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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

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Partner

Ethan Winters (Resident Evil Biohazard) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Spoilers for Resident Evil 8:Village, Swearing, Mentions of injury

Genre: Angsty Fluff, Comfort

Summary: Following the final battle in the Dimitrescu Castle, Ethan is surprised to stumble upon a person who witnessed the whole debacle, offering him a safe place to patch up his wounds and rest for a little while.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request! So sorry you’ve had to wait so long but here it finally is! Hope you come across it and enjoy reading it! Love, Vy ❤

“That was...something else.“ Ethan Winters mutters to himself as he limps his way out of the Dimitrescu Castle which is now vacant in terms of residence - his doing. He killed Alcina Dimitrescu and her daughters, all arguably in self defense and with little guilt to follow. However, plenty of trauma’s definitely attached to him following the horrific events he had to go through and the things he had to see between the walls of those luxurious rooms hiding dark secrets of the vampires who took pleasure in torturing people, and wreaking havoc over the villagers who feared them.

“At least they won’t hurt anyone any longer.“ He tells himself, giving the monster of a structure one final look before he continues back towards the center of the village where he’s gonna rethink what he’s got to do next, gather his bearings, take a breath and keep going. He has no other option but to keep going, he won’t allow himself to quit no matter what danger he faces. In his mind, he’s convinced himself that he’s already seen the worst, it’s easier on him that way, it suppresses the fear he’d feel otherwise. The last thing he wants is to think what’s in store for him ahead, he’d rather focus on what’s up to him to do next.

“And we can’t thank you enough.“

The sudden presence of an unfamiliar voice startles him, causing him to whip out his gun and point it in the direction it came from. However, he quickly finds his deadly tight grip loosening ever so slightly because he realizes he’s pointing the barrel at a very human-looking and seemingly harmless person.

“Who are you? Who’s ‘we’?“ Ethan still refuses to let his guard down though, just cause it may not be a life or death situation, doesn’t mean this person won’t bring him trouble and Lord knows that’s the last thing he needs right now.

On instinct, the person takes a step back, “I speak on the behalf of all the remaining villagers. I mean, it was only a matter of time before we too became victims in the Dimitrescu Castle basement. I was next, actually, but the commotion you created allowed for me to escape. I owe you my life, foreigner.“ The speak hurriedly and in a hushed tone, as if the fear of their torturers overhearing them still lives within them despite the monsters being deceased.

“Glad I could help you.“ He nods curtly, remaining at the distance of seven feet between them, “My name’s Ethan Winters by the way.“

They give him the tiniest of smiles, “Y/N L/N, pleased to meet you.” Their gaze gives him a quick onceover, assessing the damage the horrors of the castle have inflicted on him. Their eyes widen in shock at the many bleeding wounds all over his body but what appears to rattle them most is the severe injury that’s causing his limp as well as the missing finger - a poorly wrapped would that has surprisingly not started getting infected yet. “Look, I know you don’t trust me, but I don’t trust you to take care of yourself either. I live in that windmill over there in the outskirts, come with me, I’ll help you with...well, with all that. You seem rather hopeless at medical care.”

While he could refuse their offer, he wouldn’t be able to deny the fact that they’re right - he knows the basics of first aid, but his injuries are far too gone for simple first aid, especially when taken into account that he doesn’t even have any supplies. How he’s not died from blood loss is a surprise to him as much as it is to them.

“What’s my guarantee you won’t turn on me?“ He finally asks after a decent amount of time contemplating it.

They shrug, “You have none. But, you have the guarantee that if I turn on you, you’ll be the one coming out of that altercation alive.” Their gaze sizes up the guns he’s got on him, emphasizing their point.

Suddenly, Ethan feels sorta ridiculous - after all, guns or no guns, he could probably take on them easily with just his knife. Regardless, no one can blame him for being cautious. “Fine.“ He mutters, “But please don’t turn on me, I’ve already had one hell of a day.“

Y/N nods, motioning for him to follow them, “I promise I won’t.”

* * *

“Wow, what a back-stabber! Some friends you have, Winters.“ Y/N comments as they set down a cup of tea on the small wooden table in front of the freshly patched up Ethan.

Turns out, he made the right move by trusting them - they used to be the village’s main nurse until it all went to hell and they went to hide in the shadows of their windmill where they, as evidenced, still are today. That being said, not only did they have all the necessary equipment to fix him up, but they also had the skills and knowledge needed to use that equipment.

“There are those friends who borrow money from you and never pay you back and there are those who shoot your wife randomly while you two are trying to have dinner. Two types of friends out there really.“ He sighs, his tired, a thousand yard stare following the path of the steam levitating from the cup that’s been placed in front of him. “I have no time to dwell on that right now though. My daughter is in grave danger and I have no idea where I should even start looking for her.“

Y/N sits down on a chair opposite his, “Well, you’ve already defeated one of the village Lords looking for Rose, process of elimination should reveal where she is - wherever she is, it has to be one of the Lords’ residence. Mother Miranda trusted Lady Dimitrescu most so it’s a wonder why she wasn’t there, but then again, Heisenberg’s factory is damn near impenetrable, one cannot enter unless he wants them to so she could have entrusted her precious cargo to him.”

“How do I get to that fucker?“ Ethan tightens his hand into a fist, squeezing so tightly his knuckles turn white. There’s so much within him, so much that’s happened to him, so much in such a short amount of time and he’s had no time to deal with any of it. He’s a volcano waiting to erupt, but he has to do so at the right time - in front of the right danger to show he’s not hopeless or weak as his opponent may think. “Where do I find him?“

“He’s in the outskirts too just on the other side of the village.“ They sigh, regretting every word they are saying since they know they are just feeding him information on how to get himself in the worst kind of danger he’s probably ever been in. “That key you have, it’s not complete to access his quarters yet. By the looks of it...“ they observe the key Ethan has placed on the table, “You can only get to Lord Donna Beneviento’s estate, and I wouldn’t suggest heading there before you heal at least a bit more. Her and her dolls are a real nightmare. Of course, I haven’t experienced it for myself, but the stories are enough to get an idea.“

“So you’re telling me I have to waste my time with the little fish before I can finally get to Rose? You know how long that’ll take? You know how long she’ll have to be at the mercy of a fucking lunatic until I can finally save her?!“ Ethan snaps, banging his fist against the table, bad idea considering his hand’s been just patched up. The impact sends a jolt of pain up his arm that makes him hiss.

“I get it, I understand, Ethan. But you are a lot less likely to get to your daughter if you’re dead, you know.“ Y/N cautiously explains, their eyes narrowing a bit as they wait for the pearl white bandages to soak crimson, sighing in relief when they don’t. “Speaking of how likely you may or may not be to get to her on time, I’d also have to mention your odds would be significantly higher if you were to receive help from someone else. You’d need someone to have your back throughout all the shit you’re about to go through, especially Heisenberg’s factory where two eyes are not enough to track each and every threat that might pounce at you.“

Calmer now, Ethan gives them a puzzled look, “What are you suggesting?“

“I’m suggesting - well, I’m offering you my partnership.“ They explain, watching his expression change to one of knowing and understanding. “Of course, you’d have to give up one of those guns and hand it down to me, but I think that’s a small price to pay in exchange for an extra pair of eyes and limbs to guard and help you.“

Ethan’s first instinct is to decline. He can’t afford to see another person dying around him or because of him, he wouldn’t be able to stand it. But then again, just like he had no guarantee they wouldn’t turn on him, he has none that they’ll die. Of course, he’ll do everything in his power to keep them and himself alive and they don’t seem like they are in it to half-ass it either. Quite the contrary, they seem perfectly determined and ready to face the same shit he’s about to.

“What do you get in return?“ He asks, his gaze suspiciously measuring each line on their face to gauge their true intentions. He’s a complete stranger to them, they’d have no reason to be this selfless for him, it’s obvious they are aiming at something bigger.

Y/N scoffs, leaning back in their chair with a small bitter smile on their face, their gaze resting on the tabletop and avoiding his, “You really wanna know? I want my revenge - revenge for what they did to this village, to me, to so many people I cared about and to those I didn’t even know. But...” they trail off, pausing to sigh out a heavy sigh before continuing, “But I also wanna redeem myself. I knew I should’ve done all in my power to stop them when their havoc was still on the rise, I knew I should’ve done more, but I didn’t. And now I’ll die trying.”

“You won’t die.“ He says sharply, barely a second after the last word left their lips, “I won’t allow it.“ He adds, taking a bit of the edge off his voice.

Their eyes come up to meet his, searching for what he means, “Does that mean...“

“It sure does, partner.“ Within the blink of an eye, his pistol is on the table, fully loaded and free for their taking, “You just give a green light and we’re off.“

Y/N lets out a sound between a laugh and a gasp as their hands quickly wrap around the gun, looking at it in disbelief before whispering a quick ‘thank you’. Ethan allows them to marvel at it for a bit longer but they don’t wait another second. “Get your ass up, Winters. We have monsters to kill.”

He needn’t be told twice

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lokiondisneyplus · 3 years ago

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After spending over 30 years in the world of makeup design for film and television, Douglas Noe landed in the time-defying, creative playground of Marvel Studios' Loki. Serving as the Disney+ show's makeup department head, Noe not only designed the characters' individual looks, but continued to be Tom Hiddleston's makeup artist. Noe has worked on Hiddleston's Loki since 2012's The Avengers, carefully evolving the God of Mischief's look over time.

Loki isn't the first time Noe has spearheaded a makeup department for a Marvel Cinematic Universe production. Previously, Noe served as the makeup department head for Thor: The Dark World's additional photography -- making up approximately 20% of the film's final looks. He's also no stranger to the magic of prosthetic work and the intricate details needed for Marvel's epic adventures, having a creative hand in bringing both Captain Marvel's Skrulls and Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Kree to life on-screen. In the industry, Noe is also known for specializing in palettes for actors of color and has worked on stars like Jackie Chan.

In an exclusive interview with CBR, Noe discussed what it was like bringing The Avengers-era God of Mischief into Loki and his approach to doing makeup on a production stuffed with special effects. He also shared which MCU stars have graced his chair and his advice for makeup departments looking for practical ways to de-center whiteness.

Loki's Makeup Evolution

CBR: One thing that I noticed -- which I'm excited to pick your brain about -- when we first see Loki, he has a really pale complexion. His hair is greasy. As he evolves, his skin gets a warmer look. Was that an intentional progression from when we first see him as a villain-ish and how he grows within the MCU?

Douglas Noe: Yes, that's a very astute observation. Of course, at the beginning of The Avengers, he's kind of a wreck, isn't he? And as he settles and normalizes, his pallor then indeed calms down. It was very nuanced. It was only a matter of maybe one or two shades difference, but you definitely caught something most people have not.

That was 10 years ago, but it was a very minor detail we decided would be important as the narrative and the dialogue and the intellect of that character evolved into the storyline. It became important to kind of mainstream and refine his appearance.

Since Loki kicks off from that earlier version of Loki, did you think about bringing any more of that paleness to his look? How did you decide on how you wanted to show him from Loki's time period/first episode?

Oh, that's a good question. The truth is, from the end of The Avengers also shot again in Avengers: Endgame, we change nothing.

We did exactly what we did on Endgame that we did for The Avengers. And in turn, that's how we started the Loki series. It was that that look from Endgame, which, of course, is the look from The Avengers. No alterations were made, other than -- and I can already tell we're not getting anything past you -- we did warm him up. We did bring some more flesh into him... The truth is, that was Tom's idea. I get it because it was an unspoken understanding between us that there's greater accessibility to Loki if he looks more like most people. Now, those are my words. Not his. But, he definitely wanted us to warm it up just a skosh.

How Loki's SFX Affected Its Makeup Design

With Loki, there's a ton of visual effects. With makeup, it's so dependent on lighting -- it can change everything. What was the biggest challenge about working on a show like this that has so many special effects being added in post?

What you just said, it's working on a show like this. Marvel gets it and they do it right. There's almost an aspect where we lean into these kinds of things. And we change nothing to take into account the constantly evolving and changing lighting effects. The approach was to keep everybody natural, or naturally beautiful. Whatever happened happened. [We] knew Marvel is going to give it the once over once it's all done. And if there was anything to address that did happen because of lighting, it would have happened in post.

But, to my knowledge, nothing was addressed. We just accepted that. At certain times, people would be pink because of the light. They would be blue because of the light or purple and we accepted that and didn't try to make any attempts to balance it or right it in any way. We leaned into it and accepted it made it part of the story. It was its own character, if you will.

Sylvie's Makeup Was Always Meant To Be "Natural"

Building off what you said about a natural look for Loki's actors, did you always know you wanted Sylvie's makeup to have a natural look?

Absolutely, absolutely. The approach there was less is more. We didn't want to bury her in beauty makeup. It would have been very easy to do, because Sophia Di Martino is gorgeous, of course. But, the idea was let's do just enough to keep her naturally beautiful.

Practical Ways To De-Center Whiteness In Makeup Rooms

You designed Hunter B-15's look, and you're well known in the industry for specializing in makeup palettes for people of color. Since you've been in the industry for so long, what are some practical things that people within the makeup department, or its heads, can do to make it less white-centered?

That's a great question. Get out of the way. You have room for everybody, especially with today's explosion of content. But I would say to those who are going to hold tightly that they may as well just squeeze it out of their hands, "Just understand color theory." And, have it in your head that if somebody wants someone to do their makeup that closer represents how they look, get out of the way. It really is that simple. As you said, I've made it a specialty, a rite of passage to learn the ins and outs of all color tones. For me, I bring that to the table, so I don't have to get out of the way; but I know enough to know when it is time.

I have an anecdote that relates. I just did the Netflix series [True Story] with Kevin Hart and Wesley Snipes for eight episodes. And Tawny Newsome [who portrays Billie in the upcoming series] was our leading lady, a beautiful African American woman. I could have done a bang-up job, but that wasn't the right decision to make. She needed a female makeup artist because it was a modern beauty glam look we were going to do on her. Now I do get modern beauty glam very well, but I wanted somebody that would do it great. So I got out of the way.

What's one, nitty-gritty thing that helped in expanding your understanding of color theory? Any books or makeup brands?

Oh, well, I could talk about makeup brands all day long. But, again, go back to the color theory. Get a color wheel from an art store. If you don't know how to mix colors, how to make primary and secondary colors to get tertiary colors, get a color wheel and be a sponge. I'm, what, 36 years in this career? 31 in film. I've never stopped learning. I'm never closed off to garnering new info. And when I don't, again, I get out of my way. I'm not up to snuff on this contemporary modern book with the square eyebrows, so I hired somebody that was.

But, getting back to your point, there are so many books. I have countless books on this very topic. I would say, "Be patient, learn color theory. And accept that, especially now, we're in an era where you may just have to get out of the way. And let it be what the person in the chair wants it to be." Because, ultimately, that's who we're there for, the actors.

You've been working in Marvel's world for a long time. What's one Marvel character that you would love to do their makeup or prosthetics?

I've never thought about it because, to be honest with you, I feel like I won the lottery. When we started with doing Loki on The Avengers, we didn't know what was gonna happen. I'm trying to think, hmm. On Captain Marvel, I was doing Skrulls -- that was fun. I did some work on Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. when they had a couple of episodes with Kree.

They were so cool.

Right? I'm trying to think -- I did mention to somebody before that on The Avengers I was given the choice: [Jeremy] Renner or [Mark] Ruffalo or this new guy called Tom Hiddleston. The makeup was described to me and I was told that Hulk was going to beat him up a little bit and we were going to do a little something-something and they asked, "What do you want to do?" And I said, "I want to do a little something-something." So, I landed with Tom.

I'd have to really think, "Who would I like?" I've done Lizzie Olsen's makeup for the Tom Hiddleston film I Saw the Light. I've done Idris Elba's makeup a couple of times for a couple of Marvel films, but also for a movie called Takers. And I worked with him on a movie called The Reaping. He's a gem, of course... I'm really happy with who sits in my chair at the beginning of every day on these things. I've never thought past that. I garner so much pleasure and we have so much joy together. I'm happy where I'm at... I'm happy with Loki. I love Loki.

Well, Loki is coming back for Season 2, so you never know who will pop in the chair.

I've heard we're coming back, but that's all I've heard. That's all I know. And that's truly wonderful for me because ignorance is bliss. Whatever they dream up, I'm always eager to jump in and be a part of it.

Buffy The Vampire Slayer's "Hush" Monsters Were Hand-Painted

Digging way back into your history, you were once a makeup designer on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which is one of my favorite shows! What's one thing about that era of monster-makeup that you don't think gets enough credit for doing?

I always refer to Buffy the Vampire Slayer as Buffy the Weekend Slayer because we would get off on Saturday morning as the sun was coming up and have to be back to work a couple of hours before the sun came up on Monday... What you see is what you get. You had to be on your game. We were real craftspeople back then and there was no margin for error. The words that go with CGI simply didn't exist in 1999. You really had to be on point with makeup.

I would say what's lost now is the notion that makeup always has to be perfect. We know now it doesn't have to be perfect because we can fix it in post. I think a lot of people would say that helps us, but I think it handicaps those of us that are able to deliver the product without a computer's touch.

I remember I did one of the gentlemen on Buffy's episode, "Hush." My boss, Todd McIntosh, was saying, "You got to do the back of the neck... You never know what's gonna happen. You have to make sure that the back of the neck has makeup on." And, sure enough, the camera goes by and they were supposed to leave the frame, but the camera follows them. We just had to be on point and I think now many artists who came into the business with CGI, don't understand what it's like to be grinding your teeth and clenching your fists on set, hoping it looks okay because there's nothing left to fix it for you.

#Douglas Noe #makeup #Loki #Tom Hiddleston

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dialovers-translations · 3 years ago

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Diabolik Lovers LUNATIC PARADE ;; Shuu Route ー Chapter 3

Monologue

“To heal Riegel-san’s heart,

broken and closed off to others

from losing his beloved.”

That was the goal we set in mind,

when preparing for this party.

I want it to be held at a place,

where Riegel-san would be able to relive,

vivid memories of himself and his late wife.

I am willing to go through great lengths,

to accomplish thisーー

ー The scene starts in the hotel room

Yui: ( First things first, we need to secure a venue. )

Shuu-san.

About the party venue, don’t you think we should hold it somewhere memorable to Riegel-san and his wife?

Shuu: Yeah...In that case, it’d have to be on a gondola, no?

Yui: On a...gondola...?

Shuu: If the information we gathered through the Familiars is correct, that is where Riegel and his wife tied the knot.

Coincidentally, it happened during the Parade as well.

If you want to make it memorable, now’s the perfect time, no?

Yui: You’re right...! I’ll go negotiate right away. Please wait here!

Shuu: ...Oi, hold your horses.

ー Shuu approaches her

Shuu: You’re going by yourself?

Yui: Um...Knowing you, I figured you’d rather not move...

Shuu: Yeah, I don’t. It’s a drag after all.

But...I’ll make an effort for you. (1)

Yui: Are you sure?

Shuu: Yeah. Let’s get going before I change my mind.

ー The scene shifts to the gondola docks

Yui: ( The reflection of the light on the water makes the surface glitter...How lovely. )

I’m sure meeting each other at such a lovely place must have made for a wonderful memory.

Shuu: ーー Well my bad that our meeting wasn’t all that ‘lovely’.

At first, you were just terrified the whole time after all.

Yui: T-That’s, well...You’re right, but...

Right now, I consider all of them good memories.

Shuu: Well, I guess that works. Haha...

ーー Anyway.

If we want to use this place as our party venue, we have to talk to the gondolier in the back.

Yui: Yes, I know.

( Here goes nothing! I’ll try and ask him. )

ー Yui approaches the gondolier

Gondolier B: Welcome! A ride for two?

Yui: Ah...Oh.

I’m sorry. Actually, we came here to ask for a favor...

Gondolier B: A favor...?

Yui: Yes.

You see, we are hoping to hold a party and...

We would love to organize it here.

Gondolier B: Eeh!? A party, right here!?

Yui: Yes. We want to hold it here no matter what.

Gondolier B: That’s easy for you to say, but the Parade is when we get most of our customers and when most of the money comes in.

