#he better still become a cowboy if they used him in a similar way that they do in the original | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

delopsia · 2 years ago

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Flowers In November (2/4) Rhett x Reader

Word Count: 9,780 ♡‧₊˚ AO3 Cross-Post ♡⊹˚₊ Flowers In November Masterlist₊˚⊹♡ Warnings: Fem!Reader. Briefly mentioned abusive relationships (not involving reader), improper disposal of a horse's corpse, l-bombs, oral sex, physical and verbal altercations, blood, unprotected sex, inappropriate use of a firearm, lying to a police officer, multiple mentions of food and cooking.

Part 1 ♡⊹˚₊ Part 3

The first week is the worst.

You spend a lot of it on Rhett's couch. Trying and failing to run from the overwhelming heaviness that's settled deep into your muscles, reaching deep into your bones, seemingly filling them with cement. There's something so draining about realizations. It just doesn't...make sense.

Rhett doesn't complain about your dead weight around the house, even though he has every right to be annoyed with a stranger lazing about his home. A part of you suspects that he enjoys the company. He seems to get a lot of enjoyment out of laying on the couch opposite you, just talking about whatever is on your mind.

Your likes, your dislikes, hobbies. You learn that he used to eat fried eggs with his hashbrowns religiously. That his momma became so attached to their pigs that they're not allowed to eat real bacon anymore. You're pretty sure you'd be the same way if you befriended a livestock animal.

Old memories, both the sweet and the bitter ones. Recounting old tales of adventures and comparing your worlds, eager to spot the differences between the two. Little by little, it sets in how wonderfully similar and different this world is. Rhett's town is nearly identical to yours. Same layout and the same buildings. Different shop and street names.

It's not home, but it's a familiar face.

"You can't be serious," Rhett squawks, his empty beer can hitting the table, "you grew up on what street?"

You have to hold up a finger, asking him to wait as you chew this bite of cookie. Rhett's momma, who you now know as Cecelia, sent them over yesterday, and they're so chewy that you need a moment. "Cold River road."

"What the hell?" Shaking his head, "it was Warm Creek road for me."

It's hard to believe that this is your reality now. A tweaked version of your past one, whether that be for better or for worse. The mom-and-pop shop you planned to work at doesn't exist here, but in its place is this beautiful cafe that sells baked goods and coffee. Rhett takes you in there one day after a successful grocery run.

"You know," you find yourself saying as you tuck yourselves into a corner booth with your drinks, "I never pinned you as a french vanilla kind of guy."

Rhett rolls his eyes so dramatically that you hope they become lodges in the back of his head, "what were you expecting, plain black?"

Humming, you feign thought, as if you're putting everything you've got into this conversation, "I was thinking mocha."

He finds a way to bug you in return by tearing off a piece of your pastry when you're not looking. He's not sorry, and you can't find it in yourself to be mad because he smiles so big that his eyes crinkle and disappear with it. Happy little crescents.

With a pantry and fridge full of proper food and ingredients, you do the only thing you can do on a ranch like this. You cook.

Cecelia offers you cookbooks galore, regional cuisines, and desserts. Anything you can think of, she has. There's even a book on mixing drinks in there. It's not your ideal lifestyle, cooking all day, but it's either this or you break your back working with Rhett, and you know you don't have the energy to work like him.

Your first attempt is a disaster. Rhett's stove heats up much slower than you're used to, and the pasta winds up undercooked. The homemade sauce is a bit off because part of the instructions has been distorted by water.

"I don't see what the fuss is about," covering his mouth as he speaks, "it's still good." And your heart soars with a foreign fuzziness from that alone.

Strange how the cowboy you met by mere circumstance has slowly become your number-one supporter. He's always got something nice to say about your cooking; you could be serving him plain soup from a can, and he'd still smile and thank you for taking the time to make it.

There's a night when you wake up sobbing because you saw your mother in your dream, and you miss her so, so much. It's only been two weeks without her, and you don't think you'll ever see her again. Rhett's a heavy sleeper, but he was already awake, fetching a glass of water. You don't hear him coming or realize he's there until you feel the mattress dip.

He doesn't know why you're crying, but he offers you a smile anyway, "you look like you could use a shoulder to cry on."

You're unsure if he meant that literally, but he welcomes you into his warm arms all the same. You find refuge in the comforting silence that he wears, like his favorite cologne. It wraps around you in the same fashion that his arms do, clouding your senses until your head has gone quiet too.

It's late, he has to be up early to work, but he turns on the sitcom you've been watching together. Words go unspoken because no matter how many of them you say, they can't fix this. His shoulder is warm, and somewhere between the buzz of sound on the television and the way he fiddles with your hand, you doze off.

That morning, you wake up tucked into bed, the sheets snuggly wrapped around you like a hug. Your only indication that last night wasn't a dream is the progress you made in that show.

"I hope you don't have any plans for today," good lord, how long has he been standing in the kitchen?

...and how long has he been shirtless.

You can only open and close your mouth like a fish out of water, tearing your eyes off his sculpted chest, only to have them draw back onto him like magnets. Has he always had that tattoo of a bull and rider on his chest?

If Rhett notices your staring, he doesn't call you out. "We're going to get you a friend."

"Friend?" You parrot, dumbfounded. God, those biceps...

Even as you get dressed, in a mixture of his clothes and some he's bought for you, it's hard to figure out what he means by 'friend.' Is he introducing you to someone, or is he buying a puppy? You can see Isabela tacked up through the bedroom window, waiting patiently just outside the house.

Fortunately, by now, it's easy to swing yourself up behind Rhett. Huddling close and burying your face into his back has become second nature, especially as the temperatures drop each day. Every ride, you thank your lucky stars that he's a walking furnace that's always happy to warm you up.

"Where are we going?" You don't think he's ever taken you to this side of his land. All the way down to where all four corners of the respective lands meet.

"South pasture," Rhett supplies, but he gives you nothing more to go on regarding the whole 'friend' situation.

The South belongs to Perry and his family. Although, it looks more like a lake than anything else. Water covers most of the property, forcing Isabela to stick to the fence line, where it's mostly dry. Even then, you can still hear the squelch of the soggy ground under her hooves. It's a wonder how this lake stays contained within the borders of Perry's land.

You can't help but wonder where his house is located because you see nothing but water, water, and more water.

That is, until a gray horse emerges from the murky depths, shaking the water from her coat, closely followed by a second and a third. But you hadn't seen any head's poking out of the water...

As if he's already caught on to your stupor, Rhett laughs. A loud, hearty noise. "Y'all don't got kelpies where you come from?"

Come again?

"Like the fantasy creature?" Vaguely, you recall hearing something about them once or twice, but you can't say you're familiar with their lore.

That statement alone is enough of an answer to Rhett's question. The horses—kelpies follow loosely behind you. Like they're trying to join Isabela but are too shy to go through with it. One of them makes eye contact with you, her haunting brown eyes peering straight through your skin and deep into your soul. At least, until she opens her mouth, and...

"...did that horse just hiss at me?"

"Yes, ma'am, she did."

You're not too pleased to see that Perry is out and about, although you're not too sure why you were expecting him not to be on his property. His house isn't much different from his parents, a considerable fraction smaller but equally extravagant and over the top. A towering marble fountain stands in front of his home, and even the water flowing through it looks expensive.

"I really thought you were lyin' when you said she was still with you," Perry's talking before he's within earshot, forcing you to rely on context to fill in the blanks, "what woman chooses to stay in a tiny shack like that?"

He takes one look at Rhett and falls dead silent. You're not sure if you want to know what kind of expression achieved that.

"If you don't mind, I need to speak to Rhett alone for a second." The last time someone told you they needed to speak to Rhett alone, you received information you wish you hadn't.

And you sure hope these kelpies don't talk.

Isabela is content to be tied off on a fence post nearby, minding her own while you absently scratch her shoulder. You're not sure what to do. You'd feel wrong for wandering around and exploring, but it's not the ideal experience to simply stand here. What does Perry need with Rhett, anyhow?

There's movement off to your left.

"Did you follow us?" You can't believe you're asking a horse this as if she can respond. Or so you hope.

That same horse idles at the edge of her fence, her darkened eyes fixated on you as if you're the most interesting thing she has ever seen. Up close, you can see the dapples that cover her body, most of them hidden by how she's whitened out over the years. There's a considerable amount of feathering on her lower legs; she almost looks like she's wearing oversized socks.

Again, she hisses at you.

There are plenty of horses in the field with her, but she's the only one that's truly taken notice of you.

Slow, she follows the fence until she's close enough to hang her head over the wooden panels. Her eyes look more like a goat's, pupils wide and rectangular rather than round. You're looking, waiting on those eyelashes to flutter with a blink, but as time ticks by, she only blinks once.

As you go to offer her your hand, she lifts her head, tracking everywhere the appendage goes.

"Do me a favor," whispering in the wind, "don't bite my hand off, please?" The first time your hand touches her neck, she flinches, whistling much like a dolphin, but then she returns and lets you do it again.

Her eyes close, leaning into your touch. Not so scary after all.

"Why did I have a feeling it would be that one?" The sudden appearance of Perry's voice spooks you just as much as it does your newfound companion here; both of you stop what you're doing to look for the source of the sound.

Perry and Rhett are walking over, the bush behind them shaking unnaturally as if someone's just rustled it.

"Were you two hiding in that bush?" Your accusation is answered when Rhett's eyes hit the ground, suddenly too heavy to lift them.

"For business purposes," Perry tells you blandly, "it's best to be alone; it rules out the possibility of a kelpie trying to pick someone else."

Pick?

"They're a fussy species," filling in the blank, Rhett stands next to you, holding out his hand for the kelpie to sniff, "they pick their riders, rather than the other way around."

Her halter contains a tiny ID chip that displays her information when Rhett scans it with his phone. She's seven and a half, was born and raised on Perry's land, and was initially trained to assist lifeguards, capable of reaching places that human divers cannot. Her name?

"Nyx," both you and Rhett murmur, perfectly in sync.

She settles into the barn three days later. You don't notice her at first because, at a glance, she blends in perfectly with the snow. Her presence is only given away by Rhett's surprised yelp as she turns on him, knocking him down in the driveway.

"Are you really trying to put a bow on that horse?" You can't help but tease, snow crunching below your feet. Planted flat on his back, red ribbon laying haphazardly on his belly, shoulders shaking as he giggles. Your feet come to a stop right next to the halo of brown hair, looking at him from upside down.

"Merry Christmas?" He offers, shy. Fuck, he's cute.

Until now, you've completely forgotten about Christmas and the New Year and hadn't really wanted to remember it either. Yet as this cowboy laughs at you like he's the happiest man in the world, and as Nyx comes to stand by your side, it hits you that maybe this, whatever it is, isn't so bad.

The weather makes it hard to go out for any rides; there are some days when it becomes so cold that it's dangerous for Nyx and Isabela to be outside for too long. Those days are always the worst because the wind blows so hard that you can't see beyond the porch. It always worries you because Rhett is out in it, and even the most experienced men can be overtaken by the cold.

Then there's the night when your worst fears start coming true. Two weeks after New Year's, a winter storm slams Wyoming with high winds and endless snowfall. Howling wind whips around the house, screaming by, carrying so much snow that all you can see is a solid white sheet. It's been like this all afternoon, and Rhett's an hour later than usual.

You've found yourself pacing back and forth between all the windows, searching for a sign of him out there, but all you can see is the thick clumps of snow as they descend from the skies above.

Oh, where is he? Where is he?

Rhett's always been home around six, his latest so far has been six forty-five, and that was only because Isabela got a stubborn rock lodged in her hoof.

The clock in the bedroom reads seven-thirty. The numbers bright red, glaring you down.

You've got half the mind to clamber into some of his heavy winter clothes and look for him yourself, but what will you do if you get lost too? If he comes back and finds the house empty?

Oh, but what if he's hurt himself? He could be half frozen to death out there, and—

the room falls dark.

"Great," swearing under your breath, "just fucking great."

It's below zero outside, and now you have no power. Absolutely wonderful.

There's wood and old newspaper already stocked in the fireplace, just in case Rhett's feeling festive enough to get a fire going. Memory tells you there's a lighter in the kitchen junk drawer, hidden in a mix of sticky notes, pens, and pencils. It's hard to see what you're doing, fumbling around blindly in the drawer until your fingers find the familiar shape of the lighter.

You've watched Rhett enough times to know how he usually gets these started, and you're pleased to find that you can get the fireplace going without burning the house down. Albeit, your fingers are now a twinge burnt.

Impossibly, the wind seems to be picking up more speed, beating against the house so hard that the front door is starting to shake, the knob rattling. Or, at first, you think it's the wind, but the longer it goes on, the more you start to wonder...

"Rhett?" You call out, turning toward the offending noise, "that you?"

No response, but that knob just keeps making noise.

A part of you is afraid to open it; the other half is worried about what may happen if you don't. The metal feels like ice in your hand, almost burning as you turn it and pull the door open.

That wasn't the wind.

"God, Rhett, where the hell have you been?" Hissing at the wind that rattles into the house, you step to the side, letting him stumble into the house.

His shoulders carry a mountain of snow on them; tiny icicles decorate his long lashes. You don't know where his gloves have gone, but his hands have gone white, struggling to get ahold of his jacket zipper. He's making sounds like he's trying to speak, but nothing is coming out.

"I've got you," taking hold of the zipper, you pull it down, helping him squirm out of his snow-soaked coat. It's dripping water all over the freshly cleaned floor, and the best place for it would be the washer, but you toss it onto the counter. That's not what needs to be focused on right now.

"Couldn't," swallowing thickly, "door."

How long was he out there?

Fortunately, he's still there enough to know that he should go and sit in front of the fire while you wrangle some blankets out of the closet. But even the four blankets don't help with his shivering, seemingly just as cold as before.

"How long..." speaking like his tongue has become hard to move, "has the power been out?"

"Ten minutes?" But it feels like it's been out for a decade; most of the heat has faded. It's starting to nip at you, icy fingers reaching out from the dark and running over your exposed skin.

Maybe that's how you find yourself sitting next to him, back propped against the couch, as you open your arms, beckoning him to come into them. Those deep blue eyes rake up and down your frame once, twice, and just that is enough to fill your belly with snowflakes.

Slow, Rhett scoots over, cautious as he settles against you. Head resting on your chest, arms wrapped around your waist, burying himself into you. He feels like a block of ice, and you're pretty sure he counts as one at this point.

The weight against you is bizarrely familiar, comfortable. Not too heavy, but enough to remind you that he's there, his head tucked under your chin. Those arms wrap around you like the perfect hug, impossibly strong, even now.

"Truck got stuck in the snow," he doesn't need to explain himself to you, and yet he chooses to anyhow, "couldn't get it out, so I had to walk back."

Squeezing him tighter, "what happened to your gloves?"

"They wound up gettin' wet, took 'em off thinkin' I'd be better off," weak, he laughs against your chest, hot breath dancing across your skin, "can't believe I couldn't open the damn door."

"I thought you were the wind at first," in hindsight, you should have realized it was him.

It's easy for time to get away from you, lost in the wonderous feeling of having him snuggled up into you. Such a big cowboy that fits into your arms like he was made to be in them, and you were made to hold him. He's like a teddy bear, hair soft as you rest your cheek against his head.

"You fallin' asleep?" He asks lowly.

Prying your eyes back open, "maybe."

"Good," yawning, he nuzzles his cheek against your collarbone, "because I think I am too."

Sometime later, the power kicks back on. Lighting the house in blinding shades of white as the heating and air unit roars to life outside. You don't know why, but as you untangle from each other, you find yourself wishing it hadn't come back on at all.

You can't shake it from your head, the sweetness of Rhett's weight against you, how his hair felt beneath your cheek. Like glue, the sensations have become stuck to you, refusing to let you forget about them. It keeps you up half the night; you're awake when Rhett heads out to work and can hear Nyx fussing in the barn when he enters. Household alarm system, that one.

As you start to doze, someone knocks on the front door. The person's voice is too muffled for you to understand what she said, but it's hard to miss the phrase, 'police department.'

What in the world?

Groggy, you drag yourself out of bed, stumbling over your own two feet. Did she have to pick now, of all times? Seven-thirty is too early for police officers to be doing surprise visits.

"Hi," she grins, all too cheerful, "is Rhett Abbott here, by chance?"

Yawning, you lean against the door frame, "you just missed him," you swear you've seen this woman before, "he left about an hour ago."

She doesn't seem surprised, just nodding and writing something down on her phone. Officer Judy Hawk.

Strange. You think her name was Joy in your world.

There's no time to focus on that, though, because soon she lists off a date. You know it's passed, but you don't remember what day of the week it landed. "Perry Abbott's license plate was found in a pasture down the road, on the same night a multi-million dollar racehorse went missing," your mind jumps back to what Rhett was burying, "do you know if Rhett was home that night?"

Heart climbing high into your throat, you glance toward the barn. Shit, shit, shit, do you lie? What if she already knows the truth? What if—

"Yeah," forcing a smile, "he was here all night, like always."

Judy looks skeptical, but she offers no counter-argument and doesn't press for why you're here or how you're connected to Rhett. Just smiles.

"That's about all I needed," there's that artificial friendliness again, draped over her face like a mask, "I'll find another time to come talk to Rhett. Thank you, Mrs. Abbott."

...huh?

Does she think...? That you...and Rhett...?

Ugh. No, you don't want to think about that.

It's the one thing you conveniently leave out of your retelling of the visit when Rhett inevitably stumbles in that evening. You try to be as casual as you can about it, nonchalantly letting it slip that they found Perry's plate while you take the green beans off the burner.

It's hard to tell what emotion flickers across his face. It's there and gone before you can blink, and then it's back to the usual Rhett. Too tired to be bothered by things like these.

You really hope you didn't fuck up by lying to that officer.

A freakish heatwave washes over the state during early February.

At first, you don't know what to think when you wake up and find that most of the snow has melted overnight. The weatherman tells you it's in the mid-60s, and the sun kisses you when you step out. Walking outside is like walking into a daydream, the air just perfect enough that it's not too hot or too cold.

From the fence line, Nyx hisses, adamant that she receives your attention right here and now. Spoiled.

"Hold on, hold on," rolling your eyes over her antics, "you big snake."

She doesn't understand you, but she whistles like she does. Who would have ever thought kelpies couldn't make normal horse sounds? Perry says they make plenty of different noises, but you've only seen Nyx whistle and hiss.

Again, she flicks her head back and hisses, goat-like eyes fixated upon something behind you.

"How long have you been standing there?" Honestly, you shouldn't be surprised that it's Rhett who is the cause of Nyx's offense.

His gaze flickers down, then back up, "ever since you walked out the house in nothin' but my old rodeo shirt."

...oh no.

"I uh..." now that he's said it, you're becoming hyper-aware of how bare your legs feel, "I didn't exactly plan to go outside."

Your inability to explain is rewarded with a hearty chuckle, "I can see that." As he begins to come closer, you start to flounder. "Why don't you go get dressed?" Effortlessly relieving you of any further explanation, "we got somethin' we need to do."

That's all the encouragement you need. Leaving the conversation to rot, you take off for the house, eager to retain what little of your dignity you have. God, did you really just walk out of the house in nothing but his shirt? Why does he always slip by your radar until it's too late?

Most of your clothes are still bouncing about the dryer; it's hard to accumulate them when you don't have money. Most of them come from Cecelia's monthly closet cleanouts. You have clothes, but it feels like you've got nothing to wear.

Scratchy blouses, too-warm sweaters, too-thin tees, nothing comfortable enough for what Rhett's likely to put you up to. It seems you're doomed to putting on your only pair of jeans and wearing his rodeo shirt for the rest of the day. At least it's soft.

Nyx is missing from the pasture when you step back outside. Although to find her, all you need to do is follow the sound of her whistling.

"What are we doing?" What could possibly require Rhett to tack up Nyx?

"Goin' for a ride," his voice barely audible over Nyx and her dolphin sounds, "weather's too nice to waste the day away." As if she agrees, Nyx whistles again. It's hard to tell if she's excited or pissed beyond belief.

You get your answer when you climb into her saddle, and she tries walking out of the barn before you're ready. This isn't the first time you've ridden her, but it's the first time she's been so eager to get the show on the road.

"The longer you take, the angrier the horse gets," you find yourself saying, staring at the feed room that Rhett's disappeared into.

He pokes his head out, "you and your dolphin need to learn patience."

Not one familiar with the concept, your dolphin turns and heads for the barn exit, and for once, you allow her to do what she pleases. Isabela has hardly moved from where Rhett left her by the house, but as soon as Nyx passes by, she begins to follow on your flank.

The group of you make it about four circles around the house before Rhett finally stumbles out of the barn. "How the hell did you get her to move?" Genuine shock ripples through his tone as he approaches your little walking party.

"Walked past her," at least you will never have to worry about Nyx doing the same thing, all things considered. On some days, it's a miracle that she even lets a stranger so much as perceive her.

Now that she's moving, Isabela doesn't stop for Rhett to get on and completely bypasses him when he tries stepping in front of her. Watching him chase her down and scramble up is quite an amusing sight to behold.

"So where are we going?" Asking as you follow his lead, heading toward the gate that sits along the fence line.

His head tilts west toward his parent's house, "you'll see when we get there."

As he'd indicated, you head west at a leisurely pace, taking all the time in the world. There's no reason to rush. You've gone this direction so many times, huddled up to Rhett's back as his felt cowboy hat bumps against the top of your head, that it feels foreign not to be there.

"What?" Rhett grins; he's caught you staring.

"I've gotten so used to cuddling up on the back of your horse that riding alone feels strange," the confession comes easily, slipping from your throat like a breath of air.

"Oh really?" His eyes squint in that telltale way; you're never going to hear the end of this. "You missin' cuddlin' with me?"

