#that wasn’t Gregory and I will die on that hill | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shesawriter39049 · 4 years ago

Text

|Breakdowns & Bugatti’s| M|

***** Headcanon’s for my OT7 AU*****

Genre: Rich Kid AU/ Drama/ Suspense/ Smut/ Angst

AU SUMMARY : The story of 8 heirs, who also happen to be the children of some of the most powerful, and well known political figures in The Big Apple! This is a candid look at all of the sex, lies, drama, scandals, couture and boujee affairs that are caught both on, but more importantly off camera!

OR: Gossip girl meet’s HTGAWM? Essentially if GG was on HBO, darker, and had more depth within it’s plot! Which is no shade, I love me some Gossip Girl, but realistically looking back a lot of the “Drama” wasn’t that...deep lol! But we still loved it all the same!

Note: The first chapter is called “The Kim’s of New York” So these headcanon’s are solely the Kim boys & the OC! ALSO, I just tried to find the most discrete gif for the Y/N there is NO ethnicity for ANY of my OC’s! Also, it’s set to be a OT7 intertwined plot but the smut with the OC will prob only be 3/4 members deep!

***The sneak peek for part 1 which is Namjoon X Reader will be linked***

~~~~~~~

Name: Namjoon Kim

Age: 21 Birth place: New York, New York

Current Residence: West Village, New York/ Songpa-Gu, Seoul Korea

Profession: Heir, College student, Entrepreneur, Art lover, Smartass, Heartbreaker (Closet fuck boi)

College: NYU (Incoming Junior)

Degree: Aiming for a Master’s in Journalism & Political communication. Endgame :Political Journalism

Preferred Degree: Opinion, Trade, or Art Journalism, or a Museum Curator (Namjoon actually anonymously runs a pretty popular art based travel blog)Namjoon also dabbles in that Soundcloud life making beats under an undisclosed name...however that’s just a hobby....so he says...

Business Type:....Co-owner/founder of an exclusive, invite only, dating service....do with that information what you will!

(Bonus Question ) Licensed Business?: LMAO….sure

Net Worth : 10 Figures

Dating Status : Closet Fuck Boi! Wait, is that not an option? Okay fine. He’s single...ish…Kinda? Well to be fair it depends on the time of day honestly! Is it a Sunday? Are we going to Brunch at Society Café? Or, is it Friday night and he’s going to the “Press Lounge”? More importantly is it election season and and does his father need him to not look like a hoe!? This is all crucial information, I need meticulousdetails honestly! So for the time being I guess I’ll have to pass on the question!

Aesthetic : Tom Ford X Hugo Boss X Valentino X Dior X Tommy Hilfiger = Couture Business Casual! I.E Namjoon always looks like he’s going to some business meeting with Elon Musk, and Jeff Bezos! Even if it’s like...noon on a Saturday and your going on a day trip to Nappa...He’s still in calfskin loafers and a disrespectfully tight button up. Namjoon’s giving like...hot college professor PornHub realness...Yup His whole “Scholar Student” Aesthetic is a whole ass kink and baby boy knows it!

Political Tie: Father, Joshua Kim, New York Senator

Parents : Father : Joshua Kim, (New York Senator, son of Billionaire tech Tycoon Sang Woo Kim) Mother: Christine Kim : Luxury Event planner

Siblings : Only child

Political Party: Democratic

Actual Political Party: Liberal Daily : Matte Black Porsche 911/ Satin Red Ferrari 458/ Bugatti Veyron Matte red

Name: Seokjin Kim (Jin Kim)

Age: 23

Birth place: London, England

Current Residence: Upper Eastside, New York/ Chelsea London

Profession: Existing, Retired Editorial Model, Entrepreneur, Occasional influencer (When he feels like it) IE, the influencer that never really asked for the titile...he’s just rich and living his life! I mean let’s be real who isn't curious to see how the -1% lives?!

College: University of Oxford

Degree: Maybe he has a Master’s in Business...maybe he dropped out!

Preferred Degree: Culinary Arts...or honestly...just chillin...maybe eventually open his own modeling firm or something down the line!

Business Type:....Jin casually runs high stakes poker matches...and that’s all you need to know for right now….

(Bonus Question ) Licensed Business?:...Again...that’s all you need to know right now…

Net Worth : 10 Figures

Dating Status : Single, and not in the mood to entertain….unless you’ll like...walk yourself out after then maybe...Oh also it’s a requirement that you’re aware there’s more luxury brands than Gucci and Louis Vuitton. Show up in anything straight monogram and Jin’s going flaccid on command!

Aesthetic : Chanel X Dior X Cavalli X Dolce X Fendi = On Duty Runway Model! It truly doesn’t matter if he’s going to brunch, the movies, or sitting front row at Galliano! Jin always looks like he should be front row at Galliano! Whilst also effortlessly looking 10x’S pretter than half of the bitches in Manhattan even on his worst day! Androgyny at its finest, well Jin and Judge Parks son are kinda tied in that department!

Political Tie: Father, David Kim, Mayor’s Chief of Staff/ “Ghost” press secretary

Parents : Father : David Kim, (Retired Corporate Attorney, son of Billionaire Oil Tycoon Hyun-Son Kim) Mother: Lisa Kim, Co- owner of Hotel Shailla, daughter of Michael Lee, Millionaire Entrepreneur )

Siblings : Taehyung Kim (20), Hae Jin Kim (29) Deceased...( Allegedly)

Political Party: Democratic

Actual Political Party: Honestly, Jin could give less than a damn

Daily : Matte Pink Aston Martin One, White Bugatti Chiron

Name: Taehyung Kim (Tae Kim)

Age: 20

Birth place: Rome, Italy

Current Residence: Cobble Hill, New York/ Pairs, France (When he’s not in school...or just on the weekends)

Profession: College student, Painter, Podcast Host, unwarranted fashion critique/ Stylist! Tae lowkey thinks his IG feed is the reprise of “Fashion Police” Joan Rivers bless rest her soul..she would’ve loved him!

College: Bernard (Sophomore)

Degree: Fine Arts (Painting/ Sculpture)

Preferred Degree: Exactly...what he’s doing...he enrolled at NYU for business. Lasted all of like...5 months before he dropped out!

Business Type:....Tae run’s a very...controversial late night Podcast appropriately titled “Tae unfiltered”! It wasn’t supposed to be a job, lord knows he doesn't need one...However due to the steady increase in his audience the youngest Kim is on track to ending up on Forbes without his inheritance.

(Bonus Question ) Licensed Business?:...Yup!

Net Worth: 10 Figures

Dating Status : Single, and more than ready to mingle, Tae essentially had the same girlfriend all throughout high school! The pair broke up maybe 7 months ago when she opted to go to college in London. So let’s just say he has a lot of making up to do and he’s very much….open to new experiences…

Aesthetic : Guicci X Gucci X Gucci X Gucci X Gucci = Gucci!? Nah, actually Tae, is fond of anything that doesn't...blend in...so Moschino, GCDS, Vetements, Kenzo, Balmain= If it lowkey looks like it could've been homemade...but it cost like bare minimum 4k! Or he just highkey looks exactly like you’d expect, like a very rich, art student who loves funky. abstract, unethical, clothing! Is he going to Coachella or to the farmers market? We may never know but that’s fine! He’s also young, and well aware that he’s fine as fuck, and that’s a whole ass problem! Tae may not have a ton of experience but he’s far from shy and more than down to learn...

Political Tie: Father, David Kim, Mayor’s Chief of Staff (Ghost press secretary)

Parents : Father : David Kim, (Retired Corporate Attorney, son of Billionaire Oil Tycoon Sang Tae Won Kim) Mother: Lisa Kim, Co- owner of Hotel Shailla, daughter of Michael Lee, Millionaire, Entrepreneur )

Siblings : Seokjin Kim (23), Hae Jin Kim (29) Deceased ( Allegedly)

Political Party: Democratic

Actual Political Party: Liberal AFFFFFFFFFFFFF

Daily : Lime Green Lamborghini Huracan/ Matte Grey Ferrari F60

Name: Yn/Ln

Age: 21

Birth Place: Paris, France

Current Residence: Upper East Side, New York/ Dubai

Profession:...Taking pictures, of both herself and other people, ugh...looking attractive? Does that count? Oh being well dressed...Self taught photographer, Fashion Blogger, Creative Director,Entrepreneur...

College: N/A ...Possible freshman at NYU or Bernard or, FIT for Photography & or Fashion

Degree: N/A... IF, she went it would be for Fine Arts/ Fashion degree for Creative Direction

Preferred Degree: Honestly, none, she lives and breathes fashion and due to her lifestyle Y/n already has the type of connections that up and coming photographers would die for! BUT...said college degree would shut her father up...so it’s a possibility! However, it’s not like he considers photography or being a fashion influencer a real job anyway...sooo she mideswell just not even bother!

Business Type:....Existing? Her main job is essentially...breathing...and occasionally taking pictures of other people! Oh, and herself as well, she get’s paid to post daily content! She runs a website called “MyJobIsToBeWellDressed” Co-owner of an exclusive invite only dating service!

(Bonus Question ) Licensed Business?: Yes and...(lmao)...for the first part, where her blog and all of that is concerned, yes...she’s 1099 the full nine! The other job however...................mmm... next question?

Net Worth: 10 Figures

Dating Status :YOLO

Aesthetic : 90’s Couture meet’s “House of Yes” @ 3 AM ( Back when luxury brands weren’t afraid to have fun and be a little risque) Chanel X Versace X Dolce X Prada X Gucci X Galliano = Well kept sugar baby??? Or every time you see her your literally like “Dude where the fuck are you even going!!??” Baby girl is always overdressed, she showed up to go on a doggy date through central park with Yoongi and Holly in 7 inch Louboutin’s sooo..we love that! Owns literally every vintage 90′s runway archive you can think of...If you’ve gagged over it on Pinterest it’s in Y/n’s closet. She’s smooth as all fuck...that’s for damn sure, radiating the perfect blend of BD and WAP energy....she’s a bad bitch and she knows it! Fuck the entire upper Eastside knows it!

Political Tie: Father, Christopher L/N, New York Senator

Parents: Father : Christopher L/N, (New York Senator, son of Billionaire Automotive Tycoon/ Real Estate Mogul Gregory L/N/ ) Mother: Ashley L/N, (luxury) Interior Designer & Daughter of Hotel Mogul Michael L/N

Siblings: Only child...maybe

Political Party: Democratic

Actual Political Party: Liberal

Daily : Matte Black Bugatti Divo / Satin Purple Lamborghini Murcielago/ Any car that any of her friends are driving because...fuck that, ridding shotty all day!

~~~~~~~~

There they are!!

The sneak peek is linked below...part 1 is Namjoon X Reader

However Jin and Tae are briefly introduced...and they will eventually have induvial chapters as well!

SNEAK PEEK

93 notes · View notes

voidthecryptid · 4 years ago

Text

otgw theory time

so y’know how wirt and greg ended up in the water after rolling down a hill cause of the train??? and they woke up in the water after the final episode?

so this is mostly a common theory and maybe it’s even true but the unknown is purgatory!

purgatory: (in Roman Catholic doctrine) a place or state of suffering inhabited by the souls of sinners who are expiating their sins before going to heaven.

greg stole a rock and wirt was mostly rude to greg and those could count as sins

but anyway, something about the train scene... including the original pilot:

“once there were two brothers named Wirt [Walter] and Gregory. One Halloween night they accidentally took a ride on little black train. They soon realized the train was headed straight for the afterlife, so they jumped off halfway.”

“Lost in the dark forest between life and death, they met the wise old Woodsman, who showed them a mysterious book detailing all of their future experiences in this strange place called "the Unknown." The only way for Wirt and Greg to escape, he explained, was for them to live out all the stories contained in the tome...otherwise they would be trapped forever in the Unknown forever.”

SEE?

also, here’s a few parts of the lyrics for “old black train”:

“Come on now, young strangers

Weren't you someone's son?

How'd you find this depot?

Because it ain’t where you belong.

You will pass a graveyard

Stones worn by the years

The train will stop a minute

But don't let it leave you here.”

now, think about those lyrics for a minute...

also! here’s a few other things I’ve noticed!

y’know that episode “babes in the wood?”

well, that title is literally for a story called babes in the wood and supposedly this happens:

“ The traditional children's tale is of two children abandoned in a wood, who die and are covered with leaves by robins. “

two children?

in the wood?

death?

covered by leaves?

does that sound familiar to you?

also...

I guess he really was the ghost all along, huh?

anyway time for another theory

so y’know how greg ended up in cloud city and he spoke with the queen of the clouds? and then he wakes up and he just suddenly leaves with the beast without questioning anything about it? well, my theory is that the queen of the clouds isn’t real and the beast is actually her because the beast just tricked greg into coming with him through his dreams!

and then towards the end when wirt found him and then they both woke up in the lake and everything is fine after that?

that part wasn’t real either.

it’s wirt’s imagination.

the ending went by too fast but also let’s just include the narrator saying “and everyone is satisfied with the ending” cause that part was awfully quick...

but anyway, why do i think the ending is fake and wirt’s imagination?

well...

he and greg are still dead in the unknown, but greg has passed on already and wirt’s probably still stuck there so he’s trying to deal with the fact that greg is gone.

and also don’t some trees symbolize death?

also the lyrics for “into the unknown” literally have:

“If dreams can't come true, then why not pretend?”

“The loveliest lies of all.”

and finally..

i think the snow in the final episode is probably symbolizing hypothermia.

anyway, that was my theory and i’ll probably make a part 2 or something, who knows.

#otgw theory #purgatory #otgw purgatory theory #otgw is purgatory #the unknown is purgatory #over the garden wall #over the garden wall theory

48 notes · View notes

venactricisfics · 5 years ago

Text

Show Me What You’re Made Of

t@negans-network @neganmorgan@mypapawinchesterjeffreynegan @ask-kakashihatake @haleyea@collette04

Negan X OC, Smut, Negan-like language.

Masterlist

I suck in a breath and move forward. Walking who fucking knows where for who fucking knows how long. But being on this road hands bound together as we walk one tied to the other was better than the alternative.

I never wanted to be saved so much as I did now. I wished to hear the Savior whistle in the trees. But it didn’t come. Negan didn’t know what had happened to me or to the rest of us. Maybe what they did here, they did at the Sanctuary. I push those thoughts away. Negan was too much of an asshole to die. I had to be strong enough to make it through whatever these people planned to do and to find my way back to him.

The girl with the ponytail sat on the back of the small pickup. Riding next to three of our dead. They were just guys who that morning were stacking boxes in the infirmary and walking the perimeter of our outpost. I felt a twinge of guilt. I told them to be out there. She stared at me sadistically, pointing her gun at as though she were going to fire.

