#but he is canonically spending at least six months a year in England

[rain-shoshana]

ABC murders more like Gay-BC murders! These fuckers make me wanna say a slur. Dog-like devotion indeed. And of course Aggie can’t resist a potshot at Sherlock Holmes at any opportunity.

[missjosie27]

Prompt Response #40- Ethren Whitecross

“Would it really be a crime to let yourself have some fun once in a while?”

The first in the responses for the prompts. I will say in advance that not all of this may make sense or appear ‘canon’. It’s also a sequel to ‘The Other World’ a story I wrote awhile back in honor of Ethren Whitecross. What first started out as a fun concept between two MCs, I turned into this for better or worse. And it was tough at times emotionally. But I poured my heart and soul into it. It is also non-canon and completely AU. That being said, I do love the multiverse and this was a great way to explore that.

@hogwartsmysterystory​ My friend. This is for you. And for Ethren. I hope you like it.

It had taken many moons for David Grant to achieve what was previously thought to impossible: the ability to hop dimensions at will. Since the end of the war and his mind blowing foray into the universe that housed another curse breaker, the twenty five year old not only joined the Department of Mysteries part time in addition to being reinstated as an Auror but began exploring the power of the veil for more timelines.

It was partially due to self interest, which his boss Croaker didn’t need to know about. Happy to further the Department’s investigations of the unknown magical branches, the experience of visiting another world had touched him so deeply David resolved to do more investigating: specifically if there were any other scenarios involving Ethren Whitecross in which he did not die. Despite technically never meeting the American, he already felt a sense of kinship with him, a kind of surreal connection one couldn’t explain in so many words.

He deserved better...so much better

Many months passed, but at last David was able to tinker with the magical properties of the veil so that it revealed a wondrous discovery: the cosmos was damn well infinite. Billions of people making billions of choices creating infinite earths. And it didn’t take long for him to discover a timeline in which Ethren was still alive and in Hogwarts.

“Hang on, mate. I’m coming,” he said as he stepped through, making sure his protections were sufficient to protect him from the other realm the veil lead to: death.

Of course, David had never actually met Ethren for obvious reasons and so had no idea what to expect from him. The only aspects of his life he knew for certain were that he was American, died in the war, engaged in a relationship with Merula and unknowingly had a son in the process. The other timeline’s Merula had given him more grisly details, but nothing so specific as to his personality, likes, dislikes, or anything else.

As it turned out, much to his chagrin, Ethren Whitecross was a bit sour to say the least.

He was short for a male, only 5’6 but with intense, clear blue eyes to go along with caramel brown hair and conventionally attractive features. He wasn’t terribly athletic but could swing a beater’s bat well enough. Similar to himself however, Ethren was a top notch dueler and excelled in the subjects he genuinely enjoyed, but struggling in those he did not care for. However, his less than sunny disposition was certainly off putting and it didn’t take long to figure out why.

��So let me get this straight,” Ethren said skeptically as they lay on the shores of the lake at Hogwarts. “You’re from another universe where my family never existed and in my universe your family never existed. Like me, you’re an amateur cursebreaker, date Merula, and apparently need to warn me about my impending death? Do I have everything correctly?”

“Uh, yeah that pretty much sums it up,” came the response.

Unfortunately for David, he had stumbled into a timeline where Ethren was completing his 7th year at Hogwarts as opposed to being a full grown adult. But it was just as well, finding Ethren was easy given his reputation. Getting him to believe his story was quite another debacle altogether.

“Well, guess what, you’re a bit too late. I already know I’m dying from my blood malediction and that R still wants to kill me. By the way, thank you so much for bringing up such a painful subject. A paper cut with lemon juice would have sufficed.”

He got up to leave but David moved to stop him.

“Wait, wait, hear me out. I can explain everything in a bit more detail.”

“Or I could go back to the library and read.”

David scoffed.

“More like you would brood all day.”

Ethren flushed from indignation.

“And how would you know that?”

“Believe me, I know enough...look I’m just trying to help.”

“My cranky on and off girlfriend is a bigger help than you’re being right now and that’s saying something.”

David took a breath of the evening Scotland air and breathed out. He should have known it wouldn’t be this easy, but that last statement left an uneasy sensation in his stomach. He remembered vividly a drunken twenty six year old Merula wanted by the law while drowning herself in vodka tonics and narcissistic self loathing. He was beginning to see just how much of an emotional toll she was taking on the poor lad. So he decided to switch gears.

“Look, I have an idea. Classes are done for the day right, you’re a legal wizarding adult...come hang out with me for a couple hours.”

“I can’t leave Hogwarts,” Ethren shot back.

“Right, since when did Dumbledore’s rules ever stop us from leaving whenever we wanted?”

“Point taken but still no.”

“By God, Would it really be a crime to let yourself have fun once in a while?” David half laughed in amazement. “Trust me, let’s go have a good time and I’ll explain everything afterwards, alright?”

