensively. He liked the meerkats. “They had knowledge of the threats that exist that could destroy their world. Yet at the same time, even when knowing destruction might be imminent, they spent all of their time creating, building, improving on what they had and industriously dedicating themselves to the future. Not unlike you.” His words came out less joking then he planned, ending up somewhere close to tender and Bucky tensed in preparation for Tony reacting to what he might take as condescension.
Tony said nothing, just stared at him for a moment and absorbing Bucky’s words.
“Did they give you a silver tongue with that metal arm?” he finally retorted, but the meanness that was there before was softened, no longer jagged with the intent to cut.
“Unfortunately, the silver tongue came with the package,” Bucky dared to tease. “Luckily enough for you enjoy, oh love of my life, fire of my loins.”
He savored the sound of Tony’s shocked laughter.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/25622497 (theres a second chp out)
#winterironshield#winteriron#stony#stucky#fanfic#fanfiction#funny#this is pure ridiculousness#vengeanceworks#avengers#marvel#fake dating
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HS^2 RE: Chapter 13, The Funeral
The Funeral, huh? So, Blaperile thinks it's gonna be Gamzee's, but actually I think Dave's is also likely.
Though I guess they can coincide, since both died on Candy Earth C.
I figure Roxy might play a key part in the proceedings again. But I hope she'd at least be less blasé about everything like she was with Dirk. Jeez, Roxy's win-state really revolves around hosting a funeral every few years, huh?
It started with Frigglish and Rose, 6 months apart. Then fast forward seven years to Dirk, some more years to Dead Jade (and, coincidentally, that was the day she went into labor, right?), and now here we are.
---
> Page 303
Cool. Yeah, that's too fancy a church for it to belong to the rebellion. This page, at least, is about Gamzee's funeral, both image and text.
Nice glass-in-lead windows, I must say.
> Page 304
Lots of trolls. Figures, since he was a figurehead and all.
Blaperile has a good point. There isn't any seggregation between humans and trolls.
... But Jane doesn't really acknowledge the trolls present in her eulogy, it seems. Don't think these trolls are really Human State Citizens, ya know.
Jane's doused in photographer flashes. Such a spectacle she makes of everything. Huh, didn't notice the flowers. I guess it's a nice touch, with trolls giving such importance to blood colour. Guess for Jane it's more about Gamzee personally than acknowledging there's any merit, even in a historical sense, to the hemospectrum, of course.
> Page 305
Can I just say I hope we're not gonna be subjected to all the crap Jane is going to spout?
I hope Dirk and Jake are going to have another heart-to-heart. I won't get my hopes up about Yiffany (I'll- I'll just start referring to her as Fanny, I think) getting a speaking role anytime soon. Although, who knows? She might have a few course words she'd like to share about the whole charade.
Blaperile has a good point, how come Fanny's out in plain sight now? Is Jane propping her up as temporary-heiress, while Tavros is supposedly kidnapped? I mean, when she says "me and my family", you'd kind of think she wants the term to include Fanny, you know?
> Page 306
TMI, Jane. TMI. Jake is right freaking there, too.
Okay, you know. I think Fanny can't hold her tongue for much longer. Magic collar or not.
> Page 307
Hopy shit! Go Jake! Way to show some spine, at last! Well, okay, granted, he got back in Jane's circle specifically to spy, but this situation is really uncalled for.
Here's to hoping Fanny isn't immediately subdued by Jane's personal security. Wreck some shit, girl!
Reeeeeeeeeallly interested in knowing more about her personality. I mean, we've got her squared away as rebel fairly truthfully, I'm sure. But there's a lot of ways for her to behave in that role.
And does she have any powers inherited from the Becquerel side of her genes, I wonder?
> Page 308
Wow, Jane can make anyone sound like a martyr. Really wondering what Fanny's going to do now. She would have been best to do away with the leash right away. I'm afraid she's working on instinct here, though.
> Page 309
Uuuuuh- Is she going to open-? To peak at-?
> Page 310
She is, isn't she? She's going to open the coffin!
Then afterwards, only Harry hasn't manhandled the corpse, out of all Earth C teens. :P
Blaperile posits: what if the coffin's empty? Well, true, Jane could've revived Gamzee, if she felt so inclined. Big IF there, though.
> Page 311
Fanny, dear. What?
She's just making a ruckus for kicks. I don't think she has much of a plan here. This is... quite tame for all I could imagine her doing. Pretty sure her leash is gonna get pulled in quickly, at this rate.
> Page 312
... Eeesh, is she really going to shock her? On live TV? Really, Jane? Have you no shame?
> Page 314
The opposition here, between Jane's words and her actions. It's staggering.
Hey, there are even carapacian mourners in the church? Huh. Didn't think they'd- who am I kidding, they're so easily led astray.
> Page 316
Aww. Okay, so Jake at least was smart enough to lower the voltage a bit on the collar. Still, ugh. Can't believe Jane sunk THIS low.
It seems Jake's conflicted on how to proceed now. Risk his cover, or let an innocent girl be pained much longer? Heh, "Little Red". Cool nickname for a wolf girl.
> Page 317
So! Gamzee was in fact in the coffin!
... Jane, really, you've sunk so low, at this point you don't need a redemption arc, you need a bungee cord.
> Page 318
If that's really Gamzee, and not a puppet placeholder, what's his face look like? Decomposition set in yet? I'm morbidly curious.
> Page 319
Pfffff. Oh bye.
Guess those soccer shoes were due for some good use, right?
> Page 320
Pffffff. That's a surprisingly blasé reaction, it's like a real throwback to Act 1 / Act 6 Act 1.
> Page 321
:/ :/ :/ Jane really doesn't think much of Fanny, and now she's even admitting it on camera!
She's wrong, though. Fanny's parents are worried sick about her, and I'm sure they're trying to mount a rescue operation at the first occasion.
I would LOVE for them to show up here though. Rose and Jade have a lot to account for, but Fanny shouldn't pay their bill in this.
> Page 322
We don't know her well enough, Jake. Who knows what goes on in her head?
Can't blame her for trying to wreck Jane's shit after what she pulled on her, IMO.
> Page 323
Well, okay, Fanny's rounding things up.
