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luckyspacerabbit · 3 years

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would you ever share the background you created for kai leng? i'd be so interested in hearing it!

Hehe, yes! Thank you for waiting anon. I wanted to really think this through and make sure I was working with all the possible details of his character.

Okay, so my goal with fleshing out Kai was not to excuse him as a villain or to necessarily redeem him, but to humanize him and hopefully incur sympathy because I find his depiction as a mysterious lackey boogeyman to be 🙄 one dimensional and playing on racist tropes like the yellow peril ✨ (also bioware making him predominantly chinese + a lil russian. extrapolate what u will lol)

So here is my background for Kai :) Lots of childhood headcanoning and then some general talk about his character/why I chose certain elements as I did (such as dumping that dumb phantom blade for butterfly swords AEORHIG)

Childhood: According to the wiki, Kai is Earthborn, and from his general heritage we can assume that he grew up in Northern China (omg that's where my ancestors are from). The most populous city there is Beijing, which, if there was a spaceport or alliance recruitment anywhere, it would be there.

I headcanon that he was born to a bit of an unsteady family, where it was likely there was estrangement and unsafe conditions between the mother and father that may have created a sense of helplessness and neglect from a young age.

In my canon, Dan Hyun's mom, Hannah Shepard was the head of an agricultural research facility on Trident, and was an old friend of Kai's mom (From University, possibly).

As conditions worsened throughout Kai's childhood, his mom decided to take a chance and flee with Kai (age 10 at the time) to Hannah Shepard's science facility on Trident (Sentinel Agricultural Research Facility), where she and Kai would stay for about two years as his mom worked to save enough money for their own place .

Since Dan Hyun was already being homeschooled, it was easy enough for Kai to join up alongside her.

Dan Hyun (12 at the time) was extremely happy to have a friend since life on the facility could be really lonely-- but with all these changes Kai was having a difficult time adjusting, especially when Dan Hyun felt put off by his competitive attitude. After so long feeling neglected and growing in a tumultuous home environment, he craved external validation: homeschool provided an avenue for that. They developed their own academic-based competitive rivalry that counted towards friendship, but grew distant when he moved out with his mom about two years later.

When Dan Hyun was 18 (Kai at 16), she managed to apply to an Alliance Research Training program and receive admission-- something that was considered highly prestigious, despite her parents' reluctance. Kai had already begun to build resentment towards her due to the way her parents treated her (very preciously, sheltered, and without exposing her to the difficult parts of life) in contrast with what he lacked in family and world kindness, creating a drive to supersede her and compete with her once again, if only to have tangible proof that just because he began in a lower place didn't mean he couldn't surpass the vision of success.

After this event, they would strike up a still somewhat friendly rivalry again that continued until Kai enlisted in the Alliance at the age of 18 (his attempts to join directly at 16 failed in my canon lol, but he sure tried )

Alliance Service:

Kai took the combat-driven route while Dan Hyun was receiving training for her eventual research establishment in Akuze, meaning that in their line of work, they never crossed paths-- Though they maintained occasional communication and met up here and there whenever Kai was back from his tours.

This is where I believe his decline truly began.

Some habits, like his desire for tangible proof of success and seeking external validation, manifested more heavily in this time. Collecting badges off of dead soldiers (To remember his skill first hand) is a notable one, but I speculate he relied heavily on the word of his commanding officers to counter his self-esteem. Titles were incredibly important because they were proof. When he began to feel a loss of control which led to emotional outbursts and breakdowns, he would fall back on these bits of evidence that he had done something, anything.

The weight and violence of service combined to break away his mental strength and conditioned him to that of a soldier.

Famously, he was discharged in 2186 after his N7 designation. In a bar fight on shore leave, he murdered a Krogan (OKAY. Listen. The wiki says "first-degree murder" but first degree requires premeditation and bar fight implies heat of the moment. So IDK I think the details around this one are a little fishy. He was on leave but he was a soldier, so ? he probably just had a weapon on him? Okay, I'm not excusing him but premeditation is a bit different from manslaughter so just something I've pondered. It separates intentional killers from accidental murders).

At this point, he is formally incarcerated and set to serve a twenty-year sentence.

Cerberus Contact:

The year is 2177, and Kai has lost everything he's ever worked for. His prestige is gone, he is at the worst place he has ever been, his mom won't talk to him, and he has no one. He had even stopped hearing from Dan Hyun, the only person he could have considered a friend once.

Through a small TV in the prison, he is able to hear about the attack on Akuze, and its one survivor: Alliance Scientist Dan Hyun Shepard. In the attack her biotic abilities (Which she had kept secret for many years) were revealed, prompting immediate recruitment into the N7 Program and a contract for ten years of service. This drove Kai into rock bottom-- while he had nothing, Dan Hyun was steadily on track to uprooting the only thing he had ever felt like he had accomplished.

This is when Cerberus intervened, promising him a home, freedom, belonging, and success.

So of course Kai agreed. Why wouldn't he? He had nothing left in his miserable life and there would never again be a place for him.

Cerberus Intervention:

It's my belief that Kai wasn't necessarily "alienphobic" in the beginning. Instead, I think The Illusive Man saw a very clear opportunity to recruit and nurture a broken man into a pawn of service. TIM is incredibly smart-- everyone who works for Cerberus is. He knew what Kai needed was validation, the promise of success held directly on the tip of his tongue to drive him into tenacity and action.

Organizations like Cerberus, even in real life, prey on people at weak points, fulfill their needs and drape their ideology on top like icing on a cake. That's not to say that Kai is completely innocent-- he ate the sweets and readily threw the world to the side in order to attain more-- but it does give some perspective.

Kai in Cerberus:

In ME2 we know there is some apprehension on Kai's part about the role Shepard will play. He is already starting to feel slighted from failures with Rasa and takes even the possibility of rejection from TIM extremely hard and with violent emotional outburst. This evidences how much TIM has whittled him away over the decade of service. Kai feels as though he owes everything to TIM, that TIM saw something in him-- failing him is disproving that and accepting what Kai has feared all along: that he truly is a worthless and incapable person.

Kai and Shepard:

Kai is best known for his direct antagonism towards Shepard in the events of ME3, directly killing their allies and potential love interests in a way that is extremely personal. Yes, it is part of the job, but at the same time, it's clear Shepard gets under his skin. It's because in the end, after all that setup, Shepard is the one person who can take it all away from him.

They can replace him as TIM's prodigy/ They can bring an end to the organization that gave him everything (From his cybernetic enhancements (uh indoctrination cough couch) ) to his purpose in life. Kai threw it all in with them because he didn't see another choice.

My Canon: The End

So how do things end for Kai in my canon?

As you're aware, you can unalive him, violently. But Dan Hyun is very emotional and due to their shared childhood, I like to believe that there was still a grand feeling of kinship between them, a recognition of the other due to shared insecurities. I don't think there was ever a time Dan Hyun looked at Kai and saw anything other than her slighted friend (which is very romanticized, but SHE is very romanticized), it was just about getting Kai to see that too.

She locked him down the best she could, yelled, cried, and beat the shit out of him, but ultimately, preserved his life. After the crucible had been fired and Thane (alive ofc) attended to, she sought to right things between her and Kai: whatever form that takes. Who knows if he'll ever be able to live comfortably in society again-- but at least here, he has the chance.

Random Tidbits:

Some notes! At his best, I like that Kai is portrayed as Loyal, Hard Working, Methodical, Clever, Tenacious, and Factual. I think sometimes he can be written off unfairly as wimpy or scared, but in truth, he's very sure of his abilities and able to calculate his chances extremely well. He's smarter than fandom gives him credit for.

He has an interesting conflict between arrogance based on title and humbleness. He knows he wants to be the best but he never airs it-- like when Rasa suggests that he wants to be the leader for Humanity but he grows quiet and says to just focus on where things are at right now.

His time as a soldier absolutely affected him in ways I think sharpened him to the killer he became. It instilled values that remained with him in Cerberus, such as when he berates Bates for abandoning his squad and calls him a traitor. Kai doesn't betray-- he's quite literally ride or die.

Also? The ninja sword is super dumb because Kai is Chinese and the swords and Phantom's themselves are designed to appear Japanese in aesthetic. Ninjas= Japanese, but China did have their own sect of Assassins which I believe gave birth to Wu Ching as a type of Martial Arts? Or was drawn from it hmm

To keep to accuracy, Kai would have trained more towards their martial art techniques which focuses on close combat and quick movements, as well as the use of dual blades called butterfly swords (You'd likely recognize them as a set of rogue daggers).

That's all for that meta! Phew. If anyone actually read to the end, hey wassup, hope you enjoyed, and take most of this with a grain of salt since it's my headcanons and background work :) Thank you again for reading!

#my meta #kai leng #anon #asks #PHEW #THAT TOOK A WHILE #HAHAH #dan hyun shepard #mass effect #meta

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casualreader1234 · 3 years

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Reunion

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

An: Part two of the random story idea I had. I think I'm just going to keep the same summary each time because I'm too bad at writing them. I tried to make this gender-neutral, and I don't think I wrote anything that would imply a particular sex, but let me know.

Summary: What if you weren't the hero of the story? What if you were the villain meant to burn the world down?

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warning: Morally gray protagonist, violence

Word Count: 2k

[Part 1], [Part 2]

This gif is so funny to me.

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When you had first arrived in the U.S, you had been intrigued by tales of the infamous Black Widow, a former Russian assassin turned good, that was enough to catch anyone's attention. To satisfy your curiosity, you had tracked her down, wanting to see her for yourself. Watching her from afar, you understood why she was considered one of the best in her field: her movements always flowed into the next like she was performing a dance.

She easily disposed of her targets, strapping her weapons back onto herself. Seeing the completion of her job, you left the ledge of the building you had been standing of before she could see you. Slipping into the shadow, you had to admit that your interests had been piqued by the assassin.

///

You had always known that your girlfriend had been hiding secrets, but this one was far more exciting than you had thought. Never had it crossed your mind that Natasha might also be involve in the assassin industry. For such a planet, what were the chances of two assassins meeting and starting a relationship without either being the wiser. You weren't sure if that made her exceptionally good at her job, or you exceptionally bad at yours.

Asking around to some of your other contacts, you learned more about the KGB and the Red Room program that had trained Natasha, wanting a glimpse into her childhood. Disgust and rage filled you when you learned about the operation. They had hurt her, so you had made sure they all suffered for their crimes. Then, you returned back to America.

It was the reason you had stayed all these years. She was the reason. Though you've known where she's been all this time, you never revealed yourself. Maybe it was out of fear. Maybe it was out of shame.

It hadn't surprised you that Natasha decided to work for SHIELD. You've also known that she had a good heart, but it did make things more complicated.

She was one of the good guys now. If she ever crossed paths with you, she would be forced to face you as an enemy. So, for both of your sakes, you avoided doing things that would get SHIELD attention, carefully selecting jobs that would run under the radar. You had been careful, erasing most of your tracks, yet here you were, chained down to a table in a SHIELD facility.

Natalia-no-Natasha stared down at you. You unconsciously cringed under her intense gaze.

" How are you darling?" You asked, breaking the thick silence and giving her a small smile. "I must say, you look as stunning as always. Did you do something to your hair? It seems to be shorter."

Natasha didn't reply, instead shaking her head angrily. " What the hell, (Y/n). What are you doing in the U.S?"

Her harsh tone almost made you flinch. “ Here to visit my beautiful girlfriend? I've really missed you.” You tried, feeling a bead of sweat roll down your neck. Natasha may not have any powers but damn was this woman scary when she was mad. Flattery wasn't going to work on Nat though, her face stone cold as she looked down at you.

"That doesn't answer the question, milyy (darling)." She replied with a strained smile.

Tony watched the exchange with a slack jaw, eyes looking like they were going to pop out of his sockets from shock. “ I’m sorry? You know this criminal Nat?”

Your head snapped to the man, jaw clenching. “ Nat?" You sputtered at the intimate nickname. "Who gave you permission to call her Nat?” You swiveled back to look at Natasha. “What is your relationship with him?” You asked accusingly.

Natasha rolled her eyes, turning to Tony. “ Don’t call me Nat, Stark. And this idiot here is (Y/N).”

"Yeah, her [girlfriend/boyfriend] ! " You added helpfully.

The look Natasha gave you was deadly enough to silence you again. She turned her attention back to Tony, " Do you want to fill me on what's happening Stark? I return from a mission and hear from Steve that we had caught a mutant, but I wasn't even aware that we were after one." You frowned at the fact that had she referred to you as a mutant, but chose to ignore it.

Tony shrugged, acting like a bratty overgrown child," No, I don't want to." Natasha's jaw clenched and you decided to lend a helping hand.

Tendrils of black suddenly snaked around Tony, pining him hard against the wall behind him. His eyes widened, shooting to the origin of the magic, seeing you now unbounded and smiling widely at him, the handcuff hanging loosely off the table. Standing up, you rubbed at the red marks on your wrist left by the binds.

"Better answer her, Mr. Stark, I wouldn't want to get on her bad side." You threatened, eyes turning pure black for a split second.

Tony desperately looked at Natasha for help, but she stayed steadfast, unmoved and patiently waiting for him to answer. Realizing that no help was coming, he relented. "Fury got tipped off about some assassin that had been piling up bodies all across the U.S and North America. At first we dismissed them as the work of sporadic killers, not linking the deaths together until we got another tip about them being a mutant. We had Wanda examine a few of the bodies and she confirmed that magic was the cause of death. Since then, we've had our eye set on a contracted killer who went by the alias Reaper. A few weeks ago, we got a hit on their last location, and from there, we planned our trap."

Realization dawned onto you, " You put a bounty over yourself!" You exclaimed with a chuckle, thoroughly impressed by their commitment. It was a good plan, one that you hadn't even considered. Of course, if it had been any other week, the plan would've failed.

Every time you used magic, there was a backlash. The magic was deep inside you, a part of your very being, but it didn't stay that way willingly. The black flames were a dark and ancient form of magic, one that could only be wielded by a select few. Long ago, many groups had tried to master the arts, but most failed. The magic was powerful, more than anyone really knew, and only grew more so as it consumed more energy. Magicians didn't as much wield the magic, as they did subjugate it.

Candidates trained for years in preparation for the infusion, getting their body ready to handle massive amount of energy. When they were deemed ready, they would be exposed to a pure form of the magic. The flames would consume them and their screams could be heard for miles. Most people who entered the last trial end up dead, completely consumed by the magic. A few though, came out stronger. Instead of being consumed by the flames, they had somehow consumed the flames, magic now flowing through their veins.

Even then, the magic inside of wielders fought against their vessels, constantly trying to escape. The ring you wore helped you control the magic inside, absorbing some of the power and trapping the rest of the flames within you, where it couldn't escape and grow any stronger. But every time you took off the ring, you unintentionally let the magic grow, and when it finally returns back to you, the fight inside gets a little tougher.

Normally, it didn't affect you much. You had been trained since childhood to control the magic, so you could go hours with continuous magic use without any major repercussion. But the past month, you had really tested your bounds, toeing the limits of your control. This inevitably degraded your mental state, leaving your mind a little hazy. This meant you were a lot more impulsive and less observant, something that played in favor to SHIELD's trap. You knew you shouldn't have taken the hit on Tony, especially due to your exhaustion, but you had let your excitement of possibly seeing Natasha blind you. Nevertheless, the current situation didn't really worry you anyways, although you made a note to deal with a problem later.

"And why wasn't I informed of this?" Natasha pressed on.

"Don't take it personally. You're area of skills weren't required for the job, so you weren't informed. Simple as that." Tony plainly stated, clearly sensing the Russian's agitation.

You had to stifle your laughter at the irony. If Natasha had been assigned to the case earlier, you probably would've been captured much sooner.

Natasha bit the inside of her cheek, obviously deep in thought as well. " Release him, (Y/N)." She finally said and you happily obliged, but not sliding you ring back on, letting the flames surround you in a hazy aura incase you needed to react to any threats. Tony let out of breathe of relief as your magic retreated, but you could see that he was still a bit shaken up, the effects not fully wearing off.

"Hey are you alright darling?" You asked concernedly, ignoring the wobbling man when you caught Natasha looking a little pale. Walking over to where she was, you reached out a hand to lightly caress her cheek, the flames retreating as it reached her. You hesitated for a split second, unsure of how she would react, but Natasha leaned into your touch. Her eyes met yours. It was the same bright green that you dreamt about, and they looked even more dazzling up close. She smiled up at you and it was like all the years you've spent apart hadn't happened.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She whispered reassuringly and you smiled too in relief. “ What does Fury want with the (Y/N)?” She asked Tony, but her eyes didn't leave you.

“ The same thing we do to all threats. We either eliminate or imprison them .” He answered, voice indifferent.

Natasha turned to him, much to your dismay, “Why can’t we accept them into SHIELD?” she offered instead.

Tony, who had thought your weird relationship with Natasha was the strangest thing that could happen, couldn't believe what he was hearing. “You want to let an assassin into our ranks? Are you crazy?! Did you already get your hands on the vodka shelf?” He stammered.

Natasha gave him a dark look, one that sent a chill of excitement down your spine, “I was an assassin too Tony.”

Tony didn’t seem to know how to respond to that, but he didn’t need to. The door to the room swung opened again, this time a larger blonde man marching in. You recognized him from your intel: Steve Rogers-Captain America. Behind him, you saw several heavily armed agents behind him, their guns trained on you.

Natasha whipped around at the sudden intrusion, surprise flashing across her face. " Steve." She said warningly, noticing the same things you did, but Steve didn't let her finish, already throwing out his shield in attack. The metal was launched at you, cutting through the air faster than the eyes could follow.

You easily caught it, magic stopping it mid-flight.

You sighed at his pathetic attempt, " Mr. Rogers, don't you know it's rude to interrupt? You can't just come in here, guns blazing, and shield flying." You reprimanded, lazily throwing the shield back to the man. Steve tried to catch the shield, but was knocked back by the sheer force of your throw. The men immediately behind him stumbled back in shock as the 6'1 super solider crashed into them. Those who were left standing quickly recovered and upon realizing that their first line of attack had been beaten, prepared to shoot. They found themselves unable to. Fear had crept up on them during the ruckus and now they were unable to move as your magic seeped through them. With a simple wave of your hand, the black flames around you attacked and within seconds, all the agents, including Cap, dropped to the floor.

"What?" Tony gasped in horror, and for the first time, he seemed to truly understand the extent of your power.

"Relax, they're not dead. I just knocked them out for-" You pretended to check your wrist for a watch, " -a while. I don't know, I usually don't wait around for the people I knock out to wake back up."

Natasha was staring in shock at the pile of bodies by the door and you saw something indistinguishable in her eyes. A distinct chime echoed off the walls of the room, drawing your attention to your phone in the corner. You walked over to it, Tony looking like he wanted to stop you but was too terrified to. Picking it up, you read the message silently. Shouting could be heard getting louder, footsteps pounding towards you as alarms blared.

"Looks like that's my cue to leave." You announced to Natasha and Tony. " Sorry to cut our reunion short Talia."

Natasha stepped forward, blinking out of her shock. "(Y/N) wait-!" She began.

"Don't worry, I think I'll be staying a little bit longer in New York. We'll see each other soon my love." You promised, picking up one of the fallen agent's guns and shooting out the lights until you were enveloped in pitch darkness. Then, before the backup agents could arrive, you melted away into the shadows.

///

You emerged from a dark alleyway in some shifty part of the Bronx. Pulling out your phone, you replied to Matt, your associate, declining the new job he had sent over, informing him that you would be taking a vacation for a while.

