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darling-i-read-it · 4 years ago

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The Great Red Dragon

3x08

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, dead bodies, blood, surgery, canniblism

Author’s Note: I LOVE will graham and you can tell in this chapter i kinda went ham with my absolute adoration for him. Usually i try and hold back but im to sad to tonight so here is this love letter to will graham

I used some direct quotes from the script so some things may seem familiar

Official Episode Summary: As events jump forward three years, Jack seeks help as he pursues Francis Dolarhyde, AKA `The Tooth Fairy Killer'.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director

Tag List (is always open!) : @llperfectsymmetryll @ericacactus @vlightning95 @sweetgoodangel

(not my gif) (can you tell i love will graham. i feel like its excessive now but he is so handsome in this episode and every epsiode but this episode too)

Alana Bloom sat on an uncomfortable chair. The divider between her and Hannibal Lecter was a thick, clear plastic. To Hannibal they were sitting together at his desk. To her, to the reality of her, he sat in his jail cell. The two of them seemed comfortable with each other once again, now that there was no way Hannibal could lay his fingers on her again.

It was the only reason Alana agreed to stay.

“Congratulations, Hannibal. You’re officially insane.”

In front of Hannibal were different and various papers. A newspaper sat there, detailing a family slaughtered in Buffalo.

“There’s no consensus in the psychiatric community what I should be termed,” he said.

“You’ve long been regarded by your peers in psychiatry as something entirely Other. For convenience, they term you a monster.” Hannibal’s eyes flickered up, away from his papers and on to her. She had cleaned herself up since they were last close. The suit she wore made her look distinguished. Her hair up in curls. Sophisticated.

“What do you term me?” he questioned.

“I don’t. You defy categorization.”

“Do you still prefer beer to wine?” he questioned. She pursed her lips, remembering bad memories.

“Stopped drinking beer when I found out what you were putting in mine.”

“Who,” he corrected. She gave the slightest of nods.

“Who.” She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “This means you’ll be spared the federal death sentence. They had enough to convict you dozen times over.”

“A baker’s dozen. Lest we forget Mason Verger. You’re welcome.”

“You’re welcome Hannibal. The needle was guaranteed. But you beat it all on an insanity plea.”

“I’m not insane.” Alana nodded. She understood that.

“You know that and I know that. A dozen or a baker’s dozen, enough people have died.”

“You haven’t,” he pointed out simply.

“A promise in waiting, isn’t it? A promise you intend to keep.”

“I always keep my promises.” His lips flew into a small smile. Alana simply adjusted her spot in the seat.

“Get out of my chair, Frederick.”

Chilton stood up from Alana’s chair. Since she had become the director of the asylum things had been changed. For the better. Chilton was crooked, despite his frequent placing in her chair. She walked over and sat down at her desk and reorganized the documents that Chilton had been messing with.

“Shall we join hands in prayer of gratitude? ‘Thank you, Father, for allowing us to remove this monster, monster of monsters, from your flock. Thank you on behalf of the souls We will spare of pain.’” Chilton stood at the other side of her desk now.

“Thank you on behalf of the monster.” She leaned back in her chair. “Was that the magisterial We?”

“It’s our cabal, yours and mine. Hannibal Lecter will spend the rest of his life in a state institution, watching the diaper cart go by.”

“We lied. You wrote a book of lies,” she pointed out.

“Not difficult to see lies flying above my head, but it is almost impossible to shoot them down,” he pointed out.

“You should be lucky that Y/N is a respectable woman. She should have sued you for what you insinuated between her and Hannibal,” she pointed out.

“You say that only because you couldn’t sue me for speaking the truth about you and Hannibal.” He dragged a finger along the desk. “I wasn’t invited to the wedding though.”

“You held the groom at this asylum when you ran it,” she pointed out.

“Still. I put the actual murderer in jail.”

“I’m pretty sure they did that.” She picked up her pen. “Either way, Hannibal will shoot down your lies. He’s written a brilliant piece for The American Journal of Psychiatry.”

“Everything he writes is always about problems he doesn’t have,” Chilton said.

“What he’s written is going to be your problem. It’s not so much an article as it is a rebuttal.” She smiled to herself. “He has an acid pen.”

Will stood out by the shed. The dogs were balancing around him, running around and barking happily. Will was bundled against the cold although you had been the person who threw all of the layers at him. The dogs kicked up the snow. He was repairing the fence out there, something to keep busy.

He looked up the gravel driveway and a black SVU came down the track.

He let out a sigh, caught by the cold.

Jack Crawford came out of the car.

“Don’t want to talk inside?” Jack asked as Will handed him a mug of hot cider. Several stray dogs lay and mill at their feet as Will leaned against the porch railing. “Don’t want to let me inside. Come too far to let the cold stop me, Will.”

Will pursed his lips.

“Bold of you to show up.”

“Where’s Y/N?” he questioned.

“Making dinner. She didn’t hear you coming up and was, lucky for you, unaware I was making two cups of cider.” Will was relaxed but his tone was uneven.

“You don't want to talk about it here,” Jack said.

“I don't want to talk about it anywhere. You’ve got to talk about it, so let’s have it. Just don’t get out any pictures. There’s no point in doing that.”

“How much do you know?” Jack questioned.

“Two families killed, in their homes, a month apart. Similar circumstances,” Will said. You and him and passed the newspaper to each other at breakfast. Looked into it.

“Not ‘similar’. The same. You ever think about giving me a call?”

“If I ever thought about it Y/N would divorce me on the spot. But I didn’t think about it,” he admitted.

“You know what it is,” Jack said.

“I didn’t think about calling you because I didn’t want to. I don’t think I’d be all that useful to you, Jack. I never think about it anymore. I don’t believe I could do it now.” Will looked down at the lakeshore and Jack pulled out two pictures from his jacket pocket. He flipped them out on the table. Will looked down at them.

“All dead. This freak seems to be in phase with the moon.” Jack tapped the photos. “Killed the Jacobis in Chicago almost four weeks ago. Full moon. Killed the Leeds family in Buffalo night before last. One day short of a lunar month. If we’re lucky we have a little over three weeks before he does it again.”

“Will!” Your voice carried in from the home. Both men looked over.

“Looks like your luck has run out Jack.” You opened the door to alert Will that dinner was done. Upon seeing Jack you stopped. For a moment you were wordless. You looked down at the two pictures on the table, at Will, and then back at Jack. You recognized those people from the newspapers. You took in a deep breath and held your composure.

“If you want to by any chance keep your head I would recommend picking up those pictures, putting them back in your pocket, getting off my goddamn porch and driving your car back to where you came from,” you said evenly. “And give me that cup of cider.” Jack handed it to you and you snatched it, allowing it to spill on your hand without a reaction. “We need Will’s help. More of these families are going to die,” Jack said.

“I’m not going to let this happen again. I let it happen once.”

“You would sacrifice families lives for the miniscule chance one person gets a little hurt?” You stepped forward to him but Will lifted his hand. You stopped but you were still pretty close.

“If that one person is Will then yes. He’s saved enough lives.”

“He isn’t going anywhere,” Will said. You looked up at him and stepped back.

“Dinner is done,” you said and turned back into the house. Jack and Will shared a look.

“So,” Will started, pushing himself off of the balcony railing. “Joining us for dinner?”

You sat beside Will who was at the head of the table. Jack observed the house. It looked simplistic, comforting. On the small shelf by the table were picture frames. Each one of both of you. One when you were fishing, a small fish in front of your face as you laughed. One of Will by the fireplace in the Baltimore house. A couple from the wedding of the two of you looking happier than Jack had ever seen.

Jack had been at the wedding. Will invited him discreetly and because you were so distracted by your own happiness you couldn’t fight. You looked amazing. It had been a long time coming that day and when it did come everyone celebrated. There were even pictures of you, Margot and Alana on that day, cheering to a new beginning.

“People dump small dogs here all the time. I can give away the cute ones, rest, stay around and get to be big ones,” you muttered, petting the dog at your feet.

“You’ve always been a sucker for strays,” Will said.

“You’re not fooling anyone Will.” You stabbed at the plate and took a bite. Will placed a hand on your thigh and kept it there. You put your hand on top of his destreetly.

“Got a nice life here,” Jack said.

“I’m lucky here. I know that,” Will said.

“Surprised there aren’t any kids yet. Bella and I wanted them but with my job we could never fit it in.” The mention of Bella would make you sympathize with him and he knew that. Despite having calmed down a bit you still held up a good face.

“We have a lot of dogs although I can’t say we haven't been trying,” Will said. His face flushed a bit but you were so mad still you couldn’t even be flustered. Will knew there were some things you needed to say to Jack that you couldn't’ say in front of him. “I’m going to take the dogs out to pee.” He tapped your thigh once more before letting his hand leave as he stood up from the dinner table. You nodded numbly as he left, watching him go.

Your gaze went back to Jack.

“When you came into his classroom that day I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt but you failed me Jack. Countless times, you failed me.”

“You left me there to die In Florence.” You smiled.

“A fond memory.” You placed your fork down carefully. “You’re going to take him no matter how much I want to kill you for it.”

“I have to. I’ll make it as easy on him as I can. He’s changed. It’s great you got married.” You nodded.

“He’s better and better. He doesn’t have nightmares anymore.” You paused and collected yourself. “He was really obsessed with the dogs for a while. Now he just takes care of them. He doesn’t talk about them all the time. Doesn’t worry about them.”

“I know what it is I’m asking Y/N. And I wished to God I didn’t have to.”

You smiled slightly at what you were about to say.

“If he decides to go, and that’s a big if, he will not be going alone.” Jack nodded slowly. He figured this would happen. There was nowhere he went you would not follow.

“I know.”

“And you’re willing to deal with me for as long as it takes to get rid of this killer?”

“If I have to.”

You sat on your bed. The world was quiet out here. You loved it. Will loved it. It was why you got it together, your first joint home purchase. Will was taking off his shoes and you put your arms around him from behind.

He cuddled his head against yours. He could feel your breath against his skin when you spoke.

“I don’t want you to go, you know that.”

“I don’t imagine you’ll let me go alone,” he whispered. “But you know if I go, I’ll be different when I get back.” You nodded.

“I loved you at your worst and I’ll love you for the rest of the time you’ll let me,” you promised. You kissed him tenderly and his hands rested on your cheek, moving your body with his other hand so that he didn’t have to crane his neck.

Darkness moved around the bedroom peacefully. You slept beside Will but he was awake. He looked over at you and then slid out of bed. He pulled open a drawer quietly and took out a letter. The envelope is addressed to Will and Y/N, through the FBI. He hadn’t shown you this yet. He wasn’t sure if he should.

But you had felt him get up. Years of feeling when he was having a nightmare trained you for that kind of moment. You sat up and slid out of bed. Will looked over to you.

“What’s that?”

“I wasn’t going to show it to you.”

You walked over to him and put your arms around him from behind. You looked at the letter and the second you saw the handwriting you froze.

“Is it directed to you?”

“Both of us.”

You took it from his hands and stood up straight.

‘Dear Will and Y/N, we have all found a new life, but our old lives hover in the shadows, like incipient madness. Soon enough, I fear Jack Crawford will come knocking. I encourage Will, as a friend, not to step back through the door he holds open. I don’t doubt Y/N will protest against this ever happening but in case her will is not strong enough I must promise that there is darkness on the other side of the door and madness is waiting.’

You handed him the paper.

“I’m calling the girls from down the street. Their teenagers will watch the dogs.”

Will and you looked through the Leeds house. The two of you looked at the bloody remnants of what had happened there. You weren’t there to observe though. You were there for moral support.

His eyes were shut for a while. You watched him stand there. You were silent.

Until he opened his eyes and a deep breath left his lips. You quickly approached him and hugged him tightly. He hugged you back, catching his breath in your arms.

“Jimmy you’re the light of my life,” Jack said.

“I know. The print’s smudged. Came off Mrs. Leeds eye. Never did that before. Never would’ve seen it, but it stood out against an eight-ball hemorrhage,” Jimmy explained. You, Will, Jack, Jimmy and Brian all stood in the morgue together. He kept stealing glances at you and Will whose thoughts were elsewhere. “I just...I can’t believe you’re back. I’m surprised you're back.”

“I’m surprised Y/N didn’t drag Jack's dead body in here,” Brian said. He hit Will’s back. “Welcome back.”

Jack looked up from his desk to see Will and you standing before him. You were both looking at the information sheet.

“You were asking about the dog. Last night, a vet called the police. Leeds and his oldest boy brought it into the bet the afternoon before they were killed,” Jack explained.

“What’s going to happen to it?” Will asked.

“Please don't worry about the dog.” Will smiled a bit.

“What do you expect me to do?” he whispered. You smiled at him. Ever the sweetie.

“Best you can, that’s all. Busyworks been a narcotic for me sometimes, especially after I quit the booze. For you too, I think,” Jack said.

“There’s something else we can do,” you started. You paused for a moment. You and Will had talked this over just briefly but you understood it was what you needed. “We can wait until Will is driven to it by desperation in the last days before the full moon. Or we could do it now, while it might be of some use,” you finished.

“Is there an opinion you want?” Will nodded slowly.

“We have to see Hannibal.”

3x09

#hannibal lecter x reader #will graham x reader #will graham imagines #hannibal lecter imagines #hannibal imagines #will graham x reader x hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham

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mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years ago

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Gift of Magi; Brian May x reader

*Author’s note*

Here is yet another little special Christmas fic I have for you all. If you loved my Joe Mazzello one then you guys are REALLY GONNA ROT YOUR TEETH WITH THIS SWEET FIC. As you can see by the title, this is inspired by the beloved Christmas tale of the same name, for a year now since getting into the Queen/BoRhap fandom I’ve wanted to do this fic with one of the members of Queen but I didn’t know which one to do it with. Finally after doing some thinking and planning and realizing I hadn’t really done a solo Brian May fic in a long time, I decided our beloved space poodle DESERVED this story. Enjoy my lovelies :)

Warnings: TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Brian’s sickness (takes place in 1974 so that’s when he had his hepatitis scare along with some other things I had read up that happened during that time), Roger’s chaotic behavior, Freddie being a loving fairy godmother (you’ll see soon enough), and fluff, fluff, and you guessed it EVEN MORE FLUFF!!

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@queensdivas

@queen-paladin

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queendeakyy

@geek-and-proud

@wormzteef

_______________________________________________________________

There it was. The perfect gift for Brian. The Refractor telescope, 30 power. Don’t ask me what I just said cause I wouldn’t be able to tell you what all it does. All I can say is that Bri’s been eyeing this bad boy for years and with an empty tripod he’s had since graduating University, he needed something to look up at the stars with (one of his classes he had to rent out a telescope and then return it to the professor once the semester ended).

Yeah dating an astrophysicist Rockstar is one thing, but shopping for said astrophysicist rockstar is another, especially around the holidays and birthdays. Sure he says all he needs is my love but I want to prove myself to him. Plus I want to give him something special after the major health scare he had when he and Queen were touring with Mott the Hoople at the beginning of the year.

It was horrifying but I was there to help Brian recover from his Hepatitis scare and assure him that the band wasn’t going to replace him (bless his little heart, he was so sure the band was gonna abandon him) but they didn’t and they were there whenever they could, also they would send in some demos for me to play for Brian so that he could still have a say in the songs for their Sheer Heart attack album.

Now that Queen was slowly now getting recognized for their talents after “Killer Queen” made the top 10 in the charts, scratch that the entire album was going up the charts I wanted Brian to have something special to go with his tripod.

I took out my wallet and counted up my tips that I had been saving all year to buy this telescope. I was still a few pounds short but after today I should finally have enough to buy the telescope for my guy.

“Don’t you worry Bri. You’ll see the stars once again.” I put the money back in the side pouch of my purse and looked down at my watch. “Shit I’m gonna be late for work!” I exclaimed and quickly raced down the block towards the tree shop. I had taken a second job at the Christmas tree shop to help with getting better tips for Brian’s telescope.

When I finally arrived, I walked into the open tree lot and punched in my timecard before the loud exclamation of my boss’ voice cried out.

“YOU’RE LATE!!”

“I’m sorry sir, I was……”

“Doesn’t matter! Now get out there and get those papers organized we’ve got customers out there who need trees!” I nodded and quickly went over to my desk and took out some of the reserved papers that some people filled out to confirm their tree orders.

The day was long and cold but every little penny counted. I filled out the paperwork, helped the customer’s find their tree and even bypassed the boys at the shop and helped put the trees on top of the customer’s cars.

“Welcome to Mad Pete’s Tree shop how may I help you?”

“Yeah see my mate here is looking for a pretty cute tree, around (y/h), (h/c) and has two of the star glistening eyes he’s ever seen.” I looked up and low and behold there stood Roger and Brian.

“Really Rog? Did you have to go and say all that?”

“Hey bout time you got a taste of your own medicine of what we’ve had to deal with everytime you miss (n/n)!” I shook my head softly chuckling.

“So you guys really here to shop for a tree or are you trying to get me into trouble with the boss again?”

“Hey Fred and I did not cause that fire!” Roger defended himself.

“You guys were the only ones smoking at the time, you’re lucky I didn’t get fired from that little stunt.” I sassed him. Brian gave him a disapproving look while Roger tried to brush it off, but as soon as he saw my scowl, he submitted and put on that puppy dog face of his.

“Sorry lovie. Can you forgive me?” I went up to him and embraced him.

“Of course I do yah big puppy dog.” I ruffled his long golden locks which made him exclaim as he tried to fix his hair back to normal.

“Oi! Do you know how long it takes for me to get my hair like this? It’s called a miracle darling.”

“Now you didn’t answer my question, what are you guys really doing here?”

“We figured we’d go and get us a tree since we couldn’t get one last year. Since we got some money now instead of hardly anything.” Brian said.

“Ahh I see. Well let’s see what I can help you with. Follow me gentlemen.” I guided them towards the back and there were some of the smaller trees that hadn’t been reserved and that could be affordable for Bri and Rog. “I know it’s not much but I know you guys can afford these trees. Pete’s been trying to skyrocket the prices, especially for his prized 10 footers.”

“It’s perfect love, thank you.” He kissed me softly on my lips. I slowly wrapped my arms around him when I felt him take my string necklace revealing my great grandmother’s diamond encrusted locket. “You know, that locket deserves a beautiful golden chain.”

“Brian.” I took his hand in mine and held it against my cheek. “You know you don’t have to.”

“But I want to. Just imagine in, that scared locket chained up to a beautiful chain around that pretty neck of yours.” I blushed and pressed my head against his chest.

“You flatterer. You may not know your way around the dance floor but you have a way with words. No wonder you’re an astrophysicist. Speaking of which, you still got that tripod right?”

“Yeah. I still keep it cleaned, even though I’ll never be able to afford a telescope of my own for years if I’m lucky.” Oh little does he know.

“Well you never know. Santa has his ways.”

“You know love, it’s kinda weird how you still believe in Santa Clause even at your age.” Brian said. I let out a dramatic gasp.

“How dare you! You are never told old to believe in Father Christmas. Right Rog?”

“Damn straight! Just ignore your boyfriend (n/n), he thinks he’s too clever for Christmas.” Rog said as he took me away from Brian and wrapped an arm around my neck.

“Now hold on I didn’t—” a throat cleared and that’s when I saw a middle aged couple with their two small children. The father who had a greying beard and wore some prescription circular glasses.

“Excuse me, we—we’re looking for a tree.” He said shyly.

“Oh did I hear you folks looking for a tree? Well step right over here and I’ll show you the best trees I’ve got!” Pete soon came in saying and guided the parents away from the smaller trees, right towards his prized 10ft. I glared at him and turned to the guys.

“Think you both can find a tree yourselves?”

“No worries love. Do what you’ve got to do. I’ll see you tonight though right?”

“Of course. I’ll be over at your flat by 6pm on the dot. At least I’ll be on time unlike you are, yah scatterbrain.” He gave me that disapproving scowl (you know where he tilts his head down and his brow raises up and a deep frown crosses his lips). I giggled and pecked his lips and said, “You know I love you right?”

“With those insults I’m starting to doubt it.” He mocked. I playfully swatted his arm which made him chuckle then I proceeded to follow the family to get them a more affordable tree.

After looking and looking through the very back of the lot, I had found the perfect tree that would suit the family just right. I took it around to where Pete had his 10 footers displayed.

“I really am sorry madam but the rest of my trees have been reserved, these are the only ones I’ve got. You don’t want these kids going without a tree this year do you?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“We are gonna get a tree? Aren’t we daddy?” the little girl around 5 years old said.

“But—this is all we have.” The father said as he took out what looked like one pound and threepenny pieces.

“Then that’s just enough for a down payment.” Mr. Pete said as he readied the contract. Okay that’s it.

“Ugg excuse me!” I made myself known. “I’m sorry to interrupt but uhh—I managed to find this out back. It hasn’t been reserved or anything, maybe you and your family would like this.” I walked up with the tree and set it down.

The kids all ooed and awed at it, it was just slightly bigger than the two of them were. The father shoved the contract back into Mr. Pete’s hands and he said to me joyously.

“We’ll take it! Oh thank you so much miss.”

“No problem, let me help you get this tree set up onto your car.” I took the father’s money for the tree and walked with them back to their car.

As they drove away waving and thanking me for the help, I waved goodbye back to them and wished them a Merry Christmas. I counted up my tips and felt my heart skip a beat.

“I did it. I—I actually did it! Oh it’s finally enough to get Brian that telescope!” I cheered as I jumped up and down until a shadow came over me. I stopped and slowly turned around and saw Mr. Pete seething down at me, his cigar bit between his yellow teeth.

“I HAD THEM HOOKED ONTO BUYING ONE OF MY TEN FOOTERS!!” he yelled in my face which made me slip and fall flat on my back in the snow. “And I’ve decided to take what I would’ve made out of your payment!” he snatched my bag of tips out of my hand.

“No let go of that! I need it for someone special’s Christmas gift!” I exclaimed as I tugged on the other end of it trying to take it back.

“Not. My. Problem!” he said. With one final good yank, I was once again back in the snow as Mr. Pete pocketed my tip bag. “And just for the record. YOU’RE FIRED!!” he walked away from me with my bag of tips. Not just from working at his lot but my waitressing job tips as well.

Of course I wasn’t upset about getting fired from the Christmas tree lot, I was just upset that all my hard work was now for nothing. Guess I’ll be going to Brian’s empty handed. I stood up, brushed the snow off my pants and walked away solemnly from the lot.

Thinking just how in the hell I’m gonna get Brian that telescope now. There’s no way I could come up with the money by 4 o’clock today.

*Brian’s POV*

After picking out the perfect tree from the lot, Roger and I drove down back to the flat. As we drove down the road I quickly said to Roger.

“Pull over.”

“What?”

“Just pull over Rog!” I snapped. He muttered angrily and pulled the car into the pawnshop parking lot and I quickly stepped out and went up to the window and saw it. The gold chain I’ve had my eyes on to give to (Y/n) to go with her locket.