She kicked Gamzee's corpse out of the story (we can only hope), so points for that!
And she smacked the remote out of Jane's hands. Now for her parting gift? Give Jane the collar to wear and shock her? Double middle finger adieu? What's it gonna be?
> Page 324
See, here? Jake acknowledging his status as a doormat while admiring his genetic decendant's rebuttal of the role? That's awesome.
> Page 325
Jane's sending in the hounds to capture the... well, the loose hound, I guess. Are the windows gonna get cracked by a SWAT team now?
> Page 326
Oooooh! Nice! It's the cavalry to the rescue!
Cool. Lots more action in this than I'd have figured. It helps that all Strilondes that could have taken the stage were unavailable. (I mean, Brain Ghost Dirk was unavailable in that he's incorporeal and virtually invincible for all but Jake.)
#homestuck#homestuck^2#reaction#jane lalonde#upd8#jake english#brain ghost dirk#yiffany lalonde harley#candy earth c
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Accidentally Ours (5/7)
Pairing: Tenth Doctor x Rose Tyler
Rating: Teen
Written for a prompt for Ten x Rose kid fic/family fic where they adopt kids left orphans that they meet on their travels / and also a prompt for Ten x Rose with a mix of adopted and biological kids (@tinyconfusion). Tagging @doctorroseprompts and @timepetalscollective which I think both had those prompts.
Trope: Accidental Baby Acquisition
Warnings: Kid Fic/ Baby Fic/ Pregnancy Fic
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7
AO3 / TS
Melody celebrated another birthday, and another, and then another, with no sign of the future Doctor.
The day after Melody’s 4th birthday, the Doctor took his family on a picnic to Aessith, a beautiful planet where faeries existed. Well, they weren't faeries exactly, but the inhabitants were petite humanoids with colorful skin tones that matched a set of gossamer wings. And if his daughter thought they were faeries, like from her favorite book, who was the Doctor to burst her bubble? Rose usually said, ‘the first in line,’ but not today. Not on her birthday trip.
Rose stretched out on the blanket and gave the Doctor a kiss. “Thank you for this. It’s gorgeous here.”
“Mmm. Yeah, it is. It’s a shame that in a hundred years the planet is mostly destroyed by a civil war.”
Melody clambered over them both and threw her arms around the Doctor’s neck. “Thank you, Daddy! When will we get to see the faeries?”
“Anything for my best girl. And, erm…” The Doctor looked around the empty park. “We’ll go into town to meet some locals after you finish eating your lunch.”
Rose wrapped her arms around the both of them and smirked. “I thought I was your best girl?”
The Doctor swallowed heavily and he darted a glance between Rose and Melody. “Oh, well, ah…”
Melody laughed and rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly, Mummy. You’re not a girl.”
“I’m not? Well then, what am I?”
“You’re a grown up.”
The Doctor and Rose both laughed at her logic. “That’s true. My mistake.”
“Oh! Mummy, Daddy, look faeries! Can I go say, ‘hi?’” She pointed to spot over his shoulder and he turned to see an Aessithian man and woman walking along the footpath with a small toddler between them. The other family waved at them.
“I don’t see why not, but come straight back. No wandering off.”
“Okay.” She kissed each of her parents before scrambling off the blanket to introduce herself to the faery family.
The Doctor wrapped his arms around Rose and tugged her onto his lap. He growled in her ear, “You’re my best grown up,” and dropped kisses along her neck.
Rose giggled but let her head fall to the side to give him easier access. “Shut up. I was jus’ teasin.’”
“Always trying to get a rise out of me.” He pulled her more firmly onto his lap and ground himself against her bum. “But the secret’s out - it doesn’t take much.”
She patted the side of his face. “Was never much of a secret, dear. And behave yourself, we’re about to have company.”
The Doctor snapped his head toward a rapidly approaching Melody, who was dragging along her new friends, and pasted a bright smile on his face. “Hello.” He helped Rose up and then stood beside her with his hand extended. “I’m the Doctor and this is my wife, Rose. I see you’ve met our daughter, Melody.”
The other man, a lovely shade of lavender, returned the handshake. “It is a pleasure, sir. I am Oswald, King of Aessinth.”
“Oh!” Rose quickly curtsied, knowing from experience that it was better safe than sorry when it came to royalty.
“No need for that, my dear. We don’t stand on ceremony.” The Queen reached out a pale blue hand to Rose, who was struck by the shining beauty of the other woman’s sapphire hair and matching eyes. She stood straight and proud, though only reached Rose’s shoulder.
King Oswald, who stood at about the same height as Rose, introduced his family, “My wife, Queen Arabella, and our precious daughter, Princess Clarabelle.”
The toddler rounded out the look of her family with her pink candy floss complexion, magenta hair and sparkling emerald green eyes.
“It’s lovely to meet you. I was jus’ telling my husband that you have a beautiful planet.”
“Thank you. It’s not often we get off worlders anymore.”
“Really? But it’s so beautiful here. I’d think that you’d have loads of tourists.”
“We used to, but with the current political climate and our planet’s threat level at critical,” the king’s eyes narrowed slightly, “it is very unusual to see families visit at all.”
The Doctor and Rose looked nervously at each other and down to Melody. Rose pulled her closer to her side. The Doctor tugged at his ear. “Oh, er, I hadn’t realized. Not always the best at checking alerts before setting off on a trip.”
“You should really take your family and go.” The king eyes skittered around the clearing before whispering to the Doctor, “It’s not safe.”
Rose pointed to the princess. “Surely it can’t be that bad if you have your daughter out for a stroll?”
“It’s not by-” The king glanced over his shoulder, at a guard Rose hadn’t noticed before, and pasted on a false smile. “It is our duty to carry on normally for the sake of the people.”
When she examined the faces of the king and queen, she could clearly see signs of stress. “Yes, of course.” Nodding she began to clean up their picnic.
The Doctor picked up Melody into his arms. “Right, well, thank you for the warning. We wish you the best, but we’ll leave directly.”
The king and queen smiled brittlely and tightened their hold on their daughter’s hands. “It’s for the best, but please come back for a visit after all this passes.”
“We certainly will. Melody’s quiet enamored of it here.”