I can’t just easily give you permission to use it.

Yui: Right...

( I guess we’re being pretty unreasonable. )

( However, I can’t imagine Riegel-san would prefer any other place over this one. I wonder if there’s really nothing that can be done...? )

Gondolier B: My bad, but we’re expecting a lot of people today as well. So I’d like to ask you to hurry up and leaーー

Shuu: ...Pwaah.

Gondolier B: ...! Y-You are...Karlheinz-sama’s...!

Geez! You should have told me that sooner!

Gotcha! Go ahead and organize whatever you want on the gondolas! My bad for being so unwilling earlier.

So...Please give my best regards to your Father.

Shuu: If I feel like it, I guess.

Yui: ( ...W-Wow...I’m not sure if I should say I saw this coming or what. )

*TIMESKIP*

Shuu: Haah...That concludes it for the venue.

So, what’s next on the list?

Yui: Um...

We can’t hold a party without food and drinks, huh?

It’d be nice if we could rely on the hotel as our main catering service but...

I’d also love to prepare a specific dish which was his wife’s favorite.

Shuu: If I recall correctly, the report we got from the Familiars described her as having a sweet tooth.

Yui: Exactly. For example, she was particularly fond of what we’d call a ‘Galette de Rois’ in the human world...

How about we go to a sweets shop which might be able to make it for us?

Shuu: ...I’m not too thrilled about this, but sure.

Yui : ( Fufu, I’m glad he’s still willing to come with me despite his complaints. )

ー The scene shifts to the Sweets Shop ‘Saphir’

Female Vampire A: Woah, looks delicious! As to be expected from Saphir, the number one sweets shop in the Demon World!

Female Vampire B: I don’t even know where to look first. I want to try them all...

Female Vampire C: In that case, we’ll just have to buy the entire line-up and take them home with us~

Yui: ( Wow...This place is packed with people...Just getting around the store seems difficult... )

Shuu: ...

I’m leaving the rest up to you. I’ll be...resting in the back.

ー Shuu walks away

Yui: ( Ah...He retreated to the eat-in area.... )

( Actually, I do feel a little bad for forcing him to be amongst such a large crowd. )

( I hope I can talk to a member of the staff soon... )

*Thud thud*

???: Hey, you! Move aside, move aside! Coming through with the cake!

Female Vampire A: Ah, it’s the owner! This scent...Aah, irresistible~

Yui: ( So that guy’s the owner! Okay, I should try and have a word with him...! )

U-Um! Excuse me!

Sweets shop owner: Hm? What do you want? I’m in a rush, so move aside!

Yui: I’d like to have a small talk with you! There’s a dessert I’d like to order by the final day of the Parade...

Sweets shop owner: An order by the end of the Parade? Not happening. Right now we are especially busy, I can use all the help I can get. (2)

Aah, so busy! I don’t know what to do first!!

Yui: ( No way... )

I-In that case...

Let me help out! I’ll try my hardest!

Sweets shop owner: No, no! There’s no way I canーー

ー More and more customers come in

Sweets shop owner: Hey, you! If you’re willing to help, then get to it!

In regards to what you asked earlier, depending on it, I might consider it.

Yui: Eh? Y-Yes! Understood...!

( I-I just have to give it my all for now! )

*TIMESKIP*

Female Vampire D: Please give me three more of these cakes.

Yui: Y-Yes!

Female Vampire E: Excuse me!? It was my turn first! Give me four of these first!

Yui: ( O-Oh no! It’s super busy...! )

Shuu: Nn...

Pwaah...

Yui: ( Ah...Seems like Shuu-san’s awake. )

ー Shuu walks over

Shuu: ...What are you doing?

Yui: As you can see, I’m helping out in the shop.

Female Vampire A: Hey, miss staff member! You’re in the way!

*Thud*

Yui: Wah!

*SHATTER*

Yui: ( Aah!? The plate broke! )

Shuu: Helping out? Like this?

Yui: ( Uu...E-Either way, I better clean up! )

ー Yui cleans up the shards

Shuu: Good grief...I can’t watch this...

Yui: ( Huh? Where is Shuu-san going...? )

Female Vampire A: Hmー If possible, I’d like at least one pie which isn’t too overly sweet...

But I have no idea which one to pick...

Shuu: ...In that case, I would recommend this. Not only does it cut back on the sugar, in turn it allows for the natural sweetness of the fruits to shine.

Female Vampire A: Oh dear, you seem very knowledgeable.

Yui: ( Wow... )

Female Vampire A: Right...In that case, I’ll take your recommendation and buy this one.

Shuu: You’re welcome.

ー Shuu returns to Yui’s side

Shuu: Well...There you have it.

Yui: You’re amazing, Shuu-san! The customer was delighted as well!

Shuu: Let me tell you, I’m not doing that a second tiーー

ー More customers approach them

Female Vampire B: We heard there’s a clerk who is especially knowledgeable on cakes here, but who could it be?

Female Vampire C: Anyway, I want to get a recommendation as well~?

Female Vampire D: Could it be the young man standing there!?

Female Vampire E: It has to be!

Yui: ( Ah...They found us. )

Shuu: ...

Seems like...I won’t be able to go for another nap.

Yui: ( Ahaha... )

*TIMESKIP*

Sweets shop owner: Honestly! Thank you so much for today! You helped me out a ton!

I don’t want to simply call this a way to return the favor so...

Please allow me to accept your request from earlier.

Yui: A-Are you sure?

Sweets shop owner: Yeah!

Doesn’t matter when you want it, I’ll make sure to fulfill my duty as the owner of this shop!

Yui: ( Hooray! )

Sweets shop owner: So? What kind of sweet treat is it?

Yui: Umーー

ー Yui explains

Sweets shop owner: I understand what you want very well.

You’ll have something to look forward to on the final day of the Parade!

Yui: Thank you very much!

ー The scene shifts back to the main street

Yui: It’s all thanks to you, Shuu-san! Thank you so much

Shuu: That was the first and final time I’ve done that, okay? ...Haah...

ーー So? What should we do next? We’re not done with all preparations, are we?

Yui: Um, I was thinking we should tackle the decorations for the gondola next.

Since we actually get to use it, I figured we might as well dress it up nicely.

Shuu: In that case...Reine de Aji’s shop could work, right?

Yui: Reine de Aji...?

Shuu: You’ll understand once we get there. Follow me.

Yui: ( ...? )

ー The scene shifts to general store Reine De Aji

Yui: ( Waah! There’s so many beautiful decorations out on display...! )

( I don’t know where to look first. )

How do you think we should decorate, Shuu-san?

Shuu: Anything works. I don’t really have a specific preference.

But well, personally, rather than the decorationsーー

*Thud*

Yui: ( Ah...They’re even selling antique violins. )

Shuu: I believe the music is what makes or breaks a party.

Yui: You might have a point.

Ah...Since it’s such a good opportunity, how about you play one song as well?

Shuu: No. Too much work.

Yui: ( Ahaha, I figured he’d say that... )

...I’d love to hear you play since it’s been so long though.

Shuu: ...

Yui: Is that too much to ask?

Shuu: Haah...Just a little, okay?

*Thud*

Shuu: ...

ー He starts playing the violin

Yui: ( What a beautiful melody... )

*THUD*

Shuu: ...Who’s there?

???: ...

Shuu: Aji, is that you?

Yui: ( So this is Aji-san. )

Reine de Aji: ...What exactly brings the eldest Sakamaki to my establishment?

Shuu: I don’t owe you an explanation. It’s none of your business, is it?

Reine de Aji: Hmph...If you don’t feel like answering my question, then I don’t feel like selling you anything either.

Yui: ( O-Oh no...! )

Aji-san! We’re actually planning to hold a party for a certain someone...

We came here to purchase the necessary decorations.

Reine de Aji: ...I see...

Well, in that case, you made the right choice by coming to my store.

After all, my line-up is rather extensive. On top of that...

I have a great offer.

*Rustle*

Reine de Aji: Voila.

Yui: A locket pendant...?

Reine de Aji: It’s not just your regular old pendant.

It’s a bewitched object which makes the wearer take the appearance of the person whose picture is put inside the locket.

Yui: W-Wow!

( Then...If we were to put a picture of Riegel-san’s wife inside...! )

Reine de Aji: Well then, this isn’t a demonstration. Better put it away again...

Yui: Ah! P-Please, wait! Could you please let us borrow that pendant?

Reine de Aji: This?

You make it sound so easy, but...

Yui: Is it too much to ask...?

Reine de Aji: ...

Under one condition.

In return for borrowing this pendant, you have to show me something good.

Yui: ...Entertain me...?

Reine de Aji: If no, it’s a no-deal. What will you do?

Yui: P-Please let me! I’ll try my best!

ー The scene shifts to Aizen Alleyway

Yui: ( I replied in the spur of the moment but... )

What do you think we could do to please Aji-san?

Shuu: ...

Yui: Shuu-san?

Shuu: Say...Do we even really need that pendant anyway?

Yui: ( Seems like he’s not too happy about the idea. But... )

I’m sure it’d make Riegel-san happy.

Shuu: ...

...Well, if you insist, fine.

Anyway, let’s try asking the people in town about whatever may catch Aji’s attention.

Yui: Y-Yes...!

ー The scene shifts to the main street

Male Vampire A: Hm...You’re kind of catching me off guard with the sudden question.

Yui: Anything will do. No matter how trivial...

Male Vampire A: ...

Yui: ...Ugh.

Male Vampire A: I’m sorry, I don’t know. Please ask someone else.

Yui: ...Okay...Thank you very much.

Male Vampire A: Bye.

ー The Vampire walks away

Shuu: ...That was our tenth try...What will you do? Give up already?

Yui: ...No. Why don’t we test our luck somewhere else? If we do, I’m sure we’ll...

( Gotta keep trying and not give up! )

ー The scene shifts to the wagon area

Yui: ( It’s even more crowded than earlier. One of these people might know something. )

( Okay...! I’ll try asking that person over there first. )

Excuse me...! I’d like to ask something...

Male Vampire B: ...Oh dear, what could that be?

Yui: Do you happen to know the person who runs a store over in the other street called Aji-san?

Male Vampire B: I do know her.

Yui: Actually, we want to make her happy somehow and...We were wondering if you knew any good ways to do so?

Male Vampire B: ...

...Hmー...

Yui: ( This time for sure...! )

Male Vampire B: My apologies, I doubt I’ll be of much help.

Yui: ...I see...

Male Vampire B: ...

If I had to name something I know about her...The only thing I could tell you is that she enjoys flora.

Yui: ...Flora...You say?

Male Vampire B: Yes. ...Oh, I made plans to meet up with someone, so you’ll have to excuse me now.

ー The Vampire walks away

Yui: T-Thank you very much!

( Flora, huh...? )

Yui: Um, Shuu-san? Why don’t we try giving her a plant she might like?

Shuu: ...I’m not sure. I can’t tell you whether that’ll actually please her or not.

Yui: But I don’t think we have much other choice but to rely on the information we just got...

Are there any stores selling plants nearby?

Shuu: I mean, there are, I guess.

Yui: ( Okay...! Let’s go take a look! )

ー The scene shifts to the garden store

Yui: This is the place...

( There’s so many plants I’ve never seen before! Guess I should have expected as much from the Demon World... )

...Amazing...

Shuu: Not really. They’ve only got plants which are commonly seen around the Demon World. I doubt any of these will please Aji-san.

In short...I feel as if we’re only wasting our time here?

Yui: S-Sorry...

( Hm...What a shame. Seems like we’re back to square one. )

???: ...Hm? Are you customers, perhaps? Welcome.

I’m the owner, so if you are looking for something, please ask away.

Yui: Thank you very much.

Garden store owner: My extensive knowledge on the flowers which grow in the Demon World is the one thing I pride myself on.

Yui: ...I see. In that case...

Which flower would make a person the happiest if they were to receive it as a gift?

Garden store owner: Everyone has different tastes.

But...A flower which can please everyone, can only be ‘that’.

Yui: ‘That’?

Garden store owner: Exactly. ‘That’ flower which only blooms in the mountains.

Yui: Only grows in the mountains...Then where exactly are these mountains?

Garden store owner: Don’t tell me...You want to go pluck one?

Yui: If it’s a flower which can make any person happy, then I’d like to if possible.

Garden store owner: I see.

I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I doubt it’ll work out.

...Well, I’m sure you’ll find out once you reach the mountains. I don’t mind drawing you a map.

Yui: ( I wonder what he means? )

ー The scene shifts the entrance of the mines

Yui: ( Um...I’m pretty sure we have to go right here...Then left at the next corner... )

ー The scene shifts to an underground lake

Shuu: Oi...We’re still not there yet?

Yui: P-Please wait. I’m pretty sure we’ve reached our destination...

According to the map, there should be a cave closeby.

Shuu: A cave?

Couldn’t it be that one over there?

Yui: Ah...!

Shuu: Good grief...You’re getting way too caught up in the map instead of actually looking at your surroundings.

Well, that being said, I’d rather not get ourselves lost again from walking around aimlessly.

Come on, let’s get going already.

Yui: Y-Yes!

ー The scene shifts to the Selenite Crystal Cave

Yui: ( Wow, it’s glittering somehow... )

What are these...?

Shuu: Selenite, right? Seems like the entire cave is made up from them.

Yui: ...I see...

Shuu: Oi, this isn’t the time to be captivated by them. Let’s look for the thing we came for.

Yui: Right.

( The shop owner didn’t tell us anything about the actual flower, did he? )

( ‘You’ll be able to tell straight away’ is the only hint we have... )

...Um...

*Flash*

Yui: ( ...? )

*Flash*

Yui: ( I’m not...imagining this, right? )

Shuu: ...Oi. Don’t you think that could be it? There’s been flashing lights coming from the back.

Yui: Let’s go look.

Monologue

What we found at the end of the path,

was a mysterious flower.

Covering the whole surrounding area,

they spread a warm light across,

shining amidst the dark like fireflies.

Their beauty is simply out of this world.

I subconsciously extended my hand towards the stem.

Howeverーー

*WOOSH*

Yui: ( I-It disappeared... )

Shuu: This must be the Ghost Flower.

Yui: Ghost Flower?

Shuu: Yeah, just like actual ghosts, you aren’t able to touch them.

Yui: ( So that’s why it vanished. )

( But...It was really pretty. I think I understand why anyone would be happy to see these flowers. )

( I’m sure Aji-san as well... )

...Um, Shuu-san? Can’t we get this flower to Aji-san’s store somehow?

Shuu: ...Haah...

Doesn’t seem like you’ll give up any time soon, so why don’t you try out some things?

Yui: ( Um...He’s basically saying he’ll stay here with me for now, right...? )

( F-For now, I’ll just try anything which comes to mind! )

*TIMESKIP*

*WOOSH*

Yui: Aah...Another fail...

( No matter how gently I touch them, it’s no use. Trying to pluck them from a different angle didn’t work either. )

( I guess it really is impossible... )

Shuu: ...

Yui: ( Shuu-san appears to be listening to music, but he seems bored. )

( But...There’s one more thing I’d like to try. )

( They disappear upon contact...So basically I have to avoid touching them, right? )

( I wonder if digging them up together with the soil would work then? )

( It’s all or nothing...Here goes...! )

*Thud thud*

Yui: ...! Shuu-san, look! The flower didn’t vanish...!

Shuu: Looks like it.

Yui: We can take it back with us to Aji-san’s store like this...! Aah, I’m so glad!

Shuu: ...

No, it’s too early to rejoice.

Try waiting a little like that.

Yui: ...?

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: ( I wonder how long I should wait? I’d guess about five minutes have passed by now. )

Shuu-san, what’s the point of thiーー

*WOOSH*

Yui: Ah!

Shuu: ...I knew it.

I figured that if all you had to do was scoop it out with soil and all, then the people from the garden shop would have long been doing that.

Yui: You...do have a point...

( There’s no way we can make it back to Aji-san’s shop in just five minutes. )

I wonder if it’s really impossible...

Shuu: ...No, that’s not true either.

Yui: Eh...?

Shuu: Let me ask you once more. ...You really want to borrow the pendant, right?

Yui: Well...Of course!

Shuu: Okay then.

ーー Oi. Dig out that ghost flower from the ground once more.

Yui: S-Sure.

( What could he be thinking? Anyway, I’ll just put faith in Shuu-san for now... )

*Thud thud*

Yui: Done.

Shuu: Okay. Now I just have to do this...

Yui: ( Why did he pick up a pebble...? )

Shuu: Thereーー!

*Swoosh*

*Thud*

*Flap flap flap flap flap*

Yui: Wah!? B-Bats!?

( They were startled by the sound of the rock and jumped out! Where did this many of them even come fromーー!? )

*Rustle*

Yui: Shuu-san!? What is this about...!?

Shuu: They can carry us to Aji’s store in under five minutes.

Yui: I seeーー

*Flap flap flap flap flap*

Yui: ...Wait, eeeeeh!?

Shuu: Wake me up when we’ve arrived.

*Flap flap flap flap flap*

Shuu: ...

Yui: ( Geez, Shuu... )

( O-Okay! I have to just let myself be carried. )

Monologue

I made up my resolve.

And decided to keep still,

as I let the bats carry me.

When taking a quick glance at the ground below,

I could see,

the ongoing Parade.

If I hadn’t gotten my heart stolen, then perhaps right now,

Shuu-san and I would also beーー

Such thoughts flashed through the back of my mind.

I shake my head, getting rid of those thoughts,

while continuing to pray,

that the Ghost Flower in my hands would not disappear.

ー The scene shifts to Reine de Aji’s store

*Flap flap flap flap flap*

Yui: ( W-We somehow got here before the Ghost Flower vanished. )

Shuu-san! Wake up, please! We’re here!!

Shuu: Nn...Pwaah...

That’s pretty fast. I wouldn’t have minded snoozing for a little longer...

Yui: More importantly, we should hurry up and find Aji-sanーー

*Flap flap flap flap flap*

Reine de Aji: W-What is this ruckus about!?

Yui: Ah, Aji-san!

Reine de Aji: You lot...! Are you trying to destroy my shop out of spite for not getting the pendant!?

Yui: N-No!

Take a look at this, please! We wanted to make you happy, so...

Reine de Aji: T-This is...Could it be, a Ghost Flower...?

The legendary flower, and the one flower in this world I had yet to see...

*WOOSH*

Yui: ( Aah, it vanished... )

Reine de Aji: ...

Yui: ( Oh no. The shop’s a mess because of the bats... )

( I guess...We failed to please her... )

Reine de Aji: That wasn’t an illusion just now, it was an actual Ghost Flower. I...

I’ve always wanted to see it here in my store, even if only once.

You did all of this just for me?

Yui: I just thought it’d be nice if it would make you happy...But I’m sorry you were only able to see it for such a short time.

Reine de Aji: Don’t sweat it. You made me plenty happy.

Furthermore, the fact they wither is exactly what makes flowers so beautiful.

ーー Thank you. I’m very pleased.

Yui: ( T-Thank god! Then... )

Reine de Aji: As promised...

*Cling*

Reine de Aji: I’ll lend you this pendant.

Yui: T-Thank you very much!

( We did it! )

Reine de Aji: Hey, you...Sakamaki.

Shuu: ...

Reine de Aji: I’ve written you guys off as lost causes for the longest time.

But you did all of this to make me happy. Especially this young lady over here.

...She’s quite the catch.

You chose your partner well. I suppose we should have expected as much from the eldest son of the family.

Shuu: Thank you.

Yui: ( I guess...she complimented me? It’s a little embarrassing but I’m happy. )

ー The scene shifts back to the hotel

*Cling*

Yui: ( If you put a picture inside this locket and put the necklace on, you can turn into that person...Huh? )

( Reevaluating it, it really is a mysterious thing. )

Anyway...We can hold the party without any trouble now.

Shuu: Yeah.

But...You’re forgetting one important thing.

Yui: Important...?

( What could that be? )

We’ve settled on the location, the cake and even got a surprise prepared...Which leaves...

Shuu: ...

Yui: Which leaves...?

Shuu: ...

Yui: U-Um...What do we still have left to do exactly?