He didn’t think it would work given the clear suspicion still lurking in those blue eyes but to his surprise, Ethren relented and nodded.

“Fine.”

“You can apparate right?”

“Yes and I can also blow you to smithereens if you try anything funny.”

“You know part of me does want to know what would happen if we ever dueled,” David grinned. “However, I went through a war mate. Got a bit of a head start on ya.”

“Fantastic.”

“And here I thought we Brits were the uptight and sarcastic ones. Aren’t Yanks supposed to be expressive?”

Ethren simply snorted and walked past him into the open field.

“Be thankful I’m saying anything at all.”

The two young men walked until they reached the boundaries of the school just beyond the entrance, David leading the way.

“Follow my lead,” he said. “Unless you can’t keep up,” he added teasingly.

“Just go,” came the grumpy response.

Bollocks, this is going to be harder than I thought David mused to himself with exasperation

And with a loud *pop they apparated into the sunset.

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

It didn’t take long for the two to land in random cobblestone street with Ethren keeling over, grimacing severely.

“Yeah I hate apparation too,” David said, pulling out a flask and taking a sip. “You get used to it.”

“I only recently passed.”

“Fair. Which is why where I’m taking you next will simultaneously relieve that discomfort and get you to loosen up.”

Ethren looked up and saw a wooden sign in maroon lettering which read the words ‘The Mayfair.’

“A bar?”

“Never underestimate the value of a pub,” David told him sagely. And before the younger lad could object he pushed him inside the door.

Inside was a setting not altogether spectacular. There was a small dining area, a large bar that spanned about fifty feet with two bulky TVs that currently were playing the latest football matches. However there was also a small staging area that contained a microphone with another TV sitting overhead. A sizable crowd graced its floors- a hodgepodge of young professionals, crusty regulars, football fans, and those who were just looking for a good time. Which was precisely why they were there.

In his time after Hogwarts and during the war David found that muggle bars offered a lot more in terms of entertainment and alcohol: a primary factor in why he chose a casual London pub as opposed to a place like the Leaky Cauldron. Muggles also tended to write better music which was also key to this night.

“It’s a good thing we aren’t in robes,” Ethren said above the general chatter of the pub.

“I made sure your classes were over before we came here,” David replied. His own dress was unremarkable: brown leather boots, jeans, jacket, and a Guns N’ Roses t-shirt (they were the most popular band in the world in the late eighties/early nineties after all). They fit right in.

David dragged Ethren over to the counter and caught the attention of the barkeep, knowing full well that in England you never got carded for ID as they did in America.

“Two Guinnesses please.”

“You got it.”

He flipped a couple of pounds and soon enough was presented with two full tankards of the dark stout.

“Cheers, mate,” David told him, clinking his glass with Ethren’s.

The twenty five year old relished the taste but clearly his counterpart did not, grimacing as though he had swallowed stinksap.

“Dear God that’s awful. Why do you drink this stuff?”

“Keep sipping and you’ll find out,” came the cheeky reply.

Ethren merely shrugged and did his best to keep drinking. David peered around and saw the exact person he wanted to see: the DJ.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

For his part, Ethren Whitecross was highly confused by this whole affair. He still wasn’t sure he believed that this person, whoever they were, was supposedly a dimension traveler who’d apparently met another version of himself by accident. It was just too insane to believe. And yet somehow he knew details about his life that no one else popping up like that could know.

And now he wants to just drink our night away at a bar? What is this guy about?

Indeed, that appeared to be the most intriguing aspect of this. David Grant apparently not only came back to warn him but to spend time together as if they were old friends. Ethren wasn’t sure how he felt about that just yet given that R was still after him however this fellow didn’t appear to be unseemly...yet anyway. For now, he decided to keep drinking the beer, which oddly enough began to make him feel a bit warm and fuzzy in the head.

Soon enough David returned a big grin on his face.

“Finish that up soon. We’re on next.”

“Next for what?” Ethren asked, utterly nonplussed.

“My friend you are about to experience the wonders of karaoke.”

“Kara-what?”

David laughed, deep and true then drained his beer in one gulp.

“You’re about to find out.”

Ethren found himself dragged away to the staging area where they were handed two microphones and a pair of spotlights shone down on them.

“Should have asked this beforehand but how familiar are you with muggle music?”

“Umm not very?” came the unenthusiastic answer.

“Do you know ‘Piano Man’ by Billy Joel?”

Ethren nodded. His father kept a collection of old muggle records at home and that was a song played quite frequently sometimes to his chagrin.

“Yeah, I know that one.”

“Smashing. We’ll be just fine.”

The crowd started to cheer as the opening piano chords began to play. Ethren squirmed uncomfortably but David put a strong hand around his shoulder and began to sing in earnest. There was no backing out now.