Jared’s whistling followed by the one called Morgan smacking him with a stick pulled me back into the moment. I walk listening as the other one, the one with long hair and piercing blue eyes talks about us being people. He seems to be the only one of this group who believes that we are human. It made me see him, /them/ as human. I supposed all of us had that inside us. The sadistic and the saint. We gotta decide what part we listen to and hope like hell that kept you and the ones you love alive.

I hear the familiar growls and look up, “Walkers on the hill!” Alden pulls the rope tied to my waist so that I’m right behind him protectively. We didn’t have knives or any weapons to protect ourselves. We’re solely at the mercy of these people who so far haven’t proven to be looking out for our best interest. I jump back as a biter sinks his teeth into James, a gunshot pierces the head of the walker and then James.

Jared uses that distraction to run off with his group into the woods. “Let’s go after them,” Alice says as she starts to run. She falls to the ground. Stopped by the length of the rope tying her to Alden.

“They have guns,” Alden tells her. I nod in agreement, “There’s no way we can getaway. Not like this.”

“Don’t you fucking move,” ponytail says holding her gun on Alice, “or do and there’s one less of you we take back to Hilltop.”

The ones that ran off were drug back, after taking stock, they’re a guy short. The defeated look on their faces tell me what happened, tell me what could have happened if the rest of us had tried to run too. Our captures return short Morgan. He seemed unstable. I was almost glad he didn’t come back.

“I remember you,” ponytail says, “you were with him when he killed Spencer and took Eugene.” A light came on over my head, she was the one who tried to cover for Rosita.

“I was there,” I responded as we start walking again. “I remember.” I keep my eyes on the back of Alden’s head. I couldn’t let her elicit emotion from me.

“Why?” she asks. “Why did you do that to us?”

“Could ask you the same,” I say back, “you broke into our home, that place now twice. Killed our people in their fucking sleep. They were someone’s fathers, brothers, and husbands too. If you want to cast us as the villains and yourselves the heroes if that helps you sleep at night, fucking go for it. But in the cold fucking light of day, when you look at yourselves in the mirror,” I cut my eyes to her, “you are no better than us.” The rest of the walk is in silence, if not I’d say something that would get us all killed.

We stop outside the gates of Hilltop, our guides arguing with the people inside about what to do with us. It was hard as hell to watch and listen to people to debate over if we should be kept alive and why and how. I just wanted to be back home in my bed at the Sanctuary with Negan. Before the Widow, the King, and Rick showed up to bring our world crashing down.

It was decided that we’d be held outside the walls of the Hilltop. Walker bait I figured. Cannon fodder. At least until they figured out what the hell to do with us. I wish I had the energy to fight back or to break down. I couldn’t do any of that. Not without hurting the rest of us. I watch as a car with some kind of armor welded to one side pulls up. The man that slipped behind the wheel looked sad. I pushed the empathy that was starting to surface down, I couldn’t not with the enemy, not now. He reached in pulling a baby from the passenger’s seat. I recognized the pink sleeper she wore. I’d scavenged it for Gracie a month ago.

The one that debated to keep us alive passed us out food to us. It wasn’t much, just enough to keep us alive. I was so hungry I forgot how much I hated eating turnips as a kid.

“Thank you,” I say taking a drink from the canteen. He nods, looking up from me as the Widow storms out from the gates. Barking about giving us food and water. So this is just temporary. I tilt my head listening to their debate.

“We have to end this,” she said, “and Negan.” I lean my head back a little relieved, Negan was still alive.

“Take this,” Alden whispered to me handing me half his turnip.

“I’m not taking your food,” I tell him, “we don’t know when they’ll give us more. If they’ll give us more.”

“Then rest,” he said. I nodded, knowing there wasn’t anything else I could do but wait. Wait for these people to kill us or for Negan to come and rescue us. I lean my head back against the wooden fence and slow my breathing. Letting my mind drift between sleep and awake.

I’m not sure how long I was out before hammering behind me stirred me back into consciousness. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t know,” Alden responded then turns to speak to our pseudo prison ward. “What are they building?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said turning away from the noise.

“Is this what you signed up for when you joined your group?” Alden asked.

I rub my eyes awake and glance out into the darkness. It registered again that we were outside the protection of the walls, bound. The growls in the distance caused my heart to pound. We had no way of keeping the biters off of us.

“Is that why you brought us here?” I asked, “You couldn’t kill us so you’re going to let us be ripped apart by the dead? Is that what that lady’s plan is?”

“You can stop now,” he said, “none of us are innocent.”

“What do they call you, Jesus?” Alden asked, “Well, Jesus, I’m no angel. Never said we were.”

“We do what we have to survive,” I said, “same as you. We’re no different. Us or you.” The night went on with few more words exchanged. I couldn’t sleep again. Not with the growls from the walkers in the distance and the noise from the hammering behind me. I couldn’t die like that. Not being ripped apart while I sleep.

“Maggie says to bring them inside,” a girl maybe sixteen says after the sun had come up. My heart thumped in my chest at least they wouldn’t be feeding us to the dead. Only hanging us from the gallows. The gate creaked open and we’re lead in, two at a time. Not to our death, but to a fenced-off area inside the walls.

“We’ll keep the prisoners in here for now,” the Widow, Maggie, says, “We’ll feed them, won’t mistreat them but we won’t stand for anything other than total cooperation.”

Gregory, as weak as I’d remembered him being with Simon, adds, “We can’t let people we don’t trust run around inside our walls.”

“You’re right,” she adds, “that’s why you’re going in there too.” Two of the Hilltopper men drag him in the fence crying.

The man who brought baby Gracie in stood among the other Hilltoppers. “Is she ok?” I call out to him, “Gracie, is she OK?”

“She’s fine,” the man turned from me and walked back toward the large house. I watch him as he walked away. His shoulders slumped with the weight of unbearable sadness. I closed my eyes again trying to push away the connection I felt with him. I had to tell myself that his sadness was no worse than ours. But still, I felt it. My heart broke a little for him.

I lift my eyes and watch as Jared tries to cut through his ropes with a rock. I shake my head and motion to Alden mouthing, “Stop him.”

“I’m not gonna let you get us all killed,” Alden says to him softly, “keep your shit together.”

“Why are you doing the ol’ lady’s dirty work now?” Jared asks snarkily. “You taking Negan’s sloppy seconds?”

“Shut up,” I move toward him, “you got no fucking clue what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” he quirks a brow, “Negan tossed you out.”

“What in the fuck is your problem?” Alden sternly whispers, “We just want to stay alive. That’ll happen better by us sticking together than pulling apart.”

The day crept on, no one said anything to us other than to keep quiet. Breaking us apart if we got too close together. I couldn’t get a solid read on our captors. They seemed torn about what to do with us. I didn’t know how much longer we’d have to wait for Negan to come rescue us. Or if we could wait for them. There was so much talk of the Saviors surrendering. I didn’t foresee that happening. At least not Negan. He wouldn’t get on his knees for anyone. The leaders of the Hilltop left shortly after dark.

“What do you know about the Widow? Um… Maggie?” I asked Gregory, who coward, in the corner, “What will she do to us?”

“She’s ruthless,” he told me, “she came in here and stole this place right out from under me. You saw how we compromised when I was in charge here. She’s gonna get us all killed.”

“Why is she keeping us alive?” I asked Alden and the others.

“Leverage, most likely,” Alden said, “they know you’re Negan’s don’t they?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “The angry girl with the ponytail knew but I don’t know if she told any of the others.”

“They’re probably too chicken shit to do anything to us,” Jared says. He’s met with agreement from some of the other guys. The creaking of the gates quiets any further talk on the subject.

“Get him out,” Maggie’s face angry as she stares past me at Dean. He generally stayed in the kitchen pretending to stock shelves. Maggie’s eyes cut to Jesus as Dean is drug from our enclosure, “He tried to kill you, right?”

“Maggie, what are you doing?” Jesus asks. Maggie turns away getting a gun from one of the other men. I move closer to the fence, in the hopes that I could find some way to stop what was happening.

“Maggie, you don’t want to do this,” Alden says stepping up beside me.

“Shut up Al,” Dean replies. “She won’t do shit.” There’s no time for either of us to act. The next sound is a gunshot followed by Dean’s now dead body slumping to the ground.

“You want to be next,” Maggie’s gun moves to aim at Alden.

“No, I don’t,” Alden responds.

“Saviors killed on our own on the road tonight,” she says, “we aren’t even but that was a start.”

“What did you think they were gonna do?” I ask her, “Let you kill our people and take us without fighting back?”

“Who are you?” she narrows in on me.

“It doesn’t matter who I am,” I respond, “you’re just gonna kill me when you’ve run out of use for me right?”

“She’s Negan’s,” Gregory calls out.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I shake my head at the man.

“Take her inside,” Maggie says, “And get more guards on duty. Start fortifying the walls and bury Neil. In the morning we need to start tending crops. ”

“Wait what?” I ask as I’m drug from the cage. “Let me go. Leave me here with my people.”

“It’ll be up to Hilltop to make the last stand,” Maggie says, “You’ll play a part in that.” She turns pulls a knife from her belt.

“Wait,” Alden calls out, “she’s pregnant, don’t, please.” Her eyes lock on my face then look down at my stomach and then her palm touches her own. She reaches up and grabs a fist full of my hair and slices through it with her knife.

“He’ll want you back then,” Maggie says and tucks the lock of hair in Dean's pocket before the other’s nail his coffin shut. She scribbles across the lid,

We have your woman, unborn baby, and 37 more of your men,

STAND DOWN.

“Leave it where they will find it,” she says, “Take her inside, keep her tied up.’

#twd #twd negan #negan twd negan negan's thirst squad negan fanfiction twd #the walking dead #Negan's thirst squad #negan fanfiction #negan x oc #negan x reader

30 notes · View notes

twentiethcenturymoviesandtv · 4 years ago

Text

Running Scared: The Story

So Running Scared is a buddy-cop movie, right?

Well, heck, you might say. If it’s a buddy-cop movie, I may as well not read the plot description. A by-the-book cop is forced to work with a wild-card cop to catch the criminal and save the day, while learning to respect each other. The boss gets mad at them, the car gets destroyed, they’re pulled off the case, and solve it anyway, breaking procedure in the process.

Okay, so you’re not wrong about that second half. Got me there. Buddy-cop films tend to not have a whole lot of variety when it comes to cliches, but then again, the same could be said of most genres. And hey, cliches aren’t necessarily bad.

Before you write off Running Scared as just another attempt to cash in on Beverly Hills Cop, though, there are a couple of things to consider: for one thing, there’s no ‘by the book’ cop. And these two certainly aren’t being forced to work together. These guys? They’re good friends.

Let’s take a look at the setup. (Spoilers below!)

Two undercover Chicago cops, Danny Constanza (Billy Crystal) and Ray Hughes (Gregory Hines), spot two criminals they recognize: drug dealer Julio Gonzales, and one of his associates, ‘Snake’. Gonzales, recognizing the pair, drives off before the two can investigate further, but before he does so, he gives Snake a briefcase, which Snake runs off with, and I’m sure is totally legitimate.

Danny and Ray pursue Snake to his third-floor apartment, where they threaten him with a search warrant. And physical harm.

“Listen, Snake, here’s the situation: I have this gun here. Now I am going to take the gun out and I am going to shoot a lot of holes in the door. If you are standing in front of the door, what can I tell ya? Some of the holes are gonna be in you. Ya catching my drift, Snake?”

Snake lets them in.

The pair open his case, and discover what was so important in there: $50,000.

Unfortunately, possessing $50,000 isn’t evidence of wrongdoing in and of itself, and Danny and Ray can’t make an arrest. Danny, having an idea, steps outside the apartment, onto the balcony, and makes an announcement to anyone in the neighborhood:

“This block is being designated a Neighborhood Watch Area. There’s a guy up here named Snake. He’s wearing garage-sale clothes and the top of his head looks like a parakeet. He also has FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS in small bills in a briefcase. As his neighbors, it is your responsibility to make sure there are no suspicious characters or evil perpetrators lurking in the area who would seek to do him harm. Again, FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS in small bills, tax free, in a briefcase right in this apartment. Which has a really cheeseball lock! You can bust your way in there, bop him on the head, take the money, nobody would know! So it’s UP TO YOU. Thanks a lot, have a good day.”

Snake, realizing the tough spot he has just been put in, punches Ray in the face so they have an excuse to book him.

While the pair take Snake to the station, they discover that the money in the briefcase belonged to Julio Gonzales. After a few stops, one at a funeral for Danny’s aunt and the other at the scene of an apparent rooftop jump, the pair take the criminal in.

While at the station, Danny’s ex-wife, Anna, comes in to give him some news: she’s getting remarried to a dentist. During this discussion, a lawyer comes in with a check for $40,000 for Danny, left to him by his deceased aunt. Danny is left, presumably, with a severe case of mood whiplash, as he still clearly has feelings for Anna, and is now saddled with quite a bit of cash.

At this point, the plot decides to get going.

See, as it turns out, the ‘suicide’ from earlier wasn’t quite what it seemed. For starters, the victim was a cop, and he didn’t die as a result of the jump. He was drowned first. And seeing as it’s pretty hard to die from jumping off a building after you’ve already died from drowning, the captain of the precinct puts Danny and Ray on the case to figure out who did the police officer in.

The pair decide to use Snake to get to the bottom of it, and convince him (via withholding all but $5,000 of his $50,000) to lead them to Gonzales, planning to get enough evidence to arrest him. Snake agrees, (again, reluctantly) and leads them to the meeting place, a cargo ship. While there, they discover that Gonzales is in possession of a box of Uzi machine guns. During the meeting, Snake pretends that he is in danger, and Danny and Ray rush in, only to be surrounded by Gonzales’s men. Gonzales announces that he plans to be the next godfather of Chicago, and has one of his lackeys shoot Snake. As the guns turn on Danny and Ray, two detectives, who have been serving undercover in Gonzales’s gang, announce their identities, and after an ensuing gunfight, arrest most of the gang except Gonzales himself. After another brief chase, Danny and Ray corner and arrest Gonzales and take him in, clearly expecting to be praised.

Back at the precinct, Captain Logan chews the pair of them out for busting the undercover operation and then needing to be rescued like rookies. He also orders them to go on vacation.

So, they do.

To Key West, Florida, to be exact.

While they’re there, during their Good Times Montage, Danny decides to quit the force, and convinces Ray to retire as well, so they can open a bar in Key West with the money left to him by his aunt. Ray agrees, and after their vacation, the pair return to Chicago to deliver their 30 day notice.

They also find out that Julio Gonzales is out of prison on bail.

Enraged, the two vow to not leave the force until after they put Gonzales away for good, and set off to find him, intending to be a little more careful this time. On top of that, however, Captain Logan has given them a new assignment: training their replacements before they go, the same two undercover officers from the previous bust.