The Aessinthians smiled a genuine smile at that and looked in fondness at the outgoing little girl. “The girls can have a tea party.”
“Yes. Thanks again and it was lovely to meet you all.”
The Doctor grabbed Rose’s hand. “I’m so sorry. I checked that I had the right coordinates. I should have triple checked.”
“It’s fine, no harm done. We’ll just be more care-”
They had just approached the park’s exit when a blast rang out followed by a blood curdling scream. The Doctor knocked his family to the ground and threw himself on top of them while scanning the park.
Rose struggled to pull herself from under him.
“Rose, don’t look.”
“What happened?”
“The...the king…”
“Is he…?” Rose craned her neck to see.
The Doctor panted harshly in her ear. “Don’t look! We have to get Melody back to the TARDIS.”
“But what about the queen and Clarabelle? We have to help them.”
They heard a wail and a scream from the queen, “NO! NO, DON’T. PLEASE...SHE’S JUST A BABY. HELP! PLEASE!”
“Doctor, we have to help them.”
The Doctor’s eyes were wild. “Rose, please. I need you both safe.”
Rose firmly pressed her lips to the Doctor’s. “I’ll take Melody to the TARDIS, but see if there’s anything you can do for them.”
He sighed in relief and nodded. “Thank you.”
“Be careful though, yeah?”
“Always. You too.”
They shared another quick kiss, before Rose got to her feet with their daughter and briskly but cautiously made her way back to the TARDIS.
--
Rose was pacing back and forth in front of the time rotor and chewing on her thumbnail. She debated going out after the Doctor, but they had a rule about leaving Melody alone in the timeship. Not that she liked leaving the Doctor alone when she knew there were bad people with weapons around either.
Five more minutes. I’ll give him five more minutes an’ then I’m goin’ after him.
She’d made three more circuits of the console room when the Doctor burst through the door clutching Clarabelle. Rose rushed over to him and he handed her the toddler.
“What ha- Where’s the queen?”
The Doctor paused briefly in his race around the console, features hardening, before shaking his head and continuing dematerialization.
When they were safely in the vortex, he collapsed on the jumpseat. He had his head in his hands, elbows on his knees, and was breathing harshly. Rose sat down next to him, shifting Clarabelle in her arms so that she could rub the Doctor’s back. He didn’t often let people see him like this, didn’t often allow himself to break down like this, and Rose loved him even more that he trusted her enough with his heartsbreak.
“I...She…” He took a deep breath and met Rose’s gaze. “She begged me to take her and Clarabelle with us. I set off a smoke bomb. Got us all out of there and a bit of a head start. We were nearly here, when the rebels caught up to us. She gave herself up to them as a distraction so that I could get Clarabelle away.”
“What’s the plan?”
“Plan?”
“To rescue her.”
“Rose, she’s-” He glanced at Clarabelle. “I promised her, we’d take care of Clarabelle as if she was our own.”
Rose’s hand flew to her mouth and she clenched the young girl closer.
“I know it’s a big decision and we didn’t discuss it, but-”
“Of course, we will. There’s no question. I just...I can’t imagine. The poor darling, losing both her parents, and so young. How do we even…”
“We love her, like we did with Melody. That’s all we can do. All any parent can do.”
Rose nodded. “We’ll have to restrict our travel to planets that’ll be accepting of her species. Oh god, Mum!”
“I’ll make her a shimmer for when we visit Earth and other xenophobic planets.”
“A shimmer?”
“It’s a sort of cloaking device. It’s used all over the galaxy by aliens trying to integrate into populations different from their own.” He studied her. “When she’s wearing it, people’ll see only a human toddler with dark hair and doe eyes, round little cheeks and a button nose. Her true form’ll be hidden.”
“Mum’s gonna freak.”
“Why? She’s been hounding us for another grandkid for ages.”
Rose rested her head on his shoulder and chuckled. “I don’t think adopting a faery princess was exactly what she had in mind.”
“Jackie’ll love her.”
“She will.” Rose stood and turned to the Doctor. “C’mon. We should explain what we can to Melody and set up her old cot for Clarabelle. I think both girls will enjoy the company.”
He wrapped his arms around Rose and their newest daughter. “I love you, Rose, so much. I don’t tell you nearly enough.”
His words and the love she could see shining in his eyes, brought tears to her own. “It’s all the more special when you do.”
--
Melody and Clara were jumping up and down, completely unable to contain their excitement. “Hurry up, Nana!”
Jackie, the last one out of their little group, pulled the door to the flat closed behind her. “I’m coming. I’m coming. You girls ready?”
Melody and Clara nodded with huge smiles on their faces. “Yes!”
The girls had been begging their parents to go trick or treating for weeks, and they’d finally agreed to visit Jackie for Halloween.
The Doctor had on his usual brown striped pinstripe suit, but Rose in the spirit of the holiday got dressed up in the pink satin 50’s dress she’d worn back when they met the Wire. Rose snagged Clara’s hand and trick or treat basket before she had a chance to run off. “Melody, no runnin’. We’re going all together.”
Melody turned and tapped her foot. “But you guys are so slow.”
Rose raised an eyebrow at the 6-year old. “We don’t have to go at all.”
“Sorry, Mummy.” She sheepishly walked over and took Clara’s other hand.
Jackie glanced nervously at Clara who was without a shimmer for the first time on Earth, not counting the few times she’d been without in the safety of Jackie’s flat. “An’ it’s safe for her to be like that?”
The Doctor looked down at his little Aessithian princess in all her pink glory. “Safest night of the year for it. She looks like any other 4-year old in fancy dress.”
“Bloody good costume. She’s not gonna fly off is she?”
The Doctor rolled his eyes at his mother-in-law. “When have you ever seen Clara fly? Her wings are vestigial.”
“What?”
“Non-functioning. They just look beautiful. Don’t they darling?” He tickled Clara’s ribs causing her to giggle.
Melody dropped her sister’s hand and knocked on the first of Jackie’s neighbor’s doors. She was vibrating with excitement waiting for it to open.
A short, thin woman in 6-inch heels and leopard print, from head to toe, answered the door.
“Trick or Treat!” Melody called out and glanced meaningfully at Clara.