There are two ways you can address this. Deny it to no end, or confirm it.

"Maybe I do."

In the blink of an eye, his grin falters, eyelashes fluttering as he turns his attention to Isabela's pristine mane, "yeah?"

You don't understand why your heart flutters at that.

The dark, dead circle still resides in the ground, a landmark you always pass over here. It's worsened since the first time you laid eyes on it, the grass jet black, land sunken in. You've quit walking into it and hoping it will take you back.

Beyond the driveway that leads up to his parent's home lies a tiny, barely there trail. Washed out and overgrown, only made visible by the sand once poured to mark its path.

"Perry and I used to ride out here every Sunday while our folks went to church," removing his hat, Rhett tips his head back, letting the slight breeze rustle through his hair. It's gotten so much longer since the first time you met.

"What made you stop?" He's never been bothered by your probing for more information, but you're still hesitant to ask.

Rhett's quiet. Body swaying with Isabela's motions. The muscles in his jaw flex and relax as he sucks on his tongue, "he met Rebecca," he says after a minute, "and all of a sudden, he was too busy to be my brother anymore."

Stiffness returns to his frame, wiring his broad shoulders tight, "I hated every second of their relationship."

Ducking under a low-hanging branch, narrowly avoiding it, "what made you hate it so much?"

"Jealous," he spits it out so quickly that you hear it before you realize you've finished speaking. One of his big hands rises to scratch his neck, "or lonely, I guess. God, I don't know why I'm even bringing this up."

"You're allowed to talk about it if you want to," humming, you reach out, squeezing his knee, "I'm listening."

Up ahead is a slight clearing, where the land abruptly flattens itself out, and the trees have visibly been cut down. There's an old wooden bench facing the valley, rotting, overtaken by the elements. You see precisely why they put it here; the view is breathtaking.

You can see everything. The houses, the evident, shaky divide between the four properties. It looks so empty from up here.

"I can't tell you how many nights I spent up here, drinking on that bench," forcing a laugh, "God, I was the loneliest son 'f a bitch in the state."Was.

Nyx whistles, forcing you to wait until she's done giving you her two cents. "What changed?"

You don't think you've ever seen his eyes soften like that. Like someone's lit a match and melted away every drop of the icy stiffness that lives in them. With it taking away the fake smile he's been donning all afternoon.

And then you hear it, the faintest shadow of a voice you've ever heard, "you."

Oh.

In your mouth, your tongue fills with lead, but as it turns out, you don't have to speak because Rhett already is. "I've met a lot of people in my life, but you're the first person that's ever made me feel..." shaking his head, he looks away, focusing back on Isabela's mane, "like I'm not some good for nothing cowboy that's only meant to work and do favors."

You don't know what to say. For Rhett, though, your smile is enough of a reply because it makes him smile too. That's all you could really ask for.

There's only so much time you can spend looking out at the valley before it becomes boring, and soon, you're heading further up the trail, side by side. Quiet, but not uncomfortably so. That's the beauty of Rhett; whether he knows it or not, he's taught you that not all silence is bad. That it can be just as comforting as words.

"I have a question," you hate to break the silence, but it's starting to ebb at the back of your mind.

He puts his hat back on his head. "Shoot."

Alright. Here goes nothing. "What happened to Rebecca?" A part of you is expecting a cold, uncomfortable reaction, but you never receive it.

"She went missin' a year ago, 'bout nine months before you arrived," his voice airy, "just up and left him and their daughter."

You catch his mouth opening and closing a couple of times like there's something more that he wants to say. He never voices it.

At the very end of the trail lies an even more extensive clearing than before. The remnants of a gazebo lie dead in the middle, unfinished and rotting, much like the old bench. An old pile of lumber sits next to it; weeds have long since overtaken it, rendering it unusable.

How much time did they spend up here?

"I know this place ain't much," you don't know when he got so close to you, "but I hope it didn't bore you to death."

"'m not bored," tilting your head to meet his gaze as you speak, "this was nice."

"Yeah?" There's that grin you were missing. "Would you want to do this again?"

Nodding only makes his smile grow wider, taking up his entire face.

And somewhere in your head, you catch yourself wishing to see that smile for the rest of your life.

That next ride takes forever to come. The thing about Wyoming weather is that it rules the land with an iron, unpredictable fist. Just as quickly as the snow melted, it comes back. Once again, covering the ranch in a pristine, glittering white blanket. So returns to the routine of it being too cold to do much, of watching movies until you're sick of looking at the screen. Those nights when you turn on a film to have some background noise while you talk.

Breakfast is a rare occasion in this household.

You've got the ingredients, but it's hard to motivate yourself to cook when it's just you. Rhett's always gone or halfway out the door when you get up. It's hard to justify a big meal without him and his oversized appetite.

But today, you really, really miss the joys of breakfast and the foods associated with it. Hashbrowns, biscuits, and gravy. Oh, and the wonderfully crafted bacon that is exclusive to this world of Rhett's, completely vegan but tasting identical to the real deal. You still don't believe that it's real.

It takes all of ten minutes of craving it for you to come up with a plan. So what's stopping you from bringing the man breakfast?

As you busy about the kitchen, dancing from skillet to skillet, you struggle to fry up some kind of explanation. Something that amounts to more than just 'I brought you breakfast because I'm hungry and felt like feeding you too.' What will you put it all in? What if he doesn't want it?

Shit, you just burned the hashbrowns.

Whoever told you that it's easier to think on a full stomach was a liar because your meal doesn't help. Drawing blank after blank, failing to devise a single excuse for this. The best thing to come to mind is the memory that plastic containers exist. Perfect for carrying breakfast to a blue-eyed cowboy.

And did you fry an egg because you remember him offhandedly mentioning that he likes them with his hashbrowns? Yes. Yes, you did.

Rhett should be around the back of the barn right now. He usually spends most of his morning dealing with non-cattle-related matters, like cleaning the stalls and restocking various things he used up the day prior.

"Hey, Cowboy," your voice echoes through the barn as you call out for him, "you in here?"

On the other side of the building, you receive the gruffest 'yeah' you've ever heard. It hardly even sounds like Rhett; if it weren't for his head poking around the corner, you might have mistaken him for someone else entirely.

"Somethin' wrong?" Before you can even get a word out, he's dropping everything he was just doing.

Meekly, you lift the plastic container for him to see, the contents warm and steaming up the inside of the material, "I brought you something."

That's got his attention.

Like a puppy, he cocks his head to the side, struggling to deduce what you've brought him. His hands shake as he takes the container from you, large fingers working their way between the lid and prying it upward.

Those blue eyes start to shimmer, wide, round, "you brought me breakfast?" Barely audible, not even a whisper. It makes your knees feel weak.

"I did," you feel like you should say more. Give him a reason, make up a fake holiday, something, anything to justify this. He doesn't need one. Accepting your random act of kindness without pressing you for meaningless reasons.

Oh, that smile...

"Thank you," and there's not a damn thing in this world that can take the sweetness from his tone, "I don't...nobody's ever...done anything like this for me before."

It's difficult to wrap your head around. Nobody? Not his momma, his brother, a girlfriend?

Together, you sit on buckets in the tack room, basking in the perfect, comfortable silence occasionally broken by Nyx whistling in her stall. You don't know how you feel, knowing you're the first to do something as simple as this. Pride swells in your chest every time he takes a bite, smile growing a little bigger.

But at the same time, you've found yourself feeling bitter. This is Rhett. The sweet cowboy who took you, a total stranger, into his home and never once asked a thing from you in return. The guy who works overtime takes care of Perry's share of chores. Leaves before sunrise and is lucky to return before sunset.

And not one person has...done this.

A routine blossoms. Once or twice a week, you make breakfast, hunt Rhett down, and eat it with him. Sometimes that means sitting out in the elements when you could be cozied up inside; sometimes, it includes eating and walking.

There's one occasion where he's fixing a fence, hands too busy with something that he can't stop until he's finished. You still haven't forgotten how he giggled when you held the fork out for him, determined to get him to eat before it got cold.

"Can I have a piece of bacon?" He asks, grunting as he tightens the barbed wire, "or something other than..."

Unfortunately for him, you've already shoveled more hashbrowns onto his fork; he accepts it regardless. Not like he has much choice.

"Quit giving me nothing but hashbrowns, woman!" Laughing around his mouthful of food, it's a miracle he doesn't choke.

"Fussy."

"Very much so—" he falls silent. You've done it again.

Your warning sign should have been how quickly he snatched that bite. It only occurs to you that he's finished that portion of the fence when he rushes toward you like a bull. By the time you turn and run, it's too late.

Strong arms wrap around your waist, dragging you into an equally muscular chest, squeezing you tight, "you ain't gettin' away that easy, missy!"

It's hard to tell who fell first, but you wind up on the grass in some way or another. Laying on your backs, sharing a piece of bacon as you stare up at the morning sky, still painted in enchanted orange, red, and purple hues.

"D'ya want the last piece?" The edge of it appears in your peripheral, tempting.

Reaching up, you tear a piece off right down the middle, "we'll split it."

It would have been simpler for each of you to have your own piece because you've split the last two parts. But in that case, it wouldn't have been as special.

Rolling over onto his stomach, Rhett looks down at you, cheek propped in his hand, "I'll try to be home earlier tonight."

"Can't wait to see that movie, huh?" On its own accord, your hand rises, desperate to push those curled locks out of his face. By the time you realize it, Rhett's already caught on; too late to back out now.

"Nope," eyes fluttering shut as you run your fingers through his hair, tucking the offending strands behind his ear. It's so inexplicably soft like it's been washed and cared for by Gods. You can't stop yourself from playing with it. "You're fixin' to put me to sleep if you keep that up."

Right now, the concept of falling asleep doesn't sound so bad.

Alas, duty calls. Perry's riding up, and the last thing either of you wants to hear is him bitching about Rhett being lazy. So, with your empty container and a soft 'thank you' from Rhett, you head back to the house.

By early, Rhett usually means around five thirty, barely much earlier than his usual time. That time comes and goes, and you find no sign of him. Nyx starts to whistle in that telltale way she always does when Rhett passes, but there's no sign of him.

It feels like the snowstorm incident all over again. Six comes and passes. Six thirty. Six forty-five. Seven.

No, no, something is wrong. You don't know what is telling you that, but you know it. You know it the same way you know up from down, from how bitter sourness churns in your belly, your hands becoming cold and tingly. This isn't like Rhett.

All you have is a flashlight and a pocket knife that he keeps in the junk drawer, but you leave the house feeling like you've got an army at your disposal. Rhett's not in the barn, but Isabela is munching on hay that's been put out for them in the pasture. That's usually the last thing he does before he comes in for the night. Feed the horses.

Nyx paces along the fence, hissing for your attention. Not right now. She can have her pets later.

"Rhett?" Calling out for him brings you nothing. Again, Nyx hisses.

There's no sign of him around the house; his truck hasn't budged. The fence isn't locked, though. The chain dangles loosely around the meet of the bars, the lock open and hanging on to the end. That's so...strange.

What's even stranger is how your horse keeps bobbing her head up and down, hissing, whistling, as if she's gone mad. Not once does she quit moving back and forth along the fence.

"Nyx?"

Then you hear it. The distant roar of a truck. Shakes the ground with its fury as it rushes closer and closer. Someone is driving through the pasture.

Nyx and Isabela scatter, darting far to the opposite corner of the enclosure, and that's when you catch it. The glint of light bounces off the top of the truck as it races toward the gate. Directly where you're standing. Its headlights are off, but you already know the vehicle doesn't belong to anyone in the Abbott family.

Your feet are moving before you can register it, diving behind Rhett's truck.

The gate bursts open with an ear-shattering crack, hinges squealing. Rhett's truck jolts, struck by the unknown vehicle as it turns too sharply. Dirt and rock fly through the air, kicked up by ridiculously massive tires. Just as quickly as it had arrived, it tears down the driveway, leaving a plume of smoke in its wake.

This is too much of a coincidence for it not to be connected.

You don't know who that was. You don't care that they hit Rhett's truck. You don't care about the stupid fucking fence. You don't remember coming out from behind your hiding place when you started running.

Heart hammering, you race through the field, using the tire tracks as your guide. Nyx flies along after you, whistling as she sidles up by your left, so close that you can feel the heat radiating off her.

Whistling again, she parts off to your right, heading straight for the back of the property. The tracks are your best marker, but it hits you as she looks back at you. Maybe she knows.

So you follow.

Your lungs burn. Feet hammering the ground. Desperate to keep Nyx in your sight. The flashlight clicks in your hand. Flickers to life. Burns out in the blink of an eye. Swearing, you drop it. Like a ghost, Nyx tears through the night. Her bright coat is the only thing you can see. She's whistling. Clacking her teeth.

She stops. Dead in her tracks. You do too.

Just ahead is a silhouette. Kneeling. Impossible to see at first.

"Rhett?"

"Are you okay?" That's his voice. That's his voice, but it doesn't sound like him. Deep. Strained.

"Of course, I'm fine," kneeling by his frame, "I'm not the one who's..."

All you can see is crimson. Dripping down his scalp. From the tip of his left ear. His hair is a wreck. Body trembling so hard that you can hear his teeth chatter.

"Don't—" but his protests can't stop you. His jaw shakes in your hand as you curl your fingers around it, lifting his head to meet your gaze.

"Rhett," you don't...what? "What did they do to you?"

His split, bloody bottom lip quivers, "I'm okay." Voice-breaking in the middle, unable to handle those two little words.

There isn't an inch of him that isn't bruised. Blood pours from his hands and nose, a massive cut rippling down the corner of his left eye; it's barely open. You don't know if that's dirt or newly formed bruises peeking out from his shredded flannel.

"You don't look okay," your words only make him shake a little harder. His eyes glisten.

There is only one thing you can think of doing. You open your arms. He falls into them. Broad shoulders quivering as he buries his face into your neck, wetting it with little drops of fire.

"Please don't let go of me." You don't. You can't.

Rhett Abbott is by no means a small man. He's massive. In personality, in his broad shoulders, in his big blue eyes, and in his scarred, calloused hands. A wolf in every sense of the term, fierce, borderline feral on most days.

But that's not him right now.

You don't know what they've done to him, but it's shrunken him into nothing but a mouse. Flinching when you rub your fingers at the nape of his neck, his breath hitching with an unbridled fear you've never known him to bear. You hardly recognize the pained whimpers that slip from him.

Your back aches. Knees are bruising from being dug into the rocky ground, but you can't bring yourself to budge even an inch. It's a wonder that his arms still bear the strength to hold onto you, looping tight around your waist, anchoring you down.

"I've got you," murmuring into the side of his head, "I've got you." On your left, Nyx lowers her head, sniffing, nuzzling the back of Rhett's neck. It scares him, jumping away from her with a pained, surprised gasp.

That's enough to remind him of where you are, out in the dark, the temperature gradually dropping. He doesn't speak, but you know what he's trying to do when his legs begin fumbling beneath him, wobbly like a newborn foal. Heavily minding his right leg as you help him up.

"Shit," he hisses, eyes bolting shut, "y'might...have to get the truck."

The truck might not be starting anytime soon.

Your eyes land on Nyx. She looks at you, the timing almost comedic. You're both sharing the same idea.

"There ain't no way she's fixin' to let me up there," but Rhett's protest goes unheard.

A part of you wonders if it's her lineage. Her original purpose. To rescue individuals from the unpredictable, violent ocean. Because she's wholly put away her avid dislike for Rhett. Perfectly calm as you help him up onto her back, not a single pinned ear, not a sound.

You're unsure if the look in Rhett's eyes comes from the situation or Nyx's behavior.

He's quick to wrap himself around you once you've settled before him. His breath is hot on your shoulder as he buries his nose into it, hugging tightly, but not enough to hurt. As Nyx takes you back to the house, you begin to notice the dark spots on your shirt; blood.

"Was them Tillerson guys," he chokes out, lifting his head to avoid being muffled by your shirt. Tillerson. That sounds...familiar. "They think I'm the one that killed the goddamn horse."

You completely forgot about that. The damn horse that Perry hit and Rhett had to hide bits and pieces around the place. You're not sure where he hid the rest of its legs; the last time you saw them, it was right after—

no. No, absolutely not.

"So they jumped you on your own property?" There's a pitchiness to your voice as you try to clear an image from your head.

He starts to reply, but he cuts himself off. "Did they drive through my fuckin' gate?"

Yeah, and they hit your truck too.

"That they did," confirming, conveniently leaving out the vehicle. He's got enough to worry about right now.

Isabela has returned to munching on the hay Rhett put out for her, three heads buried deep into it, not a concern in the world. The very definition of unbothered.

"Glad to see the household menace cares and not my beloved companion," chuckling weakly at the sight of her, Rhett leans back down to rest his head against you.

The gate is mangled beyond belief, warped from the truck's grill that blasted through it, but it's still functional. You find the lock and chain in the driveway; Rhett's able to get it locked, as it should be. Tonight is one of those nights where it's warm enough for Isabela and Nyx to stay outside, free roaming their stomping grounds until morning.

But then Rhett steps into the porch light, and your face drops.

He looks horrible. Left eye bruised and swollen, blood dried all along his face, and caked in his hair. God, there are so many bruises around his neck; every one of his knuckles has split wide open, some still dripping with liquid red.

"I'm okay," that's a lie, and you both know it.

His muscles don't carry enough strength to take his shirt off; you have to step into the bathroom and help him because he can't get it off himself. The shower runs, and it runs, for what feels like an eternity. Until it stops.

"You alive in there?" Knocking on the bathroom door after some time has passed.

"...yeah," eventually comes your answer, "I don't...I'm having trouble...uh."

The door opens, and it immediately hits you. Rhett can't lift his arms to wash his hair; it's wet, dripping pale red onto the bathroom floor, but it's visibly matted together.

"Do you want some help?" Still taking it all in, failing to avoid the scattering of red along his ribcage, where he's been kicked repeatedly.

"I do, but..." looking between you and the shower, his eyes fluttering, "...don't know that would work without...you know."

Never in your wildest dreams have you considered making Rhett sit in the bathtub in nothing but his boxer shorts, but here you are. His head is tilted back as far as he can comfortably manage, eyes closed as you rinse his hair with the handheld shower head. The blood is stubborn. Whenever you think you've got it all, you find another patch.

"'M sorry you have to do this," so faint that you almost miss it entirely.

"You've got nothing to be sorry about," you don't mean to come off as snappy as you do, the tension in your shoulders seemingly leaking out of your tone, "none of this is your fault."

As you reach to turn the water off, those eyes flicker open; deep blue, so dark that you almost mistake them for brown. Not saying anything; simply watching. You could use his three-in-one shampoo, tucked in the corner in a navy bottle, but you reach for yours instead.

"Fixin' to make me smell like strawberry and vanilla, I see," weakly, he chuckles at his own words, "plannin' to eat me after this?"

The image of him between your legs flickers through your mind like a pesky ex, nearly making you drop the shampoo on his head. You haven't thought about that since the day it happened; why is it bubbling up now?

"Maybe I am," you tease, "what're you gonna do about it?"

Whatever retort he's boiling up is lost when you run your fingers through his hair. Unable to hide the slight unfocusing of his eyes as they flutter shut. A sucker for having his hair played with.

The soap sinking into his unhealed wounds has got to sting, but you're unsure if he so much as notices. Despite the situation, a tiny, kitten-like smile works across his lips. It's a wonder he doesn't begin purring, so absolutely content as you lather his hair. Even as you turn the water back on, it doesn't fade.

You can never take some things from a man, no matter how hard you try. That smile is one of those things.

That goddamn smile. The one that never fails to make your gut feel like it's been filled with butterflies, their delicate wings tickling away at you. It's difficult to imagine what life would be like without...

shit.

"Y'alright?" Those eyes have long since reopened, fixated solely on you.

Nodding, "yeah," having to force your voice to cooperate, "just thinking, is all."

You only need to step out long enough for him to dry off and wriggle into some clothes. Maybe takes him a minute at max, but it feels like an eternity on the other side of that door. Now that it's clicked, you can't get it to unclick. Everything makes sense; it all makes perfect sense, and you don't know what to make of it.

The door squeaks back open, "g'nna need your help one more time, little lady."

Right. You still need to brush his hair out.

It's not complicated; most of the tangles came out while you were washing it, but the brush moves so slowly that it might not be moving at all. It's hard to move with all these thoughts clouding your senses. This man that took a liking to you for no good reason. A mere stranger a year ago is now the only thing that brings a smile to your face on most days.

This cowboy who lassoed you upon your first meeting, and while he let go of you physically, he's never let go of your heart. Not even once.

Fuck.

You might have feelings for this man.

But now isn't the time to sift through those feelings because fresh blood stains the comb's bristles. Coming from the back of his head, a deep split of the muscle running so deep that it hurts you to look at.

Wordless, Rhett reaches into the cabinet, producing a small tube of superglue. On a typical day, you think you'd protest and insist that he see a doctor instead, but you don't have it in you. Looking in the reflection of the mirror is enough. Bruised, swollen eyes barely open, jaw slack with what can only be described as exhaustion.

He's had enough for one day.

The whine that leaves him when the glue touches him is brutal to stomach. Even worse, you can do nothing about it; you've no choice but to listen to his pained whimpers as you pinch the wound shut. It has to be done, whether you like it or not.

"Do you still want to watch that movie?" Rubbing his shoulders when you're done, "I can put that pizza in the oven."

It takes him a little bit to process what you've said, but ultimately, he nods, "yeah."

What you hate the most is that while Rhett's physical wounds immediately begin to heal, the others don't. Need more time. Require a bit more attention.