Shuu: Good grief...

ー Shuu steps closer

Shuu: ーー Show your gratitude.

Yui: Excuse me?

Shuu: Show your gratitude to me.

Who’s to thank for making it this far into the preparations?

Yui: ( S-Starting with the gondola, I guess none of this would have been possible if Shuu-san hadn’t been there with me. )

Shuu-san, thank you so much for today.

I’m sorry for not saying this sooner.

Shuu: Just words won’t suffice.

In that case, let’s see...I wonder what I should ask from you instead?

I guess I should pose you the question for once.

Yui: U-Um...

( ...Something I can do... )

Selection

→ Give him a massage (☾)

Yui: ...Ah, right!

How about...a massage?

Shuu: A massage...

Yui: ( Uu, I feel like he’s appalled. )

I figured you must be exhausted, so I thought it wasn’t a bad idea...

Shuu: Haha...I guess it wouldn’t be bad every once in a while. Guess I’ll let you do your thing then.

Yui: Y-Yes...

*Rustle rustle*

Shuu: ...Oi. You can’t call that a massage. Put in a little more effort.

Yui: Okay.

*Rustle rustle*

Shuu: ...Phew...

*Rustle rustle*

→ Write him a letter of gratitude

Yui: In that case...How about I write you a letter of gratitude?

We can frame it and hang it on the wall at the manor, for example...

Shuu: ...

Yui: ( H-He looks disappointed. )

Shuu: Haah...Guess I’ll take the sentiment at least.

Yui: Yes...

( I guess it would have been way better to offer him a massage or something... )

( I’ll do that next time. )

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: ( Anyway...I’m glad preparations for the party went smoothly. )

( Ah...But... )

( Shuu-san didn’t seem too stoked about the idea of the pendant. )

( I wonder why? )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) The てやる or ‘te-yaru’ construction implies that he is doing something for the sake of someone else.

(2) Literally he says ‘I’d even be willing to accept help from a cat’. This idiom is used when someone is so busy, they will accept any help, even from someone who might not be the best.

← RETURN TO CHAPTER 2

→ PROCEED WITH MAIN STORY [CHAPTER 4]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #1 [W/ SUBARU]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #2 [W/ RUKI]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #3 [W/ KOU]

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #shuu sakamaki #lunatic parade #diabolik lovers translation #lpshuuchapter3

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theodora3022 · 4 years ago

Text

Bloody Rose(Sebastian Michaelis x Vampire F!reader)

Request: Sabastian with a female vampire s/o? Can be yandere or not! You choose.

Notes: I made this in headcanons form and I’m typing on mobile during witching hours, so bear with me dear anon-

I decided to go with fluff since I am in a soft mood today~~

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of blood

To others, you were a tailor owning a small haute couture shop, a spinster who make her living by making outfits. But they won’t know you been doing this since the Georgian times.

You move from county to county, around England every decade or so, to avoid suspension. Luckily no vampire hunters has ever been on your tail: you consider yourself as a good subject to the crown despite being a blood drinker. You only consume animal blood, which made you a harmless vegetarian. Being a forever maiden is not unpleasant by any means, apart from being banished from sunlight. You miss being able to run around in the sun freely. When you do go out during a sunny day you cover yourself in fabric as much as possible, resulting you with overly pale skin.

Contrary to common belief, you slept until the afternoon, opening up the store even during the day. You had forced yourself to change your biological routine to fit in the human society. Although your bed resembles a traditional coffin in shape, it is never an actual one. The mirrors in your shop were not backed by silver, so you can still see your reflections.

You happened to be at late Victorian London when a mysterious murderer decides to drain the blood of thier victims like a vampire would, how unfortunate.

You were one of the suspects, so Sabastian and his lord were obligated to pay you a visit. Although they did not put you as priority to begin with: you never done things like this.

You welcomed them to your store with a polite smile and warm greetings, as any good saleswoman would.

Ever since transforming, you had not drank a drop of human blood. However, you can still smell the scent of their blood even through skin. It feels like...a natural perfume to you, to describe it at best. Some are sweeter then others, like tempting sweet delights, and you had to make sure you are well fed before going near them.

That little lord’s blood is sweet and tempting. The butler, however, his blood just...is that even blood? You thought to yourself. It reminds you of the mighnight, danger lurking underneath the peaceful surface.This man is no ordinary human, you can sense that much. You had never delt with a demon before, therefor your knowledge is rather limited, only from books and theaters.

Vampires are demons are cut from the same cloth, in a way right? Both can only venture in the shadows for eternity, trying to get by without being slain by those self righteous dastards. Sebastian had met some of your kind over the centuries, albiet none of them are as lovely as you are. You still act like a young human woman, if not for your overly pale skin you would be considered as normal. He wonders what made you this way, as all vampires, save a selected few, are humans before something happened. You seem like a kind lady, not one of those blood-hungry lowlifes he had seen before.

You showed Ciel your collection, took his measurements when he demanded, never flinching away from the young lord’s cold attitude. When you went into the inner chamber to retrive more material choice, Ciel decided you are most likely not the murderer they are looking for, and Sebastian agrees. There is not a single scent of human blood on you or anywhere in sight, as demons can smell such things even one uses the finest soap to cover the traces. Even though you are a vampire, if you are harmless to others Ciel is not intersted in fighting you(he has a demon for butler, so?).

“But she is a fine tailor, right milord? Maybe you can just make this a normal shopping trip.” What an unsual person you are, thought Sebastian. He might just take a little more time to observe you. It has been forever since he met another immortal being that does not irritates him.

“Very well. This would not be a complete waste of time then. I need a new suit for the social season anyway.” The young man tsked.

When they asks you to deliver the order yourself, you were hesitant about going outside. Your ususal customers send their servents to collect their orders, as you insisted so. You know what sunburns can do to you, but they offered you a down payment you cannot refuse. It is a risk you are willing to take. Even vampires needs gold to survive, if you do not wish to massacre humans for food.

The moment you stepped onto the estate, covered in a long hooded cloak and gloves, you can sense great calamity has occured in this location rather recently. But that is none of your concerns, the customer’s private life is nothing to pry about.

The servents...they are an odd flock, to say the least. They might seem clumsy or even impotent, but you know that butler knows better then to hire three imbeciles.

After you made your delivery, Sebastian insists on you staying for the afternoon tea. You wanted to decline, since normal food has been tasting like wet paper ever since that awful day, but you find it hard to say keep saying no to such a comely man. He is the most goregous male you ever seen, and you say that as an immortal. The term “devilishly handsome” is like a tailor made suit for him.

To your surprise, you can faintly taste the refreshement’s fruity flavours. When you were human yourself you have always loved food, missing it much when all you can taste is blood. So you helped yourself to quite a few tarts and biscuits, not knowing the demon had added special ingredients just for your vampire taste buds. You were so focused on your plate that you missed Sebastian’s calculating smile.

That esclated rather quickly, soon you found yourself promising to tailor more clothes for Earl Phantomhive, therefore being on their premise more.

Sebastian would always treat you to a plate of mouth-watering refreshments before you depart. Soon you find yourself answering his somewhat intrusive questions, as it is only fair to give him some compensation for those delicious treats.

The questions are surfaces ones at first. What is your favorite color or your preferred weather. Then to more personal territory, such as the reason behind your spinsterhood or what in a man that attracts you the most. You would blush madly, a feeling you have not felt in years fills your empty soul, and tell him your little answers.

How endearing. Compare to werewolves who behaves like canines, vampire leans closer to the feline side. You reminds Sebastian greatly of the black cat he encountered last spring. Your nonchalant and cheerful attitude are identical to the lovely creature. Oh and how he loves petting her soft fur. He wonders how your hair would feel under his hands. He initially might just be curious of how an odd vampire you are, but now the demon had found you to be quite an entertaining presence.

It has been so long since you had any friends, so you opened up to him quickly, disregarding the risks. You even revealed your identity to the man in black after he swears on his heart to not tell a soul.

“My entire family was slaughtered by venegeful vampires. My father used to work as a vampire hunter for the mad King, therefore he made enemies of many. Ironically I survived, only to found out I turned into this. A creature who can only hide in the shadows forever. I swore I would never be like those blood suckers, I would never kill someone just to saitate my blood lust. Thank you Sabastian, for all those delicious cakes. They made me feel human agian once more. Also thank you for listening to my rambles, it has been so many years I confided in someone.” So you where a noble lady once. That is where your fine but antiquated manners originates from.

What a calamity you had suffered, yet you remain strong and lighthearted nonetheless. Moving from place to place, afraid to be burnt for your youthful appearance.You deserve to be cherished as the treasure you cleary are. No more hiding and running, not if he can help it.

You gladly accepted Lord Phantomhive’s offer to serve as the household’s tailor, the pay is generous and working for one person greatly reduce the risk of being discovered. Plus you get to spend more time with your new friend Sebastian! It is an offer you cannot turn down.

Sebastain is in a contract right now, but Ciel could only live so long. Prior to meeting you, he never thought about the future after his contract is completed. He imagined the two of you traveling across the European contient as friends, or something more, for the rest of your infinate lives. He has always been alone whenever he was not in a contract with humans, but the idea of being with someone forever is rather appealling to the demon.

Even though he does not let his emotions discract him from his duties, you can still feel how he smiles whenever you enter the room. You would curl up your lips jovially in return, sometimes even teases him for having a charming smile.

For now, Sebastian would be your good friend, always lend an ear to you for anything, or offer his shoudler should you need it, as long it does not get in the way of his duties to his liege. But who knows what would happen after the contract is completed? The world is yours to explore, with infinate amount of time, with him by your side.

#black butler #black butler fluff #sebastian michaelis #sebastian michealis x reader #black butler imagines

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kaeyas-beloved · 4 years ago

Note

So I just found your platonic teenage MC and Leonardo post and I absolutely adore it OMG 🥺, the way you wrote Leonardo as a father figure was so great! Could I maybe request some general headcanons for this adoptive father daughter duo?

First of all Anon thank you so much for telling me that, it means a lot to me to know you liked that scenario <3

Secondly, you absolutely may request general headcanons! I hope you like them as much as the other platonic piece! If there was anything specific you wanted that I didn’t mention you can always come back and ask again! (Also I’m really sorry if these aren’t what you were expecting or they’re not any good all together T_T )

PS, I also made these general enough that you could see the MC be either from the 19th century or the 21st while still keeping the main focus of what a father/daughter relationship with Leo is like (you’ll know what I mean once you read them - probably)

Something you need to know before reading - the scenario Anon mentioned has it where the MC is building a model w/ Leo so some points in this will be under the idea that she likes to build things too.

Under the cut cause it’s a little long!

~~~

General Adoptive Daughter!MC & Leonardo Relationship HCs

First and foremost, even if you’re adopted/staying for just a single month he will treat you like you’re his own flesh and blood. In his eyes you’re family no matter what (sorry I don’t make the rules)

But moving on-

He is such a relaxed dad

Sometimes you think he’s a little too relaxed...

Never gets mad at you either, there’s very few things that gets this man upset.

Like if you were to accidentally break something of his he’d just pat your head/shoulder and tell you that these things happen before going on his merry way

He’ll muss up your hair/pat your head a lot in general - it’s his way of showing affection

Supports whatever route in life you take, if it makes you happy go for it. Your life is so short, you should spend it doing what you love.

Like in the scenario mentioned at the beginning, Leonardo would definitely call you topolina or even passerotta - rarely ever calling you by name unless the situation called for a more serious note.

Leo teases you a lot too about anything he can. Your eyes linger on a particularly cute boy/girl/person? He’ll chuckle and lean down so only you’d be able to hear him and say something along the lines of “something catch your eye, topolina?”

Teaches you all he knows on any topic if you show even the slightest interest in it (or asks the other residents if he’s not that knowledgeable on it/feels they could teach it better than him)

Takes you out into town whenever he goes for work, both as a learning and bonding experience - dropping tips for building/fixing things that the books don’t tell you.

(Even if you’re not aspiring to be an architect/something along those lines he’ll still do the above point as sort of a life skill if you’re on your own and need to repair something.)

Also as another bonding activity he’d randomly show up at your door and be like “you wanna build a castle model???”

Moderately and spontaneously spoils you.

You’ll never know when something will catch his eye in a store that he thinks you might like, leading him to buy it for you.

On more than one occasion have you received something from him only to be left confused because he hands it to you so nonchalantly

You have to deal with him falling asleep all the time, especially while you guys are working on a model cause he likes to sit back and let you work on your own.

One time he fell asleep and ended up leaning onto you, crushing you under him. You were only able to get out and breath once again when Comte walked by and saw you in need.

Not the best at comforting but not the worst either. Somethings he knows exactly what to say (which is most of the time) and then there are the rare times he’s lost.

He may be the master of all trades but there are still going to be things that aren’t his forte!

By no means though will he not lend an ear and listen to any troubles you have - cause he will listen and give advice where he can

For some reason I feel like if he ever saw you roaming the mansion’s halls looking upset he’d sweep you up into his arms and hang you upside down as a way to try and make you laugh

I also think Leo is the kind of parent to watch from afar at times while still being close to you (if that makes sense).

He wants you to be able to rely on him while still not being smothered or feel like you have no freedom with him - something I think he felt a little with his own family.

Depending on if you’re from the 21st century or not but Leonardo would be sad when he’d have to say goodbye. Yes he could see you again but it’d be the pain of having to live another 200 years before he could.

Similarly if you’re from the 19th century he’d feel a twinge of sadness at seeing you grow up. It reminds him that you’re human and you could be taken away from him at any point.

Of course he’d protect you to the best of his ability, anything to keep you safe.

Leo wants you to live out your human life as long as possible, to experience the wonders of being alive. Something he doesn’t have and something he doesn’t want you to take for granted.

In somewhat relation to the above

REFUSES (and I can’t emphasize this enough) to turn you into a vampire

Would also kick Comte’s ass if he even suggested it to you

But on a more lighter note!

If you were to ever bring home a s/o he’d ask them a couple questions threaten them that if they hurt you they’re dead before teasing you about it

“Isn’t that the one you stared at on the street?”

“daaaAAD!!!” *combusts*

Also by default you’re close with Comte too (who also views you as a daughter)

Overall a very wholesome and laid back relationship is shared between you two :)

~~~

Again I’m really sorry if these aren’t that good - I’m still working on how to write headcanons since I usually write scenarios T_T

As of me posting this, requests are open [check my bio though to be sure]! Don’t forget to check the rules too for the fandoms/topics I write for (which are linked in my masterlist)!

Masterlist

#ikemen vampire #ikemen vampire leonardo #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp leonardo x reader #ikevam leonardo #ikevam x reader #ikevamp #ikevam fanfic #cybird ikemen #ikemen vampire leo #ikevamp leo #leonardo x reader #platonic x reader

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sevendeadlyvices · 3 years ago

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Poker Buddies AU: Max and Memories Notes

Something I compiled for @i-cant-thinkof-anything-new Poker Buddies AU they have going. Now I used the Poker Night wiki to get this and I thought this would be helpful for any Sam and Max or Poker Night at the Inventory Fans in general. That and I have my own Poker Night At The Inventory AU and headcannons that I need to work on too. The first information is generally Max’s poker strategy in Poker Night At The Inventory:

When it comes to reading the opponent's strategies, Max's will prove to be a big problem. Due to his lack of knowledge on the subject, his poker strategy seems non-existent. His choice of whether to call, raise, or fold tends to come out of nowhere. Sometimes, Max will or will not have a good hand, so he will be very hard to read. His strategies are completely random; he might bluff, be cautious, or be aggressive. Sometimes he will just keep on betting or keep on folding.

I would call Max an unpredictable poker player at times. There’s this tell he has that if his left hand quivers, he’s bluffing, but other than that, you’re on your own with him.

Next is his relationships with the characters of both Poker Nights:

Heavy: Max seems to have a good strong friendship with the Heavy, asking him about how his career is going and what kind of weapon he could recommend.

Strong Bad: Mostly casual, having the odd talk with Strong Bad when Max is compelled to tell some sort of story.

Tycho: His relationship with Tycho seems to be, again, a casual friendship. They share many of the same interests, although from time to time Max will be slightly put off by Tycho's odd behavior.

The Player: Max often thinks The Player plays too conservatively, especially when not calling a huge bet of Max's.

Sam: Max very much loves the big guy. Max is Sam's long-time partner, best friend, husband, and sidekick.

Brock Samson: Brock finds Max annoying like Claptrap, but also finds it much easier to ignore him, even when Max is physically attacking him. He also has some level of respect for the lagomorph for everything he and Sam overcame as members of the Freelance Police.

Claptrap: Much like Sam, Claptrap is a fan of Max for their games and comics. He seems closer to Max than Sam due to the fact that Max isn't as annoyed by him as Sam is. Max's love for violence makes the robot think he would fit in very well on Pandora. If Claptrap is knocked out before Sam, he will often sit next to Max for a while. Also, during a Showdown, Max will stand right next to Claptrap, wondering what the next card will be.

Ash Williams: Ash has considerable respect for Max and Sam's career and is otherwise "okay" with the lagomorph. However, Ash also displays a few moments of apprehension and even downright concern when Max' insanity acts up, usually in his theme eliminations.

GLaDOS: Max doesn't seem to mind the murderous AI as much as the other characters and occasionally joins in when she insults or annoys the other characters (primarily Sam).

This is from the wiki, so take this with a grain of salt.

And finally, with spoilers in the cut:

The Memories I would focus on for the Epic Texas Hold Em Matches! Note that it’s not all the conversations from both games, but here’s the ones I found so far that might be interesting to incorporate for the AU. I’ll bold the ones that would seem more angsty for the AU:

Max: I don't know a lot about card games, truth be told. But, I take it you're a little bit of a beginner, yes? Strong Bad: Are you talking to (pronounces it as moy) moi? Max: You betcha. You're as green as the bologna in Sam's mini-fridge. Strong Bad: (angrily) Shut up, Stitch. Max: (cheerily) It's OK. It just means you have to adopt a wanton strategy of wild deception. Strong Bad: Hmm... Not the woist idea I ever hoid. Max: (furrows brow) Get into their heads.

Max: You know what I love? Tycho: What's that? Max: Destroying wave after wave of the undead. Tycho: WORD UP! How do you roll? Max: With my trusty side arm of course. Tycho: I'm more of an auto-shotgun guy. Max: Oooh! Heavy: This is good weapon no? Max: Sam and I had to resign ourselves to pistols when our cleaning bill started going through the roof. Tycho: Yeah, its like ichor? Oxyclean ain't cuttin' it. Max: This pelt is dry clean only.

Tycho: Max, how'd you learn to play cards? Max: Funny you should ask! This one time, Sam and I were busting up a crime syndicate down in Atlantic City. A road job. Tycho: Indeed. Max: Yeah! So we're tailing this low level mafia bum for an hour and he pulls up outside a casino and before he can go in Sam says, "Well little buddy, we better nab this guy quicker than a Pittsburgh driver taking a left on a green in rush hour." I couldn't have agreed more. So I grab a tire iron out of the back seat, right, hop out of the Desoto, and pummel this guy like a piñata. Tycho: Yow! Max: Blindfold and all! Tycho: ...That doesn't really answer my question. Max: You asked me a question?

Tycho: Hey Max, how do you like being a freelance police officer? Max: It's the best. Tycho: I bet it is. Max: Oh, but that's not all I do. I'm also available for babysitting, bat mitzvahs and general shakedowns. You know anybody who needs work? Tycho: See, this why I think we get along. You're a Renaissance man. Max: You need anybody roughed up? Tycho: There's a bird at the pet store that's been giving me a little beak, yeah. Max: Oh ho, putting a wise acre in his place is my specialty!

Heavy: I will make hat from you, little bunny. Max: How 'bout I just sit on your head and shoot people? Heavy: (thinks about this) ...This is good idea.

Heavy: Tiny Heavy, who is your favorite to kill in war? Strong Bad: Hmm, in WAR? Probably those Green Helmets. You know, the guys who don't have any cool weapons or gimmicks, and come in a discount three-pack. Heavy: To kill spy is glorious thing! How about you, Max? You are killing type. Max: My favorite enemy? {gasps} That's like asking me to choose between my children! Heavy: {laughs heartily} You crack me up, little bunny!