“Trick or treat!” Clara held up her little jack-o-lantern bucket.
“Oh, and who do we have here? Is that Melody Tyler from next door?”
“Yes, Mrs. Clarke. And Clara.”
Mrs. Clarke’s eyes widened as she looked at the tiny faery. “That’s a lovely costume, dear.”
“I’m a faery princess.”
“I can see that. And you, Melody? What are you dressed as?”
Melody glanced down at her outfit and up at Mrs. Clarke, giving her the look that her mother normally described as ‘dribbled on your shirt.’ “I’m dressed as a human.”
“Didn’t you want to dress up for Halloween?”
“But I am dressed up. I’m not normally a h-” Rose nudged her and cleared her throat. “I mean, I’m dressed like my favorite character from Harry Potter. Hermione. She’s also a human.” Melody gave the older woman her best smile and threw in a few eyelash flutters.
Oh, she learned that from Rose. The Doctor choked on his laugh and turned it into a cough.
Mrs. Clarke darted a glance from Melody to the Doctor and frowned. “Oh. Okay.”
Melody’s eyes brightened. “See my scarf? It’s in Gryffindor colors because Hermione is a Gryffindor.”
“I thought she was a human?”
“She is. Gryffindor is just the name of the House she’s in at her school.”
“Ah.” Mrs. Clarke smiled at that.
Melody ran her eyes up and down the neighbor. “Why’re you dressed like a Hydraxian marpletorp?”
The other woman’s smile drooped. “A what?”
Rose covered Melody’s mouth with her hand. “It’s just a character from a tv show she watches.”
She looked down at her outfit. “I’m supposed to be Peg Bundy.”
The Doctor nodded. “Oh, yes. Molto bene. You look just like...like, er, Meg, ah, Peg Bundy. Well done.” He turned to Rose. “Is Peg Bundy a Hydraxian marpletorp because really the resemblance is uncanny?”
“Doctor.”
Melody, still with Rose’s hand over her mouth, lifted her plastic bucket once again toward Mrs. Clarke, Clara following suit. The woman deposited chocolates in both girls’ pumpkins and closed the door mumbling to herself.
The girls turned to their mother. “Look, Mummy, chocolate. Trick or treating is brilliant!”
Rose rubbed the back of her neck and gave a small smile to both her daughters.
Jackie stood gaping at her daughter. “Blimey, Rose. An’ that was just the first one.”
“It’s gonna be a long night.” With a shake of her head, Rose took the hands of both girls and headed for the next door down the corridor.
--
By the time Melody was seven, Rose had stopped fretting everyday about the future. That's not to say that on rare occasions, when all was quiet and she was alone with her thoughts, she didn’t sometimes think about the fact that the future Doctor still hadn’t returned for Melody. But with two rambunctious children and a husband that rarely slept, those quiet times were far and few between. She didn't know if it was worse to think he wouldn't be coming back for her and the implications of that or to think that each day they spent with Melody was one day closer to the unknown end of their time together. She’d become very adept at taking each day as it came and making sure her family never felt anything but secure in her love for them.
Rose reached up to put another bauble on the tree.
“Rose, should you be doing that?”
She rolled her eyes at her mother. “I'm barely three months gone, I think I can handle decorating a Christmas tree.”
“Himself should really be helping you instead of just lazing about.”
The Doctor was spread out across the floor of Jackie’s lounge wearing a bejeweled plastic princess crown and coloring with Clarabelle.
“Mum, he’s keeping Clara occupied, which is a much harder job.”
Jackie crossed her arms looking unconvinced.
The Doctor winked at Rose and offered Clara a different colored crayon. Rose shook her head fondly and went back to decorating.
“Nana, why do you look different in all these pictures?”
Jackie crossed over to were Melody was seated at the table looking through photo albums of Rose’s childhood. “Wha’s that, sweetheart?”
She flipped through pictures of Rose and Jackie at different ages and pointed out the differences. “See, Nan, you don't look the same in these two pictures.”
Jackie smiled. “Well, in that one, see that’s your mummy I’m holding, it was right after she was born and I was only 20. But this other one was your mummy’s 18th birthday. I’m older in that photo, but I don’t look too different from now, do I? Still, I look good for bein’ a gran twice over.”
Jackie sucked her stomach in and Rose laughed. Jackie scolded, “Hush you. You’ll see one day.”
“Stop it. You still look great, Mum.”
The Doctor looked up from his coloring and grinned. “You’ve got good genes, Jackie.”
She shook her head at the Doctor, but was pleased all the same.
“But Mummy and Daddy still look the same from when I was little.”
“That’s because you see them everyday. And it doesn’t help that your father seems to only own one suit.”
“Oi! I own more than one suit. Is it my fault that I look smashing in this one?”
Jackie rolled her eyes.
The Doctor waggled his eyebrows at his wife. “Rose thinks it’s foxy.”
Jackie held up her hand. “Stop right there.”
Melody went back to studying the photographs before turning back to Jackie. “Nana, when was this one taken? I don't remember it.”
Melody handed Jackie the photo she’d taken of Rose and the Doctor at Christmas dinner right after he’d regenerated. They were leaning into each other both wearing paper crowns and had huge smiles on their faces.
A small smiled tugged at Jackie’s lips. It was obvious how in love they were even then. The idiots.
Jackie handed Melody back the photograph. “That was before you came along. Your mum and dad’s first Christmas together.”
“Second.”
Jackie frowned at the Doctor. “Second?”
“Yup, back when I was big ears and leather, I took Rose to Cardiff at Christmas to see Charles Dickens. So technically that was our first Christmas together.”
“Charles Dickens?” Jackie’s jaw dropped.
Rose called out from her spot by the tree. “He meant to take me to Venice. We only accidentally landed in Cardiff and it was pure luck that Charles Dickens was there at the same time. ‘Side’s, Doctor, it was Christmas Eve, so I'm not sure it counts.”
“Oi! Of course it counts. It was 12:05 Christmas morning when we got back to the TARDIS.”
Rose gave the Doctor a tongue touched smile. “If you say so.”
Melody tugged on Jackie’s arm, her brow creased with concentration. “What’s wrong now, sweetheart?”