In the kitchen, he jumps when he feels you behind him, swearing under his breath, eyes big as saucers. A far cry from the Rhett, who could never be surprised by your appearance, always seeming to know you're there. Every little sound has him glancing between you and the door; refuses to sit in the seat that places his back to it.

While lying in bed, you can hear him fumbling on the couch. At some point, he gets up to put a chair under the doorknob as if he's afraid someone will burst through at any moment. It takes you all of two minutes to make your next decision.

"'m sorry I'm keepin' you up," he murmurs, half-lidded gaze following you and your bundle of blankets, "what're you doin'?"

"Figured you could use a buddy for the night," tossing your pillow onto the couch, you settle in. It's a wonder how the man sleeps on these all the time; they're not the most comfortable.

The corner of his lip quirks up, following your movements, until you're facing him, your eyes poking out of the blankets. "Thank you."

It's not contained to just that night, though.

He spooks at little things. When you bring him breakfast. When one of the horses makes a noise in their pasture. Perry flies up the driveway once; Rhett locks the door and stands in the laundry room until he realizes who it is. All that, just to find out that their parents are throwing a birthday party for Perry's daughter.

Always looking around, scanning the treeline and driveway like they'll be there waiting for him. He gives you a cell phone a week after the incident.

"Just in case," he tells you, so, so desperate to have peace of mind. To know that you're safe and have a way to reach him. It's the same color as the phone that lies dead in the bedside drawer.

It's hard to tell if he's getting through it all by himself or if you've merely figured out how to avoid his triggers. Making sure he's seen you before stepping behind him, always keeping a hand on him when you're back there, so he knows where you are. Calling out for him on your breakfast runs.

There's something enchanting about how he grins at you on those mornings, opening his arms up and welcoming you with a hug. Selfishly, you accept them every time, eager to feel those muscles around you, to squish your cheek into his broad chest.

"I like to have never found ya," and you know you've got it bad when you're starting to talk like the bastard. He's over on Perry's property, fixing a broken fence.

"'m sorry," he mumbles, quiet, "Perry called this mornin', said he needed me to do some repairs."

Where is his hand going...

"You're thinkin' 'bout somethin'," scruffy fingers take hold of your chin, tingles shooting down your spine as he brings your gaze to meet his. "Spit it out."

Here goes nothing. "Why do you help so much?"

His head cocks to the side, "whatcha mean?"

"I mean, you're always helping with Perry's chores," gesturing toward the barely standing fence, "when you already have a ranch to run on your own."

That seems to be what he was expecting you to ask because his face lacks any hint of surprise. "After Rebecca disappeared, I promised to help him with anything he needs," his hand travels back, fingertips rubbing the meet of your jaw. "Got somethin' on your skin."

Whatever is on you must be stubborn because he licks the pad of his thumb, rubbing wide circles until it's gone. Your knees might buckle. Up close, it's easy to see how they've healed; bright pink patches of skin decorate his knuckles, scarring that sticks out like a sore thumb. There are still a few scabs on his left hand; they would have healed by now if they didn't keep opening back up while he works.

"So you've become his personal maintenance man because of a promise?" Last you checked, Perry didn't go offering his help when his own actions caused Rhett to be hurt.

"I'm a man of my word," sucking in a deep breath, Rhett yawns, "no matter how much I may regret it."

Part 1 ♡⊹˚₊ Part 3

#flowers in november #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott imagine #outer range fic #outer range #outer range amazon #oneshot #ao3fic #ao3 oneshot #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fic #x reader #self insert #reader self insert #rhett abbott outer range

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howdy-cowpoke · 5 months ago

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TIMING: Recent LOCATION: The woods near Prickly Pear Acres PARTIES: Monty (@howdy-cowpoke) & Kaden (@chasseurdeloup) SUMMARY: After asking Monty if he wants to accompany him on a hunt, Kaden is surprised when the zombie says yes. The pair find an aravo. CONTENT WARNINGS: Gun use

—

Every twig cracked and leaf crunched under their feet sent tension shooting through Kaden. Putain, this was stupid, he was never this nervous on a hunt. Not even when he was out on the full moon without much more than a few tranqs and a knife. Somehow that was different. It wasn’t only his own life that he was putting on the line. This time he wasn’t alone, Monty was following just behind him, shotgun in hand. This time if something went sideways, it wouldn’t just be himself in danger, it would be his partner, too. The thought was terrifying.

Maybe inviting him had been a mistake.

No, that wasn’t quite right. Kaden didn’t regret asking Monty to join him, not really. It was different — he’d never been able to share what he was or what he did with anyone who wasn’t already a hunter. And all the hunters he had relationships with, well, those weren’t exactly long-term. But his partner had never seen this side of him, not really. Would he still be okay with it in practice and not just in theory?

Kaden took his hand off the rifle he was gripping, shook it out, then swapped and shook the other. It didn’t do much. Putain, he had to calm the hell down. It wasn’t like Monty was just some human out there with him, he was a zombie. He wasn’t going to go down easy, not to mention he knew how to shoot. They’d be fine. It was going to be fine.

At least, that’s what he kept telling himself. “I’m, uh, a little surprised,” he said as they continued deeper into the woods. “I mean, that you said yes. To coming out here. With me.” He used the awkward silence to listen for any signs of creatures up ahead. “Not like– I just mean hunting.” It wasn’t exactly something he’d pictured them doing together. Ever. But there they were. Kaden had just wanted to get out and do something, a way to feel better, more in control, after everything that had happened lately. Hunting down Jade and confronting her seemed to be off the table for now, so this was the next best option. He had a feeling that Monty was out there for similar reasons.

—

It had been an uphill battle to remind himself he was not who he used to be, and that he did not have to regress into that state of being to protect and defend the people he cared about. For weeks, he’d been colder. Angrier. More ready to do something rash. He’d been the man that Hector had carved from a petrified bit of wood, discovered in a state of fright that night on the ranch, but recognized as a thing that had the potential to be shaped into a more pleasing form. And shaped he had been, chipped away at and molded into someone who would better serve Hector’s purposes over the course of seventeen years. When that service came to an end, the cowboy hadn’t really known who he was anymore. But after settling here in Maine, after meeting the people most important to him, he had started to remember.

He couldn’t forget that now, not when he had so much to lose.

Agreeing to go with Kaden on this hunt had been as much about giving himself an outlet as it was about keeping an eye on the man, paranoia becoming a daily obstacle that the cowboy had to hurdle over to keep his momentum going, to keep himself from shutting down. There was so much fear deep in his core that he didn’t know how to address or dispel, and this seemed like the best option he had. He knew getting rid of that slayer would feel nice, but it would never solve the problem. There were too many threats coming from too many angles. Monty was beginning to feel trapped. A walk in the woods sounded very, very good.

“How could I say no, mi corazón?” Monty gave his partner a soft smile, tilting his head up slightly to meet the other’s gaze. “You help out so much on the farm, it was only fair.” That was far from the real reason, and they both knew that. It didn’t really need to be spoken. “Anyway, I thought maybe it would be good for you to have someone here to watch your back, ah?” He couldn’t help but let his thoughts flit toward the last few times Kaden had gone alone — the bite. The attempted drowning. No, he needed protecting just as much as Monty needed to feel like he wasn’t helpless. The terrible memories drew him closer to the man, his free hand finding the small of Kaden’s back.

—

It was stupid how much one small smile from his partner could help dampen the nerves coursing through Kaden’s veins. Unfortunately, it couldn’t silence them but it was enough to remind him to breathe, relax a little. Vigilance was critical when going out in the field, but panic was detrimental. He knew that. Hell, it had practically been beaten into him. Kaden knew better than to put himself into danger when his emotions were compromised but there he was, a fucking mess because of one man. The same man was the one who managed to calm him down. Maybe it would balance itself out. For now, Kaden was going to ignore his heart pounding in his damn chest.

“Don’t start distracting me too much or I might have to rethink future invitations,” he said, returning the smile. It would be easier to just stop right there, forget hunting, forget any of the anger and fear that had been swirling around inside them both, just let this be some time together out in the woods and not a potentially life-threatening activity. It would be nicer to lean into his partner's touch and let the world fall away. There was a tree on the side of the path and if he leaned over and took a step that way, he could drop his weapons and steal a kiss instead, maybe—

Pins pricked along his spine and Kaden’s focus snapped back to the forest in front of them. It wasn’t a shifter, certainly not a werewolf, but there was a beast nearby.

Right. It was better not to forget themselves, not here in the woods of Wicked’s Rest. Even if he didn’t want to be a hunter right this second, Kaden couldn’t let his guard down, couldn’t forget his training. Not yet.

“Mi corazon.”

”Hmm?” he said, turning back to look at Monty. His brow was raised, wondering what it was that the cowboy needed from him. A quick visual sweep of their surroundings didn’t reveal anything alarming, at least not on first glance. Kaden met his partner’s eye’s again, hoping to find the answer there or some sort of clue. “Did you see something?” That had been Monty’s voice. Kaden would know it anywhere. And it came from the right direction. So why did his partner look more confused than he did?

—

Monty recognized that look in Kaden’s eyes, half expecting their plans for the day to be very quickly altered into something decidedly more safe but not exactly calm, either—a thought that would have made him blush if he were still able. He felt his grip on the shotgun loosening until Kaden’s body language shifted again, his gaze drawn away by something he had heard or felt. Monty, with his deadened senses, hadn’t heard anything, but—

His eyes widened. Was that… his voice?

“I… no? That… was not me,” Monty explained, bewildered. His grip on the weapon tightened again and he looked around them just as Kaden had, but saw nothing. He recalled the stories of duendes he’d been told as a child and how they could mimic human voices, so he was always warned against following a voice out into the woods. He supposed that if they were real, this would be the place for them to exist. They weren’t always evil though, or so the stories went, but they did love mischief. “Have you heard of a thing called a duende?” It might be called something else entirely around here, he couldn’t be sure. Now that he thought about it more, it certainly sounded fae-ish. But that wouldn’t have had Kaden’s spine straightening like that before either of them could see anything. So what was it, then?

—

Kaden’s mouth set into a thin line as he glanced through the treelines, searching for the source setting off his hunter senses. “It wasn’t?” He tried to keep the concern from weighing down his voice as much as he tried to keep scanning the forest rather than meeting Monty’s eyes. Mimicking voices. Had to be some kind of beast nearby. There were a handful of possibilities swirling in Kaden’s mind but it was too early to make assumptions.

“A duende,” he repeated. “I haven’t, no. What is it exactly?” He was afraid to find out that there was something out there he’d never heard of. The ranger had heard of a lot of things. Plenty. This town still found new ways to be weird all the same.

His head twisted towards a flash of feathers in the branches but he was too slow to get a look at what was waiting there. For all he knew, his heart rate had spiked over a fucking blue jay. Kaden knew better than that, though.

“Watch your back.” Kaden could have sworn it was his partner’s voice, that it was coming from the man right behind him. He spun around, gun raised and ready to fire, but all he saw was Monty, nothing else.

The look on the zombie’s face made it pretty clear that he hadn’t been the one to speak those words. Kaden tried not to let his own concern show and did his best to think instead. “Have you heard?” The voice rang out into the forest and this time it was clear that Monty’s mouth wasn’t moving along with it. The only indication was a rustling in the trees.

—

“Ehm… exactly? They are… smallish… people? They lived in the cloud forests in Oaxaca. They could mimic voices and they would steal… toes.” It sounded strange, he knew, but his abuela had been adamant that if he ever heard someone speaking to him but could not see them, it was probably a duende.

There was a flurry of movement and Monty’s gaze followed Kaden’s, but his reaction times were not quite so good. He saw nothing, but heard himself speak again, only it wasn’t him. Eyebrows raised in alarm, he watched Kaden swing the gun around and aim it at the trees where there was a rustling. From that obscured spot in the trees, he heard something speak with his voice again. If his heart could still beat, it would be thundering out of his chest.

He took a step back, eyes fixed on the spot where the voice had some from. He lifted his shotgun as well, feeling uncertain about firing but not knowing what else to do if something came flying at them from the canopy. It did not seem like this was a little person, unless that little person could also fly.

“Exactly?” Monty’s own voice croaked from the trees. The zombie took another step back, eyes widening as there was a flash of bright color and suddenly—wait, was that a parrot? “Ay dios mío!” the cowboy exclaimed with a laugh, relief overwhelming him. Obviously this was just someone’s lost pet!

—

If they weren’t in the middle of a hunt, this would be the moment where Kaden would take his partner’s hand and give him a small show of comfort. Even if he was simply unsure rather than frightened or nervous, he would have liked to give Monty some reassurance rather than have his hands wrapped around the handle of a shotgun. Unfortunately, he didn’t have that luxury at the moment.

Instead,the ranger kept his eyes peeled, following the trail of the rustles around them. Before he could get a good look at the beast, Monty was laughing at his own words repeated back to him. At first glance, it looked like an ordinary parrot. Kaden desperately wanted to believe that was the case but he knew better.

“Mon coeur” he said, reaching for his partner to back up behind him, trying to put himself between Monty and the monster. He didn’t get a chance to even aim his gun at the bird before it flew over to them and landed on the zombie’s shoulder.

Putain. That was no parrot. It was an aravo. “Mon coeur, I think you should step back n–”

“Mon coeur,” the thing repeated in his exact voice. “Mi corazon,” it added, switching back to Monty’s voice.

Fuck. This thing was going to end up with both of their voices at this rate. Kaden held up a finger to his lips, hoping his partner understood what he was suggesting.

—

It wasn’t until the not-parrot landed on Monty’s shoulder that he realized it wasn’t feathered like it should be, but covered in colorful scales. Its wings were bat-like, and it propped itself up on them like some kind of small dragon. His eyes were wide, but he didn’t feel afraid—it wasn’t attacking, after all, it was just… talking. And cawing, he noted with a wince as it let out a loud screech. “Okay, okay, I hear you,” he muttered, looking over to Kaden as he heard him start to speak.

The parrot copied him, and Monty chuckled again. It was weird, to be sure, but definitely cute. Except… Kaden didn’t look so charmed. His partner was telling him to be quiet with a hand motion, his gaze jumping to the bird… lizard thing on Monty’s shoulder. The cowboy tilted his head curiously, but he didn’t need to be told twice. If Kaden was telling him to do (or not do) something while they interacted with a supernatural beast, there would be no second-guessing from Monty. He knew his partner knew best.

The creature was craning its neck up to nip at the brim of Monty’s hat, and the animal-lover had to stifle his reaction. This thing seemed harmless, except for whatever was going on with it mimicking their voices. “I hear you!” it screeched, and Monty grimaced. Okay, that one sounded a little ominous. He shrugged at Kaden, wondering what they were supposed to do next.

—

The shotgun was going to be a terrible idea with the creature sitting on the cowboy’s shoulder. If Kaden missed his shot… He didn’t want to even consider as much. Carefully, he put the safety back on and lowered the gun to the ground by his side. His mind swirled to come up with a Plan B in the meantime. Merde, if this had been an actual parrot, its playfulness with Monty would have brought a smile to his face. He had to remind himself that this wasn’t just a bird or a lost pet, this was a monster. A supernatural creature that could (and would) steal their voices. Hell, it had already started.

As quietly and as carefully as he could manage, Kaden fished around in his pack for a net. He wasn’t sure how much it would help but it was worth a shot. He kept it bunched up in his hands, hiding from the creature as much as possible. He knew these fuckers were smart, it wouldn’t be unheard of for the aravo to notice and fly off. For now, the ranger was going to take advantage of the fact that the thing seemed enamored with his partner. It had good taste, he’d give it that much.

Kaden breathed in deep, net in hand and ready to spring it onto the monster. Only, he hesitated. Just for a split second. He couldn’t help it. The mannerisms of the beast were more akin to a pet than he’d like. The line between animal and pest blurred the longer he looked at it.

What if he was wrong? What if this aravo was like the squonk his mother had him hold the blade to? What if this was more misunderstanding, more bullshit indoctrination from his past rather than reality? Did this creature really deserve to die? How far off was it from Wrinkles or even Alex?

Before he could muster up the answer to his many questions, the avaro’s wings fluttered and Kaden knew he had to act. He leapt at the beast and his partner, hoping to wrap the net around the bird-like monster and toss it away from Monty. Only his momentary hesitation was a second too long. The only thing pinned down was the zombie, net tangled around him, while the avaro hovered above them both, squawking, “Okay. That was not me,” in Monty’s voice.

—

Monty couldn’t stop the alarmed yelp that slipped out when the creature hopped off his shoulder and the net found his head instead, letting out a loud oof! as they both hit the ground and the beast just hovered over them, speaking in Monty’s voice again in an almost mocking tone. The cowboy suddenly felt a little less endeared to the thing, and scowled up at it from the forest floor.

He turned his head to look at Kaden and try to whisper something to him, something that the bird hopefully wouldn’t hear, but nothing came out. Confused, he cleared his throat and tried again, but yeah. Nothing. He couldn’t speak.

Suddenly the warning made sense, and Monty’s eyes widened in fear. Was… was he mute now? Forever? Oh god. Oh god. Untangling himself from the net, he glared at the creature that was now flying in circles overhead, squawking and cawing and saying things not only in Monty and Kaden’s voices, but other voices that he didn’t recognize. Maybe other poor mute people that had never been able to get it back. If there was even a way to get it back! He didn’t know, so he looked to Kaden, grabbing the gun that’d fallen beside him. Never mind how cute it was, if he needed to kill this thing to get his voice back, he would.

—

“Putain de merde,” is what Kaden tried to say. It only came out “de merde.”

Yeah fuck this. This avaro took away his putain? This fucking bird had to die. No bleeding hearts to find here anymore. This was completely different from a squonk.

He scrambled to stand, doing his best to help Monty out of the net as he apologized, forgetting that he shouldn’t be speaking at all. His partner was doing a much better job at staying silent through the whole thing. He wasn’t even making any sounds of distress, he was taking it so seriously.

Wait. Monty didn’t know why he should be silent. Meaning more than likely the bird had his boyfriend’s voice. And Kaden was already losing his.

The ranger grabbed the net and prepared to try again. He saw Monty had the shotgun in hand again. Alright, they could do this. He gave the cowboy a nod to the firearm, his own hands holding up the net, hoping that it was enough silent communication to signal the whole plan in his mind.

At this point, the avaro was taunting them, speaking in various stolen voices, saying things like “Can’t catch me. That’s mine. Stupid bird, come back!” Each sentence sounded like another person and Kaden had to wonder how many people had stumbled upon the creature and how many people would get their voices back once it was dead. He could only imagine. Mostly, he just hoped that Monty’s would get back to him safe and sound. He’d heard some strange things happening with alvaro’s in the past and it was hard to say what was true and what was hunter tall tales.

Kaden started to edge his way over to the bird, gripping the net and keeping his eyes on Monty. He held up three fingers where the piece of shit not-parrot couldn’t see and counted them down once he was sure the cowboy was paying attention.

On a silent three, the hunter whipped around and threw the net on top of the monster who screamed in their own voices for him to stop and let go. Kaden didn’t do any such thing and dragged the creature to the ground, wrapped in the mesh of the net, pinned down as best as it was going to be. He just needed Monty to make his shot and not fall into the trap of thinking this was just some pet.

—

Kaden had a plan, and Monty did his best to surmise what that was while stifling his own panic about not being able to speak. He followed his partner with his gaze, watching him count down on his fingers while readying himself with the shotgun, flicking off the safety and waiting to raise it so he didn’t startle the… thing.

Kaden jumped for it and snagged the little shit, pinning it to the ground and waiting for Monty to take the shot. But this was a shotgun, not a pistol, he couldn’t exactly be precise with his aim. So he shook his head, taking a step back. He couldn’t tell Kaden to throw it in the air while still in the net, so he mimed it by swinging the muzzle of the gun up into the air, following it with a jerk of his head, then took another step back and readied himself to fire.

Once his attempt to communicate his own plan was understood and the creature, net and all, was hurled into the air, Monty easily tracked it and fired at the apex of its arc. The animal (no, pest) screeched as it hurtled back to the ground, slamming into the leafy underbrush and letting out a cacophony of screams in all sorts of different voices. When Monty heard his own once more, he scowled and moved closer, aiming at the thrashing heap in the ferns and firing again.

It went still, and he sighed.

—

Monty wanted him to throw it? Did he know this wasn’t skeet shooting and this wasn’t a damn clay pigeon, right? Kaden felt like he should be waiting for his partner to yell “pull” before he tossed the thing but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Instead, he waited until the cowboy looked ready, his shot lined up, and then slung the net and the avaro across the clearing in the forest.

The shot rang out and the screeching that came with that was followed by a small thud as the monster’s body hit the ground. Kaden reached for his knife once he realized there were still murmurs coming from the creature but he needn’t have bothered. Monty had stepped up and shot it dead before he could pull a blade from his back pocket.

The relief that trickled in was interrupted by the prick of panic when he remembered that neither of them had spoken yet.

Moment of truth. “Are you okay?” he asked as he approached his partner. His voice was a little shaky, like standing up again for the first time after hours of sitting down, but it was his, at least as far as he could tell. “Did you get it back?”

—

Monty was hesitant to speak, afraid of the possibility that he might not have gotten it back — honestly, he hadn’t known for sure if that would be the outcome of killing the creature, but it seemed about as plausible as having his voice stolen in the first place. So he’d hoped, as he gunned the thing down, that this wasn’t a pointless kill. He’d feel badly if it had been.

But then Kaden asked, and he at least had the relief of the expected outcome. Still, his throat felt tight. He sucked in a breath (that wasn’t needed but made him feel a little better), and tried to shake away the nerves.

“... I’m… yes,” he answered with a bit of struggling, like he was trying to remember how to form the words with his mouth. “I think so.” Thank god. Now he heaved a sigh of relief, putting the safety back on and lowering the muzzle down toward the ground. “What… the fuck.”