“Forget it Bri, you’ll never afford it!” I heard Roger exclaim from the car. I glared down and turned towards him.

“You underestimate me Rog.”

“All I’m saying is that we barely had enough to buy this tree. Trident is really screwing us over with our payment. John’s trying his best but he can’t seem to prove it legally. Yet.” He said to me.

“I know. It’s just I want to give (Y/n) the perfect gift this year. After everything that’s happened especially with my health, I want to show her just how much she’s meant to me. Without her I—I doubt I would even be standing here right now.”

“Now don’t go getting sappy on me now mate. (N/n) is a diamond in the rough, but you know she’s never wanted any riches or fame. All she ever says she needs in the world is you. God now you got me talking sappy! I hate you both sometimes!”

“Oh what? Mr. Hard-rocker can’t take a little sweetness in his life?” I teased as I got back in the car.

“Shut up or I’ll run your arse over.” He threatened. I softly chuckled as Roger pulled away from the pawnshop.

Soon. I’ll get that gold chain soon enough. I just need to figure out a plan, but I only have 6 hours left so I need to think fast.

*My POV*

GRRRRR!!! Why can’t life be like a fairytale sometimes? I sure could use a fairy godmother right about now to give me enough money for Brian’s telescope. I sat down at a nearby park bench and fiddled with my locket.

“(Y/n)?” I perked up my head. “(Y/n) darling is that you?” I looked up and there I saw Freddie with row upon row of shopping bags.

“Freddie? Wha…..what are you doing here?”

“Doing some last minute Christmas shopping. Of course shopping for that man of yours is a nightmare! Okay a living hell! No offense.”

“None taken. He—can be difficult to shop for at times.” I said solemnly. Freddie cocked his head curiously like one of his cats and he asked me.

“You okay dear? No offense but you look like someone threw you in a dumpster and the dumpster spat you back out.”

“I could be better.” He came over and set his bags down at our feet and he said as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

“C’mon. You tell ol’ Freddie what happened darling? Why are you so down at this festive time of the year?”

“To put it bluntly, I got fired from Pete’s tree lot.”

“What?! Alright that’s it I am going to march straight down there and have a little chat with Mr. Pete.” I grabbed Fred’s arm and said.

“That’s not what’s bothering me though Fred. Honestly, I could care less whether or not I worked there next year or not.”

“Then what else happened that made you so sad?”

“If I tell you, will you promise not to tell Brian?” he gasped.

“Please tell me you’re pregnant.”

“What no! No! Fred that’s not it at all. You see, you know how Brian always has that empty tripod at yall’s flat?” he nodded. “Well I did some digging and found the perfect telescope that can go with his tripod. Since the start of the year I’ve been saving up all my tips just to get him that telescope. The tree lot’s really been helping my tips grow compared to my waitressing job. And today I managed to reach my goal.”

“Well that’s great so—”

“But that’s when Pete took my tip bag away. All of it.”

“What!? Why the fuck would he do something like that!?”

“Because I stopped him from selling this sweet family an expensive 10ft. tree. They knew they couldn’t afford it yet Pete was pressuring them. So I sold them a small and affordable tree and they were excited about what I showed them and took it. Pete said he was gonna take what he would’ve made off the tree out of my pay. So he took everything. My entire bag of tips that have been saved since this year.”

“That low-life…..you sure you don’t need me to go ‘speak’ to him?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore Fred. I only have 2 hours till the shop closes and no way of paying for that telescope. Now Brian will never be able to look up at the stars the way he dreams of doing.” I leaned my head against Fred’s shoulder and he wrapped his arms around me, gently rubbing my arm and pressed a soft kiss on top of my head.

“You know what I always found to be the cure for a sour face?” he asked me.

“What?”

“Trying on new clothes. C’mon let’s go down to BIBA and pick you something nice to wear for the party. My treat.”

“No, no Fred I can’t do that. Plus what about your shopping?”

“Ahhh I was done with it anyways. Now c’mon. Maybe taking your mind off of your sad morning will help you come up with a plan. And here why don’t you take this?” he reached down and grabbed one of his shopping bags. “It’s something I was planning on giving to that space man of yours, but it seems you need it more than I do.”

“Freddie I—I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll take it. That way you can at least not feel guilty of coming to our flat empty handed. And maybe give me a sneak peek of what to expect from you for my Christmas present.”

“In your dreams Mercury. I never spill Christmas secrets.”

“Damn it!” he pouted.

“C’mon you, I was promised a shopping trip so I expect you to deliver.”

“Darling have you met me?” he stood up and I helped him with some of his bags and the two of us walked towards BIBA.

After finally getting into a warm store, I shivered and rubbed my arms frantically trying to get some friction on them and warm myself up. Freddie and I then proceeded to try out some clothes.

Freddie was right. After awhile of trying out various types of clothing and giving Fred my personal opinion on what he could possibly wear for a future concert, I was starting to feel better. Currently I was trying on a winter hat and looking at myself in the mirror.

“Hold everything (Y/n) darling! I’ve found the perfect thing for you!” I heard Freddie exclaim all the way from the other side of the store. I buried my face under the hat as people looked towards me. Fred came racing over to me and he held up a cute red Christmas shawl with little snowflakes on it.

“Oh my god this is cute!” Fred then tied it around my neck but tied it in a fashion knot, making sure my locket was the key feature showing above my shawl.

“Figured this could go great with your great-grammy’s locket. That thing is worth millions.”

“Yeah. Pure diamond encrusted and……” I trailed off. “That’s it. THAT’S IT!! Fred what time is it?!” I asked him urgently.

“Uhh it’s uhh…..10 till 4.”

“Uggh! There’ll be no time to get there by the road. Nevermind I’ll just run. Yeah run as fast as I can to the shop and get Brian’s telescope! Thanks Fred you’re the best but you can take Brian’s gift back I think I’ve found the perfect way to get Brian that telescope!” I ripped the shawl off my neck and handed it back to Fred and raced out of BIBA and ran as fast as I could.

Now running and snow are not a good combination but I couldn’t stop now. Not even as I was slipping and sliding along the crosswalks, all that mattered to me was getting to that shop on time. I would look up towards Big Ben to see how much time I had left and time was running short.

I still had about six blocks till I got to the shop and I was down to my final 3 minutes on the clock. I soon spotted some teenager boys sledding up along some railings and bus benches. I walked up to one of them and quickly asked them if I could borrow his sled for a moment.

At first he pondered on the though till finally he agreed to let me have it. I told him where he could come collect it in the next five minutes and I proceeded to sled the rest of the way to the shop.

Now gaining some speed, I could see the shop just down the hill. I took a deep breath and proceeded to slid down the street towards the shop but as I got halfway that’s when Big Ben began to gong out the next hour. GONG……GONG…..GONG…..GONG!

Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! As I got to the bottom I saw the shop starting to close up, the lights went off and soon the old shopkeeper came out and locked up. I stood up and ran towards him.

“Wait sir wait!” he turned to me. He was an elderly man roughly around his mid-60s, he wore prescription glasses and his hair was white and thinning, he also was growing out a small white beard. “I—I was wondering if you’d be willing to make a trade?” I took my great-grandmother’s locket off my rope chain. “I was hoping to trade in this locket for that telescope you have on display. The 30 power Refractor one. It’s for my guy.”

He took the locket from my hands and observed it closely. He hummed sadly and said.

“Sorry ma’am. That there is a pretty locket but it won’t do much in my shop.” He handed me back the locket and pocketed his keys. “Well, Merry Christmas.” He told as he began to walk away.

“Please sir this locket was a family heirloom. It belong to my great grandmother back in the early 1890’s. It’s diamond encrusted and pure gold you can see if for yourself.” I said walking alongside him, showing him the locket once again. He sighed and told me.

“I know love but—what I sell in my shop is stuff people actually use in their lives. And as I said before as pretty and as valuable as that locket is, no one will want it in my shop.” I stopped and looked down heartbroken. He hummed sympathetically and continued as he placed a comforting hand on my shoulder “Tell you what, why not go down to the pawnshop across town and you can sell it there? Then once you got the money, come back here the day after Christmas and then we’ll discuss about that Refractor 30 power telescope.”

“But I need it by tonight. This was my last chance to get my Brian something special after the horrid year he’s had. I would give anything in the world to get him that telescope, even if it’s a precious family heirloom.”

“Anything?” he asked quizzically. “Tell me poppet what else are you planning on giving for that there telescope?” he said with his arms crossed.

“I’d give all my love if I could. As sappy as that sounds but it’s true. Brian he’s—” I looked towards the sky and could already see the first star in the sky. “He’s my shining star.” I heard the shopkeeper chuckle.

“Now that’s how you make a sale. Sure wish there were more young compassionate lovers like you and this man of yours. Reminds me of me and my wife Gertrude. God rest her soul. C’mon in come on in and we’ll discuss that trade.” I smiled and in my adrenaline of pure joy, I hugged the old man and heard him softly chuckle.

Later that night, I arrived at the boy’s flat ready for the Queen Christmas party. The boys along with Mary, Veronica, and Roger’s girlfriend Jo were all there by the time I arrived. We had a warm and delicious Christmas eve dinner and exchanged the gifts. First the guys gave out gifts to each other, then us girls proceeded to give our gifts to each other.

I had gotten Ronnie some baby clothes (yes she was a couple of months pregnant at the time and had given us the big announcement just a month ago). I gave Jo a copy of her favorite Jimi Hendrix album, and as for Mary I got her some new makeup from the latest designer line.

I had gotten some winter hats and scarves from Mary, a copy of my favorite Shakespeare play from Ronnie, and Jo got me the new Beatles album.

After most of the gifts had been exchanged, I quickly went to the back of the tree and pulled out my gift for Brian. I groaned and heaved it up.

“Jesus (n/n) what did you get him a pool table?” Roger asked as he lit up his cigarette.

“Ha-ha you’re hilarious Taylor.” I sassed sarcastically. I then turned to Brian and I said to him, “Hey Bri, why don’t you go get that tripod out from your room?” he chuckled nervously and fiddled around with his shirt collar nervously as he said.

“Actually….why don’t you open yours first? And maybe even let us see that locket of yours. I don’t think Jo’s ever seen it before.” Now I started getting nervous.

“Oh she wouldn’t be interested in that old thing. Here, why don’t we open our gifts together?”

“At least do something!” Freddie and John both slapped Roger over the head making him exclaim in pain. Brian handed me my gift, a small but beautiful wrapped box with a gorgeous red bow, while I carefully handed him my giant box.

The two of us unwrapped our gifts and opened up the tops and my eyes widened as I let out a soft gasp.

“A—a gold chain to go with my……locket.”

“Oh my god (Y/n)! You got me the Refractor 30 power telescope for my—tripod.” Wait why did he trail off at the end? I turned to him and saw that he had a sorrow-filled expression on his face.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?”

“Oh (Y/n) I love it. I really do, I’ve always wanted my own telescope it’s just—” he sighed heavily. “I just had to trade that old tripod to get you that gold chain.”

“What?”

“Pawnshop’s son was into space and he needed a tripod for his telescope. So I told the pawnshop owner that I had one since that one was practically collected dust instead of stars.” Oh Brian.

“And I traded my locket to get you that telescope.” Brian and everyone else softly gasped.

“Oh (Y/n), I can’t believe you would trade away a family heirloom for me.” Brian said.

“I would’ve given anything Brian. After—everything that’s happened this year. From your hepatitis scare, to the ulcer and even fear of losing your arm I—wanted to give you something special. I don’t care if it costed me an arm, leg or even my own heart. I would’ve done anything to at least see you smile that real Brian May smile I’ve come to love.”

He cupped the side of my face and brought me closer to him, our lips joining together in a soft, delicate, loving kiss. Of course Roger and Fred just had to make it embarrassing by telling Bri to give me more tongue.

“Come with me.” He silently said urgently as he guided me out to the small backyard behind their flat. “There now we got some privacy away from the pests that is Freddie and Roger. I swear those two are mentally 5 years old 24/7.”

“Well Fred is, Rog is more like 3 years old.” He snorted out a soft laugh.

“Anyways what I wanted to bring you out here to tell you is that while I appreciate what you did to get me the telescope, you didn’t have to trade your locket. I know how much it meant to you.”

“I know but like I said earlier, I would’ve given anything to see you smile again.”

“Just being by my side is enough to make me smile.” He said as he cupped each side of my face, his calloused thumbs caressed my cheeks. I smiled and he pressed his forehead against mine, our noses gently nuzzling against one another’s before he captured my lips in another kiss.

For the rest of the night, we all sang some Christmas songs, watched some Christmas films and when it got late we all decided to turn in for the night. I was in Brian’s room, the two of us cuddled up close on his bed.

“I just hope by next Christmas we’ll have ourselves a house.” He said.

“Let’s take it one step at a time my love.” I said as I tucked my hand into his unbuttoned t-shirt softly stroking his collarbone and gave the junction between his neck and shoulder a kiss. “For now I’m content to how this Christmas turned out.”

“Me too. Even though we basically recreated the gift of Magi tale.” I smiled and felt Brian kiss the top of my head which his fingers slowly stroked up and down my spine. “Happy Christmas my stardust.”

“Happy Christmas my space man.” Brian covered the two of us with his duvet and we fell into a peaceful slumber in his arms.

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sometimesrufus · 3 years ago

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I posted 412 times in 2021

172 posts created (42%)

240 posts reblogged (58%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 1.4 posts.

I added 915 tags in 2021

#rufus shinra - 304 posts

#sometimesrufus rp - 141 posts

#sometimesrufus answers - 139 posts

#reno of the turks - 87 posts

#anonymous - 56 posts

#vincent valentine - 48 posts

#sentineloftheunderworld - 45 posts

#reno2ndgun - 41 posts

#anon secretary - 27 posts

#ooc - 27 posts

Longest Tag: 105 characters

#really with all those boundaries established he only has himself to blame if he doesn’t play the good sub

My Top Posts in 2021

Lingerie

Bonus: Giving | Receiving | Both

Ooooh yes. As you may have noticed, Rufus is fond of aesthetics. Seeing his lover in lingerie is always a treat, but he might enjoy wearing it more. He is a huge tease and likes working people up.

12 notes • Posted 2021-05-18 15:46:31 GMT

WEIRD HEADCANONS

WHAT THEY SMELL LIKE: Cedar wood and gunpowder, but he wears cologne for the occasion that may trend more floral or more spicy.

HOW THEY SLEEP ( sleeping position, schedule, etc ): He sleeps on his back and generally doesn’t move, unless he’s with a partner. The he gravitates towards sources of heat. After sex it’s entirely possible he’ll doze off half on top of a partner. He has no sleep schedule. He’s a workaholic, and often goes until he simply can’t anymore, meaning he sleeps odd hours.

WHAT MUSIC THEY ENJOY: Eclectic, but prefers orchestral music. Unless he’s at a club, then he loves anything with a strong bass.

HOW MUCH TIME THEY SPEND EVERY MORNING GETTING READY: Classified.

FAVOURITE THING TO COLLECT: Tea cups. He saved his mother’s collection and often gets them as souvenirs. It’s one of the few things he’s sentimental about, but they’re not just for decoration. Anything Rufus Shinra buys has a function.

LEFT OR RIGHT-HANDED: Ambidextrous. He leans towards using his right, but he can do anything just a fluidly with his left.

FAVOURITE SPORT(S): He really can’t be bothered with them, but he enjoyed chocobo racing in middle school.

FAVOURITE TOURISTY THING TO DO WHEN TRAVELING: Buying a teacup, if they can be found. He’s not much of a tourist. He doesn’t have time.

FAVOURITE KIND OF WEATHER: Rufus likes hot sunny days, but prefers snow because it gives him an excuse to wear more layers.

WEIRD/OBSCURE FEAR THEY HAVE: Being alone.

THE CARNIVAL/ARCADE GAME THEY ALWAYS WIN WITHOUT FAIL: Shooting gallery.

TAGGED BY: @devilreno 😘 TAGGING: @redheadedplayer @sentineloftheunderworld @shivasmultimuse @clandestine-shadow aaaand anyone else who wants to play

15 notes • Posted 2021-01-19 06:03:41 GMT

I'm shook. I actually successfully ordered a PS5!

16 notes • Posted 2021-03-17 22:06:13 GMT

Meet the Muse

► Name ➔ Rufus Shinra.

► Are you single ➔ Verse dependent.

► Are you happy ➔ Perfectly.

► Are you angry? ➔ You’d better hope not.

► Are your parents still married ➔ Death parted them.

NINE FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ Junon.

► Hair Color ➔ Blond.

► Eye Color ➔ Blue.

► Birthday ➔ January 18.

► Mood ➔ Neutral.

► Sex ➔ Occasionally.

► Summer or winter ➔ Winter.

► Morning or afternoon ➔ Sunrise.

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ Verse dependent.

► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ No. (But also verse dependent. Looking at you stripper Reno.)

► Who ended your last relationship ➔ My father.

► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ Not intentionally.

► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ Commitments are afraid of me.

► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ No.

► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ Loads.

► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ Next question.

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ Lust. (He’s lying; he wants love.)

► Lemonade or iced tea ➔ Iced tea.

► Cats or Dogs ➔ Dogs.

► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ A few trustworthy subordinates.

► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ Romantic night in. (He used to have wild nights out.)

► Day or night ➔ Night

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ Yes.

► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ No.

► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ ...Yes.

► Wanted to disappear ➔ Impossible.

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ Eyes.

► Shorter or Taller ➔ Shorter.

► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ Intelligence.

► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ Hook-up (Don’t let him fool you, he wants a relationship.)

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ No.

► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ Yes.

► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ In a manner.

► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ Does being incarcerated in one of your homes count?

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ I would have to have friends first. (He doesn’t.)

► Do you consider all of your friend’s good friends ➔ Refer to previous answer. (The closest he’s ever had.)

► Who is your best friend ➔ N/A (Tseng.)

► Who knows everything about you ➔ No one. (That’s true.)

Tagged by: @sentineloftheunderworld

Tagging: @rcdwrxck @sixba @devilreno @redheadedplayer @oflockhearted and anyone else who wants to play.

18 notes • Posted 2021-01-31 00:52:37 GMT

My PS4 just died on me. I am nooooooot happy. :((((((((((((((((

21 notes • Posted 2021-02-01 01:40:44 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #ooc #long post #rufus shinra

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maskedjoker · 4 years ago

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We are getting really close to the scene in lost fragment of snow that was genuinely confusing in the book, and it's the scene were everyone in the circus is killed. I think what we will probably get is a scene were mana finally ends up giving into despair after he is hit and then allen is fed to a lion.

I think that with more current info, i can say for sure that sleeve earl and mana are a hybird. This will likely cause a resurgence of sleeve earl into taking over the body and becoming whole. This only lasts for a short time however and when cross confronts him after the rest of the circus has died from the audience turning into akuma(which i suppose are implied to be constantly just around the earl and is probably one of the many reasons cross warned Allen to stay away) some exchange of words or damage causes a lots of control. This damage however also hurts mana(or potentially just being forced out off control) causing him to loose even more memories as seen when mana and Allen reunite the next day.

Now i think we can agree that sleeve earl exists as a third entity, especially since her recent art exhibit interview, as she talked about the suit being a super sophisticated golem. I think in this case as with tim and lero yhat "golem" refers to AI. Id argue with the weird phrasing like helix of life and all the biotech style that magic is more often than not just more advanced technology, and wherever the noahs came from likely was, hence why they say they only seem strong because we have become so weak. This is only further shown with innocences resemblance to machines like its gear like parts and percentage resonance.

The noah memories in general i think are some kind of AI that passes through generation lines, carrying significant portions of its past forward and then fusing with a similar person in their lineage. For example early on road would have been just road, then through some means either became an AI(or was given a piece of someone that counts as one under golem, its unclear). Regardless once connected to the noah memory, it acts like a save file and becomes more sophisticated with time. It carries each life and gives all those memories, feelings and drives to a new body. So new road would remember being road, her life and everything, but also the life they had been living up until the two combined. Over time the noah memory keeps getting larger and larger to the point new experiences are so small, relatively speaking, that it overrides much more than normal. Since they are fuzed as one being they likely cant be separated without mutually assured destruction, were the current entity will die and any remains will not be the origionals, if anything remains at all. An example of this is that tyki could not be made human by Allen I their fight i the arc, despite having a blade that should destroy only part of him. Admittedly tyki is a special case though, and more tyki backstory is needed.

Changes from body to body become more subtle, but the base, which likely has a distinct core function as seen by its response to certain tasks and ideas, remains a strong aspect. This creates an almost reincarnation like effect for them, needing to only find a new body to continue.

The suit is like this, but different. I don't know how the original earl split, but i do think that some aspect of him was placed on the suit. I would like to say its the original version of the noah memories of the earl and nea got like a brand new copy, but i actually have no idea what memories he has of being past earl so its mostly a guess. Regardless the noah actually all seem to transform in some way when they get mega pissed. Im looking at you skinn, jasdevi, and tyki/joyd. So the suit is likely that kind of thing, but way more distinct and capable of acting autonomously. Since they all have different forms it makes sense that his would also be unique. They all probably represent some inner desire related to their memory. Skinn is just rage so big angry man works fine. Jasdero and devit are bonds so they want most to be one. Tyki got all fucked up before he changed so i got nothing, but it had a heavy does of sadism, which I guess is pleasure? Taking into account that killing in horrible graphic ways is his guilty pleasure it kinda makes sense.

So because of that, this sentient AI is constantly trying to pair with half a fucking brain because nea and mana only share one brain cell. Some kind of resistance from mana or strain causes him to constantly fall ill or comatose. Now to be clear on naming, sleeve earl does not refer to themselves as adam in the mirror scene nor does he refer to mana as adam, and only uses "we" when talking to mana about being the earl. Oddly enough the earls self pronouns are we, using wagashi which is kind of like the japanese equivalent of the royal we used in europe for the entirety of the series. For the record, mana in the flashbacks uses male or single they pronouns, i don't remember if he uses boku or watashi, but he uses at least one if not both.

So from this it seems millennium earl is a title, used by whatever is paired with the suit. Adam is the original name of the noah, and is the preferred name of the current earl aside from the title.

This circumstance was likely caused by the rest of the noah, who are using the earl for something related by the pillar. His separation either by accident or by intent was likely by the hands of his family trying to keep control for their ends. This is why the current earl is called a broken puppet and has so many things around him related to acting and stage plays. He is playing a role, the red clown to allens white clown as stated in the ark arc. He even wears a mask. His memories and mind have been damaged though, therefore broken. However broken puppet for both allen and the earl could also refer to a puppet that doesnt work as a double meaning, implying they can no longer be controlled or puppeted.

It is also implied that he is still unaware of this betrayal, but it is likely nea does to some degree as it would explain why he became a traitor and killed his own family. To be clear, i dont think all of the noah know everything, and i dont think they dont actually care for the earl. It seems they still genuinely follow him to their death and see him as one of their own, especially in cases like road, tyki and wisely.