“How many years ago was this? I’m seven and a half now, and you said I wasn’t born yet. So how long ago was it?”
Jackie thought for a second before replying, “Next week it’ll be exactly eight years ago.”
Melody held up the photo and looked between it and her mother now. Jackie leaned over Melody’s shoulder and did the same.
“Can I see that, Melly?”
The little girl handed Jackie the photo.
Jackie walked over to Rose and held it up right next to her. Her gasp had the Doctor scrambling up off the ground. “Rose. You-” Jackie couldn’t get the words out and instead waved the photo at her daughter.
Rose took the picture from her mother. “What’s wrong?”
“You haven’t aged a bit since you started traveling with this one.” She poked the Doctor in the chest.
“What now?” He leaned over Rose’s shoulder.
“Look at the picture of the both of you from eight years ago.”
“Okay?”
“Rose still looks exactly like she did when she was 20. She’s nearly 29 and she don’t look a day out of her teens. And don’t ‘good genes’ me this time.”
The Doctor’s brow furrowed as he studied the picture. He looked up with panic in his eyes. “Medbay. Now.”
He slapped the photo back into Jackie’s hands.
“Mum, watch the girls for a mo.’”
Jackie watched wide-eyed as the Doctor pulled Rose toward the TARDIS.
--
“Say something.”
The Doctor could barely look her in the eye and when he did she was hit with a wave of guilt so strong he couldn't hide it over their bond. “I’m so sorry.”
“Why’re you sorry?”
“I never wanted you to…”
“What?”
“Losing everyone you love. You live as long as me, and-”
Rose hopped off the exam table and knelt in front of him. “I won’t be losing everyone I love.”
“Your mum-”
“I lost my dad when I was a baby. And as for Mum, yeah, I don’t want to think about it, but humans are generally expected to outlive their parents.”
“Not by millennia. And...the kids.”
Rose bit her lip and nodded. “That is gonna be hard. We’ll get through it together, though, yeah?”
His eyes still avoided her, but he nodded. “Yeah.”
“The girls are gonna want to go off at some point and have their own lives. Maybe…” She licked her lips. “...Maybe we could stretch out visits to get more time with them. And we’ll make every moment we do have with them count.”
Finally a small smile pulled at his lips. “Yeah. Yes.”
“It’s not all bad, right?”
The Doctor saw the worry on Rose’s face and he pulled her into his arms. “Course not. I get you for a lot longer than I ever let myself hope.”
“I promised you my forever, and now I get to keep it with yours.” She nuzzled into the crook of his neck. “You’re stuck with me.”
He giggled bubbled free. “Stuck with you, Rose Tyler, that’s not so bad.” He kissed her on the forehead. I love you. He stood and offered her a hand. “C’mon. Let’s get back to the girls.”
Rose chewed her thumbnail. “What am I gonna tell Mum?”
“She already knows or at least suspects. You saw her out there” He rubbed his jaw. “‘Sides it doesn’t matter what we say, I’m still gonna get a slap out of it.”
#ten x rose#doctorroseprompts#accidental baby aquisition#baby fic#kid fic#jackie tyler#pregnancy#emotional hurt/comfort
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@pafallende liked for a thing after the holts are kidnapped, shiro is rather susceptible to katie’s tears
Katie had never felt so small.
It was more than just her size. Humans scaled on the smaller side throughout this grand universe; the girl has stood before giants, and her confidence was never this shaken.
She’s trembling like a scared animal, now—curled up on herself and trying not to cry. Neither of her parents had ever spoken about feelings as some kind of shameful act; in fact, they were quite insistent about expressing yourself. Katie did not like to cry, though. One time, when she was enrolled in the private institute for prospective engineers in the albidax system, she cried and everyone laughed.
Her face was ugly when her eyes were all puffy and her skin turned blotchy; what’s more, she was pathetic for wailing like she was still an infant.
Tears were fine when they were absorbed by her mother’s lap, but not in the big, open halls of the central precinct. That shame shouldn’t be as palpable as it is now—not after the fresh trauma of a home invasion. However, it seems like that one string of pride is keeping Katie from shrieking ugly, high-pitched cries and tearing at whatever’s around her. The method is only barely working, though—there’s little, needling tears making their way down her reddening face, and Katie keeps sniffling.
As plush as her seat might be, there’s not anymore cushion for her to sink into; instead, Katie just tries hiding her face behind her knees. Whenever she closes her eyes, the masked figures are tearing through her room again—it’s better to just barely peek over her legs, then stare at the floors as all the noise of the precinct plays overhead.
There’s footsteps, chatter, and lots the ringing. Katie hopes there’s something about her family throughout all the chitchat and calls. Maybe someone spotted the shuttle that took them, or the investigators already figured out who ransacked her home—yet no one comes to talk to her. Everyone just keeps walking by, doing nothing that might help her family.
It’s all just a bunch of other nonsense.
Her gaze hardens, but before any agitation can really consolidate, a hand settles on her shoulder. Katie sits up instantly and her head snaps to the right. It’s Shiro and Katie has never felt so much relief in that exact moment. Her wide, frightful eyes crinkle into something soft as she surges from her caved-in position to cling onto the man, all the while crying, “Shiro!”
The hug is awkward—the girl wound up standing up on her knees, and was practically spilling out of her chair. She trapped Shiro in an odd stance, too. His left arm is stuck to his side, now, and he’d been standing at an angel. It hardly matters, though, as his relief was also immense. He winds up settling his free-hand around her shoulders, then squeezes just enough to provide some comfort.
It’s upsetting to find out she’d just been left out here. There’s a well of shame that’s been pooling in the recesses of his mind, and it just ended up even deeper. Not only did he fail his post, but he also left his youngest and now only charge to in some lobby.
Not like he had much choice with the latter-half. The intruders had used sedatives—Shiro could barely move by the time any reinforcements arrived, he was lucky he could be treated at the precinct instead of being hauled over to the hospital.
There’s no convincing him of any immunity, though. A good guard wouldn’t have let intruders get past the front doors, must less stick him full of tranquilizers. Shiro even felt a pinch of shame over how eagerly Katie received him. Given the circumstances, she should be screaming at him. Being terminated by a twelve year old would be a fitting end to his time as a personal guard.