“It’s nine o’clock on a Saturday

The regular crowd shuffles in

There’s an old man sitting next to me

Making love to his tonic and gin”

Ethren had to admit that this stranger sang well, but he wasn’t so much of a musician himself. But he had no choice as the microphone was pressed into his face.

“He said son can you play me a melody

I’m not really sure how it goes

But it’s sad and it’s sweet and I knew it complete

When I wore a younger man’s clothes”

The young Gryffindor understood better why the beer was necessary. One drink already had him buzzing but it sure loosened inhibitions. Slowly he began to enjoy himself as he belted the chorus alongside David.

“Sing us the the song, you’re the piano man

Sing us the song, tonight

Well we’re all in the mood for a melody

And you got us feeling alright”

To Ethren’s amazement the crowd began cheering despite the fact his pitch was probably way off. Apparently it didn't matter how good or bad you were at actualling singing, enthusiasm for the song and the camaraderie of the patrons was enough to send everyone into a frenzy. Feeding off that energy, the two young men sang into the Scotland night, following the lyrics with gusto.

“Sing us the song, you’re the piano man

Sing us the song, tonight

Well we’re all in the mood for a melody

And you got us feeling alright”

The last of the harmonica sounded off into the exit riff of the piano and the song was over. Ethren could hardly believe it ended so fast, but the cheers of the crowd were practically deafening. Indeed the feeling was so exhilarating, he almost didn’t notice the shadowed face of his counterpart, lines of worry practically melting off his face.

Perhaps he wasn’t the only cursebreaker that had problems.

Afterwards, the two sat down and drank a few more beers, which were on the house due to their riveting performance. Several regulars gave them cheers and pats on the back. The two chatted about a number of things, but it wasn’t until they stepped outside for a breath of fresh air that the conversation turned honest and even somber.

David lit a cigarette and took a long inhale before issuing smoke.

“Told ya I knew how to have fun.”

“Maybe I wasn’t the only one in need of it,” Ethren observed astutely.

The older man shrugged but tried to play it cool.

“I’ve been through…a lot,” he said simply. “Moments like the one in the bar are the kind that kept me going over the years. It’s what makes life so wonderful even when it’s not.”

Ethren paused before asking.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty five to be exact. Twenty six in four months.”

“You look five years beyond that.”

It was blunt but David knew by now Ethren didn’t pull punches. He could relate to that. Neither did he.

“I didn’t come back merely to warn you about your malediction, Ethren,” he said quietly. “You beat that.”

“So...I die another way?”

David swallowed, feeling a lump pop up in his throat. Now was not the time to get super emotional. He needed to tell the truth.

“You have a relationship with Merula just as I do, yeah?”

“I do. Though I can’t say it’s always a happy one. We either bicker or just end up making out half the time.”

The older man chuckled sardonically, knowing full well what his wife was like when she was sixteen.

“Sounds about right. Believe me, I know how she is sometimes.”

“You’re at least eight years older than I am right now….what happened with you and her?”

David knew this was the moment he came back for. The essence of his visit.

“We married after Hogwarts. During the war, she was kidnapped by her parents and placed under the imperius curse. I was able to free her during the Battle of Hogwarts.”

Ethren’s eyes were practically popping out of their sockets.

“Wait, wait back up. There’s a war? Merula becomes a Death Eater?”

“Let me explain,” David said, raising his hands in the air whilst also flicking his cigarette. “Yes, You Know Who will return in four years time and begin a new war against the Ministry. And no, my wife did not become a Death Eater. She was shanghaied against her will. At that point in her life, she wanted nothing to do with her parents. Can you say the same for yours?”

Ethren’s head was practically spinning at this newfound revelation. He felt a desperate need to sit down but remained standing, running a hand through his caramel locks.

“She...she would never.”

“If you believe that, you’re wrong. If Merula doesn’t break off her toxic relationship with her parents, she’ll go right back to them once they’re freed from Azkaban.”

Denial morphed into pain as the younger man shook his head.

“Why...why would she do that?”

“You know as well as I do how badly she wants their approval and how it affects her judgement. My Merula made the right choice, but I also helped her to see what kind of path she was heading in. You must do the same.”

“And what happens if I don’t?”

In a reversal of moods, David’s hazel blue eyes bore into Ethren’s crystal blue ones, hardening with each passing second, though there was still tremendous sympathy.

“I will not lie, however the answer will be difficult for you to hear. You will each find yourself on the opposite side of the coming conflict and Merula will realize her error far too late. In the end, you will sacrifice your life for hers during a great battle. And as a result, a son will never know his father.”

Tears were forming into Ethren’s eyes and David was trying his best not to do the same though it was becoming increasingly difficult.

“W-what...what should I do?”

“Guide her,” David responded softly. “Show her that there is a better way to happiness than simply attaining power. Help her to see that she can trust people unconditionally and that those people are not her parents….especially her mother,” he added with a heavy hint of disgust.