After an incident involving Gonzales getting away again (This time with Danny and Ray’s pants), the duo are left empty handed (aside from Gonzales’s impounded car, which is towed after Ray spray-paints a no-parking zone around it).

This is probably what the captain is talking about when he tells the two cops they’re ‘training’ that he better not catch them doing anything like what Ray and Danny do.

Armed with a new and improved version of the beat-up car they’ve been driving, (including updates like bulletproof windows, which unfortunately do not roll down) Ray and Danny follow a tip from a criminal to where Gonzales is expecting a shipment of cocaine. When they get there, however, there are already police officers on the scene, who discover a packet of cocaine estimated to be worth $3 million. The credit for this find goes to the two undercover cops Ray and Danny are training, and the two are further irritated by the fact that Captain Logan is already treating them like they’re retired. As the pair head off, they are stopped by a drug agent, who has examined the cocaine and determined that it’s an inferior grade, and, in all likelihood, a decoy for the real shipment.

At this news, Danny and Ray immediately head off to try to find the real shipment, and when they see Gonzales meeting with a priest and nun at customs, they assume that the drugs must be in the area. Gonzales spots them and drives off, leaving the priest and nun at the platform. Ray and Danny, driving their police car disguised as a taxi, pick the two up and take off after Gonzales, leading to a chase scene on railroad tracks. In the chase, Gonzales’s vehicle is destroyed by an oncoming train, but he manages to get away. Danny and Ray are left with the priest and nun, who they suspect of smuggling drugs inside the ceramic containers within the suitcases they carry.

At first, they appear to be wrong. At the station, when no drugs are found within the containers, Danny and Ray apologize for being mistaken and the priest and nun are released. However, the two discover that while there are no drugs within the containers, the ceramic containers themselves are made of pressed cocaine. The partners get a new lead on Gonzales’s location, and head out for a stakeout.

Par the course for this film, this doesn’t go especially well either. Gonzales has arranged a trash compactor truck to meet them there and destroy their car (with them in it) if they refuse to return his drugs for a bribe, which, of course, they do.

The pair escape through the back window in the nick of time, but they’re too late. Gonzales is gone. The next day, Ray and Danny take Gonzales’s impounded car out in search for him, and later that day, Anna comes to Danny’s apartment to give him an insurance policy she found, and the two have an argument about Danny’s immaturity.

“You can’t be a kid your whole life, you’re gonna have to grow up!”

“Why? I don’t like grown ups.”

After their heated discussion, Anna leaves the building only to be kidnapped by Gonzales’s men, used as a hostage, offering a trade: Anna for the drugs. If Danny doesn’t comply, Anna will be killed.

Lucky guy that he is, Gonzales has just hit Danny’s Berserk Button.

“If you hurt that lady, you’ll never be dead enough.”

Danny agrees to the trade, and with Ray’s help, takes the drugs from the evidence room as they prepare to take Gonzales down. The plan shakes down like this:

Danny is going to enter the meeting place, the Illinois State Building, with the drugs while Ray sneaks in through the basement. The two plan to arrest Gonzales after the trade, rescuing Anna in the process.

Considering the way their plans have been going so far, it’s not far off to bet that things go wrong, and sure enough, it doesn’t quite go according to plan.

The only way up from the basement turns out to be the window washing rig, which compounds Ray’s job quite a bit. Meanwhile, during the trade, Gonzales orders one of his underlings to open fire on Danny and Anna, both in transparent elevators right next to one another. Danny orders Anna to drop to the floor and shoots the underling as Ray enters the building, hanging from the window washing rig. At the same time, the undercover cops the pair are training enter as well, and a shootout ensues, all set against the lovely backdrop of Christmas decorations.

Danny rescues Anna, taking her to safety before returning to the action. He and Ray take out Gonzales, even though there’s some contention over who fired the fatal shot, Anna and Danny lovingly reunite, and the two cops decide that Chicago still needs them, and not to retire after all.

Thus ends Running Scared, competently wrapping up loose ends with a happy finale for all on the right side of the law (except for maybe the dentist Anna was going to marry). If I were asking if this was a ‘competent’ ending, I would have nothing more to talk about.

But I’m not.

I’m asking if it’s a good ending.

Or indeed, a good movie in general.

Let’s start with that second one, actually.

Running Scared is chock full of cliches and tropes. From the angry police chief to the car getting destroyed, it merrily tromps through its plot, checking off traditional buddy-cop story devices one by one, except for the biggie: there is no conflict between the cops themselves. They are in total agreement in everything from procedure to their personal lives. There is no ‘real’ arguing, there is no distrust or rivalry. They are very close friends.

Does one subversion make for a good movie? No, not by itself. But the way this film emphasizes that subversion really does elevate it, in my opinion, to something special.

The story? Not that original. The setting? Eh, if you wanted a good look at Chicago, you could just as easily pop in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off or The Blues Brothers. The action? It’s the ‘80s. It was everywhere, and there were plenty of movies with more action than is found here.

In the case of Running Scared, the uniqueness of this film really comes from how the characters interact with the story, rather than the story itself. Specifically Danny, who the film seems to be a little more centered on, especially during that final act. Which seems kind of odd, considering the fact that on first glance, there really doesn’t seem to be that much character development for him, or anyone at all for that matter. But on a closer look, it’s a little different than that.

See, the interesting thing about Danny is that his life drives the plot. It’s his inheritance, his bar, his ex-wife that’s been kidnapped, and his immaturity that caused the split in the first place. Ray, as central and important as he is, mostly tags along and helps Danny out. When it comes to the actual story, it is Danny’s relationship with both Anna and Ray that brings everything together. It is his believable warm, easy chemistry with both characters that, in my opinion, puts this on a level comparable to, but different than, other buddy-cop films of the day.

Once again, at first it can seem like there’s no development in the movie, and after all, isn’t character development what can make or break a film?

Absolutely.

It’s not overt, but there is a subtle shift in Danny’s behavior throughout the film as he takes more and more responsibility for his actions, acting, as it were, a little more mature. While ending the film still largely a Deadpan Snarker Cowboy Cop (much like his partner), the kidnapping of Anna and her words to him before it happened change his attitude for the final act of the film. He takes the situation completely seriously, arguably for the first time in the movie, and demonstrates to Anna that he can be a grown-up, especially when it concerns people he cares about. Danny’s mildly Man-Child ways are brought up a few times in the film, about as consistently as the subplot involving his ex-wife who he clearly still cares for, his development is less about him becoming less of a wild-card cop than it is him taking responsibility and taking his job, and his life, a little more seriously. Is it pointed out? No, not really. In fact, you kinda have to squint to see it. The change is pretty subtle, and it’s a little rushed, as it takes place during the equally rushed last act of the film. For all of its good points, the movie does have a tad of a pacing problem towards the end.

However, it does make a difference. At the end of the story, the characters decide not to retire, to continue protecting the city. That wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying an ending as it is had it not been for the slight changes in the protagonist, notably Danny (whose idea it was in the first place) and his increase in maturity. Also more satisfying as a result is his reconciliation with Anna, again, not as effective if it wasn’t for the actual display of responsibility.

Back to our questions.

Is Running Scared a good movie, and does it have a good, satisfactory ending?

Very simply: Yes, to both.

Is it great? No. It’s by no means a work of art, but it’s not really supposed to be. It’s supposed to be a funny buddy-cop movie, and at that, it very much succeeds. It gives us some likable characters, a competent story, and enough chemistry and laughs to more than make up for the heap of (not inherently bad) cliches that fill the script. In some ways, it’s very much a standard buddy-cop film. In others, it’s just a little different, making for a combination that sets this film a little apart from the rest.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, stay tuned for more articles on some of the other facets that make up Running Scared, and don’t forget that my ask box is always open for discussion, suggestion, question, or conversation. I hope to see you in the next article.

#Running Scared #Running Scared 1986 #1986 #80s #Film #Movies #Action #Comedy #Crime #Thriller #Buddy Cop #R #Billy Crystal #Gregory Hines #Jimmy Smits #Darlanne Fluegel #Peter Hyams

1 note · View note

aarontalksmusic-blog · 5 years ago

Text

A Top 30 Horror Movies

This is Halloween! This is Halloween! There are a lot of awesome horror movies, but I picked just 30 that qualify as my favorites.

#30 - The Conjuring

So this movie isn’t perfect. The last 20-30 minutes kinda turn into a mess as the demon gets more confrontational. But, the first 90 minutes are a near perfect slow build of tension and smart visual storytelling. All the actors do a good job, even the kids. This movie has insured I never play Hide and Clap.

#29 - Paranormal Activity 2

In my opinion superior to the (still pretty good) original, PA2 moves faster than its predecessor and uses the audience’s curiosity against them in interesting ways. You’re always looking to the edges of the screen for something or someone out of place, and as the movie progresses, that curiosity rattles the nerves more and more.

#28 - The Hills Have Eyes (2006)

One of the only modern horror remakes that improves and expands on the original. The Hills Have Eyes hit when I was a junior in high school. It is gleefully gorey and deranged. People die in awful ways, and the protagonist (seen above) spends most of the last half hour drenched in blood. It’s a lot of fun if you’re into that sort of thing.

#27 - Event Horizon

Space Horror is a hard genre to get right. Event Horizon knocks it out of the park by getting the slow build right. There are gruesome and bloody images from time to time, but the majority of the movie is built on tension and dread. Having Sam Neill and Laurence Fishburne leading the cast adds some dramatic weight to the proceedings.

#26 - The VVitch

The GOAT 17th Century rural horror movie. This movie gets real weird and leaves a lot up to the audience’s imagination. The less said about it the better if you haven’t seen it. But, even for the 2010s renaissance of horror, this one stands out.

#25 - Hereditary

This is a list of my favorite horror movies, not the scariest. If it were “scariest” this would be top 10, maybe top 5. The second half of this movie is some of the most uncomfortable and relentlessly horrifying storytelling I’ve ever seen. Across just two feature films, Director Ari Aster has proved himself a master of the horror genre. We’re all worse off for it.

#24 - Return of the Living Dead

The first movie on this list that is more funny than scary, Return of the Living Dead is laugh out loud hilarious at times. Somehow, it still manages to be a more effective zombie movie than most serious ones. Great punk rock soundtrack and highly quotable, this is great for people who scare a little too easily.

#23 - Friday the 13th Part 2

Basically improving on the original in every way, Friday the 13th Part 2 is iconic even without Jason’s hockey mask making an appearance. The killer instead keeps a lumpy bag over his head the whole time. The movie lets you know early on that its going to be ridiculous, when the Part 2 logo literally smashes through the Friday the 13th title card. Great representation of the slasher genre.

#22 - Suspiria (2018)

I’m a sucker for lore in movies, and Suspiria is full to the brim with details that expand on the world. Led by great performances from Tilda Swinton and Dakota Johnson, the movie is highly intelligent and occasionally brutally violent. The fact that the director’s prior movie was “Call Me By Your Name” shows that he’s a talented filmmaker no matter the genre.

#21 - Halloween (1978)

Michael Myers is iconic. The music is iconic. Jamie Lee Curtis is an all-time great horror leading lady. Halloween is a must watch for horror genre fans.

#20 - Get Out

This movie is so well written it won an Oscar. Get Out is both hilarious and brutally tense. The acting is awesome across the board. Who knew Jordan Peele would use his comedy talent to make a career in scary movies?

#19 - Shaun of the Dead

A classic comedy filled with so many jokes that it takes about 3 watches to catch them all. Not scary in the least, but uniquely playful in the genre. Also made Simon Pegg a star. Nothing but greatness here.

#18 - The Descent

I’ll always remember my first watch of this movie. It slaps you in the face with trauma in the first 5 minutes. Then spends three quarters of an hour building tension and claustrophobia before suddenly becoming a solid monster feature. Though it fizzles a little at the end with some wtf moments, the first 3/4ths are very effecting.

#17 - Nightmare on Elm Street

Nightmare on Elm Street is just a cool as hell idea for a horror movie. It takes the occasional predictability of Halloween or Friday the 13th and flips it. The kills are inventive and visually interesting, the effects are very cool, and you get to see Johnny Depp get brutally murdered. win-win-win.

#16 - Saw

Saw came out at a perfect age for me. Seeing this movie at 16 was a great experience. Even as the sequels got worse and worse, the whodunnit nature of the original held up. People were literally drowning in gore by Saw 3, but this is a solid movie that knows when to tone things down. Great watch.

#15 - Evil Dead 2

By turns hilarious and unsettling, watching Evil Dead 2 allows the viewer to marvel at the special effects done on a shoestring budget. Bruce Campbell is an absurd and talented physical actor, and singlehandedly carries this movie into the hall of fame.

#14 - IT Chapter 1

Chopping the 1,000 page Stephen King book in half allowed the first half of the IT saga to thrive. Bill Skarsgard is a fantastic Pennywise, and the child actors all do well. A slightly repetitive series of scares keeps this one from perfection (and would be the downfall of Part 2), but its still an amazing peak of the genre.

#13 - Dawn of the Dead (2004)

Fast zombies. Zack Snyder directing before his head got too big. Hilarious musical cues. Apocalyptic imagery. This movie is one of the best of the zombie genre.

#12 - Fright Night (1985)

One of the most simply fun movies on this list, Fright Night is straight out of the mid 80s. It never takes itself too seriously, but it still has some good scares sprinkled in. An essential vampire movie, and the remake with Colin Farrell wasn’t half bad either.

#11 - The Omen (1976)

One of my early favorites, The Omen is another lore filled film that gradually ramps up the twists until the dramatic finale. Probably one of the least scary films on my list, its built on Gregory Peck being a great actor and a few pretty messed up deaths.

#10 - An American Werewolf in London

Another favorite from childhood, this is the best the werewolf genre has to offer. Made by John Landis who also did Animal House and Blues Brothers, American Werewolf balances 80s level of gore with award winning special effects and clever music (every song featured has moon in the title).

#9 - It Follows

One of the newest (and most original) movies on the list, It Follows is one of a kind. It’s terrifying, has great cinematography and halfway through the movie you have absolutely no clue how it will end. Must see.

#8 - Midsommar

This is absolute newest film on the list, and one I’m anxious to rewatch. Midsommar sets itself apart by being 95% in broad daylight and providing a wealth of backstory to the “bad guys”. Also Florence Pugh shows that she is an amazingly skilled actress, particularly in the final 10 minutes.

#7 - The Exorcist

^That guy is scary. He’s also only in the movie for like 3 seconds. Obviously this is a classic. If you haven’t seen it and like horror at all, it will still amaze you, almost 50 years later. I would’ve loved to be a fly on the wall when it was in theaters watching people lose their minds. Still a masterpiece of the genre.