Heavy: You look very familiar, bunny. Max: How closely do you follow the Manhattan crime blotter? Wait, you didn't go the Spiro Agnew School of the Arts, did you? Tycho: You attended? Didn't take you for the book learnin' type. Max: No, but Sam and I pinched their gym teacher in a black market jock strap ring in the 80's. I'd be surprised if any student didn't remember a dog choking out a large man with a unibrow.

Strong Bad: I don't trust you one bit, ra-bbit. Max: It's ok, I don't trust myself. Strong Bad: How do we know that you don't have a never ending stack of aces wherever you put your gun? Max: Well, you don't, but you're welcome to look!

Strong Bad: So... Max. You're like one of those (pronounces as poke mons) poke-mons, right? Max: (narrows eyes) My genus and phylum is a mystery to all mankind. Strong Bad: Because I'd love to see some prepubescent pointy-haired kid run in here and stick you inside of a baseball (laughs). (in a high pitched voice, with a smile) That would be hilarious. Max: Are you talking about the red-capped kidnapper who terrorized the fauna on the Upper West Side for months? Strong Bad: Maybe. Max: Because Sam, Flint, and I caught him trying to stuff a chimpanzee into his knapsack, and made him cry for his mommy.

Strong Bad: I wonder if this dump is haunted? Max: (cheerily) Ooh, I hope so. There's something about being able to terrorize a spectral being without it up and dying on you that (furrows eyebrows) I just love. Heavy: (sadly, lowers his head) I do not like ghost. Max: It's OK Mr. Weapons. I've got extensive experience with zombies and vampires. (points toward himself) I can handle a little ghost. Heavy: (with large eyes) You will take care of ghost for me? Max: (cheerily) You betcha. Heavy: (cheerily, nods his head) I like you, tiny rabbit.

(Brock) GLaDOS: Brock Samson is eliminated. Max: GERONIMO! (lands on Brock's head and starts to gnaw on it, to no effect) Die, die, die! Brock: (gets up) I'll be at the bar.

(Claptrap) GLaDOS: Claptrap is eliminated due to lack of funds. Max: Wet willy, wet willy! (sticks a finger in his mouth and inserts it into a hole in Claptrap's side) Claptrap: Hey! That's not my ear, it's my... (both are electrified and fall from chair)

(Ash) GLaDOS: Ashley Williams is eliminated. Ash gets up and reaches for his chainsaw, only to realize it's not there. Max is holding it, standing a foot or so behind him. Max: (grinning maliciously) Looking for something? (looks at Sam normally) Hey, check it out, Sam! I'm a tree surgeon! Sam: (whispering to Ash) He's not really a tree surgeon...! Ash looks worried. Max: (revs up chainsaw) Open wide and say "ah!" (chases Ash away)

#Sam and Max #Sam and Max AU #Poker Buddies AU #Poker Night At The Inventory #Poker Night 2 #Max #tycho brahe #strong bad #Heavy #Ash Williams #Brock Samson #Claptrap #just wanted to share some interesting things that would make your AU better #now I'm obsessed #but Jessica you have your own Poker AU to worry about #but I like this one a lot #I hope this is okay

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the-rockstar-lestat · 4 years ago

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Well happy Christmas mes amis, to those who celebrate!

I'd like to tell you a little story, in lieu of a Christmas present.

It must have been in the early 1800s, because Claudia was a child still. A real child, who believed in real childish things. Like Santa Claus, or as we called him Pere Noël.

And Louis and I were terribly good each Christmas, at filling Claudia's little shoes with candy and small toys--though I think myself an early adapter of the Christmas Present, as Claudia couldn't eat candy (though she liked the look and the idea of it) and very few toys and things Claudia actually liked fit in her shoes, so the presents got larger and larger. Our spoiled little miss never minded. So each year we would go to midnight mass--a favorite tradition of Claudia's, as it naturally occured at night, and she was able to see all the other children that were so often asleep so early into her waking hours--and participate in a beloved New Orleans tradition, revillion, the large meal after midnight mass, although ours didn't contain gumbo and oysters... It was terribly easy hunting when everyone was awake, and many people slightly drunk. We did try to stick to the poor and homeless, "to send them home to Jesus for Christmas," said Louis to Claudia, but Claudia had her own sense of humor, and took delight in thinking some little shoes would be unclaimed Christmas morning--you see what an evil little thing I raised!

Anyway, after our evening meal, Claudia and Louis and I returned home and Claudia eagerly ancipated the sunrise for once, as it would bring with it Christmas! Now, she knew Pere Noël was flying through the world filling all the good children's shoes while they slept. And when she was very young we had reassured her he knew to come to her house last, just before the sun rose, which is why she must be safely tucked into her coffin before sunrise to await him--and so her regular Peres could make ready the house! But one Christmas, when she was still quite little, Claudia was working on a sampler by candlelight, when suddenly she asked:

"Is Pere Noël a vampire?"

(Louis and I remember this a touch differently. I recall her asking. He remembers her simply informing us "Pere Noël is vampire, isn't he?")

Louis spluttered. I laughed.

"What makes you say that?" Asked Louis.

"Because," announced Claudia. "He only comes out at night, as we do. He knows if you're good or naughty and if you believe in him, so he can read your thoughts like we do. He can see all the good children in New Orleans in one night, so he must move very, very fast, like we can. He doesn't want any food for his long journey (this was before the tradition of leaving milk and cookies for Santa Claus) only hay for his donkey, so he must not eat, or he eats something else. And he has been coming to everyone's house and everyone's Papa's house and everyone's Papa's Papa's house , as even the old men talk of Pere Noël , and he is always an old man, so he must never age or die, as we do."

Louis and I sat there in shock. What to do, what to say to this? Do we tell her no, Pere Noël is not a vampire , and try to preserve what little humanity and innocence she has, and let her go on believing in this manifestation of goodness and kindness like every other child? Pere Noël was one of the few human things Claudia had, should we corrupt him too? On the other hand, might telling her Pere Noël was a vampire comfort her in some way, make her feel less alone, make her feel there was some value and goodness to her nature , if Pere Noël was so beloved? Or--note to self , Lestat--would that make her want to find him, or to ask too many questions of others of Her Kind, which she can never, never meet, as you've promised yourself to keep those monsters away from your little family. Better to be alone than with THEM.

Or do we, like so many parents, decide it's time to ruin the sweet dream of childhood and tell her ,no Pere Noël is not a vampire, indeed he's not real. Even I am not that heartless.

Fortunately Louis made this decision for me, as all these options, the pros and cons of each, sprung through my head and said:

"Well, I have never seen Pere Noël, as I was always a good boy tucked in my bed when he came to give me presents, and if I were to spy on him now to try to find out for you, I am afraid he would get angry and not leave any presents for you!" No presents! The horror!

"So you do not know if he is one of us?" Claudia asked.

"Indeed he could be, chèrie, but that is not something good girls try to find out. Perhaps we shall keep our secrets and let Pere Noël keep his."

Claudia seemed to accept with this, and returned to her sampler, as Louis and I breathed a sigh of relief. Before long we saw the first streaks of red in the sky, and Claudia was picked up, washed her hands and face, put on her lace trimmed nightdress, said her prayers (by Louis' insistence) and was tucked into her coffin, while Louis and I rushed to get her presents ready before the sun claimed us as well.

"Wait!" I said, just as we were about to retire , a job well done, "get me some paper, Louis!" He did so, and I wrote in my own hesitant handwriting which Claudia had never seen (remember, writing and indeed reading in my own language was always a struggle for me , a fact I took care to conceal from my family, as I had no well trained bourgeois hand like Louis did)--

"My dear child Claudia! What a clever girl you are finding me out! But you must tell no one, let this be our little secret!

--Pere Noël"

And I pinned said note into the petticoat of the dress on the doll I had gotten her, where she was sure to find it--though perhaps not until later.

"What are you doing?" Asked Louis.

"Letting her have a little fun. If she finds this she'll think she's clever for having found it all out, but we can , of course, deny all knowledge of anything of the sort. She and she alone will know Pere Noël's true nature! A little secret of her own. What a special girl she'll think she is!"

Louis smiled that shy, secret smile of his he reserved only for when I had been truly Good. The way I saw it, it was the best of all worlds. So we pinned the note into the doll's dress and set her up by Claudia's slippers, now filled with tiny things and candies in the prettiest wrappers I could find. Louis smiled at me again. He always liked Christmas.

We went off to bed, and the next morning, evening, what have you, Claudia awoke to her surprises and, like every parent has since the creation of Pere Noël, we watched her discover her gifts with pride, silently congratulating ourselves on a job well done.

And as luck would have it later that evening I noticed Claudia's face as she felt a bit of something pinned somewhere to her new doll and drew it out, looking it over with more expression than I frequently saw on her still, calm, little face.

"Why Claudia, whatever is the matter?" I asked her, nudging Louis, "Did you find a bit of loose stuffing in your new doll?"

She seemed surprised and crumpled the note to her chest.

"No, Papa." She said (she sometimes called us both Papa in those days. I missed that when she stopped.) "It is nothing."

"Very good, then. I would hope Pere Noël did not bring you a broken doll!"

"No,no, she's wonderful!"

And I saw Claudia fold up the little note and store it away in her reticule and counted myself victorious.

Although the following Christmas I received a LOOK from Louis, as he had caught Claudia trying to lure a street urchin to dinner with the ultimate aim of tying him to mantle for Pere Noël to discover "In case he was hungry as he surely can't hunt tonight!"

(We ate the poor lad ourselves. It made her so happy to see his body gone in the morning--as Pere Noël would never be sloppy about his kill, Claudia, and got rid of it nicely-- much as the hay for his donkey was. Waste not, want not. )

I believe Claudia believed Pere Noël was a vampire until she stopped believing in him entirely. I never stopped giving her presents for Christmas, or course, insisting and swearing at least one of them I had not bought, and MUST be from him, Louis being my eager coconspirator. She did love Christmas so.

#the vampire claudia #claudia de lioncourt #murder daughter #interview with the vampire #vampire chronicles #the vampire lestat #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac

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mishavacado · 4 years ago

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SPN has so much spinoff potential and so much canon to work with, it's such a waste that none of it's getting used. This post is just all of my spinoff ideas, I'll apologize in advance because it is VERY long.

Wayward Sisters, obviously. There are so many possible storylines to work with, so many stories to tell. I'd really love to see some Charlie, Eileen, or Krissy Chambers cameos. I think that Charlie and Claire would get along really well (just read this post). Rowena is another character that I think could easily be worked into the canon. She could teach the girls all kinds of magic and be the fun wine aunt that spoils the girls on their birthdays. I don't think that Claire would like her very much, but, Rowena and Alex would probably get along just fine. How much I need this in my life: 1000000000000000000000000/10 when I heard that this idea had been tossed out I was so angry. Why doesn't this exist?

Men of Letters prequel that's mostly set in the bunker. This show could really expand on the canon lore and give us some more background on the Men of Letters, as well as any other similar/rival organizations that were around before the main show's time. The Men of Letters have so much story potential for a spin-off; corrupt leadership, new monsters, other organizations, expanding the MoL to outside the U.S. Episodes could be in a monster-of-the-week (MOTW) format, starting and ending with the Man of Letters the case is assigned to making notes in his journal or case file or talking about the case, as well as the overall season arcs. Episodes would be titled by their case number, i.e S1 E1 Case No. 1925-4, etc How much I need this in my life: 1000000/10, the supernatural/historical drama combo would be absolutely stunning.

A series focusing on all of the alternate timelines and universes, both the ones mentioned in the main show and ones just randomly created for an episode. There are infinite possibilities. Each episode would be in a MOTW format, but with different versions of Sam and Dean. The HunterCorp universe, Jared and Jensen from the French Mistake, a universe where their names are switched, a universe where Dean went to college and was the one with the demon blood powers, a universe where they drive a Mustang instead of the Impala, a universe where Sam isn't scared of clowns. I could go on, but I'm going to stop myself here. How much I need this in my life: 9/10 I think it would be pretty funny, but it's not my best idea.

A Bobby and Rufus spin-off where they talk about cases they worked on together or with other hunters, but the stories are told similarly to Tall Tales. It's the same story but told from different points of view depending on who's talking. I wish we'd gotten to see more of Bobby and Rufus because I think those two are hilarious and really think that this could be funny, even if it was just a web series with twenty-minute episodes. How much I need this in my life: 10/10, I love Bobby and Rufus and I think that they have a lot of interesting hunting stories to tell.

GHOSTFACERS GHOSTFACERS GHOSTFACERS. How much I need this in my life: 100000000000000000000000/10, I love the Ghostfacers. That's my whole idea.

A Jack-centric show that's almost a political drama. Jack is the ruler of heaven and is constantly being manipulated by angels, demons, and Death herself. He just wants to make an afterlife paradise, but power-hungry angels won't leave him alone. Remember that Jack is very young and trusting by nature, so there is a lot of potential for disaster if he gets goaded into doing something, like making new universes or ending existing ones. Cas is a main character and he does his best to protect Jack, but he has to be careful to not seem overprotective/like another manipulator or Jack won't trust him either. I have no idea if I'm making any sense, but shoutout to me if I am. For some reason, I've always thought that heaven would be an interesting setting for a spin-off, and those angels are pretty similar to power-hungry politicians. How much I need this in my life: 800/10, I would totally watch this.

A very short series that just destroys the canon finale. Twelve episodes, detailing the storylines that were ignored or destroyed by Carry On. E1: Rescuing Cas from the Empty and he and Dean have a long talk about their ~feelings~. They kiss, and for the first time, Dean’s mind is free of doubt about whether or not anyone could ever love all of him. E2: Eileen returns. She says nothing when she sees Dean and Cas holding hands, just raises her eyebrow and smiles knowingly. Some excellent movie night content. E3: 1 year later. Sam and Eileen’s wedding. Dean and Cas aren’t legally married, but their matching gold rings are very prominently shown. It isn’t mentioned. The wedding is almost canceled because of the rain, but with a wave of Jack’s hand the clouds disappear and the birds start to sing. E4: Sam and Eileen have moved out of the Bunker. Cas finally convinces Dean to downsize, so they find a little house in Lawrence and settle down. Cas works as a special ed teacher. Dean works as a mechanic. Miracle loves the backyard but makes sure to stay away from the beehives in the back corner. E5: Sam and Eileen’s twins, Mary and Maura, are born. Dean and Cas love their nieces, and Jack loves them too. He doesn’t know what to call himself, so they settle on Uncle and call it good. E6: Deaths. They all die old. Cas’s vessel has aged, but he can’t die, so when Dean finally passes away in his sleep, Cas scatters his ashes in the woods and disappears, ascending to heaven, to spend eternity with Dean. The closing scene is a dark screen, with the whoosh of wings and a soft “Hello, Dean.” OK. That was a long one. My apologies. How much I need this in my life: 100000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000/10. I would reach nerdvana thirty seconds into episode one.

Another spinoff of that idea is just...Dean and Cas living a normal life. Short episodes. Cas goes to the grocery store. Dean drags Cas to a horror movie fan convention. Cas meets a roomba. How much I need this in my life: I can’t type enough zeroes to express it.

Campbell prequel that focuses on Mary and her childhood. Mary being raised as a hunter but not being allowed on hunts. Mary rushing home to finish her chemistry homework so she can help her dad track a nest of vampires moving east. Mary missing her prom to help Samuel on a hunt. Mary trying to keep her real life secret from John, a man she knows loves the parts of her he knows about. Mary always being an outsider, the kindest and most beautiful girl in her class, but so slow to trust and quick to speak that everyone is afraid to be her friend. Mary is a character that has the potential a lot more development, for twelve seasons she’s the burning martyr in every Winchester’s imagined paradise. She deserves more. How much I need this in my life: 11/10, Mary isn’t my favorite character but I would die for her.

Gabriel spin-off. That’s it, that’s the idea. How much I need this in my life: 10000000/10, Gabriel is a character that we don’t know a lot about so there are so many possible directions for a story about him to go.

Show set in the SPN universe that doesn’t really interact with the main show’s canon. It’s about two cops in the 30s that become hunters by accident. After investigating the apparent suicide of a hunter in their small town, they become enthralled by her library, filled with books about ghosts and vampires. They pour over her journals on their own time, fascinated by what they’re reading. They get to know the hunter through her writings, her accounts of her hunts and travels. Eventually, a nest of vampires settles in the town and the two put their newfound knowledge to the test. This show would just be based on canon lore, there wouldn’t be any mention of the Winchesters or other main characters, although a few MoL team-ups is definitely a possibility. The two become quite a team, tracking werewolf backs on bulletin boards in their basements and hoarding rock salt. How much I need this in my life: 89/10, I think this could be really interesting and I am a sucker for historical hunters.

Speaking of historical hunters-Samuel Colt prequel. Cowboys, vampires, cowpires. Hunting in the wild west, galloping across the prairie chasing a pack of werewolves. This show could also tell us a lot about how different types of monsters spread across the U.S. Ghosts will go anywhere people go, but what about vampires? Shapeshifters? Ghouls? What was it like to hunt without technology to help with research? The hunters in this series would be the authors of the journals that modern hunters use every day. They’re the ones that tested tracking and trapping methods. Again, no idea if this is making sense, but I think that a supernatural western would be really awesome and would expand/substantiate the canon lore. How much I need this in my life: 1000000000000000000000000000000/10, I love cowboys and I love Supernatural. This is literally the best thing that could ever happen to me.

Crowley. I want to know more about him. A series that tells us all about Fergus Roderick MacLeod, starting with when he was born in Scotland and ending with his death in All Along the Watchtower. We know that Rowena was his mother, that he was a tailor, that he sold his soul for an extra three inches ~down there~, and that he was a terrible dad. I want to know more about his childhood, about the people he made deals with, about how he became king of the crossroads and of Hell. Crowley was a very interesting character that was abused by the story. I want to know more about him. How much I need this in my life: 10000000000000000000000000000000000000/10, I really do love Crowley and I would watch this a thousand times over.

Final idea: MOTW only. No season arc, no overall storyline. New hunters every episode, from all different times, from over the world. All kinds of monsters. One episode in Victorian England, the next in 1990s Los Angeles. Very few recurring characters, if any. The recurring characters would be the Bobby Singers of the world; the lore guys that you call when you need help. Each new character has their own style, own car, own music, own personality. The show could have some a m a z i n g guest stars because they’d only appear in a few episodes. There are so many possibilities for episodes, even if they weren’t full length. How much I need this in my life: 100000/10, I love MOTW episodes and would really like to get to know the characters. It would be very easy to write one-off fanfics for this show, and also very easy to introduce this show’s characters into Supernatural’s canon.

You made it to the end!!!!!!!! That’s all I have for now. Sorry for writing so much, I just can’t stop thinking about SPN and all of the wasted stories.

#al speaks #spn #spn spin-offs #my ideas #i worked hard on this #big brain time #do you like it?

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goldeneyedgirl · 4 years ago

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TwiFicMas20 Christmas Eve: All These Broken Things

... Is it really the end of FicMas if I haven’t posted something from All These Broken Things? I think not. The first sections can be found here and here. This is the fic where Alice travelled with James and doesn’t meet the Cullens until that baseball game.

It's very strange finally being with the family she was always destined to be with, when she thought she had lost them so long ago.

She finds great satisfaction just watching them - Emmett yelling at the sports on the television; Edward perched at the piano, Rosalie working on her cars. She hovers, like a little ghost, folded into corners and against doorframes, vanishing the second they might acknowledge her.

Esme seems to like her company, as she goes about day-to-day things, chatting away to the silent girl with the enormous, sad black eyes, who trails after her like a stray.

She stays away from Carlisle, trying to avoid the moment he declares her to be cast out, too far gone for them to redeem.

And she stays away from Jasper, because it hurts too much. She doesn't tell Jasper what she knows, what they were meant to be to one another. The past is gone, and she has been broken into too many pieces. He watches her like a hawk, and without words, she knows he will be the one to destroy her if she steps out of line. His hands will crack her limbs apart and he will not flinch or feel any loss.