He buries all that ignominy in the wake of Katie’s abject state, though; she’s obviously scared, confused, and in need of consolation. Yet he can’t think of anything to say besides a long series of apologies.
I’m sorry I didn’t stop them. I’m sorry I didn’t protect your family. I’m sorry you were left alone. I’m sorry your father put so much faith in someone that failed him.
His hand moves from between her shoulder-blades to the back of her head, and Shiro hopes that somehow conveys at least a fraction of his remorse. Katie just peels her face away from his side to reveal a snotty, tearful look. It pierces straight through his heart and drops it somewhere at his feet. She looks so fragile, his blood boils when he remembers the intruder that had picked her up—kicking and screaming—by her hair.
“Takashi,” she only ever used his first name when serious, and her voice was as pitiful as her face, “I don’t want to be here anymore.”
Katie’s grip had loosened enough for Shiro to crouch down more around eye-level. His own hues are watery but the man’s jawline is tight; he’s trying to maintain a calm facade for Katie’s sake. He cups her face with one hand, and says in earnest, “I know, we just have to stay here a little longer while they figure things out. They need to decide who’ll be taking care of you.”
Immediately, Katie is whimpering, “I don’t want to be sent to some place! I want my family.”
Were this situation more mundane, Shiro might remind her that “young adults” don’t whine. This isn’t the place to assert etiquette; if anything, Shiro wishes he could cave in to her doe eyes. If only he could pull the Holts out of his pocket like an extra piece of candy. Unfortunately, Shiro can’t succumb to her sniffles, or even the way her little hand rest over his.
He might as well been curb-stomped.
“I’m sorry, Katie,” somehow, he keeps his voice from wavering, but there’s no denying just how soft it just went, “you’ll need to stay somewhere while they look for your family.��
Her bottom lip trembles and Katie pulls away from him before more or less crumbling into the armrest. Shiro could hear some muffled hiccuping, meaning Katie had finally broken into full-blown sobbing. He’s taken aback for a tick—unsure whether this is a cue to give her space or smother her in his arms. Neither option sound quite right, so Shiro opts to brush back her hair as he whispers ever so gently, “Hey, they’ll probably send you to Kaylana. You know she’ll take good care of you until your family is rescued.”
Her head shifts, like she had been shaking it no, then she speaks in a muffled tone, “But she lives so far away. They’re probably just going to send me somewhere on Earth. What if the kidnappers come back? What if I end up with someone who’ll just use me for dad’s name?”
Shiro felt something fold over in his gut. He wants to pat her back until these dramatics subside, but there’s no denying that there is some validity to Katie’s worries. The kidnapping was very clearly a coordinated attack, and what’s more, the kidnappers had aimed for all the Holts.
Sam made sense. Shiro only ever stood outside the meeting hall or lab doors, but that man had dealings with almost every colony in this quadrant and Central Command. He had enough clout to be a prime target for rebels and foolhardy bounty hunters. If someone had targeted not just him, but his whole family, then something nefarious was brewing, and Katie was apart of it.
A second kidnapping was likely, and if not, then there were plenty of low-leveled officials that would see her being orphaned as a chance to bolster their career. Taking custody of a Holt child would put them in the favor of dozens of different diplomatic figures.
Admittedly, Shiro can feel his sense of reason start to fray at the edges. These concerns had standing, but they were based off the assumption that her case would only be treated haphazardly. He can imagine why Katie feels that way after she’s been left here all alone, and he tries not to agree.
Again, he smooths out her hair. It’s getting harder and harder to steel his expression into something cool and collected, He’s only managing it now because Katie is crying into the armrest. “That isn’t going to happen. You’ll be protected, I promise.”
Shiro bites his lip when Katie shows the white of her eyes. They’re wet, puffy, and continuously overflowing with fat teardrops. “Does that mean you’re staying with me?”
His reluctance to answer or even meet her eyes in answer enough. Katie sits up again; by this point, she’s well past pride, and feels no shame in exposing her ugly crying face. “But who’s suppose to protect me then? You promised you’d always be there.”
Shiro winces at that. He knows the exact moment she’s talking about, too—back when she was much younger, and he had first been assigned to the Holts. He had made a big, noble pledge about how he’d protect her from all monsters and creeps, and this is the first time he ever regretted it. “I’m.. not going to be assigned to you anymore after tonight.”
He failed. And Sam had been the only thing keeping him from some military outpost. The Garrison scored him as perfect solider material, and various generals had hounded after him before Sam made a request for a personal guard. Shiro does not mention this; that’s not Katie’s problem, and this is a fate he deserves at this point.
Katie didn’t care about any of Shiro’s brooding though, and she grapples onto one of his arms like it might’ve been a stuffed animal that was being taken away from her. “No, you can’t leave me!”
He winds up with an armful of snot, but Shiro only moves to try and calm her. Katie’s hold turns into a death grip, and eyes seethed with a sound dissent at Shiro’s quiet, little, “Katie.”
“You’re suppose to protect me! You can’t leave me here-- They’re going to send me to someplace horrible, or the kidnappers are just going to come back. Please, Shiro, don’t leave me here.”
She was picture-perfect is someone ever wanted to phorogrpah desperation. Shiro stared right into those tearful, honey eyes and felt a little bit of his soul wither away.
He closed his own eyes and sighed something long and tired. Shiro wanted to remind himself that he was too close to the situation. He was reading into it, just trying to insert himself back into the narrative. There’s the clanking of metal boots somewhere behind them that catches his attention instead. Of course, it was a Galra solider (That clanking was always a precursor to being berated at the Garrison). For a second, she seemed to be heading for them—perhaps to act as escort for Katie to some actual accommodations—but the woman simply passes through. Probably making some rounds; you could always find a solider or sentry on patrol in any big or heavily-populated space.
Either way, she was just another body in this hall of white noise.
Shiro’s eyes still trail after the solider for a handful of moments, though. He eyed her armor specifically, and felt bile raise in his throat at the sight of it. Despite all his shame, Shiro can’t quite stomach the thought of being fitted into his own armor (His doubts with the empire were repressed somewhere in his subconscious, then masked over with simple repulsion). It almost happened to him once already, but Sam had saved him from that fate.