Seeing Natasha had reminded you of how much you actually missed her, and you didn't want to just leave New York yet, not when you barely had the chance to catch up with your lover.

But first, you had a snitch to catch. Someone had tipped off SHIELD about you. Someone who knew you about your power at that. You couldn't let someone so dangerous live.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Powers of Reader [Will be updated as more information is learned about Reader]

-Ability to set fear in opponents

-Ability to melt into shadows (teleportation like: goes into one shadow, pops up somewhere else)

-Magic flames that kill people(?) and knocks them out(?)

-Major simp for Natasha (special skill)

#natasha romanoff #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel fanfic series

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annabethy · 4 years

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under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow day 24: christmas carols

Character A doesn’t feel the Christmas spirit but Character B, who lives above them, keeps playing Christmas carols really loud,, percabeth

Annabeth has never been one to thoroughly enjoy the holidays. She doesn’t necessarily have anything against them, but they’re just not for her. They never have been, for as long as she can remember.

She didn’t get any presents when she was little. Her family did the bare minimum for Christmas. There might have been a tree with the blandest decorations, but that was it. So she grew up with a rather distasteful opinion towards Christmas too. To be fair, it’s more to do with her family than the actual holiday itself, but there’s an association, and now she can’t stand either.

That’s why she decided to move away from California as fast as possible. She graduated high school and booked it, not looking back since. And it was difficult surviving in New York City without any financial support, especially as a college student, but she managed. She worked hard and found a decent apartment.

Or she had thought she found a decent apartment, but there’s ear-shattering Christmas carols playing above her head that cause her to rethink that particular detail.

“You’re kidding me,” she mutters as another starts to play. It’s not even muffled – that’s how loud the music is, and she genuinely doesn’t understand how another person can be so oblivious.

She tries to brush it off for the better part of an hour, assuming that someone else would ask them to shut up, but nothing happens. If anything, it gets worse because the Christmas carols get louder and more unbearable.

An hour finally passes and her willpower fades.

Annabeth tugs on a jacket and slides her feet into the first shoes she sees. She’s vaguely aware of moving around with much more aggression than the situation calls for, but now the person above her seems to have started singing along, and she thinks that violence is the only language this person understands.

It only takes a few seconds of knocking at their door before it swings open. The person she now knows is a guy has a smile on his face that quickly falls when he takes in her own face.

“Hey,” he starts, eyes roaming her face. “Are you okay?”

“Actually, I’m not,” she says. “I think my brain may be hemorrhaging.”

She can see his face morph into confusion. His green eyes actually look a bit concerned for her as he scratches his neck. “What do you mean?”

“Your music is so loud it’s making my brain bleed,” she snaps. “Can you just, you know, have some consideration for those around you and turn it down?”

“My music is too loud?”

“It’s giving me a headache, so I don’t know how you haven’t gone deaf yet.”

“But… they’re Christmas carols.”

“Yeah, I was able to hear that. Because they were loud.” “You don’t like Christmas carols?” He asks it with such passion that she thinks he’ll be seriously offended if she says no.

“I think Christmas carols are a disgrace to humanity.”

He actually gasps, a hand over his heart, but there’s a subtle grin on his face that lets her know he’s only messing with her. “I am so sorry for you.”

Annabeth’s jaw drops slightly. “Sorry for me? I’m sorry that you have horrible music taste.”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “You don’t even know me, so how could you possibly know I have bad music taste?”

“I’ve been listening to you blast music for an hour, so trust me when I saw I know.”

He laughs. “Come on, you have to at least give me a chance to prove you wrong.”

“Prove me wrong?”

“To show you I have amazing music taste, and that Christmas carols are the best things to exist.”

She watches as his eyes trace over her, and she can practically sense the approval in his eyes. It makes her heat up just a little bit, and she crosses her arms over herself. “How do you plan on proving that to me?”

“You could come in and I will give you a three hour long monologue about the history of carols and their importance to the Christmas culture.”

She blinks.

“Or you could come in and help me make a gingerbread house while singing Christmas carols with me,” he suggests.

“You’re inviting a stranger into your apartment? What if I were a serial killer?”

“Jokes on you because I don’t have any cereal in my apartment.”

It takes her a moment to get the joke before she snorts at its pure lameness.

“At least let me make up for destroying your brain,” he says, opening the door wider.

“I still don’t know your name.”

“I’m Percy,” he says as though it makes up for everything else.

He’s funny, she decides. “Annabeth.”

He lifts the side of his lips in a lopsided smile. He doesn’t say anything else, simply stepping aside to let her in. She can’t believe she’s actually considering walking into a stranger’s apartment, but then she remembers that he was blasting Christmas carols, so how dangerous could he really be?

She walks inside and the music seems to increase tenfold. He goes to lower the volume from his phone, and it offers immediate relief as the pounding in her eardrums stop.

“Is that better?” he asks.

“The volume is better,” she says, “but the music is still abhorrent.”

“You take that back.”

Annabeth laughs softly as she joins him at the counter. There’s a gingerbread house out and in complete shambles. There is also piped frosting, and it gives her the impression that this is not his first attempt at this.

She looks up at him and finds his eyes already on her. It’s not in a rude way — he seems to be more intrigued by her than anything, and she doesn’t blame him. They’ve lived right next to each other, yet they’ve never met before. She’s just as fascinated by him and his distasteful melodies.

“You wouldn’t happen to be good at gingerbread houses, would you?” he asks, hopeful.

“Actually, I happen to be a competitive gingerbread house maker.”

“Really?”

“I’m an architect,” she tells him, twisting the plate with the house on them. “And I make a mean gingerbread house.”

“Please help me.”

“Why do you even need to make this?”

“I was bored because all my friends went home for Christmas, so I figured why not make a gingerbread house except I can’t get the sides of the house to stick for shit.”

“Enough said.” With that, Annabeth ties her hair up in an impromptu bun, grabbing the frosting from the counter. She truly did not come up to his apartment with any intention other than to make him feel pain for the suffering he’s caused, but then he presented her with this challenge, and she just couldn’t resist.

She certainly didn’t intent on liking it in his apartment either. He’s super kind she learns quickly. He offers her a helping hand and complements her every move, and he’s generally a very inclusive person. He asks her questions about herself and seems to be genuinely interested in her answers. It’s subtle, but in the back of her mind she thinks that she really likes him.

It’s mortifying that it happens in the span of one night, but even the three hours spent with them attempting to piece together a masterpiece (and baking more pieces at Annabeth’s request so that they can recreate a mansion) she finds herself laughing more than she has in months.

“I can’t believe you’re actually this good at making gingerbread houses,” he comments, leaning in close as she pipes an individual icicle onto the roof of it.

“I’m not sure what you expected from an architect.”

“Yeah, but… the person who just happens to come so they can murder me is exactly who I needed. You know what they call that?”

“Coincidence?”

“A Christmas miracle!”

She rolls her eyes, setting the icing down. “I’m only here for the decorating.”

“And because I need to show you that Christmas music is a blessing,” he reminds her. “It’s not possible.”

“It is, actually, because while you’ve been decorating, you’ve also been doing this little dance.

She freezes, just now realizing what she was doing. “I have not.”

“You have,” he says. “It’s cute.”

“I would simply never dance to Christmas music because I hate Christmas.”

“What reason could you possibly have for hating Christmas?”

“I never got to put the star on top of the tree.”

“Is that it?” Percy rolls his eyes. “You can put the star on top of my tree.”

Annabeth’s heart immediately jumps up, and she can’t stop the smile that spreads across her face. It’s so silly, putting a star on top of the tree, but it’s made her so excited for some reason.

“Do you want to?”

“It’s okay,” she says, keeping her voice steady. He smiles softly, grabbing her hand and dragging her away from the kitchen counter. His tree is small in the corner of the living room, and it’s mostly decorated. There is a box of ornaments sitting on a table besides him that lets her know he just hasn’t gotten the chance to finish decorating, and the star is beside it. He picks it up and hands it to her, an amused look on his face.

“Here,” he says.

She crosses her arms. “I’m not doing it if you’re going to laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you!” he assures.

“You’re laughing right now.”

“Because it’s adorable. Come on. Please?”

She gives him a last look before setting the star on top of the tree. It’s a bit taller than her so she has to stand on her toes and lean over it, and he steadies her with a hand on her waist. She takes a step back to look at it. It’s a bit crooked, but as she goes to fix it, he stops her.

“Leave it. It’s perfect.”

“It’s crooked.”

“That’s the point of Christmas! It doesn’t need to be perfect. It’s supposed to be warm and fun and leave you with that fuzzy feeling.”

Annabeth definitely feels that fuzzy feeling, but it’s not from the tree. It’s from the look he’s giving her that makes her face blush.

“You’re not going anywhere for Christmas, are you?”

She glances at him. “No. Why?”

“I just assumed because you said your family wasn’t the best. But I don’t think you should be alone for Christmas.”

“You’re alone for Christmas,” she points out.

“And I was trying to blast music to forget that little fact. It wasn’t working very well, but now you’re here!” She smirks.

“I think you should come over tomorrow so that neither of us have to be alone on Christmas.”

“I don’t want to intrude, Percy.”

“You’ve been here for hours now, and I’ve loved every second of it.” He elbows her lightly. “Come on. We can even make another gingerbread house.”

“I do love making gingerbread houses,” she says with a smile morphing into her face.

“Also I kind of like you.”

“Even if I came here with the intention of yelling at you?”

“To be fair, you did yell at me. I just thought you were cute and invited you in anyways, and you came in so you must also think I’m cute.”

“I think there might be a flaw in your logic there.”

“But am I wrong?”

She doesn’t answer because he’s not wrong. He’s sweeter than frosting, and he’s looking at her with such adoration that she really doesn’t want to leave and be alone on Christmas. Now she doesn’t have to.

“I’ll stay,” she playfully concedes, “if you really want me to.”

“I do.”

“But only on two conditions,” she says.

“And what are those conditions?”

“One, you have to put on some good Christmas music.” “What do you mean good Christmas music!”

“And two,” she starts, laughing at his bewildered expression, “Kiss me.”

That gets him to laugh, throwing his head back. “A kiss?”

“A kiss,” she confirms. “After all, you think I’m ‘cute.’”

His fingers curl around her waist. “You’re very cute. My cute neighbor.”

“And if you kiss me, then… maybe it can be more than just a cute neighbor.”

She knows she’s pushing her luck, but she’s always been good at reading people, and she can read him. She knows he feels the same thing she is. His eyes burn bright.

“If you say so,” he whispers, pulling her in and kissing her hard. It takes her breath away, and she wonders how she’s missed someone right in front of her.

Hours earlier, she’d been upset that he was playing music so loud, but now…

She’d never tell him, but she thinks she might like Christmas carols.

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #my writing

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talesofesther · 4 years

Text

Anchor - Part 6

Five Hargreeves x Reader

Masterlist with the other parts

See part one for important notes

A/N: Woop here I am releasing the new part earlier because I finished writing it and I'm a nice gal. So, I think this part is significantly smaller than the last one, but I wanted it to end where it did. Also, for some reason it was a bit harder for me to write this part, I don't know why. But I hope it's not too awful and you guys like it anyway. Plus, Five has no idea of how to control his feelings, poor boy ksjdkjsd. If you wanna be added to the tag list, let me know. ♥

“That woman we met before we went to the theater in 2019. She called you an assassin… Is that true?” Y/N asked carefully, trying not to break the almost peaceful aura of the room. A part of her didn’t want to know the answer, unsure of how things would be once she did. But she needed to know.

Five closed his eyes once again. That was the one question he wished she wouldn’t ask.

The boy let out a shaky breath. Why was he so nervous? He wasn't like this when he talked about it with Luther, why is he like this now? Maybe it was the fact that he didn't have to worry about Luther leaving, him being his brother and all. But her, she had that choice. Y/N had the choice to never look him in the face again. And that terrified him for some reason.

But seeing as he didn't have a way out now, he preceded to tell Y/N everything. Five's voice was uncharacteristically soft and cautious. He told her that the woman they had met, The Handler, found him in the apocalypse and offered him a job. He told her how they transformed him into an instrument of correcting the timeline by killing. How this was his only way of surviving until he could figure out his equation and get back to 2019. He told her everything. And all the while Y/N was just staring intently at him. Sometimes she would furrow her brows while processing some information, but other than that, there was no reaction.

"I was good at what I did. But I never enjoyed it". Five added as soon as he finished his explanation. He moved uncomfortably on his seat on the couch, anxiously waiting for some kind of reaction from Y/N. He didn't even realize he was griping his shorts in nervousness like a teenage boy talking to his crush.

"So you really are an assassin" Y/N whispered, more to herself than to him. She looked up at the ceiling, took a deep breath, and looked down at her hands. "A hitman".

"I was. Yes" Five's voice was so low that if she hadn't been sitting next to him she wouldn't have heard it. Like he himself didn't want to accept this as his reality.

Y/N let out another sigh as she risked a look up at his face. Five looked troubled, his eyes never left her face and he seemed like he was clenching his teeth in anxiousness or anticipation. For what? She thought. What does he think I'll do? I don't even know myself.

That was true. Y/N had no idea how to react, or what to say to all of this. What do you do when someone tells you they're an assassin? That they literally take human lives?

You run, scared for your own life? But Y/N didn't want to be scared of him. Despite his serious facade, Five was proving to be a sweet person. Maybe a bit socially awkward, but sweet.

Do you go to the police? Because killing is so very wrong? But Y/N knew that accepting that job was the only way Five could stay alive. It was the only way he could get back to 2019, to save his family. And come to think of it, she would be dead too if he hadn't come back to stop the apocalypse.

This was all way too much to process. Y/N's thoughts were starting to get conflicted. She needed time.

"Did you kill innocent people too?" The girl asked him.

"Sometimes" was all Five could answer. He knew there was no reason to lie now.

Y/N almost felt an urge to hug the boy again. He looked so lost right now. His big eyes were looking at her intently, pleading for her to understand, and they were shining. Shining in the yellow light coming from the street. Y/N could get lost in those eyes, and she almost did, but she needed time.

She just nodded at him and averted her gaze.

Five gulped and looked away from her as well. Understanding her silent demand. That was it then. He presumed she was now scared of him or something, but then, who wouldn't? She wasn't his for him to lose her, and yet he felt like he had. She clearly didn't want anything to do with him anymore, right? For the first time, Five acknowledged how broke and tainted he really was. The apocalypse was everything he knew, once that was over, he had no idea what to do with himself. And now he realized that no one would ever care enough about him to help him figure it out. He was a killer, a person that grew up alone and had probably too much traumatic baggage to carry. And no one would want to deal with that.

Ignoring his quivering lip and the annoying tears prickling at his eyes, Five got up and teleported away. Y/N's rejection hurt him way more than he would care to admit.

_________

Y/N woke up the next morning hearing distant voices talking in the living room. The first thing she felt was her back hurting from sleeping on the couch all night.

After Five just teleported away without even saying goodnight, Y/N took the time to think about the things he had told her. She would be lying if she said that Five admitting that he killed people didn't worry her. But she eventually came to the conclusion that he had no other options and she would have probably done the same in his place. So all in all, she accepted it. It was definitely a lot to take in, but she knew that Five was a good person. And she trusted him.

The girl slowly sat up and stretched, her eyes slowly adjusting to the sunlight that was coming through the windows. Elliott's place was still a mess, but she soon saw him and Five talking in the corner.

"Can you develop it or not?" Five asked with an impatient voice.

"Sure" Elliott answered while he ate his cereal.

"How long?" Five said as his eyes drifted to Y/N's moving form getting up from the couch. His demeanor suddenly becoming tense.

"Maybe five, six hours" Elliott said as he followed Five's stare to Y/N's direction. "Morning girl". He lifted up his spoon to her.

"It's Y/N" she saluted him. "Morning Elliott".

Y/N got up and started walking towards them. Five abruptly turned away and drove his attention to all the papers pinned to the walls, all of Elliott's theories suddenly becoming very interesting as he did his best to ignore Y/N's presence.

"Um hey Elliott, do you still have some of this cereal left?" The girl asked while she tried to make her hair more presentable, pointing to what Elliott was eating.

"Sure. I'll get some for you" and so he disappeared into the kitchen.

"Thank you" the girl called to him.

Then she turned her eyes to Five, who was standing in front of her, but had his back to her. His shoulders were definitely too tense for this early in the morning.

"Good morning Five, did you sleep well?" Y/N tried to sound as casual as possible. Maybe not addressing the whole assassin thing would be better? She made her way to stay right beside him, their shoulders brushing. The boy became even tenser if that was even possible. His eyes intensely staring into a random newspaper article.

No. Five wanted to answer, he didn't sleep well at all. His night was plagued by nightmares, as usual. He couldn't say he was used to them, he didn't think he ever would be, but he knew they would come every night. But last night Y/N had made an appearance in them, it wasn't a pleasant one, and that's something he wasn't expecting. So no, he didn't sleep well.

He could have said that to her. For a moment he wondered what she would say if he did. But he didn't. Five stayed silent, doing his best to ignore the many questions in his head of why she was standing so close. His fingertips were slowly tracing the wood of the table in front of them.

"Hey, are you okay?" Y/N's gentle voice appeared again.

Why does she always have to ask that? Five thought as he put a distance between them and walked to the middle of the room. He presumed she was just being her usual kind self. Because now his presence probably made her uneasy, right? So despite wanting to be close to her and talk, Five moved away. The last thing he wanted was to scare her away... Even more.

"Fine" he answered in the most emotionless voice.

Why he still has the need to lie to me? Y/N thought as she turned around to look at him once again. Bracing her back on the table and crossing her arms.

"Okay then. Listen, I think we should-" the girl couldn't complete her sentence because the radio cut her off.

'Attention all units, we have a code 3-15 at the Holbrook sanitarium'

At the same time, Elliott entered the room again, a new bowl of cereal in his hands.

"The hell is a code 3-15?" Five's attention was now fully on the radio as he asked Elliott about it.

"Fugitives on the run" the weird man answered as he handed Y/N the bowl of cereal. She took it gratefully, muttering thanks to Elliott as she put a spoonful on her mouth. She was quite hungry.

"Oh, Diego" Five whispered as he braced himself in front of the radio. "Elliott you get started on that film. I'll be back as soon as I can" he said as he was already walking out of the room.

"No no. Wait, Five. I'll go with.." Y/N hurriedly walked after him, almost spilling the cereal on herself "... You" she finished just as she saw a flash of blue. And he was gone again.

The girl groaned, annoyed "I swear, this boy... Is getting on my nerves" her knuckles holding the spoon turned white.

"Is he always like this?" Elliott appeared behind her.

"Yeah, I'm starting to think he is" Y/N sighed. Something was up with Five today, she was going to figure out what it was.

_________

Well, Y/N's position at the moment was... Not ideal. Apparently whatever there was in the film that Five asked Elliott to develop was enough to freak him out to the point where he ended up tying Y/N to the railings that overlooked the bottom floor. She tried to reason with him, but he was pretty insistent. He looked truly scared so she didn't really fight him when he made his way to tie her up, she knew that as soon as Five came back, she would be free again. Poor Elliott had nothing to do with this and was already losing his mind.

And sure enough, not long after, Five arrived with Diego and another woman. Y/N didn't think she would be this happy at seeing Diego, but she was so glad to see that he was okay. And his hair was bigger too, she liked it.

Y/N winced when Elliott's rifle shot the ceiling, Five had easily teleported in front of him making him do so. Diego soon followed and took the weapon out of the man's hands.