“I don’t know if I can,” the teenage Gryffindor said, his voice still wavering. “She won’t listen to me. She never has.”

“She will. I guarantee it.”

David stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Ethren, embracing him in a hug while silent tears fell from his eyes.

“You can do it, Ethren. I’ve seen war, I’ve seen death, and I’ve seen a world where a family was ended before it began. Trust me when I say this, you and Merula Snyde are meant for each other for better or worse. And if I can do my part to ensure you end up happy instead of six feet under, I damn well won’t hesitate.”

They broke apart with both men wiping their eyes.

“Bloody alcohol,” David joked.

“I think I’ll hold off on any more beers.”

The older man placed a hand on Ethren’s shoulder though this time he did not hug him but instead gave a final guiding message.

“I made a promise to thank you for what you did for my wife and to honor your memory. This way, I can do both. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Now go break your malediction, defeat R, and live the life you deserve.”

Ethren nodded, finally gaining back control of his emotions but also feeling a deeper sense of purpose as well as gratitude to this stranger.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” he said somewhat lamely, cursing his lack of ability to express his feelings properly.

“You’ll never have to,” David responded kindly. “Consider it a favor from one friend to another.”

He released Ethren’s shoulder and nodded with a smile.

“Now let’s get you back to Hogwarts. If memory serves, I believe curfew should be soon. Don’t want Snape catching you out of bed.”

Ethren gave a smile of his own.

“Since when has Dumbledore’s rules stopped us?”

David laughed one more time before they disapparated with a small *pop.

“Never.”

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

Merula Snyde did not like feeling guilty. It was a useless emotion better left for fools who believed in sentimentality and other such nonsense. But when it came to one special boy, her heart could not help serve as a constant reminder of how much she mistreated him. Such as their fight from earlier that morning.

Working late into the night in the library, the ambitious Slytherin had poured through book after book and page after page in order to see if there was anything about maledictions they hadn’t already discovered or knew about thus far. In a sense, it was her attachment to Whitecross and their past experiences together that drove her to do as she did. There was no need to say that you cared, that’s what saving him from his blood curse was for. Even so, the young Slytherin couldn’t avoid the guilt or her memories.

“Why do you do this?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Whitecross. Spit it out.”

The Gryffindor clenched his fists but then let out a sigh and then unclenched them as they stood outside in the corridor near Charms.

“You claim you’re on my side but not once do you ever take responsibility for your own shortcomings. Nothing is ever your fault or a bad idea. Is it your job in life to torture me?”

Merula snorted as she dismissed him yet again.

“You torture yourself enough all on your own. If there was a shred of common sense in that empty head of yours, you’d acknowledge that you don’t have the bollocks to take out R same as it was with Rakepick. I’m not going to apologize for speaking the truth.”

Ethren usually swept aside her barbs no problem but this one appeared to hit home in a way her usual ones did not. He took her hand in his.

“Merula, I don’t know that I can call you my girlfriend anymore...I’m not sure what we are. But...those feelings we have won’t just go away. Why can’t you just at least pretend you care about me?”

But his appeal to her better senses fell flat as she withdrew her hand and gave a hard stare with her vivid, violet eyes.

“If you want a hug, Whitecross go to Haywood. Don’t waste my time.”

And without another word, she spun around in her combat boots and walked off not bothering to see the pained reaction on his face.

Merula clenched her jaw as the remorse became almost overwhelming. Why? Why was she like this? It wouldn’t kill her to throw the poor blighter a bone now and then, right?

“What’s wrong with me?” she whispered aloud.

A second voice entered her mind, one that was hauntingly familiar.

You should know better. There are no such things as happy endings. The only person anyone can rely on is themselves….

The voice became disturbingly soothing.

You’re special my little blackbird. I will always love you

Merula resisted the urge to cry as she planted her face on one of the many books layed out in front of her. She did not care if Madam Pince yelled at her for staying too late. Wallowing within her inner demons outweighed any potential punishment.

“I never realized the true depth of your self loathing narcissism until much later in life,” spoke a voice. It frightened her so much, that she jumped at least a foot in the air and wheeled around, wand in hand.

Standing by the window of the library was a young man, light beard, longish brown hair, tall, wearing a Guns N’ Roses t-shirt, brown boots, and a dark cloak. He wore his hoodie up and so could not see the face clearly. Nevertheless, she kept her wand trained on him.

“Who are you and what do you want? I promise I’m the last witch you want to mess with,” she snarled.

“My identity is inconsequential. As for what I want, I only wish to impart a gift.”

Merula did not believe a word of what this stranger said and had half a mind to hex him if it wasn’t for the fact that damaging the library in such a manner was a bannable offense.

“Whatever the intentions, you picked a really bad spot. Don’t you know where you are? Madam Pince will disembowel anyone who mucks about in here...of course she won’t have the honor of doing so before I do.”