She wonders if she should tell him that if he was the to destroy her, she would not fight it. She would part in his hands like a paper doll, and hold no ill will to him for such an act.

Sometimes, she lets herself remember the old visions, the ones where they were everything to one another. Only when Edward's away, though; she doesn't like him rifling around in her head. No one deserves being forced to see some of those things.

And it hurts, a raw wound in her heart, that she was meant for something else, for happiness and peace and love, instead of what she was dealt in life. One of her greatest unanswered questions is why? What unforgivable thing did she do in her forgotten human past that earned such a punishment?

Then she remembers what she has done at James’ side for so many decades, at the faces and the screams and the suffering, and somehow she lived her crimes and her penance at the same time.

So she continues to pretend she doesn’t notice that Edward keeps Bella away from the house; that Emmett or Jasper hover in the background as she trails after Esme, as she watches Rose. That she can only go hunting when Jasper and Emmett can go along too; the ones strong enough and fast enough to restrain her.

When Edward does bring Bella back to the house at Esme’s insistence, she sits on the opposite side of the room, and listens to the conversation, keeping still and silent.

When Carlisle arrives home from work, she focuses on the magazine or book she has found, pretending to be absorbed by the glossy pictures, still and silent, to not notice as he studies her with patience she isn’t sure is genuine.

When Jasper joins Emmett for something noisy and angry on the television, their gazes occasionally sliding towards her, she is frozen in place, her gaze out the window.

She’s played this game before. Be good and quiet and still. The blow will come, eventually, but at least she can prepare herself for it, brace herself for the inevitable fall. They don’t trust her.

She doesn’t trust her, either.

Six.

They settle into a sort of routine.

She’s allowed to hunt with Esme and Rosalie now, though she’s careful to keep her distance, to trek a little further into the forest, to reassure them. She usually waits until they call her back.

She is always carefully supervised during their hunts, and finally, finally, the cracks James left across her nose and cheeks have finally faded away. They hunt too often for her, and when she forces herself to finish the animal, she vomits everywhere. She says nothing, but she feels safer a little hungry, her eyes black rather than a strange gold-orange.

Edward lets her sit beside him when he plays the piano, tells her about each of the pieces of music. He tries to teach her once, attempts to guide her hands into position, but she panics and jerks away, and he doesn’t offer again.

Emmett is nice to her. He seems to understand not to come up behind her without warning, not to touch. Sometimes she perches on the end of the couch and watches the television with him. She doesn’t stay very long, but he always gives her a big smile when she leaves, as if he’s had a wonderful time.

She doesn’t understand Emmett, but she thinks she could like him.

Rosalie can’t seem to decide whom she dislikes more – her or Bella - and she’s sure that Rose is going to get whiplash from changing her mind about both of them so many times. But Rose addresses her and is reasonably civil, mostly out of some kind of misguided caution that she is some kind of threat, and that is some kind of progress.

She and Bella have few words to say to each other. ‘Sorry I helped someone attempt to torture and exsanguinate you’ isn’t something she can work out how to say out-loud and have it sound genuine. Mostly because the truth is closer to, ‘I’m sorry you found yourself in this situation, but I don’t regret my choices. The consequences for me would have been much, much worse than you can ever comprehend. Your fragile mortality would have spared you of the worst of it. I’d make the same decision one hundred times in a row without a second thought.’

She’s certain that would upset everyone.

Bella seems rather reluctant to spent time in her presence, and she does wonder if that’s because she’s the side of the coin that isn’t beauty-wealth-love. She’s the side of suffering, of pain and of misery, murder and regret. Bella wants perfection, wants the glamour and magic of the Cullens, and none of the honest truth of being a vampire.

But it’s probably the murder attempt.

Then there are things that haven’t changed since she arrived. She’s not allowed to be alone, or to leave the house aside from hunting – even then, she has to be accompanied.

But every single day, James is still gone and she is still here. And there will never be a time when that knowledge is not sweet.

Her wardrobe is limited - a few old t shirts that once belonged to Esme and are too big, her worn jeans and the filthy, stained cardigan that she had when they found her. Her thin knees have long since torn through her pants, and the cardigan's sleeves are frayed and holey, but she is clean and free.

And then she is deemed in control enough to go shopping. Esme approaches her with the idea, with glossy magazines and gentle suggestions. It is an idea that has even intrigues Rosalie enough for her to join them.

They clearly still think she is a risk, though, because it is a family outing, with looks of such boredom and long-suffering on the faces of the male Cullens when it is decided, that she laughs softly behind her hand.

The building they take her to is huge and full of people. It is like a blow to the face, of blood and scent, and she visibly recoils from it at first, unsure and on edge. And they are patient, escorting her in, with encouraging words.

Eventually, though, they show her the clothes and the sight of the racks is enough to distract her from the heady scent. It is overwhelming, the colours and fabrics and styles, and she simply stares, with Emmett laughing at her stunned expression.

Esme is so kind, guiding her gently through the racks, telling her to choose anything she likes. She is careful, though, picking new jeans, a new cardigan, soft and clean and sunshine yellow. Esme helps her pick shoes out - the first pair she's had in decades. Soft brown winter boots, black sneakers, gold and black flats that make her feel like a princess. At her childlike delight with her fancy shoes, Esme buys her a black sundress with ties at the back and bows on the straps, that will bare her arms and triangles of flesh on her back.

Underwear is a strange concept. It's nothing that she has ever bothered with before. She is useless in the wake of so many choices, and let's Esme and Rosalie choose what she needs, dress her like a doll, whilst she amuses herself with how clearly uncomfortable both Jasper and Edward are in such a department.

She almost feels pretty – even desirable - in the plain cotton that make her skinny frame look almost womanly. She’s too embarrassed to even try on the satin and lace sets Rosalie has chosen. They aren’t for girls like her – girls that wear those things are more than she will ever be – prettier, sweeter, bolder. They are too much, and when she refuses, she doesn’t understand the look Rosalie and Esme exchange, Rosalie looking sly and Esme with an expression of warning.

Afterwards, they look for other things. The books hold little interest for her, as do the endless electronics. She doesn’t mean to wander off, but a demonstration by the art supplies store catches her eye, and she stands a little away from the crowd, watching the man draw. It is Esme and Jasper who find her, both looking alarmed, but she pretends she doesn’t see them, her gaze focused on the pencil that so carefully makes its way across the page.

“Alice,” Esme is at her side. “You scared us.” Her smile is bright, but her eyes worried – what would the Cullens do if she attacked in a place like this, with so many eyes? She doesn’t get to ponder that thought much longer, as Jasper’s hand closes over her shoulder and she is guided away.

For the rest of the afternoon, Jasper is her ominous shadow, as she dutifully trails after them.

She doesn't have her own room, but she doesn’t truly need one. Until now, she hasn’t had any possessions to store, and she doesn’t require the privacy a mated couple does. But, she has found she likes the attic. Full of things that need repairs or to be stored, it is a mad tea party of furniture and items.

There’s an old grey chair is missing a leg, and has an ugly stain that not even Esme could draw out that she likes. She folds herself into it, and she feels safe in that little corner, with the narrow window that overlooks the forest and spills in afternoon light. There's an old dresser up there, too, so that's where she arranges her new things, carefully folding and smoothing them into each drawer, precisely and lovingly.

Rosalie brings her some cosmetics and half a glass bottle of perfume – the bottle is shaped like an egg and etched with tiny flowers and curlicues and it is so delicate and beautiful, she is frightened to hold it. Rosalie watches as she sprays the scent into the air, the delighted look at the scent of flowers. She is nervous at Rosalie’s gesture, but grateful. Grateful enough that she allows Rosalie to cut the matted ends of her hair off into a neat, shorter style.

It makes her look more delicate, younger, maybe sweeter, she thinks as she strokes the strands in the mirror. And less like a roving maniac, at least according to the shiny-haired Rosalie, who watches her with satisfaction in her eyes.

She should be offended, but there’s this tiny hope that maybe, just maybe, Rosalie is turning her into something new. Something good and better.

Something like a sister.

It’s Esme’s idea to invite Bella around the evening of her birthday. Just a family gathering, with a few simple gifts. Everyone sort of agrees, and try to work out what to give the sullen girl.

She manages a portrait of Bella and Edward seated together at the piano that Esme gushes over, and has framed.

There have been some hints, from Carlisle and Edward that she will have to attend school eventually. She doesn’t understand that, but is just waiting for them all to graduate. They’ll leave when they’ve graduated and she won’t have to worry about school again.

She arranges peonies on the piano for Bella, upon Esme’s request, and is reminded of her old, fragmented vision of blood and glass. But nothing comes to her; the future is clear and her mind has decided to play tricks on her again.

Or perhaps her mind is the best part of her, the gentle warning she ignored becoming obvious as soon as Bella’s finger slips against the wrapping paper. Jasper’s eyes blacken as soon as Bella’s flesh parts and the blood beads, and suddenly he is lunging. She sees it in an instant, Bella’s crumpled body in his grip and Edward’s howls and the house of the Cullens irreversibly fallen. She sees an endless parade of James’ victims, broken and dead in Bella’s blank eyes.

She sees the horror and the guilt in Jasper’s eyes, sees the vastness of Mexico and the rise of a monster born of regret and impulse.

It is over before he even moves, decision made, and she has to stop this.

The shriek startles them all, coming from her mouth as she darts in front of him.

In another life, the flavour of her desperation and fear would be enough for him to pause, to grasp wildly at his resistance. Instead, he throws her aside, her body crashing through the front windows in a rain of wood and glass, leaving an imprint of her body in the flowerbed outside.

She picks herself up out of the flower bed as Emmett and Rosalie drag Jasper bodily from the house, Esme close behind them. Their eyes are all pitch black; a harmless paper cut did not cause this reaction.

“She cut open her arm,” is Emmett’s grim explanation as Jasper’s struggles slow, his eyes firmly on the door of the house.

“It was an accident,” Esme adds, shame in every line of her stance.

“Alice seemed to know,” Rosalie murmurs, her eyes still on Jasper.

She will never understand Rosalie, why she always needs to assign blame, to identify the victim and the antagonist. She ignores the statement, even as they all swing to look at her, as she examines her shoulder. Jasper didn’t hit her hard enough for cracks to form, but it doesn’t look like it’s properly aligned.

When she does look up again, she can see it in all their eyes – did she let this happen on purpose? Does she hold some ugly vendetta against poor, sweet Bella?

She did help James …

She’s surprised – she thought it would be Edward that came after her, later, to criticise and punish her for the limitations on her faulty gift. He still might – he hasn’t decided properly, too focused on patching up Bella.

But it’s Jasper, wrenching out of Rosalie and Emmett’s grasp, with murder in his eyes and the target on her.

He doesn’t yell, but his words are poisonous, nasty and accusing. She flinches, Esme gasps and even Emmett tries to get him to stop. Some of them, she knows, aren’t meant for her. They are frustration, humiliation and disappointment directed at himself, at his own weakness.

But when she instinctively backs away, and he grabs her wrist, and she lets out a tiny cry of fear; it is Rosalie who comes to her rescue, who snarls and yells and pries his iron grip from her.

“I don’t care how pissed you are, you don’t touch her like that.”

The words seem to echo, and Carlisle, Edward and Bella are watching from the front door.

Her apology is stammered, weak in the sudden silence, her insistence that she didn’t know sounding bewildered and feeble as she darts away, into the forest to pick glass and wood out of her hair and wonder just how many other warnings she’s missed.

#twificmas20 #ficmas20 #ficmas #alice cullen #jasper hale #twilight renaissance #twilight fic #my fic #fic: all these broken things #my fic: all these broken things #i like attention #that's why i do ficmas #honesty is the best policy #is ATBT getting a full tear-down and rewrite for 2021? you betcha

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maryroyale · 4 years ago

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The lovely @curiouselfqueen tagged me on this one. (Thank you! I love these things.)

Uh. I have *feelings* about these? I have no idea why I feel so strongly, but... uh... there you go.

deep violet or blood red? Both? Not at the same time, but I love both. Purple and red are both power colors, but they convey very different things. Old ladies are allowed to wear both because they have the power to pull it off.

sunshine or moonlight? Oof. My default answer is moonlight? Some of the medication I’m on makes my eyes super-sensitive to sunlight. I’m like a damn vampire. Even on cloudy days I need sunglasses. I like seeing the sunlight through the trees when I’m in the woods? It’s pretty and far less painful.

Don’t get me wrong—I do love the moonlight. It’s so beautiful. Winter moonlight and summer moonlight are gorgeous.

80s music or 90s music? How dare you! Don’t speak to me or my 874 music genres ever again. Seriously though, I really love music. I listen to a wide variety of genres and some artists span decades. I love new wave and synthpop, but I also love pop punk and the swing revival. I can’t say one decade is better than the other.

orchids or dahlias? I like to garden, and from a gardening standpoint it’s dahlias all the way. Orchids are a wildly diverse species (over 25,000 types), but the pretty, delicate orchids they sell in stores are not hardy and require a lot of intensive, specific support. They’ll die if you plant them outside where I live. And the garden outside is what makes me happy and brings me joy.

garnet or ruby? These are such different stones. It’s almost like asking if I like chocolate milk or cola. Yes, they are both brown and you can drink them—but they’re really not similar.

Garnet— it’s semi-precious, plentiful, in use since antiquity. A decent go-to stone for jewelry. Like any gemstone, the color is determined by the type of impurities, so garnet can be almost any color. Blue garnets are the rarest. The Mohs scale for garnet depends on those same impurities because some can actually strengthen the hardness of the stone. Generally 6 to 7.5 on the Mohs scale.

I like garnets. Depending on the talent of the jeweler you can get lovely pieces set in silver that won’t cost an arm, a leg, and your soul. It was also my mother’s birthstone, so there’s that.

Ruby— Occasionally confused with spinels, rubies are pieces of corundum that contain the impurity chromium. Corundum that contains the impurities iron, titanium, vanadium, or magnesium are usually blue and referred to as sapphires. (Pink sapphires are actually poor quality rubies that the jewelry industry decided to rebrand to dupe the public. Similar to “chocolate diamonds” and other attempts to sell gems that don’t meet the criteria for their type.)

Corundum is a 9 on the Mohs scale. They highly sought after, have a rich mythos surrounding them, and feature prominently in history.

It seems like a lot of hype to me? They’re sturdy pieces of jewelry, not prone to breakage, but they ought to be for the price you pay. They’re pretty, I’ll grant you that.

moths or butterflies? Well, one is nocturnal and one is diurnal. One is fuzzy and stocky and one is smooth and slender. One is drab and one is brightly colored. I feel like I should picks moths on principle. I love Luna Moths. But butterflies are so very, very pretty. Moths I guess?

Aphrodite or Athena? Okay... so, um, here’s where it’s going to get heated. I apologize. I am *specifically* addressing how Athena and Aphrodite were worshipped/treated in Greek myths. I’m not looking at proto versions from Minoa, Mycenae, or Phoenicia. I’m also not looking at later syncretizations with other cultures e.g. Rome. It is the Greek myths that matter here because those are the myths and attitudes that were directly incorporated into Western culture. We’ve learned a lot about their origins, but *those* myths and attitudes were *not* incorporated into mainstream Western culture.

Athena was either born from Zeus’ head or his thigh. Either she has no mother—Zeus is her only parent—or Zeus swallowed her mother Metis (wisdom, prudence, counsel). This is critically important. In Athenian law, the father was the only legal parent. Mothers had no legal rights to their children at all. Athena is a very real symbol of that.

She is often portrayed as the goddess of wisdom, handicraft, and war. She is a goddess of industry (wine and olive oil). The thing we must ask is what kind of wisdom? What kind of war?

Plato argues this in Cratylus— that Athena’s wisdom could be a number of things from divine knowledge to moral intelligence. I think it’s important that Plato, one of Greece’s most celebrated philosophers, and more important one of the philosophers most embraced by Western Culture praised this choice of “moral intelligence.” [see Plato’s stance on poets in The Republic.]

Athena’s war is not the war of Ares, which is tied to passion and emotion. Ares represents the brutal aspects of war where humanity gives way to cruelty and inhumanity. Athena’s warfare is rational and “just.” Athena makes war on behalf of the city-state. Athena makes war to defend the government.

Athena’s purpose in myth and in poetry and song is to support the government. She is the shield of the king. She upholds and enforces the status quo. Look at her role in the Orestes trilogy. She supplants the Erinyes [the furies originally hunted and tormented ppl who committed matricide]. She decides that Iphigenia’s murder didn’t matter. Clytemnestra (Iphigenia’s mother) didn’t have the right to revenge for her daughter. Orestes was *justified* in murdering his mother because she killed his parent, his father.

Aphrodite also has a motherless birth, but it’s more incidental and spontaneous. Kronos cuts off his father Uranus’ genitals ( like you do ) and tosses them into the sea. Aphrodite is born from the sea foam. There’s a different feel to Aphrodite’s myth. An independence almost. Yes, a male god was involved because it’s a Greek requirement for any child, but it’s in such an incidental way. There was no purpose or intent on Uranus’ part. He had no control over her birth.

Aphrodite is an incredibly independent goddess. She owns her own sexuality and has autonomy over her own body. She is often referred to as the wife of Hephaestus, but in both the Iliad and Hesiod’s Theogony, Hephaestus has wives with different names and Aphrodite is unmarried.

A goddess with this kind of freedom and power in her own right—not tied to a husband or male family member (sorry Artemis!)— is almost unheard of. It makes Aphrodite unique and interesting.

TLDR: I prefer Aphrodite.

grapefruit or pomegranate? Pomegranate. For so many reasons, not the least of which is it’s associations with death and fertility. It’s a lovely contrast and a reminder that death brings forth life e.g. Nurse logs.

angel’s halo or devil’s horns? Oof. This is another rant, guys. Horns as a symbol of divine power are used throughout history and throughout the Indo-European culture. From Egyptian gods like Amun and Isis to Hindu gods like Śiva to Canaanite gods like El and Yahweh, horns have been used to show their power and might. Moses has most famously been depicted with horns due to murky/difficult translations of the Hebrew verb keren/qaran, which can mean BOTH “to send forth beams/rays” and “to be horned”.

There was a concerted effort to associate horns with the devil/evil/bad. Horns are also used to imply fertility/abundance, and that may have played into the perception of horns as devilish. Moses with horns was used as a jumping off point to demonize Jewish people during the Medieval period in a variety of European countries and cultures.

Halos, too, have been used across history and cultures as a symbol of divine power. Sumerian literature talks about a bright emanation that appears around gods and heroes. Chinese and Japanese Buddhist art shows Buddhist saints with halos.

I choose horns because I choose to reclaim that divine power. I reject the idea that either symbol is wholly good or wholly evil. I reject the idea that sexuality by itself is evil/wrong.

sirens or banshees? Both!!! I must admit a partiality to Sirens that is based wholly on my preference for the sea/ocean.

lorde or florence + the machine? Both!!! I love both groups and I’ve listened to their albums so many times. I will admit that I end up listening to Lorde more often when writing.

the birth of venus or the starry night? Huh. I’m going to assume that you mean the painting by Boticelli, even though there’s more than one Birth of Venus.

Honestly, Venus Anadyomene (Venus rising from the sea) is my favorite. It’s her origin myth and anyone could paint it, draw it, write about it, and put their own spin on it. It is malleable because it is myth. It lives on and changes and grows with us. Boticelli’s version is particularly lovely.

Starry Night (1889) belongs to VanGogh. No one can really recreate it without copying his style or his vision. Verschuier’s The Great Comet of 1680 Over Rotterdam could never really be confused with Starry Night. Not even Munch’s Starry Night (1893) could be confused for VanGogh. The two paintings are wildly different in subject matter despite the fact that their subject is the night sky.

I doubt any modern painter would dare. O’Keefe called hers Starlight Night, and I can only guess that others would follow that naming pattern of not quite using the title Starry Night.

Boy, I bet @curiouselfqueen is regretting tagging me now... sorry?

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riarushi · 5 years ago

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7dream lineups.