Not even a second later, Five was standing in front of Y/N. "Did he hurt you?" His voice was low, only for her to hear. One of his hands came up to lightly touch her cheek. His eyes frantically looked over her entire body in search of injuries, his expression one of pure concern.

"No, I'm okay" Y/N answered him in just a whisper. Her gaze was fixated on him. He was so close, his fingertips lightly brushing her left cheek. Her brows furrowed at his actions as she analyzed his face. What is up with him? In the morning he was so distant and now this?

Only when Five met her eyes that he realized what he was doing. The boy sucked in a harsh breath and suddenly removed his hand from her face. His now slightly shaking hands working on untying Y/N from the railings. Five kicked himself mentally. What was that? He was so worried that Elliott maybe had done something to Y/N that he just... Didn't think. Five would have never invaded her space like that, especially not after last night. But as soon as he saw her, his body seemed to move on his own towards the girl. She was making him lose control and that was not good, he needed to stay focused.

With her hands now free, Y/N rubbed her sore wrists. Her eyes were still landed on Five, and the boy already looked deep in thought. But most of all, Y/N realized that he looked utterly confused. She had no idea why he was acting so strange lately, but now it seemed like he was just as lost as she was.

When Five started to move away from her. Y/N was finally able to grab his hand and stop him. As soon as he felt her soft hand holding his one, he froze.

"Five, wait. I think we should talk"

Five gulped. Everything felt so tender, so real.

"Please don't" his voice was nothing but a whisper. Please don't give me hope that you care. Please don't make me yearn for something that I can't have.

And when Y/N saw the look in his eyes. She let go.

***

Thank you for reading ♥ the next part should be out soon. And if you have any idea about how this story should progress or anything you would like to see in it, please send me an ask or message and I’d be happy to include it. ♥

Taglist

@alexander-hamilhoe @noneyeahbusiness @anapocalypseinmymind @yikes-matey @vicfull @flowertoty @shlokage @flaminghotcheetoos @moneyyhoneyyy @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @nappinggecko @megasimpleplan4ever @precious-parkerr @greeknerd007

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wickedmilo · 3 years

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BITTERLY HUMAN | MILO SOLO

PLACE: An abandoned building near Friction TIMING: 2:11 AM SUMMARY: Milo contemplates Dani’s words, and ends up finding answers he isn’t sure he still wants CONTENT WARNINGS: Brief mention of needles, brief implied drug use (not explicitly mentioned), vomit/vomiting

Milo wasn’t sure how much time he spent on the ground before whatever was holding him down released its grip. Part of him almost enjoyed the inability to move. If he couldn’t move, he didn’t need to think about where he was. And if he didn’t need to think about where he was, he could ignore the voices in his head, the feelings threatening to overwhelm him. But when the pressure disappeared, and his lungs filled with air once again, he tore his gaze away from the stars, shakily pushing himself to his feet. And he decided to do the one thing every instinct in his body was telling him not to; explore. If he didn’t do this now, he might lose this location. He might forget Dani’s words, or how desperate he was to seek out his answers. He should know the area well, but alcohol and drugs always made his memory unreliable, so he started small, picking the glass out of his palms to carefully run them along the brick walls. A vain attempt to trigger any memories he might have, anything lurking in the deepest recesses of his mind.

Dani’s words were still ringing in his ears, and he could still feel the gaze of the man responsible for killing him, even though he must be long gone by now. Seeing his face, looking into his eyes… even being in his presence alone, it was nothing like he had expected it would be. Largely due to realising who he was after he had successfully made his escape. He had been secretly hoping an identity, any form of contact, might help him to accept his fate, or at the very least understand it. But his stomach wouldn’t settle, his entire body was shaking. He didn’t even get the chance to talk to him. Not here. What did that mean? He had more questions than answers, which was utterly infuriating. Continuing to the end of the alleyway, his footsteps unsteady, and hesitant, he took a deep breath as he emerged onto the high street. After being in the dark for so long there were so many sights, smells, and sounds attacking his senses. Each distracting in their own way, each demanding his attention. He forced himself to focus, which wasn’t difficult to do considering his mind only wanted to dwell on what had just taken place. How stupid he had been.

Glancing down towards the direction of club, he was begrudgingly forced to accept it was the most logical place to start, and he began his impulsive journey, his quest to find something more concrete than the information Dani had provided him with. Building by building he paused, carefully analysing the scenery, observing every brick out of place, every scratch, or mark, or unusual scent. The anxiety in his chest was growing in strength with each passing storefront, or boarded up window. Something didn’t feel right, something other than the strange way he had been pulled to the floor by an unseen force. This wasn’t coming from the Weird of White Crest, this was a very natural, and very human feeling of dread. One connected to something he couldn’t quite grasp. It felt like trying to remember a dream, desperately clinging to details even as they faded away. Having long since lost any concept of time, when he eventually reached the club, instead of trying to get back inside, he slipped between it and the abandoned building that stood towering next door. It felt undeniably familiar, but of course it would. Hadn’t he walked this way earlier? Hadn’t he passed this ominous structure in his evening’s mission to get drunk? He so wanted to believe that was it, but ignoring the way his skin was crawling, the way his throat felt tight, the way his vision blurred uncomfortably at the edges, would be counterproductive. He resisted every urge to turn and run, allowing muscle memory to lead him. Following his own footsteps rather than contemplating a possible destination. It was easier to move forward that way.

Until he was close enough to touch the building next to the club, that is. Only then did the feeling return to him. Dirty, and incredibly old, it was all too obvious people used it as a place to get high, to hide away from the prying eyes of bartenders, and club security. Which should probably make him feel at home, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t used to such specific environments. But the sense of dread was only growing, rising steadily in a way that made his lack of a heartbeat painfully obvious. Swallowing his fear, he brushed his fingers against a faded poster that had been pasted to a wooden board. He couldn’t read what it said now, but something about it drew him in. So he moved to the next board covering the next window. And then the next, and then the next, until an entryway became apparent to him. Faltering, he stared at it, and then through the doorway to the darkness beyond it. He was met only with a limited view of exposed brick wall, and concrete flooring. It wasn’t an awfully interesting view, but it was undeniably triggering something inside of him. Hurriedly attempting to light a cigarette, struggling to catch the flame due to how severe his tremors had become, when his lungs filled with smoke, and his mind filled with undecipherable noise, he stumbled over the bottom half of the boards keeping it sealed. The top of them had been torn away, so they only managed to reach his ankles.

He wasn’t entirely sure what he had been expecting. Some life altering flashback, or a spiritual revelation. Maybe a neon sign saying MILO, THIS IS WHERE YOU WERE MURDERED. But there was nothing out of the ordinary. He wasn’t disappointed, or even relieved. He felt absolutely nothing but the sick, twisted sense of something being terribly wrong. Reaching up to brush away a fresh wave of tears, his steps were small, as though if he didn’t commit then taking them wouldn’t feel as terrifying. Tapping ash, he reached the centre of the room. The far wall was aggressively demanding his attention but he couldn’t understand why. There wasn’t anything in here, the entire trip was proving to be pointless. It felt as though the only thing he was achieving was a heightened state of anxiety, and that wasn’t going to benefit him in any way. There were a few needles, a burned spoon, some broken bottles, and empty cans. Nothing should be standing out to him, and yet he had the awful suspicion something horrific had happened here. More specifically, something horrific had happened to him here.

Taking another shaky breath of smoke, his gaze followed an invisible path to a room on his right. Smaller, and darker, further away from the high street than the one he was currently standing in, this room seemed to emanate the overwhelming scent of old blood. It hung thick in the air, only becoming more obvious as he grew closer. He could almost taste it as he crossed the threshold, his tears falling freely even as he fought to maintain his composure. He couldn’t bring himself to step into the centre of the room, not this time, and inched around the outside of it instead, his back firmly against the wall. His chest was heaving as panic violently clawed at him, and when he finally, finally looked down, he was hit by an unexpected barrage of emotion. It was almost too much to feel at once. Fear, anxiety, confusion, desperation, hurt, anger… and a sharp, physical pain in his neck. Choking back a sob, he stared at the source of the scent; a large deep, rust red blood stain. It was crisp, and dry, but still coating the concrete as though whatever had taken place happened days ago, and not months. Only it had been months. He knew it had been months, because as the cigarette fell from his hands, as he dropped to his knees in horror, he realised it wasn’t just blood. It was his blood. It was human, it was painfully, bitterly human, but it belonged to him.

“Fuck…” He breathed, his voice cracking, barely louder than a whisper. He should look away, this wasn’t healthy. The pain in his neck was only growing worse, and he reached up to press a hand against the scars at the base of his throat. “I-” He broke off, not understanding what was happening until it was too late. Bile burned in the back of his throat and he crouched forward in discomfort, unwillingly emptying the contents of his stomach. Blood mixed with alcohol hit the floor, pooling beside the only evidence of his attack, what was left of his death. He really needed to get a grip, he needed to pull himself together. But how? He had seen his killer, had managed to find the place where his heart finally stopped beating. Why didn’t this feel like closure? Why did everything feel so much worse than it had? When he managed to stop retching he scrubbed at his face with the sleeve of his hoodie, collapsing to the ground again for reasons entirely unrelated to gravity. Maybe he just needed time, maybe he would be okay when he had come to terms with what he had seen and suffered over the course of the evening. Maybe Dani would find him, and she could rub his back, and tell him everything was going to be okay. Even in his current state he knew that was a ridiculous thought. But that didn’t mean there weren’t people willing to help him. Not for the first time, he curled up into a ball, ready to spend the night on a cold, bloody, and unforgiving floor. But he wasn’t here to die again. Maybe he was here to prove he could keep on living. Clumsily pulling his phone from his pocket, letting it rest beside his head, he used speed dial to call Evelyn’s number. It rang for a moment, and he listened to the repetitive sound. By the time she answered the call he was halfway through convincing himself to hang up. But when he heard her voice, he knew he had made the right decision, a genuinely good decision. “Hey…” Even he could hear how different he sounded. No doubt Evelyn would realise immediately that something wasn’t right. “You know how you said I could call you if I ever needed someone… I think I… I really need someone.”

#milo solo #milo #vomit tw #drug abuse tw #thank you ci for helping me choose a title

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dreamwritesimagines · 4 years

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Okay, I know this may sound bad but

I CANNOT...ABSOLUTELY CANNOT

STAND MINA OR PETAL'S MOM.

ABSOLUTELY CANNOT STAND THEM.

I find them condescending; I dont like how they are all up in her business in the worst way but make it seem like love...its manipulating.

I know their history makes them over-protecrive but they take it too far and then cover it with words of care and love and then Petal just lets it go. Like the P.I thing? She could have let her mom know that she didnt appreciate how she disregarded her feelings and instruction to throw the folder away (which caused a break up and hearache) - it was completely the moms fault. But she was still expected to go home, to eat with them, to go to things with them (with obligation and NOT willingness - that's not family love).

Mina, I feel, speaks for itself... She just doesnt seem to know when enough is enough. She is emotionally a child and cant seem to understand that her words have consequences (which I would love to see Petal show her what they are, just once). Sometimes you have to give loved ones space so they can heal a bit before running your mouth and causing more damage. (Kinda getting angry here lol).

They hurt her, stomp on her but she still has to do what they want and SHE DOES! (For the most part) but at least they apologize....OH WAIT! THEY DON'T

Sorry about the long rant but I couldnt take it anymore... I cringe every time I see their names or mentions. Ugh.

On a positive note: I love you and I love your writing; I know that it is a part of life to not like some one, even fictional. I am actually loving the story. I hope you can forgive me for my rant...trying to find words to end this on but am so awkward.

I do love you and the story, I hope I didnt cross a line here.......

Oh my goodness, honey you don’t need to apologize at all! I find the way we look at characters and situations/dynamics from different viewpoints very interesting, so it’s quite lovely, you can love some characters, you can hate some characters! ❤❤

This is in no way like an apology or “but this and this” kind of reply btw, I’m just going to explain the way I see the characters and of course we’re all free to disagree, that’s the best thing about fiction!❤ It makes us think and see things differently❤ If you see them in a different way or if you have another approach, please let me know! ❤

So in my mind, when it comes to their family -even if they tend not to talk about it- the dad’s arrest was a huge trauma for each of them, and they all had different reactions to it. Trauma unfortunately changes people, and what they went through -Petal was too young yes, but the mom wasn’t and Mina was a teenager, which means her personality still wasn’t exactly...fixed in a way- basically shifted not only the power dynamics, but the understanding of each other.

So their mother, when the dad was arrested was obviously very shaken, and the way that whole incident resonated on her personality was that....the first thing she felt was possibly guilt, and guilt can alter our whole personality. I’m not a mother obviously, but based on my interactions with my own mother and people who have children, it’s my understanding that the worst feeling in the world for them is not being able to protect their child. So, the way it goes in Petal’s mother’s mind is that their father clearly scarred Petal, that’s for sure but the thing is, she had no idea what was happening and that put Petal in such a danger. Spencer keeps saying that his “profile” doesn’t fit into a killer that would harm his family, but the way her mother sees it, he could’ve killed Petal or Mina, and she wouldn’t even realize what was wrong until it was too late. This is the man who’s the father of her children, the man she put her trust in to protect her children and in doing so, she put them in danger. So in her mind, it goes like 1) survival 2) psychological wellbeing. Of course it’s important, but she feels like she can fix her mental state if Petal “survives” first, so that’s the first priority. That’s why the P.I is a huge part of their lives, and that’s why she’s so... the way she is 😂

Which bring us to Mina, whose teenager years were shaped by the trauma of her father. As multiple people stated in the story, Mina is her mother’s daughter, like a small copy with small traces of her father, and she grew up witnessing how devastating that whole thing was to her mother. Seeing something like that also shifted her view on “protectiveness”, and also, Mina is the oldest daughter right? I think there are certain traits that are very visible in oldest daughters, because she feels like she needs to protect everyone and she somehow feels almost...responsible? She was ready to cover up actual murder for her family, and while she was growing up, as it is very common with a lot of parents, her parents raised her with “You’re Petal’s big sister, you need to protect her”. That’s a huge burden to put on a child or a teenager, and she can’t help but feel guilty that she somehow “failed” Petal by letting her father traumatize her like that.

And lastly we have Petal, whose whole understanding of “family” is....twisted at best. That whole thing with her father happened when she was very young, so she grew up thinking that the people in her family are the only people who she could trust, especially after what happened. She was close with her father, and when they arrested him and found out what he did, it basically pulled the rug from under her, so she clung to the nearest people, which were her family.

I mean is it healthy? God no, it is very unhealthy and very dysfunctional. But the thing is, I feel like a fictional work should be free to show the good and the bad at the same time, we can’t cower away from it if we want to...awaken something in our audience, at least in my opinion😁

That being said, my education also taught me that like 99.9 percent of the time, the reader can analyse the characters much better than the writer, so if you disagree with me, that’s absolutely alright! ❤❤❤ I love exchanging ideas with you! Thank you so much for this, this is a very different viewpoint I will keep in mind ❤❤❤

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ohdearhiddles · 4 years

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SUMMARY: You grew up thinking everything about you was normal, but found that this wasn’t the case. One night, you discover that the normal life you had lived up until then was something of the past because every man you kissed since you turned 16 met a mysterious fate - death. While the world pegs you as a cold-blooded bachelor killer called the “Angel of Death,” you catch the eye of a raven-haired man in an equally black suit.

TITLE: Angel of Death

CHAPTER: 1/?

PAIRING: Loki x Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3501

AUTHOR NOTES/WARNINGS: mentions of death; hello, hello! I came up with this idea really randomly, and I suddenly had an urge to write about Loki... and this happened. It's going to be a very short multi-chapter read - maybe 2 or 3 chapters. I'd put it all on one chapter but it didn't seem right to cram it all in one go. So, here I am with my tiny short story. I hope you guys like it! (AO3 link)

“Last night, another gentleman was found dead in his apartment. Local authorities cannot confirm the cause of death. However, it is believed that this may be connected to a string of mysterious deaths within this very city . Stacy, what do you have to say about your take on this potential serial killer in our midst?” The news anchor spoke loudly, his voice bouncing off of the walls of the small apartment. The television screen panned to a young woman in a lavender blouse, her small hands wrapped around the microphone with her company’s logo displayed on it. She was standing outside of an apartment complex that was bustling with men in dark blue jackets with the letters “FBI” sprawled on the back.

Seemingly unfazed, she spoke, “Sources say that the man was alone at the time of his death, but something tells me that he may have been on a date with our city’s Angel, Frank. There’s no trace of anyone in his apartment and locals are beginning to think he was ‘kissed by Death’s fate’ as they’ve been putting it.”

The news anchor now began to share the screen with the young woman, a joking look on his face even with the current circumstances, “Well, gentlemen out there, watch your backs. We’ve got an Angel of Death loose in our city. Who knows who’ll be next.”

Static filled the screen as the channel changed. You weren’t meant to be watching these kinds of things, not when you already had your suspicions on who the culprit was. Every fear that was within you overflowed, creating an abyss of darkness at your feet. The deceased - the man who was kissed by fate - he was kissed by you.

***

Two years had passed you by since the night all the dots had all connected, forming a big arrow pointed in your direction. It had been two years since you vowed to be alone forever because, no matter what you did, that’s exactly what would happen. If you so much as touched a man with your lips, he dropped dead by the end of the season. You didn’t test this theory, but after you had witnessed a man who had only received a kiss to the cheek being wheeled into the hospital, you didn’t dare try anything else.

An “Angel of Death” they called you. You were described as an angel of misery and destruction, seducing souls with promises of love in order to drag their spirits from their bodies until they were but empty capsules never to move again. It was harsh. The way they described you was harsh, but after you had watched multiple men meet their end, you didn’t see the point in arguing with the description that seemed to be more real than anything else you had tried to come up with.

You were Death in a human’s body. Human. Could you even call yourself that?

The guilt hidden behind every kiss you had administered to others was packed away, pushed into suitcases of repressed emotions that you had readily placed by your door. There was no use in crying over something you hadn’t even thought to be possible until the news proved you wrong. You couldn’t turn yourself in for being a murderer when they would just lock you up and probably run tests on you in order to make some zombie bride war ally. So, you sat. You sat under maple trees, and you sat under stars. You sat and waited for your life to end, waiting for your own Angel of Death to come grab your hand.

***

It was an autumn day. The sky was clear, people were laughing, and your supposed reign of terror on the city was something of the past. Six years had passed since your first kiss of death, and now the news was far too intrigued by aliens invading the city than they were ever intrigued by you. You held a book in your hand as you sat on the park bench, fingers tapping away at the edges as you tried to focus on the words. There was something distracting you. No, not something - someone.

A man sat on the opposite side of you. His hand held an older looking piece of literature, and for the first time in years, you were curious. You were curious about why this man was wearing an all-black suit when the sun was shining so brightly, and you were curious as to what he was reading. Why were his eyebrows furrowed? Was he deep in thought or simply trying to concentrate on the book with all the noise around?

Before you knew it, you were much more interested in analyzing the man than you were in reading your book. You watched as his raven-colored hair glistened in the sunlight, and you wondered if he needed a hat to cool down. His long fingers stroked each page tenderly as he went line by line, and when he was about to turn a page, he would lick the tip of his finger before doing so. The man’s legs were long, slender, and crossed neatly over one another while he sat.

As you watched him intently, you came to an important conclusion: no matter how you looked at him, he was beautiful.

An eternity could have passed you by, and you would have passed peacefully with the amazing view in front of you. But it wasn’t complete without knowing the beauty his eyes might hold. You wanted to see what treasures he hid within them, what secrets you could discover, and right as you thought about it, he looked up.