A condescending chuckle emanated from underneath the hood.

“I have a silencing charm and a protective ward around this area. We won’t be interrupted I assure you. In any case, what I have planned isn’t going to take long.”

The teenage Slytherin silently checked the magical energies around her and realized he was right. Those kinds of wards were only the kind powerful Aurors knew or worse. All of a sudden, real fear entered Merula’s bones though she did her best to hide it.

“W-What are you going to do? What is this?”

The figure did not move, only uttering a single sentence.

“The day you finally understand.”

He was too quick for her to react properly, so fast was the draw of his wand. There was an incantation she didn’t recognize and a jet of white light that struck her in the forehead.

A swarm of images flashed through Merula’s mind and she was forced to witness every single one of them: two teenagers triumphing over an evil organization, an emotional breakup, darkness arising in the British wizarding world, an escape from Azkaban, a young woman kneeling before the Dark Lord, a night of raw passion, the birth of a child, and finally the scene of a young man with an arrow lodged in his chest, a despondent woman in Death Eater robes sobbing over the lifeless body.

‘Ethren! Ethren! ETHREN! PLEASE! DON’T GO!!!’

Then just as quickly as they came the images were gone and so was the unknown figure. Only a reeling and emotionally fragile young woman who had only one thought on her mind.

“Ethren,” she breathed out.

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

The young Gryffindor teen was slightly annoyed as Jae told him someone was waiting outside the tower for him. Who on earth was so desperate to talk to him this late at night? Did they not have the password or some other such nonsense? He wasn’t in the mood for a prank.

As he stepped past the portrait of the Fat Lady, however, his questions were answered right away as a mess of brown hair with an orange tuft slammed into him.

“What the- Merula?”

“Ethren,” she whispered as she clung to him for dear life. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

Utterly shocked, Ethren separated himself ever so slightly, still holding her in arms and looked into beautiful, violet eyes; eyes that were swimming with tears.

“Sorry? For what?”

“For everything...I didn’t realize...I didn’t know…”

Words failed her as she pressed her lips against his. Ethren didn’t hold back, returning the passionate kiss, long and deep. Fireworks were exploding in his mind.

When they broke apart, he saw she was still crying but there was also the same determination that sparkled in the orbs he’d come to love for better or worse.

“Things are going to be different from now on...I promise. I love you,” she said.

Ethren traced a finger along her soft, porcelain cheek, taking in the small freckles that dotted her adorable nose. He’d never felt so amazing, so enamored with the girl in front of him.

“I love you, too.”

As they embraced once more, Ethren Whitecross couldn’t help but think of the man who’d changed his life in one fell swoop. The one who’d gotten him to simultaneously sing karaoke and drink Guinness on the most memorable night of his young life. He smiled as he took in the scent of cloves, nail polish...and something elusive.

Thank you, David Grant

[ultralaser]

i'm just gonna go ahead and spoil the fuck out of hellboy 2019 bc it's awful and i can't think of a good reason not to

thomas haden church shows up as lobster johnson! but he looks ridiculous, like, a cheap halloween costume version compared to, say, the period costumes in captain america or wonder woman. and he has NO SET UP so he just comes off like a joke, it's not, oh this is a wierd noir pulp hero in **gotham city**, it's, lobster johnson, nazi hunter. is hellboy a world with cool superheroes, and if so, why isn't hellboy one of them? is he an x men now? idk it doesnt work tho

baba yaga shows up! she has a house on chicken legs that's rendered beautifully, but then she has one of the worst face prosthetics i've ever seen, it literally looks like a cheap monster mask from party city. so much for the grace and elegant spookiness of a doug jones suit, this baba yaga mask can't even lip sync well

guy davis kaiju demons show up! but they aren't, cool, they're just, they have as much screen time as the ogdru jahad in hellboy 04, but they show up and start just gruesomly killing ppl, like same with thr giants fight earlier on, the movie uses the r rating to push a lot of just dismemberment, disembowelment, graphic bodily harm, it's gross and mean and dumb and out of character for the comics. therr's the helicopter shot of the tall man walking through the tower bridge, then two bat demons fky up in front of him and tear someone in half and all their guts fall out. what? why

king arthur and merlin show up! merlin is, christian for some reason? and king arthur is boring. this sequence is nearly saved by ian mcshane's narratiom, but not really. witches bad, she created a plague but not, the plague? england is the most important place in history, blah blah, no. king arthur legend of the sword does more with excalibur as a magic artifact, and drunk merlin from transformers the last knight is way more compelling than Christian Merlin, warrior for god

they do the quick ww2 origin flashback, ala thomas and martha wayne, joe chill, pearls. kroenen is there and looks bad, ilsa looks fine, rasputin, tbh feels like they got the same actor who did a poor job in 04, he's generic in a boring way, the whole scene is unnecessary

okay, so, then halfway! through, after hellboy has been sent to england to help the rebel general from rogue one, and they name their perennial giant hunt 'the wild hunt', and they all betray hellboy and stab him with a bunch of spears, and are killed brutally by giants, and then hellboy brutally kills the giants, and is rescued by new girl, who talks to ghosts and was rescued by hellboy from being replaced by a fairy changeling (who is back, running around putting milla back together after king arthur dismembered her and locked her still-living pieces in boxes around england?), and hellboy both knows her from all along but also hasnt been back since, and knows shes a psychic but also hasnt seen her since she was a baby, depending on the scene?