So, if you haven’t heard the news NCT Dream is going to become a rotational unit with all members from the original 2016 lineup! I thought it would be fun to make some lineups I want to see once they begin promotions, since making units is something I do, ahah. Hope you like it! ~Ness

➵

Genre: Ballad

Set Concept: A peaceful garden of their own. I’m imagining a room like the one for Timeless, all by itself and surrounded by nature. Instead of the solid black background, it’s a dimmed-down version of the pink cloud background in Candle Light.

Styling Concept: Simple and clean. Collared button-ups, minimal jewelry. They're coloured shirts though, and I picture Renjun's to be silky. Hair colours are more natural colours, I see Chenle having blonde hair, Haechan with brown, and Renjun with black/brown.

Random Scene of the MV: The members are standing, except Renjun. Haechan doesn’t have a mic stand and holds it in his hand.

Creation Notes: Immediately after I saw the announcement for rotational Dream, I knew I wanted this lineup. The vocal line is quite strong to be honest, and I’ve always wanted them to get a song where they could show their skills off.

Genre: Soul

Set Concept: Calm, empty streets, lots of neon signs. It’s nighttime and raining, puddles forming on the sidewalk and streets. Some store shops are still on, but the area is absent of people.

Styling Concept: Casual street wear, of different variety. I see Haechan wearing a more hypebeast style, Jaemin wearing something clean and mature, and Mark wearing a simple bomber jacket with his t-shirt and jeans. I think black hair for all of them would be nice, possibly silver for Jaemin just to add variety.

Random Scene of the MV: I picture Mark on the other side of the street, walking. Haechan is sitting at a bus stop avoiding the rain and Jaemin is in an alleyway holding an umbrella.

Creation Notes: Mark said that he really liked Frank Ocean’s “Solo”, so I decided to give it a listen. It was fitting for him, and I thought that Jaemin and Haechan would add a nice stylistic touch to the genre.

Genre: Deep House

Set Concept: A lot of Kpop MVs are shot in a concrete open area (I think it’s just an empty parking lot), so I’m imagining something like that. The lights are all purples and blues, a few yellow lights just attached to the wall. Any props around are likely just crates made of wood.

Styling Concept: Loose button-ups, black jeans, accessorized with belts and simple jewelry. A very typical Kpop look, basically. I’m imagining something like what Jisung wore during the Vampires vs Werewolves episode of Save NCT Dream. Jisung has brown hair, Jeno has dark blue.

Random Scene of the MV: The crates are stacked to create two levels, Jisung sitting on one while Jeno is spread out casually on the upper layer. They just stare at the camera. Wow, very intimidating.

Creation Notes: I actually quite like the house genres, my main inspiration for this lineup was NEVER from Produce 101 Season 2! It’s a very cool and dance-based song. Originally, this lineup was four members.

Genre: Rock

Set Concept: Multiple sets, all date spots. I’m imagining a song that’s more sentimental so I feel like each of the date spots would be with a single member. A cafe, park, amusement park, and an open shopping street. Minimal to no people at each location. It’s spring.

Styling Concept: Light everyday wear. Jeans, I think Renjun and Jaemin would have some sort of outer layer while Jeno and Chenle would just have hoodies. Minimal jewelry, I kind of want to put a chain on Chenle’s pants for fun, haha. For hair, Renjun and Chenle blonde, Jeno brown, Jaemin blue.

Random Scene of the MV: Timelapse of each of the members in their location. In particular, I see Renjun at the cafe, the camera outside. He’s sitting at a window seat, but you can see him getting up to walk around a lot.

Creation Notes: I love how enjoyable rock is for every music listener. The idea sparked because I thought Renjun would be a really nice lead vocal, and I chose members I thought would suit a band with him. I listened to Day6 when writing.

Genre: Future Bass

Set Concept: A futuristic space, sort of like a spaceship I suppose? Lines of lights, clean and glossed walls/floors. The rooms are tinted with blue lighting, either with the lined lighting or as a light in a dark room. There’s also the room from The 7th Sense, except rather than red it’s blue.

Styling Concept: Ambitious streetwear. To be honest, I’m not knowledgeable in fashion and can’t pull off anything that would possibly fit the description in my head. I guess it would be like their SM special stage outfits with a touch of The 7th Sense...? Hair colours are something they’ve never tried before! Jisung with silver, Mark with purple.

Random Scene of the MV: The MV starts with Jisung walking into the red room of The 7th Sense. Mark is already standing in position. When Jisung gets into position, it’s then that the room turns blue.

Creation Notes: I’m sad I didn’t put Jisung in any larger lineups TT The main inspiration for this lineup was The 7th Sense, which is why it’s more continuation of the track! I love the futuristic sound it has, and I thought that futurism, Mark, and Jisung go well together.

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rokutouxei · 4 years ago

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the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

ikemen vampire: temptation through the dark theo van gogh / mc | T | [ ao3 link in bio ]

The challenge seemed pretty simple: to try to befriend the university bookshop’s most sour employee, Theo van Gogh. As a literature major with a boatload of book recommendations on her back, it ought to be a simple task indeed. But as she uncovers what lies between Theo’s pages, the more she finds it harder to become closer to him without having to put the feeling directly into words. What can she learn from Theo about what it means to stay—and how can she teach Theo about what it means to let go? | written for ikevamp big bang 2020!

[ masterpost for all chapters ]

CHAPTER 14 OF 22

... I choked on such longing I couldn’t spit out. Yes, desire is so different when God bore you hungry. I could have devoured anything and still have been starving. In one version of our story the fruit is in your chest. David, I eat it anyway. O, I know nothing but to take & keep taking.

- Belovéd, Yves Olade

Something in their world shifts.

She hadn’t exactly formally talked it out with Vincent, but it’s somehow settled that she would be there for him to talk to whenever he had something about his exhibit that he wanted to discuss. It was different to have someone on “neutral ground”—someone who wasn’t Theo, who wasn’t carrying the weight of having to bear everything else for the exhibit to happen. And Theo doesn’t mind sharing the space with Vincent with her, either. ‘

It starts simple. A little group chat with Theo (although he rarely responds to the messages) and Vincent to toss ideas, throw little inspirational things. On Friday afternoons, when her schedule is a little more open, she sometimes visits the van Gogh house to check on Vincent and what he’s done so far. She helps him with the expressions on his models, gives him insight into what a viewer would think of the painting. Having been born and raised in this place, she gives the best advice on what places would have the best views to paint, where it would be possible to go outside and sketch and draw.

The exhibit slowly comes into shape.

Theo helps Vincent with the technicals: looking for a place to set it up, preparing the documents for the panel, buying the art materials, providing some comments for half-finished works. She helps Vincent with the storyline: drawing out his story of the little boy with paint seeping out of her hands, leaving a trail of art wherever he goes. How the world changes with every bit of it he touches.

But most importantly, they make sure they are there for Vincent, constantly nudging him in the direction he wants to go but is sometimes too hesitant to.

The final exams roll in with the same kind of raucousness as the midterms did, but there is a quiet kind of understanding between her and Theo that is different from the last time. The gang—she, Theo, Arthur, and Dazai—gathers to study together that pre-finals week, but it’s as if it’s only her and Theo around.

She peers up from what she’s writing on her notebook and when she finds Theo staring, she smiles up at him and he turns away with a grumble at being caught even if he knew he would. When he has his glasses on and is busy reviewing something on his computer, his eyes running left and right over pages of notes, she observes the way the feeble sun shines weak gold over his deep honey-colored hair, soft and likely gentle to the touch—and he lets her.

Arthur, of course, has something he wants to say, but this time he’s smart enough to hold it in, Dazai nudging him gently with his elbow, knowing it would be the worst shame to interrupt the little world she and Theo are in.

It is only once final exams have finished that the preparation for the exhibit rolls into full force for the brothers. Both Theo’s hours at the bookshop and Vincent’s hours at the café lessens as the university rolls into holiday mode, and now more than ever is Vincent working non-stop at his paintings, like they’re burning to get out of him.

Vincent now has time to get out his art.

And Theo—Theo has time to dream about the future.

And dreaming about the future.

Just in time for Christmas.

“Hey Arthur, what should I get Theo?”

She and Arthur are sitting at the Little Owl, waiting for Dazai to arrive. The two lovebirds were having their Christmas date early, because this year, Arthur is coming home to his family, likely to mooch for money. She intended to say no at first—after all, this is their date, regardless of whatever label they had for whatever was going on between the two of them—but upon the realization that Dazai was not only picky with food (and also had great taste) but also footing the bill, ‘yes’ was the only possible option.

Besides, Arthur wasn’t taking no for an answer, and she had to wrestle herself out of his original condition that she could only come if she was bringing Theo along, like a double date.

Arthur looks up from the little crossword puzzle he was solving on the café’s shared newspaper. “A kiss,” he answers without missing a beat. “Twenty, maybe. That might soften him.”

“Arthur.”

“Oh, he uses that exact tone on me too, little miss. Very uncanny.”

“I’m not giving him a kiss,” she sighs, turning her head back to her notebook, with the scribbled list of people and items next to their names. “You’re the worst person to ask.”

Arthur puts on a faux-offended face. “I’m only telling you what he’d appreciate the most.”

“Okay, smarty,” she rolls her eyes. “I’m just trying to get everyone Christmas presents.”

“You’re getting him something for Christmas?” Arthur’s eyes are wide in genuine surprise.

“I’m getting you something too!”

He hums. “Is that so. Entirely normal, platonic gifts.”

“Arthur!” she pouts. “I swear, there’s no bigger meaning to it. I like giving gifts for Christmas. It’s kind of routine at this point.”

“So you’re getting Vincent a gift too.”

“Of course.”

“And I, Dazai, and Isaac.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “What, I have to give you a full list of who I’m giving gifts to for Christmas?”

“Yes,” Arthur says, tapping her nose with a pen. She scrunches up her nose in response. “Checking for fairness.”

“Fairness?!” she looks at him pointedly. “Look, you’re just fishing for clues that I’ll get Theo something—” she raises her fingers to make air quotes, “—‘more meaningful’ and ‘more valuable’ than the rest of you guys as a clue to whatever the hell your theory is.”

“It’s not a theory, little bird, it’s an observation,” Arthur says, with a laugh. “The fact that you still refuse to say what my theory is out loud is really telling, you know?”

“No, it’s because it’s not true.”

“What is not true?”

“Your theory.”

“Which is?”

Which is that I’ve entirely fallen in love with Theo and I don’t want to admit it because I’m afraid of what happens after that and if I own up to it. It’s not true at all. Not even the littlest bit.

Why would she be afraid of something she loves?

Not her, no. She’s the kind of person who runs toward what she wants.

This doesn’t make any sense.

She sighs. “Why did I even ask you. This is pointless. I’ll ask Vincent instead.”

“Oh, but he wouldn’t know what our dearest Theo would want,” Arthur hums. “He’s hard to give gifts to.”

“Wait, ‘our’?” she begins to argue, but then shakes her head. “Never mind. How are you claiming more knowledge than Vincent? Theo hates your guts.”

“Because he knows I know him.”

“That means he hates my guts too.”

“He does.”

She sighs. There’s not much point arguing with Arthur oftentimes—the best way is to surrender and then just try and figure out a way out of the mess one had walked into afterward. “Okay, fine. What is it that he’d appreciate getting for Christmas?”

Arthur grins. “You owe me one?”

She groans. She knows she will regret this deeply like she did the last time, but—“I do! Now ‘fess up!”

The holiday season in their university town is quiet. Much quieter, at least, than on regular school season. Most of the students go back to their hometowns after the exams, and the streets get quieter and quieter the closer it is to Christmas. Stores that used to be open most of the day open later and close earlier; cafés and libraries and emptier; the streets are less crowded. The hustle and bustle become muted and more peaceful.

Theo likes being on campus around this time of year because it’s different from the usual. Before Theo attended the university, when Vincent was the only one out here, his brother used to come home for the holidays. But ever since Theo came here, and the entire incident with Vincent’s graduation and his project came into light, they hadn’t gone home—mostly to save the money, but also because it doesn’t… feel right to go home back yet.

That’s alright. It’s not as if it’s lonely out here in late December.

Not all students go home. Arthur goes home—he says it’s for a sweetheart who has “long been missing him”, but they all know better. Dazai and Isaac stay a little longer than the other students do, but they go home as well. But Vincent and Theo stay.

And so does she.

It’s a beautiful city to spend the winter in, after all.

Like most places, there’s a little holiday culture of its own in the town as well. A student representative council gathers early in December to arrange a gigantic potluck-slash-party at around noon on the 24th, where students who have stayed get to hang out with everyone else who is still there to share some Christmas cheer. The event is usually held at the Grove, which means there’s also space to ice skate. Some vendors are invited to sell their wares of Christmas food as well—and of course, alcohol is included. Speakers are installed and Christmas music, both lively and more romantic, play throughout the course of the party. Those who sign in earlier get to join in an exchange gift affair at the latter part of it too. There’s also a raffle for little gifts and prizes. And of course, there’s the snowball fight. It’s a small, homey event, and many students actually decide to stay on campus for this particular party.

Every year, Theo is pretty neutral about the potluck.

Every year, Vincent wants to go. So Theo always comes with him.

And this year… Vincent is inviting her too.

He considers getting her a pack of highlighters.

He doesn’t know much about the world of stationery and fancy studying materials, but there’s a certain brand of fancy highlighters he sees a lot around campus. They’re not the easiest brand to get, according to his research, but if he orders it soon it might just make it on time.

Or maybe a fountain pen?

Fountain pens are classy. And thoughts have been given on them, so he knows it’s not a bad shot. He isn’t quite sure what kind, though, what brand, and maybe he could get one that’s the exact same model and brand as his, but isn’t that a little too obvious? He doesn’t want to be too obvious. He doesn’t want it to be obvious at all, or even known.

A book, perhaps, might be the best option, then.

Books have been an integral part of their… relationship, anyway. No other meaning to that. If there is anything to be read about that, then that’s not on him, is it? That makes this entire process simpler. He’ll just need to drop by the bookstore, check the stocks, pick up the most mundane and boring poetry book—the lamest, the worst, why would he give something meaningful—and then get a gift bag, maybe some wrapping paper—

Theo is so deep in his thoughts he doesn’t catch Vincent entering the room, even as the door behind his older brother closes with a click. The look on Theo’s face—furrowed brows, tense shoulders, the light in his eyes—makes Vincent smile just the tiniest bit.

The sound of his voice shakes Theo out of his reverie.

“Have you chosen what to get her?” Vincent asks, providing no context. He doesn’t need to. He knows his brother well, and he even turns away from Theo to lessen the blow, pretending to look for something in his bedside drawer.

“I’m not getting her anything,” Theo scoffs weakly, his frown deepening as the tips of his ears turn bright red.

Sometime around noon of the 24th, the three of them meet at the plaza to join the potluck. The brothers bring cupcakes—“I didn’t know you baked, Vincent!” “It wasn’t me, it was Theo.” “Oh?”—and she brings some spaghetti, and the rest of the table is overflowing with food to eat. Everyone is dressed in shades of gold, red, green, and white. Music plays through the speakers attached to the streetlights.

Her face kind of hurts with how big she’s smiling.

She doesn’t hate life on the campus, no, but it’s become monotone, a little too uninteresting that leaves her on edge. It’s exactly why she was so eager to get on with Arthur’s dare and get to know Theo in the first place—she had that sense that maybe it would bring her somewhere new, somewhere fascinating. The only exception to the otherwise boring campus life is on big events like this holiday party, and the feeling is something she can’t get enough of.

The party goes just about as one would expect—her, pulling Vincent around by the elbow getting him to try all the different kinds of food laid out (“No, no, I couldn’t possibly eat anymore—” “Just one more bite! Just one!”); her, pulling Theo by the wrist to join her and Vincent in ice-skating (“I’m not interested.” “You have no say in the matter!”); and then, of course, Theo, pelting her right in the face with a snowball (the most annoyed pout she can muster, together with “Oh you want war, then you’re getting it!”)

It is already four in the afternoon when the three of them make it out of the hubbub. Theo is walking with his hands in his pockets, humming along to one of the Christmas songs now aggressively stuck in his head after having heard it at least 60 times in the past four hours. She teases him about it and he frowns about it, but he’s still humming.

“I ate too much!” she whines, clutching her stomach pitifully as they walked. “Absolutely no regrets though. I love Christmas potluck, but this year was just crazy.”

Vincent laughs. “You really shouldn’t have gotten that last pretzel,” he chides.

“But it was so good! I don’t know where they sourced that cinnamon, but it made me cry.”

Theo snorts. “You cried?”

“I did, I don’t understand how one wouldn’t,” she sighs. “Theo, you were just too into your chocolate-topped-with-caramel-topped-with-strawberries-topped-with—” she takes a breath, “—diabetes cake thing. Why was that even allowed to exist.”

“You just have no taste,” Theo says, but it has no venom in it.

She grins. “Neither do you.”

“That makes us even.”

She should be going home by now—the sun will be setting soon, and she’d rather not be walking home in the dark in the snow—but her little apartment building is rather empty for the holidays, and it can get quite lonely when the rest of the campus is still celebrating. It’s a good thing she doesn’t need to tell the brothers for them to understand, and they let her walk with them all the way back to their little house, the one she’s been in so often in the past few months, it kind of feels like a second home too.

“Hot chocolates?” Vincent asks once they’ve made it through the threshold with matched sighs, hanging his coat by the rack. She whoops and cheers.

“Yes please!” she says, “I’ll choose a movie!”

Christmas has never really been a special holiday to her in the past. Sure, it’s enjoyable, and involves a lot of food and gifts, the questionable-if-enjoyable company of a lot of family members, sometimes even distantly extended ones, and most of the sense of the holiday is about its commercialized form instead of the actual religious holiday, giving it an alienating feeling, but—

This year it’s a little different.

Feels a little different.

Not quite like the usual.

Not when she’s snuggled under a blanket, Theo in between her and Vincent, a mug of hot chocolate in her hands, Klaus on the TV. Not when it’s been a long semester of burning the midnight oil studying and working so hard, and then suddenly it feels like it’s okay to rest.

Rest in this place that lets her curl up warmly in its softness.

And sure, maybe some things feel the same, familiar, like Theo’s nose, scrunched up because he’s taking the movie a little too seriously, or Vincent’s sunny smile, or Arthur’s text message in her phone of [ no mistletoe? 🎄 ]—but it’s different.

The longing tearing at her heart, she begins to be sure that she’ll miss this.

It’s not home but she’s sure if one day she will ever find it, it will probably feel like this.

They sit around the living room talking to each other even after the movie ends, and by the time it truly feels like the day has settled down around them, the sun is long out of the sky. Slowly, the sinking feeling that she had overstayed her welcome begins to crawl over her, once Vincent brings their now-empty mugs onto the kitchen sink. She straightens up at her seat, nervously fidgeting next to the mountain of blankets separating her and Theo on the couch.

And then suddenly, she remembers.

“Oh, but before the night ends—”

She digs into her bag and pulls out a small gift, wrapped with a yellow ribbon. Vincent returns to the living area just at the right moment, so she hands the present to Vincent. “Merry Christmas, Vincent! It’s not much, but I hope it proves helpful for your current project.”

He doesn’t know it yet, but it’s a box of fresh paints, the brand he uses. Not in as wide an array of colors of what he does have, but still a good number. She made sure to check which ones he used the most.

“You didn’t have to!” he says, summer sun in his smile. “Thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome, Vincent, of course,” she says. And then, she pulls out another thing—turning towards Theo as she hands him a box, neatly held together with starry wrapping paper and a sheer white ribbon. “Merry Christmas, Theo. Thanks for everything this year.”

Vincent chuckles at the look of surprise on Theo’s face. Theo looks back at his brother, betrayed.

But he doesn’t have much time for that, because the gift is hovering in between him and her awkwardly. He takes it and mumbles a soft, “Um, thanks.”

She blinks. “Do you not want it?”

“I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Surprises are good this time of year,” she says. Grins when she catches the tips of Theo’s ears already pink. Vincent spots it too and laughs, as he reaches out from underneath their little Christmas tree to hand them some gifts as well.