Your eyes widened as they met his. A small smirk played on the corner of his lips, eyes glistening with an emotion you couldn’t quite make out. Unable to look away, the both of you sat in silence, gazing at the other intently. His eyes analyzed every inch of you, making you feel incredibly self conscious. It was as if he was looking into your soul.

Just like that, though, he was gone. The man stood to his feet, the book in his hand shutting with a subtle clap, and he began walking. His eyes didn’t follow yours nor did he bother looking back, and when he didn’t even smile your way, you hastily gathered your things to go in the opposite direction.

***

You gripped your book tightly in your hand, silently cursing as you walked towards your usually bench. It was a nice day outside, and you were more than happy about being able to finally sit down and enjoy some quiet time, especially with all the children in school at this time. The world wasn’t having it, though, and it apparently wanted you to suffer.

A man sat on your usual bench, arms crossed and facing forwards. The autumn leaves were falling all around him, and part of you begged for your legs to carry you back home. You got closer to the spot and realized that a somewhat familiar face was occupying your space, a familiar man dressed that was dressed in all black.

His eyes met yours like they had days before but there was no reaction this time around. You approached slowly, walking at a pace that seemed more like you were walking down the aisle for a wedding than casually strolling towards an open seat. Your eyes wandered around to the other benches, hoping that there was another one open somewhere nearby. The action proved futile as you witnessed older couples sitting on them, nestling with one another under the golden glow of the morning sun.

There was only one option - sit with him.

You stood before him, almost as if you were a peasant standing before a king. His mere presence felt godlike while yours felt so miniscule. Your grip tightened around the book in your hand, palms sweating from the nerves of confronting this near stranger. His eyes bore into yours and you mentally noted that his eyes were impossibly gorgeous. You couldn’t be quite sure what color they were, but they looked like emeralds in the glare of the sun.

“May I sit here?” You asked politely, pointing to the seat besides him. He didn’t verbally respond, but instead, he gestured to the spot as if he were granting a servant a seat at his table. You felt slightly humiliated yet flustered from the interaction as you sat down.

Silence filled the space between the two of you as soon as you sat down and began reading. There was something in the atmosphere that was saying that you should try to speak to him, but judging by the way he was glaring at every man that walked by the bench, you felt as though speaking to him wasn’t an option. You glanced over from the pages of your book, watching his fingers as they tapped away at his thighs.

“An opportunity,” you thought. He wasn’t holding his book, so maybe he would be open to talking, but as you were about to open your mouth to speak, he beat you to it.

“What is it that you’re reading?” He questioned. For a moment you wondered if he was speaking to you. His voice was like velvet to your ears, and you noted that if his voice were a drink it’d be a smooth bourbon. It’d be masculine yet smooth to the taste, you were so sure of it.

“The Night Shift,” you responded as if it was a title he should have known. His eyebrows furrowed just as they had the other day, and you figured it may have been best to explain further. “It’s by Stephen King.”

“Stephen King.” He spoke, weighing the name of the author on his tongue. “And what is he the king of exactly?”

His question made you laugh, which only earned you a confused glance from the handsome stranger. Stifling your laughter, you raised a hand in apology for the outburst. He nodded in acknowledgment, waiting for you to finish your joyous moment, and for a split second you thought you saw him smile. It wasn’t until you calmed down that you saw that he was, indeed, smiling brilliantly in your direction.

“You smiled,” he spoke again, his eyes wandering to a woman with her child. For a moment, you saw something flash behind them. Sadness, maybe.

The statement made you flinch, the smile disappearing immediately from your face as you felt yourself cowering into the shell you had so readily made for yourself years ago. He turned back to face you, his eyes focusing on yours. Perhaps he wanted to get to know you as you wanted to get to know him, or perhaps he just didn’t have anywhere else to sit when he arrived, but something told you that this encounter may have been fate.

“Whenever you’re here, you seem content,” he continued, eyes still searching yours for an answer to a question he never asked. “But you seem weary all the same. I have never seen you smile.”

He had seen you before; he had just confirmed it. Strangely enough, it didn’t seem as though he had ill intent or obsessive tendencies that just might end with you in a ditch somewhere. No, the raven-haired man seemed sincere.

"It's a pleasant sight," he whispered almost as if you weren't meant to hear it.

You felt yourself smile again, but only a small smile. A sigh escaped your lips, your heart beginning to jump in your chest as you felt a single brick fall from the wall you had painstakingly built around yourself. He smiled, too. And if only for a brief moment, you were glad to have met him.

However, the happiness of encountering “Loki” as he had named himself exactly one week later was quick to deteriorate. Your interactions with the mysterious man continued for days and then weeks. The two of you met for weeks at your bench, bringing new books and stories to share from various parts of your life. The two of you talked for hours underneath the brilliance of the sun’s rays; you talked until the sun itself kissed the horizon, bidding it farewell for the night.

You loved talking to him, and from what you had gathered, he was named after the Norse God of Mischief. He definitely fit the title; in fact, if you weren’t sane for the most part you would have been suspicious that he really was the god who had attempted to take over this very city. You were certain that the real Loki could not possibly be in the city, not with the government still looking for him.

Those thoughts were besides the point, though, especially after the night he was meant to take you out.

At the moment of your slight panic attack, you were flustered over the fact that Loki had requested that you join him for dinner in the evening. For that reason, the two of you did not meet that day even though the sun had shone brightly and there were clouds to admire. Your hands were clawing at your arms as you thought of the endless possibilities in which the night could end, and as much as you wanted to say that a kiss would be the perfect ending, you couldn't let that happen. Even though you repeated the thought that you absolutely did not want to kiss him, your mind rejected it completely simply because you definitely wanted to. Hell, if you didn't have the slight dilemma of causing imminent death after a kiss, you would have done so the moment he told you that he enjoyed your company more than the coworkers he was forced to get on with.

So, it was safe to say that while you had to admit that you were extremely fond of him, it was hard to imagine getting anywhere with a relationship without being able to place your lips on any part of his skin. When you thought thoroughly about it, you decided that you must stop meeting with him once the night was over. If this was a date, or any form of romantic scheme, you could not take part in it. You couldn’t watch another man meet a fate that you had innocently led him to. You would not do that. Not to Loki.

A knock at your door cut through your thoughts like a dagger laced with poison. It was a knock that poisoned your life from that point on, leading you down the abyss you had thought you left behind when you vowed to commit to loneliness. You rushed to find your cell phone that you had just put down seconds before, but as per usual, it was nowhere to be found. The knock sounded again. Huffing, you went to open the door fully expecting to see Loki outside clad in black. The person behind the door was anything but the man you expected; instead, you were faced with a gentleman in a plain suit and a look that told you that he was not there on friendly terms.

“Miss Y/L/N?” He inquired, his chin lifting as he glanced over your shoulder and into the apartment behind you.

“Yes?” You responded, eyes wandering over his outfit, attempting to figure out the nature of his visit. Your attempts proved futile, but that didn’t matter. He was quick to state his business once you had confirmed your identity.

“My name is Detective Francesco, I’m going to need to ask you to come to the station for questions pertaining to a case that has recently opened back up in light of new evidence. Does the name Isaiah Walsh ring a bell to you,” the detective asked, his eyes accusing you of a crime you were only aware you had committed until after the damage was done. You froze in your spot, not sure how to react. Of course, if he hadn't stated his business, you may have thought that he was there to inform you of an accident or a death. This wasn't the case, and those thoughts did not occur to you. Why would they? You were a murderer. Nothing more and nothing less.

Isaiah Walsh - the man who was found dead in his apartment six years ago. A date gone wrong. You simply nodded, not bothering to answer the question in case it would make the detective even more suspicious of you. “Let me grab my things.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

It was clear as the words left his mouth that it was more than just questioning. You were a suspect, not a witness, to the crime he was investigating. As the detective led you down to his car, you noticed a man with raven-colored hair approaching the building with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. The flashing of the police car’s lights illuminated his lean figure as an officer opened the back of his vehicle to you.

Loki’s eyes met yours as he scanned over the scene in front of him. The bouquet fell to the ground, the smirk on his lips vanishing, as he witnessed you sit in the back of the car while a small crowd began to gather at the sight of someone they barely knew getting an all too noticeable escort.

***

You were sitting at a metal table with one of the big mirrors you see on TV. A typical interrogation room from what you could conjure from all the crime show reruns you had indulged in. Your hands folded in your lap as the detective sifted through a file on the table. Part of you wondered why he was taking so long to ask you any questions, but another part of you hoped he never would. Pictures fell from the file as he stood from his seat and your heart dropped to your stomach. It was a pixelated shot of Isaiah with his arm around a young woman at a popular bar just down the road from his apartment. The faces were blurred from the low quality image, but you knew just by seeing the time on the corner along with the date that the woman was you six years ago.

"Look familiar?" Detective Francesco questioned, watching your expression for any significant clue.

You nodded your head, knowing that full cooperation was probably for the best, "I was on a date."

The detective narrowed his eyes, sighing before opening the file again. Within a few seconds, four more security camera shots joined the first on the table. Each one showed the face of a different man with you by their side.

"For months," he began speaking again, "I was wondering why these men were chosen as the Angel's victims, and I couldn't figure it out until one year ago when I realized that the only common factor was you. You were the last person to see any of these men alive: why? Tell me, Miss Y/L/N, do you even remember these men?"

His voice was seething with spite. Your stomach churned and shivers ran down your spine at the look of determination on his face. You glanced down at your wrists, wondering if this was to be the last time you'd see them without steel cuffs on. The detective sat back down, pulling picture after picture from a folder of names you would have rather forgotten; yet, here you were, wearing their deaths as a tattoo on your soul - an imprint of the horrible monster you had somehow turned out to be.

"What about these men?" Detective Francesco pointed out to more photos of gentlemen that you had met at one point in your life. "This one was your high school boyfriend if my sources are correct, and this one," his finger tapped on an all too familiar photo of a face that haunted your dreams, "your own father."

Tears burned at your eyes. Over the years you had accepted many things, but the death of your father was never one. After just one glance at the photo, you found yourself unsure if you had the strength to look the detective in the face anymore.

"I'd like to speak to my lawyer," you mumbled, knowing that this was an uphill fight that you may or may not win. In fact, part of you hoped that you didn't win just so that the demons that crawled into bed with you at night, whispering damning words in your ears and flooding your subconscious with nothing but nightmares, would finally allow you to sleep in peace.

The detective nodded, eyes blazing with a victory he had waited far too long for. There were no fingerprints, no poison, nothing. Just your presence and the men's deaths. Even without substantial evidence against you, this was a start.

"We'll be in touch. You're free to go, but ma'am?"

You met his wicked gaze as you stood from your seat, "Yes?"

"Don't leave the city."

(Chapter 2)

#loki #loki laufeyson #the avengers #loki imagine #loki imagines #loki x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson imagine #loki odinson #ohdearhiddles imagine #ohdearhiddles imagines #mutant!reader #mutant powers

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carriagelamp · 4 years

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September Book Roundup, back-to-school edition aka The Season Of Red apparently?

Here is a selection of the books I’ve read this month. Summer is over, so the little bit of brain power I had managed to scrape together is quickly disintegrating, so enjoying the hodge podge of stories.

Binti

This was probably my favourite book that I read this month. It’s a novella I first heard about hear on tumblr and went to find a copy in my library. I have since bought the collected trilogy so I can read book two and three at my leisure because it was honestly just that friggin cool. This is exactly my flavour of scifi and I tend to be very very picky about the scifi I consume. It’s about a girl named Binti, a member of the Himba people (a real group of indigenous people from Namibia). They are a people well known for their mathematical and technical prowess, but due to their strong connection to their homeland and the earth they choose not to travel through space like so many other humans do. However, when Binti secures a position at Oomza University, the greatest university in the galaxy, she chooses to go against her family’s wishes and traditions in order to set out into space to attend. Everything is ruined though when her spaceship is attacked by a hostile alien race and everyone is killed but Binti, who must rely on all her intellect and abilities if she wants any chance at survival.

A seriously cool book with great world building – it really successfully introduces readers not only to the fictional scifi world and races of the novel but also to the culture and traditions of the Himba people. It’s a quick read, and feels like a cross between Dead Space and Tamora Pierce. Would totally recommend a read.

Fake Blood

A Canadian graphic novel. It was a goofy cute read. It’s about an awkward group of friends in middle school, and one boy with a crush on one of the girls in his class. Knowing her love for vampire stories, AJ decides, like any self-respecting middle schooler, to try to pretend he’s a vampire. Naturally nothing goes right and some things go wrong in unexpected ways. It’s funny and cute. Nothing amazing but it was a cozy evening read.

The Last Book On The Left

I’ve been listening to this podcast a lot since my friend recommended it to me and finally decided to read their book. For those that don’t know, The Last Podcast On The Left is a immaculately researched comedy podcast that’s hosted by Ben Kissel, Marcus Parks, and Henry Zebrowski, and explores the darker realms of human nature. Ghosts, paranormal, aliens, cults, and of course serial killers. In this book they collected several of their biggest name serial killer series, did some renewed research, and put together a book that is both informative, irreverent, gross, and very funny, complete with some really amazing illustrations by Tom Neely. A very cool read (and listen, if you decide to check out the podcast instead), I really love how they tell these stories without idolizing or romanticizing the people they talk about. Their humour always makes sure you know exactly how much of a pathetic loser these people are. Fantastic true crime, from someone who has never really felt the need to read about true crime before.

Midnight Sun

I won’t harp on this one, everyone is already going to firmly have their opinions here. I grew up on Twilight, I was reading them as they came out, and I still love them. Were they dumb? Oh my god yes. Did they have problems? Sure, they came out in 2005 it was part and parcel. Were they also a really fun for a thirteen year old to read? Absolutely, I don’t regret it. Sometimes teenage girls should just to get like things without being mocked.

Anyway, I am off my soapbox now (can you tell this is still a raw spot for me?) I unironically loved this book! Getting to see Edward’s perspective was really cool, and since he can read minds it essentially let you get the perspective of everyone else around him too. The Cullens family is a great set of characters so it was really cool to see more of them, and I was very impressed by how Stephenie Meyers took a YA romance she wrote in 2005 and was able to make it feel updated and more appropriate for a 2020 audience even though she couldn’t actually change any of the events themselves. So fans of Twilight, don’t be ashamed, go read Midnight Sun and have the shameless fun you deserve. Is there anymore appropriate book for the bizarre ass year that was 2020 than a return to this goofy nonsense?

The Paperbag Princess

(and Up, Up, Down, and Robert Munsch in general)

I’m back in schools so I’m back to reading children’s book! And honestly, and of you that don’t occasionally sit down and read a kids book out loud don’t know what you’re missing. Anyway, Robert Munsch is a Canadian author, and one of my all-time favourite children’s authors. It surprised me to learn he isn’t as well known in the States apparently? I don’t know if that’s changed or not, but he is a Canadian staple for a good reason, his books have ridiculous premises, are specifically written to be fun to read out loud, and have beautiful, involved, and hilarious illustrations. The Paperbag Princess is one of my absolute favourites, and as a kid it was one of the first stories I had ever read where a princess is the one saving the prince… and then telling the prince to piss off when it turns out he’s a jerk. Up, Up, Down is another favourite I reread this month, because it’s just hilarious funny and makes a fantastic read aloud with kids. Some other Robert Munsch I reread this month include: Mmm, Cookies, More Pies, Ribbon Rescue, Just One Goal, and Andrew’s Loose Tooth. You just cannot go wrong, for kids or adults.

Pit Pony

Another Canadian staple while I was growing up. If you’re a young adult know who went through the Canadian elementary school system, you probably had your entire heart ripped out and stepped on by this chapter book. It’s a historical fiction that looks at the economic hardship, debt slavery, child labour, and animal abuse that was tied to coal mining in the Maritimes. Finding a copy was harder than I would have expected give how pervasive it was a decade or so back, but reading it again was a pure shot of nostalgia.

Seeking Refuge

A graphic novel written by a German-born Canadian about a Jewish girl who flees Nazi-occupied Austria by way of Kindertransport to become a child refuge in England. It follows her as she is moved from host family to host family as the war continues to pick up and gradually makes it’s way to the United Kingdom as well. It’s very poignant and the pencil-sketch illustrations are an interesting change to a lot of the graphic novels that are out right now. This story is still aimed at a younger audience, so it never gets too brutal but it still is a hard hitting story, especially with everything else going on right now.

Silver Spoon #9/10

I know I’ve talked about these books before, but my library got some more since I last read them, so I’m continuing my way through the series. It’s about a teenaged boy who, after having a breakdown from the pressure he was feeling to study and succeeded, decided not to attend an academic, urban high school, but rather to apply for an agricultural high school so he could live in the dorms, far away from his parents. The series just gets more and more heartwarming as it continues. It’s all about failure and overcoming and how worth can be measured in different ways, and about family and understanding each other and coming together… but also about the realities of farming which aren’t always very nice, especially when it comes to finances and survival. It’s written by the mangaka behind Fullmetal Alchemist but I’ll be honest… I think I like this series more. It is honestly one of my all time favourite manga series, it just has so much heart.

Ruby Finds A Worry

aka Ruby’s Worry apparently? I can’t figure out why this has more than one title. I actually read it in French not English, so for me it was Le Souci de Calie. Regardless, this was a nice little picture book for talking about worries and anxieties with children… especially with the amount of Covid stress a lot of kids are dealing with. It explains in a really nice way how talking about anxieties are often the best way to make them more manageable, and how pretending nothing is wrong can just let it grow bigger and bigger. A good explanation for kids and possible a good reminder for adults.

War of the Realms: Journey Into Mystery

I read this because the Mcelroy family wrote it so I figured Hey! Why not give it a go! And I’m glad I did. Their brand of humour was all over it, and it made the story a delight to read. I don’t follow all of Marvel’s weirdness, so I didn’t actually know most of the characters (Miles and Kate were actually the only two I was familiar with) but they do a great job of introducing the characters and making them all feel distinct and interesting. I absolutely adore the Dog of Gods (God of Dogs) who is a very very good boy. And Miles is absolutely always a delight so you can’t really lose. It’s a single book that I think is a part of a larger plotline that I have zero interest in. This book is a fine one to read though if you don’t mind jumping into the middle of the action and just getting swept along for the ride. Also Mcelroys!

Witcher Omnibus

Bleh. Absolutely not worth it. All the misogyny and Dumb Bullshit that I hate in the original books and from video games in general. Honestly, Witcher III did way better by its characters than most of these short stories. The only one worth reading in it is Curse Of Crows – that one was actually really enjoyable, probably because it was about Ciri and had an actual fucking woman on the writing team. (Seriously guys what were you thinking with Fox Children that’s literally just a story from Season of Storms but done worse. Fuck off.) If you like The Witcher, go read Curse of Crows and skip every other story in this book.

Billy Stuart: Les Zintrépides #1

Another French (Quebecois) book I read, though I believe you can get it in English as well (Billy Stuart and the Zintrepids). It’s a chapter book / graphic novel hybrid, and was honestly a fairly fun little read. It’s in a similar vein to Geronimo Stilton but done much better in my opinion. The humour was funnier, the characters felt less like caricatures, and while it still used stylized fonts it was also less intrusive and eye-strainy than the Stilton books. Also when the story suddenly pivots into the main adventure and mystery of the series? Fantastic. Was not expecting a hell-beast to appear part way through the story. Very interested in reading more.

Over all, it was cute and funny, and I can see it being a good next step when children have read their fill of the Stilton series and want something similar but possibly a bit more involved and coherent.