THEN finally daniel dae kim's ben daimio shows up, and he's NOT EVEN IN THE BPRD, he's with british intelligence, and he takes hank's anti-mutation polyjuice serum from days of future past to repress his were-jaguar form, and he has a special gun designed to KILL HELLBOY because he doesnt trust him not to be the actual devil, despite, HIMSELF, being cursed with a monstrous destiny

the scene in the trailer with hellboy, new girl, and daimio on a bprd mission, with hellboy punching daimio to activate his hulking out? THAT'S IN THE **SIX MONTHS LATER** EPILOGUE. the movie ENDS with the three of them finding abe sapien

so this whole thing? is a fucking ORIGIN STORY. it is EVERY SUPERHERO MOVIE FROM 78 TO IRON MAN TWO, it is ONE HERO, ALONE, IN A WORLD WITH NO OTHER HEROES. it's not even the x-men because they're not recruiting hellboy to join their team, it's like if the x-men were just xavier and logan and a nunch of fbi guys.

meanwhile, ddk and new girl are both americans doing british accents, david harbour is still playing hellboy as a 75 year old teenager, and ian mcshane, bless him, is just playing ian mcshane

also, just, i think the intent was for harbour to play it as the stone right hand is just really heavy? but it ends up looking like a cosplayer who misjudged the weight of his prop hand an hour into the con. i want to say del toro did a better job of making it look like, this is actually hellboy's hand, and not, this is ron perlman wearing a wierd prosthetic.

and also, amazing advances in prosthetic technology aside, why didnt they just get dave bautista, if they wanted surly hellboy, or dwayne johnson, if they wanted comic accurate charming hellboy, because neither of those dudes would have needed a muscle suit. hellboy ends up (AGAIN) looking like one of the fucking dwarves in the hobbit, who wore fat suits to look like they were built like john rhys davies, but if they turn their head wrong you can see their prosthetics floating like trump's wig

have the balls to give him his wierd jawline from the comic, or don't fucking bother

okay, okay. OKAY. so, you guys remember the BLOOD TORNADO from blade one, the 'original ending' on the dvd where frost turns into a whirling vortex of blood, and they superimpose the dorff's torso just kind of leaning out of it? and it looked awful both because it's super fake anyways but also unfinished? so, there is an EXTENDED scene where professor mcshane comes back as a ghost, and it's ian mcshane's head pasted onto a super fake ectoplasm tail coming out of new girl's mouth (which also, gross), and they forgot to give him a neck, and he's naked? and it's awful and only not laughable bc, frankly, ian mcshane is a treasure and spends the whole moving swearing a lot

and honestly, the most annoying part is that hellboy 19 cribs the ending from hellboy 04 where hellboy is about to give in to his cursed destiny and join team evil, until some white dude says 'no, stop, you have a choice thanks to your father'

hellboy popped into our plane in 1944 and it is 2019, dude is SEVENTY FIVE YEARS OLD. he is smarter than this shit, or at least, old enough to know better. i'm half his age and i can tell when someone is not negotiating in good faith.

and at least in 04 he was doing it to save liz, in the new movie witch milla ALREADY KILLED IAN MCSHANE and it still takes ghost mcshane to cuss hellboy out back to team good, talking him into using EXCALIBUR to rekill her instead of, destroying the world

and do they reconcile that EXCALIBUR was the key to the hellmouth, that hellboy pulling the sword from the stone started the biblical apocalypse? that england is the villain here? no, they joke that now hellboy is king.

OMG and i forgot merlin shows up again to tell hellboy HE IS LITERALLY DESCENDED FROM KING ARTHUR. his human witch mother fucked satan in the 1600s and gave birth to hellboy in hell, and then four hundred years later rasputin and the nazis summon him to earth as he's still a baby. does this make sense? no. is it comics canon. idk, who cares, it's BAD.

this movie is B A D in almost every way, it is amazing how bad it is. it is clearly a 'gritty' remake of the 2004 film, not in any way a new take on the comics. there are FIFTEEN YEARS of new bprd comics put out since that film for these guys to riff on, and they are still fundamentally misrepresenting beloved characters while also just, making up new bullshit.

but when del toro did that, it was del toro's cool bullshit. this is hellboy from the guys who said 'lets have jaime rape cersei on joffrey's tomb'

[allyinthekeyofx]

Small Considerations Between Partners - 1

Small considerations between partners AllyinthekeyofX

Summary:

A series of vignettes that feature moments of friendship and love between our two favourite agents. One for each season and also both movies with some being more along mature lines. All will be canon compliant, a couple will be post episode. Chapter 1: Chocolate drops do not constitute medicine - Season one

I can feel Mulder watching me from across the room.