By the heft of it, she guesses what’s inside her wrapped present is a small painting; she beams at Vincent and throws him an embrace in thanks. Vincent gifts Theo a gray sweater with a reindeer on it, the kind of gift one would receive from their grandmother instead of their brother, but Theo quickly puts it over his shirt excitedly anyway.

She wonders why Theo hasn’t opened her gift to him yet.

Vincent manages to say up to half of “And what about you, Theo?” when Theo quickly gets up on his feet, saying, “I should walk you home,” pointing at the clock on the wall. Solidly eight at night. Not that late, really, but—there’s no good overstaying. Her heart drops a little but she nods anyway.

“Yeah, I should,” she agrees. “Thank you for today, Vincent.”

He beams. “Of course. Come join us anytime.”

Theo holds the gift box she had given him under his arm and turns to her. “Ready in 5?”

“Yup, I just need to go to the restroom,” she says. “I’ll be back.”

She clears her head quickly in the bathroom. She doesn’t know when she started to get so riled up whenever Theo walked her home—late evenings at the van Goghs on Fridays spent talking about the exhibit has made it a common affair—but tonight, her heart is hammering in her chest somehow. It’s been a normal day. Nothing’s different, she convinces herself, so there’s no need for all these theatrics and heart acrobatics.

When she gets out to the foyer, she catches Theo leaning against the wall, his hands in the pockets of his coat, and—

The deep blue scarf around his neck.

The one she chose for him.

Arthur said the best gift to give Theo is one he will be able to use, but—

She hadn’t imagined seeing it in use would leave her dry of words, too.

“Let’s go?”

She pretends the flush in her face is due to the sudden cold. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The walk home isn’t entirely quiet. She checks her phone and shows him the photos of Christmas eve the rest of their friends have sent them, in the group chat Theo never checks because he’s just not that kind of guy. Then they talk about the party, her profusely accusing Theo of attempted murder for having hit her right on target at the face pretty hard with that snowball. And then, they turn toward talking about the exhibit, and Vincent, and the upcoming year and—

Talk like this, about the little things, like they usually do.

The comforting usuals of their friendship.

Nothing different. Nothing new.

Just the usual.

Finally, after 20 minutes she wanted to last forever, they make it to her apartment complex. They bid goodbye at the entrance. She’s just about turned around to leave when she feels the warmth of his fingers around her wrist, pulling her back.

“Theo?” “Hondje," they call to each other at the same time.

He hands a small, wrapped box he’s kept underneath his coat towards her.

“For you.”

She blinks. Oh, if Arthur could have seen their mirrored expressions from their exchange of gifts, he would have laughed so loudly. “What is this?”

He narrows her eyes at her, as if she said something stupid. “A gift.”

“I mean—” she begins, but then just chuckles. “I mean thanks. This means a lot.”

“Don’t think about it too hard. Rest well,” he says, the following syllables of her name just light on his lips. The sound of it makes her nerves flutter. She holds onto the gift box in her hand tightly instead, as if making sure it’s there. That this is real. Theo gives her a look like she’s transparent. “You’re always welcome at the house. No matter how long you stay. Merry Christmas.”

A smile creeps up on her face uncontrollably. “Merry Christmas too, Theo.”

She waves goodbye to him and watches him disappear off the corner before she runs upstairs to go to her room—to shut the door behind her and take a deep breath. She shrugs her coat off, tucks the mittens inside the pockets.

Puts the little box she’d been holding so carefully, still warm from Theo’s coat, along with her little wrapped painting from Vincent, underneath the small makeshift Christmas tree sitting on her kitchen counter.

Earlier that day, Theo had slipped a note in between the pages of a poetry book—on an old receipt he’d scribbled on at the back, which said: thanks for helping my brother out. thought our little miss ‘love is the answer to all of the world’s problems’ would enjoy a bit of e.e. cummings.

And tomorrow, first thing on Christmas morning, sipping on hot chocolate with sugar marshmallows on top, she will open the box and find the note and grin widely. And, in a reversal of her usual, she will make herself comfortable on the couch, overlooking the window, the falling snow, and read the book slowly, investing her heart in each syllable. Listening to every sound in her head. Carrying each word gently, taking her time.

Dipping her feet lightly into the book. Relishing in the curve of the words on her lips as she reads—words Theo chose and wrapped into a gift, then given to her.

#the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart #ikemen vampire #ikevamp theo

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noladyme · 4 years ago

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Skip To My Lou, My Darling - Chapter 5, Bloody Demons I

Disclaimer: I posted this story a few days ago, hating it, and regretting it the minute it was up. I re-wrote it, and hope you’ll like it.

The road so far…

Waitress. School teacher. Bartender. Hunter. Lulu has come a long way since she first met the Winchesters, including the father, John. Having left behind the occult for a life of peace, she was ripped out of it, when – once again – the Winchesters came in to her life. Realizing she is in the life now – for good – she also made a decision for herself. To live that life without the only man she has ever truly cared for. Both to keep him and his brother safe from leviathans, angels and demons; but also, because she doesn’t trust that her feelings for Dean are true – and not part of some higher plan set up by celestial powers.

Our story continues in season 8

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added) @edonaspanca @wonderlandfandomkingdom

You’d be surprised how much info you can get in a library. This statement might seem ridiculous, because – of course – a library holds all the knowledge in the world. But there’s more than what you can find in books. There’s peoplewatching.

If you look at what people check out, you’ll learn a lot about them. That middle aged woman checking out a book on auto repairs – her car broke down, and he husband usually takes care of those kinds of things; but now he’s left her for a younger woman. The teenage boy with the masses of comic books in his arms – odds are there is at least one My Little Pony comic among them, that he’s too embarrassed to buy at a store; so he goes to the library to get it, hiding it among comics about big breasted women and superheroes. The woman sitting alone at a table with a massive paper cup of black coffee; surrounded by books on local history and papers and notes on the occult – if you came into the library on that specific day; that was me. And I was hunting a ghost.

I’d spent more than a year salting and burning my way across the states; avoiding any real fights, and sticking to the easier and more obvious cases, where all I needed was to open a grave, and take care of the bones. Managing to convince my ex, Pete – who was still reeling from the traumatic temporary memory loss he’d suffered, after being kidnapped by leviathans – to send my belongings to my friends in San Francisco; I was now free to disappear for good. No strings attached; save for the occasional call to Raul – letting him know I was alive, and still serving beer in Alaska. In reality, I was in Hartford, near Sioux Falls, South Dakota; having just picked up a box of old papers stood in the basement of a good acquaintance.

“How was your visit with the good sheriff?”, a female voice asked me. I jumped in my seat; having been deeply invested in a piece of paper scribbled over with rantings of what seemed like a madman – who’s every tenth word was balls. “Jesus Christ, Tamara”, I hissed. “You scared the crap out of me!”. My friend sat down across from me, and took the paper from my hand. “Bobby Singer… I still can’t believe what happened to him”, Tamara said sadly.

I rested my elbow on the table, and took a sip from my coffee. “When did you last see him?”, I asked. Tamara’s face was ghosted with sadness, before she met my eyes. “Years ago. Back when Isaac…”. She didn’t finish the sentence. “You never told me what happened to him”, I said. “I mean, you don’t have to…”. She smiled slightly. “It’s all right”, she said. “Demons. We were working on taking out a whole group of them, when… he didn’t make it”. She sighed. “Bobby was there; along with some younger lads… Sam and Dean Winchester. Heard of them?”.

It had been a long time since I’d heard those names. Even Jody didn’t mention them to me, when I checked in with her – as she’d insisted I do weekly, after that one time I called her from the ER, telling her about a tulpa in Minnesota; that I needed her to have the brothers check out. I’d had no idea what to do with it; and had ended up with a nasty gash down my ribs. She’d told me she hadn’t been in touch with them for months, and didn’t know how to reach them at the moment. I’d thanked her, but when she heard the sadness in my voice, she’d insisted on picking me up, and I’d spent a few days on her couch; eating lasagna and watching daytime tv. I’d been too afraid to decline, when she used her mom-voice on me.

I swallowed hard. “You worked with them?”, I muttered. “Only that once”, Tamara said. “Why, you know them?”. The corner of my lip twitched. “I saw that!”, Tamara gasped. “What?”, I croaked. “Which one…?”, she whispered. “Sam… he’s got that tall broody thing going”. She smirked at me as I looked away. “Oh… Dean… Sure you didn’t catch anything?”. “Tammy!”, I hissed. “Don’t you Tammy me!”, she retorted. “That car… is it to compensate; or does he not need that…?”. I met her eyes, and gave her a crooked smile. She grinned widely at me. I shook my head. “I have work to do”, I muttered.

Forcing myself to ignore the memory of Dean and his car – and Dean in his car; with me on his lap – I returned to the 1950 death of a young woman, who had ever since been seen, once a year, walking over a bridge near a lover’s lane. Tamara sighed. “I need to get to Kansas”. “That vampire nest?”, I asked, taking another large sip of my coffee. She nodded. “You sure you don’t want to join me? Girls trip?”, she asked. “You have all the help you need up there; and I never took down a vamp before. I’d just get in the way”, I answered. “But thank you for the ride here”, I added.

She stood up. “You, my friend, need a car!”. “Yeah… Digging up old graves and reading weird books doesn’t exactly pay well”, I muttered. The last car I’d had, had broken down three months earlier. She looked at me with worried eyes. “You can’t keep hitch-hiking across the country, love”, she said. “Bloody dangerous, that is”. “I’ll be fine. Really”, I smiled. I stood up, and hugged my friend goodbye; and promised to call if anything came up, she needed to help out with.

I took a bus back to my motel, and settled in for the night; with a beer and some day-old pizza. My burner-phone buzzed; and recognizing the number, I picked up. “Hey, Jody”, I said. “Did I forget something at your place?”. “Hey, sweetie. Uhm…”. “What? Jody…”, I demanded. “I just had a visit from a weird guy in a flasher-coat… he was looking for you”, she said. Castiel, I thought to myself – my heart leaping from my chest. “What did he… Did he hurt you?”, I asked; by instinct reaching for the angel sword. “No… But he wanted to know where you were”. She sighed. “Look, I don’t mind being your switchboard receptionist; god knows, things around here can get downright dull. But this guy…”. I chewed my lip. “I’m sorry, Jody… Did you tell him where I was?”, I asked. She scoffed. “You won’t even tell me yourself. How could I?”.

I sighed; unsure whether it was in relief, or something else. “You know, I’m aware you’re close by… I could just check all motels in a 40-mile radius for check-ins by classic rock superstars…”, Jody said, a smile in her voice. “Going full cop on me?”, I grinned. “I don’t use those anymore… too obvious”. “Burlesque names then?”, she said. “You caught me…”, I replied. As it was, I was checked in as Justinia Timberlake; going with boybands – for reasons I didn’t want to admit to myself. “Thanks, ma’…”. “Well, that makes me feel old… Anyway, he said he’d be back later tonight. Needed to find you. Do you want to be found by him?”.

I took a deep breath, pondering the question. No, I didn’t want to be found by the person who’d let leviathans loose on the world; causing me to be almost eaten by one 18 months ago. Yes, I wanted to see my friend; to know he was ok. He hadn’t hurt Jody to get to me, so maybe he was good Cass again. I sighed. “When he comes, tell him… Tell him I’ll be in the shower at the Motel 6 in Hartford. Room 13”. I’d know when he arrived if I could trust him. “That sounds… Ok, I’ll tell him. Be careful, Lulu”. “I will. Bye, Jody”. I hung up; and began preparations.

---

Bobby’s journal had helped me out quite a bit in the last year, helping me keep under the radar by pointing out which motels were off the beaten path; and which monsters to stay clear of. Even after it seemed the leviathans had disappeared, I still kept well away from anyone and everything that might put me in contact with angels and demons – and the Winchesters for that matter.

Another thing it had taught me was the sigil I was currently writing on the wall; while still wincing in pain from the gash in my palm I’d cut to draw blood. All my belongings were in my backpack – which I was wearing – and my sword was in my hand. I was ready to repel a crazy angel; and to skip town quickly. I took a deep breath, and readied myself.

After what seemed like forever – just standing next to a bloody scribbling on a wall – I felt a gush of wind; and Castiel stood in front of me. He was covering his eyes with one hand, and holding out a towel with the other. The sight brought joyous tears to my eyes.

“Cass…”, I breathed. The angel carefully parted the fingers over his eyes – and satisfied that I was indeed dressed – he dropped the towel, and smiled at me. “Lulu. It is good to see you”. I dropped my sword, and leapt over to embrace my friend. Castiel reacted as he’d always done when I showed him affection; by tensing up, and gently patting my head. He smelled like old librarian mixed with fresh air, and – for some reason – musk and gunpowder. He’d been with them.

I let go of him, and stepped back. “What happened? Are you ok?”, I asked. The angel smiled amiably. “Yes. I am… myself again”, he said. “I have to apologize for our last meeting. I was… different”. I gave him a crooked smile. “I wish I could say it was water under the bridge, but you did kind of bad-touch me”, I said. “Not sexually, I mean… but still”. Cass chuckled. It was a strange – almost human – reaction. “Yes, I carved words into your bones. It is also why I haven’t been able to find you”.

I took off my backpack, and got out the small first aid kit I had in it. Castiel frowned. “I’m sorry, but I can’t heal you. I need to save my strength”. I shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ve been taking care of my own wounds for over a year”. “Yes, that is what others have told us…”. My breath hitched, and I tried to seem indifferent. “Us?”, I croaked; and began running a bandage around my hand. “Yes”, Cass nodded. “Me, Sam… and Dean. We’ve been looking for you for a few weeks. We need… your book. Bobby Singer’s book”. Just the book. Of course, it was just that. “We are working on… something”. I let out a scoffing laugh. “Well call me not surprised”, I said.

Cass stepped towards me. “So… you’ll give me the book?”. I narrowed my eyes at him. “No”. “No?”, Cass retorted with a confused look at me. “That’s right”, I smiled. “It’s mine”. “But… we need it”.

I took a deep breath; and made a decision. “Where the book goes, I go… So, I’ll go with you”. Castiel’s eyes lit up. “You will? That’s… good. I think”, he smiled. “I can take you right away”. He stepped towards me. “Wait, stop!”, I said. Cass halted. “Where?”. “Lawrence, Kansas. It’s a safe place, don’t worry”, the angel smiled.

I looked down at my feet. I was wearing my boots; that was good. I packed up my backpack, and put it on my back. I picked up the box of Bobby’s old papers; but Cass took them from me, so I wouldn’t have to carry them. “Ok… let’s go”, I croaked.

Castiel lifted an arm, and walked towards me; putting his hand on my shoulder.

---

We were standing by a large mound with what looked like an old factory building seemingly growing out of it. My legs felt like jelly, and Cass grabbed my arm to steady me. “We’re here”, he said. “Where’s here?”, I asked breathily. “I’ll show you”, Cass smiled. We walked up a small road, and passed a black car I recognized from my past – and my dreams and nightmares. Cass led me to a metal door sprouting from the mound. “It’s inside”, he muttered, and opened the screeching door for me.

I stepped inside and was met by a dark spiral staircase leading downwards. Castiel walked ahead of me; which I was thankful for, as I didn’t trust my own legs, and would rather be caught by him, than fall and break my neck. Suddenly a warm light hit me, and I stepped out on a balcony overlooking a large room outfitted with a large table made out as a map. The scent of library hit me, and I understood why Castiel had smelled the way he did when I hugged him. The large room was warm and inviting; but also looked very official, with it’s filing cabinets, and papers on the table.

Castiel walked ahead of me down another flight of stairs, and put the box of papers on the mapped table. “I’m back!”, he called out. “About time!”, a voice that sent shivers down my spine growled. “Please tell us you got something. At least dinner”. “I’m afraid I didn’t have the time to get food for you”, Cass said, and walked towards a large archway leading to another room further inside the bunker – as I decided this place was. “Dude, I gave you 20 bucks for burgers!”.

I considered turning around and leaving. I screamed at myself internally to just haul ass up the stairs, and never come back. But I couldn’t.

Castiel stood in the archway, and looked up at me. “I brought the journal… And a guest”. “You shouldn’t bring people here”, I heard Sam’s voice. My heart pounded, as I heard footsteps across hardwood floor; and then my 6’4 friend stood in the archway with the angel; looking the direction he was. His jaw instantly dropped, and his eyes sparkled.

“I want my 20 bucks back, dude”, Dean said as he joined the other two. “I could eat a…”. He looked up. “Lou…”. Castiel frowned. “You can’t eat…”. “Shut up”, Dean croaked, stepping down the few stairs into the large concrete floored room.

I took a gasping breath; having to remind myself to breathe at all. “Hi…”, I rasped. Dean seemed unsure what to say. “Hey…?”. I began descending the stairs into the room; taking care to hit every step just so, so I wouldn’t trip. Before I hit the last step; Dean took four long strides towards me – and threw his arms around me – holding me tight against him. I put my arms around his neck, and he lifted me down the last steps. Musk, gunpowder, whiskey – Dean. My warm, constantly five o’clock shadowed, strong; yet so fragile, Dean.

I had to tear myself from him; taking short breaths, and trying desperately not to inhale him even further. It was agony. His eyes where as deep and soulful as ever, and the corner of his lip lifted; giving him an expression I couldn’t define as whether being relief, joy or pain – or maybe all three at once.

“Lulu?”, Sam croaked from behind me. I turned around, and threw myself into his arms, earning a spin in the air, as he lifted me. “Hi, Sammy”, I breathed. He squeezed me tightly. “Air!”, I gasped. “Sorry”, Sam chuckled, and put me down; before stroking my cheek.

All four of us stood for a moment, before Castiel cleared his throat. “Well, Lulu is here now. She has the book”, he said. “We can get on with our work”. “Just give us a moment here, Cass”, Sam said. “How are you, Lulu? We’ve been looking for you”. ”You shouldn’t have”, I muttered. “I know, you made that pretty clear last time we heard from you. But…”, Sam began. “We need Bobby’s book”, Dean said; having stepped up next to me. Right, the book.

I raised a brow at him. “My book. And you can’t have it”, I said. Dean frowned. “But… we need it”, he said. “So do I”, I retorted. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Why does it feel like we’ve had this conversation before?”. “Because we did, agent Osbourne”, I chuckled. “Right”, he smiled.

Sam – who apparently just needed a bucket of popcorn for the entertainment he was getting from our conversation – stifled a smile. “Lulu, we’re working on something pretty big here”, he said. “What?”, I asked. “Saving humanity”, Dean said. “Again?”, I sighed. Sam let out a soft laugh. “Wouldn’t be us if it wasn’t, right?”.

I walked up the stairs into the other room, which walls were covered in filing cabinets and books. “What is this place?”, I asked, in awe. Sam followed me into the room. “This is The Men of Letter’s bunker”. “Who are they?”. “Us… now”, Dean shrugged. “We’re kind of like a secret society”. His smugness was tangent of embarrassing. “Look, we’ll fill you in on whatever you want…”, Sam began. Dean cleared his throat, and suddenly looked at his brother with hard eyes.

I rolled my eyes. “This again…”, I muttered. Dean frowned. “What?”. “We need to keep you safe. Keep your head low. Stay here. Go there”, I imitated his growling. “I don’t sound like that!”, Dean growled; proving my impersonation had been right on. He frowned at me, looking cute as a button doing so. I sent him a pouting smile. “Whatever. We need the book”. “And I told you. You can’t have it. I need it”. “For what?”, he grunted. “For jobs”, I replied.

Dean pursed his lips, and blew out a deep breath; clearly trying to control himself. “So you have been… doing jobs…”. “Of course I have”, I said. “What else am I supposed to do? Officially, I think I’m probably dead. There aren’t a lot of teaching gigs out there for dead chicks, who hit the road with fugitives”. He stepped over to me, and grabbed my hand. “And what’s this?”, he asked, pointing at the bandage on it. “A precaution”, I said. “Against me”, Castiel said. “Lulu was right to be careful. Last time she saw me…”. He looked down in remembrance; clearly still ashamed of his former actions.