#6 - The Blair Witch Project

I watched The Blair Witch Project for the first time alone in my room at age...I believe 14. That was a mistake. While the mistakes of the hikers become a bit hilarious on multiple rewatches, the night scenes are still tense af. The last 15 minutes are uniquely terror-inducing. Everybody’s seen this one, but if you haven’t, maybe watch it with the lights on?

#5 - The Evil Dead (2013)

This movie is one of the most intense and relentless horror movies ever. Nail guns, rusty knives, a turkey carver, a chainsaw, a machete: people get literally ripped apart in this movie. But, here’s the thing, its really really fun to watch. You’ll be out of breath when its over, but still.

#4 - Cabin in the Woods

Cabin in the Woods isn’t THAT scary. It flirts with scary. It has some shocking and frightening moments But mostly its a shitload of fun that plays on every trope of the horror genre. It also has one of my favorite final moments of any film on this list.

#3 - The Thing

Underappreciated upon its release, The Thing has become the standard by which body horror is measured. Its delightfully paranoid and lets the audience sit and think as gruesome deaths pile up.

#2 - Alien

One of the first movies to terrify me, Alien is one of the greatest horror movies ever made. The monster design is iconic. The kills and set pieces are one of a kind. It has a kick ass female heroine played by Sigourney Weaver. What more do you want?

and finally

#1 - The Shining

YEAHHHHHHH Here’s a brief list of iconic Shining scenes: - An elevator full of blood - The old woman in room 237 - All work and no play make Jack a dull boy - The snowy hedge maze - Here’s Johnny - Danny’s vision of the twins - The house of horrors finale featuring the man in bear costume featured above and of course - REDRUM This movie is a masterpiece, made by one of the greatest directors of all time, starring one of the greatest actors of all time and based on one of the scariest books by the defining horror author of our time. Its damn near perfect.

8 notes · View notes

damn-daemon · 5 years ago

Text

We Were Gods (Pacific Rim)

(Reboot preview for @marvelousthronewars)

Remember K-Day.

Those posters had been plastered on every building, every bulletin board, every flat surface that people could stick them to. Songs were written, documentaries were made, and rumor had it there was a Hollywood production in the works. The Kaiju was on display in some museum, tens of thousands of lives were lost, and the crippling effects to the United States military would last for years.

Remember K-Day? There would be no forgetting it.

Especially for those of us who survived.

Prologue Carolina

August 15th, 2013 Oakland, California

Mommy, when are you coming home?

Someone is screaming. It isn’t until I need to take a breath that I realize it’s me.

Even then, it’s hard to stop.

My leg is pounding and my back is on fire. There is blood on my hands, but I don’t have the presence of mind to investigate where it came from. I can’t even comprehend which direction is up, much less give myself a medical evaluation.

I’m lying on the floor of the helicopter, which is actually the left side door. The Black Hawk had landed on its side at the end of the crash. My leg is suspended above me, caught in the radio cables, while the rest of my body awkwardly straddles the door gun.

For a moment, I stare at my foot, as it swings above me, then past it where the right door has been busted open. The sky above is bright and cheery. I can almost pretend the ash is falling snow.

“Williams!” my voice croaks as sense begins to reestablish itself. “Williams, talk to me!”

Pinned in my helmet, I can’t turn my head to look for my fellow crew chief, but it doesn’t take long for me to realize that I don’t have to. It was the reason we crashed. That giant…thing destroying the city took a swipe at the helicopter, taking the door, and Williams, with it.

“Fuck!”

I take a breath, assessing my situation. My hand gingerly reaches out to my foot, hoping to untangle it from the cords, but something in my back strains, and my hand flops uselessly back to the ground. I’m unable to reach it. So, I shift my hips, attempting to lift my leg free. Everything is on fire again, my nerves, my muscles, my bones. The only thing that keeps me going is another scream.

When my leg is finally free, it hits the floor, hard, and the pain makes me pass out.

It’s darker when I wake up. Something is rumbling in the distance. Thunder maybe.

Or it.

I reach up and pull my helmet off, head crying in relief as my hair spills around my face. Tucking the strands away, my hand rubs against something painful and sticky. There is a gash on my forehead. Explains the blood.

Taking deep breaths, I brace myself for the pain to come, silently hoping I’m not in for another nap. Idyllically, I shouldn’t move. My back is damaged in ways I can only make worse, but I can’t fool myself. No one is coming for me in this chaos. To them, I’m already dead.

I roll, slowly, onto all fours, gingerly testing each limb for any breaks. My right leg pulses slightly, but it’s a green light otherwise. I should be grateful my hip didn’t pop out of its socket.

Carefully, I crawl over the wreckage to the cockpit, but I don’t hold out much hope for survivors. Pilots always took one hell of a hit when these things crashed. If either had survived, their legs would be all but useless to them, and I am hardly in a position to do them much good. A bandage and a prayer won’t go far out here.

A bloody mess is all that greets me. I don’t even recognize either man anymore.

I lean back, facing the sky again.

How the hell did I survive?

Another rumble catches my attention, followed by two F-16 fighter jets flying dangerously low.

Definitely not a storm then.

Climbing out of the helicopter is a struggle. I fall several times, finding a new pain with each attempt. Somehow, I claw my way to the surface, rolling onto the remains of the door where I lay on my back for some time, catching my breath and waiting for the pulsing to leave the edges of my vision.

We landed dead center in the street, some shopping district by the looks of it. Parked cars are crushed under rubble, windows are blown out of storefronts, bags and purses and bits of groceries lie abandoned on the ground. There isn’t a soul in sight.

In the distance, a building collapses.

I watch the debris as it blasts through the street, quickly covering my face as it washes over me. A muffled sort of silence falls over the area, as though I am underwater. There is sound, and yet I can’t hear anything, only my breath against my gloves.

There is nothing but gray when I dare to uncover my face. Unless a good wind comes through, the dust won’t settle, lingering in the humid summer air for some time. I lift my shirt over my mouth and nose, cursing myself for leaving my helmet behind. My goggles are on it.

I continue to watch the area, making out what few silhouettes I can; I need to make a plan, figure out where I am and get the hell out.

Sudden movement in the distance catches my attention.

I flip over onto my stomach, adrenaline canceling out whatever pain I might have felt.

Only then do I feel the ground shaking.

Trespasser is larger than the surrounding buildings. It moves slowly, but each step is hundreds of feet. In the darkness of the debris cloud, I can see its eyes glowing blue.

And they are looking at me.

It screams.

For a creature so large, the sound is painfully shrill. I cover my ears in pain, rolling off the helicopter onto the street below.

I curl up into a ball, my hands still on my ears, waiting for it to stop, screaming all the while.

Just stop.

Please.

Stop.

“Gregory! Gregory, listen to me!”

Someone is standing over me. Why isn’t he covering his ears too?

“This isn’t real!” he shouts. He has an accent.

Not real? Of course it’s real. People died. People are still dying. We are going to die.

“Think about your daughter!”

Casey? How does he know about Casey? My beautiful little girl who is so far from here, but safe. She’s safe. I wish I was safe with her. She just turned seven last month and…

No, that isn’t right. Her birthday is in February, not July. And she’s five. How can she be seven?

Unless…

“That’s it, Gregory,” the man says, offering a hand. I release my ears, finding it suddenly silent again, and stand with his help. His face, that outfit, not a uniform but something…familiar.

“Stacker?” I mumble, the name not entirely foreign on my tongue. My eyes look around the area with newfound clarity. Everything seems to have stopped moving, Trespasser included.

“That’s right,” he answers. “You know where we are?”

I take a breath, looking at my hands. My combat uniform is gone, replaced by the same suit Stacker is wearing. A Drivesuit.

“We’re not here.”

. . .

March 18th, 2015 Kodiak Island, Alaska PPDC Proving Grounds

I gasp, clawing at my helmet. One hands throws it off while the other toggles the manual release. Once the clamps are removed from my suit, I fall on my hands and knees, taking deep breaths, heaving.

“What the hell did you do to her?!”

“Is that going to happen to us?!”

“I did not sign up for this shit!”

People are shouting; people I know. The candidates for the program. Soldiers, sailors, pilots. There’s an Australian, and Stacker, and me. I’m one of them.

I’m one of them because of what I did, because I was there on K-Day. But wasn’t I just there? I felt it and heard it, everything was exactly the same. I was there.

But it wasn’t real, like Stacker said. But it felt real.

“Pentecost and Gregory are only the second pair of candidates to have initiated a neural bridge,” a woman quickly explained. Caitlyn Lightcap, the famed creator of this bullshit. “Being connected to another person’s mind, there are multiple factors that we could never anticipate.”

“It’s never happened to us,” said a man. Lieutenant Sergio D’onofrio.

“But we aren’t you.”

Someone is touching my shoulders, moving me into a sitting position. I don’t even know who. My eyes won’t move. I have to focus. If they close for even one second, I’ll be right back there.

“What happened in there?” asks the man holding me. I know the accent. It’s the Australian, Hercules Hansen. Just like me, he’s only here because of something he did when the Kaiju attacked, things we would both rather forget, but the world won’t let us.

Stacker answers him. “She was reliving a memory, or something very much like it.”

“No!” I shout, suddenly regaining control of my body, though only momentarily. I sway on my feet, and Herc has to catch me. “That was not a memory. You don’t feel your body breaking in a memory; you don’t smell the bodies.”

I’m crying, and it’s embarrassing, because of course the woman would get emotional. Stacker just stands there, clearly made of stone, but he was never there. He’s never been so close to a Kaiju that he could touch it if he had the ambition; he’s never seen an entire city reduced to ash because there were no options left.

But I have, and they made me see it again.

The walls are starting to close in. I can’t breathe.

“I can’t-”

It’s all I manage to mumble before I duck out of Herc’s grasp, running for the exit.

“Let her go,” Stacker orders, clearing the path for me as I barge through the other candidates.

I used to have this building memorized, could probably walk through it blindfolded if given the chance. I’d been here for months with little else to do, but right now, my memories are a jumbled mess. I can’t make sense of any of it, so I stumble around, lost and confused.

Workers are staring at me, attracted by the outrageous look that is Drivesuit fashion and the sound of its heavy boots on the concrete floor. I barely notice them, desperately searching for a simple exit sign.

When I finally spot one, I slam through the door so hard, I nearly fall over again.

It’s the dead of winter still this far north, but the cold air is a godsend, jolting my mind back to a clearer place.

When someone bothers to come find me, I’m sitting against the building, watching snow drift across the hills in the distance. My body isn’t even cold. These Drivesuits are oddly well insulated.

Stacker Pentecost isn’t in his Drivesuit anymore. He’s back in a regular suit and tie. He doesn’t put on anything less than formal if he doesn’t have to. The guys and I bet that he’d box with us in one if they let him.

There is something calming about his stoic presence. As angry as I had been earlier, I’m grateful that Stacker is the way he is. He is the solid rock that the rest of us lean on, like a good First Sergeant that a commander and his unit can always rely on. I’ve known a few over the years. They always seemed larger than life to me, and now I’m supposed to be Drifting with one.

“You had some shit memories too, Stacker,” I mumble, watching a tern glide on the breeze.

“Why are you here?”

I chuckle. “Because the higher ups think my face would look nice on a poster.”

“That explains them, but why are you here, Gregory?”

Trespasser flashes in my mind. Six days of fighting, six days of helplessness, all culminating in the hollowest victory anyone has ever faced. Sometimes I still jump when a light turns on suddenly. More terrifying than that Kaiju was the bomb that took it out.

“Because killing ourselves in order to survive isn’t the way,” I reply, looking up at Stacker. “I’m not quitting, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“It’s not. You’re a good soldier, Gregory. I know that drive. You’ll see this through to the end. Both of us will. Just hang on to the why and you’ll be able to get through this.”

I stand up again, watching as the sun breaks through the clouds for the first time in days. In the distance, I can make out Brawler Yukon’s enormous form.

“You think it’ll work?”

Stacker is quiet for a while, as if debating. But I’ve come to know him well here in Alaska. He’s a man who doesn’t say anything lightly, and has no issues taking the time to do it. There is a sharp focus in his eyes as he stares at the distant Jaeger, as if he’s picturing what it’s going to do in the future.

“We’ll make it work.”

#like i said i went way more in depth with the intricacies #the set up of the PPDC is like my favorite stuff #and don't worry about avwh #i wrote this like two years ago #pacific rim fanfiction #pacific rim oc #pacific rim

13 notes · View notes

canadiankazz · 6 years ago

Text

The Twentieth Time - An L.A. by Night Fanfic

Takes place imminently after the "Dark Hallways" vignette at the end of Season 2. Annabelle meets Chloe. Jasper needs time to sort his unlife out. This is the end... for now.

This fic is part of an AU series where Jasper has been feeding from Annabelle and they now have a Blood Bond and a slow burn romantic relationship. It's worth reading the rest of the "Feeds From" series before this part for proper context and build up of Jasper and Annabelle's relationship.

This is going to be the last fic I write in this series for a while. I may well continue it sometime later, after we see how they handle the whole Chloe situation in Season 3. In the meantime, here is some angst, and some conversations that I hope we get to see some versions of in the show.

I lay no claim to any of the characters involved. The only profit I receive is the occasional kudos and positive comment.

Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me through all 20 of these fics (so far.) Thank you to everyone who has left me comments, kudos and messages. Thank you to everyone who reads, but doesn't leave me anything. This series was not possible without @cravatfiend and @gokaiyellow, my Jaspabelle coterie.

Also posted to the author's Ao3.

First posted May 8 2019.

The Entire ‘Feeds From’ Master List Can be Found Here

The Twentieth Time

A lot was going through Annabelle's mind as she walked along the concrete L.A. riverbed towards Jasper's sanctum. A lot on her mind, and most of it not good. Her hood was up, her hands thrust deep into her pockets. She knew this route well, and had walked it many times since she and Jasper had began their Blood Bond.

She had assumed that if the rest of their coterie found out, she would be happy. Keeping secrets was what had driven Elle and Mark away from her. True, that was also for their own good, or so she had been told. It would keep them in relative safety to not be seen as a target from her Kindred enemies. Annabelle could see the truth in that, now that they had experienced a few encounters with the Camerella. It didn't make the pain in her heart feel any less.

At least she had Jasper.

Their affair had lasted several months. Annabelle chuckled to herself to think of it as an affair, but that's more or less what it was. It had started with her feeding him while he was near starving and it had grown into an extremely intimate relationship. She had taught him Blush of Life and they had used it rather frequently and to great effect. All the while, they had kept it secret. “Nelli and Victor would not approve,” Jasper had said.

But then there was the earthquake, and Jasper had been horrifically injured and Victor and Nelli knew that Annabelle had used her blood to help heal him. From there, all the coterie had to do was ask Annabelle a few pointed questions and the entire secret had given away like a house of cards. To say that they hadn't approved was an understatement, but Annabelle felt that they had an understanding now. They didn't approve of the Blood Bond, but there was nothing they could do about that.