—

At this point it was hard to recall the anger burning in his veins that had brought the two of them out there in the first place. The only thing Kaden could feel was his heart pounding in his chest as he waited with bated breath for a word from Monty. Any word.

The panic that gripped him was slow to fall away while his partner’s voice was still small and unsure. It was fine. He was fine. This was all alright. Maybe if he thought it enough, it would be true. Maybe it would squash the guilt building inside him for taking Monty out here in the first place.

Kaden closed the distance between them in a few swift strides, looking over his partner for any physical injuries as if those would have lingered or meant anything, as if there was some outward indication that all had been righted. “Aravo.” He nodded to the direction of the carcass before reaching out to put a hand at the small of Monty’s back. “They’re mostly harmless. Except for the stealing voices thing.”

Right, that had to be obvious at this point. “As far as I know, killing them is the only way to get them back. I’m…” The words fell away, this time on his own accord. Kaden didn’t know what he was as he stood there beside the cowboy. He was sorry, and worried, and grateful that he was alright, and impressed at how well they’d worked together, and guilty that he’d put him in danger in the first place. All of it all at once. And he didn’t know where to begin now that he was able to speak without fear.

—

He could see each different emotion that passed behind Kaden’s eyes, picking out the more worrisome ones and knowing that he needed to ease them, even if he didn’t feel fully recovered himself. “Hey,” he spoke softly, his voice a little hoarse. “It’s okay. We did what… we came out here to do, ah? But I think we should hedge our bets. Head home while we are still winning.” He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on Kaden’s cheek after rocking up onto his toes. “Maybe we… find our way back to that moment before the aravo interrupted? Hm?” He was trying to clumsily shove some levity back into the situation, ignoring the anxiety that still clawed at the back of his throat. It’d be gone by the time they got back to the farm, he was certain. It had to be. This hadn’t even been life or death, just… something else. Something almost scarier, at least for Monty, who had already lived so much longer than he was meant to.

Reaching for Kaden’s hand after they’d made sure to retrieve anything they’d dropped, Monty decided that the walk back was not going to be treated so much like a hunt, even if it was more dangerous. They both needed a break, he figured. And Kaden seem well-equipped to sense or hear anything that might try to sneak up on them. He wasn’t worried! Not at all. (Maybe just a smidge. They needed to get out of these woods.)

—

He should really be used to it by now but somehow, Kaden was still surprised by how easily his partner could put a smile back on his face, even though it was clear both of them were still a little shaken by the whole thing. “I like the sound of that,” he said, hoping that they could both find that moment from before, that it could make them forget what had just happened. He leaned in to steal another kiss once they were headed on the path out of the forest when another chill ran down the ranger’s spine.

Duty be damned, he wasn’t fucking dealing with anymore monsters. Not today.

“Let’s head home first.” Kaden had every intention of walking ahead, but something stopped him in his tracks. Specifically the word “home.” He’d called the farm home. Alright, sure, Monty had said it first but all the same. Had he done that before? Had Kaden referred to the farmhouse as home before? More unsettling was the fact that it felt right when he said it. Kaden had called it home and it came so easily that it shot a new, different sort of panic from the one from the aravo through him. “I mean, the farm. Not— I mean because I don’t live— Not that I don’t spend a lot of time. Or that— I mean it’s not that I don’t think of it as, um…”

Some part of him fucking wished another goddamn bird would come and take his voice so he would stop fucking talking.

—

Monty felt his brows raising the longer Kaden… well, rambled, for lack of a better word. There was a smirk spreading across his lips as he listened, head nodding in agreement with the statement he thought Kaden was trying to make, in an adorably awkward sort of way. Not that he couldn’t act like he hadn’t been in the hunter’s shoes before, shoving his own foot in his mouth with his inability to articulate his thoughts. Though this seemed more like the result of his fear of overstepping than anything. Which was sweet, in its way.

He gave Kaden’s hand a squeeze, peering up at him from beneath the brim of his hat. “It… could be home. If you want. More than it… already is.” It might have been a more terrifying prospect if they hadn’t already been cohabitating so frequently. He’d been nervous at first, but over the year and a few months they’d known each other, it had gotten easier and easier until he didn’t really think about it except for on the mornings when Kaden wasn’t there—when he had no need for the routines they’d built together. No reason to brew coffee, no reason to pull ingredients from the fridge for breakfast (since Kaden was the far superior cook between them), no reason for… a lot of things. It was a simple freshening up before the work day started and lacked all the calming, enjoyable quietness of the first hour or so after Kaden woke up. Even sending him off to his own job was an enjoyable thing, at least compared to his complete absence in the mornings. There was a feeling of having taken care of someone you loved, a feeling Monty had become much more familiar with since coming to Wicked’s Rest.

“But it is okay if not! I do not mean to pressure you.”

—

Kaden repeated the words in his head a few times over. It could be home. It sounded so simple when Monty said it. And he seemed so calm about it, too. Alright, maybe part of that was because he didn’t have a pulse that could give away his emotions like the hunter did. But he had a feeling it was something more than that, possibly the fact that it was Monty saying it at all that made it seem simple.

He ran the prospect over in his mind a few times. Well, a few times more than he had subconsciously in the past however long it had been since he discovered he had more clothes at the farmhouse than the cabin more often than not. The cabin that had so quickly felt like home when Alex and Andy were there had been quieter and emptier for months now. And it wasn’t just because of their absence but his own, too.

He knew Alex would be back at some point. At least, that’s what he’d hoped, and he wanted to keep a space for her to come back to when she did. The longer time went on, the more it felt like he could do that without living at the cabin himself. But in all the times he’d thought about relocating to the farmhouse, it had almost been temporary, a foot half in and half out, just in case. Was Kaden ready to bite the bullet and admit he didn’t really live in the cabin he’d shared with his cousins anymore?

Looking down into familiar brown eyes, it all felt simple. “Let’s go home,” he repeated, a smile beaming on his face as he tipped back Monty’s hat and finally leaned in to grab the kiss he’d been eager to steal this whole damn time.

#. thread ;#. with ; kaden langley #. yeecaw! ;#gun use tw

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carriedghosts · 1 year ago

Text

Rat nods as he flips through the pages, actually finding what he could understand interesting. The pictures were neat, at least, and he could understand those just fine. He shuts the magazine to pay better attention to Jarod, almost envious of the daughter he described. She seemed to have a vision in life, a purpose, something he lacked as a kid. He himself didn’t know what he wanted to be, even with his various interests, as he was often discouraged from it. Being a cowboy or superhero was silly, he was told.

When the taxi driver shares that his daughter passed, Rat can’t help but bite anxiously on his bottom lip, unsure of how to approach. He’s lost people he’d loved himself. People who are very dear to him, much like Jarod’s daughter was to him. It was clear to see it was a similar grief, perhaps a similar loss, too. And yet, they were different. He couldn’t assume that they felt the same or reacted the same, but he still felt the need to try and comfort the older man. “I’m sorry for your loss. You, uh, sound like you were a good dad. Lovin’ and carin’.”

He’s not sure how to go about it, but he continues anyways, trying to not let morbid curiosity get the best of him. “I’ve…also lost loved ones. The pain is crazy, isn’t it? It’s like we never stop grievin’…but I think havin’ these emotions makes us human. I’d be scared if someone didn’t get sad or mad over it.” Rat learned some of these phrases and lessons from people over the years. He’s heard some less helpful ones, too, so he’s careful not to parrot those off. Falling silent for a few moments, he tries to think of a way to switch subjects, not wanting the atmosphere to become too sad or awkward.

“So, what’s your favorite dinosaur?”

▸ @achangin ⟶ ❛ How’d you get into this stuff? ❜ ╱ ( ncis , accepting . )

Rat is looking over one of Jarod’s dinosaur magazines, which he, of course, encourages—that is why they are there. He loves to see people pick them up and then engage them in conversation about the contents. Many of them are fairly old; new dinosaur magazines do not get published often because there are not many new things going on in the world of paleontology these days. Every once in a while, scientists discover a new dinosaur, but there is rarely enough material to fill up an entire magazine.

“My daughter,” he answers softly. “She always loved dinosaurs when she was a kid, and most of ‘em grow out of it. But she wanted to be a paleontologist right up until…” He pauses and frowns, considering whether he should get into that right now. But he realizes he has never failed to mention Lola’s fate when it naturally comes up in conversation like this, so he proceeds. “...right up until she passed away.”

#( ic. )#paleontaxi

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maxwell-grant · 2 years ago

Note

If you're still doing the character opinion bingo... N'Doul, please? :D

The N'Doul fight is an all-timer in the series for sure and a pretty stark contrast with later Stand battles, where 90% of the challenge was figuring out how the Stand works so they can counter it. Geb is as simple as Stands can get, conceptually, it’s major advantage being how it benefits from the terrain and N'Doul's own cleverness. He's an excellent introduction to Egypt as the place where shit is gonna get real for the Crusaders, almost taking out the entire party and even disabling Kakyoin all the way to the finale, only beaten by the recent addition of Iggy into the mix. He's a very solid villain and an optimal choice as a entry-level showcase of "this is what a JJBA fight looks like", not surprising that this was the first fight to be adapted into animation as well.

N'Doul and most of the other 9 Glory Gods benefit a lot from Part 3 being saturated with colorful one-note baddies for the Crusaders to routinely beat, because it does wind up making him stick out all the more with his taciturn, focused personality, perfectly befitting a fight that’s entirely based on tense silence punctuated by sudden quick viciousness. A lot of what makes N'Doul memorable is because of that contrast between him and most of the other minions of DIO personality-wise as well as visually, because he's designed to be attractive in a way comparable to Kakyoin, and that throws off your brain a little when you're used to the Crusaders dealing with terribly-dressed sneering cartoons.

To a better extent than Hol Horse, N'Doul wouldn't look at all out of place among the Crusaders as an ally. I’d even say that, in a way, N’Doul reads to me now as a prototype for Enrico Pucci, in the sense of him being this solemn, driven young man with a tragic background driven into DIO’s arms by a need for salvation, and having a number of similarities with the heroes that only serve to punctuate the tragedy that is their suicidal allegiance to evil. I think it’s something that Araki’s been flirting with since Bruford in Part 1 and that saw it’s real potential taking form with Pucci, with N’Doul as the important middle step as someone who was driven to evil out of loneliness and lack of purpose and despair and being manipulated by someone who knew how to prey on his basic human needs. It’s with characters like N’Doul and Wammu that you see Araki first experimenting with that moral greyness he’d eventually make much more extensive use of as the series went along.

What I like most about N'Doul, though, is what he does for the narrative as an enemy for Jotaro to overcome in particular. As the Samurai to Jotaro’s Cowboy, the two get to have a wonderful showdown moment befitting that vibe, and more so than that, I think N’Doul works great as a showcase for Jotaro’s character development because he’s an enemy that Jotaro ends up getting emotionally invested in, an enemy that does go some way towards changing him. More specifically, I think of N’Doul as kind of the benchmark for Jotaro’s growth, the point that fully marks how Jotaro stopped being “just” the next JoJo and fully cemented himself as Jotaro Kujo, the iconic hero in his own right.

This probably has more to do with Araki’s changing tastes and likely not intentional but, I’ve been rewatching Part 3 recently and it just never stops feeling weird hearing Jotaro be called “JoJo” for much of the beginning. Obviously the series needs to keep the JoJo name going, and we’d sat through two other sagas starring guys everyone called JoJo, but with Jotaro, it just constantly feels discomforting, impersonal even. It’s a name that nobody actually close to him calls him, tied to a bloodline he has no connection to until that connection starts killing his mom. He gets called JoJo by his annoying classmates and his distant grandfather and the Crusaders he barely knows at first, and as the part progresses and they become closer and we spend more time with Jotaro, everyone calls him by his actual name. But at first, that name is an antiquated leftover, something that just points to Jotaro as just The Next JoJo and not his own person, a guy who’s just part of the story without belonging in it, if that makes sense.

Because Jotaro’s initially defined a lot by that distance between him and the greater history of conflict he’s getting dragged into. He didn’t grow up with Dio or stories about him, he didn’t take up martial arts to save the world, and unlike with Joseph, the vampire asshole hurting his family didn’t even have the decency to show up at his front door first before trying to kill him. He was just a high school student with an attitude problem one day, and then out of nowhere he gets “possessed” by an unfathomably dangerous thing that pushes him to lock himself up in jail for everyone else’s sake, and next thing he knows, he has to travel across the world with his grandpa and some other guys he barely knows, avoiding superpowered murderers every hour of every day with no rest, so he can go kill some evil thing he didn’t even know existed, because otherwise his mom’s gonna die.

And it’s through the course of Part 3 that we see him grow as a person and as a fighter, grow closer to the Crusaders who all start to know him better than anyone else ever did. We see him become the guy that evildoers around the world fear, we see how he owns that legacy he has within the Joestar bloodline and the destiny that comes with it, and in the following parts Jotaro takes over Joseph’s role as the main tether to it that everyone else has, older and more responsible and carrying that weight on his shoulders (for better or worse and, by the time of Part 6, definitely for the worse).

And I think it is N’Doul who really starts this transition for him on-screen because of how he shakes things up, not merely because he’s more than just another bloodthirsty maniac among the dozens Jotaro’s beaten up over the past days, but because he’s someone so devoted to that evil thing that he kills himself in front of Jotaro. Jotaro had seen people die, he’d seen DIO’s subordinates be offed in front of him, but this is the first time he sees someone commit actual suicide in front of him over DIO, and he’s powerless to save him as he did for Kakyoin and Polnareff (while this is probably not intentional, the fact that Star Platinum exhibited enough strength to smash car-sized diamonds and punch holes straight through DIO definitely makes it seem like Jotaro was pulling his punches quite a bit over the part)

Jotaro meets N’Doul, a man with virtues and qualities that Jotaro recognizes enough to feel some kind of kinship towards him, and he has to watch that man skewer his brains out in front of him using his own Stand. We don’t really get much talkative introspection out of Jotaro in general because of the way he’s written but, prior to the N’Doul fight, the only other time we’d been allowed enough into Jotaro’s headspace was a brief moment in the Death 13 arc where Jotaro reflects that he’s 4.000 miles from home and it’s been 4 weeks and he’s getting worried they won’t make it in time. As in, his driving motivation still remains just getting to DIO in time to save his mom. Obviously not something anyone can criticize him for worrying about but,

In the aftermath of the N’Doul fight, we see Jotaro thinking about DIO specifically, really the first time we see him even address him proper after the beginning where he doesn’t even think DIO exists. DIO is weighing on his mind, he wonders what kind of man is he, the kind of power he has over people’s minds, what other horrors he’s gonna throw their way. He gets emotional yelling at a dying N’Doul and asking him to tell him why, why are you killing yourselves for that man, why is this worth dying for to you people, and N’Doul uses his dying breath to open up about his background and power, and give him the Evil Savior speech. And I think this is kind of when Jotaro finally internalizes what kind of power DIO has, something that makes him existentially monstrous and dangerous on a bigger level than just the things he’s done to his family and friends, or to countless others before and now, or that he’s causing to his mom right this second, or even that he’s done to the fanatics under his thrall he’d sent to die fighting them.

Enya was one thing, and all the Crusaders were pretty shaken about that even then, but this? That’s the kind of thing that gets Jotaro to make a grave, because there’s nothing else he could possibly do, for a guy he’d just seen rip off the faces of innocent people and blind his friend. For a guy that Jotaro didn’t want to kill, a guy who really, really didn’t have to die, a guy who could have been something else, something better, really just something at all, other than just another corpse with DIO’s name on it.

I think of this as the moment where Jotaro truly internally grows into the hero of the story, as the only one who could stop DIO. Who came to understand DIO a little better than the others. Jotaro grows to be DIO’s nemesis not just because he’s equally powerful, or equally determined, or better at stacking up bullshit tricks to win fights, but because he refuses for even a second to entertain DIO, because he'd seen again and again the horrors DIO can wreak if he gets even an inch worth of breathing room (and it STILL doesn’t stop Jotaro from falling for DIO’s bullshit and almost dying in DIO’s World). There is no history between the two as there was with Jonathan, nothing other than savagery and hatred. DIO’s been shitting over everything and everyone for years and it just so happens that Jotaro was given a mop to clean it up. Jotaro was the enemy DIO deserved.

At no point did Jotaro get a choice in the matter, when it came to entering this journey, it was either this or sitting by watching his family die. But here, we see how personally he’ staking it to oppose DIO for reasons other than his mom’s predictament. Iit’s also important that, immediately following N’Doul’s burial and Jotaro’s thinking, we get the scene where he bonds with Iggy, saying he’s not mad for Iggy having screwed him over during the fight and that he doesn’t blame Iggy for being pissed that he got dragged away from home to fight in the desert, and extending the gum as an olive branch, a pretty far cry from what the self-proclaimed “nobody ever said Jotaro Kujo was nice" guy from early in the part would have done (also not an inaccurate way to describe what Jotaro himself went through, no wonder he’s the first to sympathize with Iggy).

Though his trials were countless, it was N’Doul that most prepared Jotaro mentally for the battle against DIO and his unending evil, not just in Cairo, but in the following decades. And I think of N’Doul’s burial as the moment that made Jotaro choose, of his own volition, to step up into his role as DIO’s Enemy, for all the good that would do him. Maybe evil needs a savior, but so do those who need to be saved from it.

I realize I spent most of this post about N’Doul talking about Jotaro but honestly I do think of that as a mark of him being a great villain, I think he brought out something real special out of Jotaro as a character during that fight.

#replies tag #character opinion bingo #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo #stardust crusaders #jojo part 3 #n'doul #jotaro kujo #jotaro

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soundcrusher · 2 years ago

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A trip to the Amusement Park!

Oh, what's this? Part 6 of season 2 of my ongoing story set in the sentient SG/LL au from @cuppajj at the same day I posted part 5? Well, would you believe me if I said that I was very motivated to make two parts today?

Either way, I hope all of you like the boys having some fun and Phoenix finally getting to act like a normal kid.

Trigger Warning: none

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Rodimus was right, Phoenix wasn’t happy about having to leave the first planet behind. In fact, this might have been the first time his little brother had ever glared at him, let alone raised his voice at him for leaving Softstreet and Fungus without ever saying goodbye. But Rodimus could understand it. He could understand Phoenix, and he could understand why his brother was angry at him. Finally, Phoenix had found a place where he could be himself without having to worry about others hating him for looking like Rodimus, and they had to leave. Rodimus didn’t even tell Phoenix why they had to leave. He thought that it would be better if he waited a little while, before revealing that they have been found by Thrillchaser. Especially with Phoenix’s nightmares getting worse with each passing day.

Ever since the youngling realized that the Stranger and Lightlost were one and the same, Phoenix’s dreams have become one twisted nightmare after the other. If his brother didn't wake up screaming his spark out, he would start crying in his sleep before opening his optics and curling up tightly in Rodimus’ arms. Refusing to go to sleep unless Rodimus promised time and time again that he wouldn’t leave him alone with Lightlost. That he would stay with him. That he wouldn’t let them hurt him again. And Rodimus, despite knowing that he can’t promise these things for sure, still swore on his spark that nothing would ever hurt him ever again.

This is also why Rodimus decided that the next planet they would land on, was one mostly known as a ‘Decepticon Planet’. It mostly meant that this planet was part of the Decepticon’s faction during the war, despite it housing more neutral Cybertronians than anything else. Either way, Rodimus still put on the cowboy hat and poncho he got from Fungus, and made Phoenix do the same. Even though he knew that this get-up wouldn’t fool anyone, Rodimus still hoped that it would, at least, make them blend in better with the crowd. Most of the neutrals on this planet did wear something similar to human hats and cloaks after all.

“Roddy? Why are we… here?” Asked Phoenix, after stepping out of their ship for the first time since weeks. The youngling didn’t really feel like going out much anymore, ever since his nightmares became worse. “And why are we wearing the things Fungus gave us?”

Rodimus smirked as he used his thumb to push up his cowboy hat. “Well, we’re wearing this, because most mechs and femmes on this planet wear hats and cloaks, and I don’t want us to stick out like a turbofox in a Robo-chicken coop.” Dang it, Fungus' speech has infected his processor. Damn that old farm wolf! Either way, he shouldn’t curse that mech. Not when has been the first positive influence in a long time… next to Phoenix. “And we’re here, because I thought that you might like visiting an amusement park.” Said Rodimus, as he grabbed Phoenix’s servo and started to lead him away from the ship and towards one big shiny gate with many lights on it.

“What's an amusement park?” Asked Phoenix, as he looked up at the prime with that adorably confused face only he could pull off. A look that sent Rodimus squealing internally, while remaining cool and collected on the outside. “An amusement park,” explained Rodimus, “is something where you go to have fun. It has many different rides, booths, stalls, and other fun things to have, well, fun with. I thought it might help you with taking your mind off of things.” He said, before walking over to the ticket booth and getting two tickets. One for Phoenix and one for him. After that, they entered and Rodimus had to bite back a laugh, as he saw how Phoenix’s eyes widen in pure amazement and wonder.

Sometimes he forgets that Phoenix was still a kid…

“Alright. What do you want to do first? There are some good rides around here. Like this one roller coaster that goes really fast, I think it’s called the Blitzflügel, or there’s that ride called Zero Gravity. That one’s really fast too. Or…” While Rodimus went on with listing off every fast ride in the amusement park, Phoenix let his optics wander. Looking at everything that wasn’t trying to break any speed records, or launching someone into the sky. And the youngling did find the right ride.

A Merry go Round with Cybertronian animals to ride on and bright lights flashing in rhythm with the music. Overall, it was mesmerizing from the first moment the youngling laid his optics on it. And despite it not being on Rodimus’ list, Phoenix wanted that ride to be his first one. So, he tugged at his brother’s servo, before pointing over to the colorful ride.