I hate it when he watches me like this; it makes me feel uncomfortable to know he is filling his working hours scrutinising me instead of concentrating on the job in hand and God knows he must surely be aware that they are just looking for a reason to shut us down. Working but not working isn’t exactly going to further his cause should we be called to question as to why the reports requested by Skinner and which litter his chaotic workspace are being largely ignored by him right now.

But today I’m aware that really, I only have myself to blame because when I woke up this morning with a pounding headache, limbs that alternated between a dragging heaviness and a nauseating ache that settled right in the marrow of my bones and a throat that felt like someone had miniaturised themselves to an extent that they were able to climb in there at some point during the night and do a sandblasting job with powdered glass, I probably should have just admitted defeat and called in sick.

I didn’t of course because being sick constitutes being weak and Dana Scully does not show weakness. No Siree. So I just self-medicated; hoping for the best as I forced myself in to the shower where I stood limply, hoping the heat of the water would in some small way chase away the chills that were racing up and down my back at fairly regular intervals.

I kind of knew this was coming – a rare day out this past weekend in the sole company of my small Godson had seemed like a precious gift at the time – but as the day wore on the gift became less enjoyable as his six year old self escalated in crankiness at roughly the same rate as his temperature had risen and by the time Ellen arrived to pick him up, Trent was clinging to me like a four-limbed limpet; heat radiating off him as he coated my shoulder in a not inconsiderable layer of snot and drool and I was already steeling myself for the inevitable.

Because I’ve noticed during the course of the months I have been working alongside Mulder that I seem to pick up every bug going. Maybe it’s the fact that we spend relatively long periods just with each other that makes me an easy target when I finally venture out in to the germ ridden world above or it’s simply that I don’t take such meticulous care of myself as I did in my pre-Mulder existence; that having him as a partner pretty much negates adequate sleep and regular wholesome meals.

Annoyingly though, Mulder seems to positively thrive on the disjointed lifestyle that working on the X-Files demands; able to function at the top of his game on scant rest and a diet of greasy take-out food.

Because he is never sick.

Ever.

You would be forgiven for thinking that, as is often the case with irritatingly healthy individuals, that he has no patience with illness in others and certainly my Father had enjoyed years of rude good health before the coronary unexpectedly and cruelly took him from us just a few short months ago; and back when we were kids only impending death or a temperature close to combustible levels were sufficient for us to be tucked in to bed and fed chicken soup. If neither applied we were just expected to suck it up.

But Mulder? Mulder is different. Maybe it’s due to his fine New England upbringing or maybe it’s simply due to the fact that he hasn’t had anyone to be concerned about for a very long time but I have noticed, even from right at the very beginning when he clearly didn’t trust me and resented my reasons for me being thrust in to his domain, that he has always been extremely sensitive regarding my continued wellbeing.

In fact, “Are you okay Scully?” has been levelled at me so many times that I now find myself always automatically assuring him that I’m fine even when I’m not and it’s not that I want to hurt his feelings, nor that I am immune to his concern, but frankly I am a grown woman and more than capable of taking care of myself.

Well, except on days like today of course where a wholly misplaced pride prevented me from listening to the little voice inside my head that told me the smart thing to do would be to simply turn up the heat in my apartment to tropical and crawl back to bed where I could quietly wallow in a pit of misery until such time as my body deigned fit to fight off the virus that had invaded it courtesy of Trent.

But I hadn’t. I had instead dragged myself to work and tried to hide from my partner that in reality, I felt pretty much like death warmed over and I should have known better than to try to fool a man who can strip me inside out with a single glance. Hiding things from Mulder is like trying to knit with the wind – a lot of effort with nothing to show for it at the end. And right now as I feel his eyes boring in to me, I know that he is building himself up in order to address his concerns.

His words though, when they finally come, are as far away from what I was expecting as they could possibly be.

“Chocolate drops Scully.”

I jerk my head up and wonder suddenly if my slight fever is actually worse than I had thought and is in fact, giving way to auditory hallucinations.

I glance across at where he is lounging back in his chair, relieved in part to find he is looking straight at me.

“Chocolate drops Mulder?”

“Yep. Best medicine there is for sore throats.”

“Mulder I haven’t got a sore….”

He holds his hand up and like Pavlov’s dog I immediately stop, recognising the futility of denial where this man is concerned.

“Scully I know you’re sick. From the minute you walked in this morning it was obvious; you look like hell and every time you swallow you pull this face…”

He grimaces and closes his eyes briefly in a pretty accurate representation of a baby sucking on a lemon then grins apologetically at me. Clearly my attempts to appear normal have been less than successful but I decide to let it go in order to address the bigger issue.