That had all been within the past few nights.

And now...

Jasper had left the meeting earlier this night in a hurry after a brief, but private conversation with Nelli. Annabelle was sad and confused. They had just finished talking to their coterie about their relationship and things had been looking up. Annabelle desperately needed some optimism right now. These past few nights had been bleak indeed. Annabelle rounded on Nelli as soon as Jasper had left the building.

“What did you say to him?” Annabelle demanded.

Nelli hesitated and Annabelle stared her down with a kind of inner fury that she normally saved for the protest march, or for setting fire to senators' offices.

“I told him that...” Nelli sighed and decided to go with the truth. “I told him that I had sources that have informed me that his girlfriend... his old girlfriend... was in trouble. She'd been made into a ghoul and captured by the Inquisition.”

Annabelle gasped, covering her mouth in surprise. “What?”

“I sent in Gregory to get her out,” Nelli continued. “He assembled a team and got the job done, but she's sick or has been drugged or something. She's at a safe house. I gave Jasper that address and he left.”

Annabelle blinked back tears. Part of her thought she should be mad at Jasper, that he was running back into the arms of an ex, but she quickly scolded herself for even letting those thoughts form in her head. If it had been Mark or Elleanore in the same position, she would have done the same thing. Annabelle had no doubt about that.

“Is she okay?” Annabelle asked.

“I don't know,” Nelli said sadly.

“Who... who made her into a ghoul? Do you know?”

“...Yes,” Nelli confessed after a pregnant pause.

“Who was it?”

“Fiona.”

Annabelle's eyes went wide and she looked at Victor. He also looked surprised.

“But... why?” Annabelle wondered out loud.

“Chloe was... had been trying to look into Jasper's death, apparently. She must of thrown his name around and the wrong people heard it.”

“Oh, no... oh... poor Jasper.” Annabelle knew this was going to break Jasper's heart. Hers already felt broken by proxy. She knew that Chloe had been investigating Jasper, but they had hoped that trouble wouldn't find her. Now their worst fears had been realised.

“Annabelle...” Nelli sighed. “I know that you and him... you love each other. This is going to be a difficult thing for him to go through. Keep him strong. We need him. We need the both of you.”

Annabelle bit her lip and nodded, trying not to cry. “I'll do my best,” she promised.

“I'm sorry,” Nelli said.

“Yeah... I'm sorry too.”

That was a few hours ago. Jasper had texted her that he was on his way home and that things had not gone well. Annabelle's stomach churned with anxiety. She had to be strong for him... but that made her wonder who was going to be strong for her?

Just as she came to Jasper's front door hatch, Annabelle noticed a lone figure sitting on the hill on the park side of the river. She paused and squinted at it in the low light, suspicious and worried. There was no one else around. It was late enough at night to be considered to be too early in the morning. It took her a second, but then she recognised the person sitting on the hill. It was Jasper.

Annabelle walked slowly up the hill towards him. He was sitting on the grass with his knees bent up. His right arm was draped over his knees and helping to hide his face, which was bowed and hidden in his hood. His left arm was being held tightly to his torso. He looked miserable. She could faintly smell his Vitae in the air.

“Jasper?”

He had felt her coming. Jasper looked up, wiping his eyes on a sleeve that was already stained with a few blood tears from earlier. He cleared his throat before speaking. “Hi.”

“Hi. How are you doing?”

“Not great, honestly.”

“I got Nelli to tell me what she said to get you to run off so quick. Is... she okay?”

Jasper nodded, then made a 'so-so' gesture with his hand. “She's still a ghoul, just not...” he licked his fangs, hesitating in his answer.

“Is she... yours?” Annabelle asked fearfully.

Jasper shook his head. “No! No. I could never...”

“I thought not.” Annabelle stepped a little closer to him. “But... oh my God!”

She could see now Jasper's left hand and arm. It was black and withered into a painful-looking husk. His hand looked ruined and near useless. The darkness went almost all the way up to his shoulder.

Annabelle put her hands to her mouth again in shock and to stop herself from screaming.

They were trapped in a collapsed building, Jasper just out of reach above her, screaming as his arm fried in the dawn light as Annabelle panicked below, unable to help him...

“Wha-what happened?!”

“I... I was stupid. Annabelle, I'm sorry.”

Annabelle dropped to her knees in front on him, horror all over her face.

Jasper reached out to her with his good hand, and hesitated. “Shh... calm down,” he said.

“What happened?!” she demanded again. “Your arm...”

“I touched a magic ward... twice... and it fried me.”

“What? Why'd you touch it?”

“It was...” Jasper sighed. “I asked Eva to come to try to help Chloe. Eva did some magic to try to break the ghoul bond because that's... it was making Chloe sick. But the magic hurt Eva in the process and I reached out to her, but I didn't know she had put a ward on herself, and...” With a wince, he showed Annabelle his withered hand.

Annabelle whimpered.

“Please... don't cry,” Jasper said softly. “I'm very hungry...”

Annabelle wiped her eyes in a hurry. “Okay. I'm sorry, but... Jesus, Jasper... I hate seeing you hurt like that!”

“I know. I'm sorry.” Jasper hung his head.

“Is Eva okay?”

“She's hurt. She used a lot of blood, but... she'll be okay.”

Annabelle took a shaky breath. “And Chloe? She's still a ghoul?”

Jasper nodded.

“But not yours... Eva's?”

He nodded again and swallowed hard, looking at the grass.

“That's...” Annabelle didn't know what that was. It was shocking. It was saddening. It was intense.

“It was... the best option out of a lot of bad ones.” Jasper swallowed again. “It was either that or... she die.”

“'Die' as in... be turned?”

“Yeah, or... just, you know... be killed. She wanted to become... one of us though.”

Annabelle's chest tightened. She knew that would have devastated Jasper to his very core, but more than that, this conversation was familiar to her. She had one very much like it with Elle some time ago. Elle had wanted to be turned too, so she would be Annabelle's 'forever.' She hadn't told anyone about that, not even Jasper. Keeping her tears back was becoming a struggle. Be strong, be strong, be strong...

Annabelle swallowed hard against the lump of tears in her throat. “But she didn't?”

“No,” Jasper confirmed. “She's... Eva's now.”

“That's... big.”

“Yeah. Eva wasn't happy about it, but... she did it in such a way that Chloe won't be her... slave.”

“Oh... I didn't know that was a thing,” Annabelle said, blinking in surprise.

“I didn't either.”

“Why'd she do it?”

“Because of me. As a favour to me. All this... is my fault. I don't know if...” he swallowed again, fighting tears of his own. “It's going to take something very big to get me back into Eva's good books.”

“Aww...” Annabelle know how important his friendship with Eva was. He would be heartbroken to lose her as an ally. “I'm sure you'll think of something. Eva's one of the good ones, right? She'll forgive you, I'm sure.”

Jasper nodded. He had something in mind already that Eva had asked him to do. It was another stupid and dangerous mission, but those seemed to be his thing lately.

The sound of footsteps swishing across the grass towards them reached Jasper and Annabelle's ears. Annabelle got to her feet and Jasper turned towards the sound. A pretty, pale, red haired woman was coming towards them.

“That's her,” Jasper said softly to Annabelle. “That's...”

“Yeah... I recognise her from her website,” Annabelle replied. It was Chloe.

“Hey,” Chloe said as she approached. There was caution in her steps and in her voice. “Um... am I interrupting?”

“Oh, um... no, not really,” Annabelle responded.

She came a little closer and gave a shy wave to Jasper. “Hi. How's your arm?”

“Still bad,” he mumbled, looking away.

Chloe looked sad. “That sucks. Oh, um...” she took another step towards Annabelle. “I'm Chloe. I'm... I knew Jasper from... before.”

“Hi. I'm Annabelle. I'm Jasper's...”

partner

lover

“...friend.”

Annabelle hoped that Chloe wouldn’t notice her hesitation in trying to define her relationship with Jasper, but she clearly did. Chloe was canny and smart. Annabelle could see why she had gone into journalism. She was also beautiful. Annabelle understood why Jasper liked her because if the circumstances were very different, she would have liked her too. She also noticed Chloe's own hesitation in introducing herself. Chloe wasn't sure of her current relationship status with Jasper either.

“Hi, Annabelle. It's good to meet you.” Chloe held out her hand and Annabelle shook it. “Are you... one of... them?”

Annabelle frowned, but nodded, guessing what she meant by “one of them.” Not a human or a ghoul.

“I think I remember your name from around campus,” Chloe said. “Do you know Juan?”

“Yeah, he was in my protest group and we used to work together.”

Chloe nodded. “He name dropped you a few times. Everyone was wondering why you'd left school. I guess now we know.”

Annabelle chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah, well... it wasn't my idea, but I kind of had to. It's hard for me to attend classes during the day, you know.”

“Yeah... no, I get it,” Chloe said, nodding with an awkward smile.

“I'm hoping to do an online course to finish my degree once things... settle down,” Annabelle said.

Chloe smiled a little more genuinely. “That's a good idea.”

The whole time, Jasper watched them both. He was still quietly amazed that Chloe was in his presence and aware of him. True, she had freaked out at first, but now she was calm. She was talking to Annabelle. He had never thought that this would happen. No... that's not true. He had hoped that this would never happen, but now it was. The shock of it hadn't faded yet. He suspected it wouldn’t for a long time. Her words of horror when she first recognised his face still echoed in his ears. “What did they do to you?!”

“So, how did you meet Jasper?” Chloe asked.

“He uh...” Annabelle looked at him, trying to think about how to phrase her answer. “I... after I was... turned, I was trying to figure things out and I unintentionally caused some problems and... Jasper was one of the ones who found me and, um... the vampire in change of Hollywood got him to help teach me about... everything.”

“What kind of problems?”

That brought up a painful memory of visiting a lacrosse player's apartment only to discover he had been killed, perhaps to help cover up her actions. “Um... stealing blood from the clinic. Things like that.”

“Oh... I remember that story! That was you?”

Annabelle nodded, looking down.

“And so... you two became friends?” Chloe asked.

“Yeah, we... we've been through a lot together. He's saved my life, I've saved his...”

Chloe glanced from Annabelle to Jasper. Annabelle was so nervous that she would be able to figure them out – she seemed intuitive enough to be able to, and then that she would be mad. Their secret had only just come out to the coterie, and now this...

When it rains, it pours.

“You two seem really close... am I right?” Chloe asked.

Jasper licked his lips anxiously. He knew she had worked it out. “Chloe, I-”

“No, no, it's okay. It's okay,” she assured him quickly. “I'm not mad. It's... it's been a long time. Even I was... starting to move on, trying to date again. I get it. I do. It's okay. I mean... who would have ever thought we'd be here now, talking about this, with you... looking like this and... everything. Right?”

Jasper looked down sadly and Chloe knelt down to his level. She put a finger to his chin to lift his face up to look at her. “It's okay,” she repeated softly, earnestly.

“Everything is very... complicated,” Jasper said, his voice thick with emotion. “I'm still trying to... process you being here and... I need time, I think.” He looked from Chloe to Annabelle. Both women nodded.

“Yeah,” Annabelle agreed. She lowered herself back down to the grass as well.

“Of course,” Chloe added. “I... we all need some time, I think. But hey,” her voice brightened. “We have lots of time now, right?”

The two vampires nodded, a little grimly. “Right,” Annabelle said.

“I'm just glad that... now I have answers, and I got to see you again, Jasper,” Chloe said, her voice soft. “I've missed you, so, so much.”

“I've missed you too,” he confessed. His jaw tightened against more tears. He didn't like being this emotional. He had cried after his embrace, when it hit him that he had to say goodbye to his old life and everything he had ever loved or cared about. He had moved on as best he could, but despite what he had told the others, he had kept one eye on his old life. Now his choice to do that had caught up with him again, bringing with it all the old emotions he had fought down a long time ago.

“He really has,” Annabelle said. “We uh... we found out that you were investigating into his disappearance and he got really upset about it. We found the website.”

“Oh, uh...” Chloe's skin coloured in a light blush. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I was just... trying to make sure there was a record of my findings.”

“You thought the mob was involved?” Annabelle said with a small giggle.

“Well, I don't know! They used to make people disappear all the time! Unless... unless the mob were vampires too?” She sounded excited about that.

Jasper shrugged. “Some, probably.”

“So was it the mob?” she asked him.

“Not in the way you're thinking, no. I'm uh... I'm going to have to ask you to take that website down, please.”

“Sure... okay.” Chloe tilted her head at him studying his face. “Are you okay?”

Jasper shook his head and licked his lips again. “No, not really.”

“Is it your arm? It still looks painful.”

“It hurts, but... that's not what's bothering me.”

“What, then?”

“Chloe, I...” he stopped, re-thinking his words. Something in him wanted to blow up at her, but he restrained himself and spoke as calmly as he could. “You finding out about all of this was one of my worst nightmares. You... becoming like me was, and still is, my worst-case scenario. It would destroy me! My life now... it's a curse. The hunger, my body... It's taken me a long time to simply not hate everything about it. I still hate it, but I can accept it now. But for this to happen to you...” he shook his head. “There are no words for how awful that would be.”

They were all quiet for a long moment.

“Why did you give me that note?” Chloe asked in a soft voice.

“I was hoping that you would move on and forget about me. I didn't realise you'd recognise my handwriting.”

“I didn't want to move on, Jasper. I still love you.”

Jasper's eyes squeezed shut as a blood tear escaped. He wiped it away quickly, looking down and away.

Annabelle bit her lip, still trying to prevent her own tears from falling. She was sad for Jasper and Chloe, but that was also hitting extremely close to home for her. She hadn't spoken to Elle or Mark in a long time, and missed them terribly.

Chloe took a deep breath. “I know that... it's been a long time and that... things are different now, but... hey...” she reached out slowly towards him and stroked Jasper's back, her touch comforting and familiar, “I'm here if you need me, but if you need some time... that's okay too. I've got a lot to learn. There's a lot to figure out.”

Jasper nodded, not trusting himself to speak again yet.

Chloe looked to Annabelle. “You care about him a lot, I can tell.”

Annabelle nodded and swallowed. “Yeah. I, um... I'm sorry, Chloe. Jasper and I... I don't want to keep this from you. We were a... thing, for a while. We have a very close relationship. I don't know if we will still be a thing or not, but...”

Chloe nodded. “It's okay. Like I said, I was... trying to move on too. I can't blame either of you. Five years is a long time.” She gave a little reassuring smile that was tinged with some sadness. She also had tears in her eyes, but hers were clear.