Now his daughter was clinging onto him like he was her lifeline, begging for his help with every fiber of her being.
Shiro looks back into her eyes and sees a reflection of Sam. All the sudden, Shiro feels the flighty sense of impulse in his chest steel over, and scans the whole of the lobby. There’s all sorts of people—either milling about or working at different terminals, but no one’s paying attention to them. It would take something obnoxious or truly suspicious to draw any eyes.
Keeping his voice low, Shiro carefully eases his arm out of Katie’s grip, and mutters under his breath, “Keep your head down low and don’t make any sound.”
Katie’s brows raise up with momentary confusion before she nods. Her tears are finally thinning out, and she sniffles one last time as Shiro stands back up. As big as Katie might be getting, Shiro can still pick her up like she’s six. Katie easily fits into the position, and tucks her head into the space between Shiro’s shoulder and neck—just as he instructed.
She also digs her fingers into the collar of her uniform, and Shiro settles his hand against the back of her hand in turn. This way, her hair wouldn’t be noticeable. He doesn’t waste any further time situating her; Shiro pivots around, then makes his way to the main doors. His pace was brisk pace, but not too much so.
Being nonchalant was key here. There was a little bubble of paranoia forming in his chest, and Shiro imagines Katie is experiencing the same anxiety—her grip was getting tighter and tighter. There were dozens of people in their peripherals, and all all they had to do was notice her. Shiro just swallows hard and keeps his eyes forward; he could already see the nighttime sky through the glass doors.
Once he got Katie through them, it was just a matter of finding a shuttle and leaving before anyone noticed they were gone. He been trained to fly just about any standard ship, and stealing one from the precinct lot wouldn’t be hard—security was minimal unless you were in a military facility.
Step by step, Shiro made a sort of catalog of things they’d need immediately, and how to get his hands on them (He had practice when he was young, and dreamt about running away to live in nebulous clouds).
As nerve-wrecking as every step was (Traitor, traitor, traitor), there’s no denying the burst of excitement that Shiro felt when the cool, night air finally hit them. He rubs reassuring circles into Katie’s back as that giddiness starts to mix with his neuroticism into a manic cocktail.
He’s finally escaping.
They just need to get out of here before he’s found kidnapping a diplomat’s daughter.
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Sleepypie’s Guide to Kdrama Love: or, 10 Steps to What is TOTALLY a Healthy Relationship*
I wrote a thing. Did you miss me?
Have you ever wondered how all those kdrama girls do it? Do you too yearn to enact their principles in your life and achieve the same effect? Yearn no more! Here's my handy ten step guide to making a relationship work, k-drama style! Step 1: Be a Candy Remember, you must be poor but plucky, working a multitude of small-paying part-time jobs and living in cramped rooftop apartment. You must be absolutely wallowing in debt you've inherited, yet still face each coming day with a brave smile and optimistic, can-do attitude. Family's a no-no, unless it's a) your beloved father in a coma he won't wake up from, whose expensive hospital bills you must pay, b) an evil stepsister who devotes her every spare moment to making your life hell, or c) a missing brother you worry about and look for, but who will only conveniently reappear at the end to alleviate any worries about your right to be happy or the potentially incestuous nature of your romance. Do try and have one female friend you will be able to turn to for relationship advice in the future. Her advice will always be terrible, but that won't matter, she's just there to point out that you like your romantic lead before you're willing to admit it yourself. Don't worry if she's better at makeup and fashion than you are. Although you will always complain about being poor and ugly, you will be effortlessly beautiful at all times, your clothes will always be name-brand, and as a bonus, your cell phone will always be the newest model. On the flip side, I hope you like subway.
Step 2: Meet Cute It's time to meet the love of your life! Now, he must be strikingly handsome, impossibly rich, and, most importantly, an apparently ice-cold bastard (don't worry, he's actually a giant softie hiding a tragic past behind those barriers and just waiting for the right girl to come along and teach him the power of love. We'll get to that in Step 3). Remember, it's important you meet in an unplanned, painfully awkward way that leaves him with a strong distaste for you. Tried and true methods include forcing him to give you a lift in the rain, throwing up on him during a plane ride, or tripping and making him catch you in one smooth graceful movement while his important papers for that big meeting that will define the rest of his life go flying. He should abandon you/make loud noises of despair and disgust/drop you at the earliest possible moment. Congratulations! You are now fated to be. Don't forget to call him a rude bastard once he's gone! Step 3: Forced Proximity The most important step. Somehow or other, you and the One must be forced to spend copious amounts of time together. This can be for almost any reason--maybe you've started working at his company, maybe you two enter a contract relationship for whatever reason (usually it's to get his matchmaking mother off his back, but bonus points if he wants one of your organs or its his crackpot grandfather's idea), maybe he moves into your house against your protests because he's being hounded by reporters and needs a place to hide. Regardless of the whys, you are now obligated to breathe each other's air for large quantities of time. Don't worry if it leads to a plenty of friction initially--that's normal! Soon, you'll realize all that bickering you do is actually cover for your simmering sexual tension. Arguments will now end with long, lingering gazes at each others lips. Curse words will start to be endearments. You will both quickly realize how noble and kind the other actually is, despite misleading first impressions. To hasten this process, I suggest shared babysitting sessions, eating homecooked meals at your table (don't be surprised if he's never had a homecooked meal before--his parents have usually never had time for him, and he will probably burst into spontaneous tears over the first mouthful), and drinking beer together on your rooftop, star-gazing. These situations are very conducive to deep conversations that don't seem to have much context--don't worry about that. You are Baring Your Souls to each other, an important part of the process. If you get the chance to be in a life-endangering situation, seize it, so he can rescue you dramatically, and then reproach you for being foolish, thus revealing how deeply he does actually care.