Now early i said that different generations of noah would cope woth reincarnating differently. Since the earl only died once before 7000 years ago, id say resetting to a new body with only 17 years would be just smashed flat by any algorithm with that much data. However manas feelings are still the newest, and so still have an impact even on the current earl.

Now we come to resurrecting mana. How? Why? Well i dont know. But my guess is whatever part was the memories of mana for the 20 or so years he lived, or at least his memories at death, are in allen. His curse and weird hallucinations of mana seem to suggest it. Alternatively that part of his soul may have passed on, or it fuzed with the noah memory making the origional mana part of the hive and much like tyki and his noah memories cannot be seperated. Not good regardless.

As two additional things, i want to mention that hoshino is a twin and has always been obsessed with it, so having twins in her book was inevitable. What is extra weird is hoshino was actually going to be a triplet, but either her or her sister absorbed it before birth. She has mentioned it in dgm interviews and i cant PROVE it translates to anything in the plot but its suspicious. She also still list mana, nea and the earl as distinct in every book up to date in extra novels and at the start of her books. Oh and her favorite hat for the earl right now? The one featured on the most recent chapter? Has two faces on the front that are visible, and one in the back thats hidden, and the most recent art has the back face as the only one visible, angrily staring allen down. Great art foreshadowing if im right. Its also usually sleeve earl, if not exclusively, that wear it.

The second thing is mana talking about love and drive in the most recent chapter just brings up the earl having the noah memory of love or devotion or something for me. Ive written about it before but it just seems to fit. This character is all about that from the ability to fuze loved ones together to the hearts he talks with and his drives being based on grand acts of devotion, being by their side etc. Mana also loved and adopted both and dog and a homeless child and keeps talking about how the world is so beautiful despite all the bad. The earl literally acts like the whole noah clans mom by his own words and cooks for them, and both of them go out of their way to be cartoony to break tension. The earl literally goes and buys a single red rose from a poor girl while tyki pontificate on how he doesnt act like a villain. He doesnt take an umbrella because he wants to feel the rain. He talks about how what he does is in human nature and requires a connection between two people. He is even designed with his ideal colors as red and purple with white, as well as being designed after flowers. I know this probably doesnt make sense, but its stuck in my head.

#long post #ramble #mine #dgm #d. gray man #spoilers #theory #mana #nea #adam #millennium earl

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spaceorphan18 · 4 years ago

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Kurt Duets Ranked

Part 2 of my Kurt Performances series, we move onto duets -- which will probably the least exciting of conversations, because this isn’t going to be much different than my Klaine Duets rankings. I didn’t go check that, however, so we’ll see how I feel about them now that more time has passed.

Meanwhile, the thing about the duets section is that while there are a ton of great songs in this one, it feels limited. Glee didn’t like to stray from what it knew worked, and therefore, we get Kurt having only a handful of duet partners, and only two of them make up a majority of the songs. It’s unfortunate that we didn’t get more Kurt and Mercedes duets, but even more unfortunate that Kurt didn’t sing with a larger variety of people. I mean, could you imagine a season 4 Kurt/Santana duet? Or something season 1 or 2 with Kurt/Quinn? Lots of possibilities, little room for experimentation.

That said - I do enjoy a vast majority of these songs, and like the solos, most of them complement Kurt’s story nicely.

Kurt Duets Ranked:

27. Candles (Original Song, 2x16)

You guys can’t seriously be surprised by this, right? As with all of these numbers, I went back to listen to see if I’ve changed my mind. Nope. And here’s the funny part - I actually do like this song. But the arrangement, production, and context of this number is terrible. My theory is that Original Song had so many songs in it that they were rushed to get this one done. Coupled with the fact that that the arrangement was redone (by Darren? - idk, Darren’s usually better than this.) and probably rushed means that it was just sloppy by the time they got to production.

From a music point of view, the arrangement is not complementary to either of their voices, and both of them clash on harmonies and go out of tune multiple times throughout the song. On top of that, the emotion of the song is completely off. It’s a break up song -- purposely more tailored for the Finchel story line at the time -- but doesn’t mesh well with Klaine’s getting together story. It feels awkward and out of place, and one of those times where I think who ever picked this song made a bad choice.

I know there are those out there who like it -- and that’s great! Don’t let me slow you down. But it will remain a weak link in an otherwise solid discography.

26. Get Back (Tina in the Sky with Diamonds, 5x02)

While this is way, way better than Candles, I do think it’s a weaker number for Kurt, and Kurt/Rachel, seeing that you’ll see they have some fantastic numbers coming up on this list. Not a favorite Beatles song of mine in the first place, not helping is the fact that this song should have a grittier and harsher sound than either of these relatively more classically trained vocalists can give it.

There is some fun with the choreography (weird NYADA piano tuning thing aside - that’s not how you tune pianos...), and Kurt and Rachel’s voices mesh just fine, but the rest of songs on the list just offer a bit more.

25. Memory (Old Dogs, New Tricks, 5x19)

This one is... rough. And it makes me sad to say that about a song picked specifically by Chris Colfer. For Kurt’s part, it’s a perfectly adequate rendition of Memory, though I think it lacks any of the deeper emotion that Kurt normally brings to his solos. But marring it further is the addition of June Squibb (who doesn’t have the same caliber of voice) and the fact that the scene itself is a bit of forced sentimentality. I get what Chris was going for in the script, but we’ve barely met these people, and they’re not memorable enough for us to get a tug on the heartstrings that this song wants us to have. The scene just kinda falls flat. (I’m sorry Chris!)

24. Lucky Star (Old Dogs, New Tricks, 5x19)

I promise, I’m not picking on Chris, even if the two songs he specifically wrote for himself are down here at the bottom. At least this one has more entertainment value even if I think it’s not a great performance. Kurt flying around as Peter Pan is super cute, and the song choice works relatively well with the scene. Once again, though, June Squibb’s Maggie is not a vocalist (And that’s fine - she’s a super cute old person), as well as this is bogged down in that weird sentimentality Memory was going for. It’s not really good, but at least it’s entertaining.

23. Story of My Life (The Back Up Plan, 5x18)

On a list featuring the what works and doesn’t for Kurt’s performances, this one just... oy. First of all, technically, the boys sound fine. Their voices mesh just fine, as usual, though Blaine’s voice is better suited for these slightly melodramatic boy band numbers. It’s a fine song to listen to in the car. Watching the performance, though, is rough. It’s done that way intentionally, to fit the context of the story -- and while it’s supposed to be comedic, to me it comes off as awkward and cringeworthy. Kurt has some odd performance choices, but normally a good performer, and this makes him kind of a bumbling idiot for the sake of the story, to the point where I rarely ever watch this one. I get what they were going for, and enjoy the song as just a song, but am not really a fan of the actual performance.

22. It’s Too Late (Jagged Little Tapestry, 6x03)

This one I definitely have some mixed feelings about. The song is fine, albeit a little on the pop-y side, though that’s intentional for the theme of the episode. And it’s the first time one of these songs directly commentating on the story that’s actually going on with Kurt. On the one hand, the angst of the scene is played well, and these boys pining for each other works for this part of the story. On the other, the vocals are a tad on the generic side (though these boys always sound great each other), and I’m still not sure I understand what was going on with the fantasy element during the middle of the song. Still, it accomplish the feel the story needed, which is why it gets bumped up here.

21. I Am Changing (New Directions, 5x13)

We only get two Kurtcedes duets on this show, which is a damn travesty. But what makes it harder is this one is, well, a little one sided. Mercedes freakin’ brings the house down with her half of the song -- clearly Amber Riley deserves all the credit she got for doing Dream Girls. Kurt, on the other hand, sounds a little rough here. I’m not sure if it’s because Chris’s voice changed during the show, and it actually got deeper, or if it’s due to the weird production values of season 5, but Kurt’s solo verse is a bit harsh and unrefined, and not in a good way. Mercedes saves it and steals the show, and when the two come together they sound fantastic, but this one gets dropped a little further down because it’s just not a strong one for Kurt. Add to that the fact that they’re trying to make Rachel and Santana be friends again, and the song is unfortunately a weaker one.

20. I Believe In A Thing Called Love (Frenemies, 5x09)

Look, I love Elliott, and I love that Adam Lambert came onto the show. He and Chris had some great chemistry, which actually does show through this performance. It’s fun and crazy and a bit out of Kurt’s normal repertoire, but that’s okay, because Kurt lets loose a little, and it’s really fun to watch. No - Kurt can’t match Elliott when it comes to the heavier rock material -- this is much better suited for Lambert than it is for Colfer, and there are times when Kurt kind of gets overshadowed and out performed, but that’s fine. We get to see Kurt pole dance - I think that’s justification enough to have it where it is on the list.

19. White Christmas (Glee, Actually, 4x10)

Believe it or not, out of the three Christmas duets Kurt and Blaine have, this is my favorite to listen to. I love this song, and I love this arrangement. They sound gorgeous on it as it highlights the strengths of their voices when singing together. My biggest issue is, really, with the scene overall. Look - it’s not easy choreographing people who aren’t used to doing routines on ice skates, and I get that. But due to that fact, the performance ends up being a lot of shots of people who aren’t Kurt and Blaine, and that’s a shame. The other two Christmas duets are much more in sync than this one, and this one is really being held back by the technical difficulty. Still - I like the song, and the context that it’s in, which is why it’s as high as it is.

18. Let it Snow (Extraordinary Merry Christmas, 3x09)

While lower than it perhaps deserves, upon watching it again, I know I’m placing it higher on the list of Klaine duets. It’s an incredibly hard number to do with all the dance steps and vocal runs, and the two of them nail it while being in character as their characters and as the Christmas special characters. I’m kind of in awe at the technical ability of this one, and it’s a shame the writers didn’t always play to Kurt and Blaine’s (and Chris and Darren’s) strengths. It’s not a personal favorite of mine, nor does the song hold much weight with their story, but it’s an incredible embodiment of what makes Klaine - Klaine, and showcases how well they can work together when given really good material.

17. You Make Me Feel So Young (New, New York, 5x14)

This is one of those songs that I go back and forth on, and really could write a dissertation on it, because I think there are a lot of elements both internal and external going on, which makes the onscreen performance... weird. But I feel like that would get way too long for the likes of this already too long post. So, I’ll say this. Vocally, they sound fantastic together, which is why I think it deserves to be up there on the list. It’s also one of the few times that we get to see genuine domestic Klaine being themselves with each other, which is also very cool. My issues with the acting and directing of the scene are very nitpicky, and it all lines up with my growing consensus that one of the weaker elements of season 5 were the musical numbers, but if y’all want more, I’ll do another post on just this song specifically. For now, I’ll just say that I enjoy the good things about the song, even if some of it leaves an awkward taste in my mouth.

16. Animal (Sexy, 2x15)

Animal is one of the few truly comedic performances Kurt gets to do. Between the silly sexy faces, euphemistic foam, and overkill addition of plastic balls, it’s hard to take this one very seriously, but that is the point. Both boys sound great on it, and it’s a lot of fun to watch -- being cringy in a good way. I really don’t have any criticisms of it besides I just prefer the others on the list just a bit more. But we’re getting into that territory where I think all of these songs are solidly good, and on any given day, I could rearrange the whole list.

15. 4 Minutes (The Power of Madonna, 1x15)

The second, and original, of the Kurtcedes duets, this is the first time in the show that Kurt gets to turn his sexy on, and it’s really awesome that they give him the chance to shine in such a way. Despite the fact that Kurt is doing the occasional weird hand gesture and choreography in this one, he and Mercedes play off each other incredibly well, and it’s a shame they never let these two really get to do anything once the juggernaut of Hummelberry came along. No, the song isn’t the best for Kurt’s voice, but sometimes it’s the spectacle of what’s going on during the number rather than how it sounds.

14. Love is a Battlefield (Tested, 5x16)

Showing that not all Season 5′s numbers were, well, not up to par as everything else, we’ve got this Klaine duet, which might be one of my favorite pieces of choreography and showmanship on the show. I really don’t like the song, at all, which I know goes against the grain of a lot of you, but it’s a testament to how powerful this number is visually that I’ve ranked it so high. (It’s about anger sex guys, and more sexual than the scarcely few sexy time-ish scenes we actually got.) The boys sound great on it, and the layered acting in it is pitch perfect. I love this duet, even if I’m not a fan of the song.

13. Ding, Dong, The Witch is Dead (The Purple Piano Project, 3x01)

Well, there is a reason Hummelberry was what it became, and this showcases that to perfection. The song isn’t worth much story wise, but it does show just how wonderfully these two play against each other, as well as sounding great together. This song is playful and light and the perfect showcase for what real talents they both are. I have my issues with Hummelberry (really, I do) but I can’t deny that they’re standout performers together, and everything about this number comes together to show that off.

12. Perfect (I Kissed a Girl, 3x07)

Look, this list is subjective. Yes, there are a few that stand over the rest and a few that are really not that great, but most of Kurt’s duets, like his solos, are really all solid performances. And I just happen to really love this song. I’m not going to defend Blaine’s questionable rapping or the context this song is performed in the episode. But what I will say is that I love what the lyrics have to say about Klaine’s relationship at the time, and the fact that they both (but especially Kurt) sound so great here. Plus, I enjoy jamming out to this one in my car.

11. Daydream Believer (Dreams Come True, 6x13)

This just happens to be one of my favorite songs ever, and I’m so glad this got to be the last Klaine duet. I have no issues about how well they sound together. As cute as they are dancing with the kids, I do wish the context would have been totally different -- I wish that they were singing this to each other -- or their own child. But I still think it’s a pretty meaningful song, and I love it, so here we are.

10. Just Can’t Get Enough (I Do, 4x14)

I unabashedly love this song. Sure the song is rather repetitive and is going on during other people’s plot lines, but every time I hear this one, I just want to get up and dance along with it. The boys sound great on it, and they get to be rather flirty in the moments that the camera is actually on them. If only the had more screen time, I probably put this one higher near the top.

9. Somebody Loves You (Transitioning, 6x07)

A lot like Just Can’t Get Enough, this duet is flirty and adorable and I love everything about it. They sound great together and, as usual, play off each other well. On top of that, the song itself plays nicely into the Klaine story of the moment, which I appreciate. It’s not a perfect performance, but an incredibly enjoyable one, and that’s what matters.

8. American Boy (The Untitled Rachel Berry Project, 5x20)

Are either Kurt or Blaine suite for Rap and R&B? No, not really, but do I care? No. As you’ve probably noticed, I love these flirty duets, this is one of the best ones. Sure, they don’t really capture the style or tone of the original very well. But they’re having a lot of fun out there and being adorable while doing it. And Kurt simulates having sex. I mean, do I really need to say more? But really - I actually enjoy this song a lot, so there we go.

7. Popular (2009, 6x12)

This is easily the best performance of Kurt’s limited performances in season 6. Kurt and Rachel haven’t head a duet together since Season Five’s Get Back (interesting right?) but they’re able to turn right back on the magic that was going on in the earlier seasons. This song is near perfection -- the acting is solid, the performance is layered -- being both comedic and a commentary about the both of them, and they sound wonderful together. This is truly a treat for the end of the series, and I’m a little sad the rest of the season didn’t put as much effort into its musical numbers.

6. Come What May (Girls and Boys on Film, 4x15)

The thing about Come What May, for me, is that it’s deeply a romantic song - and shot (intentionally) in a very movie-like way. I love so much about this, from the staging, to the bit of flashbacks setting the tone at the beginning, to the misdirect and reveal that it’s really Kurt’s fantasy and not Blaine’s. Vocally, there are a few weaker spots towards the beginning, but that can be overlooked when visually and lyrically there is so much wonderful things going on here. I love when a performance can have layers to it -- and this one say so much about Kurt as a character and the head space that he’s in, while being deeply romantic without being vulgar, that it firmly takes a spot near the top of the list.

5. Got to Get You Into My Life (Love, Love, Love, 5x01)

The thing that’s so great about good Klaine duets is their push and pull of each other. This duet has a ton of that -- each of them playing against each other in such a flirty way. They sound great, they look great, the number has a ton of energy, and the bright tone is a nice change from all the somberness that came along with season 4. It’s a visual treat as well as a aural one, and nearly flawless in execution, which is why it’s ranked so high on the list.

4. Rockstar (New, New York, 5x14)

Is this really one of Kurt’s best duets? Technically, probably not. I don’t really care - I. Love. This. Song. Really, I listen to it all the time, and it’s just a song I never tire of. It’s really Adam Lambert’s show, and Kurt is kind of dancing around like the littler brother of the rockstar that is Elliot ‘Starchild’ Gilbert. And I do think Kurt and Elliot’s voices mesh rather well -- even if Kurt’s overshadowed a bit here. But that’s all fine - because this song makes me happy for no other reason that it does, and that’s a fine reason to be near the top of the list.

3. Baby, It’s Cold Outside (A Very Glee Christmas, 2x10)

I keep trying to think of reasons not to put this as the number one Klaine duets. I keep looking at the list thinking that something else about one of the other duets will stand out more, and I just can’t. This scene and this performance is damn near flawless. I’ve already talked about this scene at length, and I really don’t have anything new to add, but here’s the thing -- this song sounds wonderful, the game of cat and mouse they play with each other is one of the best scenes on the entire show, and I can’t say enough at how brilliant and layered and amazing this scene is. Hands down, best Klaine duet, and one of the best overall duets on the show.

2. Happy Days Are Here Again/Get Happy (Duets, 2x04)

The thing is, about this duet, is that it’s iconic. Just hands down iconic. Not only were they able to take an old school mash-up done by Babs and Judy and make it their own, but they gave it the same amount of power and emotion the original had as well. I don’t think it’s easy to sit on a stool and make any kind of song engaging but these two are able to do it. They sound flawless on a technically difficult song. There’s subtly and nuance in the performance. There’s balance and give and take. And contextually, it fits in nicely with where each of the characters are at. On top of that, it’s a really great arrangement of these two songs in the first place. I have nothing but good things to say about one of my favorite songs and favorite performances on the show. And while Hummelberry has so, so many issues as a friendship -- their ability to make amazing performances together was not one of them.

1. For Good (New York, 2x22)

I went back and forth on what the order of the top three would be -- they could easily be interchangeable they’re all so good. But here’s the thing about this one. I feel like this one just takes an extra step up in, well, everything -- the performance level, the context, the layers of emotion woven through this song, it just hangs itself up a little higher than the rest of them. Yes, Kurt and Rachel sound as good as they ever do -- playing off each other and meshing with each other brilliantly. But this song is a grand musical theater piece that they pull off masterfully.

But on top of that... The weight this song has is given is higher than pretty much any other song on this list. it’s a perfect fitting song that punctuates their paralleling journey throughout the season. This song is a final statement and thesis of everything that became before it, and because of that, I’m ranking it as the best of Kurt’s duets.

#finding kh #kurt hummel #non link no photos version #because tumblr is the worst and has a million restrictions

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jay-and-dean · 5 years ago

Text

Rescue You Chapter 4 : November 4 and 5.

Dean x reader

Summary : My name is Y/n. I’m the outcast of my witch community. This is the story of how I rescued Dean Winchester, the story of how he saved me.

Serie Warnings : Swearing. Injuries. Smut. Fluff. Angst.

Chapter warning : Injuries, swearing, a hint of Angst, fluff.

Words : 3k

***Rescue You Masterlist***

***Want to read more ? => MASTERLIST***

___________________________

November 4, 6:14 am

“Y/n ?” Dean’s voice calls me softly.

In my dream, I’m not afraid to cling to this voice with all I am. Somehow not afraid of what he could do or be… I’m floating in this world where music can be seen and where Dean’s smell can hold and carry me…

“Y/n ?” This voice is not in my dream…

I open my eyes and my breath gets stuck in my throat. His smell is not really holding me, but his arms are, and the only music is his breathing.

“I’m sorry to wake you… You’re crushing me” he says low.

My arm is wrapped around him, nails dug in his opposite side, like I harpoon him. My eyes widen, I let go of his chest in a gasp.

“I’m… I’m sorry” I say sitting up.

“No I am” he sighs. “I just… each time I pushed your hand you grabbed me tighter and… I’m sorry, it…”

“Hurts” I cut him. “Of course.”

Getting out of the cover I feel the violent bite of the cold and rub my face. It’s snowing, already. I sight and look at the table, my breath short, my burned skin still hurting, anxiety getting high… I just hope they won’t make my day too busy.

“I have to… find food” I say, trying to hide the trembling in my voice. “And another blanket. Okay…”

“Hey…” Dean’s voice pierces the fog of panic suddenly suffocating me. “It’s okay Y/n. I can wait, you need to take care of you.”

A sarcastic laugh escapes me. Take care of me…

November 5, 9 pm.

I run. I can’t really run because the snow slows me, but I go as fast as possible. My lungs are burning with the frosty air I’m breathing fast, my ears hurts and my fingers too, the tears on my face are the only warm thing I feel.

They trapped me. My mother trapped me at home, I couldn’t get food and I couldn’t get a blanket for Dean. I had to work like a dog and to beg, I had to lie. She never let me go out, even when I yelled, even when I cried ; until now.

I reach the door and open it with shaking hands, if he’s dead…

The room is cold, but not as much as the outside. I fall on my knees. Dean is on the floor, pale, cold, he tried to get up and failed.

“Dean ? Dean !” I reach him, checking his pulse and touching his face. “Dean… Please” I sob.

And he opens his eyes, frowning when he sees me. I take his face and squeeze it against my chest, silently thanking whoever listens.

“I was worried…” he mumbles.

“I’m so sorry… I’m so, so sorry” I sob and I feel his hand rest on my hip.

We stay just like that for a little while. Me on my knees, and him against me, holding me back the best he can, my tears falling on his head, his hand gently stroking my side, like he was trying to comfort me.

Then I laboriously help him back on the bed and open the large bag I brought. I wrap him in covers, and put water to boil. I give him something to drink and he finishes it really fast. Then I take my hot water bottle and fill it with the boiling water, with the rest, I make the magical infusion I stole.

Dean just looks at me, busy like an ant ; he’s clinging to the covers and sometimes trying to speak, but I don’t give him time because I know what he will ask : Where do the bruises come from. And I have no answers, just that Diana came again. At least my mother feels guilty now that this ugly witch beat the shit out of me, and she will leave me be a little.

“Here” I blow on the bowl a little, making the steam moisten his forehead. “Sorry” I smile, wiping his face. “This is a potion I stole, it makes you heal faster.”

He looks at me, suspicious, and smells the mixture with a disgusted face.

“Where did you found that Y/n ?” he asks and I lower my head.

“I stole it” I sigh, not saying I stole it from the old lady Stinson, who broke her neck of the femur. They will give her more anyway.

“I don’t trust witches” he says and my heart sank.

“You don’t…” I can’t speak more, the intense fear and pain I felt sine yesterday, exploding at contact of his words.