Annabelle was extremely relieved. “I had to give up my old life too and I miss my loved ones so, so much. We... Jasper and I were both lonely... but I... I hope you won't think of it as... cheating?” She was a little afraid to put that word out there, but now that it was, for couldn't take it back.

Chloe sighed, thinking about it. “I don't think so. I think everything is very complicated right now, but... if you two had the type of relationship I think you're talking about... no, I'm not mad. How long ago did you, um... become like this, Annabelle?”

“A few months. It hasn't been that long at all, really.”

“That recent?” Chloe looked surprised.

Annabelle nodded.

“So, are you um... you're not like Jasper, are you like... Eva?”

Annabelle guessed she was referring to the vampire clans. She gave a little laugh and a sniffle. “No, I wish though. Eva is so cool.”

“Yeah... she really is,” Chloe said in a faint, dreamy tone.

“But, um... no. I'm more of a... super strong kind of vampire.”

“How strong?” Chloe asked.

“I can uh,” Annabelle thought of an example. “I can push a really big truck all by myself.”

Chloe's eyes lit up, and Annabelle recognised that excitement. It was the same kind she felt about the more interesting vampire things she had experienced. She had been feeling less and less of that excitement lately. Seeing it in Chloe made Annabelle feel a little strange. Kindred society still felt fairly new to her, but she was quickly gaining experience and losing her naivete. Soon, the same was going to happen to Chloe.

“That's really cool,” Chloe said.

Annabelle shrugged and nodded with a little smile. “Yeah, it, kind of is, but at the same time... if someone offered me a chance to give it up go back to my old life tomorrow, I'd take it.”

Chloe studied Annabelle's face. Annabelle tried to put herself in Chloe's place. What if it had been Elle who had been turned instead of her? Would she, like Elle and like Chloe now, want to be embraced as well to be with her loved one forever? If someone had asked Annabelle that question a year ago, she would have said yes instantly, but now, knowing what she knew about the hunger and the danger and the bullshit politics and the blood... she didn't think she would.

Annabelle looked at Jasper, who was still quiet. He clutched his injured arm to his chest, looking at the ground. He looked guilty and regretful. Annabelle bit her lip, her heart aching for him and everything he had been through and put himself through. She could not bring herself to be mad at him. Not one bit.

“Chloe, if you two... um... if you and Jasper...” Annabelle struggled to voice her thoughts.

“If we... get back together?” Chloe offered.

Jasper looked up at the two of them. He felt like he was being pulled into two different directions. He had never had to choose between two girls before, not like this. For it to be happening now, five years into his existence as a Nosferatu was kind of darkly humorous.

Annabelle nodded. “Yeah. That would... I mean, I would miss him, but that would be okay,” she said sadly. “So long as you both are happy.” Her put her hand over her wrist with Jasper's bracelet around it. She would be devastated, but at the same time, she also wanted Jasper to be happy, and if that meant him being with Chloe instead of with her, then, well... so be it. She always knew that just because she was polyamorous, that didn't mean all of her romantic partners would be okay with multiple partners too. That's always the risk.

“Well... I don't know yet,” Chloe looked to Jasper. “We'll see, I guess.”

Jasper nodded.

Annabelle sighed. “We'll still be friends, at least, right?” she asked.

Jasper nodded again and glanced up at Annabelle. “Of course.”

Regardless of what happened, they still had their Blood Bond. There was no way he could ask Eva, or any of the other Tremere, to help them break it, not after what he had witnessed tonight. If he wanted it gone, it would have to be the old fashioned way of keeping away from Annabelle and not drinking her blood for many months. He didn’t know how long. A year? More?

“But you want some time to... sort things out,” Annabelle said.

“I need some time, yes,” Jasper clarified. “Let me be clear. I... care deeply about both of you, but with everything going on... I don't want to be forced to decide right now. I can't. I...” His voice broke and he snarled, an angry, inhuman sound. He was hungry, tired and in pain. His Beast clawed at his throat and chest, calling for him to rip both of these women apart, love be damned. His body and soul hurt. He was nearing the end of his rope.

Both Chloe and Annabelle looked concerned and both reached out for him. He flinched away. He caught himself flinching and his face crumpled again, ashamed to be afraid of the touch of these two women whom he loved.

“It's okay,” Annabelle said gently.

“Yeah,” Chloe agreed.

“We have time. It's okay,” Annabelle repeated. “You need to rest and heal. Go home. Sleep. Tomorrow night we can...” she glanced at Chloe. “We can talk some more, right? Or, I don't know if...”

“We'll sort something out. I don't know what Eva is planning yet,” Chloe said. She swallowed, upset at Jasper's obvious pain. “I should um... go back up to the Observatory.” She gestured over her shoulder with her thumb and stood up again. “Annabelle... can I trust you to look after him for me?”

Annabelle blinked and bit her lip to stop an uprising of emotion. She nodded. “Of course,” she said with a slight crack in her voice. She also stood up.

“Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid?” Chloe said with a little forced laugh.

Annabelle smiled. “That's hard, but I'll try.”

“Okay, good.” Chloe smiled again bravely at them. Jasper slowly got to his feet, his tired blood working to obey Annabelle's command to go home. “See you tomorrow night,” Chloe said with a little wave.

Jasper and Annabelle waved back and watched Chloe walk over the hill and away. She was wiping her eyes on her sleeve as she went.

Annabelle put her hand slowly on Jasper's good arm. He tensed, like an animal that had been beaten and was expecting another blow to come. “Come on. Let's go,” she said gently.

Jasper walked with Annabelle down to the river and into his sanctum. He didn't say a word. She took him into the bedroom and sat him down on the bed. He sighed, relaxing minutely. He was always a little more at ease in here, despite what was going on in the world around them. Annabelle also sighed. It had been a heavy week.

“So, I guess... this is it?”

Jasper blinked at looked at Annabelle slowly. “How do you mean?”

“Are we...” Annabelle sniffled, “done?”

“I don't know.”

“I don't want to break up,” Annabelle whimpered. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don't want to either.” With extreme hesitation, Jasper reached for her hand with his good one, but paused before touching her. She gave him a watery smile.

“I'm not warded. No wards here.” She took his hand and squeezed it. “So... you're going to take some time?”

Jasper nodded. “Yeah. I've made a huge mess of things and... I need to figure them out.”

“Okay. Yeah.” Annabelle nodded. It made sense and though she was afraid of being alone again, she had to respect his wishes.

Jasper brought Annabelle's hand to his chest. He could sense her resolve starting to crumble. “Whatever happens though... I'll cherish our time that we had together... and I'm sure that we'll make more good memories in the future.”

Annabelle smiled again, weakly. “That's such a cheesy line.”

A tiny smile crept onto Jasper's face. “It's true though. You've made my life considerably better these past few months, and I love you and I thank you for that.”

Annabelle leaned in and gave him a little kiss. “Same.”

For a small, lovely moment, they smiled and touched foreheads.

Annabelle pulled back and watched him as he tried to move his bad arm into a more comfortable position. “You should try to heal that.”

Jasper nodded. “I will but...”

“You need blood?”

“Yeah. Yes please.”

Annabelle wiped her eyes, slipped out of her jacket, rolled up her sleeve and presented Jasper with her wrist. The home made bracelet stood out against her skin. “I'm never going to take this friendship bracelet off, by the way,” she said.

“Good.” Jasper held her arm steady with his right hand and sunk his fangs into the flesh of Annabelle's arm. Annabelle winced and willed her Vitae to flow into him. She was getting used to the pain of the bite. It was always worth it for the good feelings that followed. She sighed as the sweet pleasure flowed through her, making her core quiver and her Beast grumble. She rested a hand on his leg, wanting to touch more of him, but reminding herself to hold back. He needed his space. That meant no more sexy dates with him for a while.

A few seconds later, Jasper licked his cold tongue across her skin and pulled back. He reclined back onto the bed with another wince, shifting to get comfortable. “Thank you, Annabelle,” he mumbled.

She rolled down her sleeve and gave him a little smile. “You're welcome.”

Jasper licked his fangs clean, then gritted them as he tried to heal his scorched arm. Annabelle watched, frowning in concern. Slowly, the blackness disappeared from his upper arm and the flesh on his hand filled out a little. Jasper hissed and grunted in discomfort. “That's all,” he panted. “I can't do any more right now.”

“That's okay,” Annabelle reassured him, though it sounded to him like she was also trying to reassure herself. “You'll be alright.”

She wanted to lay down next to him. He wanted that too. He had grown so used to having her body next to his. Normally, she would not have hesitated, but she was still trying to figure out where she stood in their relationship now. Annabelle checked the time on her phone. “Dawn is like an hour away. Um... I can go, if you want me to.”

Jasper shook his head. “I'd like you to stay. Please? Just for now? I don't think... I should be alone.”

Annabelle bit her lip and nodded. She went around and turned on a few of their battery operated candles. She wiped her eyes again as she did so. She had been holding back the tears for so long, that a few had to escape at some point.

“You can cry if you want to now,” Jasper said from the bed. “It's okay.”

Annabelle grabbed a tissue and crawled into bed alongside him, careful of his injury. He held her with his good arm as she let herself cry.

“I'm sorry... I tried to be strong for you,” she said between faint sobs.

“You were. You still are. All you've ever done is give me strength,” Jasper assured her. He stroked her shoulder.

“We'll be okay though, right? You and me and... Chloe and Eva?”

“I hope so,” Jasper sighed. “We'll... find a way to make it work.”

Annabelle clung to him, crying thick blood tears into her tissue.

She calmed eventually. Jasper was laying still and quiet. Annabelle thought he might have fallen asleep, but his icy eyes were looking at her when she glanced up at his face. “I hope this isn’t the end of us... of this,” she whispered.

“I don't think it will be,” he said softly. “Not the end forever. Sleep now. Things will be okay.”

Annabelle nodded and forced herself to relax into the pillows. Jasper kept his good arm wrapped snugly around her and closed his eyes. The light from the battery candles flickered and danced across the dark walls of the sanctum.

The sun came up. The mortals and ghouls living in L.A. went about their lives, with their own jobs, loves, losses and personal dramas. The Kindred of L.A. slept, their futures and relationships as uncertain as anyone's in the city. It was a new day.

#la by night #l.a. by night #vampire the masquerade #fanfic #fanfiction #jasper/annabelle #jasper/chloe #poor boy is all sad and guilty and confused #times jasper fed from annabelle #this is the end for now #going to be working on other fic so stay tuned #thanks again to everyone who has read and enjoyed!

13 notes · View notes

ikesenhell · 6 years ago

Text

Truce

ALL SHADES OF BLUE, Chapter 2. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTES: This whole piece was inspired in part by this song by Gregory Alan Isakov. This was a LiveWrite!

The only warning he got came in the form of a messenger limping into camp, a slash wound through his calf coloring his shoes crimson.

“We’re under attack,” he gasped, clutching at his ankle. “Date Masamune is nearly upon us.”

The rest of the encampment sprang into action. This was bad news indeed. How many men did the One Eyed Dragon bring? A hundred? A thousand? Kennyo wasn’t so naive to expect that they’d brought any less than it took for total extermination. “How many did you see?”

“Only him.”

That didn’t fall within his expectations. Kennyo considered their position for one long moment. “Have archers take up position around the camp. No one is to engage him except at long range. At the first sign, fill him with arrows.”

“What’s going on?”

Oh hell.

The woman emerged from her hut, bracing a bit of wash under her arm. Of course. It figured that she was the subject of the Date lord’s attentions. More annoyingly, Kennyo knew that winning her over to his philosophy in the heat of the moment was a tall order.

“We’re under attack.”

“Oh really?” Her mouth squared off in a line. “And from who, praytell?”

“Does that matter?” He snarled.

She rolled her eyes and thrust the basket into his arms. Hardly waiting for him to take it, she shoved back her sleeves and marched down the hill. “Yeah, how about I just talk to whoever it is rather than have someone die today?”

Buddha help him. Hers was the most peaceful solution, that much he knew. He hadn’t gone so many decades in a temple to forget that. Still--still--the possibility of bringing down one of Oda Nobunaga’s most favored vassals was too tempting to pass up. Frustrated and tormented and uncertain in turns, he charged after her. “Come back!”

She ignored him and stepped into the trees. Silently he vowed to never take in one of Nobunaga’s people again.

---

It was almost insulting to face against so many untrained bodies. Masamune resorted to using his fists and his tanto, barely breaking a sweat. What was that crazy monk even getting at? If he really meant to use these poor souls as his army, didn’t he understand how many of them would die? Mitsuhide had warned him about the fervor of their devotion. Frankly, he didn’t understand. How devoted could you be to a lost cause? On one hand he admired their faith. On the other hand--

Well, people called him half-blind.

“Hey!”

He swiveled at the greeting, tanto in hand and waiting for a fight. Fortunately for Kennyo, it was exactly who he was looking for.

“Lass!” He sheathed the blade with a chuckle. “Great. There you are. Let’s go.”

He had to admit she was spirited. No one else gave Lord Nobunaga a run for their money as much as her. Their little chatelaine was not so prone to following orders as the others might have liked; in the few days they’d had her, she’d been no end of questions and comments and suggestions, one after the other, each more pointed and suitable than the last. He’d missed the show since her kidnapping (and honestly, how had her assailants even succeeded? It felt hilarious to suggest that anyone could just pick her up and walk away, not with a mouth like that on her).

And then she surprised him yet again.

“I’m not coming.”

He frowned and dug a free finger in his ear, trying to see if he was losing his hearing as well as his sight. “Funny, Kitten.”

“Really. I mean it, Masamune.”

“Now’s not the time for games. You know Nobunaga’s done nothing but whine since his ‘lucky charm’ went missing. We’re all worried about you. Even ‘Yasu!... though I’m pretty sure he’d rather chew off his arm than admit it.”

That got a smile from her. “No. But thanks.”

What the devil was wrong with this woman? Masamune held his tongue and stared her down for a long, long time, trying to get a read on her. Sometimes his men would lose courage in a fight and he could see it there. Not her. No, it looked like she was more prepared for one than ever. “What’s going on, Kitten?”

As if summoned from hell, a singularly deep voice cut between the two of them. “She said ‘no’, Dragon. Or is your hearing as poor as your sight?”

There he was. Masamune considered the possibilities of just stabbing the menace then and there. Kennyo emerged from the woods with his prayer staff in hand (and honestly, that was just insulting to Masamune’s sensibilities), the third angle between the chatelaine and him. For the smallest second he wondered if she was in league with the monk.

“You ass, I can speak for myself.” She shot him a withering stare. “Masamune, really. I mean it. I don’t want to come back.”

Kennyo seemed chastened enough that Masamune almost laughed, so he sheathed his tanto in a display of grace. “Alright. I’ve got a minute to spare, Kitten. Make your case.”

She narrowed her eyes as if to say ‘I don’t have to make a case to you at all’, but apparently she was game enough. “It isn’t like you all didn’t treat me well.”