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d-l-dare · 4 years

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“A Killer Story”

The streetlight over my head flickered, not enough for it to block my vision for a few moments, yet just enough to be noticeable. I looked up at it for a moment from the park bench I was seated at before turning my gaze back to the road. I was awaiting a bus for to take me back home. I deeply regretted what I'd done and needed to make some sort of a getaway. I figured what could be more inconspicuous than a simple bus ride. I'd even left my car behind to seem less suspicious of any wrong doing.

You might be wondering what it is I could've done that was so monstrously horrible. Let me take you back to the beginning.

***

I had been researching serial killers for a while now. Finding out the way they grew up having an affect on how or why they killed was always one of the most interesting parts. I loved seeing the images that came from the aftermath of the deaths and their long lists of victims and how they were able to get away with it for so long. The interesting way they got rid of the bodies that tore apart any kind of connection anyone could have to them was one of my favorite parts.

My favorite killers of all time was actually one I'd been following around for a while. You see, there's been a bunch of seemingly unrelated murders happening around town. Ones that left the victims heads decapitated. Nobody has been able to uncover the heads, yet the killer would leave behind a tooth from the head in the victims hand to help them identify the body.

How did I know those exclusive details? I have a friend on the inside. I met him at a bar, us both finding a common interest in killers. We've been talking and hanging out frequently, leaving us to share information regarding the murders he's bore witness to. I would in turn hold conversations talking about some interesting serial killers I'd recently uncovered while doing research online. One of my favorites was one who would somehow put something in the victims clothes that their dogs would smell before pouncing and eating them alive. They caught the guy snooping around one of his ex-girlfriends' house.

I didn't want to tell my friend, but I believe I've found the serial killer. With all my years of researching into the subject, I finally put it to use and tracked down a certain amount of people that it could possibly be based on behavioral patterns and crossed each person off after following them home each night for nearly a week. Most of them caught on to me after a few days, yet others seemed like they didn't care much.

There was one person who drew my suspicion the most after following them, because they would take many cautious looks around before creeping into their storage shed outside their house for several hours.

I figured tonight would be the perfect night to confront him. I made my way to his front door and knocked. They door was pulled open but nobody to greet me. Then a hand came from the darkness within the house, followed by a sharp pain to my throat. An a moment I was pressed against a wall with a knife to my throat, face to face with this beautiful man of a serial killer. "Why have you been following me?" he demanded.

My only reply to him was a smile before telling him I was a big fan. I told him I research serial killers all the time and he was one of my favorites. He pressed the knife further into my skin. "How do you know it's me?" I replied with "I know my stuff."

He let me go, I dropped to the floor clutching my throat. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now." He said with the knife pointed at me. I shrugged before telling him that I'm a serial killer as well.

He must've had some kind of idea because he cut my throat and carried me off to his shed. In some of my last moments of life, I saw what was inside, all the evidence he needed to pin it on whoever was inside. He stole my wallet and put his in my coat before running off. Not too long after, the police arrived to get rid of my dead body. I hadn't had time to tell him I was planning to become a serial killer. My first murder weapon, however, was yet to be in use.

#horror #horror story #short horror story #writing challenge #scary story #frightnight

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bellemorte180 · 4 years

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Just Good Business: Chapter One

Caroline Salvatore, married into one of New York's most brutal crime families.

Niklaus Mikaelson, a notorious mob boss who is hell bent on taking down the Salvatore brothers.

It's an affair for the ages.

Based on my drabble under the same name.

@itsnotacrimetoloveyou, this is for you

WARNING: There are depictions of graphic violence, sex, suicidal thoughts and domestic abuse. This is not a light and fluffy story.

Chapter One

Caroline looked around the ballroom, seeing the elegance and glamour that lingered from the chandleries to the champagne that flowed in their flutes. New York’s richest gathered in order to flaunt their wealth, make shady deals and cover up their crimes. The party was nothing more than various alibis for a series of crimes that were bound to happen in the early hours of the morning. She used to love these parties, but that was before she realized what these people were capable of. What she was capable of.

She picked up her own glass and drank the champagne but the taste seemed lacking to her; much like everything else in her life. To the world at large, she lived in a big mansion with a rich husband and connections that reached farther than the average person. What Caroline saw was a gilded cage and a pillow made of silk, suffocating the life out of her.

She was Caroline Salvatore; Upper East Side Socialite married to one of the richest men in the city. Friends from the richest of families that cared little for her. A life everyone dreamed about.

As she downed the rest of her drink, allowing the alcohol to fog up her senses, she saw a hand outstretch to her. She looked over and saw her husband, Stefan Salvatore. He was handsome, she supposed but then again, she found nothing redeemable about him. He cared little for her and she cried as she walked down the aisle to him. The moment their names were etched onto the marriage certificate, he locked her away in a glamorous hell that Caroline had no means of escaping. He would kill her first if she even dared tried.

“Dance with me.” Stefan demanded. Caroline placed her glass down on the table and linked her hand with his. He led her to the dance-floor. He took her into his arms and spun her around, pretending to be the devoted husband he promised her mother he would be. “You’re not smiling. We cannot have our friends thinking our marriage is in trouble.”

“Friends? You don’t have friends.” Caroline replied and Stefan’s grip grew tighter. She knew that if he didn’t let go of her soon, his fingers would leave bruise marks on her skin. It wouldn’t be the first time and there were times that Caroline wished he would cross that line; kill her and be done with it.

“Enemies then.” Stefan retorted and it took everything in Caroline not to roll her eyes at him. “We are surrounded by people who given the right opportunity, would love to strike us down. Now, I need my wife to be happy. If you’re not smiling, laughing and being the social butterfly, I was promised when we married last year, our enemies will know that this is nothing more than a sham.”

And it was. Their marriage was nothing more than a business transaction that neither of them wanted. However, her mother needed some of her less than savory dealings covered up in order to stay Chief of Police and the Salvatore brothers were more than willing to oblige…. for a price. They wanted an in with the police and who better than the Chief? Caroline was nothing more than a bargaining chip; a life long hostage handed over for safe keeping to ensure that Elizabeth Forbes stayed in line.

“No. We wouldn’t want that.” Caroline forced a smile on her face. Stefan laughed and she could see that twinkle in his eye that he used moments before he killed. The Ripper. Untouchable. Uncontrollable. A man who thrived on the kill; and that man spun her around as though she was nothing more than a rag doll. “Better?”

“Perfect.” His voice was harsh and cold but Caroline had grown us to that by now. It was the only tone he ever used with her. “Now. I have a business meeting tonight. I won’t be home till late. Don’t wait up.”

Stefan leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips before leaving her on the dance-floor. Seconds after his eyes were off of her, Caroline felt her mask fall. She saw a waiter walk by and she grabbed another glass of champagne. She weaved her way through the crowed. Passing ‘friends’ along the way such as Aurora de Martel or Haley Marshall; two-woman Stefan approved of because neither one asked to many questions. She saw Elena and Damon, dancing, drinking and laughing. They seemed perfect together but Caroline knew more. Damon was calculating and willing to do whatever it took to protect what was his. Elena was his; but there was something false behind Elena’s smiles. She was selfish in a way that made Caroline’s head spin. Their marriage was as much as a sham as Caroline’s. The terrifying part was that Damon did not realize it.

Not wanting to see the sight of them, she made her way through and unopened door. She wondered down the hall of the Four Season until she reached a utility door with the bright red words of exit’ hanging above the door. On a whim, Caroline pushed the door open and entered the stairway. She went up and up until she couldn’t anymore. She tried the door at the very top and to her surprise it was unlocked. It was the rooftop.

Caroline took in the view of the city. Even in darkest places of her mind, she could not help but admit that New York was beautiful. There was a life to it that was vibrant and pulsing. Especially at night when the city lights illuminated the buildings and the people. Caroline drained her glass and tossed it to the side, hearing the glass shatter on the ground. She kicked off her heels, allowing her feet to touch the concrete and walked toward the edge. She looked down the fifty-two stories.

Stefan and Damon wanted to paint a picture of the perfect life for the world to see. Both brothers happily married to beautiful women. Caroline wondered what the world would think if they found Caroline’s body on the ground after jumping those fifty-two stories. It would be instantaneous; hitting the ground. It would be better than suffering the life she had now. It would also show the world that maybe something was not right with the Salvatore brothers.

Caroline, carefully, eased her way up onto the ledge and looked down. It was high up and she could feel the wind of the cool February air. She was cold but she did not care. Her gown was a held up by thin white straps. Her bodice made of white lace while her deep navy skirt with a slit up the side. She looked beautiful and for a moment she wondered if her corpse would be gorgeous once it hit the ground. She didn’t care. If it put a notch in taking down Stefan, then her death would be worth something.

“Are you sure you want to do that Sweetheart?” A voice sounded from behind her. She turned to look over her shoulder and saw a handsome man standing behind her. He was in a tux, much like the rest of the men at the party. Stefan always spent a large amount of time on his hair but this man allowed his blonde locks loose. He was looking at her with curiosity; a look that alarmed Caroline slightly.

She knew exactly who he was.

Klaus Mikaelson. Head of the Mikaelson crime family and possibly the most dangerous man in this city. She had seen him from afar and heard Damon curse him enough times to know that he was no friend to either Stefan or Damon.

“What does it matter to you?”

“A beautiful woman like yourself contemplating taking her life?” Klaus walked up to the edge and leaned against it. “I think that matters to me greatly.”

“Why? Would you rather push me yourself?”

“I could.” Caroline tensed. He would do it to. He would push her and turn around, not thinking twice. If Caroline was going to die, she wanted it to be on her terms. She refused to be a pawn in this feud any longer. “If you really want me to. If you believe that your life has no meaning. I thought about it myself once or twice over the years, truth be told. But I’ll let you in on a little secret, there is a whole world out there waiting for you. Great cities and art and music and genuine beauty. And you can have it all. All you have to do is ask.”

“Ask what?” Caroline bit back. The life he painted was one she once craved. She wanted to have the world at her fingertips, not locked away; a doll only brought out to be paraded around before being tossed aside. The fire in her tone caused Klaus to smile, dimples appearing on his cheeks that made him look far more handsome than before. He held out his hand to her.

“Dance with me.” Caroline looked at his outstretched hand and much like she had done earlier in the evening with Stefan, she placed her hand into his; Klaus helped her off the ledge. He pulled her into his arms and despite the fact that there was no music. His touch was gentle and calming. Caroline felt more at home in his arms than she did of the man she married.

“Do you know who I am?” She whispered.

“You’re Caroline Salvatore, formally Forbes. The wife of Stefan Salvatore. Married just over a year and what a happy marriage it must be if it has you up here contemplating taking your own life.”

“Instead I’m dancing on a roof top with his biggest rival.” Caroline whispered. “Why?”

“So, you have heard of me.” His smile grew wide as though he was proud at the fact that she knew he was a killer, drug lord, king pin or some other name given to those who run and operate a crime family. She knew that he had fingers in all sorts of business; such as that his brother was high up in the FBI and that his reach stretched far beyond New York. He was everything Damon wanted to be and everything he wasn’t. “I followed you up here because I think you and I have a mutual interest.”

“Oh really? And what is that?”

“We both want the Salvatore brother’s dead.” Caroline froze in his arms and her eyes shot up to his. “Come now Sweetheart. We both know it is true. You never wanted to be married to him and are looking for a way out. I’m offering you one. It may not be as instantaneous as jumping from a ledge but the outcome will be far sweeter.” Klaus stepped away and brought her hand to his lips. “Thank on it, love and I’ll see you soon.”

With that, Klaus dropped her hand and headed toward the stairway that lead back down to the party. Caroline watched after him, feeling a slight crack in her prison walls as he went. She looked over to the ledge again, debating. She turned away, bent down and slipped on her shoes. Klaus saw Caroline rejoin the party and a look passed between them; a mutual understanding.

In the wee hours of the morning, Caroline laid in bed thinking about Klaus’s offer. She wanted out of this marriage and divorce was not an option. Her mind turned with the possibility but Caroline just did not know if it was worth the risk. If she betrayed them, she was dead; her mother would be dead and the little Caroline cared for would crumble. Then there was that part of her brain that couldn’t but start the stirrings of desire. A desire to be free.

Before she was able to ponder her fate longer, she heard the bedroom door open. She sat up in bed to see Stefan looking at her. She reached over and turned on the bedside lamp. The light shined and Caroline had to withhold her scream. From head to toe, Stefan was covered in blood. He cocked his head to the side and she could see the mania behind his eyes.

“Come.” Caroline followed his instructions and pulled herself out of the bed. She walked over to him and once she reached him, Stefan placed his hands on her hips; spinning her around. He inhaled the scent of her hair before he tailed a string of kisses down her neck; and Caroline let him. She laid willing for him, as she had always done before. This time was different.

Stefan never fucked her while wearing his victims’ blood before.

In the morning, Caroline cleaned herself the best she could. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she could still feel Stefan’s hands on her and him inside of her, reliving his blood-lust. It made her stomach turn and she needed to get out of the house. She grabbed her bag and coat but when she opened the bedroom door, Stefan stood on the other side of it.

“Where are you going?” Stefan asked in his typical bored voice. In truth, he could care less what she did as long as she stayed in line. As long as she continued to be controllable.

“I don’t know. Shopping maybe. I just need to get out of the house.” Caroline replied. Stefan looked down at her as though he was searching for something; waiting for her to do something. After a moment, he nodded his head and let her pass.

“Take Enzo with you.” With that, Stefan entered their bedroom and closed the door behind him. Enzo. Her ever present bodyguard. In truth, Caroline did not mind Enzo. He was funny and genially tried to make her smile. He let slip once that he didn’t like how Stefan treated her; having found her crying one to many times or cleaned her up when Stefan got too rough. The catch was, he was on Damon’s payroll and betraying his employer was a one-way ticket to an early grave.

Caroline searched out Enzo, telling him she needed to get out of the house and that he was to accompany her. As she climbed into the back of the car, she saw Damon and Elena’s car pull into the drive. She wondered what they were doing there so early but Caroline did not care. She needed to put some distance between herself and Stefan.

“Where to Gorgeous?”

“Anywhere. I don’t care.” Enzo nodded and pulled out of the drive and into calm street of their New York suburb. He drove into the city and Caroline was so lost in her own thoughts that she did not notice that they were in a bad part of town. Enzo pulled into a back alleyway and it wasn’t until the car stopped that Caroline paused. “Where are we?” “You’ll see.” Enzo got out of the car and opened her door, holding out his hand to help her.

“Did Stefan order you to kill me?”

“Even if he did, I wouldn’t.” Enzo smiled at her and she believed him. If anything, he would warn her and let her fake her death. She almost wished Stefan ordered a hit on her and Enzo has her hit man. Caroline looked up to the old abandoned warehouse and rolled her eyes. Enzo led her to a door and opened it. “I promise you; no harm will come to you inside. I won’t let it.”

Caroline nodded and she stepped forward. It was dark inside but there were a few florescent lights that hung from the ceiling, casting enough light to create more shadows. She walked forward, listening to her heels hit the concrete flooring. Enzo walked beside her, seemingly completely at ease. Once the reached a bit further into the warehouse, a man moved out from behind a pillar.

“Klaus.” Caroline whispered.

“Thank you, Enzo, for informing me that Caroline would have a moment alone.” Klaus spoke to other man and Caroline’s eyes traveled between the two of them. She could not fathom what was happening. Enzo worked for her husband and brother-in-law but if he was having dealings with Klaus…

“What?”

“Damon and Stefan are not the only ones who pay me Gorgeous.” Enzo drawled out. He tilted his head towards Klaus. “I work for Klaus.”

“I hired Enzo specifically to infiltrate the Salvatore home. He has been my man for years and when he fed me some interesting information on the state of your marriage, it made me wonder if perhaps, you and I could come to an agreement.” Klaus replied. “I was honest with you last night Sweetheart. We want the same thing.”

“I don’t want to be a pawn in anyone’s game.” Caroline hissed out. She glared at Enzo, not believing what he was bringing into her life. He was risking his life by spying on Stefan and Damon. There was something more in it for him than money. Enzo was not foolish enough to be a double agent without leverage. She could easily turn in him and he would be dead before sunrise. She wouldn’t but the fact that she could was present in the back of her mind. “Not even yours.”

“I know.” Klaus signed. He reached inside his coat jacket and pulled out a small manila envelope. He gave her a pitying look and she could not see the reason behind it. “After the gala last night. Where did your husband go?”

“I don’t know.” Caroline replied, the memory of Stefan covered in blood focused in her mind again. Klaus gave her a sad smile and walked over to her. He handed her the envelope and with hesitant hands, she took it from him. Inside were a series of pictures; pictures of her mother. The scene was bloody and horrifying. Elizabeth Forbes’s head was completely detached from her body and blood was spattered across the room. She knew what that meant. She knew his signature. The memory of Stefan inside her mere hours earlier flashed before her. The blood he wore while he fucked her was her mother’s. “I’m going to be sick.”

She dropped the pictures and ran over to a pillar. She dry-heaved and coughed up the bile that formed in her throat. A hand came up from behind her and pulled the hair from her face. It wasn’t Enzo. The smell of the cologne was different. She turned her head slightly and saw Klaus staring at her. He wore a sympathetic look upon his feathers that Caroline wondered was genuine.

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart.”

“Why? Why did he do this?”

“From what I know, your mother went back on a deal she had with the Salvatore’s. She stepped out of the line they drew for her.” Klaus replied and Caroline closed her eyes. Her mother made her bed and now Caroline was going to face the consequences. She looked at the pictures lying on the ground, knowing that the memory of them would live with her forever. “Stefan went to her last night to…. settle things. I was not made aware of her death until after it happened.”

“And what do you want from me?”

“The same thing I said to you on that rooftop.”

“Bullshit.” Caroline hissed out and Klaus eyed her. He could see the fire behind her ice blue eyes. Enzo reported a lifeless woman who was trapped in a cage, needing to find a way out. He certainly saw her desperation when she stood on that ledge but there was more to Caroline than he realized. She had a quick mind behind that beautiful face and a fire that burned under her skin. She was far stronger than anyone gave her credit for. Klaus quickly found himself wanting to know more.

“Now, now. I’ve killed people for less than the way you just spoke to me.” Caroline’s gaze did not waiver. He could kill her right now and she honestly did not care in that moment. The one person she still cared for was dead. The fact that she did not fear death intrigued him. He had killed many people and they all begged; but it appeared that Caroline would not be one of them. That earned his respect. “My brother Kol was murdered six months ago.”

“I know.” Caroline replied. Stefan and Damon threw a party at his death; a crack in the Mikaelson family, something very hard to do. While they did not murder Kol directly, Damon hired Jeremy Gilbert to do it for them. It was a job they did not trust just anyone to carry out such an important task. No. They hired Elena’s hitman of a brother to do it instead. “The celebration they threw lasted days. I thought it was cruel.”

There was a flash in Klaus’s eyes; something fierce. She could see the monster lingering beneath his beautiful face but she could see that his rage was not directed at her. She knew what a monster looked like who hated her. She slept in his bed every night.

“I want them dead. They took my brother so I plan to take everything from them. Slowly.” Klaus gave Caroline a sinister smile. “I’ve already started. A few financial deals here. A side business there. Damon isn’t as smart as he thinks he is.”

“And where do I play into this?”

“Information.”

“I don’t know anything. As you know, Stefan and I are not on the best of terms.”