I put the precious bowl cautiously on the table and turn my back on him.

“Y/n… I trust you” he sighs. “But this is witchcraft and…”

“Shut up” I say coldly. “J-just shut up.”

I take a deep breath and try not to cry.

“I won’t be able to protect you for long” I start with a sinister tone. “I… You have no idea of the s-sacrifices…”

“Yes I do” he cuts me.

“SHUT UP ! I-I DON’T WANT YOU TO HEAL ! I DON’T WANT YOU TO LEAVE BUT IF YOU DON’T…” I turned to face him and tears are running down my face now. “They will kill you… I don’t know how to heal you without what I know…”

“I’m sorry” he grunts.

“I can’t let them find you… B-but what if next time they lock me up for a week ?”

“Come here” he simply says and I hesitate, looking away. “Please.”

As I come closer, he sits up more in a groan of pain. I sit on the chair and he puts a hand on my thigh. He closes his eyes for a second, trying to breathe despite the intense pain and the weakness.

“I’ll drink it” he states. “I trust you. But you have to promise me you won’t ever put your life in danger for me.”

I turn my head and catch his eyes with eyebrows frowned and my lower lip between my lips from trying not to cry. His handsome eyes searching mine. And here it is, the moment I can talk for the first time in my life. The person I can trust enough to refuse a promise.

“What life ?” I state low.

November 5, almost midnight.

Dean ate and drank. It took an hour but I helped him to the bathroom, using the chair as a support, and for pauses. He wanted to, and while he was sweating bullets because of pain, I clenched my teeth and gave him that because he asked for help. As usual, I talked a lot, at first about nothing important, but now, an hour later, as I help him back on the bed, I’m talking about Diana.

“Every witch has one, a godmother… I was so jealous when I was a child… Now not so much” I grunt when he hisses, sitting down. “Here, the pillow is good, you can lean on it…”

“B-before I met you” he pants, trying to hide his pain. “I hated witches… Now it’s worse.”

“I know…” I sigh, leaving a short silence. “Are hunters as cruel as they say ?” I finally ask shyly.

“I guess some of them are… But the ones I know, they’re good people.”

I stare at him for a while, and can’t decide if I can smile right now, I want to, I always want to when he looks at me, but this talk is treason.

I’m checking on his wounds, and am satisfied to find them healing. His hoodie is open, and he doesn’t wear a t-shirt underneath it, it makes it easier for the bandages. I’m sitting on the bed, against his thigh, cleaning the massive cut on his stomach, when I feel his warm hand on my cheek.

I look up and find his gaze. His hand flattens on the side of my face and I close my eyes for a second. What is this rattle inside of me ? Like a swarm in my stomach. When I’m deprived of sight, my other senses cling to him, and the skin of his chest under my hand becomes the softer thing I ever touched, the smell irradiating of him…

“You’re cold” he whispers.

When I open my eyes again, everything has changed, my eyes can’t look away, I sit up straighter and stare at his beautiful face.

“I don’t want you to go and come back with bruises again” he admits, his thumb brushing my jaw.

“Tonight I’ll stay” I shrug, not knowing what else to say. “Hey, you will get sick if you stay like that” I finally manage to tear myself off of his charm.

I close his sweater and give him his toothbrush.

“You have to eat something too” he says with his mouth fool of toothpaste before he spits on what I gave him, his arms unable to brush longer.

“I bought like ten chocolate bars, just in case, I’ll eat one” I smile, searching my bag. “Hey look, razor !”

He smiles, his bright white teeth lighting the room. Everything changed since he touched my face, but I can’t explain it, he’s just… I want him close.

I sit on the bed and put a towel on his chest. While I take foam in my hand, I try to ignore him staring, try to focus. When I put it on his cheek, his eyes are a little too close to mine, almost drowning my will to be careful.

“Where am I supposed to put it ?” I chuckle.

“Everywhere you see beard, and try to avoid my mouth and nose” he smiles.

I start spreading the foam on his face with excessive caution, brushing his jaw, his upper lip, gently grazing his throat.

If my gestures are very slow, my thoughts, them, are going thousand miles. And yes, this is a freckles on his lip. I just wish I would have met him differently, I wish I wasn’t born a witch, the most useless witch of all times. I wish I could have seen him with all his strength one day ; but I won’t, because the minute he can walk, he will leave me forever. At least I would have known whatever is happening now, and I will have a memory to cherish.

“Against the grain, neck last” he says low.

“I’ll try not to cut you” I state and put the razor on his cheek, making his skin appear behind the foam and hair. “I love the smell of shaving foam” I say absent-mindedly.

“Why ?” his Adam’s apple dances before my eyes.

“I don’t know, it’s manly but soft…” I smile. “Kinda comforting.”

Like you.

I get closer and now I can smell the mint of his breath too, I rinse the razor in the bowl of water on the chair and come back to his face slowly. When I come close to his mouth, he forms a thin line with it, hiding both his lips to make it easier for me.

“Oops” I chuckle when a bit of foam falls on his lips after he made them appear again.

I wipe it with my thumb, immediately freezing when I realize I’m touching those lips. My shy finger just lingers on the plumb pink flesh, and even the awareness of him staring, probably wondering what is wrong with me, doesn’t make me look away…

His face comes a little closer, slowly, he doesn’t need to move much to make his face touch mine.

His lips capture mine in a shy kiss.

My heart stops, my world crashes on itself, but not in a bomb-destructive way, more in a revelation. I put a hand on his good shoulder and come closer, desperate to feel him more, to taste him more. His mouth against mine opens just a little to grab my lower lip, his hand comes back to my cheek.

I never felt anything like this before. This dream is the most powerful and beautiful I have ever had, and it’s not even a dream. I wish I could stay like that forever, just feeling those lips on mine.

When the tip of his tongue wets my mouth, I open it, allowing him to caress me the way he wants. His hot tongue meets mine in a sensual skim at first, then in an eager dance. I grab his face and keep him against me while he devours me, breathing only the air he gives me until it’s not enough for both of us and he breaks the kiss to inhale.

He stares at me and, for the first time in my life I don’t have any doubt. If he regrets, I will just keep taking care of him until he can be safe, thankful for that day I felt alive in my life ; if he wants to kiss me again…

He does. Slow and tender, smiling in the kiss, cutting all my thoughts.

“That’s disgusting” he chuckles with a grin and, once again, I have no doubt, because he can’t mean anything unkind, he’s just Dean. “We have shaving foam everywhere. I think I have some in my mouth…”

I laugh through my nose and put another shy and chaste kiss on his lips. Taking the towel, I wipe my face and the rebellious strand of my hair that fell from my bun, now sticking to my cheek. Then I take the razor in my hand and smile in awe.

“Only half your face is shaved.”

He turns his head slowly to grant me access to the hairy side of his face.

In concentration, I stick my tongue out a little but don’t realize it before he kisses the tiny tip of it. My eyes widen and I blush, pecking his plumb lips once again like we were a thing, like we were usual and natural.

Several times during the minutes it takes me to shave him with caution, he steals a kiss or two. Until it becomes a little game : me giving him a smile when he catches my lips, or escaping to give him my cheek or nose, just to tenderly kiss him when he grunts… He gives me his throat like he gave me his cheeks, with a trust so pure ; and the razor blade caresses his skin while I put an audacious kiss on the naked side of his Adam’s apple.

When comes the moment I wipe his face with wet towel, our lips have met a thousand times. And I know now that it never will be enough.

I lay close, this time slipping between the wall and him, my daring hand coming under the hem of his hoodie to touch the skin of his stomach, he kisses the top of my head and silence slowly wraps us, a peaceful calm, swathed in a snowy night.

“This witch thing…” he says low. “Do you know how fast it works ?”

I shrug and look up to meet the subdued light of the oil lamp reflecting in his bright eyes.

“My ribs already hurt less” he states.

I sit up and smile wide.

“Really ? Oh great !” rubbing his jaw, I realize the cut on his eyebrow is almost healed. “I should steal more…”

“You’re not going back there for now, Y/n” he frowns.

I bend to kiss him, unable to stop tasting him, unable to stay away. His hand grabs my thigh when I kiss the corner of his lips, his cheek and jaw. He turns his head to make me focus back on his mouth.

I have no idea how long we have been kissing, but I feel like a teen, lips swollen from making out too long. His hand is under my own sweater now, just calmly motionless on my lower back.

“Mh that mouth…” he murmurs. “We will make it, Y/n… They won’t hurt you more.”

We. They.

We means we’re in the same side, and I agree. From now on, I’ll be in our side. I snuggle against him and put my hand on his heart, hiding the anxiety on my face : If I manage to save him, I will have won this battle, and I will be happy just knowing he is okay ; but sooner or later, they will learn of Dean being alive… And I will burn.

He’s not stupid, I know he realizes that, we both know.

“I heard them talking about you” I say, trying to sound lazy when I’m suddenly a little sad. “They were saying you had an angel…”

“Have an angel ?” he chuckles. “I don’t own an angel, like I would have a cat… He’s my friend. Cas, Castiel. He saved me from Hell, and we went to Purgatory together…”

I stay there, listening. He tells me about his brother, and how he became a hunter, how he was raised like a soldier, he tells me about crappy motels rooms and that archangel that made them believe he was the Trickster. I met the actual trickster, he’s not as powerful. He tells me about this witch Rowena, I heard of her once, but the Coven don’t like her because she doesn’t respect the rules…

I tell him about these rules. About what they did to my father, how this messes with people’s brain, how broken he is now. I tell him about my only friend, Aiden, and our past together, the way they treated me, and convinced him his marriage was for the best. And I start to betray my blood even more : The delicious safety of his hand stroking my back, I start telling him about the Coven operation, about Mam Griffin impressive powers…

A gust of freezing air carrying snow suddenly enters the room when the door opens. Dean protectively wrap his arm around me even more when I sit up in terror, trying to see clearly if someone just found us.

The world is about the crash.

I frown to discern who is that shape, staying outside, staring at us.

And when it moves, I finally can see.

“Aiden ?”

______________________________

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ask-the-crimson-king · 4 years ago

Text

Tales from D&D: Skin to Bone

[Hello. Have not done a Tales from D&D in a hot minute. Thought I’d do one now.

This one is from the Icewind Dale campaign that I am playing, and because of it, there may be SPOILERS FOR ICEWIND DALE below the cut.

I am also going to be tagging @luwupercal because I think they may enjoy hearing about the fate of Barnaby and the fucking feels train this campaign has become.

Before I get into it, this is the cast:

LYDIA - Vampire spawn warlock. Chill as fuck. Just wants to be able to either cure herself or stop having to run from her new self.

RHOZAL - Hobgoblin Artificer with a lot of emotional baggage. Blacksmith and feelsy baby. Protect him. Has a crush on Lydia. [The feelings are mutual on both ends, however the characters are being COWARDS-]

BARNABY BUSSELTON - Anarcho-capitalist gnome wizard. No longer a PC. Relevant to the beginning of this tale. Will explain.

CHARLES NOLAND - Halfling druid. Was vibing in the snow for 2 months. New to the gang.

AND FINALLY, MY DUMB ASS AS-

Hakkerskaldyr Strigr, but known as FREYR - Goliath Paladin who worships the Allfather. Lost an eye. And a character that I’ve lost interest in playing. We’ll get into that.

We begin our tale with a TPK in some caverns. Note: The party is Level 3.

The enemies were a frost giant skeleton, a hag, and a wil-o-wisp.

Lydia makes it to the hag first. Rhozal and I, Freyr, try to follow her to provide assistance while Barnaby tries to kite the skeleton away from us.

We get to the room with the hag. Lydia isn’t doing too good.

The giant stops following Barnaby and comes for us.

Rhozal is put down in one blow from the giant’s axe. Freyr is able to use the final spell slot and put down a smite on the hag, killing it. Lydia, who had been grappled by it, is now free.

Freyr was at 5 hp. The giant needed to do 35 damage for Freyr to be killed instantaneously.

The DM rolled a 7, an 8, and an 11. The giant had a +6 to the attack.

The giant had done 34 damage. One more and I would have been out. BUT THAT WASN’T THE END! Because on the next turn, the wisp used its ability where a creature put down to 0 needs to make a DC 10 con save or die instantly.

Made the save.

Lydia flees, and now the giant skeleton is fighting this wisp. Barnaby is hanging back, letting them fight it out. Lydia does her Form of Dread and finds Barnaby, takes out a shadowblade, and kills him. Freyr’s axebeak, Ishe, is on her way to try and retrieve Freyr. Lydia tries to mount her, but is bucked off.

Barnaby’s turn is next and he gets a NAT 20 TO THE SAVE, POPS UP, SAYS “SURPRISE MOTHERFUCKER” AND DOWNS LYDIA WITH A LEVEL 2 MAGIC MISSILE.

Ishe then pecks his ass and puts him back on death saves. Which he got another nat 20 to in two turns.

SO, TPK. Wonderful. Rhozal then releases a snake called Xipecoatl unto the world in exchange for his life. The snake kills the skeleton, and Ishe comes in to grab Freyr and run. Barnaby gets up and makes a deal with the snake.

Freyr goes to the nearest city with Ishe, once he comes to, for help from the guard. With a nat 20 to persuasion, he gets it.

Barnaby starts making traps around the caves, including alchemist’s fire and rockfall traps. I am sent into secrets corner, alone, FOR 45 FUCKING MINUTES while Barnaby talks.

Finally, I’m able to get back into the main call, and Freyr takes up his weapons, and the guards, and he makes his way into the caverns. Man checked for traps all the while, but they were disarmed. Barnaby left a note. Rhozal is fucking worried and wants to pursue him now. Barnaby has captured Lydia.

We resolve to fucking kill him.

Thanks to Lydia being a fucking madlad, we’re able to locate him hiding out in the snow. He hears the sled dogs that are with us. Rhozal is given a scroll of fireball (reward for the quest we were on), and he uses it to cast fireball on Barnaby. Takes 11 fire damage.

I go, and I try to Vow of Emnity his ass. Can’t. Fucking illusion. GREAT.

Turns progress and the guards can’t hit him because of this illusion. Lydia is not doing well on death saves. She needs to be saved now.

On Barnaby’s turn, he takes out a fang, and teleports away.

“Let this be known as the day you almost caught Barnaby Busselton!”

He also ignites the oil he had planted around Lydia. Due to a Secret, Freyr has fire resistance, so he was literally thrown into the fires to help her. After cutting himself so Lydia could be stable/healed, he hauls her up and out of the flames.

Barnaby is now a DMPC, and will eventually be hunted.

We all leave and get a room in the nearby city of Easthaven. We spent the night there, we had some very nice heart to heart moments. Rhozal now feels empty. But we all cement our bonds with each other, and Rhozal and Lydia become very cute and adorable. I don’t want this post to be a million miles long, so I’ll leave it at that.

I will try to summarize the next few sessions. Essentially, we found a magic cauldron in those caves (its a Cauldron of Plenty) and the Speaker (mayor) of Easthaven was willing to pay 3500gp for it. So we planned to give it to him, but it was stolen in the time period the speaker had told us it would take for us to be paid. We find Charles in the Speaker’s town hall, and we ask him if he knew anything. The answer was ‘no’. So we head downstairs and we find the Speaker beat to shit, along with his guards.

It is at this point we find out who stole the cauldron, a dwarf woman named Torgga, and we head out as soon as possible. The Speaker offers 1000 more gp for its retrieval.

So we head off to Targos, the last town that we knew Torgga frequented. We go to Luskan Arms, a Tavern, and we find her sleds. But the cauldron is gone. We head inside and we see her heading up to speak with someone. Lydia turns invisible and leaves her familiar, a pseudodragon named Signum (who is also constantly pointing in the direction Lydia is in), with us. When Signum squeaks, it means she’s in danger.

Lydia is able to eavesdrop on a situation. The Speaker of Targos plans to starve out Easthaven. GREAT. POLITICS. Makes Torgga fear him. He is a corrupted cunt, essentially.

Torgga is let out, and Lydia remains in the room with the Speaker.

She then decides to attack. Signum starts squeaking. Me and Rhozal’s player are aggressively signing (because we had been muted for this entire altercation) that we are FUCKIN GONE, we are DASHING AWAY-

But Lydia CRITS ON THE BITE. C R I T. NATURAL. T W E N T Y.

Combat ensues. It takes Freyr and Rhozal forever to try and get to her. Rhozal is able to just yeet his ass upstairs, but then there’s a locked door in the way. Freyr is being pulled back by a tiefling (one of the Speaker’s lot), and even with a FUCKING 21 TO ATHLETICS, I couldn’t break free. FOR LIKE FIVE FUCKING ROUNDS. NO, I did not hit this person, BECAUSE MY PALLY BOY WAS JUST THINKING “don’t hurt more people than you have to, that’s just going to cause more trouble”.

But anyway he gets upstairs but Lydia is unconscious. Rhozal cannot pick the door. So we start breaking it down.

We break it down.

The Speaker ties up Lydia with manacles. We break into his room (after Rhozal gets poisoned by a Cone Snail doorknob), see Lydia is awake (nat 20 to death saves baBY), and that the Speaker is missing.

He escaped through a hidden door. Freyr watched him do it. So he tries to find the exit, but fails.

His next turn, this motherfucker opens the door and says “Hello!”. Makes 3 attacks.

Misses 2.

CRITS. ON THE THIRD. FOR FUCK SAKE-

Freyr is down. AND. AND. HE HAS THREE SPELL SLOTS THAT HE CAN USE. AND ALL OF HIS LAY ON HANDS POINTS. BUT HE IS DOWN. FUCK.

Rhozal is also downed, but Signum arrives to save the day! Signum stings him. Speaker rolls a nat 1 to his con save, so he is now unconscious for an hour. Freyr gets healing potion’d, then he res’s Rhozal, and then Rhozal starts tying up the Speaker. Charles had been kinda holding back the tide downstairs (Dire Wolf wild shaping is fucking insane at level 3), so he hauls ass to come help us.

However, about 5 other people are following. FUCK.

We try to find a way to escape. We also need proof the Speaker is a corrupt fuckhead. Which we THOUGHT we had, because the Speaker wrote a letter that essentially said “Ah yes, I am Evil and Corrupt, muah ha ha.” However. The DM then proceeded to reveal that he didn’t have the letter on him, when he told Lydia that she saw him take it.

Fucking. Damn. It.

We headed into his secret hallway and we try to find a way out.

The hallway is trapped, however, and nearly takes us out because of those traps. How fucking LOVELY.

We hear the guards calling for someone, who finds the oTHER END OF THIS HALLWAY AND THEN SNIPES FREYR. Down. AGAIN.

Then Rhozal is put down.

Charles and Lydia are able to flee.

Rhozal and Freyr are taken captive.

We awake to find ourselves imprisoned. Manacled, in nothing but ragged clothing. The Speaker wants to make a deal. He literally says “Ah yes, I am corrupt and power hungry. Work for me.”

Look. Freyr is not about that life. It’s complicated but it has ties to his backstory.

Rhozal wants to say yes. Freyr is a vehement no. This guy thinks of him, Rhozal, and Lydia as precious pieces on his board. Weapons he can turn against the people of Targos and Ten Towns. Things for his own gain. Freyr would rather choose death before dishonor.

The Speaker then says that Freyr would be imprisoned, and let out once he became more useful.

Rhozal fears he will be killed.

It is at this point that I and Rhozal’s player go into the Secrets chat so Rhozal and Freyr can argue their points.

Meanwhile, Charles and Lydia go to find some acquaintances the party made in Targos. Marianne, a Changeling healer, and Mimosa Halfglass, the chief healer in Targos. They start planning a prison break.

In our bickering and imprisonment, Marianne comes to us. We tell her to sneak out our things. She’s disguising herself as a guard. She then leaves.

Rhozal’s player and I are then brought into the general vc and muted.

Lydia ends up speaking with the Speaker alone, offers a counter-offer, and also offers to try and convince Rhozal and Freyr to take his deal. He allows her to try and do so. Lydia is shackled and put into the same cell we are.

The session ends here. However, in the background, Lydia, Rhozal, and Freyr all end up talking.

I will say this now. I am feeling... stuck with my boy. I love Freyr. I really do. However, I don’t feel... inspired to play him anymore. So the DM has told us we need to make a decision -- take the Speaker’s offer, or don’t. And in this decision, I have a second one, that being; do I continue playing Freyr, or do I introduce a new character.

I feel like, while the others have ideas and plans, Freyr doesn’t have many. Not many plot things that he feels relevant to or connected by, outside of this prophecy he was given to by Odin in the session he lost his eye. However, that feels like a very late game thing, and I feel like I’m kinda... twiddling my thumbs while the others have things to do.

My next character I have basically planned out. I know how he talks, how he thinks, his mannerisms, everything. And I really like him. Haven’t quite decided on a name yet, but I incorporated that aspect itself into his character.

I already know that Freyr is a vehement ‘no’. Lydia and Rhozal tried to convince him otherwise, but my boy is stubborn. But the DM told me that things do not have to end there.

So my decision by Wednesday is now -- who’s story do I play? Freyr’s, or this new character?

I’m still torn. But I am leaning more and more towards this new character. He feels dynamic, and the character is a class I’ve never played before. Plus I think he’ll get along well with Lydia, Rhozal, and Charles.

It’ll be a heartfelt goodbye if he leaves. But I feel like his chapter has come to a close. Besides, I feel like he’s a bit too... third wheel-y for what Rhozal and Lydia have going on. He feels too awkward. I don��t like his dynamic too much anymore.

But who knows, maybe I’ll regret the decision either way. However, I do believe it’s time for my paladin to say goodbye. At least at the time of writing. I’ll provide updates when the fateful day comes.]

#title for this inspired by a linkin park song of the same name #one that i feel is very fitting to the situation #that and roads untraveled #will add more in another post #maybe #cause theres some shit about rhozal and lydia man #moonclaws sagas #tales from D&D

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radianhazbin · 5 years ago

Text

For the sins, she lived without

Beforehand a small authors note: This fic is kinda gore-heavy at some points. You have been warned.

Where am I?

Charlie looked around herself. She was sitting on the ground on a street, she didn't know. In a city, she didn't know, in clothes she didn't own. The young girl quickly jumped up, and walked around, just to see, that nobody was there. The streets were empty, the buildings were empty, there were no cars on the street. Her breathing got heavier, when suddenly, she heard a giggle from one of the many alleyways. She carefully peeked inside, and spotted a young girl. Maybe twelve or thirteen years old running towards her. Under her arm was a black leather purse.

The young girl swiftly jumped past Charlie, and continued to run down the street. An elderly women followed shortly after.

"Stop the thief!"

She screamed.

"Stop her!"

Her voice quickly lost strength and volume, as she was running towards Charlie. Soon after, she broke down. The young girl stepped towards the old women, who was laying on the ground, unconscious.

"What the fuck?", she whispered to herself, before being thrown back by an unknown, incredibly strong force.