“Okay. Is it Nobunaga? Did he try something with you? You know if you tell Hideyoshi, he’ll just burst in wherever with a sandal and chastise him. Or hell! I will.” Masamune mimed slapping someone with a shoe. “He won’t break the alliance for that. Or if ‘Yasu was rude to you, I can just put him in a headlock until he apologizes… well, okay, he won’t apologize, but he won’t be rude again.”

She covered her mouth to hide her laugh. Masamune relished the look of utter dismay on the monk’s face.

“No, it’s not that,” she murmured. “I’m really sorry.”

“Are you so serious about bringing her back?” Kennyo asked. Very real surprise lingered in his voice. “What is it about her that Nobunaga simply can’t find in another girl?”

“Oh, you’re just an asshole right now.” She flung a nut at the monk’s head, laughing. It missed. “Look, yeah, I get it, I’m too old to be unmarried, but let me live, right?”

“Gotten attached there?” Masamune snickered. “I can find you a lady if you calm down.”

“I’d rather have your head, Dragon.”

“Chill. Both of you.” She motioned toward them both, finally joining him in the clearing. “We can just talk.”

But now the monk was staring at her. What an expression that was! It was so hard to parse it; he so often expended time figuring out less pleasant faces, faces drawn with conflict and war and tragedy, and this was decidedly not that. He stared long enough that the other man realized he was being watched and scowled.

“If…” Kennyo hesitated. “If they so eagerly want you back, why don’t you return? It seems a far more amenable position for you to be in...”

“Never thought I’d see the day that Kennyo and I were on the same side.” Masamune laughed. “C’mon, Kitten. Really.”

For her part, she glared at the other man. “Throwing me under the bus, ah?”

“‘Bus’?”

“It’s Portuguese for ‘Stop it’.”

“I’m just thinking in your best interests…”

What a weird twist. He watched her face oscillate between contemplation and confusion and annoyance until she turned away, the shaved underside of her head stark against her long locks. “Would you give me a day, Masamune?”

“A day?” He echoed. “Maybe. I dunno. Mitsuhide’ll probably have my head.”

“You can come up with something. I just need to think.”

“You’re putting me in a weird position here, Kitten.” But he inhaled hard. Mitsuhide was just shady enough to not go straight to Nobunaga. Besides, one day? If she reigned and didn’t come with him tomorrow, he certainly had backup--and forewarning on what might happen. He shrugged uncertainly. “I mean, I guess I can.”

“Thanks.” The line of her shoulder softened. That would have to be enough. “I promise I’ll be here tomorrow.”

“Alright. If I don’t see you then?”

“Assume I’m being held against my will or something?”

Masamune shot Kennyo a look before responding, “I dunno, he did just tell you to come with me. I’ll reserve judgement for later.”

“I didn’t--” She inhaled sharply, releasing it only a moment later. “Yeah, that was a bad joke given the circumstances.”

Shoving down the wicked urge to laugh, Masamune bowed to both of them. “See you tomorrow, Kennyo.”

The ex-monk didn’t grace him with a response. He just turned and stalked off into the treeline. Beat getting shot at.

---

She didn’t come to supper. Kennyo feared for a long moment that she’d just left, just abandoned the encampment and run further into the woods, but his fears were allayed when he passed by her hut and saw the wash she’d only just done pinned up and dripping. It didn’t follow that she would do laundry and then leave (especially given that she was the only person in the camp who could wear that style of kimono, though he supposed the men could use it in a pinch). He shoved down the urge to chase after her like a lost child and instead busied himself with the security of the encampment. They would have to move after tomorrow. If Date Masamune knew where they were, then so did the rest of the Oda.

But night fell, and the stars and moon shone bright as a lamp, and she was nowhere to be found.

He considered himself fortunate that he knew the woods as well as he did. He traced her footfalls through the soft moss, down the river and straight to the edge of a cliff. She’d been there for some time. Her knees were bound up around her chest, arms wrapped tight over them, eyes staring unseeing over Azuchi. He’d never bothered to take in the view before. Something about looking made it too… personal.

“Hey.”

“Good evening.”

She quirked her mouth and said nothing more, so he settled in beside her at a safe distance, assuming a lotus pose in the leaves. Chill wind snapped at his face like the threat of his infinite winter and she shivered slightly.

“Cold?” He asked.

“No,” she answered, then followed up with, “Can I tell you something absolutely insane?”

That was never a good way to start. “I’ve been privy to a number of questionable thoughts, so I can only tell you I won’t judge.”

For once her smile wasn’t so pointed. She didn’t seem as rigid in the moonlight; maybe she felt safer in the dark, more obscured from prying eyes and grasping hands, shrouded in something more honest and real than other people. At last he understood that laughing at him, herself, anyone else, was as much about hiding in the daytime as filing the silence.

“I’m not from this time,” she said, and he wondered if he’d heard her right.

“Did you mean ‘place’?”

“No. I meant time.” She didn’t even bother to look at him. “I’m from five hundred years in the future. I was out on a walk and wound up here. I’ve got three months until another pathway to my time opens up, and then I’m gone.”

What was he supposed to say to that? A thousand questions buzzed to the tip of his tongue and fell away in quick succession. How did history remember him? How did history remember Nobunaga? What kind of a world was it? How had the people fared? Yet--yet--he couldn’t bring himself to ask them. It felt like a gateway into a world he wasn’t prepared to face.

“So you’re not Portuguese,” was all he managed, a thin little joke that at least garnered a giggle.

“No. Different continent altogether.”

“Ah.” He didn’t know if he wanted to ask what a ‘continent’ was. “So in three months you’ll be gone?”

“Yeah.” She stared into her hands, watching her fingers flex and curl and roll one at a time. “Cause, you know, I don’t have any of my medication or anything, and that would be pretty trash to deal with all this on my own.” A beat. She motioned at her head. “I have a disease.”

“Is it treatable?”

“Yes, but only in my time. Some of the symptoms include lying in bed for long periods of time, not being able to move, so on. We call it depression.”

“Oh.” What did he even say to that? “I see.”

Wind echoed mournfully against the mountainside below. She shut her eyes and almost leaned into the sound, her whole body absorbed in it. “Want to know the wildest thing?”

“Mmm.”

“I don’t know if I want to go.”

His brain struggled to understand. She had the choice to go home. She had the choice to return, to go back, to rejoin what she knew, to divorce herself of the horrifying reality of this time. “Why?”

She shrugged, a heavy gesture that said more than words. “Because no one there is waiting for me to get back.”

Once more they lapsed into silence. Kennyo wondered if he could slide beside her and brush away that hair of hers, pull it back into the same long ponytail as the rest, ease some of the sorrow that hung around her like a blanket. Once upon a time he knew the balms for a heavy heart: a good ear, warm tea, a sutra, a helping hand. Who was he to administer them now? The same hands he would use to soothe her would just as gladly slit Date Masamune’s throat.

“You should go back to Azuchi,” he murmured.

Her eyes were luminous, but she said nothing. He pressed on. “If no one is waiting for you in your time, then at least you should have the mercy of someone waiting for you here.”

“Not you?” She asked, and he wondered why that hurt so much to hear.

“It is better for you there. When you return home, you can take all the time you spent here in repose and find people who care just as much. It would be safer.”

For a long, long time she said nothing at all. When the darkness grew close and comfortable around them, she leaned in her head and rested it against his broad shoulder.

“Alright,” she whispered. “If you say so.”

---

Masamune came to fetch her without incident. Kennyo almost wanted the fight. He could taste ash and blood and flame on his tongue, taste his hatred for Nobunaga and the dust of his friends from Hongan-Ji, feel the weight of a life ripe for picking before him--

And he did nothing. He let the warlord collect that wild, strange, luminous woman, and pretended not to notice when she gave him a second glance at the bottom of the hill.

---

She wasn’t happy.

It wasn’t as if she’d ever been comfortable, exactly. Masamune recognized an anxious spirit when he saw one. She flitted from job to job with intent hands, the deep, focused crease set hard between her brows. He knew his way around women (for the most part--it wasn’t as if women were all one and the same, that was just insulting), but her? Oh. He couldn’t figure her out at all. Something weighed heavy on her shoulders and evaded him in turn.

“Kitten.” He tapped her nose for attention, thrusting a small plate of mochi under it. “Have some. Smile a little.”

“Do you do that to the men?” She groused, taking one of them anyway.

“Yeah? Ieyasu hates it the most. I swear he’d shave his nose off if he thought it might stop me. Hideyoshi almost cut off my hand for doing it to Nobunaga.”

Now that got a reaction. Her eyes sparkled and she bit into the sweet treat, a rare pleasured gaze swirling in the edges of her mouth. He just stood and watched for a long, long time, soaking it up until she was done.

“Those were good.”

“I’ll make you more if you like.”

“You made those?”

“Yeah. Food is good for morale. Seriously, Kitten, do you want more?”

She clapped off her hands and shook her head. He almost gave up the ghost. Almost.

“Would seeing your creepy monk friend help out?”

Her gaze was nothing short of suspicious. “Why are you offering?”

“Because you seem down and I don’t have a--what was it you accused Nobunaga of having?”

“A murder boner,” she finished, her voice catching enough that he knew she thought it was funny.

“Yeah. That.”

“You definitely do, by the way.”

“I don’t even know what that is, I was just taking a shot in the dark if I’m honest.” At least she was smiling now. It warmed him from toe to tip. “Seriously Lass. I don’t think you’ve got enough information on hand to give anything over to an enemy. So long as he hands you back over at the end of your visits--and given that he just let you walk away last time, I imagine he would--you’re free to do that. Would that help?”

“It might.” She ground her sandal into the ground, shy as he’d ever seen her. “Thanks, Masamune.”

“Anytime, Kitten. Anytime.”

#Ikesen #Ikemen Sengoku #Ikesen Kennyo #Kennyo #Ikesen Masamune #Masamune Date #depressed MC #All Shades Of Blue #ASB #Truce #my writing

75 notes · View notes

cubedcoffeecake · 6 years ago

Text

Unfortunately, That Was Better in Theory

Pairing: gen Drarry

Word Count: ~3200

Beta'd by the AMAZING @drarrytingz. Much love to her. <3 This is the top right corner square of my board for HD Birthday Bash's first challenge, Fic Tac Toe. The picture is of Hogwarts at night, and my brain went right to first year. So, understandably, the Drarry is far from romantic at this point. The story somehow started picking up headcanons as it snowballed down the hill, though, so I have to admit that this is only very loosely based on the actual prompt. Also posted on Ao3. I hope you enjoy!

It was terrifying, sneaking out of the dorms at night. Draco couldn’t fathom why Potter did it so much. Initially, he thought Potter just enjoyed the freedom of it, but this wasn’t freedom. This wasn’t just getting to do whatever you wanted, which was an admittedly pleasing thought. This was knowing that you’d face horrible consequences if anyone saw you—consequences heavy enough to negate any enjoyment. He had a mission, though, and it was a noble one.

From the time Draco was a small child, he had loved dragons. They were mighty, and strong, and beautiful, and special. They were a remnant of the times of wizards past, when dragons were commonly known by both Muggles and magical alike. All of the Ancient Noble Houses claimed some convoluted connection to dragons. They were associated with riches, and with preserving your own. Everything Draco was and wanted to be could be found in a dragon.

Adoring dragons and owning them, however, were very different. Mother and Father encouraged him to admire dragons, but ensured he never forgot that dragons’ most noteworthy trait was their independence. They did not share their hoard. They did not fly with others. They were great, but they were solitary. They had neither masters nor friends. Dragons were meant to be remembered and respected, but admired from afar. Owning one was a preposterous concept that disregarded and denied dragons their independence, and always ended poorly for the foolish “owner.” Draco wanted to be like a dragon, but he knew not to want one.

Hagrid, however, was a fool. No matter how great the creature, he always believed that he could be both their owner and their friend. As if dragons had either! “Raising a dragon egg” was an insult!

Draco had known the moment he heard of this travesty that he had to put a stop to it. The authorities would kill it, though, and dragon reserves were too scrupulous for the appearance of a random dragon egg not to arouse suspicion. Draco had to find a way to alert the professors. Surely, they would take the matter to the school board, and Father would ensure the dragon was given sanctuary! It was the only way everything would work out. The only problem was, Draco had to catch Potter with the egg, or Hagrid would have a chance to hide it, which would only cause more trouble.

In Draco’s mind, using Potter’s own nightly stint against him would work perfectly. Aside from the minor rule-breaking on his part, this was a chance for everything to go smoothly.

Chances meant nothing, as it turned out. The dragon was now beyond Draco’s help and he had not only broken the rules, but also fallen for Potter’s ruse and was, therefore, a fool. Professor Snape may have believed him, but whether or not Draco was in the right would not matter to Father. He had been caught. No matter how wonderful your intentions, they’re meaningless if you’re caught.

A Malfoy had not received detention in four generations, and no Malfoy had ever been in a detention as severe as Draco’s. No Malfoy had ever lost Slytherin as many points at once as Draco had, and many Malfoys had not lost that many points during their entire time at Hogwarts. Many, Draco thought, was more likely most. Though Father was softening the blows a bit in his letters, Draco knew the underlying message was true.

He had been at Hogwarts for less than a semester, and had already sullied his family name—the one thing he was trying hardest not to do. So, as frustrated and worried as Draco was leading up to his detention, he knew he deserved it, at least to some extent. Though he was giving Vincent and Gregory an earful about the unfairness of it all, Draco knew it was more unpleasant than unfair.

Well, that’s what Draco had thought before learning that he would be entering the Forbidden Forest. There was nothing fair about that. Had Father known? Surely, this must be illegal!

The bushes crackled, and Draco jumped. He had read all about the kinds of creatures that occupied the Forest, and heard of the lesser known ones from Father. Draco used to believe the Forbidden Forest would be similar to the ones he enjoyed exploring on the Malfoy lands, but they were in fact extremely different. Malfoy forests had mice and nice little rat snakes, swift and shining, but ultimately harmless. There were owls and hawks and songbirds, toads and beetles and worms, buzzing insects he knew better as potion ingredients, deer, foxes, and some other harmless small creatures. Few things magical, though, outside of a few benign creatures and plants also commonly used in potions.

In the Forbidden Forest, though….

As Draco trudged along by Potter and his Gryffindor cronies, his mind was filled with visions of werewolves and centaurs and too-big cats with too-big teeth, and twisted magical versions of foxes that worked in packs to disorient you and then eat you, and fish with teeth as long as his fingers, and poisonous toads, vicious disease-bearing insects, deadly flora, and whatever was apparently killing unicorns, some unknown monster beyond imagination that no one knew how to combat. Draco had been afraid many times in his life, but he had never been so acutely afraid of his own death before. His only solace was that Hagrid, brute that he was, might be a more desirous food source for whatever they’d encounter. Perhaps Draco would have time to run while it ate him. He could grab Potter, too, maybe, drag him with him. Even gits like Potter didn’t really deserve a death that terrible. As long as it got to Hagrid first….