“You know more than you think. Much like Enzo, you would filter information to me when you learn it. Your job would be to observe in the only way a wife can and in return, I’ll help you get out of this marriage you despise.” Caroline looked at him and she knew she was contemplating it. “Not now. Think on it. Let me know when you’ve made a decision. But think on this Sweetheart. Wouldn’t you want to revenge on the man who murdered your mother?”

“We should go.” Enzo replied and Caroline nodded. She gave Klaus a look, searching him. She could see that this was far more personal than he was saying. This went far beyond Kol’s death. Klaus was going to rain blood down on this city and one way or another, Caroline was going to be caught in the middle of it.

“Think on it Sweetheart, but know this. While you husband was murdering your mother last night; I was committing a murder of my own.” Caroline shot him a confused look but allowed Enzo to usher her outside and into the car. As she sat in the back of the car, her mind raced.

Her mother was dead. Murdered. Tears fell down her cheeks as her grief took her over. She didn’t hear Enzo’s soothing words from the driver’s seat or see the scenery passing by. Before she realized it, they had pulled into the drive of the home she shared with Stefan; but Caroline could not move. She just continued to cry. When she was able to calm her self down, Enzo opened the door.

The scene Caroline walked into could only be described as chaos. Elena was wailing on the ground, Damon holding her close to his chest. Stefan was looking at the scene in completely fury. Caroline wondered what Stefan would give to be in Damon’s place. By the number of times Stefan whispered Elena’s name in her ear after sex, it did not take a genius to figure out that Stefan was in love with his brother’s wife.

Caroline spotted a series of photos scattered across the floor. She walked slowly over to one and Klaus’s voice rang loud and clear in her ear. While you husband was murdering your mother last night; I was committing a murder of my own. The pictures showed a mutilated body, hanging spread eagle on a giant plank in the shape of a ‘x’.

Jeremy Gilbert was dead. A giant ‘M’ carved into his chest.

She felt Stefan’s presence behind her. She turned to look at him. He saw her bloodshot eyes and her reddened face. He studied her and as always, Caroline wondered what he found when he seemingly peered into, he soul.

“You know. About Elizabeth?”

“Yes. I just heard.”

“It was unavoidable.” With no sympathy, Stefan turned from her and walked over to Elena. She was still screaming in agony, clutching at her brown hair. Damon was whispering to her. The look of compassion he gave Elena caused Caroline’s fury to increase. “This was all Klaus Mikaelson. I promise you we will take him down for this. I will hand you his head on a silver platter.”

Within the next several days, Caroline buried her mother. Elizabeth Forbes had been the Chief of Police and the manner of her death caused a media stir. Caroline found no peace and her funeral was very public. The wake that was held at her home with Stefan felt more like a media circus than a goodbye to her mother. Stefan stayed by her side the entire time, playing the loving husband the entire time. He told the concerned onlookers what a tragedy had befallen their family. He touched the small of her back or held her hand. Each touch made Caroline’s skin burn in anger.

She wanted to claw Stefan’s eyes out from his head. She wanted to hurt him in the worst way possible. Her grief was turning into anger and Caroline found that she was able to hang onto that. She plotted but kept her mask in place. She knew she needed to strike at Stefan and the only way possible to do that would be to do one thing that would hurt him the most; it was a plan that Caroline clung to.

The only relief she found was that Elena couldn’t publicly mourn Jeremy. Jeremy Gilbert was a known fugitive and as far as New York knew, he was still on the run and the siblings were on bad terms. Jeremy was the bad apple while Elena the saint. So, Elena was forced to pretend that her brother was alive but his whereabouts unknown while watching Caroline publicly mourn her loss.

Caroline received all the sympathy.

Caroline was the one who had ability to have a funeral.

Caroline was smiled upon as though she was the center of the universe for a short while.

It was petty but Caroline enjoyed watching Elena’s anger at the fact that she couldn’t show her grief for her brother. It also was tempting to smile when an arrangement of flowers, rubbing salt into Elena’s wound.

I’m sorry for your losses. K. M.

In that moment, Caroline made her decision. She knew what her answer was. Once the last person from the wake left her house and Stefan was able to drop the act of being the worried husband, Caroline could not stand looking at any of them for another second.

“I need to go.” She reached for her purse, not carrying that she was still in the tight black dress and stilettos. She looked the part of a wealthy woman of the Upper East Side who was in mourning. She looked the part and could care less if it was bad timing. She should change at the very least; shed the mourning clothes from her body. Instead she grabbed her thick black coat and slipped it on.

“Go where?” Stefan asked.

“I don’t know. I just need to think.”

“You’re staying.”

“Let her go Stefan.” Elena’s voice chimed in. Her tone had a dead ring to it. It wasn’t that Elena was looking at her cruelly, but just in annoyance. Elena and Caroline’s relationship had always been complicated. Neither one would call it friendship, although to the outside world Elena claimed to be Caroline’s best friend. They smiled and laughed together when the cameras were on them but pulled apart the moment they turned away. “She just lost her mom. She is grieving.”

“Take Enzo with you.” Stefan commanded, never being able to deny Elena anything. Enzo, who was standing in earshot appeared quickly and followed Caroline out of the house. She was moving like a bat out of hell and just needed to get away from that house. She slid into the back of the car, calming her breath as best as she could.

“Where to?”

“You know where.” Enzo nodded and drove. He drove for a good while, ensuring that they were not being followed. Damon and Stefan were distracted so it was unlikely they would put anyone else on their trail but Enzo was a professional. He was always precise so he pulled into a parking garage. They got out of the car and Enzo led Caroline to a second vehicle. This was a big SUV, different from the town cars Stefan and Damon preferred to use. More importantly; it wasn’t tracked.

Enzo drove her across town to a tall building. Much like before, he pulled into a parking garage but this time they did not switch cars. He led her to an elevator and pulled out his phone. He punched in a code that had been sent to him and the elevator lifted upward. Once at the top, the doors opened and Caroline realized where she was.

Klaus’s office.

Klaus was standing on the other side perched on the side of his desk. He was unsurprised to see her but then again, she saw Enzo texting on an unfamiliar phone. Klaus was expecting her and Caroline just strolled into his office; never removing her eyes from him.

The office was massive. Windows on one wall that stood from floor to ceiling, providing Klaus with an amazing view of the city. Caroline looked around and saw priceless works of art on the walls. The furniture was expensive and Caroline could not help but applaud the man’s taste. This was where Klaus played with people’s lives; who lived and who died. A shell company much like Stefan and Damon’s, only far older and far more powerful.

“Leave us Enzo.” Caroline commanded. Enzo looked between Klaus and Caroline, unsure if he should leave her alone. Klaus however, nodded to the other man and waited for Enzo to head back down the elevator. Klaus pushed away from the desk and walked over to a bar cart. He poured two tumblers of bourbon and handed her one. Caroline took a few sips before turning back to Klaus, who had been silent but watched her like a hawk. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

“You want to strike at Damon for ordering the hit on your brother.” She took another sip. “Because we both know it was Damon who ordered it, it’s why you’re keener on him than anyone else.”

“Damon flaunted that he was the one who hired the Gilbert boy to murder my brother. Yes.” His eyes lingered over her and she could see the desire pooling in his eyes. He found her fascinating. The entire city had eyes on Caroline since the news of Elizabeth’s murder rang through the streets. An investigation was formed but would go nowhere; they both knew that. The mystery of her death would remain unsolved. Along with the rest of the city, Klaus was watching her; gazing at the woman who could put on the best act of them all.

“And sending him Jeremy Gilbert’s body as a message had the desire effect. I can assure you that.” Klaus cocked his eyebrow at her. She knew that he was aware that using Jeremy would send the desired message to Damon. A message stating that Klaus was coming for him but the truth was far darker than Klaus realized and Caroline was going to spell it out for him. “But I don’t think you realize just how far you went in sending that message.”

“Then tell me.”

“After we met that morning at the warehouse, I went home. I was grieving over my dead mother and when I walked into my front door, I found Elena in my sitting room, wailing as though her heart was being ripped from her chest. Damon was playing the good husband and comforting her.” Caroline rolled her eyes and Klaus’s lips perked up at her annoyance. “Stefan saw it immediately. He knew that I was aware of my mother’s death. He told me it was ‘unavoidable’.”

“Go on.”

“He showed me no remorse or sympathy. He came home that night and fucked me while he still had my mother’s blood on his skin.” Klaus’s eyebrows shot up at that but said nothing. Caroline could not help but notice how his grey-blue eyes grew a hint darker. “He simply walked away from me and then bent down to comfort Elena. He promised to hand your head to her on a silver platter.”

“Interesting.” She could see the calculation behind Klaus’s eyes. What Klaus wanted from her was an understanding on what went on behind closed doors in the Salvatore home. There was only so much Enzo could give him from a business standpoint but Klaus wanted more. He wanted the most personal information on the brothers in order to strike where it hurt the hardest. “And why would Stefan be more concerned with Elena’s pain than his wife’s.”

“Because he is in love with her.” Caroline replied in a matter of fact tone. Klaus stood straighter at that and she could see the million possibilities running through his mind. This he had not known. “The key to destroying all that the Salvatore brother’s hold dear is Elena. You have both of them gunning for your head because you made her cry.”

“Well that is interesting. Perhaps I should just have her killed?”

“You could but that isn’t smart and you know it.”

“Do I?” Klaus asked, testing her; seeing how her beautiful mind worked.

“Kill Elena and all you will have is two very pissed off Salvatore brothers on your hand. They will band together in their grief and strike at you and hard. Nothing is as powerful as the feeling of revenge. Kill Elena and Damon and Stefan will become your worst nightmare.” Klaus was smiling widely at her, a hint of pride etched in his eyes. “But you knew that.”

“Then what is our plan?” Klaus asked. He was testing her, seeing how her mind worked. Typically, Caroline hated being toyed with; she got enough of that at home. However, she wanted to prove to someone that she was more than just a pretty face.

“Turn brother against brother. Use Elena.” Caroline paused. “I don’t know how yet but Elena is the key in doing so. Both love her and both want her. I don’t know if Stefan and Elena are sleeping together but I’ll find out.”

“Then we have a deal.” Klaus stepped towards her and peered down at her. He took the glass from her hand and drank the remanding amber liquid. He was gazing at her and Caroline would not look away. The woman who wanted to jump from that roof top still lingered but he saw the truth behind why she wanted to jump. It wasn’t just a death wish, she wanted to strike at Stefan and Damon in the only way she could. “And what is it that you want in return for this information, Sweetheart.”

Caroline reached up and placed her hands on his chest. She eased out a few crinkles in his crisp white shirt. She could feel his muscles behind his shirt tense at the feeling of her fingertips caress him. She peaked at him from behind her eyelashes.

“Stefan hates you with a passion right now. Cursing your name every time he looks at Elena’s sad eyes. There is a fire burning in him to see you dead.” Klaus seemed amused at that. “What I want is petty and selfish and wrong on so many levels.”

“Say it.”

“I want to go to sleep every night knowing that I’ve fucked the one man who my husband hates most in the world.” There was a crackle between them that fizzled and popped. Both understood what this was. Caroline wanted in his bed for the soul purpose of being able to look at Stefan, knowing that she fucked the one man he wanted dead. It was a sort of petty revenge she needed in order to strike back from her mother’s murder and at the moment, this was the best possible way to do that.

For Klaus, it was one in the same. What was the best leverage over a man than bedding his wife? Sure, Stefan could care less for Caroline but she was his. His toy and his property. He wouldn’t take kindly to knowing that Klaus had been inside his wife; touched his wife and even less if she enjoyed it. Klaus would ensure that she did…she would feel every inch of it, cry out his name. Then when Stefan bedded his wife, she would close her eyes and imagine that it was Klaus touching her.

“You’re playing with fire, love.”

“I don’t care.” Fire burned in Klaus’s eyes and the dam broke. He leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to Caroline’s lips. Caroline knew that this could end badly for her. Either Stefan could find out she betrayed him and kill her or Klaus betrayed her and she would meet the same end with different means. That didn’t faze her. It wasn’t enough for her to give up the fact that she would have this moment.

Caroline dug her nails into his chest, dragging them down his shirt. She pulled the shirt from his trousers and ripped it open; buttons scattering across the hardwood floor. Klaus tossed it aside and pulled his undershirt over his head. Caroline’s lips latched onto his bare skin, tasting him. Her teeth nipped at his nipple while his hands moved the zipper at the back of her dress. He pulled it down and Caroline felt her dress sage on her shoulders. She pushed the dress down and let it pool at her feet.

Klaus eyed her with anticipation. She was a beautiful woman and he would have wanted to fuck her either way. Her being Stefan’s wife was just the cherry on top a very delectable cake. Her bra and panties were a simple black but matched with her black pump and the sight sent blood rushing to his penis. She shot him a coy look, she knew that he was finding her desirable and having lacked that look from a man in so long, it was addicting.

Caroline reached behind her and unhooked her bra, allowing it to fall to the floor. Klaus, unable to help himself, palmed her breasts; his nails gracing over her erect nipple. Caroline hissed at the contact, causing Klaus to do it again.

“Heels stay on.” Klaus commanded and Caroline chuckled. She reached for his belt, slowly undoing it but Klaus stopped her. “Not this time love. Perhaps another time.”

“Cocky much? Who says this is not just a one-time thing?” Caroline teased him, her fingers running along the skin just underneath his trousers. Instead of answering her, Klaus lifted her up; causing Caroline to squeak in surprise. She wrapped her legs around his waist, arching her back and pressing her breasts against his naked chest. Klaus’s lips latched onto her and kissed her while he walked them towards his desk. He knocked the files and pictures onto the ground, neither caring about the sound of shattering glass.

“Because once I’m done with you Sweetheart, you’ll come back begging for more.” He sat her down on the desk and kissed his way down her neck. His teeth nipped and sucked at her chest and Caroline spread her legs, allowing him easier access to her body. She leaned back on her forearms and watched as his head dipped lower and lower. “Tell me, when was the last time you enjoyed sex?”

“It’s been awhile.” Klaus’s eyes peaked up at her, and cocked his eyebrow. “Stefan is not very kind in the bedroom…in more ways than one.” Klaus chuckled and Caroline could feel the vibrations against her skin. They both knew what she was not saying. Caroline hated Stefan and sleeping with him was torture. There was no arousal or pleasure in the act but she had no choice.

“And here he is, a bigger fool than I realized.” Klaus grabbed her leg and outstretched it. His lips kissed her ankle as he admired her long, toned legs and the stiletto attached to them. Klaus apparently was a leg man. His hands ran down the length of them until he reached the edges of her panties. He hooked his fingers into the crotch, gracing her clit as he went. Caroline whimpered at the slight brush and her reaction pleased him; making him brush against it a second time just to make her squirm. He pulled her panties down her legs and took them into his hand; bringing them to his nose. He inhaled her scent while his eyes devoured the sight of her naked and spread across his desk. He pocked her panties and knelt before her. “Let’s make up for lost time, shall we.”

His fingers traced the length of her slit, spreading her juices. Caroline cried out at the contact. He slipped one finger into her and then another. He pumped them in and out of her before bringing his lips to her clit. His tongue licked the length of her before he began circling her bundle of nerves.

“God! Klaus!” Caroline cried out his name, not caring who heard. No one saw her enter his office. For all his staff knew outside his office door was that Klaus was having sex with someone behind it but the who remained a mystery. She assumed that they were paid well enough not to care. She continued to watch him lick and suck her while she felt that tension build up inside her. It had been a long while since she felt any sort of relief and it snapped inside of her like glass breaking against a wall. It shattered her. She screamed and cried out illegible things that she couldn’t remember when she came to.

“Seeing you come undone…you’re beautiful.” Klaus whispered and stood up from in-between her legs. Caroline sat up and reached for his belt. Like she attempted to do before, she pulled the offending leather from Klaus’s pants loops; putting it out with a snap. She tossed the belt to the floor and unbuttoned his pants, shoving them down to his ankles. “Condom?”

“Birth control.” Caroline replied, gripping Klaus in her hand. He hissed at the contact. She began to stroke him, watching as his jaw clenched tightly. His hands gripped her hips roughly and there was a brief second, she wondered if his hands would leave a bruise. “Gentle now. Can’t leave marks, now can we?” Klaus’s hands loosed and she cupped his balls as a reward, massaging them lightly. “Stefan does not want kids so, can’t risk pregnancy. So, I get a shot in my arm every three months, so unless you have some disease that I need to be worried about? Because I’m clean. Trust me. I’ve checked.”

“Clean bill of health Sweetheart.”

“Then get inside me.” Caroline lined his penis up with her entrance and Klaus pushed inside. The feeling of him stretching her and filling her was incredible. He was bigger than Stefan so there were muscles that were stretched that she was not used to. Klaus wrapped his arms around her, pressing her to him. Slowly, he withdrew before pushing back in. The first few strokes where leisurely but as their rhythm began to build, his thrusts picked up. “Faster. Harder”

The desk under them creaked and groaned. The slapping of skin could be heard as Klaus pounded into her. Caroline’s nails dug down his back, leaving marks that that they both knew would take a few days to fade. She could feel herself building towards her peak again and Klaus could sense that she was the verge of another orgasm. He reached between them and rubbed her clit. Her walls clenched and Caroline was pushed off that cliff again. A few more pumps and Klaus followed suit.

Once their breathing calmed down, Klaus slipped out of her and Caroline whimpered at the loss. She sat there for a second and watched as Klaus bent down and pulled his trousers up his legs. Caroline held out her hand and Klaus just cocked an eyebrow at her in question.

“My panties.”

“Oh, no Sweetheart. I’m keeping those.”

“Seriously!” Caroline huffed in mock frustration causing him to chuckle. He looked her over, apprising her still naked body; seemingly way too proud for her liking. She rolled her eyes and stood from the desk. “Fine. Pull the alpha man act.”

Klaus all but doubled over in laughter as she picked up her bra, putting it on before stepping back into her black dress. She turned her back to him and pointed at the dress. Klaus stepped forward and zipped up the dress, his fingers gracing her back as he went. Despite what they had just done, the touch sent shivers down Caroline’s spine. Klaus leaned down and she felt his hot breath on her ear.

“There is no act, love. I am the alpha male.” Caroline turned to look at him and made a point to roll her eyes again. He was amused; his smile was wide and his eyes sparkled with mischief. He was content and there was something about him made Caroline want to please him again. She wanted to fuck him in order to get back at Stefan and now she realized she wanted to do it again for the sole purpose that he felt good.

Klaus pulled away from her and went to pick up his cell phone, stepping over glass that had shattered from a few of his picture frames that had been on his desk. Caroline spotted a mirror on the far wall near his office. Her hair was a mess. She scowled and pulled it from her bun. She ran her fingers through it and deciding to let it hang loose. She watched Klaus send a text message before walking over to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close as they listened to the sound of the elevator rising again.

“Until next time, Sweetheart.” Klaus kissed the side of her neck before pulling away; just in time for the elevator to ding and Enzo to step out. Enzo halted slightly, taking in the sight of the office. He was intelligent enough not to say anything but seeing the contents of Klaus’s desk on the floor and the smell of sex hanging in the hair; not the mention the fact that Klaus was shirtless, he knew exactly what had occurred.

Caroline just tossed him a cheek grin before heading to the elevator, swaying her hips ever so slightly as she went; knowing full well that Klaus was watching her. Enzo followed her inside and the moment the door closed on them; he just turned his head to look at her with a worried expression on his face.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game Gorgeous.”

“And you’re not?” Caroline retorted. Enzo just shrugged.

“I didn’t just fuck the devil.”