Dean unwrapped my hand. “Sam, this needs stitches”, he grunted. I tore my hand from his grasp. “I’m fine”, I muttered. “You’re not fine, Lulu. You’re bleeding. Just let us fix you up”. I shook my head in surrender. “There’s a needle and some floss in my bag”, I said, and took of my backpack. “We have actual medical supplies now”, Sam smiled, and disappeared through a door.

Castiel slipped away as well, leaving me and Dean alone in the large room. I sat down at one of the large tables. Dean sat on the edge of the table. “So, hunting?”, he muttered. “How’s that treating you?”. “Well enough”, I said. He clenched his jaw. “Huh… How do you take down a werewolf?”, he asked. “Silver bullet”, I said. “Vampire?”, he continued, raising a brow at me. “Decapitation or fire”. “Shojo?”.

I let out a frustrated breath. “I have no idea, Dean. Never met one”, I said. “Never met a werewolf or a vampire either”. “Good, you’re not ready for any of that”, he said. “You shouldn’t even be here right now”. “It’s not safe”, I imitated him again. “Stop”, he grunted. “You have no idea how to be a hunter. Or what you’re getting yourself mixed up in by coming back here with Cass”. I clenched my jaw. “You’re right on one of those two accounts”, I said. “No, I don’t know what you’re working on, and it’s probably much to dangerous for me. But yes – I do know how to hunt. At least partly. And I’m learning as I go. Isn’t that what everybody does?”. He scoffed, and shook his head with a sarcastic smile. “In over your head, sugar”. “Screw you, Dean”, I growled.

I got of my chair; almost making it topple over from the force of my movement. “I have been working jobs all over for a long time now”, I hissed. “I’ve been playing it safe, yes; but what I’ve been doing, matters!”. Dean rolled his eyes. “Lou, you’re…”, he began. “A newbie. Unskilled, untrained; and with a desperate need for better equipment than the .45 you gave me 18 months ago”. I drew my lips back in a sneer. “But I’m not an idiot, and I don’t want to die. I’m not gonna throw myself at monsters I know nothing about, and can’t take down. But I have to learn to survive in this job, and I’m learning by working”. He shook his head. “You have no idea what you’re talking about”. “Then tell me!”, I yelled.

Dean suddenly laughed. The gesture made me want to smack him across the face, but my hand still hurt from the cut. I snatched Bobby’s journal from my bag, and held it up. “You want this?”, I snarled. “Then you treat me with a little more respect for what I’ve been doing the last year!”. I grabbed my bag, and stormed towards the stairs. “Lou!”, Dean called after me. “Go to Hell…! Again!”, I yelled over my shoulder.

I heard him run after me, and he grabbed my arm. “I’m sorry”, he said. “Really…”. I turned around to face him. “I don’t need your permission to do something I’m actually kind of good at”, I said. “You don’t know…”. “You’re right. I don’t”, Dean said earnestly. “So, tell me… please. Maybe I… we can help”. I calmed my breathing. “Let go of my arm”, I croaked. He instantly stepped back.

Sam returned with a box. “We’re out of disinfectant”, he said. “Whiskey it is”, I muttered. “Please tell me you have that”.

---

Soon after, we were seated at the big table; as Sam was carefully stitching up my hand. “So, Ohio… ow! Bloody hell, Sam!”, I hissed, as he poked the needle through my skin. “New curse words, Lou”, Dean chuckled. “And fancy English ones as well”. I smiled. “Yeah, speaking of Ohio… ow”, I continued. “A crazy nurse had been killing patients in the 40’s; and the hospital was closing down – pissing her off something fierce… ow”. “Sorry”, Sam muttered, and pulled at the surgical thread. Dean poured me another drink. “Go on”, he said.

“She was suddenly nabbing pretty much every and any patient she could”, I said; before taking a sip of the whiskey. “I was looking up where they’d buried her after her execution, but it turned out she’d been cremated”. “What did you do?”, Sam asked. He made a final stitch. “Remind me to smack you across the face, when this heals up”, I muttered. “That hurt!”. He chuckled at me, and began wrapping up my hand in a clean bandage. “I found out from an old picture that she had a locket around her neck; which they took from her before she died. It was displayed at a museum in Dayton; and when I tracked it down, I met another hunter”. I looked up at Dean. “Tamara”.

Dean looked stunned. “Tamara? As in British Tamara?”. “Yeah”, I smiled. “She’d gotten there before me; and like me, suspected a strand of hair might be stuck in the locket. I distracted the security guy long enough for her to nab it”. “How?”, he frowned. I looked at him innocently, biting my lip. He looked at me exasperatedly. “You didn’t… Please tell me you didn’t…”. I rolled my eyes. “Sleep with him? No. I just flirted with him a little”. Dean swallowed hard. “You do that all the time”, Sam grinned. “That’s totally different!”, Dean growled.

Sam shook his head. “Then what?”, he asked. “Salt and burn”, I smiled. “Which is pretty much all I’ve been doing. I haven’t been taking on anything hardcore. Yet”. “Really?”, Dean asked warily. I grimaced. “Well… about 9 months ago I came across a tulpa. I thought it was just your every day ghost, and I was just checking out the house; when it attacked me. Salt didn’t work, or iron…”. Dean suddenly looked tense. “What did it do to you?”, he growled. I lifted my t-shirt slightly; exposing a mostly white scar down my ribs. Dean reached over the table, and made to touch it, but I dropped the fabric, and sat back in my chair; finishing my drink in one go. “I had no idea what to do about it, but Bobby wrote something about you guys taking one out some years back; so I called Jody”.

“I asked the sheriff to help me find Lulu”, Cass said, having reappeared with a bag of Mexican food. “I have… taquitos. And jalapeño poppers”, he added, with a soft smile in my direction. “Ranch?”, I asked. The angel nodded. “I love you!”. Castiel cleared his throat. “I have warm emotions towards you as well”, he said.

“So, you called Jody. Why?”, Sam asked; packing up the medical kit. “To get her to have you take care of it. But she said she couldn’t get in touch with you”. Dean scratched his chin. “Yeah, Cass and I were in Purgatory, and Sam hit a dog…”, he muttered. I shook my head. “Nothing’s ever easy with you guys, is it…”.

I opened the bag Castiel had put on the table, and dived for my poppers. “Yum. Extra cheese”, I hummed. I noticed Dean’s eyes warming almost endearingly; but when I licked my finger for a stray dollop of dressing, his gaze suddenly darkened into something else. He parted his lips, and his eyes fastened on my mouth. My breath hitched, and I shook myself – quickly wiping my mouth with a napkin. “I’m gonna go grab the beer”, Dean grunted; and left the room as quickly as he could.

“So, what are you working on?”, my voice broke. “We found a tablet”, Sam said. “The word of God”. My eyes widened. “The actual word of God?”, I breathed. “What?”. “We’re going to use it to seal Hell. For good”. I nodded. “That sounds like an awesome idea!”, I smiled. “How can I help?”.

“You can’t”, Dean grunted, returning with three beers, and a bottle of seltzer for Cass. “This isn’t on you”. “But you need my book”, I said. “And you’re not getting that without my say so”. He tilted his head, and gave me his trademark smirk, sending electric jolts straight to my core. “We could always take it from you”. With bated breath, I put my sword on the table; keeping my hand on the hilt. “I’d like to see you try”, I croaked. “All right, you know…”. Dean clenched his fists, before rolling up his sleeves. I stood up. “We gonna dance now?”, I said; trying for menacing – and failing miserably. “Let me just get my NSYNC-album”, he snarled.

“Ok, guys! Stop!”, Sam called out. “Lulu, Dean’s right. This is a pretty dangerous operation we’ve got going on here. You shouldn’t get involved”.

I clenched my jaw, and took a deep breath to calm myself. “Tell you what… I’ll go back to my own work; and you three can figure out how to save the world without Bobby’s journal”, I said; beginning to put my jacket back on. “When you decide to stop acting like dicks, and let me in on why you’re trying to mess up my job, by taking away my research…”. “It’s Bobby’s research”, Dean snarled. “That he left for me!”, I yelled. “And it has my additions”. I went to grab my bag, when Dean snatched the journal from it, before I could reach it. He held it over his head, as he had my sword, years ago. “Don’t do this…”, I hissed. “I watched plenty of roller derby games, sweetheart. I know your moves”.

His smug smile lit a fire in me, like none other I had never felt before. I ran at him, throwing my shoulder against his chest, making him stumble backwards, and knock over a chair. The journal fell from his hand, and slid across the floor; and I threw myself after it. Dean grabbed my ankle; and I fell to the floor, on my stomach. I tried to kick myself free from his grasp – and reached the book; clutching it to my chest under me. Dean straddled me – his strong legs keeping me in place – and he twisted my body around by my shoulders. We wrestled for the books, and when Dean grabbed my wrists – forcing them over my head – I finally had to let go. He looked at me with hard eyes. “Take it”, he growled; still holding me in place. “Dean…!”, Sam yelled; running over to us. “Take it, Sam!”, his brother roared. Sam took the book from the floor, and looked at me with sad eyes. “I’m sorry, Lulu”, he muttered.

Dean stayed on top of me – holding me down. His weight on me made my body scream for his touch; at the same time as I wanted him to let me go, and to never touch me again. He looked enraged; but then a thought seemed to cross his mind – one that made him realize what he was doing. He let go of my wrists, and I pushed at his chest hard; making him get off me. Castiel came over, and helped me to my feet.

I stormed out of the room, and down a hallway of doors with numbers on them. Once I found number 13, I opened the door, and stepped inside; slamming it shut behind me.

I took deep breaths – fighting tears and hiccupping sobs. Looking around the room, I tried to focus on what I was seeing, to distract myself. Damn self-help books, I thought to myself. Please help me now. Five things I could see. A bed, a desk, a chair, a book on 1920’s psychiatry, and a dresser. Four things I could touch. I stood up. The floor, the wall, the comforter on the bed, and the gun in the back of my jeans. Three things I could hear. The clock ticking over the door, the drips from the faucet on the sink, and my own footsteps. Two things I could smell. Gunpowder and musk. Dammit. One thing I could taste. The whiskey I’d had earlier.

With one final breath, I felt my heart settle – before it sprang up in my throat again, when the door knocked. “Lou…? Can I come in?”. I stood with my back to the door, not answering. “I know you’re in there. Table 13; always table 13, right?”.

Dean opened the door, and stepped inside, closing it behind him.

“I’m sorry, baby… I didn’t mean…”, he began. “I still… It hurts… even being in the same room as you”, I croaked, and a tear fell down my cheek, as I turned around – making Dean’s face fall into a pained expression. “I keep trying to get over you… Hunting, drinking… sex”. He winced at the last word. “I tried it all, Dean, but it never works”. “I know…”, he breathed. He might as well have added an I feel the same – his eyes gave away the words. “Why doesn’t it work?”, I whimpered.

He stepped towards me, but I held up my hands to stop him. “Don’t… please”. I balled my fists up – forcing my body to stay in place, and not walk into his arms. “You can use my book. You have 48 hours, then I want it back”. Dean nodded solemnly. I closed my eyes. “After that, I’m gone. For good”. I crunched up my brows, and opened my eyes again, looking at Dean with as much determination I could muster. “You don’t look for me, don’t ask for me – pretend I’m a stranger if you hear my name”. Dean’s lips parted, but I continued before he could speak. “I’m done. I can’t… see you. It hurts to much”.

Dean’s eyes watered. “Lou, please… don’t do this”, he breathed. “Don’t throw me away like this”. “I’m sorry”, I rasped. “This isn’t real. If they hadn’t planned it, we would have never gone beyond that first kiss; you know it as well as I do”. He shook his head, and a tear escaped his eye. “I lo…”. “You don’t”, I said. “You think you do; but it’s only because I was made for you. I have to be my own. And I can’t, if you keep popping up in my life”.

Dean closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. When he looked at me again, I saw complete defeat in his gaze. I’d just broken his heart. “Ok. If that’s what you want”, he whispered, a tear escaping his eye. I wanted to say It’s not. I want you. I want us. But I needed a clean break, and I believed Dean needed that as well. “48 hours. Give me back the book, and you’ll never have to see me again. It’s better this way. For both of us”. Dean nodded. “You can stay in here, if it’s easier than being around me”, he muttered; eyes on the floor. “I’ll stay away”. “Thank you”, I croaked.

He left the room, and I closed the door behind him.

---

I stayed in the room for hours, curled up on the bed. At one point, there was a knock at the door; and when I opened, there stood a tray outside, with food and a bottle of seltzer. I sent a warm thought to Cass, and took the tray inside; eating my meal in peace. There was no entertainment in the room – save for the outdated book on psychiatry – and after finishing my meal, I was going stir crazy.

I tried to catch a little sleep, but couldn’t rest properly; and decided to leave the room. Avoiding going in to the library, I snuck down the hall; and examined my surroundings. I found a large kitchen, outfitted to serve a large amount of people. The fridge was filled with leftover fast food and beer; making it clear that the Winchesters had yet to become all the way domesticated. Down a smaller hallway was a large storage room, with things I was quite sure I shouldn’t be touching. I left the room as quickly as I had entered.

Passing another few numbered doors, I went past number 21. The door was slightly ajar, and inside, Sam was bent over Bobby’s journal, seemingly enraptured by what he was reading. He looked up, and met my eyes – sending me a crooked smile – before I hurried away, to avoid conversation. He didn’t follow.

I found what looked like an old-fashioned gym; and my eyes widened in glee. Here, I felt at home. The punching bags and boxing gloves reminded me of my sessions with Raul. I took off my boots, and grabbed a pair of gloves that seemed to fit my hands – turning my attention to one of the bags.

Punch, punch, kick. This I knew. All my frustrations – the pent-up emotions – I let travel through my arms and legs; as I attacked the bag. “You’re angry”, Cass said; having appeared in the doorway. “I’m… no”, I said. “You’re distraught”, the angel tried. “Something like that. I’m sad. Frustrated…”. I punched hard at the bag. “Tired”.

Muscle pain was building up in my shoulders, and I took off the gloves; dropping them on the floor next to me. “I thought you would be happy to see your friends”, Castiel said. I was thinking of a good way to explain my emotions to him. “I can’t… be happy. Not now”. “Why?”, Cass asked. I chuckled. “Talking to you is like talking to Rain Man”, I said. Castiel grinned. “I’ve seen that movie now. Uh oh, fart…”, he chuckled. “But I would like to understand”.

I punched the bag hard with my stitched-up hand; wincing from the pain. I held it up for Castiel to see. “This – pain – I can feel it. It’s real”, I said. “Impact… physical reaction… It makes sense”. “And happiness doesn’t?”, Cass asked. “No, because I can’t trust it… it’s not real”. Castiel looked like he was pondering my words. “But your physical interactions with Dean… those make sense, don’t they?”. I groaned. “Me and Dean… Is… was, more than physical”. “Yes I know”, the angel said. “You have feelings for each other”. “But they’re not real”, I explained. “Why not?”. “You should know”, I scoffed. “Angel…”.

Castiel seemed even more confused. “I’m not following”, he said. I shook my head. “I… just can’t do this anymore”, I breathed. I put my boots back on. “I’m going back to my room. You have about 40 hours left with my book”. I left the room and the angel behind.

I was feeling sweaty, and decided to search for a shower. The many hallways were confusing; and I finally caved, and decided to ask Sam for help. Arriving back at room 21, the door was closed, and when I knocked there was no answer. I opened the door to see if he was inside, but all I found was a made bed, and some clothes over a chair. I walked back towards the kitchen, and bumped in to Dean; who was leaving the room with a mug of coffee in his hand.

“Sorry”, I muttered, as I noticed his coffee having spilt slightly over the floor. “I’ll clean that up”. “Don’t worry about it”, he said quietly. “I got it…”. “Ok”, I nodded. “I just…”. He looked at me hopefully. “I was looking for a shower”. Dean nodded. “Down the hall, to the left by my… by room 11”, he said. “Thank you”, I whispered; and scurried off.

Finally finding the showers, I got undressed, and turned on the water. The water pressure and temperature were amazing; just like everything else in the bunker. So far, everything I had seen here was perfect. There were clean rooms, a well-stocked library, access to training equipment and weapons, and my friends were here. And Dean. I could stay here, and be happy. But it wouldn’t be real.

As I let the water drip over my naked body, I leaned against the wall. I began questioning my choice to continue hunting. I’d have never started in the life, if I hadn’t met the Winchesters – if angels hadn’t put me in their path. Maybe angels had sent the maren after me to begin with. Maybe I should quit.

The thought was comforting and terrifying all at once. I’d have to start over – again. Be a teacher or tend bars; that was all I knew, other than what I had been doing the last year. And I loved hunting, I helped people; even if I never let anyone know why their houses stopped having flickering lights; or why hospitals stopped losing patients who had only minor injuries. I stayed quiet about what I did; didn’t need the glory.

Turning off the water, I realized I hadn’t brought clean clothes into the bathroom; and wrapped myself in a large towel – slipping quietly down the hall to avoid meeting anyone. I passed room 11, and heard voices from inside.

“She doesn’t really want to be here, Cass”, Dean muttered. “Why? I don’t understand. You two…”, Castiel began. “Because it’s not real!”, Dean growled. “Your… ass-butt brothers made her specifically for me. It’s not real, it’s forced on me… and her”. “Dean…”. “Find some way to break this bond we have. It’s not fair to her…”, Dean said. “I can’t do that…”, Cass said quietly. “Why?”, Dean roared. There was no answer. “Cass… just get out”. The door began opening, as if someone was pulling at the knob, and I ran for room 13; closing and locking the door behind me.

Good. He was on the same page as me. And maybe there was a way to break our bond; and make me free of these feelings. Maybe Cass just didn’t know how to, and I just had to find another angel – or whatever – to help.

My phone rang – distracting me from my thoughts. “Yeah?”, I answered it. “Lulu. It’s Tamara”, my friend said. “Hey, Tammy. What’s up?”. “I need your help. My partner didn’t show up; and this nest isn’t a one-woman job”. I sighed. “Tammy…”. “I know, I know; but I really need you on this one. Think of it as a learning experience”. I frowned. It would be a good way to learn, I agreed – and I trusted Tamara knew what she was doing. On top of that, I needed to be as far away from Dean as I could. “Give me the address…”.

After Tamara had let me know where to meet her, I got dressed quickly, and put on my jacket. Almost running through the library, I saw Sam now bent over a strange looking rock, by the mapped table. “I’m going out. I’ll be back for my book”, I muttered, and went to get my backpack, when I realized it was missing. “I packed up a bag”, Sam said. “It’s got some better equipment for you; if you’re gonna keep up hunting”. I looked over my shoulder at him. “Thanks”, I muttered. “Welcome”, he said.

He handed me a canvas backpack, with a little more weight than my own. I opened it, and saw bullets and a large knife, and a machete in a leather sheath. “Silver ammo, iron knife; and there’s a zippo in the side pocket”. “Weres, witches and vampires. Got it”, I said; and put on the bag. Sam frowned. “Where are you going?”. “Just… out. Meeting a friend”, I said. “Do you have a car I can use until I get back?” He threw me a set of car keys. “There’s a Dodge parked a little way down the road. Take it. And uhm… my number. Just in case”. He scribbled down a number on a piece of paper, and came over to hand it to me. I smiled warmly, and pocketed the keys and the note. “How long will you be gone?”, Sam muttered. “As long as it takes. That’s how the job is, right?”, I shrugged. Sam’s face dropped. “What job?”, he demanded. I sighed. “Don’t worry. Your care-package here will keep me safe”, I smiled. “I’ll be back before you know it. Maybe you’ll even have a few extra hours with my book”. “Lulu… what job?”. I got on my toes, and kissed his cheek. “Bye, Sammy”. I ran up the stairs, and exited the bunker.

I found my “new” car half a mile down the road. It was rusty and sad looking; and fit my state of mind perfectly at the moment. I got settled in the driver’s seat, after having set the Dodge up the way I wanted it. Surprisingly, the engine started without trouble; and I turned on the radio. Dean must have driven the car before, because a tape began playing Girls Girls Girls. I was smiling sadly to myself, as I drove the car out on the road at the bottom of the mound.

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#dean winchester fic #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester #dean x oc #sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural fic

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