"Get those fuckers out here! Burn this mother fucking village to the ground!"

Charlie heard a deep, rough voice screaming. She wasn't on a street anymore. Now, she was somehow transported into a small, wooden Hut.

Charlie quickly stood up again, and looked out of a small hole in the planks, that made up the walls. Outside, she saw fire and a thick jungle that surrounded a few more huts like this one. In the middle of these small houses, she saw men in camouflage with weapons, and many people dressed in everyday clothes. Those people, who were almost entirely asian, were grouped up in the middle of the village.

"Burn those fucking rats out!"

One of the, what charlie thought were soldiers, screamed out, and pointed at her hiding spot.

A small man with a weapon, she had never seen before walked forth, and pointed the end of the gun in her direction. Moments later, an ocean of flames hit the wooden structure, which began to burn in an instant. Charlie jumped away from the window, and sprinted outside in panic and fear.

She punched open the light door, and fell down a few steps, before coming to a stop in the mud. One of the soldiers stepped forward, and grabbed her by her long, blond hair. He dragged her through the mud into the group of other people, and threw Charlie into the middle of them.

"Onto your fucking knees you dogs!"

The soldier, who screamed before, ordered them to do. Charlie heard women screaming, children crying and men trying to step forward and punch the soldiers in the face. Some men were trying their best to keep their woman behind them. And the women kept their children behind them.

Then, the soldier from before, moved his hand to his hip, and pulled a pistol from it. He aimed into the air, and pulled the trigger.

BAAM!!!

A deafening sound echoed through the village, and immediately after, there was just silence.

"Alright, listen up you fucking, disgusting pigs!"

The soldier with the gun shouted out, while putting the weapon down again.

"Your fellow men, these disgusting fuckers, killed my friends, killed my family!"

He lifted the pistol up again, and aimed at the head of one of the civilian man, at point blank range.

"Now I want to see, how you fuckers react, if I kill your family!"

He pulled the trigger, and the head from the man, he was aiming at, shot backwards. A cascade of blood shoot out of its back, and painted the women and children behind him red. The dead body then fell to the ground. Expressionless.

One of the other soldiers ran to the shooter.

"Major Husk, what the fuck are you doing?"

Husk?!

Charlie realized.

"I do my fucking job! Now back in the line soldier!" , Husk screamed and pushed the young man back again. He then proceeded to shoot the men, the women, and he even executed the children, who were crying over their dead parents body's.

He walked in a circle around the group of people, with every rotation killing another layer of them. Within minutes, Charlie, who escaped to the middle of the group, was drenched in blood, and parts of brains, bones and other things, she didn't even wanted to know, where they came from. Slowly, Husk made his way into the middle, and in the next moment, he stood in front of her.

Charlie looked up at the man.

"Husk, it's me! Charlie!", the girl begged, crying from the atrocity she just witnessed.

Husk didn't even flinch. He lifted up his gun, pressed it against Charlie's forehead, and pulled the trigger.

The girl flew backwards, onto a bed, she didn't recognize. She opened her eyes again, and looked around.

I'm not dead?

Charlie realized, before standing up again.

"Who are you?! What do you want from me?!", a male voice interrogated from behind her.

Charlie spun around, and laid her look onto a tall, young man. He had long, white hair that was styled upwards, a gun in his one hand, and a bag filled with white dust in the other.

He lifted his arm up, and pointed his weapon at her with a shaking arm. Charlie lifted up her hands.

"Don't", she begged.

"Get away from me! These are mine!", he screamed, and pulled the trigger.

A punch in the chest, threw Charlie to the ground, and knocked her out again.

After a while, she, again, opened her eyes. This time, she was in an entirely different room. She looked straight up to the ceiling. A metal fan slowly swung its turns. Charlie closed her eyes again.

What is this madness?!

She desperately thought, when she heard familiar, old time, radio sounding voice.

“The bodies of five more victims have been found. Nobody knows who the murderer is, but all I can tell you is, to lock your door, and pray that he will be caught soon."

Alastor?!

Charlie's expression turned into a smile from hearing Alastors voice. She didn't even really cared for what he said. That's when she felt something wet around her head. She turned to the side, and noticed, that she was laying in a pool of blood. Her blond hair colored red, and her snow-white hands were covered in the red liquid.

She jumped up as quickly as she could, and stepped back, to see where the blood was coming from. Charlie spotted a woman laying on the ground in front of her. Her head was split into two vertically.

"Sorry, I have to correct myself. 6 bodies."

A voice behind her stated. Charlie didn't even had time to spin around, before she felt a sharp, menacing pain in her back. It felt, like someone slammed an axe into her spine. She fell to the ground.

When will this suffering end?!

She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She just wanted it to end.

When she opened her eyes for the last time again, she could feel the fresh air in her face. The blood was gone. Her hair was golden as always, and the pain has vanished too.

The young girl slowly stood up, and looked around herself. She was standing on top of a gigantic building. She shakingly snuck to the edge, and took a glimpse down. She couldn't see the ground, just clouds.

That's, when she heard a whimpering to the left of her. She turned her head, and saw her girlfriend, Vaggie, sitting against the stone railing of the building. She covered up her eyes with her hands, and sobbed into them.

Vaggie's arms were covered in cuts and small holes. In front of her, were multiple needles.

"Vaggie?", Charlie carefully asked, while stretching out her right hand.

The crying girl lifted up her head.

"I'm sorry.", she apologized.

Afterwards she proceeded to stand up, turn around, and to climb onto the railing.

"Vaggie, don't!", Charlie desperately screamed, but it was to late.

Her girlfriend opened her arms, and fell forward. Charlie ran towards the edge, in the hope to catch her, but it was too late. The girl ran against the stone and witnessed her girlfriend fall down the building she was standing on. Tears ran down her face, and soon followed Vaggie onto her way into the abyss.

"Let this madness stop! Please!"

Charlie screamed into the air so loudly, that her throat hurt.

Then a crack.

A rubble.

The building she was standing on began to collapse, and dragged Charlie down with it.

Down into the darkness.

The girl fell for what felt like an eternity. There was no more waking up, no more screams. Just a familiar voice in the darkness. Her father.

"You can't save them all."

"You have to experience their sins, in order to help them."

"You can't do it."

"You're too weak."

"AHHHHHHH", Charlie woke up, drenched in her sweat.

"Huh? Honey, what's wrong?"

Vaggie laid next to her. She was in her bed, at the hazbin hotel. Tears ran down her eyes. Was this just a bad dream?

Vaggie started hugging the shaking girl.

Or was this a warning?

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

Hope you liked it :)

#hazbin hotel #charlie magne #hazbin charlie #husk #hazbin husk #alastor #hazbin alastor #niffty #hazbin niffty #angel dust #hazbin angel dust #fanfic #fanfiction

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thiswasinevitableid · 5 years ago

Text

The Wicked House

Prompt for the 31st was: Wicked. Thanks to @thats-amnesty-babe and Morgan E Ashton for the help brainstorming.

Duck whacks his hands together, clearing the dust from them, before raising a hand in friendly farewell to the movers. He picks his way through the boxes, up the stairs, and to his bedroom. Opening the door sends a bolt of dark, fluffed-up fur into the hallway.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry fuzzball, but I couldn’t have you bein underfoot or runnin out the door.” He scratches the cat behind her ears, and her affronted glare gives way to forgiving purrs.

He unpacks for awhile, finds a good luck note from Juno tucked in the winter coat she gave him (“I mean it, Duck, winter up there’s a hell of a lot colder than here in West Virginia”). Orders pizza, gets the kitchen table set up in time to eat it. Flips through his to-do list for the next few days as he does.

ka-BOOM

Winnie yowls and runs from the room as Duck nearly falls out of his chair.

“What the fuck?” He dashes outside, expecting to find an exploded car or downed powerline.

He finds nothing of the sort. None of his neighbors are even poking their heads out. There’s a smaller boom, from the house next to his (his is on the corner, so only has one neighbor).

“Well, Woodbridge finally managed to offload one of these places, huh?”

He turns to find a rather prim looking woman walking a furious looking Pomeranian.

“Beg pardon?”

“You’re the first person to buy any of the houses near that wicked place in years.”

Duck looks around again. Every house on the block, save for his own darkly painted victiorian and the brightly painted one next to it, has a sun-worn for sale sign in the yard.

“What the fuck?”

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

“Oh, so you’re the guy who bought the house next to Indrid Colds place?” The man at the grocery store asks as he rings him up. Duck was overjoyed to find a real mom and pop place near his house and Leo, the owner, has been chatting with him.

“So it seems.”

“Don’t let folks make you too jittery about it. Indrid’s an odd guy, but he don’t mean no harm.”

“What the hell does he do? All kinds of weird lights and noises and shit coming from that place.”

“Not a clue. Seems like you’re in a better position to find out than most of us.” He tilts his head towards the beer Duck is loading into a bag.

“Dunno, kinda like havin all my limbs. Not sure I’ll keep ‘em all if I go in there.”

Leo shrugs, “suit yourself.”

As Duck walks home with his groceries, he mulls over the suggestion; sure, the loud noises aren’t great, but they no worse and no more frequent than a loud party or a neighbor with barky dogs.

He sets the bags down on his front step, fumbling to find which pocket he put his keys in.

“Don’t move!”

He freezes, finds a tall man with silvery hair moving purposefully up his drive. He’s in a long, silk bathrobe and bunny slippers, bright red glasses perched on his nose. When he places his hands on Ducks shoulders and starts moving him back off the porch, Duck tenses, tries to pull away.

He can’t. The man is surprisingly strong for such a beanpole.

“Hey, pal, look-”

“No, you look.” He points a finger, and Duck squints for a beat before seeing it; a black widow, dangling on a thread as she lowers down from his door frame.

“Shit, almost walked right into her.”

“Yes, you did. I thought you might prefer not to.”

Duck takes another look at the stranger, including the spot where his hand is still resting on Ducks arm. The other man follows the gaze, pulls his hand back apologetically.

“Gonna go out on a limb here and say you’re Indrid Cold.”

“Oh, you’ve heard of me!” Indrid smiles brightly, only to have the expression falter, “oh, ah, you’ve heard of me. I can’t say I blame people for trying to warn you away from me, given my reputation.” The last few words come out so soft and resigned, the kind of vulnerability that’s either a trap or the truth of someone who has gone a little too long without the benefit of the doubt.

“Reputation don’t matter half as much as your actions. Far as I’m concerned, the only thing I know you done for sure is save me from a nasty spider bite.” He smiles kindly, holds out his hand, “I’m-”

“-Duck Newton.” Indrid takes it, shaking it with an oddly wide smile.

“Uh, right. Well, I’m gonna get rid of that widow, but if you wanted to come in for a beer or coffee or somethin I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“That sounds wonderful but, oh, oh dear, um, excuse me something’s just come up. Hope to see you again.” He dashes back down the path, down the sidewalk, and up the steps to his bright yellow door.

“Huh.” Duck watches the door for a moment, then goes to get a broom.

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

The diner smells like eggs, bacon, and butter when Duck steps in from the chill of the early September air.

It’s quiet, but he settles on a spot at the counter all the same, in case they need the booths for bigger groups.

“Good morning,” a cheerful, somewhat crunchy-granola looking blonde woman greets him, pad in hand “any coffee or tea this morning?”

“Coffee, please.”

“You got it.” She spins, grabs the pot, and pours him a mug. Several of the flatops are where Duck can see them, being worked expertly by a man who must be well over six feet tall. Whatever he’s moving about on them smells incredible.

“Ready to order.”

“Whatever he’s cookin right there.”

“Hash it is.” She smiles again.

The cook nods, and as he sets to work he asks, “you just passing through?”

“Naw, moved here a few weeks ago, got a job in the national forest.”

“Right on.”

“Oh yeah.” A voice behind him says, and he finds two older men sizing him up, “you’re the fella who got duped into buying next to Cold’s place.”

“He’s a man, Clarence, not fucking black mold.” The cook grumbles.

“How’s living next to the wicked witch treating you?” The second man, in a red ball-cap, asks.

“Warlock.” Says a clipped voice. It takes Duck a moment to see it belongs to the man going over receipts at the register, slick dark hair flecked with grey and face movie-star handsome, “if Indrid did have those abilities you all seem convinced he does, he’d be a warlock, not a witch.”

“How would you know?” Red cap retorts.

“Ey, shut up Jim, you know the boy was in the CIA. Better not disrespect him.”

“FBI, not CIA

“All I’m saying is that wherever Cold goes, disaster follows. Not to mention the man’s a known f-”

“One more syllable and you’ve got a lifetime ban.” Barclay points the spatula towards the men.

In the midst of the standoff, the bell dings.

And Indrid Cold walks into the diner.

He’s bundled up like it’s snowing, walks up to the counter and pauses when he sees Duck.

Duck pats the stool next to him, “Nice to see you again, neighbor.”

“Likewise.” Indrid gives that odd smile again and sits down, “Good morning Barclay, Joseph.” He nods first to the cook, then the man at the register, “Oh, and hello Dani. The usual, please.”

Dani grins, turns to one of the drink machines and comes back moments later with a cup of cocoa.

“I can’t handle how bitter coffee is, even with sugar.” Indrid says, two seconds before Duck is going to ask him why that drink.

“You’re braver than I am, that much sugar this early’d have me on the ceilin.”

Indrid smiles softly, “Lightweight.”

Duck barks out a laugh, making Indrid snicker as well.

“Any plans for this weekend, Duck?”

“Got some new model ships to work on, might go for a hike, nothin too excitin.”

“You don’t get enough hiking at work?” Indrid cocks his head.

“I mean, not really? It’s different when I’m on my own; I don’t got an agenda or shit I’m supposed to be takin care of. I can just go at my own pace.”

Indrid makes a noise of understanding right as Barclay sets two plates down. Indrids’ is piled with pancakes and strawberries.

Barclay points a can of whipped cream down at the plate, “say when.”

The tower of cream is almost a foot high before Indrid goes, “when.”

As they eat, they chat about this and that, though mostly Indrid asks Duck about his move, and how he’s liking the town. Then he muses, “I’d like to go hiking sometime. I really ought to get out a bit more.”

“You can come with me sometime, if you want.”

“Really?”

“Sure, long as you don’t mind me talkin about trees.”

“Not in the slightest.”

Duck raises his glass in cheers, “well, if you decide you want to, you know where to find me.”

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

Duck balances the plate of cornbread (his fathers no-fail recipe) in one hand as he lifts the other to knock on the door.

“Come in!” Indrid calls a half-second before his hands meets the wood.

The inside of Indrid’s house is laid out much the same as Ducks own. This is where the similarities end. There are drawings scattered everywhere, pinned to walls and strewn across tables. Art and posters and letters cover the walls, each of which is painted a different color.

As he makes his way into the kitchen he notices chalk and bottles of salt, piles of old books, and many, many, many sweaters.

Indrid is at the sink, filling a kettle with water.

“You’re right on time, I was just making myself some tea. Though I can make something stronger if you prefer.”

“Tea’s fine.” Duck sets the plate down, “figured I oughta make a proper, neighborly introduction.”

He leaves out the part where, in the two days since they spoke at the diner, he’s thought about Indrid quite a bit. And that whenever an explosion or other odd occurrence came from next door, Ducks’ first response is no longer annoyance; it’s worry. What if something bad happened and Indrid had no one checking on him?

“I’ve been thinking” Indrid sets a mug down in front of him, sits across from him at the rickety table, “there’s a little get-together at the Lodge, that hotel on the edge of town, this weekend. If you were interested, we could hike out that way and then stop by after.”

“You know the folks there?”

“I do. Barclay and Joseph live in one of the cottages, Dani lives in the lodge proper, and they were kind enough to invite me to movie night once. I suppose I found my people, so to speak, there even if I still am a bit solitary.”

“Be happy to come, like to get to know more folks in town myself.” Duck glances back from examining some nearby drawings, and immediately knows he gave the right answer. Indrid is looking at him like he hung every star in the sky.

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

Ducks’ gotten used to the occasional smoke detector cry from next door.

But this one isn’t stopping.

He grabs the fire extinguisher from under his sink and bolts out one front door and into another.

Smoke drifts down the stairs and Indrid is nowhere in sight. So up the stairs he goes, turning into the room where the smoke is the worst. Mercifully, there is no actual fire, just clear signs of one being hastily and messily put out. He opens the windows, and after a few minutes of cross-breeze the alarm shuts off.

It’s only then that he hears a tap running and someone muttering.

He crosses the hall, finds Indrid glaring into the mirror over the bathroom sink, trying to sooth a nasty looking burn on his arm.

“Shit, what happened?”

Indrid stares at the water, “just an accident. I was careless. I’ll be alright.”

“Here, lemme look at your arm-yeah, okay, I’m gonna go grab my first aid kit from my place.”

He’s out and back as fast as he can manage, returns to find Indrid sitting on the toilet lid, sulking.

Duck holds out his hand and Indrid flops his wrist into it. As gently as he can, Duck tends to the burn. It’s not bad enough to need a hospital, but it’s still a nasty looking mark.

“What were you tryin to do?” He asks softly.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me?”

“I have certain...abilities. Magic. Most of it related to seeing the future. But some of it is more general, or is in other fields of the discipline, and I was trying to use one field to influence a future and it backfired.”

Duck considers him a moment, then gently squeezes his hand, “hey, it’s okay if you don’t wanna tell me. Don’t gotta make a story up on my behalf.”

“I’m not MAKING IT UP!” Indrid shouts, yanking his hand away and standing up.

“Indrid, you don’t expect me to believe-”

“ What? That I’m stuck seeing futures I can’t stop, stuck with powers I still can’t fully control, that I’ve made myself an outcast time and again all because of these blasted things.” He rips off his glasses and chucks them down the hall. Crumples to the floor, head in his hands.

Cautiously, Duck scooches across the hardwood. He wants to reach out, to soothe the tensed lines of Indrids’ body. But he’s not sure that’s what Indrid wants. Not sure if he’s royally fucked everything up.

“Okay, I’m listenin.” His voice, gentle as it is, may as well be coming through a megaphone for how Indrid flinches. Then he looks at his newly bandaged arm.

“Ten years ago, I bought those glasses from a little curio shop. I thought they were stylish. I put them on when I got home and everything changed. Long story short, the glasses are a conduit to a demonish creature. When I put them on, he became my patron. I gained his ability to see the future, as well as some other powers. I panicked, tried to take the glasses back, but the store was simply gone. Turns out if I try to forsake his gift, it will go very badly for me, so I have to wear them all the time, save for sleep and things like that.”

“Jesus.”

“I’ve been trying to use my powers to stop the disasters I see coming but so often it doesn’t work, and then I have to watch it play out in real time after seeing it again and again in my head.” He stands, slowly, and walks to retrieve the glasses, “or when I try to do enchantments, sometimes things go haywire. Did you happen to see the little succulent garden in the living room?”

“You mean the one that’s as big as your coffee table?”

“Yes. That was originally two succulents. I bought them as a housewarming gift for you then decided maybe four was better. So I tried to magic up two more. And got a garden instead.” He’s still as he speaks, glasses held in his palm, “It isn’t all bad. I have been able to stop some things, and I’ve gotten much better at magic. But the failures so often dwarf that.”

“Indrid?” Duck stands in the bathroom doorway, waits for his friend to turn around before continuing, “thank you for tellin me all that. And I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

Indrid’s smile is weak, but genuine.

“Are there, uh, things that help when this happens? You seem real upset and if I can help you feel better, I’d like to.”

“T.V, the mindless kind.”

Duck holds out his hand, “C’mon, let’s go downstairs.”

Indrid settles on the violet couch, wrapping himself in a thick blanket as Duck flips channels.

“You’re from West Virgina, right?”

“Yep.”

“Then you may be familiar with my patron. I don’t know his true name, but everyone just calls him mothman.”

Duck drops the remote.

“Mothman? As in Silver Bridge, Point Pleasant, TNT plant, and all that shit?”

“Yes.” Indrid says mildly.

“Holy shit.” He fishes the remote from under the couch.

“That’s a remarkably succinct reaction.”

“Hush you, you know I ain’t a man of many words.”

“Duck, two days ago you talked for half an hour about Kudzu.” Indrid shoots him a teasing smile, and Duck elbows him lightly.

“Oooh, a Halloween cooking championship! Let’s watch that.”

Duck sets the remote down, joins Indrid under the blanket when the taller man opens it for him.

“You doin anythin for Halloween?”

“No” Indrid sighs, “I love it, but after the ‘living pumpkin incident,’ parents stopped letting their children trick or treat here.”

“Hmmmmm” Duck rests his hand just beside Indrids’, strokes it absentmindedly with his pinkie “y’know, Indrid, I think I got a way to fix that…..”

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

Duck waves goodbye to the group of trick or treaters as they scurry back down the walkway. He has to hand it to Indrid: the man really has an eye for decoration.

The yard is strung with glowing cobwebs and purple lights, bats made of purple shadow and glitter flitting through the air. The multitude of Jack’O Lanterns flicker in a rainbow of colors, thanks to Indrid doing an enchantment on the flames.

Ducks house is equally festive, Indrid choosing orange lights and one (magically) large pumpkin to contrast with the dark wood of the building. Currently Aubrey (Dani’s wife) and her giant rabbit (Dr Harris Bonkers, PhD) are seated on Duck’s front step on candy duty. Duck had asked for his new friends help after realizing just how nervous Indrid was that something would go haywire, and decided it was best if he was there to keep him company.

It’s been a successful Halloween so far; no explosions, no disasters, no decorations accidentally coming to life. He and Indrid chat between visitors, The Creature from the Black Lagoon plays in the background, and both of them have eaten more candy than two grown men probably should. Not a single kid who’s come to the door seems afraid of Indrid. Some are curious, and some have parents that definitely watch them closely. But most are just happy to get candy.

Best of all, whenever they’re seated on the couch, or waiting to open the door, Indrid holds Ducks hand, or sighs happily when Duck rests his arm around his shoulder.

The groups are becoming less and less frequent, and stars peek out from behind the clouds, when Indrid turns to him.

“Thank you, Duck.”

“Hey, wasn’t gonna miss an excuse to hang out with you and poach your candy.”

Indrid chuckles, “Not just for that. For everything, for being kind, for getting to know me and not writing me off as wicked. I-” He falters, turns away suddenly.

Duck may not have foresight, but he’s perceptive all the same.

“Want me to finish that sentence for you?”

Indrid looks at him wide-eyed as the ranger steps into his space, “Please.”

“I wanna get to know you better.” Duck grins, moves to pull Indrid to him.

Indrid beats him to it, grabbing his shirt and pulling him into a kiss. Ducks back hits the door, Indrids fingers digging into his hair. He holds him tight, and as demanding as his kisses are the taller man’s whole body is shaking like the last leaf on a tree.

When they pull apart, Indrid rests their foreheads together.

“Yes, Duck, I would very much like to get to know you better.”