“That one.” Was the only warning Rodimus got, before he was dragged by an excited young spark over to a ride too slow for his own taste. But when he looked down at Phoenix, while they were waiting in line, and saw the sheer excitement in those optics, while his brother tried his best not to start jumping up and down from excitement, Rodimus found himself accepting his fate. Which meant he was sitting on one of the side benches while watching Phoenix excitedly searching for the right cyber-animal to ride on, choosing a Cyberhorse, and squealing in excitement as soon as the Merry go Round started. And after the ride was over, Phoenix already had set his eyes on the Bumper Boats. And after that ride, it was off to the Scooters. And then, finally, Rodimus managed to convince Phoenix to go on some Roller Coasters with him.

Although, as soon as they got to the Blitzflügel, Phoenix started to get scared. So much so that Rodimus offered to skip the ride, but the youngling only shook his head at the suggestions. “How about you go on the ride, and I wait here?” Asked Phoenix, before quickly adding. “I won’t move too far away and I’m going to stay out of trouble. I promise!” Rodimus was unsure, but he couldn’t stop Phoenix from pushing him towards the Roller Coaster while pointing out how he sat out theMerry go Round and how it would only be fair if he did the same. So, with a sigh, Rodimus simply nodded and walked towards the Blitzflügel, while Phoenix went and sat down on one of the benches.

However, the youngling didn’t stay where he was for long. No, he soon enough stood up and took a look at some of the boots and stalls standing in a line. Some had fun games to play, some sold food, and then there was one stall with two manning it. A big one with four arms and a small one with funny things on his shoulders and…. was that a turbofox by his side!

The promise he gave was completely forgotten, as he made his way over to the booth. Pushing himself through the crowd of park visitors, before ending up on the other side and before the booth. Taking a look at the various flyers for a charity supporting victims of the war, before looking at the two mechs and waving. “Hello, can I play with your turbofox?”

Helex was surprised to see someone approach their booth, let alone talk to them. After all, they weren’t as well visited as other booths around the area. Mostly because everyone wanted to do something fun and not be reminded of the war that plagued their race for millions of years. Then again, they did tend to get the attention of some, as soon as they saw Dominus. But usually they would ask what a turbofox was doing here and not if they could play with him.

“Ehm… I am not sure. He doesn’t like unknown mechs and femmes…” Said the tall cybertronian, as he saw the disappointment slowly settle on the younglings face. At least, he thought he saw it. It was hard to tell with that big hat covering most of his face. “A-ah, but maybe I can interest you in one of our cookies? The Shanix we get from them is used to support various charity organizations.” That seemed to get the kid’s interest, because he was now looking at the various flavors they offered and no longer looking disappointed. “How much Shanix do they cost?” Asked the youngling, to which Helex answered. “Usually as much as someone wants to donate, but we settled on 5 Shanix a box, because some don’t want to give us more than that.”

“Can I have one box?” Asked the kid, to which Helex nodded and handed over one of the cookies flavors most popular with younger Cybertronians. “Thank you sir! Oh, and here, you can keep the change. Goodbye to the three of you!” Chirped the kid happily before taking the box of cookies from Helex and placing 100 Shanix down in the open servo. After that, he made his way back through the crowd, while the two members of the DJD suddenly had their servos full with mechs and femmes coming over, after seeing someone buy cookies from them.

Although, none of them noticed the turbofox raising his head and watching the youngling go back to where he came from.

…

The Blitzflügel was a fast ride, Rodimus had to admit that much, but it wasn't fast enough for him. Or maybe he had put too much faith in a ride he never rode on. Yes, that’s probably it.

“I think you were right with not going on that ride Phoenix, it wasn’t that… interesting…” Said Rodimus, after sitting down next to Phoenix, but as soon as he saw the box of cookies and his brother happily munching on one of them, he started to trail off. Where did Phoenix manage to get cookies from? Did he miss a stall? One especially made to sell this type of treat? “Well I guess someone was hungry.” Chuckled the prime, as he took the cookie Phoenix handed to him. Eating it slowly while thinking about where they could go next. The Ferris Wheel was an option, but he wanted to keep that for the end. So, that only left the various game booths. Booths he was sure were rigged, but he was Rodimus Prime, he sure could win some of the games.

And he sure couldn’t win any of the games ,and neither could Phoenix. No matter which gaming booth they visited, be it the various ‘Roll a Ball’, ‘Balloon Balls’, ‘Ring a Bottle’, ‘Shoot the Cyber-Duck’ or anything similar to that, both of them just didn’t seem to win. And if he had to see one more smug looking booth operator looking at him after losing his third game, and talking down to Phoenix for being a ‘shitty player’, Rodimus wouldn’t promise not to beat the smugness out of them. Primus and Unicron, he might as well strangle them, until they just handed them the prizes. Maybe then they would finally win something. Either way, they still had to try the claw machines scattered around the amusement park, but none of them seemed to hold any prize his brother liked. Until they came across one machine with plush toys from earth.

“Roddy… Can I have that one?” Asked Phoenix, as he softly pulled on Rodimus’ servos and pointed over to the big shark laying ontop of all the other plushies. And despite it looking like an easy win, Rodimus still sighed and shook his head. “Sorry, but I don’t think I could get that one. Not with the luck we’ve had with all the other games we tried.”

“Maybe I can help!” Said someone from behind them. And with the voice sounding like one he’s heard before, Rodimus quickly turned around, while pushing Phoenix behind himself.

The prime took one look at the Decepticon before him and groaned internally. Of course it had to be someone from the DJD. Was this Primus or Unicron’s punishment to him for leaving Phoenix alone, while he rode the Blitzflügel? If so, his luck really was walking out on him today. Or, at least partially, because Tesarus didn’t seem to recognize them, well, him. (Rodimus really has to thank Fungus for the cowboy hats and ponchos the next time he sees them.)

“Are you good with claw machines?” Asked Phoenix, as he stepped out from behind Rodimus, before the prime could stop the youngling. “Because I want that big gray and white thing on top of all the other soft looking animals.”

“You want the shark?” Asked Tesarus, before grinning. “Nothing easier than that kiddo!” Said the mech, before putting some Shanix into the machine and trying to get the shark. All the while Rodimus had to explain to Phoenix what a shark was, and Phoenix getting even more excited at the prospect of getting the toy. Although, Phoenix’s excitement turned into disappointment as he saw Tesarus nearly getting the toy, only for it to fall so that its head was laying over the opening where the toy was supposed to fall in and its body still with the rest of the other plushies.

“Hey, don’t look so down kid. You gotta stay jaw-sitive, because you’ll de-fin-itely get that shark.” Said Tesarus, which caused Phoenix to chuckle and Rodimus to roll his optics. Although, true to the Decepticons words, the youngling did get the shark. Even though it took them some tries. But who was counting, when the youngspark was smiling like a kid on christmas as he hugged the plush shark tightly to his chestplate. Saying a quick, ‘Thank you!’ to Tesarus, while Rodimus quickly pulled him away and towards the exit of the park.

It was time to go after all, and now that Rodimus knew that the DJD was walking around, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to stay any longer in this park, let alone on this planet.

And Phoenix was already looking tired. So, they wouldn’t have stayed longer either way.

While the brothers were walking out of the park and back to where they left their ship, none of them noticed the Turbofox quietly following them.

--0--0--0--0--0--0--0--0--0--0--0--

“Kaon?”

“Yes Helex?”

“I don’t want to alarm you… but where is Dominus?”

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thimbil · 3 years ago

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Having some thoughts about the references and inspirations used for the Bad Batch’s designs.

So Boba Fett is my absolute favorite character and Temeura Morrison was perfect casting. I went to see the 2008 TCW movie in theaters because I was so excited to see him again, even if he was animated. You can imagine my disappointment. Whoever was on screen was not Temeura Morrison. You could sort of see a resemblance if you squinted and didn’t think too hard about it. They replaced Temeura with Racially Ambiguous G.I. Joe. If I didn’t know better and someone told me the animated clones are space Italians from the moon of New Jersey I would buy it. One Million Brothers Pizzeria and Italian Bistro. Not that there’s something wrong with being space Italian, I just don’t think it’s the right choice for the Fetts. The design got slightly improved by season 7 but it still bugs the hell out of me.

I did eventually get into the show later and (of course) got invested in the clones. Unfortunately, they were largely sidelined by the Jedi storylines. Out of the two new main characters created for TCW, Ahsoka definitely got more development and focus than Rex. When they announced The Bad Batch, I was excited to see a show specifically devoted to the clones… at least that’s what it said on the tin. We have all seen what lurks beneath those stylish helmets.

Jango Fett, you are NOT the father.

So who is?

Based on interviews with Filoni, it sounds like the Bad Batch was a George Lucas idea. And like all his ideas, it’s super derivative. The original trilogy directly lifted elements from sci fi serials, westerns, and samurai movies, more specifically Kurosawa films like The Hidden Fortress. For The Bad Batch character designs, the influence is obviously American action and adventure movies.

Now let’s get specific. Bad Batch, who’s your daddy?

Hunter

Sylvester Stallone as Rambo in First Blood 1982. That bandana has become an integral part of the iconic action hero look. You see a character wearing one and it’s a visual shorthand for either “this character is a tough guy” like Billy played by Sonny Landham in Predator 1987, or “this character thinks he is/wants to be a tough guy” like Brand played by Josh Brolin in The Goonies 1985 or Edward Frog played by Corey Feldman in The Lost Boys 1987.

Hunter’s model is closest to the original clone base. If you look closely you will see the eyebrows are straighter with a much lower angle to the arch. His nose is also not the same shape as a standard clone like Rex, including a narrower bridge. It’s certainly not Temeura Morrison’s nose. Remember what I said about space Italians? It didn’t take much to push the existing clone design to resemble an specific Italian man instead of a specific Māori man. The 23&Me came back, and Hunter inherited more than the bandana from Sylvester.

Crosshair

The long narrow nose, the sharp cheekbones, the scowl. That’s no clone, that’s just animated Clint Eastwood. Not even Young and Hot Clint Eastwood from Rawhide 1959-1965. With that hair, I’m talking Gran Torino 2008. The man of few words schtick and family friendly toothpick in lieu of cigar are pure Eastwood as The Man With No Name from Sergio Leone’s spaghetti westerns A Fist Full of Dollars 1964, For a Few Dollars More 1965, and The Good the Bad and the Ugly 1966.

In a way, this is full circle because the actor Jeremy Bulloch took inspiration from Clint Eastwood for his performance as Boba Fett in ESB.

Wrecker

In an interview Filoni lists the Hulk as an (obvious) inspiration for Wrecker. Ever seen the old Hulk tv show from 1978? Well take a look at the actor who played him, Lou Ferrigno. Would you look at that. Even has his papa’s nose.

You could make the argument that Wrecker was influenced by The Rock, an appropriately buff ‘n bald Polynesian (Samoan, not Maori) man. But look at him next his Fast and Furious costar Vin Diesel and tell me which one resembles Wrecker’s character model more.

Tech

Tech is a little trickier for me to place. If he has a more direct inspiration it must be something I haven’t seen. That said, his hairline is very Bruce Willis as John McClane in Die Hard 1988. His quippiness and large glasses remind me of Shane Black as Hawkins from Predator 1987. In terms of his face, he looks a but like the result of McClane and Hawkins deciding to settle down and start a family. Although, Tech’s biggest contributors are probably just everyone on TV Trope’s list for Smart People Wear Glasses.

And finally,

Echo

Oh Echo. Considering he wasn’t created for the Bad Batch, he probably wasn’t based on a particular character or movie. But if I had to guess, his situation and appearance remind me a lot of Alex Murphy played by Peter Weller in Robocop 1987. However, Robocop explored the Man or Machine Identity Crisis with more nuance, depth, and dignity. Yikes.

The exact tropes and references used in The Bad Batch have been done successfully with characters who aren’t even human. Gizmo from Gremlins 2: The New Batch 1990 had a brief stint with the Rambo bandana. I could have picked any number of characters for Defining Feature Is Glasses but here is the most cursed version of Simon of Alvin and the Chipmunks. Suffer as I have. Marc Antony with his beloved Pussyfoot from Looney Tunes has the same tough guy with a soft center vibe as Wrecker and his Lula (also a kind of cat). Hell, in the same show we have Cad Bane sharing Cowboy Clint Eastwood with Crosshair. I actually think Bane makes a better Eastwood which is wild considering Crosshair has Eastwood’s entire face and Bane is blue.

So we’ve established you don’t need your characters to look exactly like their inspirations to match their vibe. So why go through the trouble and cost of creating completely new character designs instead of recycling and altering assets they already had on hand? Just slap on a bandana, toothpick, goggles, and make Wrecker bigger than the others while he does a Hulk pose and you’re done. Based on the general reaction to Howzer it would have been a low effort slam dunk crowd pleaser.

But they didn’t do that.

So here’s the thing. I like the tropes used in The Bad Batch. I am a fan of action adventure movies from the 80s-90s, the sillier the better. I am part of the Bad Batch’s target audience. Considering what I know about Disney and Lucasfilm, I went in with low expectations. I genuinely don’t hate the idea of seeing references to these actors and media in The Bad Batch. I don’t think basing these characters on tropes was a bad idea. If anything it’s a solid starting point for building the characters.

The trouble is nothing got built on the foundation. The plot is directionless, the pacing is wacky, and the characters have nearly no emotional depth or defining character arcs. They just sort of exist without reacting much while the story happens around them. But I can excuse all of that. You don’t stay a fan of Star Wars as long as I have not being able to cherrypick and fill in the gaps. This show has a deeper issue that shouldn’t be ignored.

Why do the animated clones bear at best only a passing resemblance to their live action actor? In interviews, Filoni wouldn’t shut up but the technological advancements in the animation for season 7. So if they are updating things, why not try to make the clones a closer match to their source material? Why did they have to look like completely different people in The Bad Batch to be “unique”? Looking like Temeura Morrison would have no bearing on their special abilities and TCW proved you can have identical looking characters and still have them be distinct. In fact, that’s a powerful theme and the source of tragedy for the clones’ narrative overall.

Here’s Filoni’s early concept art of Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech, and Hunter. (Interesting but irrelevant: Wrecker seems to have a cog tattoo similar to Jesse’s instead of a scar. Wouldn’t it have been funny if they kept that so when they met in season 7 one if them could say something like “Hey we’re twins!” That’s a little clone humor. Just for you guys 😘)

None of these drawings look like the clones in TCW, much less Temeura Morrison. Let’s be generous. Maybe Filoni struggles with drawing a real person’s likeness, as many people do. But he had to hand this off to other artists down the line whose job specifically involves making a stylized character resemble their actor. Yet the final designs missed the mark almost as much as this initial concept. Starting to seem as if the clones looking more like Temeura Morrison was never even on the table. It wasn’t a lack of creativity, skill or technical limitations on the part of the creative team. I don’t think there is an innocent explanation. They went out of their way to make the final product exactly how we got it.

This goes beyond homage. They could have made the same pop culture references and character tropes without completely stripping Temeura Morrison from the role he originated. It was a very purposeful choice to replace him with more immediately familiar actors from established franchises and films. It wouldn’t shock me if Filoni, Lucas, and anyone else calling the shots didn’t even think hard or care enough about the decision to immediately recognize a problem. And I don’t think they believed anyone else would either. At least no one whose opinion they cared about. Those faces are comfortingly familiar and proven bankable. They are what we’re all used to seeing after all. They’re white.

Lack of imagination, bad intentions, or simple ignorance doesn’t really matter in the end. The result is the same. Call it what it is. They replaced a man of color with a bunch of white guys. That’s by the book garden variety run of the mill whitewashing. There’s no debate worth having about it. For a fanbase that loves to nitpick things like whether or not it’s in character for Han to shoot first or Jeans Guy in the Mandalorian, we sure are quick to find excuses for clones who look nothing like their template. Why is that? If you don’t see the problem, congratulations. Your ass is showing. Pull your jeans up.

#star wars #the bad batch #unwhitewashtbb #wrecker #crosshair #tech #hunter #echo

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sprinklesandshatters · 3 years ago

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A Review on NCT 127′s 3rd Album <Sticker>

So NCT 127 just came back with their 3rd Full Album <Sticker> and this is my first 127 comeback since I became a fan last year! Neozone is such a special album for me as it was their first album that I explored entirely. I've known NCT as the group who never fails any expectations so I've kept mine up although I know they'll exceed it anyway. And guess what, they did! I absolutely love their new album hence this review~

This isn't a technical music review—as I am not a musician myself—but rather a listener's honest takes, goofy notes, and interpretation on each of the tracks in the album. I admit I've also struggled to build my own opinions on some of the tracks until I listened to them over and over again.

I have also heard there are mixed opinions on the title track <Sticker> and a lot says it's another acquired taste. But I think it's not just that, as it can be a grower, just like how most of NCT's songs were for me. Maybe after a few listens and a right passage of time, it will grow on those people. The bottom line here is, I like it a lot! 😛

So I listed down the songs according to their respective track numbers and followed each with a bulleted list of my opinions and interpretations.

(Viewer/reader discretion: before you continue, minors, do not interact as there are few 18+ contents under the cut. Thank you.)

1. Sticker

THEY DIDN'T JUST PUNCH A NEW NOTCH ON THE BELT LIKE THAT

THIS SONG SLAPS, LITERALLY SLAPS… AND WHIPS

The recorder at the intro boyyyy I thought something was wrong but then I remember it’s NCT lmao

It already stuck in my head from my first listen from the Instagram audio.

With Taeyong opening the verse with his divine rapping, I knew I'm in for a new ride.

STICK-UH STICK-UGH STICK-UGHGHGH

To those complaining it sounding like noise music, imagine it sounding generic. I don't think it would fit as the title track. Not a b-track or in their repertoire, even. They are called NCT because they define the NEO in the music culture and music technology!

It honestly was an unorthodox, just like all of their title tracks, which I’m inherently here for.

Literally, no one does it like them!

The growls and the vocal flexes and adlibs! (You can tell it has Yoo Youngjin's brand.)

The crisp metronome sound that’s consistently ticking except for the pre-chorus and the dance break adds depth to the soundscape. I love how it’s used instead of the usual snaps.

The production quality blew my mind. Like how can someone think those melodies would sound so exquisite? CAN I CALL THEM GENIUS?

The piano at the back, oh my God—Yes! It adds this mystifying element to the song.

I'm not sure if it's a midi violin at the pre-chorus, but it added thrill to the song. It was a great transition from the bass line in the verses to the combination of the flawless harmony with the same instrumental.

"You treat me like a boy, like a grown-up child chasing a dream" JUNGWOO BABY NO MORE HUH

Taeil, Doyoung, and Haechan—the bridge vocal trinity!

But why the heck are they cowboys? I dig the concept, but why? LMAO

BTW GUNSLINGER MARK I’M ON MY KNEES YEEHAW

This is easily one of my favorite tracks from NCT 127's entire discography 💚

2. Lemonade

(⌐■_■)

Jaehyun starting off this song with his deep voice eee

The song opens to a verse oozing with chill confidence. They're like, yeah you're lurking because we’re cool.

This is such a huge slap to their haters. NCT's not chillin' like a villain, nah they're the main characters!

Well maybe they’re villains, but still ya not cooler than them ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Funny enough how they could have just referred haters as simply lemons whose sour/bitter to the taste, but 127 squad's success is sweeter than all the haters' spiteful remarks so yeah, SIPPY SIPPY LEMONADE 🧃

"WOOF"

I might have just barked too wOW

Yuta’s vocals hooooO his voice just sounds so glamorous mhmm

Also Mark referencing their previous title tracks such as: Firetruck, Cherry Bomb, and Regular (it's Irregular in the lyrics) in his rap part 👌💅

I just love Mark's energy when he raps. HE RESOLUTELY BITES AND STRAIGHT UP EATS EVERY TIME HE DOES.

3. Breakfast

Now breakfast time, oh jeez!

AAAHAHFU—

Summer 127's bestie!

If Summer 127 talks about dancing all night long, Breakfast is the morning after.

You know what it is.

"Even if I gulp and drink you, it's not enough for me." oho Taeyong no you ha—STOP

Sexual innuendos aside, isn't it just sweet if someone tells you they'd want to have breakfast with you every day? Okay maybe I'm melting at the thought 😩🙈💞

And I can see myself dancing to this song as I make breakfast (in the afternoon or at midnight bc I’m crazy)

This was an okay b-track for me at the first skim on the album, but boy it grew on me wildly.

Honestly one of my favorite tracks in this album.

4. Focus

Did I just invade a private call? LMAO

The analog voice filters make it like so.

Dude, this feels intimate in the level of eavesdropping a phone call between seasoned lovers. Then you realize you hear them whispering their kinks over the line and you're ooh, that's sexy! hfgklhfhf

My first listen to this, I almost went feral because,

"I can't wait to eat you…" when it's actually "I can't wait 'til we chill…" aahaha

"Baby call me when you want me." OKAY!

This sounds relaxing and chill. I'd love to play this on a late night drive or just before bed time along with Fly Away With Me, Sun & Moon, My Youth, and Long Flight.

Belongs to ‘make out session’ playlist ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

That was lowkey a playlist recommendation, huh?

I'd be kidding if I don't say I could touch myself while listening to this song AHAHAFGHFJFJ

I didn't know this would grow on me this much lol I love love LOVE THIS!

5. The Rainy Night

Ooh, the holy melancholy!

Piano at the intro—I knew I'd cry to this.

This song isn't just about break-up, but the heartbreak after one.

The yearning; the remnant pieces from the shattering of what was once there.