“Oh, shut up.” Caroline bit out. “Why are you doing this? Playing both sides, I mean? If Damon or Stefan learned that you were feeding information to Klaus or even that you brought me to see if, twice. They’d kill you. And don’t feed me some line about the money being good. I’m too smart for that.”

“It amazes me that neither Stefan nor Damon realize how smart you actually are.” Enzo muttered but refused to say more and Caroline was not going to push him. She just wanted to make a point. They walked across the parking garage and she climbed into the SUV. It wasn’t until they were sitting in traffic and Caroline was scrolling through her phone that Enzo spoke again. “Her name is Bonnie.”

“What?”

“My girl. Bonnie. She has a rare genetic disease. I couldn’t afford to get her the treatment she needs.” Caroline wilted ever so slightly. She did not know much about Enzo or the fact that he had a life apart from bloodshed and deception. “Klaus has connections. Vast connections. I provide him with whatever he needs and he ensures that Bonnie gets everything she needs to manage her condition. So yeah. It is not about the money.”

Caroline had nothing say. It made sense to her why Enzo did what he did but what amazed her was Klaus. She knew that he wasn’t providing, what Caroline assumed to be expensive medical care, out of the goodness of his heart. She could not begin to imagine what Enzo has done for Klaus to receive that kind of payment.

A second later, Caroline’s phone buzzed revealing an unknown number.

Thank you for today Sweetheart.

Caroline smiled but quickly deleted the message.

#klaroline fanfiction #klaus x caroline #fanfiction #klaus mikaelson #caroline forbes

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annaraebananawriter · 4 years

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(Part One) Cold Truths

Yellow again everyone! I am back yet again with another oneshot. In fact, this oneshot will have around three to four parts. I think. That’s the plan anyways, but it might change. Who knows.

And I want to say this now, this is meant to be seen as platonic, however you can think of it as a ship, if you want. This is also my first time wring FGOD Error. If you don’t know who that is, then I suggest checking it out!

Fandom: Undertale, but specifically Dreamtale and Errortale

Characters: Dream and Nightmare (Who both belong to Joku), Error (Who belongs to CQ)

Pairings: None really, but you can read it as such

Warnings: Implied/Referenced panic attack/flashback, and I think that’s it? Let me know!

Word Count: 2649

~oOo~

Someone was crying.

Error blinked, closing the portal behind him.

He stood there for a moment, mildly surprised by this. He says mildly because he always figured someone would find out about his reoccurring visits to Outertale without it being destroyed. It was only a matter of time.

Hopefully, it wasn’t any of the ‘light’/’Good’ Sanses. He doesn’t think he could handle another run-in with them so soon after a battle. Especially if that battle had ended up…well, let’s just say no one got out of it without injury. Even him, and he had all these glitched stats that made it impossible for him to die. Though, he could still feel pain.

He was getting sidetracked.

Where was he…ah, yes! So, hopefully, the crying wasn’t a trick from his enemies. He doubts it was, but he could never be too careful.

Although, there was a possibility that it was Blue, who was his dear friend. He smiled despite himself. Blue had been his friend for a few years now, ever since he kidnapped the Sans and told him about the balance. From then on, the other saw through the creator’s lies and basically acted as a spy for Error and the ‘Bad’ Sanses.

The smile widened slightly at the thought of Nightmare and the others. He could still remember the first time they met…

~oOo~

He stumbled blindly through whatever AU he had ended up in.

Error signs had overtaken his vision, leaving him defenseless. He was glitching quite frantically, too. Pieces of him breaking off and slamming back into place, only to unsettle another piece opposite of it, repeating the process over and over.

It hurt. It hurt so much. But he was used to it. This happened to him all of the time, so how could he not be? Even if the pain was amplified by the injuries leftover from his latest fight with Ink. The creator did know how to throw some mean attacks, he’ll give him that.

“Stupid squid…” Error grumbled to himself, voice glitching so much that he could barely make out his own words, tripping and just managing to catch himself with a tree, which he leaned on after. He growled, frustrated with himself. “Stupid soulless bastard…” He closed his eyes, not that it made a difference, and leaned his head against the bark of the tree, breathing for a moment.

“My, my…you don’t look good at all…”

However, when a smooth voice spoke from right in front of him, his eyes snapped open. He flinched and squinted from the sudden light. His eyes had cleared up.

Well…at least he could see again.

Once his eyes were somewhat adjusted, he glared at the person in front of him. He then blinked, half in shock and half in curiosity. The person in front of him was covered in a sort of…black…goo…thing. He didn’t know what it was. Despite the sludge on him, the other was surprisingly calm, gazing at him with a piercing cyan eye (the other was covered with the sludge) that almost seemed to both glow and look deep into his soul. There was also a hint of…concern in his gaze.

Error couldn’t place a reason about why. He was the Destroyer. No one was supposed to care about him, as much as he wanted that to happen. He was just a filthy glitch. He was—

None of that mattered right now. Well, it did, but it wasn’t the most important thing. That was knowing who this newcomer was and why he radiated a powerful aura, which he only now realized. He straightened so he wasn’t leaning on the tree anymore.

“Who are you?” He croaked out, voice back to the normal amount of glitches.

The other blinked, tipping his head forward. Error got the feeling that he was surveying him, sizing him up. He tensed, prepared to fight if need be. The other seemed to notice this and frowned further. A cold feeling, like if someone dumped ice down his shirt, overcame him and he froze. The other was CHECKing him.

He watched warily as the other’s eye grew in surprise. Then, Error grew surprised when the others surprised faded to…concern and…anger? At Error? No, for Error. Interesting. No one reacted like that before. Then again, no one even checked him before so…

He could never be sure of anything. This was all new.

The other seemed to come to a decision and walked a few steps toward Error before stopping when Error tensed, his hand coming to rest by his cheek, ready to draw his strings to fight. “I’m Nightmare,” the other spoke, finally revealing who he was.

Error narrowed his eyes.

Nightmare noticed and held his hands up in a surrendering position. “Relax. I’m not here to fight you. In fact,” he smiled, “I want to help you.”

~oOo~

Error had been rightfully surprised. No one wanted to help him. No one was supposed to.

After some explaining on both ends, and getting to know each other a little, Nightmare asked Error to come with him. To come to his home and stay there. Hesitantly, Error had agreed. It was the best decision he ever made. He got to know Horror, Killer, Dust and Cross, who had become good friends of him.

Now, they all saw each other as a family. A family who protected each other.

No matter what.

Coming back to himself, Error shook his head. None of this was important now.

Now, he had to focus on finding who was crying.

Yes, it could still be a trap. Yes, he could get hurt, even if it wasn’t. But he couldn’t ignore it. Just because he destroyed things, does not mean he didn’t have morals. He had feelings. And besides…the crying reminded him too much of himself.

He shook his head again, scolding himself. Focus, Error, he thought to himself, Focus.

He followed the crying to near the edge of the rock they were on. Any further, and you would fall from existence. You would fall into the Void. This was, in his opinion, the best place to view the stars. It was so clear and pretty. It was so peaceful, too. He loved coming here and relaxing, making some more of his dolls.

But that’s not what he was here for.

The crying was coming from behind a boulder a few steps away. Whoever it was, it seemed they were quite sad, or whatever emotion they were feeling, they were surely feeling it strongly. Error watched the boulder for a few seconds before walking around it, to the source of the crying.

He blinked in surprise.

Dream was there.

The positive guardian was curled up into a ball, hands held over his ears with his head bowed low. His chest was heaving rapidly, almost like he was just on the edge of hyperventilating, but he wasn’t quite there yet. He sobbed, tears running down his face as fast as his chest moved. It was like…it was almost like he was trying to block out someone who was saying something mean.

Suddenly, Error felt a great deal of sympathy for the guardian. He knew how it felt, trying to block something out that only you could hear. He himself did it all the time. Usually, no one helped him.

He won’t let Dream suffer the same. Even if the other was his enemy. Even if he had a sinking feeling that this wasn’t the first time this happened.

He knelt down next to the other. Hesitating slightly (he briefly wondered where Nightmare was. He should have felt all this negativity.), he reached out and placed a hand on Dream’s shoulder. He flinched at the contact, glitches wreaking havoc on his arm in his dislike. But he pushed through it, ignored it.

“Dream?” Error said, watching as Dream didn’t react to his hand. He frowned. He was worried now. “Dream? Can you hear me?”

All he got was a sob in return.

He sighed, settling down. He knew he would be here for a while, but that was fine. He didn’t really have anything he was going to do anyway.

~oOo~

Error wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there, rubbing Dream’s arm in hopes that that was enough, before the other finally broke out of his…trance? Flashback?

Whatever it was, he perked up once he felt the other shift. He retreated his hand just in case, but stayed where he was sitting. He wanted to make sure the other would be alright before he left. So, he had to wait for Dream to get his bearing and notice him.

(He might be attacked, but he was willing to risk it.)

Anxious, but hiding that with a calm attitude, he watched as Dream took a few shaky breaths. The guardian blinked a couple of times, his eyes focusing more on his surroundings. Then, he stiffened. He didn’t look in Error’s direction, not yet, but the destroyer could tell that he knew he was there.

Neither of them said anything for a while. Error figured that Dream was expecting to be ridiculed or attacked, much like he did. But he wasn’t going to do that, so he just shifted into a more comfortable position and looked at the stars. They were as beautiful as ever.

He waited.

After a few more minutes—probably even longer but he had no way to track the time, so oh well—Dream shifted as well. Error suddenly felt like he was being stared at, being judged. He forced himself to ignore it, however.

“…what are you doing?” Dream finally said. His voice was a bit rough and small.

“Watching the stars.” Error replied. It wasn’t the answer Dream was looking for, he knew that, but it was the truth.

“What are doing here? Now?” Was that annoyance Error heard?

He turned to look Dream in the eye. The guardian flinched slightly, wound up like a cat ready to run, and Error felt the slightest bit of guilt. “I told you. Watching the stars.” He continued before Dream could get even more annoyed. “And making sure you’re okay.”

Dream blinked. It seems he had expected something far worse.

Error laughed inwardly, finding a bit of amusement in the guardian’s reaction. He decided to explain anyway. “I came out here to relax, originally. Then, I heard someone crying, which worried me.”

“Worried you?” Dream sounded like he couldn’t believe what he had been told.

Error felt a bit annoyed. He rolled his eyes. “Yes, worried.” He shook his head. “Is that really so hard to believe? I followed the sound to you.” He gave Dream a searching look. “It looked like, to me, that you were having a flashback, or panic attack.”

Dream looked away and Error, somehow, knew that he was right.

A flashback or panic attack.

Hm…

Those weren’t two words that he thought of when he heard the title ‘guardian of positivity’.

Error sighed and continued, looking at Dream even if he wasn’t being looked at in return. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Dream was silent. He didn’t look back at Error, who only sighed again, diverting his attention back to the stars as he waited again.

“…why?”

Error blinked and looked back to Dream. The guardian hadn’t moved his gaze from the rock in front of him. “Why what?”

Dream huffed. “Just…” He waved his arms around, gesturing to nothing in particular. “Why?”

Error tilted his head. He was confused. Did he mean why he stayed to see if he was okay? “I wanted to make sure you were okay because I was worried. I—”

“No!” Dream interrupted him, snapping his gaze over to meet Error’s confused one. “I mean, well, yes, thank you, but…” He sighed in frustration. “I didn’t mean that. I meant…why do you destroy?”

Error blinked. Once. Twice. His confusion intensified. What did that have to do with the current events? Why he was here with Dream in the first place? He raised a brow at Dream. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Dream sighed and gained a pleading tone in his voice. “Just tell me, please.”

Error gave him a last searching look. He didn’t find what he was looking for. He didn’t even know what he was looking for in the first place. “I destroy because of the balance. If I don’t destroy, the AU’s will start to crash into each other, which will cause the Multiverse to collapse.”

Dream nodded slowly. “The balance…” He repeated. There wasn’t any confusion or disbelief in his voice, which cause Error to become confused.

“Yes.” Error was very confused and beginning to get a bit mad. “Did you know this already?” If he did, then why didn’t he speak up? Why didn’t he see the suffering and put an end to it? Was he just that selfish?

Error shook his head. No, he shouldn’t jump to conclusions like that. There must be a reason for this. A good reason, not a bad one.

“The balance…” Dream mumbled. He didn’t seem to have heard Error at all. As he continued, he seemed to be in pain, like something was stopping him from knowing this stuff. “There are…f-four…main balances…in the multiverse.”

“Yes.” Error confirmed, leaning forward. “Did you know this already, Dream?”

“I-hng!” Dream doubled over, suddenly grasping at his left forearm, like it was causing him pain.

Error’s eyes widen and he sat up a little, now on his knees. He shifted towards Dream, hovering over the guardian, but not touching him. “Dream! Are you okay?”

Dream breathed hard for a few minutes. He then let go of his arm slowly, though his hand was shaking quite bad. He shook his head and leaned back up, which made Error move away a tad. Dream’s gaze met Error’s and Error frowned in concern. Dream’s eyes were clouded with pain and confusion.

Dream swallowed and cleared his throat. “I-I knew that.”

Error blinked. “Knew what?”

“About…about the balances.” Dream frowned at himself, like he couldn’t believe himself. “I knew that. But I also didn’t.”

Now Error was confused. “What?”

“I know I knew about the balances, but I don’t…I don’t remember knowing about them. But I…” Dream frowned even further and screwed his eyes shut. “I swear I knew about them. Why did I forget?”

Error also frowned, thinking over what was just said to him. “I don’t know.”

They sat there for a minute, trying to find an answer.

They didn’t have enough pieces, though, so it was hard.

Eventually, Dream groaned in frustration and stood up, prompting Error to do the same. Dream met Error’s eyes and smiled weakly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put this on you.”

Error frowned. “It’s no problem. I’m happy to help, if you’ll let me.”

Dream laughed. “Of course, sure. I think I’ll need it.” He took a deep breath, turned and opened a portal. He stared at the golden circle before turning back to Error. “What are doing today?”

Error blinked and tilted his head. “Blues made us some tacos, so probably just eating those and chatting with Nightmare. Why?”

Dream nodded his head. Something had flashed across his face at the mention of his brother, but it was gone too fast for Error to pin down. “Okay. I just wanted to know.” He smiled at Error. “Hope you have fun.”

Something warm entered Error’s chest and he smiled back. “I will. Thanks.”

Dream laughed again and waved him off before disappearing through his portal. Error watched the empty space before him for a few seconds before sighing, looking to the stars one last time before entering a portal of his own. It was time for tacos.

He ignored the uneasy feeling in his chest that told him something bad was going to happen.

#my writing #my fanfiction #oneshot #part one #dreamtale #errortale #dream sans #nightmare sans #error sans #fgod error sans #tw panic attack #tw flashback

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spicybisous · 4 years

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Gemini Murderers: The Tyneside Strangler, Mary Bell

Trigger Warning: This post contains themes of child sexual abuse, murder, sexual solicitation, and child abduction. Caution is advised.

The Tyneside Strangler

Mary (nicknamed “May”) was born Mary Flora Bell on May 26th 1957 to Betty Bell (nee Elizabeth McCrickett)). Betty was just seventeen years old when she gave birth to Mary. It was unknown who Mary’s true biological father was, though she spent most of her life believing that her mother’s boyfriend (and later husband) Billy Bell. Billy was a habitual criminal who was eventually apprehended by police and charged with armed robbery.

Mary’s Home Life

Mary’s mother, Betty, was born in Gateshead in 1939, and was often described as very depressive and erratic. She became a prostitute in her early teens, and would frequently spend days or weeks away from home in Glasgow working. She was just seventeen years old when she gave birth to Mary, and due in part to Betty’s young age and her occupation, Betty made it excruciatingly clear that she did not want her baby. Just moments after Mary’s birth, Betty ordered doctors and orderlies to “take that thing away from me.”

Though Betty would be gone for weeks at a time at work, she would often attempt to give Mary away to friends and family, who all urged her to keep her baby and take responsibility for her. In fact, during the first few years of Mary’s life, it is said that Betty made multiple attempts to kill her daughter, making it look accidental,of course. Family members grew suspicious after Mary fell from a second-story window, and again when she mistakenly consumed sleeping pills; on one notable occasion, one witness could recall Betty giving her daughter sleeping pills “like candy.” After the fall, Mary’s medical evaluation showed that she had suffered brain damage in her prefrontal cortex, the area associated with decision-making and voluntary movements. Mary later reported that she fell victim to repeated sexual abuse. She stated that from the age of four, Betty would force her to engage in sexual acts with men, presumably, for money.

Mary was said to have displayed a number of dysfunctional behavior from a very early age, as observed by her teachers and peers. They would go on to recall how she would become extremely aggressive when upset by another child; her head would begin shaking violently, and she would frequently grab her peers by their throats. There were also complaints of Mary burning another student with a lit cigarette. Her aggressive behavior caused her to become isolated at school, as the other students grew fearful of her. On the rare occasion that someone confronted Mary regarding her actions, she spoke candidly and with little emotion.

Norma Jean Bell (1955-1989)

Norma Jean Bell (not related to Mary) was Mary’s nextdoor neighbor. All though Norma was two years older than Mary, intellectually, she was years behind her peers; because of this, she was said to have been very agreeable and easily influenced by others.

The slums of Scotswood were slowly being demolished in attempts to regenerate the area. Mary and Norma spent much of their time playing on a partially demolished street scattered with various derelict homes known as “Rat Alley.”

ATTACKED: Pauline

On May 12th, 1968, a local woman filed a complaint with the police, raising allegations that Mary had attempted to strangle her daughter, Pauline. Pauline described the incident, stating that Norma had pinned her to the ground while Mary grabbed her by the throat. Mary then began shoving sand into Pauline’s mouth. Eventually, Norma loosened her grip in Pauline, allowing her to get free and run back home. Unfortunately, the police failed to investigate the incident further.

MURDERED: Martin Brown (1964-1968)

On May 25th, four year old Martin was seen playing in the same neighborhood that Pauline was attacked in with his friends. Martin’s mother was alerted around 5:00pm that evening, claiming that Martin had seemingly been in an accident. When Martin’s mother arrived at Rat Alley, a group of neighbors stood outside as a man carried Martin’s lifeless body from one of the abandoned homes. He was pronounced dead on arrival at Newcastle hospital that night.

Though police were called to investigate Martin’s death, they were unable to draw a clear conclusion as to what had actually happened.

Nursery Break-In May 27th, 1968

On May 27th, just two days after Martin’s sudden and mysterious death, the Scotswood police were called to investigate a break-in at a local nursery. The police recovered three pieces of paper with the phrases “We murder. Watch out.” “I murder so that I may come back,” “We did murder Martin Brown” scibbled on them. Once again, the police dismissed the incident as a sick joke. The same day, Mary attended school and wrote the following excerpt in her daily journal:

“There were a crowd of people at an old house. I asked what was the matter. There has been a boy who just lay down and died.”

Near the bottom of her writing, she drew a picture of Martin with a bottle next to him, labelled with the word “tablet.” She also drew an emergency responder discovering the body. Again, this was brushed off.

MURDERED: Brian Howe (1965-1968)

A few months later, on July 31st, three year old Brian Howe accompanied some of the neighborhood kids in watching a few homes be demolished in Rat Alley. It is suggested that during this time, Mary and Norma had abducted Brian and took him to a nearby patch of uninhabited wasteland. Mary and Norma were the last two individuals to see Brian alive.

The Scotswood police received a call that night; they were asked to respond to a patch of wasteland, where they discovered the deceased body of Brian Howe. This time, it was very obvious to the police that the boy had been murdered.