Duck kisses him again, keeps him close as he whispers, “well, happy fuckin halloween to me.”

Indrid kisses his cheek, “Indeed.”

#Indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #promptober #au

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antagonisms · 5 years ago

Photo

BASICS

Name: Evan Czarnecki

Gender & pronouns: cis male, he/him

Species: werewolf

Age: 27. Jokes about being 63, because he was a wolf for 6 years, which is 42 dog years + those 21 normal human years. Either way, age is a really weird concept now.

PERSONALITY

Traits: Pretends to be flippant to put the world at a distance. Vulgar as a means of distancing himself from genuine vulnerability. Perceptive, but won’t let you know that. More self-aware than he lets on. Self-absorbed. Self-destructive. Loves being seen, hates being known.

Moral alignment / MBTI / enneagram: Chaotic neutral. INTP-A. 5w6.

Values: In other people, he likes independence, open-mindedness, the ability to dress well, a lack of tolerance for bullshit, genuine altruism, and resilience.

Flaws: Judgmental. Narcissistic as a defense mechanism. Occasionally rude, but mostly just cheeky. Not a team player. Reckless. Hedonistic. The brokest bitch in Blackrock.

HISTORY

( shorter version is in the app. i just like details. trigger warnings for child abuse and sex as self harm.)

1) CHILDHOOD

You had a family, once. Your mother’s a piano teacher and your father is — you don’t know, really, but he’s got enough old money to buy nice things even if he’s stingy on principle. He’s polite, and she’s funny, and your fellow patrons at Sunday Mass love all three of you because you’re down-to-earth, surface-level beautiful — a perfect American family.

But they don’t know what happens inside the too-big house at the foot of the mountain. Your mother’s a pessimist, and your father’s a sniveling piece of shit who copes with his worthlessness by making everybody feel small. He’s kinda good at it. They’re both as loud as they are erratic and it’s all a matter of bracing yourself for when the floor inevitably falls through. You make do, mostly. You hide in your room. You lock the door. You put your ears behind headphones. You drown out their screaming matches and your too-loud mind.

It all falls apart when Mommy decides she hates Daddy more than she loves you. No goodbye. No explanation. She just leaves.

Her departure plants a lesson you will later find impossible to uproot: love is earned, Evan, you’re not working hard enough. At least your father stayed. At least he sometimes loved you. At least, you think so. He might have loved you when he took you fishing, or gave you that book you really liked, or when he buys you clothes that look really nice. You flip through your mother’s old sheet music and fumble through the piano keys, and you think he might love you when he watches you fill this house with her memory without saying anything.

But mostly, he’s not very kind. You don’t want to think about it anymore.

2) ADOLESCENCE

You inherit your mother’s cynicism and your father’s stingy heart. The skill you develop is as much a sense of humor as it is a safety net. If life’s a joke, beat it to the punchline. By the time you’re fifteen, you can no longer pretend that your world is worth saving. You keep it at arm’s length. Your mind makes a mockery of the darkness to keep its jaws at a distance, because if you couldn’t do that, your pitch-black pessimism would swallow you whole.

Growing up feels less like maturing and more like mutating. By the time you’re sixteen, you stop feigning perfection to earn the affection of a father who’s heart is colder than your Blackrock winter. Popular misconception claims control is a word you never learned, but that’s just what you let everyone think. The truth is: control is a lesson you pried out of your body when the need for acceptance evolved into a need to rebel. You’re an embarrassment, Evan. Adolescence meant insurrection. You’re a failure of a son. Pills and booze and boys and girls biting the hand that hit him. Your heart is a bullet and your mouth is a shotgun and you will make yourself repulsive if the alternative is admitting that — Evan, I wish you knew how difficult it is to love you.

You only apply yourself when it matters. You get into Stanford. You take a loan. You don’t let your father pay for tuition, because you’re not letting him control your life anymore. You leave your tar pit town the way your mother did, and it’s only a matter of time before your goodbye is permanent.

It gets better as much as it gets worse. You leave home, but home doesn’t really leave you, and you don’t recognize your body when it’s not in pain. You’re beautiful, though. People see you and want to make you theirs. You let it happen. Too-rough hands salve the ghosts of bruises your father left you. This is the ugliest way of putting it: you feel damaged. Every person you kiss has too-sharp teeth, and maybe that’s exactly how you want it, because if this body doesn’t feel like it belongs to you, then offer it up in a way that feels good.

You always leave first. You love much how it tears them apart. This is your inheritance: your Momma’s love of leaving, and your Daddy’s stingy, stingy heart.

3) THE BITE

Unlike your mother, you tried to come back. Your father called one night, asking if you wanted to return for Christmas, and the small, stupid flicker of hope that your pessimism couldn’t kill begged that you give him a chance.

He didn’t change. He argues about the degree you’re taking with the money you don’t have and insists on carving a future for you, his way. He doesn’t like your independence. He doesn’t like your protests. Your fights are explosive until they aren’t, until a raised fist reminds you exactly what violence he’s capable of.

At least he sometimes loves you. Maybe he loved you when he picked your wounded body up, carried you out of the woods, and bandaged up bite on your side. Maybe he loved you when he brought medicine to your room, and maybe he loved you when made you chicken soup just the way you liked it, even when you didn’t ask. Maybe he loved you when he sat by the side of your bed, and talked about his father, and his father’s father, and how none of them really knew how to grow up without making their sons feel small.

But the fever is strange. A new kind of anger tears out whatever capacity for forgiveness you might have had. Your bones are changing. Something wretched twists and grows inside you, and with a hot flash of pain, you’re something new entirely.

You have one last coherent thought before the wild takes your mind completely.

I have to kill him. So you do.

3.5) THE THINGS YOU DON’T KNOW

The news of your father’s death spreads like wildfire in Blackrock. It’s not your father’s mangled body that causes intrigue, it’s your disappearance. Wolf attacks, while uncommon, aren’t exactly rare, and everyone’s heard the folktales. Neighbors assure that you were there during the evidence, but the police find no evidence of carnage, not a pound of flesh nor drop of blood to support the fearful need to conclude that there’s nothing supernatural about this. You can’t prove the Czarnecki kid isn’t a werewolf, the gossipers say. Nobody can even prove that he’s dead.

4) WOLF-HOOD

You don’t know what strange circumstance landed you in your new body, but maybe you don’t care. Maybe the bite and the fever killed you, and the Buddhists were right. You don’t really know if you earned enough good karma to deserve this reincarnated form, but either way, you’re never letting it go. You hunt deer. You roll around in the snow. You snarl at any predator that dares to get near, and bite the ones that move into your space without permission. Sometimes you walk into the backyards of strangers and wait for children who aren’t afraid to try and approach you. You don’t eat them, because just because you’re a monster now doesn’t mean you don’t have principles.

You lie down. You let them rub your belly.

It’s a really nice life.

5) NOW

Six years after you thought you died, a woman drags you out of the woods you back into your body. Even a lifetime of pain couldn’t prepare you for the shift back. New bones tear your animal flesh apart, piercing your skin open to make room for your wretched old body. It aches in too many ways. The people — the wolves — the ones who did this to you, they tell you this is your home now.

So it wasn’t Buddhism. Maybe it’s the Catholics who’re right; eternal damnation does await the unrepentant sinner, and it looks like this: you’re here, trapped in a frat house for furries, without a cellphone, a car, or clothes of your own, or money to pay a doctor to confirm whether or not you’d acquired a tapeworm.

You realize you owe Stanford 213,000 dollars.

You are a very tired wolf.

TLDR:

Evan has a bad childhood. He becomes a wolf. He kills his father. He mistakes lycanthropy for reincarnation and lives in wolf-nirvana for six whole years. You drag him out of nirvana. The realization that he didn’t actually die puts him in a terrible mood.

CONNECTIONS

( So uhhh I wrote up possible prompts for the existing werewolf skeletons before I knew what anyone was like and I think they can be good jumping points! If you don’t feel this fits your character, or if you want a different sort of dynamic, just message me! )

1) WOLVES (AND BITTEN HUMAN)

ALDER: You’ve seen him at his ugliest — a small, scared creature writhing on the floor, that horrific cross between a howl and a screech leaving his shifting throat. Now there’s a flare of red-hot resentment in his eyes whenever he looks at you, and it makes you wonder if he’s more monstrous as a human than he is a beast. You saved him from death. You realize you cannot save him from life. He’ll never forgive you for that.

HEMLOCK: You are a bootlicker and he does not like you.

HICKORY: It’s not your job to keep the feral wolf in line, but your brother seems to resent whatever circumstance it was that landed him the role of mongrel babysitter. Consider picking up the slack. The guy’s only half-terrible — sullen and strange but mostly manageable, and maybe earning his trust is only a matter of affording him the patience that nobody else wants to offer. If it’s an opportunity to prove this pack your worth, try taking it.

MAPLE: You’ve worked too hard to protect this pack, to earn your position. Now your lot has dragged some feral creature out of the woods, offered him their home, their humanity, and still, he has the nerve to be ungrateful. He makes it clear that he doesn’t trust you. He makes it even clearer that you cannot trust him. Maybe the demons in your head are concussed, but the new demon in your home now insists on giving you a migraine.

PINE: You are a mirror of lost days. You are the young flighty creature he once was and can never become again. Home is a word you might have both forgotten, but circumstance has offered you both a new roof over your heads, and a family to go with it. Maybe these similarities should draw you closer, but there’s a glimmer of resentment in his eyes whenever he looks at you. You don’t know why it’s there. It could be pity. It might be envy. It must be grief.

OAK: He had a father, once, and that shit didn’t end well. For some reason, he sees it fit to pass some unearned blame on you, and now years of buried resentment are yours to bear. Family’s a broken word, he seems to think, but you cannot let him break yours. Still, it’s evident that he lacks the capacity to be as self-sufficient as he’d like, and as long as that’s true, it’s your thumb he’ll be under. You know he needs you. Offer an open hand, or pull the leash tighter. The choice is yours.

REDCEDAR: He shows up at the bookstore to read a new title of Animorphs every other day and you don’t know how that makes you feel.

WILLOW: He might take more kindly to you than he does the others. You’re both new to a home you’re not sure will ever welcome you, and more importantly, you both wanted this. The bite. This beastliness. The difference is that he’s certain. Your condition is a new part of yourself that you have yet to fully love, but he seems to think he can teach you. Man and beast are equally monstrous, he tries to convince you. So let’s be the kind with bigger teeth.

2) OPEN CONNECTIONS

( Open to humans ) has taken an interest in the Czarnecki Werewolf Conspiracy. They’re familiar with the incident — a dead father, a missing son, and the wolf that allegedly kill them both. All the facts line up too neatly, and when somebody who looks to be the ghost of one Evan Czarnecki returns to haunt the streets of Blackrock, they think it’s finally time they get some answers.

( Open to humans ) once knew Evan. Yeah, the kid who always got straight A’s and played piano for Catholic mass? What the actual shit happened to him? They’re watched Evan go from familiar face to murder case overnight, but now, the town recluses have found a new adoptee — and he’s the splitting image of the boy they once knew. Maybe it’s time to reconnect.

3) VAGUE CONCEPTS

he uhhhh (spins wheel) flirted with ( open ) at last drop for free drinks and then realized that spending six years as a wolf made him de-acquire the taste of liquor and now he’s having a crisis

( open ) tells him he needs therapy. evan laughs

this is actually very hard he’s so unsociable

jsut message me... we’ll think of something

#shipper.#about.

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the-lady-frost · 5 years ago

Text

Keys

A Resident Evil One Shot

Life After Death

For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one. -Kahlil Gibran

2006

The keys to the truck were the only thing in her hand.

She waited, breathing quietly, for the things to turn hot as if she'd extracted a smoldering coal from a bed of flames and placed it in the palm of her hand. The keys were quiet. The keys were the only thing left of him.

He'd dove from a window to save his partner. Like a hero in a story he'd once read to her as a girl, he'd died to spare the love of his life from her own demise. The dark fall of all that chestnut hair hid the lowered countenance of the woman in question.

She'd always been his Valentine.

He'd died to make it clear she was his heart.

The voice of the lawyer droned. Claire studied the key ring with a numb acceptance. He'd spent his life fighting. He'd spent his life pushing. He'd spent his life driving toward the end of fear.

He'd died clutching his greatest nemesis until the moment they'd struck the ground in an epic battle of good versus evil. There was no more Wesker. There was no more lies. There was no more evil.

There was no more Chris.

The statement echoed in her head. It rolled and stung. It clung and coveted space where happiness had once lingered.

Claire ignored the hammer of a headache beating at her temples in triumphant announcement. She stared at the keys in her palm and pictured the last time she'd seen him. He'd stood in the dying sun to show her the ring.

The little wink of sapphire and starlight white diamonds. A ring made of sea and sky to compliment the eyes and the favorite shades of his partner. He'd been so nervous. She'd never seen him nervous, but he'd been so eager.

Quietly, Claire had asked, "Does she even know you love her?"

Chris had shrugged and remarked, "Does it matter? I've waited all this time. This thing with Spencer...if he's there, Claire...the answers we'll find...it could open a door to the kind of intel that might bind us all together in a fight against bioterror. It could mean support from all sides of the globe. If we can prove that the T-Virus is just one stage of it...we can finally get the battle back in our court. Maybe..."

He'd trailed off. He'd stared into the horizon and laughed softly, "Maybe she'd like to have a couple kids with me. Maybe she'd like to...see the house Dad and Mom left us in Colorado. Maybe she'd like that."

Claire had felt her throat close up as she encouraged, "Yeah...yeah, maybe she'd like that. She's a fucking idiot if she doesn't."

"I'm gonna ask her...when we get back...I'm gonna ask."

He'd never asked.

He'd taken that ring with him to the grave.

After his funeral, she'd never found it. She had to assume it was on him when he died. She had to assume he'd died with the promise of Jill Valentine in his pocket. He'd died so she could live.

It was the only way Chris Redfield knew how to be.

Claire closed her fingers over the keys and turned away from the lawyer. She was done listening. She was done hearing. She didn't want platitudes and sympathy and courtesy offers of condolences.

She was done.

She just wanted her brother.

And he was dead.

She passed by Jill and paused. Teeth clenched, she told the brunette, "...you better be worth it."

Jill shivered in grief and murmured, "I'm not. I've never been."

"He thought you were...so get your ass out there and prove it."

Claire opened the door on the big black Dodge Ram. It was littered with his things. He had a scattering of change in the ashtray. There was a half empty bottle of Mountain Dew on the floorboard. The visor was pulled down with a pair of Oakleys in black tucked over it. A pair of boots were tossed negligently in the back seat, scuffed and well loved. Dogs tagged dangled from the rear view mirror and a lighter lay uselessly on the dash.

Claire touched the button on the glove box and wasn't failed by her brother even in death. A half smoked pack of Marlboro Reds greeted her along with a wad of papers of bills that he'd left unpaid. Claire pulled one of the carcinogenic sticks and put it between her lips. She struck it up with S.T.A.R.S. zippo on the dash and inhaled sharply.

Her gaze traveled to the center console. Her hand touched it to open it up and show a wadded up B.S.A.A. t-shirt. She pulled it free, relatively sure he'd worn it before work one day before he'd changed into his uniform. She lifted it to her nose and inhaled.

The scent of him surrounded her like a ghost. The cigarette plumbed smoke into the air as she clutched the soft fabric to her face and curled her body forward around it. She hadn't cried once since they'd put him in the ground.

Not a single tear.

The smell of him made her chest seize worse than her lungs inhaling the smoke. She made a small sound of grief and loss.

She cried clinging to the scent of her brother in the cab of the only thing in the world left that she had of him.

She would mourn him for the rest of her life.

She wasn't sure how she went on without him.

It was his heart that stopped beating, but it was hers that was in the grave beside him.

.......

"If you listen...you can hear them sometimes."

He knelt beside her as the blanket of stars twinkled happily in a velvety sky. "Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah. You don't have to use your ears, Chris. You just...you use your heart."

"My heart has ears?"

Claire giggled sweetly, "Of course it does, silly. Your heart has everything. Eyes, ears, fingers...and it remembers how they felt and how they sounded...and how they smelled...it never forgets. Your heart has a brain too."

She felt his cheek lay on the top of her head. She felt his hands tremble and his voice was hoarse as he answered, "C-Bear...you just might be the smartest girl in the world sometimes."

"I know...I get that from them too. You know what you got?"

"...black hair?"

She laughed and hugged him, "...me."

She felt the wet plop of tears on her hair as he squeezed her so tight it made her squirm a little, "Yeah, I did. Maybe they'll tell me how to make sure I never forget it."

"Just use your heart...it will always remember."

"...promise me you'll do it for me if I ever forget."

Claire lifted her head. She smiled while two pairs of the same eyes held on to each other. "...I promise. Whenever you can't...I'll always remember."

..........

The field kicked up chunks of mud and snow. She whipped the wheel and plowed through the ravaged earth. The sun peaked cleanly through the winter clouds. It watched her madness with a kind of quiet judgment.

It was the same kind shared by the man who emerged from the tree line as she jerked the truck to a halt with a squeal of tires. The engine ticked as she threw open the door and climbed out. The cold slapped her face with frigid palms as she called, "What do you want, Kennedy?! You come out here looking for a truck to wreck? This ones taken."

He tilted his head at her. The navy peacoat he wore was fashionably him. It was topped by a scarf in pretty red that made his blonde hair look gold in the dim winter light. The naked trees over his shoulder highlighted the beauty of that perfect face as he mused, "Only one of us on a path of destruction here, kid. You planning to survive the fallout?"

Claire shrugged and stuck a cigarette in her mouth. "Who cares? I'm alone right? I'm repellent for anyone who matters. My parents, men, my brother...they all die and leave me...or they betray me. So will anyone even notice?"

The corner of his mouth quirked, "You been hanging around inside my head lately, CB? Those sound suspiciously like my thoughts and not yours."

She scoffed and accepted the deft flick of the zippo he pulled from his pocket. She inhaled and let him pluck the smoke from her lips to help himself to it. They shared it in silence until she mused, "You see they made Valentine a Captain?"

"...I did." Quietly. No judgment. There seldom was with Leon. He was just that guy. He didn't judge. He just listened.

Claire laughed harshly, "And they awarded my brother a Medal of Bravery. A medal...posthumously. What fucking good is a piece of useless metal? He can't wear it. He's rotting in the ground. They think I'll pin it to his bones?"

Leon shrugged a shoulder, "You do what you want with it. It's yours. It's just an honor, Claire, not an insult to his memory."

She barked out a laugh, "Honor. He dies, she lives, and she takes his command, his company, and his fucking place. He loved her. He loved her and she never loved him back! "

Softly, Leon mused, "...that's rough stuff there."

"Yeah, it is! He was so stupid! Why did he do it!? She mattered more than me!? She's fine! She's fine! But what about me!? Huh? What about me..." Her voice trailed off as the anger hummed around them, "...what about me...you son of a bitch..."

Quietly, Leon soothed, "Redfield's are pretty stupidly stubborn sometimes."

Claire laughed angrily, "No shit. Blind as he was brave."

"Hmm. I think he thought what we all do."

She turned her ravaged gaze to him, imploring, "What? What was he thinking?"

"...that you're the strongest woman he's ever known. That he'd made sure of that. That you took what he taught you and became a warrior. He knew you'd survive him, Claire, because he knew you'd never forget him."

She was so quiet watching him, that he finally added, "He knew you'd keep on living...because that's what we do."

"It's not enough. I need more than that."

His head tilted, "...what do you need?"

The wind rolled around them. It was cold and painful. It was bitter. Like she was.

Leon watched her so gently that she kinda hated him. She envied his tranquility. She wanted it. She wanted anything to alleviate the rage and the loss that ate around her belly with teeth made of regret.

She'd heard the whispers about Leon. She knew what people said. He was cold. He was cut off. He didn't get involved. He didn't date women.

But he sure did fuck them.

She'd steered clear of him all these years because she'd felt something that first night in Raccoon. She'd felt it and she'd gone after Chris and made her choice. She knew she'd burned that bridge back to him. He'd remained her friend, but the idea of lover had been crossed off the moment she'd picked family over him.

She'd heard he was a guy who was really, really good at the one night stand.

She needed anything to take the edge off the misery pooled in her heart. So, she just threw it at him like a bullet, "Take me home."

He studied her. The wind kicked up. It curled up snow around their boots. He could have said no. She had no clue where his car was. She had no idea how he'd gotten there. He could have said no.

Instead, he said, "Give me the keys."

And she gave those keys of her brother's to the only other man in her world she trusted to drive his truck.

He had a reputation for wrecking things.

She was hoping he'd wreck her.

She figured he'd come to his senses before he went through with it. After all, all these years and they'd never touched each other like that. He'd tell her no and talk her down.

He didn't.

She tossed Chris' keys on the table in the living room and backed into her bedroom. He followed her, a predator, shedding clothes as he walked. Her heart, aching like it had been, started to pound painfully behind her breast.

She whispered, "Where do you want me?"

He tilted his head. She licked her dry lips and cleared her throat. She tossed her clothing as she turned on the shower and joined him again in the bedroom. All she wore now was her undershirt and panties.

Naked, he was somehow more beautiful than clothed. She warned, hoarsely, "You aren't gonna tell me I'm grieving?"

"...no."

"You think this is a mistake?"

His head tilted again, "Do you?"

"...fuck no."

"Then tell me how you want it."

Claire felt her breath hitch and her body go wet just waiting for him. "...take me."

"...and?"

"Make it hurt."

"My pleasure."

He came toward her like a lion stalking a gazelle.

The shower was pumping steam into the quiet room. His hands tossed her over his shoulder like she was nothing. He walked them both into it while quaked above him.

What words were there in this moment?

He almost threw her against the wall to kiss her. She grabbed handfuls of his ass to rub him against her belly like a pervert.

He grunted with pleasure and ripped the tiny shirt she wore. He ripped it, right down the middle like it was nothing, it came apart in his hands like flimsy paper. She started to bicycle her legs to get her panties off and he didn't bother to wait for her to finish, he speared his hand into her panties and crudely thrust two fingers into her. She was ready but not ready. Her body clamped around his invading digits even after a cry ripped from her throat in surprise.

He didn't give her a chance to say no, to fight him off, to do anything. He finger fucked her so mercilessly as she tried to get her panties off her lower legs but they were wet and stuck to her ankles like glue. She grabbed at his arms to try to hold herself up? To try to make him wait until she was ready? She had no fucking idea what was happening. She knew only that he drove those fingers into her, cupping his palm against her groin, his thumb shifting to sweep between the damp lips of her sex and brush back and forth over the apex of her body.

His free hand lifted to settle around her throat, his thumb driving against the soft underside of her chin, angling her face back to take more of his tongue. She couldn't get her eyes to close, they were rapturously fastened to his face as he slammed her against the tiled wall and forced himself on her. Forced? No. Force implied a lack of want on her part. She'd not only wanted him, she was dying with it. He simple poured that desperate passion over the top of the both of them until they were drowning.