I think I crumbled from this one.

This hit so hard I felt like I fit in the shoes with the lyrics throughout the entire song.

What’s fascinating is I clearly forgot the title when I mentally said this sounds like a sad rainy day song from the first listen.

Something I’d turn up when it suddenly rains, just because I want to feel the blues.

Taeil and Haechan singing in lower register? I wanna cry :( they’re just one of the best vocalists in K-music industry right now.

Could have been also nice if they added Yuta to the vocals.

"My selfish heart who waits for you to come back," OKAY WHO HURT THEM?

And the fact that they sang it so good that it translated every ounce of the emotions well even before I looked up for English translations is the reason why I love this song too.

6. Far

Hmm… What the hell?! Do I like this? Wait...

Alright!

The jumpy vibe from the first verse to the pre-chorus set the mood for this song. It sounds merry and heavy. It was honestly too much to take until I’ve reached the chorus part.

Honestly, I think this song could fit NCT Dream better, as it gives off a vibe similar to Hello Future's b-tracks. If some credible source say this could have made HF’s track list, I might believe you too fast.

Also Dream’s Deja Vu where they go na nananananana na na na~

Playful yet confident! That’s what I mean!

As usual, the vocals are insane! Vocal flex from left to right!

I swear Jungwoo sounded a bit like Taemin at the second verse that I had to replay it hahaha

I love hearing Johnny as a vocalist! SM, how many signs do you need until you utilize his vocal talent???

Taeil's part where he sings, "go nuts, go nuts, 'til we go bust, go bust" IDEK BUT I SNORTED A LAUGH AT FIRST LISTEN HFCAHKFHK

Not my favorite, but still great though!

But wait it’s actually stuck in my head???

7. Bring The Noize

Yes, they never beat those noise music allegations

HERE'S SOME NOIZE, BITCHES

I love me some noisy percussions. AND THE BASS YO

This screams so much confidence!

The build up from the pre-chorus to the chorus—FIRE!

This song reminds me a lot of SuperM's Super Car, especially with the engine roar samples and the battle cry-like singing at the chorus.

JAEHYUN RAPPING? You mean Jaehyun the visual, the vocalist, the actor, the model, the funny dude, aka my everything?! (markie bb look pls look away for a moment)

THEY DELIVERED IT STRAIGHT FROM NEOCITY THAT'S SOME NCT MUSIC RIGHT THERE NO ONE DOES IT LIKE THEM

When I said I'd play Focus on a late night drive, and if I add this in the playlist, VROOM VROOM SPEED LIMIT WHAT

OUTTA MY WAY

“We got no shame” ouh TAEYONG’S FLOW IS JUST VERY HIM AND HE’S IN A LEAGUE OF HIS OWN

You know what's so clever about this song? It's how it ended with Mark's final rap without any instrumental, leaving you standing there with a doppler effect-like post experience.

A super car on a super speed just whooshed past you and you look its way as it zips through the road. It's gone in an instant but you're floored dumbfounded at a sidewalk. That's how I describe this song.

8. Magic Carpet Ride

This song… Wow. Oh gosh it's so beautiful.

Their harmony in the chorus—it makes me want to kiss someone so passionately that I'd cry.

This makes me want to feel love that transcends the universe. Literally, just please take me on a magic carpet ride :(

The background harmonies too oh my goodness—HEAVENLY.

Jaehyun's voice is so warm and soulful it fits perfectly with songs of this genre.

Okay alright Doyoung Grande!

And Taeil makes me feel like I'm listening to old school R&B.

The first time I heard this from the track video, I can't stop replaying because it's just that great.

This makes me want to love. I think that sums it up.

9. Road Trip

This is such a soothing song for me, especially how I easily become nostalgic thinking about the road trips I've had.

Whenever I listen to this, my brain immediately conjures up thoughts of my ideal getaways. Gazing at the sky through the car window, stirring up from a nap in the middle of the ride, and eventually reaching your destination.

Oh, to travel around anywhere... (curse you covid-19)

Okay that's it. I'M PACKING UP.

But where do I go—

I could also imagine Mark playing this on the guitar and the other members sing along together, something like that.

Just Wholesome™ vibes.

I love how it evokes such a nice emotion within me effortlessly.

This isn't my favorite, but I still love this.

10. Dreamer

Eyyyy such a refreshing song!

This song is so bright it makes me want to dance. I play this first in the shower!

It reminds me so much of Elevator (from Neozone)

The horns make it more lively I think!

Yuta and Jungwoo's voice suits lively songs like this.

The background vocal in low register in Taeyong's part in the first verse is so good ahhfhf

Taeil, the R&B vocal king you are...

There's this part where Doyoung and Johnny harmonized, that at first listen they seemed to clash, but it sounded actually fine after a few listens. Maybe it's just that I've never heard them do it before.

And I think it's Doyoung's laugh at the end of the bridge? Oh my goodness I really love this too!

11. Promise You

MY FIRST LOVE AND MOST FAVORITE SONG IN THE ALBUM!!!

The first time I heard this from their NCIT Sharehouse Sitcom, I fell in love with the song already.

It sounds like something you'd feel from a warm, welcoming hug.

The lyrics are so beautiful and endearing. It's definitely a be-there-for-you type of song that will touch your heart.

It definitely sounds like a promise.

A song about platonic intimacy.

This really fits to be the closing song of the album. It's like the end of it but holds a promise that says “see you soon.”

Because they cherish their fans like that.

It's also like I've watched a movie with a happy ending, where the camera pans up to the clear sky and this song starts playing.

Speaking of ending, I would love to hear them sing this as an encore stage in their concert. You know, that moment just before the stage lights die down at the end of the concert where they send final blows of flying kisses to NCTzens. Then you come home smiling and crying.

This wasn't supposed to be this long since I originally planned to write this with just simple phrases and emojis but I got too engrossed lol. I also meant to include my own ratings but I figured it’s pointless since I can’t really decide about them hahaha

I really enjoyed the whole album and I love how they're progressively defining what NEO means by breaking through standards. It's not NCT music if it doesn't make you say "WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT?" But then you realize it’s stuck in your head and you’re enjoying it already.

✨ OVERALL RATING: 127/10 💚

if you’ve reached until here, thank you for letting me share you a braincell or two 💞

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ginnyweasleymybeloved · 4 years ago

Text

evermore x hp / masterlist

hp x readers based on the absolute masterpiece that is evermore by the love of my life taylor swift. i’ll be posting these fics once or twice a week and i will update the links once i’ve posted each one <3 really hope you guys enjoy <3

// these aren’t going to be exact line by line songfics, but based around a particular line or verse //

all fic masterlist

[🌸 = fluff, 🍁= angst]

taglist: @padsfirewhisky

[🌸] willow - fred weasley x reader

“life was a willow and it bent right to your wind

they count me out time and time again

life was a willow and it bent right to your wind

but I come back stronger than a 90's trend”

summary: hogwarts’ most popular playboy has made it very clear that you, his best friend, are not his type. seeing as you were crushing on him hard, you decide to take matters into your own hands

«»

[🍁] champagne problems - ron weasley x reader

“you had a speech, you’re speechless

love slipped beyond your reaches

and i couldn’t give a reason

champagne problems”

summary: on a cold night in november, your boyfriend, ron, gets sentimental thinking about a future that you’re not sure you deserved

«»

[🌸] gold rush - ginny weasley x reader

“and the coastal town

we wandered ‘round had never

seen a love as pure as it”

summary: revelling in the fact that you have the most amazing girlfriend in the world, while unbeknownst to you, she’s thinking exactly the same thing

«»

[🌸🍁] ‘tis the damn season - cedric diggory x reader

“so we could call it even

you could call me babe for the weekend

‘tis the damn season

write this down

i’m stayin’ at my parent’s house

and the road not taken looks real good now

and it always leads to you in my hometown”

summary: you bump into an old flame and old feelings catch up to you as you find yourself rekindling said flame

«»

[🍁] tolerate it - harry potter x reader

“i made you my temple, my mural, my sky

now i’m begging for footnotes in the story of your

life

drawing hearts in the bylines

always taking up too much space or time

you assume i’m fine, but what would you do if i

break free and leave us in ruins?

took this dagger in me and removed it?

gain the weight of you then lose it

believe me, i could do it”

summary: in the chaos of war, harry pushes the one person he didn’t ever want to lose, to the brink of walking away from him

«»

[🍁] no body, no crime - marauders x reader / peter pettigrew x reader / sirius black x reader

“i think he did it but i just can’t prove it

no, no body no crime

but i ain’t letting up ‘till the day i die”

summary: your best friends, lily and james potter, were betrayed by their secret keeper however you’re sure it couldn’t have been sirius.

«»

[🌸] happiness - remus lupin x reader

“there is happiness

past the blood and bruise

past the curses and cries

beyond the terror of the nightfall

haunted by the look in my eyes

that would’ve loved you for a lifetime

leave it all behind

and there is happiness”

summary: after the death of his friends and the betrayal of sirius, remus fears that he has lost the capacity for happiness. until you came along

«»

[🌸] dorothea - hermoine granger x reader

“hey dorothea

do you ever stop and think about me?

when we were younger

down in the park

honey, making a lark of the misery

you got shiny friends since you left town

a tiny screen’s the only place i see you now

and i got nothing but well wishes for ya”

summary: you see your childhood best friend for the first time in nearly a decade, you hold the same love and respect for her now as you did then

«»

[🍁] coney island - george weasley x reader

“the question pounds my head

‘what’s a lifetime of achievement?’

if i pushed you to the edge

but you were too polite to leave me

and do you miss the rogue

who coaxed you into paradise and left you there?

will you forgive my soul

when you’re too wise to trust me and too old to

care?”

summary: business is booming and the joke shop is expanding at a rapid rate, by the time it reaches its peak, geoege wants to bask in his success with the woman he loves, only to realise he’d completely neglected you in favour of pursuing his dreams and he doesn’t know if you’ll forgive him for it

«»

[🍁🌸] ivy - harry potter x reader

“how’s one to know?

i’d live and die for moments that we stole

on begged and borrowed time

so tell me to run

or dare to sit and watch what we’ll become”

summary: he thinks he’ll only ruin you, you think he’s worth the risk

«»

[🍁] cowboy like me - sirius black x reader

“you’re a bandit like me

eyes full of stars

hustling for the good life

never thought i’d meet you here

it could be love

we could be the way forward

and i know i’ll pay for it”

summary: sirius runs into you at a pure-blood party he’d been dragged to, the pair of you find solace in each other and gravitate towards one another from then on, however, noting the similarities between you and him, you deduct that you’ll end up paying dearly when you begin to crave more than secret rendezvous at pure-blood occasions.

«»

[🌸] long story short - george weasley x reader

“and he’s passing by

rare as the glimmer as a comment in the sky

and he feels like home

if the shoe fits, walk in it everywhere you go”

summary: george weasley is undoubtedly the love of your life, you realise

«»

[🍁] marjorie - remus lupin x lupin!reader

“the autumn chill that wakes me up

you loved the amber skies so much

long limbs and frozen swims

you’d always go past where our feet could

touch

and i complained the whole way there

the car ride back and up the stairs

i should’ve asked you questions

i should’ve asked you how to be

asked you to write it down for me

should’ve kept every grocery store receipt

‘cause every scrap of you would be taken

from me”

summary: your father dies in the battle of hogwarts and you’re left to go through his things

«»

[🍁] closure - fred weasley x reader

“yes, i got your letter

yes, i’m doing better

it cuts deep to know ya, right to the bone

yes, i got your letter

yes, i’m doing better

i know that it’s over, i don’t need your

closure”

summary: you and fred have a messy breakup and after a few months he owls you to see how you’re doing, and it just so happens that you’re doing fine without him

«»

[🌸] evermore - harry potter x reader

“and i was catching my breath

floors of a cabin creaking under my steps

and i couldn’t be sure

i had a feeling so peculiar

this pain wouldn’t be for

evermore”

summary: a soft moment between you and harry as you heal from the war together

«»

[🍁🌸] right where you left me - sirius black x reader

“did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen?

time went on for everybody else, she won’t

know it

she’s still 23 inside her fantasy

how it was supposed to be

did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion?

break-ups happen everyday, you don’t have to

lose it

she’s still 23 inside her fantasy

and you’re sitting in front of me”

summary: when sirius is condemned to azkaban you wait, and wait, and wait, right where he left you

«»

[🍁] it’s time to go - george weasley x reader

“that old familiar body ache

the snaps from the same little breaks in your soul

you know when it’s time to go”

summary: transitioning from best friends to lovers isn’t always the best idea, sometimes it’s better to walk away before there’s nothing left to leave

«»

#harry potter x reader #george weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader #ginny weasley x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #hermoine granger x reader #ron weasley x reader #cedric diggory x reader

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fic-request-blog · 3 years ago

Text

Five Times Hanzo's Dragons Protect McCree and One Time They Didn’t Have To

This is a request by an anon here on Tumblr for a “Five Times Hanzo's Dragons Protect McCree and One Time They Didn’t Have To.” It really is what’s on the lid. Oh, and they fall in love while we’re at it.

Fluff, angst, humor, rated T for non-explicit violence and mentions of sexual content, ~3K.

Read it here on AO3 instead.

Five Times Hanzo's Dragons Protect McCree and One Time They Didn’t Have To

Chapter 1

Jesse places his hand on the payload, sighing in relief, “Alright folks, we’re at the-“

Something clicks on the payload, a trigger slipping into place as Jesse checks inside. It’s empty except for a small bundle in the center. A tiny, almost translucent wire settles against the inner side of the payload and Jesse closes his eyes. Maybe he can save them from some damage on the off chance he survives this.

He knows what comes next, of course. The whole mission had been suspiciously easy. He shoulda figured.

The blast is strong enough that he’s blown clear over the wall behind him and dropped thirty some feet into the roiling sea below. From there, Jesse loses track of what’s happening. It’s a damn shame his boots and gear are so heavy, he muses, or he’d maybe be able to float up, or even swim up.

But his head is fuzzy, his ears are ringing, and it’s not like he coulda figured out which way was up anyhow. The world turns to blue around him, deep and quiet. His mind swirls around in his head as much as the water around him.

Peaceful. The blue around him is nice, and he doesn’t feel cold or any of the pain that he’s sure he should. He’d always thought he’d go down fightin’ it to the end, but this…this ain’t a bad way to go.

The blue gets brighter and brighter as he continues to slide through the water, which don’t make much sense, but he ain’t really thinking well anyhow, so maybe that’s just how death works. He watches pretty, sparkling circles drift away in the light and finally closes his eyes.

Something wraps around him, warm and comfortable, and Jesse thinks death really ain’t as bad as people make it out to be. Feels a lot like flying.

Chapter 2

There’s another roar of laughter from the bar and Hanzo rolls his eyes, safe in the darkness of his corner booth. The cowboy has certainly recovered well, as is evident by the amount of whiskey he has managed to drink this evening. There was…uncertainty for a short time. The near drowning had been a non-issue, but the burns and injuries to his face, torso, and arms had been far more critical, though Baptiste assured them all he would make a full recovery. Being blown over the wall and into the water had apparently been a far better outcome than being blown into the wall.

Frowning, Hanzo drops his gaze to the sake in his cup. He is perturbed by his own strong reaction to witnessing McCree in peril. They have only been on perhaps four missions together; they have not known one another for long. As another boisterous laugh erupts from the bar, he cannot resist watching McCree again. He is honest enough with himself to admit that the cowboy’s easy and honest personality appeals to him, and the man’s appearance, though crude, is…well-built. Hanzo knows what he likes, and McCree would be, as the American says, a cool drink of water. It does not hurt either that McCree seems to enjoy complementing Hanzo, especially regarding Hanzo’s skill with a bow. It takes more honesty with himself than he has while sober to admit that McCree is partially getting to him through his ego, but with a bottle of sake to nurse, Hanzo can swallow that truth this evening. There are few things he likes more than someone appreciating his skills.

Yet, it is rare for him to become so instantly attached, especially at work. He is usually firm about separating his professional and private lives. It seems McCree has wormed his way into Hanzo’s good graces.

Flexing his fingers, Hanzo sighs. It is not only Hanzo who is intrigued either; the dragons had reacted both swiftly and violently at the danger to the cowboy. If they intend to react like that again, Hanzo may need to be more careful in the future.

By the time the other Overwatch agents begin to trickle out of the bar, it is late, and Hanzo decides he too should find rest. That he leaves shortly after McCree is but a coincidence, he is sure.

There is a pleasant buzz under his skin and the night air is cool as he walks back to the compound. He does not rush, but it takes only a minute or so to catch sight of a familiar hat bobbing through the streets. McCree has one arm across Baptiste’s shoulders, but the other man must be drunk as well because they both weave haphazardly through the streets.

Smile quirking at his lips, Hanzo slows to maintain distance between them. While he did not mind McCree paying for his drinks this evening in thanks for saving his life, nor any of the other words of praise McCree lavished upon him, he does not intend to deal to with two drunks. He will simply follow to make sure they reach the compound.

Later, Hanzo will blame the noise McCree and Baptiste are making for his lapse of concentration, though the sake likely did not help either. He certainly will not admit to watching McCree too closely, the way his hips sway pleasingly as he tries to walk upright down the street.

The first bullet catches McCree in the shoulder, only missing the back of his head because Baptiste had stumbled, dragging the cowboy to the left at just the right moment. Even drunk, though, the two can react swiftly, and the second bullet finds only cobblestones.

Hanzo does not know if the shooter is aware of his position nor does he wait long enough to see if McCree or Baptiste are hit by the third shot. He simply pivots, leaping against the wall to his right and ricochets off to the left, onto the roof the shooter is likely using. Tracing the trajectory of the shots is child’s play.

He has no bow, no weapon at all in fact, but that will make little difference. The silence of the night is interrupted only by a fourth shot. Hanzo’s quiet footfalls as he flits across the roof and his tattoos flaring to life make no noise at all.

He cannot see precisely where the shooter is, but the dragons can taste the gunpowder on the air. They arc across the roof, blue light blinding in the still of the night.

There is not a fifth shot.

Chapter 3

“Thanks Angel,” Jesse smiles as he dodges into an alcove, reloading, “glad ta have your eyes on me!”

Hanzo makes an affirmative noise over the comms and falls silent. Jesse’s not sure if the man minds him callin’ him angel. Hanzo’s hard to read. He’s more stoic than a brick wall. But the guy has saved Jesse’s life twice already, so he can’t hate Jesse too much. If Jesse thinks of Hanzo as his own personal guardian angel, well, Hanzo hasn’t stopped him callin’ him that yet. An’ Hanzo’s not exactly a shy guy. Jessie is sure he woulda spoken up if it bothered him.

So, the real question is, does Hanzo like him callin’ him angel? Because if he does… Jesse certainly would like to know about that.

It takes some focus to shift his attention from thinking about Hanzo’s form when the man is pulling back that bow of his to the battle at hand. The way those tattoos wrap around Hanzo’s biceps as he knocks an arrow, almost like they’re alive, is real…distracting.

The man’s prettier than just about anyone Jesse has ever seen.

Something explodes behind their position and Hanzo’s voice crackles over the line, even more terse than usual.

“Move! All of you!”

Jesse jumps from their position, breaking cover with the rest of the team as the building behind them rumbles ominously.

“They’ve destroyed the building’s supports!”

Cursing, Jesse breaks into a full sprint, watching as the building’s shadow continues to lengthen in front of the team, the ground shuddering beneath them. Things have gone from not great to shit real fast and Jesse’s not sure which direction will stop them all from getting squashed like bugs. There’s a lot of buildings all around them and the one they’d been sheltering behind was tall.

Probably no direction except up is safe.

And then there’s a bright blue light behind them, throwing the shadow of the building back, and Jesse is picked right up off the ground, something big rushing above him.

Gasping, Jesse wriggles, arms pinned to his sides, “What-!”

Similar noises of surprise over the comms from the rest of the team are drowned out as the building crashes into the ground, dust and the accompanying shockwave deafening and blinding Jesse to the ensuing chaos. Air continues to rush past him. He coughs but can’t hear it, can only feel the rattle of his lungs as he tries to clear the dust.

Jesse’s not sure how long they’re in the air. It coulda been seconds or minutes, he wasn’t keeping track. At some point, whatever’s got ahold of him slows down. He cracks an eye open, squinting in the sun as he continues to hack up a lung.

He’s dropped gently onto a roof, and there is, and Jesse ain’t a liar, two dragons dropping the rest of the team onto the roof as well. They are long and blue.

Jesse is freaking out a bit, trying to get a better look from where he lays on his stomach, but the coughing isn’t helping. With wide eyes, he watches Hanzo hop off the back of one of them, graceful as ever. The dragons begin to shrink, smaller and smaller, until they wrap around Hanzo’s arm, stilling as they bleed into his skin.

There ain’t a speck of dust on Hanzo as he turns towards Jesse and, as he walks over, Jesse’s not sure if it’s the dust’s fault that he can’t breathe right. The man is a sight to behold.

Lips quirking in amusement, Hanzo raises a brow, “you dropped this, cowboy,” he says, Jesse’s hat gripped lightly in in his hand.

If Jesse weren’t still winded and coughing, he’d swoon.

Chapter 4

Whatever Hanzo and he have between them is new but so sweet and it feels like it could be goin’ somewhere real good. His thoughts are a little muddy though, swinging from their current predicament to maudlin anger. Life ain’t fair, Jesse knows that. He’s lived a life most people would consider pretty shit, but he’s never begged like this.

“Dunno what I gotta say,” he rasps, arms tightening around Hanzo’s limp form draped across his chest and down his legs, “but please, ‘m beggin ya ta get him outta here.”