Brian’s arms and legs were sprawled out from his half naked body. Pieces of his hair had been cut, and there were many unusual puncture wounds on his legs. It was later confirmed that these wounds were inflicted after Brian’s death, and Brian’s murderer had also mutilated his penis. The police immediately came to the conclusion that Brian’s murderer was young and a postmortem exam concluded that Brian’s cause of death was strangulation, and that the wounds on his legs were a poor attempt to leave initials on his body.

During the investigation, police were able to link Martin Brown’s death to Brian Howe, after realizing the striking similarities, and it was at this point that the police released an official statement that they were actively searching for a child-aged killer. They began interviewing people within the Rat Alley community, noticing that Mary would almost always appear and show great interest in the investigation. Additionally, she went around her school playground bragging about how she had strangled a boy. Many of Mary’s peers felt that she had some connection to the two boys’ murders, and finally, school administrators began noticing how strage Norma and Mary had been acting. Running with the neighborhood’s tips, the police requested to speak with Mary about her possible involvement in the murders, but were threatened by Billy Bell, her assumed father, instead.

At this point, the police were at a loss as to how to proceed with their investigation. Unable to interview Mary, they were unsure what other avenues they could take to bring justice for Brian and Martin. Mary was going to get away with it. It wasn’t until an alleged witness came forward, stating that they had seen the entirety of Brian’s murder. A nine year old boy from the nieghborhood claims he saw Mary and Norma murder and abuse three year old Brian Howe. Though the witness was nine, he suffered from a cognitive disability, which resulted in his mental maturity and functionality being somewhere closer to about four years of age. The boy explained to police how Mary had offered to massage Brian’s neck, convincing him that he had a sore throat which she was going to make better. Eventually, her grip grew tighter and tighter until Brian was dead.

Dr. Monica Rowbotham Child Psychologist

Both Mary and Norma were then questioned by police. Due to their young age, the police interviewed the girls alongside a child psychologist; Dr. Monica Rowbotham. Dr. Rowbotham explained that Mary seemed to be very high-strung and anxiety ridden, but also very tough and self assured.

David Bryson Mary Bell’s Lawyer

Mary’s lawyer, David Bryson, expressed that his client maintained her innocence in the incidents. It was said that Mary was distracted, asking for her mother and where her dog was. Both Mary and Norma were taken into legal custody that night. Because of Mary’s impeccable manners and inability to clearly understand the severity of the situation, police pitied her. Though she repeatedly denied any involvement in the murders, the evidence began stacking up against her.

Police had previously recovered a pair of scissors from the scene of Brian’s murder, and the notes from the scene of the break-in, as wellas Mary’s daily journals from school were all re-evaluated following her and Norma’s apprehension. Police immediately took notice of the drawing of Martin next to a bottle of pills, noting that that information was never made public, and only someone who was involved in his death would know.

On August 8th 1968 Mary and Norma Bell were formally charged with the murder of Brian Howe.

“Tears in court as girls are accused go boys’ murder.”

Mary and Norma’s trial kicked off on December 5th in Newcastle. Since the girls were so young, the BBC and ITV banned reporting on their news bulletins. The girls’ lawyers were also asked to sit beside them throughout the trial in order to ease their stress. During the trial, Mary and Norma both maintained their innocence, blaming one another for the murder. It was noted that Mary showed very little emotion (if any) until she underwent cross-examination. Only when she was asked if she attempted to strangle a pigeon, did she begin to cry. Throughout the trial, which lasted only nine days, Mary held her composure, and answered questions swiftly. Norma, on the other hand, seemed very unsure of herself and appeared coerced. After careful consideration of the girls’ testimonies and psychiatric evaluations, the jury determined that Mary had showed no remorse or anxiety throughout the trial process; they concluded thatMary demonstrated psychopathic tendencies and was a danger to society. Taking into consideration her mental evaluation, Mary Bell was found guilty of manslaughter on the ground of a diminished sense of responsibility. She was initially sentenced to life imprisonment. Norma Bell was acquitted of all charges on the grounds of being coerced and “simple-minded,” and she was able to return to her home in Scotswood.

Mary’s age was also greatly considered during her sentencing process, and the court determined that they needed to not only incarcerate Mary, but to rehabilitate her. Unfortunately, because of the uniqueness of her crimes, the court was unsure where to end her. It was reported that she was originally sent to an adult prison, but was later moved to Red Bank secure boarding school in Newton-Le-Willows, Lancashire. Oddly enough, she seemed to fit right in during her six years there. It is worth noting that Mary was the only female student among twenty-two male students. However, due to the struggle to properly accommodate Mary and provide her a secure place to live within the facility, she was later moved to Brentwood, Essex, and enrolled in a facility for maladjusted children.

“Two Nights of Freedom with Mary Bell.”

During her stay, Mary’s mother Betty did her best to visit, but their relationship was strained. Mary repeatedly wrote her mother, begging her to take responsibility for the way she raised Mary so that she could be acquitted of the murders.

In 1972, Betty, who at this point was dependent on both alcohol and drugs, gave an interview wherein she blamed arguments between Billy and herself as the cause of Mary’s behavior. She claimed that Mary was unable to form meaningful connections with others. Following this interview, the general public agreed that Betty’s public breakdown was just one contributing factor of Mary’s problems. It was reported later that Mary was selling interviews and stories to news outlets, and selling pieces of Mary’s handwriting. In total, Mary spent just twelve years of her life in incarceration. Throughout her time served, she never once owned up to her crimes, nor did she display any sense of grief or guilt for the victims.

In 1972, the BBC show Midweek reported that Mary appeared in photographs, nearly naked and posed, as a child. The show also stated that Mary had been included in, as well as witnessed, sexual incidents while in holding. She was also apparently provided with pornographic books and photos. It is alleged that the photographs were taken by Mary’s mother, Betty. The photos ranged from Mary posed in her underwear, to Mary wearing some of her mother’s more suggestive clothing pieces. It was not clear at the time whether any staff members had been present when Betty took the photographs or not. In addition to the photos, the show made claims that Mary did not receive adequate mental assistance, and that the Department of Health and Social Security refused to investigate the issues accordingly. In 1977, newsbroke yet again after Mary and another inmate had successfully escaped from Moor Court, the prison facility in Staffordshire. The two women were picked up by a motorist and spent two days and two nights exploring pubs and taking the local train. It was reported that Mary escaped the prison in order to lose her virginity. After being apprehended by police once more, Mary was sent to Risley Remand Center for the next three years leading up to her official release.

“Mary Bell turns down offer of new identity.”

By the age of twenty-three, the court deemed her no longer a threat to children, and agreed to release her. She was even offered a new identity, which she turned down. Mary did go on to give birth to a daughter following her release from prison. She made the decision not to discuss the nature of her crimes with her child until she felt she was old enough to handle it, however, after media reporters discovered her daughter (and their home), they were sent literally running from reporters with sheets through over their heads. At this time, Mary’s daughter was fourteen years old, and both were granted life-long anonymity and new identities. The court and many media outlets reported the intent of Mary’s incarceration to be supportive and extremely successful. They claimed that she was a spectacular case of criminal rehabilitation, however, newspaper reports clearly seemed to paint a much more candid picture of her experiences.

Sources:

Sereny, Gitta. Cries Unheard - Why Children Kill: The Story of Mary Bell. New York: Metropolitan Books, 1999.

Sereny Gitta. The Case of Mary Bell. London: Arrow Books, 1972.

#writing #true crime #murder #murderer #spicybisouswriting #writer #investigator #investigate #investigative journalism #mary bell #mary bell UK #mary bell murderer #gemini #gemini murderers #tynside strangler #the tyneside strangler

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k-s-morgan · 5 years

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Will, Hannibal, and Alana in S2: Changing Dynamics, a Sex Scene, and a Gun

This post was initially sparked by WarriorSilicon’s The Gun thread but when I started writing, it grew a bit :D Before approaching the topic of the gun, I think it’s important to evaluate how Will’s attitude to Alana changed from his release, up to the gun-giving moment, and later, as well as the dynamics between him, Hannibal, and Alana.

So, in E7, Will leaves the prison and returns home to his dogs. Alana is there and Will is in a clearly good mood. He treats her pretty warmly, but at the same time, there are some arrogance and condescension in his words. He’s also being accusatory to a degree: *“Because you didn't believe me? Or in me? Because you let me question my own sanity, my sense of reality?”* In a way, it can be read as teasing, but I think the line between teasing and accusing is very thin here. Will genuinely despises the notion that Alana (and Jack) didn’t believe in him, no matter how logical it was, and he even attributes the guilt of having to question himself to Alana, though out of them all (Alana, Jack, Hannibal), she knew Will the least and had no reason to believe otherwise.

Alana lets Will know her opinion changed because he attacked Hannibal, and all Will’s warmth visibly dies. He’s not hurt by the realization that Alana and Hannibal sleep together — instead, his emotions are more subdued and he grows irritated and curt. He warns her to stay away, a genuine warning, as I see it, dictated by the care he feels for her, and leaves. So, at this stage, Will has warmth for Alana, but it’s tainted by his bitterness.

In E10, Will tries to fantasize about Alana as he’s having sex with Margot. However, he sees the image of Wendigo near the fireplace, Wendigo who he’s used to associating with Hannibal. Two interesting things: first, Will actually sees Hannibal’s room and consequently, he sees himself in it (or he sees their rooms united). Second, he sees the Wendigo near Hannibal’s fireplace. Fireplace has many meanings, including passion, sexuality, home, family, and resurrection. It emphasizes the sexual and romantic subtext of this uniquely shot scene, where people destined to be together have sex with the wrong partners.

Will’s eyes widen and he looks in scared disbelief at what he sees. And then his vision begins to contract, focusing on Wendigo, on how it’s sitting and then standing up in all its dark glory. Will is having an orgasm at this very moment, imagining the Wendigo’s face very close, approaching him. Still through the misty eyes, he tries to focus on Alana again, but his gaze moves up to Wendigo above her, as if he can’t help himself. He and Hannibal reach orgasm first, with Alana and Margot following them. Conclusions: Will has absolutely dragged Hannibal into his sex fantasy. It’s both symbolic and physical: he tried to imagine Alana just like he tried to have a relationship with her before, in S1, out of his desperate desire to be normal. But his attention is inevitably drawn to Hannibal, who’s his “real deal”.

Then there is an interesting scene of Alana turning away from Will in the bed where all three of them are lying. Will reaches out, seemingly to touch her hair, but — and this is up to interpretation — maybe he reaches toward Hannibal, right *through* Alana. As his hand starts to slip down, we see Hannibal’s hand start to slip up toward Alana (and Will). Maybe it’s just about Alana, or maybe it reflects a trend of Will and Hannibal reaching for each other but never quite meeting in the middle (not yet, at least).

Alana, Will, and Hannibal have dinner together. Alana is disturbed after her meeting with Freddie and she tells Will and Hannibal about how strange they come across together . She adds that Freddie “sees what no one else sees”. Will doesn’t like to hear it because it hits too close to home. He almost throws a quick glance at Hannibal, as if for guidance, and then avoids looking at Alana as he asks, “And what is that?” After her reply (that according to Freddie, Will and Hannibal might be the killer everyone’s looking for), Will stares at Hannibal in grim, somewhat panicked wariness. He does feel guilty, and I’d say, it’s not just about his darkness. He’s guilty of the growing closeness and intimacy between them.

Will and Hannibal’s eyes meet, hold, and Will looks at Alana again. Eventually, he tries to push the negative attention to Freddie by comparing her to a psychopath. His initial tension is gone, he is looking at Alana in subtle amusement. She holds his gaze for quite long, and I assume she caught the challenge in his behavior because she outright says that “Freddie isn’t the only one without boundaries” as she continues staring at Will. This is likely a more romantic-colored tension — Alana is no longer concerned about the killers, and the way she targets Will in particular in front of Hannibal feels territorial to me. In fact, she stares at Will for so long that Hannibal finally reacts, and only then does she turn away. However, she then questions the nature of Will and Hannibal’s relationship by focusing on Will again. Note how she doesn’t look at Hannibal during this — no, she feels threatened by Will in particular. When she does glance at Hannibal, it’s at the word “enemy”, as if she’s reminding him that Will tried to kill him and thus cannot be trusted.

Will also stares at Hannibal now, the wary look is back. He’s waiting to hear what Hannibal says, and Hannibal defends their relationship by saying that “crossing boundaries is different from violating them.” He directly emphasizes that his and Will’s relationship, whatever it is, is mutual. Will turns to see Alana’s reaction. Alana is clearly displeased. Another long look at Will, and she refuses to give up by saying, “It’s just difficult to know where you are with each other,” her eyes going between Hannibal and Will, stopping at Will.

Will finally regains his voice properly, so he answers, “We know where we are with each other. Shouldn’t that be enough?” His smile at Alana is fake as hell and jerky. Hannibal is the one amused now, looking between them, first listening to Will’s reply very attentively and then turning to Alana, as if asking, “Well? What do you say now?” Alana says nothing and just goes on looking at them both.

This scene is really framed like a lover and a wife fighting over their man, with Hannibal in the middle of it. Will’s care about Alana seems to lessen at this point — he’s still concerned about what she thinks but he’s not above challenging her now. He brings Randall’s meat to Hannibal later and Hannibal is hopelessly enamoured — his happy, shy smile during their intimate dinner still makes my heart melt :D

Episode 11. Will and Hannibal’s relationship is gaining a more explicit tension, with ortolans setting the mood right from the start. Alana comes to Will. She thinks he killed Freddie. Will is not happy to see her and asks rather sharply, “Do we do friendly visits anymore?” He doesn’t feel well, and we remember that when Will doesn’t feel well, his control is shaky (which explains his many-sided motivations, some darker than others). When Alana asks if he killed Freddie, Will starts being creepy. He looks mockingly/with light amused condescension and tilts his head, asking, “What do you think?” Alana is even more freaked out, telling him that this is the wrong answer. Will mocks her in a different way now, telling her that since no one believed him about Hannibal, no one’s going to believe her about him being a killer either. He doesn’t act like someone who wants to soothe Alana or who cares about her at all at this moment. He doesn’t act as if he’s interested in protecting her in any way. When she says, “I don’t think Hannibal is good for you and I think your relationship is destructive”, Will replies bitingly, “Hannibal’s good enough for *you*.”

Based on everything that happened prior to that, including the fact that Will was never serious about Alana, I have no doubts this is him being territorial over Hannibal. Alana has no words for this, and Will adds that she should be afraid. Then he leaves to bring out a gun. He walks slowly, as if he’s unsure if he really wants to do this. “Whoever you are afraid of, don’t be afraid to use it … Find a range. Practice.” Note that he still isn’t sure of whether he should be doing this. He doesn’t give her the gun even when she opens her hand to take it — he hesitates and holds it for a while before finally letting go. It’s very focused on. Then he slams the door shut.

Their next meeting happens at the cemetery, at “Freddie’s” funeral. Will decides to be creepy again and scares Alana by hinting he did kill Freddie. Eventually, he moves Alana’s suspicions to Hannibal as well by telling her, “I’m here because my psychiatrist suggested that it would be therapeutic.” So, considering this and including Will’s growing indifference/animosity toward Alana, what were his motivations for giving her a gun?

As WarriorSilicon noted, this gun doesn’t help Alana at all. It becomes her nemesis that seals her fate and leaves her as Hannibal’s enemy forever. First, Hannibal smells the powder on her fingers. Then Alana fires, not knowing there are no bullets. WarriorSilicon mentioned how “the gun seemed to be such a huge false sense of protection, as if she was tricked into it”, and she really was by Hannibal, who made her make her own decision by forcing her to think she had a chance. But again, what about Will? Like Hannibal, Will’s mind follows many different trains of thought. Many of them are so subtle that they remain in his subconscious part. Let’s review the possible motivations he could have here, starting with the darkest.

1) Will likely knows about Hannibal’s unique ability to smell literally everything. And yes, I know he got busted because of it himself — in my eyes, it doesn’t refute the theory of his knowledge (but more about this later). Reasons why Will had to know about Hannibal’s sharpened perceptions:

a) He directly told Hannibal that unlike him, he (Will) doesn’t have such a sophisticated palate. Hannibal often goes on about delicate shades of flavors and as such, so Will must have at least some idea about it, especially considering his words.

b) Hannibal recognizes Will’s presence by smell alone two times. First in S1, in the finale. Then in S2, after Will comes after him with a gun. Hannibal knew it was him without turning and he repeatedly bashed his aftershave. Will is highly observant, I don’t believe he missed that Hannibal manages to smell things at least somewhat better than most people.

If he knows, then he had to at least consider the fact that Alana will be found out. Even if he just has a vague idea, he still had to think about it. Gun powder has a very sharp smell — I can smell it easily, for example, and I don’t have any enhanced senses. In fact, it stays with me for ages if I fire it, so from the practical experience, I’d say it’s next to impossible to miss the smell unless your nasal channels are completely cluttered. It’s possible that Will endangered Alana deliberately, out of frustration, resentment, and possessiveness, maybe out of morbid curiosity. He seemed torn between giving or not giving her the gun, so I definitely think there were several reasons for it. If he did do this deliberately, though, I don’t think he was entirely aware of it. It could be a darker, silent part of him that he tries to keep locked at most times.

2) Will was curious as to whether Alana would be able to kill someone. The whole show is about Hannibal and then Will putting people in situations where they have a chance to embrace their darkness. Unlike Will, Hannibal doesn’t make mistakes: he knows who’s capable of what and he doesn’t bother good people. Will seems interested in experimenting on people regardless of the details, based on Chiyoh and Alana in S3 (when he pushes her to “spill blood”). So, I think it’s very possible he could have wanted to see if maybe Alana was capable of murder, too.

3) Will wanted to commit a suicide by Alana’s hands. And that’s where the bit about him going to Hannibal with Freddie’s smell comes into play. Throughout the show, Will shows an alarming tendency to toy with his own life. He hates himself, has spent years in this hatred, so it’s understandable.

a) In S1, it’s less obvious. He doesn’t take care of himself at all; he has severe seizures, he walks at night on the empty road, he nearly jumps from the window, and he still doesn’t go to the hospital. After he’s hospitalized, he thinks everything was the fever’s fault. What does he do? He stops taking his antibiotics against the fever properly pretty soon after that.

b) In S2, Will has a dream about his darker version killing his innocent version by the means of electric chair. He’s obviously torn later, wanting to be with Hannibal, wanting to punish Hannibal, feeling guilty for being who he is, albeit less so than before, and so on. At the moment of Will giving Alana the gun, he’s the one she’s scared of most. If she had to shoot someone, she would shoot him, especially after his creepy attempts to scare her. So it could be his subtle attempt at self-destruction. Same with Freddie. A part of Will might have gone to Hannibal wearing her perfume knowingly. He felt guilty about lying to him, as we know from S3, so he could have wanted to be punished, half-consciously as it was. In S3, Will does try to commit an actual suicide, so I think it fits into his pattern of behavior.

4) Will actually wanted to protect Alana. No matter how snappy and cold Will might act, he still cares about her in a way. It’s obvious from how he tries to save her in S2 finale. This care fades into nothing later, paling in comparison to the heartbreak of losing Hannibal and Abigail, his real family, but at this point, Will is still attached. I think this is his biggest motivation out of the four, but I also believe all four are at play here.

So, in conclusion, this arc between Will, Alana, and Hannibal is extremely revealing about their feelings. It emphasizes the romantic part of Will and Hannibal’s relationship and complements Will’s growing darkness.

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #alana bloom #meta

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