He ruthlessly drove her body to the peak of pleasure and just when she was about to go over, he shifted. His hand grabbed at her hips and jerked. Her lower body humped forward from the force of it.

He dropped to his knees in the humid, heated, wonderful water. She couldn't think, didn't think. He put his mouth to her and she tried to fall down. He didn't let her, he shifted both her thighs until they were over his shoulders. Her hands scrambled to find something to grab above her and settled on the shelf where the shampoo set.

It fell with a clatter to the ground as she knocked it down in her haste. He jerked her groin to him and feasted on her. Undone she could do nothing but hold on to that shelf and cum. She came, bowing, bucking against his face. His left hand was at her breasts, mounding and taunting, pulling and teasing and taking. His mouth was merciless; it joined his right hand in thrusting into her, over her, through her. Her thighs quivered, pressed against the sides of his head while he ripped her apart one clever, wonderful thrust and bite at a time.

She came screaming while he drowned them both in need.

She could barely stand as he rose. Her thighs tried to snap together and he turned her, roughly, forcing her hands to splay on the wet tile. Her clothes were ripped and useless on her skin. The undershirt still around her shoulders like some kind of flimsy jacket. Her hand snapped back behind her to join his on the length of his dick as he smeared it over her back almost playfully.

He set his teeth into her shoulder as he moved behind her and ran the hard, aching length of himself over the curve of her ass. She shuddered, threw the other hand back and drove her nails into his flank, encouraging him.

His voice was rough, "Condom?"

She shook her head desperately, "No. No. God, no. Just like that. I wanna feel it."

He grunted, "Put me in you, Claire."

She obeyed, angling him into the needy oval of her body as the thunderous spill of water cocooned them.

Christ..how long had they waited?

Too long.

Why hadn't she fucked him after Raccoon? She couldn't think. She couldn't feel anything but the want he shoved into her like he'd shove his dick.

She made a small sound of want and gasped, "Use me. Ok? Use me."

Bracing both hands on the wall beside her, he pushed himself into her body. She gasped, bowed against him, and he sheathed himself into the heat of her to the hilt. He held himself there, spitting her on his body while he gained enough control to not pound her to death against the wall.

She felt him put his forehead against the place where her neck and shoulder met, felt him gather his resolve. Claire turned her head, nuzzled at his face, and took his mouth in a long, wet, tongue thrusting kiss. She rocked back against him, encouraging. She didn't think she'd ever know anything more wonderful than what it felt to feel him thick and deep inside her.

She moved her hips and pulled herself nearly off before pushing herself back on him. His hands moved down and jerked her hips back. He lifted her to her tip toes, angled himself better, and rode her. It was slow and torturous. He went out, he rode in, he caused them both to nearly die with the aching slowness of it.

She humped back against him, desperate. He shook his head and kept the pace slow and steady. She was nearly undone when she pulled away from him. She turned and leaped on him. He caught her, easily, and she took his face and raped his mouth with hers. He was laughing delightedly at her as he pressed her back against the wall and speared her with himself.

They clashed together now, desperate and fast. They ended up across the floor of the shower with her atop him and the water trying to drown them both. She stole his sanity, blanketed them both in that humbling, skin stealing, soul raping rush of greed she felt for him. She held him down now with his arms over his head as she fucked him, forcing his body into hers fast and deep and constant. He was making some sound in his throat, trapped beneath her; a willing victim. He felt her tighten, felt her orgasm as it ripped through her body, and out of her mouth in a desperate cry.

He lifted his upper body off the ground and wrapped his arms around her waist. He surged twice more against her and pressed their mouths together hard enough to bruise if she didn't open for him. She did and his tongue surged inside. He filled her mouth with his desperate gasp and jerked her hard down on him. The slap of skin was musical in the pounding water.

Her wet clothing slapped obscenely.

It felt like they'd waited a life time for a handful of moments together.

It felt like her heart could hear the life inside of both of them.

She wasn't dead. She was just dying and Kennedy was a hero. He saved girls.

He was saving her by fucking her back to life.

........

The keys in her hand were heavy. She clenched her palm around them as the nurse gave her a beautiful smile.

"Is that to your truck?"

Quietly, Claire whispered, "My brother's...my brother's truck...well...I guess it's mine now."

The nurse smiled happily, "Well, I sure hope it has a back seat."

Claire nodded numbly, "...I-yes. Yes it does...yes."

"Good. It's not safe to put a baby seat in the front...the air bags, ya know? Dangerous."

Claire stared at the thing in her other hand beside the keys. The little blob of white on a black background. The nurse leaned over and touched the picture, "See that? That's the heart. You can see it beating."

The heart. The heart beating.

The heart of her baby.

She touched the tiny white blob and clutched the keys.

She'd always wanted children. Always. The timing had never been right. The world...it hadn't allowed it. She'd always wanted them. She'd nursed baby dolls while other girls had planned their weddings.

She'd never needed a man...but she'd always wanted a child. She'd tell Leon. If he didn't want...well...that didn't matter either. She wanted. She wanted him and this baby...but she'd survive if he didn't feel the same.

She'd carry her child in her brother's truck. The only thing in the world that mattered inside the only thing in the world she had left of the man who'd been her world once. Her world inside her world...inside her womb.

Jesus.

The heart never forgot.

And neither would the baby she'd raise to remember.

She paused on the steps of the hospital with the truck waiting for her to drive it and remember.

Leon Kennedy waited in that coat in the cold. He tilted his head at the picture in her hand. "...what do you need, kid?"

Claire clutched the keys in her fist and smiled, shakily, "...I don't wanna be blind anymore. You sure you wanna take me on?"

His teeth flashed, "You're the one who left that night...all you had to do was look back once..."

"And?"

"...and I'd have gone out a window for you."

Her heart stuttered. She felt her eyes swim with tears. "I wanna name him Chris."

Leon heaved out a heavy breath and a laugh, "...god help us all. The Redfield lineage continues."

She clutched her keys so tight she was afraid they'd pierce her palm. "Yeah...it and never forgets."

She came down the stairs. She climbed into her brother's truck beside the man who'd climbed into a nightmare beside her. She took his hand to place it on her belly as she drove.

Chris' shirt was folded in the back seat. His dog tags jingled on the rearview mirror. He was all around her. Him, their parents, their love...it was all pieces of her she'd never forget.

With the man beside her and that hope inside her, it was the first time since Raccoon City she knew there was life after death.

All because he'd given her the keys to his truck...and allowed her drive into her future.

#cleon #claire redfield #residentevil #leonskennedy #biohazard #theladyfrost #oneshot

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twdmusicboxmystery · 6 years ago

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9x16: TD Clues - Just Try to Ignore These; I Dare Ya!

Okay guys, I said this would be a details post, but I think I’m gonna have to push that by one more day. I have SO much to say and so much to post, but I don’t want to bombard you with it all at once. So I sat down to write this and just started with the broader parallels I saw and this is already too long. So again, this today, details tomorrow.

***As always, spoilers abound for 9x16 below. Don’t read until you’ve watched!***

I’m going to talk about what I mentioned last night: The Alone parallel which involved Negan and Judith, the suicide parallel going on with Lydia, and Daryl staring at the paintings in Maggie’s office at Hilltop, since I can tell from comments and messages that that’s definitely on everyone’s mind. (Don’t worry; it’s on mine too. 😉)

Before we begin, let me reiterate something I’ve said many times, and will continue to say whenever we watch a season premiere, a season finale, or the beginning of a new arc. Structurally, first episodes are used to set up what will happen in the coming arc and/or the coming season. Season finales are used to foreshadow and kick us into the next season. We have ample proof of them doing this in the past on TWD, and especially as the big, dramatic reveal of the heads on pikes was last episode, you know this episode had to be all about foreshadowing what is to come. Keep that in mind as you read.

Alone Parallel:

So when we saw the members of TF at Alexandria struggling to get through the snow from where they had been staying (and the fireplace blew up) to Aaron’s house, that’s when Judith ran off. My first thought was that hearing the dog bark that way, out of sight and in the distance somewhere, sounded a LOT like the dog barking outside the funeral home. Of course, that led to Daryl letting the walkers in and Beth disappearing. In this case, Judith disappeared (chasing Dog) and Negan ran after her. Much like Beth ran after Daryl.

Not to mention, at the beginning of the episode, Dog was missing. Kinda like the dog star goes missing but eventually returns?

I didn’t know where it would go, exactly, but made the observation about the dog barking to my group and said I wondered if this would turn into an Alone parallel. Low and behold, it did. We saw several specific Alone callbacks in this sequence. Negan hurt his leg, as Beth did. Different kind of injury, but still. There was the dog, of course. And then, because Judith was feeling weak because of the cold, Negan carried her, bridal style, through the snow.

(Disclaimer for the haters: I’m not saying Negan is in love with Judith, nor am I saying Daryl and Beth’s relationship was the same as Judith and Negan’s. I think there is genuine affection in both cases, but of two different kinds. I’m merely pointing out the actual, physical parallels. Yes followers, if you can’t tell, I’ve been dealing with a lot of hate this week. But moving on…)

So we saw Dog lure Judith away (inadvertently; Dog is not criminal mastermind or anti-TF spy or anything ;D) and Negan chase after her, calling her name, just as Daryl did with Beth in Alone. The major difference here is that Negan quickly finds Judith and brings her home.

This is super-interesting for a couple of reasons. In terms of Judith and Negan, I think it does two things:

1) It probably foreshadows something for next season. Remember, this is the finale and the finale does that. I don’t’ know what it will be, but Negan will probably save Judith from something bigger—maybe the Whisperers?—next season as well.

2) It solidifies Judith and Negan’s relationship. Negan didn’t hesitate to run after Judith and save her, just as if she were his own daughter. As I said above, there’s real affection there and it will probably move him toward being a more productive member of the community. Actually, it already has. Obviously it’s endeared him to Michonne at least enough for her to start considering him an ally rather than an enemy. And that, my friends, heads in a straight line toward Carl’s vision of the future from S8.

But what about TD? Since this is an obvious callback to Alone, I do think we should consider it a Beth thing as well. I think it foreshadows that the thing it’s being paralleled with (Beth’s disappearance from the funeral home and Daryl searching for her) will happen next season as well. What I mean is, just as Negan brought Judith home, Daryl will finally be able to bring Beth home as well. Again, this is a season finale and what we’re seeing set up here will probably happen next season, so I think this points to that.

And while I’m on the subject, let me say this. I know there are plenty of people out there who won’t believe me when I say it, but I’m not predicting Beth’s return in S10 JUST because we didn’t see her in S9. We’ve said since the beginning of the season—mostly because of all the Xs around her—that S10 would make a certain amount of sense for her return. But we have SO much evidence that she’s still coming and very close. I’ll get into it more below, and throughout the week as I post more.

Lydia’s Suicide Arc:

The first thing that tipped us off about this was when Daryl and TF are on the road and they look over to see walkers in the field.

In terms of the plot, they were worried that those walkers might be whisperers. But this LOOKED identical to the walker Shane and Rick saw in the field in S2. In fact, that scene was used in the opening credits for years afterward. We even had theories involving that shot in the opening credits, which is why we recognized it so readily.

The thing is, that scene where Rick and Shane saw the walker in the field originally came from 2x10, 18 Miles Out. If you want to know how many symbols the writers took from that episode and later incorporated into Beth’s arc, read THIS. For purposes of the S9 finale, just recall that 2x10 was Beth’s suicide arc. The one where she cut her wrist—which Daryl razzed her about in Still—but then realized she wanted to live.

Why is this important? Obviously it was being used as a parallel for Lydia, who was also obviously suicidal in this episode. You could even argue that, when she offered the trapped walker her arm, had she gone through with it, it would have bitten either on the forearm or wrist, very close to the same spot Beth cut herself with the mirror.

The thing is, why would they feel the need to include the walkers-in-the-field scene just to show Lydia’s state of mind. It certainly wasn’t necessary. Why callback to Beth? Unless of course there’s some greater purpose to that, you know? So that was very important.

Aside: I do want to say that I think this suicide arc with Lydia had heavy, HEAVY ties to Lizzie and Mica. I’ll talk about that in the next couple of days when I talk more about Carol and Ezekiel and how what happened here is good for TD. But we did see a lot of growth from Carol here, which I thought was beautiful. While she IS falling back into some of her same old patterns, we did see some growth for her, and I really loved seeing it. But more on that later. Trying to stay focused here. So much to say! Dah!

P.S. Angela Kang? One of the writers of 18 Miles Out. Several people worked on that episode, including her, Gimple, Kirkman, and Darabont, but still. She wrote last night’s finale too, and the walker in the field scene appeared in both. I’m just saying, the parallels are FOR REALS, y’all.

Daryl Staring at the Portraits:

Okay, the first thing most people picked up on as being strange is that we didn’t actually SEE Beth’s portrait in this scene. I agree with all of you that it’s weird. But it’s more than just weird. It’s VERY weird. Given that we saw it earlier in the season with Jesus sitting in front of it, and then that we saw her body very obviously in Rick’s vision, why suddenly decide to hide the portrait from us now? It makes no sense.

So on the one hand, I think it’s part of the “what is hidden” theme. They’ve hidden a lot of things about Beth from us, so it’s just more of that. But again, why now after showing us several images of her this season, letting us hear her voice, not to mention all the Henry parallels that were so ridiculously blatant that even non-TDers picked up on them. So why go back to this now?

I think it has everything to do with this scene and Daryl staring at the portraits. I think it boils down to them trying hard not to be too obvious. And, you know, mission accomplished. This was extremely subtle.

So, when Daryl looks at the portraits, watch his face very carefully. (Yes, I’m totally giving you permission to stare at Daryl for hours on end. ;D) And a shout out to Norman for this. Only someone who can use such subtle facial expressions to emote so powerfully could even pull this off. It’s a testament to his acting prowess.

Anyway, some are saying he looked sad when looking at the portraits. Others say he looked happy. I submit that we saw both emotions, but not at the same time.

He first looks up at them and his eyes shift to the left (his right, our left). This is when we see a small, nostalgic smile. Now, the portraits we saw—of Glenn and Hershel—are on the left. So he’s looking at them when he smiles. I think that’s very sweet because it shows that he’s moved past the guilt he felt at both of their deaths and has reached a place where he can remember them fondly and smile.

Then, just for a fraction of section, his eyes shift to the right—where we already know Beth’s portrait hangs—and the smile fades. That’s when he looks sad.

So even just typing that out, I’m having another thought. Let’s look at the writers intentions coming from the opposite direction. Maybe the whole point of showing us Beth’s portrait earlier in the season was specifically so we could figure out what Daryl was looking at in this moment. It was still SUPER subtle, and you pretty much have to watch the show as closely as TD does to get it, but if we hadn’t seen her portrait earlier in the season, we would have no hope of understanding the emotions running across Daryl’s face here. Angela is a sneaky woman, but I like her!

So what am I taking away from this. Oh, so much. The most obvious thing is that he’s not yet moved past his negative feelings over Beth’s death, as he seems to with Glenn and Hershel. So, even after all these seasons, he’s still not over her. (That’s why Donnie would have never happened y’all!)

But something else interesting happened in this scene. Lydia asked him why he left Alexandria in the first place to live on his own in the woods. He tells her that he’ll talk to her about it someday. That’s totally huge, you guys!

First off, once again, this is a season finale, and setting up for next season. So I think it’s safe to say this talk will happen in S10. Small potatoes, maybe, but important to keep in mind.

Second, we’ve been wanting Daryl to talk to SOMEONE about Beth since S5. We’ve predicted more than once that maybe he would talk to Carol about it—such as in 7x10—but we were always wrong and it never happened. I don’t think it ever will. Not with Carol, anyway. But this was kind of a promise that he’ll talk to Lydia about it. Yet another reason all the parallels with Beth/Daryl and Henry/Lydia make sense. Why Daryl seeing their relationship, seeing Lydia lose Henry as he lost Beth, and now fathering Lydia, make perfect sense. He’s the one she’ll talk to.

Now, ostensibly, what she means is why he left Hilltop and that had, plot-wise, to do with Rick and finding Rick’s body. So obviously they’ll talk about that. But if this is going to be a deep heart-to-heart, we all know Daryl’s feelings about what happened with Rick really started with Beth. Why did he search so long and so hard for Rick? Because he never found Beth, either. Why was he so devastated to lose Rick? Because he lost Beth first. And I don’t in any way mean to impugn Rick and Daryl’s relationship. Not at all. But Daryl’s grief for Rick did come on the heels of his unresolved grief for Beth, which made it worse.

So my point is that, even from a purely plot-based standpoint, talking to Lydia about Rick will have to include Beth. But the fact that he said this while standing in front of the portraits, right after he looked at Beth’s and stopped smiling, is a foreshadow that he’ll also talk about Beth. And remember, seeing this in the finale suggests that it’s something that will happen next season, in S10.

So I want to add one more thing to this about when Beth will return. While turning this all over in my head, I couldn’t help but think of 5x10, Them. (When don’t I, right?)

Daryl was super sad all throughout the episode (like Lydia in this one) but finally at the end, managed to talk to Maggie—very briefly—about Beth and even smile about her. It was only after that that the music box woke up.

So I think this is setting up not only that Daryl will talk to Lydia about Beth, but that he’ll actually manage to heal from her death. At least to the point of talking about her fondly and being able to smile at the memories.

And, one more time (yes, I know I’ve hit broken record status, but don’t care) because this is the finale, I believe we’ll see this play out in S10. All this, combined with stuff Angela said last night about S10 really makes it sound like that’s when we’ll see Beth. I’ll get more into the details of that tomorrow.

So while we really hoped we’d see her in S9, and didn’t, nothing we said about S9 has turned out to be wrong. The parallels are still there, the symbolism is still strong, she’s still coming, and soon, but this show is notorious for moving slowly. So we just have to wait a little longer.

And I’ve tried to stress throughout the season that, while most of this shows that we’ll see her in this arc, that didn’t necessarily mean it would be in this season. So while I know lots of people are disappointed not to have seen her last night—I am too—I hope most of you will stick it out. Because our girl is still coming home. At this point, she’s practically circling the neighborhood.

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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rebeltheanomaly · 5 years ago

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Roughdraft/Notes on Grieftale Act 1 Part 3

Papyrus turns around and spots you. "AH! HUMAN! DON'T WORRY ABOUT THE SPIKES, THEY'LL GO DOWN WHEN YOU SOLVE MY PUZZLE!" he grumbles to himself "THAT'S THE ONLY WAY I CAN GET PEOPLE TO SOLVE THEM" then he perks up "REALLY? YOU HAVE A PUZZLE? HAVE I FINALLY MET SOMEONE AS PASSIONATE AS ME?" *Grins* The manufacturer doesn't need it, the buyer doesn't want it, and the user doesn't know he's using it. What is it? "OH! I KNOW THIS ONE! SANS TOLD IT TO ME WHEN HE WAS FEELING MORE LAZY THAN USUAL! IT'S A TOMB! *his grin falters a tiny bit, just to the point that it looks like a condescending smirk* Here's another one, would you rather know the date or cause of your death?* "HMM I DON'T KNOW THIS ONE..." He bends over and rubs his chin and he tries to think.