Step 4: Jealousy Right about now, his First Love should reappear on the scene. She will be, without a doubt, Unpleasant, especially to you, since she will sense how close you and the One have become merely by witnessing you two laughing together as you walk care-freely down the street (I suggest you be coming back from something he originally protested was for children--an amusement park, perhaps--but which he came to deeply enjoy. Be eating ice cream and get some on his nose for added effect, as his playful retaliation will reek of repressed emotions). He, however, will not be able to see this, and will instead be incredibly confused by her reappearance. He will try very hard to reconnect with her, refusing to believe he has changed since meeting you (a lamentably useless denial, since everyone else can clearly see, and frequently mentions, how much nicer he seems). This will be a bleak time for you, as you will be deeply saddened by his apparent affection for Another. Luckily for you, the Second Lead will be around to catch you! He will have been a neighbor, co-worker, or someone you viewed as a kid brother. He will do everything in his power to be there for you, though he will never explicitly state his affection (don't worry, second leads never do). Unfortunately, nothing will cheer you up. You will be constantly reminded of the One by strangely specific things--a cup of coffee, a floating balloon, a teddy bear--immediately saddening you. Don't be too downcast! Unbeknownst to you, the One will witness you apparently being happy with the Second Lead and be absolutely consumed by an ironic jealousy, leading him to do all kinds of delightfully petty things you own't understand and find peculiar.
Step 5: The Kiss Good job, you've made it to your hallmark moment, the one that that will set the seal on your relationship with the One, affirming you will survive any and every obstacle thrown at you (there will be many), and haunt you in a series of never ending flashbacks for the rest of your romantic life! The One has finally been pushed to the breaking point, and is no longer able to deny the strength of his passion. Depending on the sub-species of drama hero you have acquired, the kiss may take one of several shapes. It may be exquisitely planned, with fireworks, roses, and a heart-stopping declaration of love. More frequently, it is a surprise to both of you, the culmination of weeks of building tension. You will always be in a beautiful location. You will always look stunning. He will always look stunning. You will probably have been fighting immediately before. When he kisses you, remember to stand stiffly, staring transfixed before you with shock. If emotions are especially wrought, you may cry, so that he may wipe the tears away with his fingers. . If you're unlucky, you might not remember this first kiss due to temporary ghostly possession or his penchant for freezing time at significant moments. But odds are that means you get a second first kiss! Who doesn't love that? And on the positive side, from now on, the One will be incredibly sweet, self-sacrificing, and adoring. He will not in any possible way resemble the man you first met. Except he will still be smoking hot. Savor this moment, because you will shortly be very unhappy indeed
Step 6: The Obstacles I warned you they were coming, didn't I? Because now that you and the One have kissed and thus declared your undying passion for each other, his family will rise up in protest. They will seek to humiliate you at every opportunity, try to bribe you to leave him with money (you must be deeply affronted by this, and bravely choking back your tears, condemn them for not realizing you have pride and that not everything can be bought), and/or destroy your life by any possible means. I would suggest investing in insurance, because you are about to be kicked out of your home, lose your job and gangsters will shortly corner you in alleyway (don't worry, the One will save you, if only so he can berate himself later for bringing all this down on your head). If he has no family (this is rare, and means he is either an alien, a time-traveler, or a cartoon character transported to your world by an unexplained deus ex machina), he will realize that he will soon be compelled to return to his planet/time/dimension by impenetrable forces, leaving you vulnerable to the enemies he has made on your planet/time/dimension who will seek vengeance on you as soon as his back is turned.
Step 7: The Noble Idiocy Sigh. It's unavoidable, so grind your teeth now and get it over with. The One, deciding that somehow he is making your life miserable/endangering you, will decide to leave you. He won't explain why--instead, he'll give you a terrible reason for leaving. Usually it's something far more stupid and hurtful, like he never actually loved you and that you were just an amusement. He will then vanish from your life, returning to his original sphere like he never left it, and plunging everyone's life into untold clouds of freaking gloom. Go ahead and sob, no one's judging you. It's not your fault your boyfriend makes shitty decisions like a little kid instead of talking things over with you like an adult. If it makes you feel better, he's even more miserable, and he spends an ungodly amount of time staring at the little trinket you gave him that one time, pining for days gone by. If it wasn't so stupid, it would be hilarious. Step 8: The Reunion You will unexpectedly bump into each other on the street or at the office, and he will gaze at you soulfully. You will turn away, still deeply hurt by his abandonment, but it's all going to be ok, because now having seen you in person once more, all the moronic reasons this seemed like a good idea to him in the first place will become irrelevant and he will start popping up in your life like a toadstool, giving you the chance to exact petty but oh-so-satisfying vengeance if you so desire. I suggest so desiring. It's massively entertaining. But only push him to the point where he confesses why he left in the first place, and then melt like the marshmallow you are. You may have to chase after him in the rain, but it's fine--it will provide a particularly striking backdrop to your makeup kiss and give him the opportunity to shelter you with his umbrella, letting himself get unnecessarily soaked in the process (he'll probably be ill afterwards and collapse, but don't worry. Let him lie in bed a few days, with a saline solution and spoon feed him porridge and he'll be right as rain. Er. No pun intended.) Step 9: The Final Problem Everything that came before was build-up for this, and now you must face down whatever issue has cast a cloud over your fated relationship all this time. Is one of you dying? Has one of you promised to go to jail for the other? Has his family threatened to disinherit him if he continues to see you? Fret not, everything will be magically cleared away. There will be a miracle cure, a guns drawn showdown where the actual murderer is finally caught, or his domineering father will have a stroke and become a much kinder, gentler person. Along the way, it will be revealed that you and the One actually met as children, either only briefly or were best friends until one of you moved/lost your family/faked your own death, and in reality are each other's long forgotten First Loves. Smell that? That's Fate. Finally, you're almost there!
Step 10: The Ending This is the trickiest part to pull off, but having made it this far, I'm sure you can do it. It's clear to you and to everyone else you and the One will be together forever now. Nothing can tear you apart. But do you want to get married right away in a big, beautiful ceremony? Do you want to date for awhile, spending a lot of time sitting in front of beautiful sunsets with the One? Do you choose to inexplicably study abroad for a brief period of time, returning only then to fully consummate your love? The choice is yours, but whatever you choose, you've earned a stunning conclusion to all your suffering. *not applicable to sageuk storylines which are more inclined to heavily feature torture, blood feuds, hanboks, flowing hair, horses, and reincarnation. See my Ten Steps to Surviving a Sageuk for that one.
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