“Chocolate drops do not in any way constitute medicine Mulder.” I assert with all the dignity I can muster.

He shrugs, still grinning.

“Suit yourself Doctor Scully but it’s the truth. My Mom used to give us chocolate when we had sore throats. Forms a coating or some such thing and I’m no medical doctor but….whatever it did it worked.”

I immediately bristle on the slightly teasing inflection given to his use of the word Doctor, because despite the way he is looking at me, eyes soft with concern, a slight frown worrying his brow, I am in no mood to play games with him.

“Placebo effect Mulder” I snap

He nods sagely

“If you say so.”

“And besides” I continue. “I’m fine. It’s just a cold and even if it were more serious I have a whole host of tried and tested remedies sitting in my bathroom cabinet to fall back on. Chocolate drops I might add are not amongst them.”

I probably shouldn’t have told him I was fine because for Mulder, me denying what he has already convinced himself of just makes him more determined to be proven right; whether it be seeking validation regarding the existence of life on other worlds, weird paranormal mumbo-jumbo or missing time phenomena, Mulder believes what he believes and he rigidly stands by those beliefs; directing the same unwavering certainty when making assertions as to my state of health and while on some level I admire him for it, today I just find it invasive and mildly annoying.

I’m unsurprised though when he pushes himself to his feet in one graceful fluid movement and crosses the small space that separates us, standing before me and rendering me immediately at a strategic disadvantage by his looming presence over me. I probably should feel slightly unnerved by his close proximity, not least because my eyes are now at roughly the same level as his crotch, and try as I might I can’t seem to make myself avert my gaze. Thankfully though, Mulder drops down to rest on his haunches and places his palm gently against my forehead and his touch is so deliciously cool that I make no attempt to pull away from him.

“Christ Scully you’re burning up. You should be at home in bed.”

My shoulders slump slightly because deep down I know he’s right but at the same time I’m annoyed that he feels such a need to state the obvious all the time.

“It’s not that bad Mulder.”

Maybe he hears the slight warning tone in my voice that he needs to back off right now, because he removes his hand and checks his watch.

“Look, it’s almost four-thirty. I’ve got a couple of errands to run first but why don’t you stay here and finish up and then I’ll run you home? Is your car here?”

I shake my head, less annoyed than I was a few seconds ago because it seems that, today at least he is prepared to offer a compromise.

“No I didn’t feel like driving so I caught a cab.”

“Okay then good. I’ll be forty-five minutes; maybe an hour and then we’ll call it a day, and Scully? Try not to die on me while I’m gone; the paperwork would be a bitch.” Despite myself I can’t help a smile that tugs at my lips and he nods, clearly satisfied as he grabs his coat and exits the office.

XXXXXXXXXXX

As good as his word Mulder drove me home and despite myself I was grateful that I was with him and not some faceless stranger in an unfamiliar vehicle as he negotiated his way through rush hour traffic, glancing across at me every now and again but not passing further comment as to my state of health; he merely cranked up the heat in the car and found a radio station that helped to create an atmosphere of such relaxation that I was asleep within minutes.

I have hazy recollections of him waking me up with a light touch to my face as he smoothed a few errant strands of hair from where it had stuck to the corner of my mouth and I was pleasantly surprised when, seeing me start to shiver once I was out of the warm cocoon he had created in the car, he put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me against him, sharing his warmth with me against the frigid winter air as he walked me to my apartment.

He had, with an impish smile that made him look like a little boy, offered his help to get me undressed and in to bed but I had refused, shaking my head as I brushed off his playful banter lightly, even as a small part of me wondered what would happen if I decided to accept his offer. I suspect though he would have turned tail and exited as fast as his long legs could carry him. Mulder I have discovered seems to be all talk.

As it was though, he waited until he was sure I was all tucked up in my warmest flannel pyjamas and fluffy robe, staying in the apartment on the pretext of needing a coffee before he drove home; I didn’t hear him leave though because I was asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow and I think I may have been dreaming when I felt the heat of his lips press gently and briefly to the centre of my forehead, imagining the sound of his voice murmuring above me.

“Sweet dreams Scully.”

When I awoke hours later there was a glass of water and a couple of pills on my bedside table along with a small, beautifully wrapped square box. It was about the size of a baseball I guess and I couldn’t imagine what he might have bought for me; or why for that matter.

But now, as I hold the opened package in my hands I can’t help but smile at both the contents and the message of the small tag that I carefully removed from its ribbon tie.

‘One to be taken as required’

And as I feel the rich dark chocolate melting on my tongue and coating my throat with smooth mellow sweetness I decide he might actually be right about this whole medicinal chocolate thing.

Maybe I will call him later and tell him so.

Maybe.

End