*Asks another disturbing question* Would you rather murder 3 innocent children or 3 of your closest friends? "I- I WOULD NEVER MURDER ANYONE! THE ANSWER IS NO ONE!" Papyrus cries. "THERE'S ALWAYS ANOTHER WAY! *smile falters, but is internally laughing like a maniac at what is in his eyes, a "Pathetically Naive Idiotic Child who doesn't see the world for what it is", he makes his face one of concern to mask his true intentions* Oh, i'm sorry... I just... Tend to dwell on those things.... Being through what i've been through will do that to you.. Papyrus looks concerned... then perks up. "HERE! SOLVE MY PUZZLE! IT WILL MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER! THEN WHEN THE SPIKES ARE DOWN I CAN GIVE YOU A BIG HUG!!" Ok...*looks around at the puzzle, strategizing, then completing it with ease* "YAY! YOU'RE SO GOOD AT PUZZLES!!" He exclaims, pulling you into a hug. "YOU MUST CARE ABOUT PUZZLES LIKE ME! YOU'LL LIKE NEXT NEXT ONE EVEN MORE!!" He runs off, even floating off the ground, and you see sans a little up ahead, waiting for you apprehensively *Sans senses the demon still in control, and can feel it's aura, it's nothing like Chara or any other fiend he's had to deal with....* Sans feels for the knife in his pocket, gripping it tightly. he stares wearily at you but doesn't make a move, since his brother is still alright. "Hey kid... about what you were trying to do earlier..." he can't seem to bring himself to make eye contact. "nevermind. good job on the puzzle. go on, my brother is waiting for you. just... don't try anything you might regret, okay?" *Grins* The other kid will regret.... *he then walks off* sans's eyes go dark and he tenses, holding himself back. "Calm down sans." he thinks to himself. "They haven't done anything yet. You made a PROMISE." *He runs along, tripping on an icecap "hey, watch the hat!" icecap snaps. "i mean, what hat? i don't have a hat." *grins and runs off with his hat, leading him on a chase* "H-hey! i need that to look cool!" i cries, chasing you up the hill *grins evilly* Have it your way then... *throws it and... basically cuts his head off, like that one guy from Mortal Kombat...... FATALITY!! he turns to dust, his body first, then his head with a shocked expression that says "the ironyyyy" you're now at the top of the hill, and you can see that to safely cross the ice you need to solve another puzzle *goes on, sees the nice cream guy's stall* He looks over at you enthusiastically. "Hey there! Care for some nice cream? It's the frozen treat that warms your heart. I started my own business! See-- every nice cream has a nice message inside the wrapping!" he pulls one out and offers it to you *the gelato suddenly melts and pools at his feet, way more then what's possible, to the point that he's standing in a puddle of it. Suddenly, a giant hand comes out of the puddle and crushes NCR (Fallout joke) guy in it's fists. Lucian looks upon the gorified rabbit creature and sniggers* Guess it's not just revenge that's best served cold... (Insert CSI "Yeaaaahhh!" here) nice cream guy gurgles, his blood turning to dust. he looks down at you with tears in his eyes as his head disappears. You see a fork in the path, the right leading down a hill where you can see sans standing at the bottom, not noticing you. L:*grins, then grimaces, he felt an unpleasant sensation as his skin touched a certain kind of metal, which is picked up by one of Alphys's cameras.... (FORESHADOWING HIS WEAKNESS) He growls and takes whichever path leads to a dead end, scowling to Sans's amusement, though he doesn't know the true extent of his evil yet, he at least knows it's taking control of the kid's body, and that's never a good sign* you find another door to the ruins, with mushrooms in the front. on your way out you find a deer-looking creature, adorned to his dismay with christmas decorations *Ignores it at first, he then takes a vial of blood out of his pocket and rubs it on the burn, soothing it* the deer notices and grimaces (or is that just its face) "that's disgusting." it says. Sans looks over to you, curious. "SANS WHY ARE YOU NEVER WHERE I NEED YOU TO BE" you hear from up the hill. Sans looks up and disappears, leaving you with the deer. (Grins and splashes the rest of the bottle in the deer's face) The deer groans in disgust, rubbing their face in the snow *He finds the decorations become incredibly heavy* the deer is unable to lift their head from the snow, they start to suffocate and struggle, kicking wildly until they run out of breath and energy T^T (The child's leg suddenly turns into a talon as it crushes the Deer's head in with it, grinning) It's so annoying i can only show parts of my true form while i'm stuck in this hideous body... *His leg changes back* But atleast i'm making good progress.. you peer into the cracks in the walls and spot eyes, upon further inspection an entire family of deer are stuck in the ruins, they watch with bloodshot eyes, seeing through you, as if they've stared outside for so long they've lost touch with reality *Looks at them, kinda liking their appearance* Hehe.. *pulls out his Bladed gloves he got from the box, grinning madly* *He lunges at them, ripping one clean in half* (Meanwhile, Alphys discovers an archive on the last creature that had a Crimson soul) Computer: A soul of true evil, those who possess this soul come to spread suffering, madness, chaos and misery. They gain incredible power, and if they manage to kill everything that opposes them they can even destroy the world and remake in their own twisted image. The last one with a Crimson soul comes from prehistoric accounts, when monsters were in their dark ages, for humans hadn't yet came into existence. The Crimson Devil caused several disasters and countless fatalities that happened before earth’s continents were separated. *She sees truly terrifying images, which seem to be artist's interpretations of the event... she has too warn them* Lab:*Alphys's Lab A.I. responds to the words from the computer* So, is it ok to start panicking? "oh my g-goodness, o-oh my!" she gasps, watching the (dog army?) get ripped limb from limb. "this... this is what the files were talking about! i h-have to warn everyone!" she fumbles with her phone, dialing undyne or asgore or anybody that could help. Lab A.I.: Wait.. *rewinds it a little bit, seeing Lucian burn himself on that metal* Do you see that? "Th-this could change everything! I c-can save everyone! oh my gosh, I have to investigate!!" Lab:*scans it* Platinum... Maybe you should look at the archives for the Platinum soul… She scurries to the opposite wall (not visible in the game), which is lined with shelves covered in books. She begins scanning for a book relating to human souls or platinum. The Crimson, unyielding Malice, The Charcoal, Unending despair, and the Platinum, Undying hope... The Crimson will rise and bring utter cataclysm to the world, having learned from it's past mistakes, it will target the one who is destined for the weapon that last took its power. After taking the the body, it will suppress the soul until it is weakened enough to take the body of them, then will challenge the most powerful being that it hasn't yet destroyed, _S__E_ __E___R All will seem hopeless, until the Platinum, along with the Crimson's victims, will all empower the being, now godlike. Even for all the power it has gained, it will fall back to lick its wounds, but not before inflicting the Platinum with an utterly despairing melady The Platinum will turn Charcoal, and even though most of the damage has been reversed, the destined one's family will still be dead by their hand. They will only be saved when the following has been achieved: "The Angel will fall upon belief he is a demon His newfound comrades will cause him to rediscover meaning in his life A black weight will lift on his shining heart And so the new age will begin" i’ll call undyne and we can both support the charcoal soul so it can become platinum again! Lab: Are you really willing to take that chance? Alphys, this isn't some Anime you watch, this is real life, i mean that Prophecy could be only partially true, i mean, this was back when Monsters still believed in Gods for Science sake. (Atheist humor) “monsters will believe again after asgore becomes one, just like i believe in this human!! undyne is going to help too, i just know it!” she dials and explains the situation to undyne, who immediately interrupts her with “WHAT? THERE’S A HUMAN?? WHERE?” Lab:*lets out a long groan* Welp, we're screwed... alphys: oh hush, look we can see the platinum soul in action!! L:*is ambush comedied by Snowdrake* "M.. m.. macaroni and freeze! You gotta chill out, man, or i'll fight you in cold blood!" You slash him across the face. "You're not funny." "THIS won't be funny either!" He cries, sending crescent blades at you, which you dodge effectively, except you slip on the ice a little and take a small cut in the neck. You growl. "Is your flesh rotten as you?" he heckles, continuing to attack you. You dodge more easily this time and get close, smirking. "..heh." You say, staring him right in the eyes. "What are YOU laughin' at?!?" Snowdrake barks, pretending not to be upset. You wanna hear the biggest joke of all? (Incoming Joker reference) "i bet it won't be better than mine." he utters with false bravado *Proceeds to insert nihilism into his head* Everything! All you creatures have ever valued or worked for.. I't all ends... So why care about anything? When everything burns... *grins sadistically as his words worm their way into his mind* One day, you and everything you care about will be gone, and no one will remember it... Life is but a successful virus clinging to a speck of mud suspended in endless nothing... They struggle to make a retort, and slink away utterly crushed… *Grins and manifests his newfound despair as endless jokes playing in his head, constantly reminding him of how pointless everything is, he eventually can't take it anymore...* snowdrake bursts into tears, wiping them away uselessly with his wings. he approaches the river... and just keeps walking until he falls in "as if by accident". in his head he thinks "i guess i walked into that one... ugh that was terrible." he lets himself sink to the bottom, letting out all the air in his chest. (grins and walks on, finding the snowman) Lab: YOU SEE alphys: he was just being rude, he didn't kill him! he just walked off!) "hello traveler! i wish i could see the world like you... please, take a piece of my snow, so that i can?" Lab: I picked up something from that, he was using despair fields to manipulate his emotions... And don't tell me that grin doesn't just scream "Sadistic Psychopath" to you. L: *grins and melts him with Crimson energy, kicks him into the lake, and walks away, he doesn't see the thing rising out of the lake behind him Alphys: What happened to that snowman??? Lab: the negativity magic he radiates... it could have merged with his snow. when he hit the water it froze around him. Lucian:*turns around and grins* This should be interesting.. the ice golem trudges out of the water, its yells incoherent, though if you concentrated you think it might be saying "betrayed" It sends a shower of ice shards down at you *His body lights up in flames of Hatred, then jumping into the golem* your searing heat melts straight through it, leaving a gaping hole in the middle. In the middle hole is a very small, broken soul, which turns to dust. The golem shudders, and turns into water, dousing the area. (grins at his work, he walks on, once again seeing the damned flower) I suppose you want to die too weed? Flowey looks almost intimidated. he's not doing a good job of hiding his nervousness. "unlikely, you overpowered idiot. I'm the prince of this world's future, and you'll get what's coming to you." (he ends up trying to fight back, which happens several times btw) (L guffaws) Goat boy, you had your chance long ago… Flowey starts to grow taller and taller, yet still staying proportional. His face turns dark and twisted. "Now's fine, you idiot" (L's host gains claws, wings, a scorpion-esque tail, and horns) Hehe, you pathetic creatures are all the same... Either too dumb to live, or too weak to fight… Flowey's vines strike the ground like spears, which you dodge successfully, but you get slashed across the arm (not too serious) by one of the last ones. "If it's dumb but it works then it's not dumb, trashbag." flowey says, grinning. (grins) The more damage you do to me, the stronger I become... (tail slashes him) “What? That doesn’t even make sense, you’re just saying that to look cool.” flowey retorts, curving his body away from the tail and sending a shower of pellets Then let me show you... (he realizes attacks that are supposed to do damage only give him more Hp, Atk, and Def.) "What the hell?! HOW ARE YOU DOING THAT?!?" He attacks you with all he has (he pins him to the ground, and stares into his eyes) You clearly don't realize what you're up against! "I..." shit! he thinks. I have to get away! he shrinks at an unexpected rate, weakening your hold of him. He wriggles back into the ground. "don't think this is over, barf brains." he heads for alphys' lab. (he grins and wanders on, wondering if there's any more monsters on the way to snowdin) You approach the bridge, Papyrus and sans waiting on the other side. "HUMAN! THIS IS YOUR FINAL AND MOST DANGEROUS CHALLENGE! BEHOLD! THE GAUNTLET OF DEADLY TERROR!" Deadly objects pop out of a wooden structure above and below the bridge. "WHEN I SAY THE WORD, IT WILL FULLY ACTIVATE! ONLY THE TINIEST CHANCE OF VICTORY WILL REMAIN! ARE YOU READY? BECAUSE! I! AM! ABOUT! TO DO IT!" L: Go ahead.... "well? What's the holdup?" sans asks his bro. "HOLDUP? WHAT HOLDUP? I'M... I'M ABOUT TO ACTIVATE IT NOW!" "that uh... doesn't look very activated." "WELL... THIS CHALLENGE SEEMS... MAYBE TOO EASY FOR THE HUMAN TO DEFEAT. YEAH! WE CAN'T USE THIS ONE! I AM A SKELETON WITH STANDARDS! THIS METHOD IS TOO DIRECT! NO CLASS! AWAY IT GOES" The deadly devices retract into their positions, and papyrus sighs with relief. he runs off, and sans smiles at you awkwardly. "Well... I don't know what my brother is going to do now. Thanks for playing along, i really appreciate it. Just make sure you understand blue attacks, and you'll be fine." (Grins at him, and references his conflict with gaster) I wonder how your father would react..... Knowing you don't even try to save him.... Sans stiffens, his eyes wide and shocked. He rests his hand against his skull, thinking hard with a manic expression. "k-kid... how do you know about gaster?" (he chuckles) You'll know soon enough... (he walks into snowdin, no one seems to have evacuated yet) Sans watches you walk away, unsettled and shaken. He chuckles nervously, grabbing bunches of his sweater in his fists to keep them from shaking. "Heheh... that's right... they probably learned about him in a reset..." He lets go of his sweater, but his hands are still shaking, so he stuffs them into his pockets. His finger brushes against the cold surface of the knife he confiscated. He thinks to himself "I don't remember a reset where they faced gaster... Jeez, I don't have the energy to deal with this right now." He teleports to the entrance of the ruins, sitting down, looking exhausted from the stress. He knocks on the door without thinking. "Knock kno-" his eyes settle on the slight color difference between the snow and toriel's dust in front of him, and his soul squeezes painfully in his chest. He pulls his hood over his head and brings his knees to his chest, burying his head in them to keep warm. he thinks: "The kid's creepy, there's no denying it, but they've been okay so far. They looked genuinely scared and confused when tori-- It couldn't have been them. It had to be a mistake. In any case, they're good to Pap. I'm sure Papyrus will have fun with them... I have time. I'm just... so tired." His eyes close and he drifts to sleep. (explaining why he doesn't save papyrus) (he looks at all the people, he steps inside grillby's, which has no one but a certain fiery bartender at the moment...) His eyes narrow and he stops cleaning his glass. "I'm sorry, we've just closed." (he grins) Then I'll just take my order and leave... (gazes at him) Grillby stares back without any hint of emotion, clearly waiting for you to order. You can sense he's on edge, but nothing he does gives it away. *He grins and slashes at him* Your life. Grillby sort of expected this based on your behavior, so he dodges quickly and throws his glass at you. You dodge as well, but cause a large enough racket that the bear outside walks in. "hey what's goin' on in here? As mayor i need to know!"

#undertale

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madamrogersstorytelling · 6 years ago

Text

You — 2: A Three Letter Word

Ben Barnes/Reader

The second part of this series that I feel is starting to be quite different from what it was supposed to be. Things happen, right? But I kinda like this, where this is going. Thought I didn’t know what to write in this part but when I finally started, it kind of wrote itself. I hope you all like this and want to stay on board till the end!

Words: 2707

Just a few days after New Year’s you found yourself back there at the mall. Walking around gave back the moments, how you couldn’t be sure what you should be actually feeling about all of it. It had been awkward. It had been you listening to them. It hadn’t been like the old days but at the same time, that’s exactly what it had been.

And when you finally got back home in the evening, you found a blaming thought from the back of your spent and tired mind.

You should have turned around.

But would it have been able to change anything? Would it have made a difference?

Knowing that this time you could be on your own, without people who still dared to call themselves your friends, your mind was at ease. This time it was a lot nicer. People were still busy, this time because of the sales, but it was different. Even the snow outside was friendlier.

You felt good. Now that you had shaken all those thoughts and self-blames off. It wasn’t part of your character to dwell in self-pity for longer than it was necessary; and often it even wasn’t. All emotional pain lasts for twelve minutes, anything longer than that comes from your head. The one who had said that had been wise. You walked past the booth where you had bought the smoothie last time and smiled to yourself. This time you just walked past it and took the busy door to get outside.

At the same time as the snow was friendlier now, it had gotten more beautiful. It wasn’t treacherous or cruel, this time it was soft and sweet, almost a bit too friendly to be so cold after all. You saw those glimmering diamonds on the trees, like from a storybook. Your steps were still cracking on the snow, the funny sound that filled the air as people walked by, to the left, to the right, to every single compass point to get where they had to be.

You went to that bookstore again. It was a lot warmer inside than out in the cold winter wind, but it was also harder to breathe. Wind gave you a lot of air to breathe, even though some of it made you cough, but inside, in the middle of people, it was harder. Not too hard; it was never too hard to breathe in a bookstore. A friendly looking woman, who you hadn’t seen before, greeted you asking did you need any help.

“No, thank you, I’m just looking,” you told her with a warm smile.

“Of course, take your time. Ask if you need anything,” she added and walked away.

You nodded and turned away before she had properly left. Your fingers touched many books, but none of them seemed right. Maybe it was because of the busy people around you, but you couldn’t put your mind in the mode of finding a new book to read. It was often hard, especially after reading a very good one. Then it was practically impossible. Your mind gathered titles and authors for rain checks, but you ended up leaving without a new friend.

That didn’t bother you too much. You had made the decision to go in the flower shop today. Its beauty had kept lingering in your head for all those days, the text on the chalkboard.

Come in and admire.

This was a good day for admiring. With your mind at ease, you really felt it was. Perhaps you could find a pretty flower to get home with you…

You walked all the way from the bookstore to the stoplights that’d take you to the flower shop’s street. The street where you had parted your ways with him.

He had visited your thoughts every now and then. He wasn’t filling your thoughts, not in that certain way at least. You remembered his smile with warmth. Those eyes that were so dark they could’ve been gates to whole new worlds. That moment you had shared together.

That moment had made you think that maybe, just maybe, every single day had something good in it. Every single day had something worth remembering, worth appreciating because in the end, the small things mattered. Not the big picture; it was often messy and turned around after some time.

People remembered little things so rarely. A look shared with someone, that smile from the bus driver when you thank him, a cute dog, those small laughs, different tones in them or just a single word someone says to you. People want to believe that big things in life matter more. When the truth is that the small things matter just as much, even more. People should learn to understand the power of small things.

You crossed the street with an older man and a woman with a Papillon. It kept looking up at you like it had just met a new friend, and you couldn’t help the smile that found its way to your lips. The small dog’s cute face, its big ears made you almost touch it but you were able to keep your hands to yourself; you walked right next to the dog when you crossed the street. The woman smiled to you.

“Bailey loves everyone,” she told you. She was about your mother’s age, very sweet woman who seemingly loved her dog very much. “She has been looking at you like that for a while now.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” your eyes found Bailey when you made it to the other side of the stoplights. The woman stopped, and Bailey stopped right in front of you, eyes telling she wanted you to pet her. Her small tail started wagging happily as you finally crouched down in front of her.

She was very happy when you gave her number of pets. Both of your hands caressing her soft coat, you babbled to her all kinds of little praises and told her how cute she was. Bailey kept making those cute sounds, partly whining and partly almost laughing. She danced on her small paws, made a circle and then came back to dance in front of you.

“Yes, you’re cute! You’re so very cute!” you babbled to her, fingers nearly disappearing in the middle of her white fur. The brown parts of her head were almost red like a fox and she even looked like a fox.

When you finally had to get up, Bailey started to dance around in circles. The woman with her laughed just as fondly as you did.

“How old is she?” you asked.

“Two and a half. She’s my granddaughter’s dog but lives with me and my husband. The girl can’t take her home but she wanted a dog, so I thought why don’t we take one for her.”

“That’s sweet,” you said, giving Bailey another pet between her ears. If she was any quicker, she would’ve been able to lick your palm.

“She’s just like that with everyone. Everyone is a potential friend.”

“Of course,” you looked down at jumping and dancing Bailey. “She never stops, huh?”

“No,” the woman chuckled, “she could go on for days. And I don’t think she’ll stop then, either. She stops only to eat and sleep. When my granddaughter comes over, they’re restless together. She’s four. I don’t know does Bailey transmit that to her or the other way around.”

“She’s a sweetie,” you smiled to the dog.

“She is. But we should probably head home. It was nice to meet you.”

“Yes. Maybe we’ll bump into each other again, who knows?”

“Yeah, who knows? Bailey will recognize you from now on.”

You gave her a small laugh and caressed Bailey’s head once more before started to walk again. You had to look over your shoulder to see how Bailey scuttled next to the woman and really looked at every single person very fondly. That dog was so full of love.

You were closer to the door than you thought. The chalkboard was by it again with the exact same text as last time.

Come in and admire.

You saw the squirrel statue in the middle of moss and plants. Someone had added fake snow; you didn’t know what it was made of but it looked very real. It just couldn’t be real, it’d melt. The same woman walked inside the shop, this time without a vase. You could see the white tulips by the counter.

What you didn’t see was that the ground was slippery just before the door. You didn’t see the small sign by the chalkboard that told you to watch your steps.

But someone was there just in time to save you. The door of the shop opened when your foot slipped, you saw a hand and fell against a soft, black coat. An arm wrapped itself around you and you heard a male voice talking somewhere by your head. A bit husky voice but still so soft and caring, almost caressing your ears. There was worry in it, enough that you heard it in the middle of his British accent.

“Whoa, easy… You didn’t see the sign?”

You turned your head a little to meet his eyes as you were going to answer but your mouth just opened.

The same dark eyes, the same messy hair, even the same woolen scarf around his neck and the coat you were leaning against was the one he had had on the last time.

It was him. And that was the only thing you got out of your mouth.

“You…”

He looked confused for a moment but then it hit him. You could see the realization in his eyes.

He saw that moment by the stoplights before Christmas, the girl on the other side, almost against the pole of the lights. How you had smiled to him, and he had thought you had caught him looking at you for a bit too long. He felt the same warmth on his cheeks now too, hoping it wasn’t visible.

“You,” he repeated your word, voice even softer than before. His arm was still around you, now more staying against you than holding you up. “Are you… are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?” he forced himself to speak. He knew he’d get stuck in this odd moment if he didn’t. Blinking his eyes he let the words get free, righting his body a little to touch your shoulder with his free hand.

The way he cared… He didn’t need to, he was just a stranger, and you were another stranger who almost fell right in front of a door. It was touching, filled you with the same warmth as his smile and glances last time.

This man was one of the good ones.

“I’m… I’m fine. Without you, I would be on the ground. Thank you for saving me.”

You could see how his smile changed a bit. He was so humble that you were sure you saw… Was he blushing?

“No, it’s nothing. What kind of a man would I be if I just watched a woman falling?” he chuckled a little. You had to join in, let your eyebrows jump a little in agreement. His hand on your shoulder slid down to your upper arm. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

You nodded when he started to make a caressing movement on your upper arm. “I’m fine, really. I’m sure,” you added the last words when he looked at you, blinking his eyes again. It made his chuckles sound like breathed titters. “Just… I’m not used to falling in someone’s arms instead of on the hard ground.”

He loosened his grip of you, arm still around your form. “If it eases your pain a bit, I’m not the one who saves women every day. I think the feeling’s mutual.”

His cheeks were still slightly pink. And with the way you looked at him, he knew the warmth was visible.

He had just never thought he’d see you again. You… He noticed that he would’ve liked a name more than just a pronoun but didn’t dare to ask. It would’ve been a bit too pushy. And this was the moment for being pushy.

You gave him an assuring smile. “Thank you for saving me anyway. It was my luck that you were coming out of...” The ending was left hanging in the air between the two of you as you swallowed.

“The flower shop. Yeah, why?” he frowned a little, more asking than anything else.

“Nothing, I just…” you shook your head a little as if it was full of buzzing you wanted to get rid of. “I was just wondering… We keep meeting on the almost same spot.”

He gave a titter to that. “Oh… I thought you were going to tell how my masculinity dripped because I came out of a flower shop... I hope you don’t think it’s unmanly of me to like flowers,” he was blinking again, humble as he was.

“No, it’s not unmanly at all…” You shook your head a little again. “It’s actually… It’s quite… cute.”

He looked down at you and the redness of his cheeks became deeper. It was harder and harder for you to look away from him. He was even more beautiful when he was close to you, you could see every single flaw, but he was still the most beautiful man you had ever seen. He let go of you slowly, as if he was worrying you might end up falling on your first step, but kept his gaze on you.

“Thank you,” he was late with that, but it didn’t bother you. It bothered him, though. This moment was very bizarre; literally just meters away from the place you had met for the first time. If he left now, would he meet you by those other stoplights next time? He didn’t want to try.

“Didn’t you find anything?” you noticed only now that his hands were empty.

“No,” it was his turn to shake his head with a kind smile on his lips, “I wasn’t looking for anything, just wandering around. I hope you could find something nice, though. They have very pretty white tulips in a vase…”

His voice drifted away. He was babbling. He kept that kind smile on to make it seem like his sentence ended there. It really ended there.

“Sounds beautiful… I have to take a look at them. I was hoping I could find something nice to take home with me.”

“The tulips are really nice. Just make sure you don’t let them freeze.”

“I won’t let them…”

You looked at him nodding once. He sucked on his lips a little. And when he stopped, the same smile remained. And his gaze remained on you…

You had to get out of this situation before something happened, something you’d regret till the end of your days. As much as leaving now made you feel bad.

“I think I’ll go inside now,” you said and pointed at the door with your finger.

He almost jumped back to give you more space as if he was waking up from his thoughts. “Yes, that’s a good choice. It’s much safer inside. Mind your steps when you come back outside.”

“I will. Thank you again,” you smiled and reached for his forearm to touch. It was a thanking gesture, and thankfully he got the meaning of it. He nodded and let you walk towards the door, following your careful steps with his eyes.

Before he had the chance, you spoke: “It was nice to see you again.”

“Yeah, you too,” he never stopped smiling. “Maybe we’ll meet again.”

“If you like flowers and I’m just about to get inside for the first time… Yeah, I think we might.”

He chuckled a little. “Till the next time, then.”

“Yeah… Bye and thank you.”

“It’s fine, really,” he took a few steps but kept his gaze on you. “Bye.”

You opened the door and went inside, and he started to walk.

At the end of the street he realized he had totally forgotten to ask your name. All he still had was the pronoun, you were still…

You.

****

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#you series #chapter 2 #chapter 2: a three letter word #ben barnes #ben barnes x reader

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