It’s only been a month since they started taking dinner together, sitting in quiet spots around base and drinking long into the night. Jesse’s never considered himself a gifted conversationalist, but with Hanzo, words just come easier.

The wall behind him is cold and the alcove he’s dragged them both into is barely big enough to cover them, but with a bust leg and Hanzo’s dead weight, he isn’t going to get anywhere else. Still, the tattoos on Hanzo’s arm remain just that, tattoos.

“Please, please, I know you’re in there, please.”

With one hand, he presses against the sticky mess of Hanzo’s temple, using his chest as a better headrest than the wall, while the other hand shakily holds his poncho to the wound seeping at Hanzo’s side. This thing they’ve got going between them is still so new and the bitter reality that he’s probably not going to see where it goes is pulling pleas from his lips better than any torture he’s faced.

“Please,” he whispers, breath puffing across the crown of Hanzo’s head, disturbing the hairs escaped from the man’s usually perfect bun, “please.”

Hell, they’ve only kissed a couple times. The first had been messy with nerves and drink, but the second. Oh, the second had been slow as molasses and curled his toes right in his boots. Hanzo had backed him up against a door with a hand gripping possessively along his jaw. Just the smolder Hanzo left him with as the man sauntered away, bidding him goodnight, had made Jesse so hot under the collar a cold shower hadn’t done much.

There’s no glow from Hanzo’ arm still, no shiver of electricity in the air, and Jesse starts to lose the little bit of hope still scrabbling at the back of his mind.

“C’mon, you can’t leave him to die like this, please,” his voice just loud enough to hear over the pounding of blood in his ears as the stomp of boots echo off the walls not too far down the corridor, “please, ‘m beggin’ ya, please.”

Tears well hot and heavy at the corner of his eyes as his pleas continue, quieter and quieter as whoever is drawing near gets closer and closer. Damn it all, he’d only gotten the balls to ask Hanzo out on a real date days ago. They’re not going to get a chance to see where this will go, and he’s never hated this shit hand in life more.

A gun cocks at the entrance to their little alcove. Jesse doesn’t look up. Not because he’s too chicken shit to stare down a barrel, god knows he’s done that enough in his life, but because there’s a familiar blue glow spilling from Hanzo’s arm and he can’t look away. Relief steals the very breath from his lungs.

Well, maybe that’s partly the rib giving him a nasty poke to the lung too.

Chapter 5

Someone makes a sound somewhere to his left, a whimper, and Hanzo struggles towards consciousness. His mind swirls. Time seems to waver. Eventually, or perhaps mere moments later, he cracks his eyes open. For long seconds, he is unable to place where he is, but slowly the shadows skulking about form into the familiar interior of the infirmary. He relaxes slightly. At least it is unlikely he is in danger here.

Again, a soft whimper draws his attention to the left. It takes far more energy to turn his head than Hanzo thinks it should, but he manages to nonetheless.

Tucked into the bed beside his own is McCree, fast asleep. The cowboy’s face is tight with pain, though perhaps in his dreams it is worry or fear. Hanzo breathes deep. It is good to see that McCree has survived, a miracle that they have both survived through their last mission. From what he can remember, it had not gone well.

McCree makes another pained sound and there is a tug, a pull from the dragons, against the skin of his arm.

This again. Tiredly, he tries to calm them, “He is not in danger, hush.”

They pull anyways, worried. It takes more energy to keep them there against his skin than to allow their thrashing, and Hanzo has precious little energy to spare.

“Fine,” he releases them, “but do not wake him. He must sleep.”

In the gloom, Hanzo watches them curl tentatively into the nooks of McCree’s body, nuzzling anywhere their little snouts can reach. As one of them snuggles into the rough bristles of McCree’s beard, the pinched expression on his face begins to smooth out.

With a deep warmth spreading through his chest, Hanzo lets sleep take him.

Chapter 6

Hanzo dispatches two more of the talon mercenaries in quick succession, using his momentum to vault to the top of the building. While there are far more talon members than their intel had suggested, the mission so far is going smoothly. Jesse, and now Hanzo, have already reached the objective with little trouble. The rest of their team is not far behind.

Cresting the final set of stairs brings Hanzo in line of sight with Jesse, and time seems to slow around him, his senses sharpening. He breathes in. The scent of smoke sits acrid on his tongue. The sunlight is harsh in his eyes.

Too close. The cowboy is too close to the edge of the building. He watches as though in slow motion, watches as Jesse struggles with a talon agent against the lip of the roof, watches as the ridge they fight against begins to give way, watches as they start to fall.

“Jesse!”

His heart stops within his chest, throat closing around the word.

He breaks into a sprint, calling out to the dragons, their anger singing in tune with his own. There is still a chance he may yet catch Jesse.

But as he reaches the edge, all but prepared to leap, he spots Jesse. The man is not freefalling, but instead has somehow managed to drop into one of the talon helicopters prowling the skies. The helicopter gains height swiftly, pulling up to hover over the roof. Hanzo cannot help the smile tugging at his lips. The talon agents on the roof have yet to realize the danger they are in.

Jesse opens fire, catching the talon agents entirely off guard, clearing the roof in seconds.

The rest of the team arrives as Jesse turns the helicopter, opening fire on the two other talon aircraft still nearby. Hanzo walks back to the stairs as Jesse comes in for a landing. He is…deeply impressed.

Lucio brings the package over, grinning at Jesse in the cockpit.

“Y’all need a ride?” Jesse greets them, the roll of the self-satisfied words around his already-lit cigar sending sparks down Hanzo’s spine. There are far too many of their teammates around them for the embers of arousal to be anything but inappropriate, but Hanzo cannot stop himself from meeting Jesse’s eyes. He knows Jesse can tell where his thoughts have shifted by the stutter in his breath, the clear surprise flitting across his handsome face, and the answering interest darkening his eyes.

If Jesse flies a little fast, Hanzo does not mind. Nor do their teammates question. They have all felt the adrenaline of victory.

If he and Jesse break from their team members at base slightly sooner than etiquette usually requires after such success, none of them question that either.

#mchanzo #hanzo shimada #jesse mccree #Fluff with angst #hurt/comfort #falling in love #the dragons just really like jesse #so does Hanzo lol

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postmodernmulticoloredcloak · 4 years ago

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I decided to watch the Walker pilot so you don’t have to. #3

Good news: this is the last part. Bad news: we still have more than 10 minutes of Walker.

Walker finds Stella at the gazebo of doom. He chides her, and the tone and mannerism he uses here are so familiar. It’s the tone he does when Sam is mad-upset at Dean for something. It feels I’m watching a scene with Sam and Dean where we’re supposed to be criticize Dean for something.

But Stella apparently is allowed to talk back at Jared’s character, which is an unexpected positive development in this. She says he and her brother needed him, and she calls bullshit that he “has” to answer when he gets a work call. She’s like, can’t you tell your boss ‘whoops turns out I am supposed to take care of my kids now’?

He replies “what am I supposed to say here? how can I fix this?”. You are the adult, you’re kind of pushing responsibility on her like you and she have the same amount of responsibility here, but you’re the father, she’s a kid. All through the ep he’s had this weird attitude with her, like they both need to do the same amount of work here. They don’t. He’s the adult and the father here. Of course she’s not a little child but she’s still not an adult.

She ends the confrontation with a harsh reminder that her mother is gone, so he does the Jared mouth things, but dramatic. You deserve to see this

Meanwhile Ramirez and other cops get into the figurine workshop. She starts confronting the owner and Walker also arrives. The owner’s wife pulls out a gun, Ramirez does a roundhouse kick to unharm her. Chase scene through the workshop begins. It ends pretty much right away. The action is super short.

They get to the boss’ office and we get this visual they copied from shows with better cinematography.

The boss compliments them and Walker acknowledges Ramirez’ importance in it. “Should have known the woman was the brains of the operation” she says, because she is Feminism(TM).

Apparently this drug dealing thing made them discover a link to a bigger thing and the boss recommended Walker to go work on it. He also calls him out for the way the roughed up the suspect earlier, which. Bare minimum but okay.

He goes home and sits on a bench with his brother. He starts fidgeting with a poker chip and Liam is like “stop doing that it makes you think about your wife”. Turns out there was a chip on her when she died. Oh, so they actually found a dead body lmao. Alright, she’s dead, I guess.

Blah blah about the case of her death. I was going to type more about it then I realized I don’t care. Basically he feels like he missed something! There’s a big mystery and I don’t care. You know what, Mary Winchester also died after ten seconds of the pilot of Supernatural, but the scene that leads to her death was shot from her point of view. The audience is her, gets scared with her because there’s a stranger in the nursery, and then suddenly we are not seeing her. We go looking for her with John, and we see her die. It’s not exceptional television, Mary isn’t really given a personality or anything, but for a brief moment she’s the protagonist. Emily isn’t even given that.

Liam tells him that the only thing he can do is be here. Jared does another mouth thing. God, when he’s the only lead you are forced to focus on him. You can’t escape his acting. Why is he putting in so little effort?? It’s a pilot episode, not motw #84 in the fuckteenth Supernatural season.

Then Walker goes inside and his mother gives him parenting advice. Parenting doesn’t happen automatically, he needs to get to know them again...

So the daughter is feisty and smart and basically Walter number 2. The son is “twisted into bits” because he does everything he can to be a good kid so that no one will worry about him. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm this does not remind me of anything! I’m dead inside!

He mentions the force he’s been recommended for. Of course the kids hear it. Why does Jared need to grunt when he gets up from a chair. I mean, my dad does it but he’s 66.

Walker’s mother has fixed a little house on the property for them to live in, and Walker has another elvish vision of his dead wife.

The screenshot kind of subdues the effect but yes that’s a glow around her. Dead wife nods and then turns. It’s embarrassing. There’s a weird sound effect when you see her, that’s supposed to be ethereal or something but is just embarrassing. The weird light effect. The very fact that it’s there.

Then father-son moment. “I never meant to made you grow up so fast”. Boo-hoo. They sit on the couch, the son is asleep, the daughter comes in and brings up what she heard before. He says he’s not gonna take that job and that he’s learning. The end.

So they. uh. Really thought it was a good idea to make a show about John Winchester but a cop. They really thought it was a good idea.

This is just that. What if John Winchester is the main character but he’s a cop and has parents and a place in the countryside outside of Austin Texas. Also add in a gay brother and a Mexican-American colleague for the Liberals(TM).

I’m flabbergasted. The entire premise of this show is John Winchester is the main character but he’s a Texas Ranger asdfghjkl

Mr Padalecki please never have ideas ever for the rest of your life.

I suppose the show will be about Walker becoming a good dad for his kids while developing better relationships with the various grownups in his life and also solving the big mystery of his wife’s death. That concept isn’t bad on paper. Except Walker is the least compelling person you can imagine. He’s just unlikeable. I don’t root for him. I just don’t want to see him. He’s not even Jeffrey Dean Morgan.

The aesthetic would almost be enjoyable but I’ve seen too many cowboy hats. I will go to sleep tonight and dream of cowboy hats. They will haunt me forever.

This could be a decent job if it weren’t about law enforcement. It’s just a classic cop show. There’s nothing new or progressive about it. It’s just a cop show.

Also it would be a decent show if Walker weren’t the main character. I don’t want to say “if you remove Walker from it” because that’s harsh, but Walker is terrible as the main character. You don’t like him. You can’t relate to him, not even if you had similar issues to him, because he’s just unlikeable. Not even in a “I’m looking forward to see him grow and develop as a person”. I don’t care.

I’ve been pretty critical of Supernatural lately but after watching this I have a renovated appreciation for Supernatural, even with the faults. (Finale not included.) At least Supernatural is, you know, enjoyable to watch. We deserved Wayward Sisters. We deserved Wayward Sisters. We d

#cw's jared: legit texan #marghe watches walker for some darned reason

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aj-thegreatest · 3 years ago

Photo

Wow I love the Manic Pixie Dream Girl with her Ye Ye Cowboy. Persephone and Levi, two characters with aesthetics I really loved! Looking up inspiration (especially for Seph) was fun, and hopefully I’ll draw them again. There’ll be a separate post for extra art. In the meantime:

Let’s start with Persephone! I know her thing is “quirky oddball kid becomes attractive teen”, but her quirky look showed her personality more I also liked it better. Her everyday outfit is fairly similar to her kid one: a jumper —> short overalls, funky shoes, and tons of daisies. I kept her braces (she’d lose her Invisalign in my headcanon), but stuck with the contacts. I used Amina Mucciolo’s style for outfit ideas:

And searched Claire’s accessories that worked best (my art friends titled her “Claire’s Persephone”, which I love lol).

Her formal wear comes from 80’s prom dresses: big, flashy, and excessive. Which fits her best!

Next is Levi, who has less to explain. Because he’s half Mexican I wanted to give him tanner skin, and curly brown hair (the front styled similarly to Clay’s). Still has Clay’s blue eyes, freckles, and cowboy theme. I liked the green flannel, so I added a yellow jacket to match. And I titled the belt buckle! A little much but it’s the cowboy way. Really wanted push the theme. I could’ve done more for their last outfits, but they still look fun to me.

Stay tuned for the extras post! Here’s the concept sketches:

#callyieverse redesigns #callyieverse #persephone #levi #my redesigns #my art #if youre wondering why the photos are formatted like that #its cause website tumblr is inferior to mobile #but again had a good time drawing them!#probably the easiest ones for outfits kinda #At least for Seph I love her alot #She's a proud ditz

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isntthisenoughwhatwouldbeenough · 4 years ago

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You’re The Voice In My Head (Polyhamilsquad x Reader)

A/N: Another completed request! I hope you are all doing well and that you enjoy this, especially @random-thoughts-003 I hope you like this! And thank you so so much for requesting! All of the readers thoughts are in italics and the boys are in bold italics, just in case it confuses anyone. As always I wish you all the most wonderful of days and I’m sending you all my good vibes.

Soulmates. Something you had learned about from a young age. Your parents had found each other when they were just thirteen years old and they had been inseparable ever since. Growing up hearing their story always made you long to find your soulmate. You would listen intently whenever you met someone new or went somewhere new. You dreamed of having the same story your parents did, that same sweet, unyielding love they had for each other.

Unfortunately, you didn’t find your soulmate throughout your middle school years, high school years or even in college. By the time college came around you pretty much gave up on finding your soulmate, thinking you were one of those people who just didn’t have one. You had become resigned to your fate and learned to deal with the fact that you didn’t have a soulmate. You used to get upset by the fact that there were people who had multiple soulmates, that could hear each other's thoughts. How unfair that one person can have more than one and I don’t even have one?

You of course had everyone around you, telling you that your soulmate was out there, be patient, they’ll find you when you least expect it. You had heard it all and had decided to stop listening. You were fine, you were happy on your own, besides soulmates are overrated anyway.

With this mentality you lived your life day to day, looking for little things to find the most joy in. One of those things? Your local record store. You walked in saying hello to the cashier, before heading back to browse through the records.

Wanted Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi started playing over the speakers. You smiled to yourself as you started humming along.

“I’m a cowboy on a steel horse I ride, I’m wanted (Wanted) Dead or alive, Wanted (wanted) Dead or alive…..oh and I Ride!”

God, that’s a great song.

What did you say?

You stop what you’re doing when you hear the voice. You look on either side of you and then behind you, but don’t see anyone. You shake your head at yourself.

That what was weird, guess it was all in my head.

What was?

You stop and look around again, this time you see a man who looks around your age with long, dark hair tied back and brown eyes.

“Did you just say something?” You ask, looking at him warily.

“That depends,” he replies.

“On?”

“On what you heard.”

“A question I guess, two actually,” you try to explain. You shake your head at yourself.

No, it was all just in my head.

Technically you’re right, but it's me you’re hearing.

You look up at him with wide eyes, waiting to see his mouth move with the words you’re hearing.

You can hear me, can’t you?

You shake your head in response and disbelief.

“You can!” He says aloud, excitedly. “Say something in your head again.”

I can’t believe this happening.

“This is very much happening,” he smiles widely.

You look at him still shocked and confused.

“So,” you start slowly, trying to wrap your head around this, “we’re soulmates.”

“Yes,” he smiles, “yes we are.” He laughs lightly. “You look thoroughly shocked. What did you think you’d never find me?”

“No, I didn’t,” you shake your head. “I thought I was one of those people who just didn’t have one.”

He smiles gently walking closer until he was standing right in front of you. He takes your hands in his.

“Well, love, turns out you’re one of the lucky ones.”

And that’s when you feel it. The Ties or Strings, your parents called them. They said it was like there was invisible strings that tied you to your soulmate the moment you touched. You were bound to each other.

You exhale and a smile finally graces your face.

Beautiful.

You look up to see him staring at you and your smile grows and before you know it, you’re throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into an embrace. You feel no hesitation from him, instantly wrapping you up in his arms. You’re stunned by how right it feels to be in this strangers' arms.

You release your hold on him and he does the same. You step back with a shy smile and hold out your hand.

“I’m (Y/N), thought maybe you should know name, seeing as were soulmates and all.”

He chuckles at you and grasps your hand with his.

“Alexander, but feel free to call me, Alex.” He smiles at you. “I mean seeing as were soulmates and all.”

You laugh as your cheeks flush.

“How about we go get some coffee and get to know each other a little better,” he releases your hand only to grab your other.

You look at your intertwined hands and back up at him.

“Well, I don’t usually go out with people I've just met, but since your soulmate I guess it's alright.”

He throws his head back as he laughs and you find you like that, that he was happy, that you made him happy. It made your heart stutter in the most wonderful way.

“Come on,” he says as he pulls you along.

You make it to the coffee shop and Alex can’t stop smiling. You keep taking shy glances at him and it takes him a moment to realize your hands hadn’t come unclasped.

You both ask each other a stream of questions about your respective lives and find you have a similar taste in music.

“Anyway, my parents wake up and my sister and I are covered in extinguisher fluid, my brother is covered in pancake batter and my mothers favorite carpet is ruined.”

You laugh retelling the story of how you and your siblings once started a small fire while trying to make pancakes.

“Oh my god,” he laughs along in disbelief, “what did your parents do?”

“Well, we were all grounded for one week and banned from ever using the kitchen without their supervision,” you chuckle and shrug. “Wasn’t that bad if you think about it.”

He chuckles once more before turning serious.

“Is everything okay?” You ask worriedly.

“Yeah,” he nods, looking lost in thought. “Its just,” he pauses, “there’s something I want to ask you.”

“Okay.”

“Have you ever heard anyone else before?”

Your face scrunches up in confusion.

“The way I heard you today?” He nods. “No, I never have.” You pause, he still looks lost in thought, looking down at the table. “Have you?”

He looks up at you now, a small bit of fear in his eyes as his hand tightens for a moment on yours. As if he’s afraid you’ll run away.

“I”- he starts and stops. “I have.”

“You have?”

“Yes, but not just one.” He cringes as he makes his confession.

“How many?”

“Three.”

“Three?”

“I have three other soulmates,” he says quickly.

“Oh my god,” your hand slips from his for the first time since you met, as you place them on your head. “Three soulmates,” you repeat trying to wrap head around it.

It's not unheard of sure, but three. You just found out you actually had a soulmate and now he has three other soulmates.

What if they can’t hear me? What if I can’t hear them? What if I only hear one of them? Or two of them? What if they ask him to choose? I can’t ask him to give up his soulmates. What if they don’t like me? What if-

Your racing thoughts are cut off by Alex’s gentle touch on your arm.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says trying to calm you. “Your thoughts are making me dizzy,” he chuckles.

“What if"-

“They would never make me choose and I know they’re going to love you,” he caresses your face. “Everything is going to be okay.”

You sigh, calming at his touch. He moves to sit next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pull you close.

“You don’t know that.”

“I’ve got a feeling,” he says brushing his nose against yours before kissing it.

You giggle and snuggle into him.

Everything is going to be okay.

I promise.

You smile and look up at him, he smiles down at you and kisses your forehead.

You decide it’s too much in one day to meet so many soul mates at once so you both decide to do it a few days later. You’re incredibly nervous as Alex walks you up the steps to the apartment, he shares with his other soul mates and quite possibly yours.

He turns to you.

"You sure you're ready for this?"

You nod and give him a nervous smile.

He smiles and kisses your hand in his.

"I told them to be on their best behavior, so don't worry."

You chuckle lightly and squeeze his hand.

You take a deep breath as he opens the door. And you're immediately greeted with an onslaught of thoughts.

Oh, they’re back.

She’s finally here.

Gosh, I really hope all of this works.

Everything is going to be fine, don't worry.

Oui, mon cher, we'll all be alright.

Remember Alex wanted us to try and quiet our thoughts so we don't overwhelm her.

You pause in the doorway as you hear them all at once.

Alex grabs your arms to steady as you sway a bit.

"Are you okay, love?"

You laugh to yourself as you gain your balance and you realize you don't have to worry. You can hear them. All three of them in your head, three distinctive voices. Not only that, but you can feel the same pull you felt with Alex. The strings tying you to your three other soulmates. You look up at Alex.

"I can hear them," you say with a breathless smile.

Four soulmates, there's something I never thought would happen.

"You can?" He smiles brightly at you.

You nod with the same smile.

"You better start believing baby because we can hear you too."

You and Alex turn to see your three other soulmates, three of the most handsome men you've ever seen.

The tallest one comes to greet you. His smile is gentle and warm, you're surprised by how much you want to run into his arms.

"It’s wonderful to meet you, Alex has told us so much about you. My name is Hercules." He gently takes your hand in his and kisses the back of your hand softly.

I don’t think I’ve ever met so many handsome men at once before.

Hercules smiles at you still holding your hand.

"Well, thank you," he chuckles. "I don’t think we’ve ever been graced with a woman as beautiful as you."

Your cheeks redden as you realize they all heard the thought.

You look behind him to see the two other men smiling from ear to ear. They are next to approach you, the one with the French accent is the first to introduce himself.

"I am Gilbert du Montier de Lafayette." He chuckles as your eyes widen. "But you, mon ange, can call me Lafayette."

He kisses your hand, much like Hercules and gives you a dazzling smile.

"And me, baby girl, I’m John Laurens, call me anything you'd like."

I cannot wait to hold you in my arms.

You smile at him.

“Well consider your waiting done.” You hold out your arms to him and he is quick to embrace you. You giggle as he nuzzles your neck. You’re once again surprised by how right it feels to be in his arms.

Lafayette is next to embrace you after John is convinced to let you go, he quickly goes into Alex’s waiting embrace. Laf holds you close and releases a breath, like he’s been waiting just to hold you and he can finally relax. He kisses your temple before he pulls away and lets Hercules have his turn.

Herc embraces you gently at first, as if your too precious to hold too tightly. He holds you tighter, when you nuzzle into his chest.

I hope you can get used to this, cupcake, because it won’t be letting up.

Get used to this? Definitely.

He chuckles and kisses the top of your head and pulls away slightly to look at you. He caresses your face as you look up at him.

“You sure you can handle all of us?”

You look away from Hercules and at your three other soulmates, staring at you expectantly with hopeful smiles.

“Can I handle being loved by four incredibly handsome and kind men?” You pretend to think about it, as they laugh. “Yeah,” you nod, “I think I can handle that.”

6 Months Later...

I’m late, I’m late, I’m late, I’m late, I’m late.

You hear Alex’s voice running through your mind, as you get ready on this particularly hectic morning since you all woke up late.

“Shouldn’t he be thinking we’re late,” John says as he slides next to you to fill his thermos with coffee as you hand him Alex’s ready to go. “We do work in the same place.”

You chuckle as you place a soft kiss to his lips and then his cheek.

“You know how one track minded Alex can be,” you placate him, rubbing his arm.

He pulls you into his arms and kisses your cheek and down to your neck.

“I think I might being getting one track minded with you,” he whispers in your ear making laugh breathlessly.

You pull him away slightly with a smile.

“Your mind should be on work,” you give him a quick kiss before pulling way completely and fixing his suit.

He sighs.

“But when we get back my minds going back,” he smirks and kisses your cheek.

“That’s fair,” you laugh. “Now, you have to get going.”

You walk behind him and lightly push him out of the kitchen.

“Alex, darling, breakfast,” you catch him just as he’s running past you to the door.

You hold out a bag for him to take and he grabs it quickly and continues, before pausing turning back and pulling you into his arms and kissing tenderly. He’s pulls away smiling.

“Thank you,” he says as he gives you a last quick peck. “I love you,” he shouts as he walks out the door.

John shakes his head and pulls you into him for a quick kiss of his own.

‘We’ll see you tonight, baby girl,” he kisses your cheek before heading out after Alex.

You laugh to yourself and turn right into Lafayette's arms.

“Have our frantic lovers left, mon ange?” He asks, as he pulls you close and nuzzles your neck.

You giggle softly and play with his hair as he hums into your neck.

“Yes, they just walked out, although I have to say one was far more hectic than the other.”

He feel him laugh into your neck before he pulls back to place a slow, soft kiss to your lips.

“I can’t believe we have to work on a Saturday,” he sighs, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry, my love, but at least we’ll all have tonight and tomorrow to spend all together,” you try to soothe him.

He nods and caresses your cheek.

“At least,” he kisses you softly once more, before going to the bedroom.

He walks back out a few minutes later. You’re at the table finishing your coffee, and he lifts your head so you’re looking up at him. You smile and rise up from your seat so you can embrace him. He wraps his arms around you kisses your neck once.

“I will miss you, mon ange,” he says brushing some of your hair from your face.

“The day will fly by, and we’ll all be here waiting when you’re done.”

You smile gently and press your lips to his for a soft kiss.

“Now, go before you’re late, my love.”

He smiles and kisses your hand before heading for the door. You turn to head back to the kitchen, when his voice whispers in your mind.

I love you, mon coeur.

You smile as you turn back to him and think your response.

I love you.

He smiles brightly at you before closing the door behind him. As you begin washing the dishes from the quick breakfast you and Herc made this morning, you feel his arms circle around your waist. He kisses your shoulder as you lean into him.

“I’m glad I only have to go in a couple hours today.”

“I know at least I get one of you for most of the day,” you reply turning in his arms. “That's the benefit of having multiple soulmates, you’ll always have one of them with you.”

He laughs and kisses your temple, cheek and places a tender kiss to your lips.

“Truly a wonderful benefit, cupcake,” he bumps your nose with his before lifting you into his arms.

“Babe!” You giggle in surprise.

“I think we should get in some quality cuddles while we miss our soulmates together.”

“A wise suggestion, love,” you nod seriously in agreement.

He smiles wide as he jumps on the bed with you in his arms making you laugh in unison.

Later that evening as you’re snuggled in bed with all your lovers you sigh in contentment.

Happy, baby girl?

You laugh as you snuggle deeper into Johns chest.

With all of you? Always.

He pulls you closer and kisses the top of your head.

I am also happiest with you, mes amours.

Laf chimes in, from behind John.

I love you all so much.

Alex is next to think out from behind you.

Nothing is better than this.

Herc is the last to say, as you all snuggle in closer.

You never thought you could be lucky enough to end up with one soulmate, but now you had four and they were they best people you had ever met. You had never felt more loved, more cherished, or more complete in your life. Of course, you could say that’s a given once you’ve found your soulmate, but you’re pretty positive you’ve got the best ones out there. And as you slip into sleep you’re further convinced of the fact as you hear a gentle chorus of ‘I love yous’ in your mind.

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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 4 years ago

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Six Strangers Walk Into a Bar: Part 7 (Severen x Fem!Reader) fic

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

Warnings: sexual content, cursing, Homer is a canon compliant little creep

Word Count: 3662

Smut and fluff, ‘cause some people said they deserved it after that angst chapter, but man this took forever to write. Literally didn't edit this cause we die by our mistakes

It was harder than you thought to keep your mind clean. Severen didn't help you by fondling your ass every now and then, and you were uncomfortably riled up by the time you got to the motel. Severen only grinned and asked,

"Something wrong, darlin'? And you gave him an extra hard glare as he opened the door to the motel room. To your surprise, it was empty. Mae and Caleb had a habit of going off by themselves for reasons besides feeding, and you supposed that Jesse and Diamondback hadn't eaten yet. And Homer? Well, you set your food on the table and checked the bathroom, but he was nowhere to be found. Severen took off his leather jacket, arching a brow at you to ask, and you shook your head. The two of you stared at eachother for a moment, and then both of you fell onto your bed for the night. The kiss was all tongue and you yanked at Severens hair as he slid between your legs. The two of you could never expect to get far, even in these moments when no one was at the room. But you hoped, prayed, that you could at least get to third base. Severen didn't hesitate to touch you now, groping at your breasts through your shirt, rubbing and pinching at your clothed nipples. It made your breath hitch, and you nipped at his lips and urged him on with a roll of your hips. He groaned at the contact, rutting back and slipping his hands under your shirt. While you appreciated the foreplay, your time was limited. It's why you pulled your hands from his hair and reached to unbutton the button of your jeans, quickly begging him with the words,

"Please, Severen, please touch me." And Severen didn't need to be asked twice. His hand wormed its way down your pants and you let out a frustrated whine when he rubbed you through your panties. He was such a tease, and you yanked at the hair at the nape of his neck to show your frustration. He chuckled into your kiss, before tilting his head and deepening your kiss. You were already soaked, you could tell. You couldn't remember a time you'd been so pent up. But, well, you couldn't remember a time where you'd gone this long without consistent, if not unsatisfying sex. At least you'd had the privacy of your own home to masturbate, but you hadn't even had that. Severens hand finally slipped under your panties, rubbing through your folds and making you moan pathetically into his mouth. He ate it up, and you knew you were probably boosting his ego dangerously high.

He used the calloused pad of his thumb to rub circles into your clit, nearly making you cry out at the attention and arch up into him. He started a fast pace, his thumb firmly pressing against the bundle of nerves. It made the fire roar inside your belly, and you felt his fingers gathering up your slick before traveling lower. He circled your entrance, not missing an opportunity to tease you, before he began to sink one inside. His hands were big and his fingers were thick, much thicker than yours. The feeling made you keen, and you thought that just a minute more of this and you'd be cumming around it.

Of course, he'd barely begun to pump the single digit inside of you before you heard a key in the door. You gasped, but he was ripping his hand away from your sex, and helping you button up your pants in a single second. You'd just zipped your zipper and Severen had just pushed himself off of you, deciding to pop his slick finger inside his mouth and suck your slick off, before the door opened. The two of you had sat up, but, it was clear from your flushed face that this wasn't all you'd been doing. In came Homer, a coke in his hand, and Severen glared at the younger vampire as he pulled a pillow over his crotch. He looked at the two of you, and a grin was quick to come to his face.

"Did I interrupt something?" And suddenly you understood why Severen was so mean to the kid sometimes. The pair of you sat with your backs against the headboard, as Homer had refused to leave to give you a few more minutes of privacy. He sat on the floor to watch TV, and you glared at the screen mourning your ruined orgasm. When the pair of you had not so subtly suggested, he'd replied, "Oh, go back to what you were doing. Pretend like I'm not even here." And it had earned him a pillow to the back of the head.

All hopes of him leaving were dashed when Jesse and Diamondback came back to the room, and you sunk into the bed completely defeated. Severen didn't look any better than you, and Diamondback had even asked,

"Did something happen?" As if the pair of you had a fight. You shook your head, and it wasn't long before all seven of you were back in the room. You leaned against Severens chest stared at the TV, zoning out more than anything as he combed his hands through your hair. Thought flashes through your mind. Replays of the feelings from only a little while earlier. Severen had definitely known what he was doing, and, even if you'd gotten close, you hadn't even began to touch him. Quickly, your images of Severen teasing you flipped. You replayed the groan you had earned from him, imagining being able to draw more sounds like that from him. How his skilled hands would tangle into your hair, similar to the way they were petting your head now. How he would guide your head, and, probably, hold you down to slip his dick down the rest of your throat. You imagined going further, how deep he'd be able to fit inside you. If you were honest, you didn't know truly how big he was. Well, you could arrange to figure out soon. But your thoughts continued. You mused about how easily he could pick you up, hold you down. Being whatever he was did have a few advantages. You bit your lip for a moment, a particularly tantalizing image of him pinning you down by your arms, no your throat, appearing in your mind.

You gulped at the thought. After a few more minutes of sulking and fantasizing, a thought occurred to you. While there was practically no hope of all of them leaving, that didn't mean that the pair of you had to stay. Usually, you weren't the type for anything as risque attempting to get off without four walls surrounding you, but desperate times called for desperate measures. You looked at the time, and bit your lip when you saw that it was 4 am. Dawn was still an hour or so away, and you looked towards the brunette sitting besides you. You leaned over to kiss his cheek, if only to catch his attention away from the TV.

"Wanna go for a walk?" You asked, and Severen arched a brow at you. Usually, you weren't one for walks at night, but he was quick to nod. Severen trailed after you everywhere, and you doubted he'd let you go out at this time of night without him. You hopped off the bed and tugged him by his hand, and Diamondback called after the pair of you,

"Watch the time." Even if you knew that was mostly for Severen. Once the door had shut behind you, you grinned and pulled him down the hall. The outside air was cool, and you giggled at the pure excitement running through you. Severen smiled along, trying to catch you by your waist as he asked,

"What's gotten into you?" And you turned around to stop and give him a grin. The pair of you had found the bottom of the stairwell. It was a small little room, but, just under the stairs, it was slightly secluded. Tucked away where no one could see. You flushed a little as you tried to think of your words, playing with his shirt as you tried to figure out how to phrase them. You were never good at flirting, and it was embarrassing what you were about to tell him. Instead, you decided to tug on his shirt and tug him back into the darkness, tip-toeing up to press kisses to his jaw. He followed you until you pushed his back against the wall, tilting his head down so he could capture your lips. His hands moved down your sides, and Severen was quick to recapture his fervor from earlier. He reached down to grip your ass, making you moan into his mouth before one of his hands moved to your front. He rubbed and cupped you through your jeans, and you arched your hips into the touch. But, before you could become completely sidetracked, you reached down to start undoing his jeans. He was quick to pull away from the kiss, his eyes swirling with lust, but he said,

"Wait, wait, not here- I wanted to do something nice-" And while you were flattered that he'd thought far ahead enough to want to plan something, you quickly shushed him. You placed a finger over his lips, before leaning up to peck them. When you fell back on your heels, you told him,

"Don't get ahead of yourself, cowboy." And you were surprised by the surge of confidence that ran through you. You didn't know why, but that was the boost you needed. He smiled down at you, grinning wickedly at the nickname before he watched you fall down to your knees. You unbuckled his belt, deciding that this was the best way to answer a few of your questions. You'd pushed his shirt up as you made work of his pants, sucking a hickey into his side, before you were reaching in to rub him through his underwear. He hardened under his fingertips, and you made work of trailing little red spots above his waistband. When you got to his happy-trail, you nosed along the line of hair before you were finally pulling his underwear down and letting his cock spring free.

It was long and thick, and slightly bigger than you'd expected. But, that didn't stop you from licking the side all the way to the tip, wrapping your lips around it and starting to massage it with your tongue. While you'd only really been with one guy, you had some practice. Even if Severens dick was bigger than what you were used to working with. You looked up, seeing that he'd leaned his head back against the wall. He was never one to stay quiet long, and he quickly began coaxing you through it.

"Just like that, yeah. You can take a little bit more, can't you?" He asked, his hand finding its way to the back of your head. You'd started up a steady rhythm, and he lightly pushed you to take more and more of his length. Your jaw was already starting to ache, but you forced through it and took him down deeper. His voice had gone a little rough around the edges, and he said, "Good girl. Just like that." And, god, you were wet just from the sound of his voice. His hips moved with the rhythm you'd started, pushing himself further and further down your throat until he nudged the back of it. You did you best not to gag, but, soon, it seemed as thought he was no longer content to let you keep control. He paused your head, pushing it further down to earn a muffled whine and you quickly did your best to keep your throat relaxed. He grinned, and then said, "Keep that pretty mouth of yours open, darlin'." He said, reaching down to massage your jaw. He gripped you by your hair, keeping it so you couldn't move your head as he began thrusting into your mouth. His place started slow and nice, giving you a moment to get used to it before all you could do was let your mouth hang open as he pistoned himself inside your mouth. You could feel tears pricking in your eyes, the quick pace making it so drool was dribbling down your chin. You could feel his dick twitch inside your mouth, hear him as he whispered huskily, "Yeah, just a little bit more," and then-

You heard heavy footsteps stomping down the stairwell and Severen ripped you off his dick. He was quick to tuck himself away and fix his pants, and he helped you up off of the ground. You did your best to wipe the drool off your chin as Severen fixed his belt, and the pair of you walked around the stairs to act as if the pair of you were heading back up. You passed a stranger, obviously one staying in the motel just like you, and you could hear Severen cursing under his breath. The only thing you could make out was,

"Fucking blueballs-" And you covered your mouth, stifling a laugh. He whipped his head towards you, and you quickly cleared your throat to cover it up. Still, you thought perhaps it was just a little funny.

Subtle revenge, you thought. Even if it hadn't been intentional. He scoffed, looking around and then backing you up against the wall. You squeaked, and one of his hands cupped your chin and squeezed your cheeks. His light eyes were shrouded in darkness, and he leaned down close to whisper,

"Laugh at me again and I'll fuck that mouth raw. Got it?" He asked, and you tried not to think about the heat pooling in your belly from his threat. You knew that Severen would never do anything you didn't want him to, but the idea of him being even less restrained? Of him taking control? It made your eyes hooded as you stared up at him. You gave him a quick nod, and he looked over your face for a moment before leaning down to recapture your lips. He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, letting his teeth graze against it in a way that made you whimper. Your mouth was already sensitive, and his kiss was bruising. His hands wandered, groping whatever he pleased and making you arch into the touch. When his thumb rubbed over one of your nipples, you grabbed his hand and arched into his touch. You whimpered, the sound needy and pathetic, and, for a moment, you thought Severen was gonna hike you around his hips and take you right there. He didn't, and a wave of disappointment filled you. Instead, he swiped his thumb across your bottom lip and said, "Car?" And you thought he was a genius.

Your "clan" had picked a truck with a cap earlier that evening, one that Severen had taken straight off the lot. The first night you'd watched him do it, you'd been fascinated with how quick he was with a hanger. The second the doors were closed the pair of you were back on eachother. There was a semblance of privacy, one that let the pair of you slow down just the tiniest bit. He kissed you over and over until you were putty in his hands, and you heard him start to unfasten his own belt so you could finish what you had started.

“How can I help you, pilgrim?” He asked, and the annoyance was clear in his voice. Whatever this intrusion was for, it wasn’t welcome. Caleb smiled, a tinge of knowing in his eyes, and he gave you a smile before he said,

A knock on the window of the truck nearly scared the shit out of both of you, and Severen looked through the darkened window to see the slightly dirty face of his brother. Caleb. Severen leaned back in the seat, cursing, before he began cranking the window down.

“Diamond’ wanted me to tell you that sun’s up in a half hour.” Caleb said, and Severen gave him a hard glare. Caleb was chewing a toothpick, and it was one of the first times you’d seen him without Mae. It seemed that cock-blocking the pair of you was a game that both of Severen’s brothers enjoyed.

“Tell her I said thank you.” Severen replied, and then went to close the conversation with a few rolls of the window. Before he could, Caleb piped up. From the look in Severen’s eye, you almost thought he was gonna give him a black eye.

“There’s a camera right there, y’know.” Caleb said, pointing towards a security camera neither of you had spotted before. Right under it was a sign telling them that the parking lot was under twenty-four hour surveillance. You blushed bright red, suddenly thankful for the intrusion. The brunette besides you gave you a look, and he seemed to be able to tell that if you were going to continue your earlier action, it wasn’t going to be here. Severen sighed and shook his head, then gave Caleb a grin as fake as canned cheese.

“Thank you, Caleb. You can leave now.” Severen said, his voice dripping with faux-kindness. Caleb must’ve enjoyed pulling on Severens chain, or at least he might’ve enjoyed brushes with death. Because Caleb had the gall to continue as he stepped back, saying,

“Oh, I might go for a walk. Isn’t that what y’all said you were gonna do? You two get far?” And Caleb’s double-meaning wasn’t lost on the two of you. Severen opened the door, as if he really was going to beat Calebs ass, and the light haired brunette laughed and jogged away from the silent threat of violence. Severen slammed the door closed and sighed, leaning back in his seat with his eyes closed for a moment. You were still curled up next to him, and you gently pet at his chest before you laid his head on his shoulder. It seemed neither of you were getting far that night, and you opted to cuddle up to him instead. Softly, you told him,

“We’ll figure something out.” And he let out a soft grunt in response. He reached down to fix himself in his pants, giving his dick a squeeze to try to lessen the pressure. You leaned over, kissing at his jaw until he turned his head to press his lips against yours. After a quick slide of his lips, he offered,

“We could get in the back.” And you gave him a small glare in response. He sighed, and you could practically hear his train of thought. Swing and a miss. He leaned back in to give you another short, sweet kiss, and you ran your hand over his thigh, trying to find purchase. His breath hitched for a moment, and he said, “Don’t tease.” Before he leaned back in, deepening the kiss.

You didn’t get to do much more than makeout in the truck, but you’d taken your extra bout of time with eachother to talk lightly. It was nice, just laying on his chest and listening to him speak. You’d gotten to ask a few questions, and you’d specifically asked about his age. He’d grinned for a moment as he laid his head back, and vaguely said,

“You know about the Chicago fire?” He asked, and you furrowed your brows. It didn’t take long to put together what he was telling you. They set fires each night, and you lifted your head off his chest.

“That was you?” You asked, poking his chest. He laughed, nodding and continued with,

“Me and Jesse. It was just me and Jesse back then.” You hummed, thinking about what he’d told you. You tried to remember what year that fire was, thinking back to your highschool classes. You wanted to say 1870-1872. It was the 80’s. The 1980’s. That meant that Severen was over a hundred years old, not including any time before that and the years he’d spent as a human. And Jesse, you assumed, was older. You propped your chin on his chest, staring at him for a moment. You smiled as you said,

“Homer was right.” You whispered, and he furrowed his brows and looked at you. “You are too old for me.” You clarified, laughing at the look that crossed his face. He rolled his eyes, before quickly grabbing you and tickling your side. You laughed, almost a little too loud, but he was pressing further, pressing you back until you fell back against the seat. He tickled you until you were crying for mercy, and he said,

“I guess I’ll just have to eat you then.” He teased, playfully growling and mouthing at your neck as he tickled your sides. It took several cries of uncle before he ceased his tickling and clamped his lips over yours. He’d climbed on top of you, settling between your legs and trying his best to fit in the cramped truck. You giggled into the kiss, the after-shocks of adrenaline still running through you. You combed your fingers through the back of his hair, letting him pull away from the kiss to trail kisses to the corner of your lips, and then up your jaw.

“You won’t.” You told him, and you could feel that it was true to the core of your bones. “You like me too much.” You said with a giggle, and he kissed right under your ear before he was pulling away. He pulled so he could stare at you, brushing your hair away from your face and trailing his fingers over the exposed line of skin of your neck.

“Plus, I’d rather eat you out instead.” He teased, and you scoffed and pushed him away.

#near dark severen #severen near dark #near dark 1987 #near dark #severen #severen x reader #literally didnt edit this so if its wonky dont tell me

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