No, but of course, Draco was paired with Potter while the other two got Hagrid and a feral dog that was as likely to attack them as anything of the Forest. He’d changed his mind. Potter could die as horribly as he wanted, Draco was just going to run.

Unfortunately, running worked better in theory than in practice.

Yes, of course, Draco and Potter encountered the unicorn-killing beast. Humanoid, horrifying, and looking like it would eat them next. And of course, Draco followed his plan and ran, leaving Potter to be eaten first.

It was faster, though—so much faster. Which would’ve been all right, as it did indeed go straight for Potter, but…

Draco had gotten into this mess because he cared too much. He could pretend to be as logical and cold-hearted and calculating as could be asked of him, but in reality, he was willing to break a school rule and endanger his own status to save a dragon. Draco couldn’t just leave Potter behind at the mercy of that… that… thing.

He stopped, and he turned around, and he tried to think of the strongest, nastiest curse he’d ever heard Father cast. Not an Unspeakable, Draco knew you couldn’t cast those until you were older… not anything that would mess with the mind, who knew if it even had one…but it needed to cause extreme physical harm…

Too long! He was thinking too much! It had grabbed Potter by the neck, and now he was screaming, screaming, screaming. Draco couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but there was blood everywhere, both red, human blood and the priceless silvery unicorn blood already turning black as he watched. Why was he still just watching? It was reaching its other hand up; it was going to snap Potter’s neck, oh Merlin, he was going to watch someone die. Merlin Merlin Merlin, where was Fang? How could Draco do anything if the terrifying hellhound had fled?!

There was a sound, echoing over Potter’s screams. Laughter. It was laughing as it reached to snap Potter’s neck, and… that was it. Rage overpowered Draco’s terror. He didn’t know what he incanted, or if he spoke at all. He simply cast, wildly, and it looked up at him, but his magic was faster than even its reflexes, and Draco’s magic launched it across the clearing with an inhuman howl. It hit the ground by the unicorn with a crunch.

Draco paused for a moment as what he’d just done sunk in.. He’d… he’d attacked it. Oh Merlin, it was going to wake up and kill them both now!

“Potter!” he cried, running forward. “Potter, get up! We have to go now, before it comes back over!”

“I—what?” Potter started to sit up as Draco reached him, but his eyes were dazed and unfocused. With a grimace, Draco guessed that Potter probably wouldn’t be okay enough to think for a while. Hopefully, he was just recovering from the lack of oxygen; if he was concussed, Draco likely would not be able to help him escape the Forest in time.

“Look here, Potter. You are going to do exactly what I say, and you’re going to do it quickly, and we’re going to live. Yes? Yes?!”

“Yes! I—okay,” Potter stuttered.

That was enough answer for Draco, who grabbed Potter’s arm and pulled up. He couldn’t hear any noise from the clearing, which wasn’t nearly as reassuring as it should have been. Potter scrambled to comply with Draco’s tugs, and together they got him upright. Immediately, Draco started pulling them into a run toward where he thought the edge of the Forest probably was...hopefully. Potter stumbled more than ran, but Draco’s vice-like grip kept him upright and moving.

“Where are—do we have a plan? Or are we just running?” Potter huffed after a minute, beginning to run more on his own power than Draco’s. He seemed far too calm for the situation; Draco was so scared he couldn’t articulate an answer. After a moment, Potter must have realized this, as he suddenly started yelling for Hagrid’s mutt, which… was actually brilliant. Draco joined in with the yelling. The unicorn killer was probably on their tail already—though Draco couldn’t bring himself to look back and check.

There was a sharp crack to their right, and Draco gasped. At the same moment that Fang leaped through the bushes, Draco lost his footing and fell, his ankle cracking more sharply than the twigs Fang had snapped.

“Fang! Thank Merlin, he can show us the way—oh no, Malfoy?!”

A distant part of his head registered that someone—Potter, probably—was speaking, but Draco couldn’t focus on it. All he could feel was the shooting pain in his lower leg, the thudding of his heart, the lightness in his head, and the soft but solid ground under him. His eyes drifted shut, and he let out a shallow breath. Draco could feel himself losing consciousness, but wasn’t fighting it, until he felt a hand on his shoulder, distracting him from the pain and his heart and his breathing, and bringing the terrified begging, “Please don’t pass out, Malfoy, please, I don’t know what to do—” into focus.

Potter, he realized. I—I have to get up. I have to get up. He doesn’t know what to do. I have to get up. Draco’s breath rushed back to him, and he pushed himself off the ground just enough to roll over, wincing at the pain that shot through his leg.

“Oh, thank Merlin! Malfoy, are you alright? I don’t know where it is, but it can’t be too far behind us, just enough that Fang isn’t scared, I think—oh—oh—your ankle… it shouldn’t bend like that.” Potter sounded like he might be green in the face.

“Brilliant, Potter,” he groused, “but I did notice.” For once Potter didn’t rise to the bait.

“You’re gonna—we’re gonna need to find somewhere to hide, for the night, and then we can have Fang lead us out in the morning, I—I can help you walk, I think….”

“No! Well, I… I…” Draco didn’t have a better idea. “Okay.”

“O—Okay. Yeah. Here, let’s just, I’ll drag you under those bushes over there. Yeah. Can I grab under your arms?”

“I suppose.”

“Alright… here we go… I’ve got you… Ouch, you’re heavier than you look!”

“Are you calling me fat?! Now, here?!”

“No!”

“Maybe you’re just weak.”

“I am not! How could you—can you not? For one minute?!”

“Not what? Point out your stupidity?”

“Yes! I mean, no! I’m not stupid—”

Suddenly, Fang whined, and both boys gasped and fell silent. Potter nearly dropped Draco as he quickly looked around. There were a bunch of glowing eyes in the trees behind them.

“Oh Merlin—we’re going! Help me, please, if you can?” Potter said quickly, sounding panicked. Draco’s heart was pounding again, and he tried to use his uninjured leg to push himself along.

The eyes disappeared for a moment, just to suddenly reappear all around them. Everywhere. Draco screamed.

Draco thought he’d woken up, for a moment, but all he could see were faint, swimming lights. Dull ones, at that. His body felt weightless, with some kind of light pressure all over. He drifted away—no, he couldn’t have, he’d never been awake in the first place.

When he awoke again, however, it was to pain and screaming. His pain, not his screaming. Harry…Harry’s screaming. Potter. Oh, Merlin.

Eyes shooting open, Draco gasped as he blurrily surveyed his surroundings. There was movement everywhere, and Potter was still screaming—though it sounded more like a battle cry than Draco thought his ever had. Looking closer… oh.

Spiders. All of the movement was from spiders. Huge, hairy spiders that were all revolving around Potter, who…

Well, Potter was just curled against a tree, and when Draco realized there was a giant snake separating him from the spiders… he fainted. Not from terror, of course; it was entirely due to his injuries. He’d swear it later. Injured, remember? Ankle.

“Malfoy. Malfoy! Are you in there? Please, please wake up… I don’t… I don’t know what I’ll… you cannot die. Do you hear me?!”

“Of course I hear you, you never shut up,” Draco mumbled. Then he paused. “Wait.”

“I’ll explain everything! Just, whoa, I don’t think… that you can—should! That you should stand yet,” Potter stuttered as Draco tried to push himself upright.

“I—” Draco had too little leverage. He didn’t know what was going on at all. He’d been in the Forest… with Potter… unicorn-eater… spiders. Giant snake. “Yes. Explain. Everything. Now.”

Potter looked disbelieving and exasperated. Good. Draco shouldn’t be the only one miserable here.

“So… we were both, um, attacked by spiders? Really big ones. I think they attacked us. But yeah, we—I, woke up in a spider web… cocoon? All wrapped up in silk. And I was… well I didn’t have my wand, so… powerless, I guess. Couldn’t do anything.

“I just started crying for help as loudly as I could. I called for Fang, and Hagrid, and McGonagall…even Snape, eventually. I thought he might care about you enough to look, and all. But no one answered or anything, so I started calling for anyone to help us, please, and all of a sudden I heard someone! They answered! Something about hearing a speaker, and that being rare or something, and that they’d save me! I mean, us; I insisted they save us both….”

“A… mysterious voice. Agreed to save you.”

“Us!”

“Uh huh.”

“It did!”

“Oh, so go on. How was I saved by this wonderful voice?”

Potter appeared to be full of righteous indignation for his friend, the disembodied voice. “They cut us free from the spiders’ ropes! And then chased off the spiders!” Wait. Wait.

“Potter...was this disembodied voice a giant snake?!”

Potter froze. “You… woke up during that?” he asked tentatively, starting to… blush? “I swear, Malfoy, I was just screaming because I was disoriented. I grabbed you as soon as I realized what was going on!”

“You talked to a snake! Do you know what that means?”

“I’m not as stupid as you thought I was?”

“You’re a Parselmouth!” Draco screeched.

“Can you at least stick with insults I understand?” Potter complained.

“No, you utter imbecile! Being able to speak Parseltongue is a blood-given magical ability passed down in the most powerful descendants of Salazar Slytherin, that allows the witch or wizard to speak to snakes—and some variations of dragon—and cast some spells wandlessly because it is a distilled language of literal magic! You don’t learn it, can’t learn it, but if you speak it, you automatically know everything about it! Perfect grammar, full vocabulary… Potter, you being a Parselmouth means you are the greatest Slytherin to grace Hogwarts’ halls since… I don’t even know! Slytherin himself, perhaps! The Dark Lord was also a Parselmouth, but you’ve bested him, which makes you a stronger Parselmouth, and… Merlin.” Draco gasped in a few breaths and stared dazedly at a tree. He now knew a Parselmouth. He’d been saved from giant spiders in the Forbidden Forest by a Parselmouth. He’d…

“But… I’m a Gryffindor!”

He’d forgotten that Potter was also stupid.

“That’s your personality, not your magic identity,” Draco recited. “I don’t remember the rest of that drivel, it’s in Hogwarts: A History somewhere, but it’s a true bit. I’d hate to room with you or Weasley, but all that means is that I like a quiet, clean dorm room, not that I can never do a brave thing, or be bold. They have nothing to do with each other. No, Potter, you’re definitely a Parselmouth.” Draco was gazing dreamily again.

Potter’s jaw hung open for a moment, and he seemed insulted, for some reason, but Draco went on, not paying him much attention.

“Parselmouths have a unique advantage over ordinary wizards, just like Metamorphmagi, for example. Most known Parselmouths have either become hermits, so they can live peacefully with mostly snakes and natural magic for their company, or have become strong leaders of something or another. In those cases, they’re usually untouchable because the level of servitude they receive from serpents makes it terrifying to even think of assassinating them…”

“Stop!”

Draco jumped and looked over at Potter.

“I don’t even want to know how you know this much about this stuff, but all I’m hearing is you spouting off facts about people who are…” Potter’s voice was trembling. “Who are not me, and are not stuck in the Forbidden Forest with another injured person. Yeah, I talked to a snake, they saved us from the spiders, but from now on, we’re on our own. All that about… greatness? Was that the moral of the story? That can wait. Right now, we need to live.”

At first Draco was hurt, a feeling that soon became offense. Moral?! He wasn’t a bloody Gryffindor! Potter had a great gift! He was equipping him with knowledge, as a fellow Slytherin! That hadn’t been Potter’s point, though. As soon as his ankle was mentioned, the pain in it returned with a vengeance, and Draco faced the truth. Potter was right. They must escape the Forest, and they must do it quickly.

“It’s… it’s morning light right now. You were right, a few minutes ago,” Draco said softly, “Headmaster Dumbledore will be sending out professors soon to look for us. We should be alright, if we can stay awake...are you...injured? Should I try to wrap anything?” Though the offer was extended awkwardly, Draco did it anyway. This was no longer just another ignorant, Muggle-raised peer. Potter was going to be great.

#oneshot #my post #drarry #hogwarts era #harry potter #draco malfoy #first year #fic tac toe #hp #fanfiction #short story #preslash

35 notes · View notes

formerprincess · 6 years ago

Text

Our little paradise

Fandom: Teen Wolf Pairing: Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken Words: 3118 Theo and Liam just enjoy a quiet afternoon after work. Just the two of them, no interruptions, and Theo could not be happier.

Also read on Ao3

Theo walked into the workshop and his nostrils flared when the familiar scent of gasoline, grease, sweat, and metal hit them. It was a scent he grew to like since he lived right above the workshop. He associated it with home, something Theo had not known for a long time. But things had changed since then, since he had come back to Beacon Hills to find a way into Scott McCall’s pack and destroy it from the inside, since the Dread Doctors, the Wild Hunt, the war. He had friends now, a pack even, and together they had graduated high school and even attended the same college. Yes, he, Theo Raeken, was part of something that wasn’t evil, wasn’t created to destroy something else. He was part of something good.

Good. Life was truly good, maybe even perfect, at the moment. Sure, there were still supernatural shenanigans happening, there were still hunters, and sometimes Scott had to call his gang together to defeat whatever came lurking, but they mostly had a regular life.

“I wasn’t aware you’re working as a pizza delivery guy now but I won’t complain either and gladly accept this. Just put the pizza here,” a deep voice shook Theo from his thoughts and he turned his head. The guy, Mojo, bigger than Theo himself (yes Theo was aware he wasn’t the tallest but this guy probably was taller than Derek Hale and twice as broad) with a buzz cut and a lightning bold shaved to the side of his head smirked at him. Theo had no idea how old Mojo really was, his guess would be 31/32 but really, it was just a guess. But Mojo was like a human teddy bear and incredibly funny. A woman with her brunette hair tied in a messy bun smirked and the corner of her eyes crinkled. “I’m sure this is just a bribe to let his other half leave earlier.” “Neither. This is our dinner and I will fight you both for this pizza,” Theo declared and grinned. “Yet, if you would let him leave earlier, Kiki…” The woman pointed a finger at him in a playful threat. “You’re getting way too sneaky, mister!” She laughed. “But who am I to get between guys and their dinner? He’s over there, showering his one true love with attention.” “I’m his one true love,” Theo reminded her with a chuckle but turned around again and ventured into the direction Kiki had pointed him. It wasn’t long until he reached the end of the bike shop and smiled at the picture in front of him.

Over the years Theo had not only found friendship and a place to belong, he had also found love. And that from a side he never expected it from in the beginning. Because if someone had told eighteen-year-old him he would be in love with Liam Dunbar, Scott’s angry Baby Beta, and they would be in a committed relationship, he would have laughed. Yes, Liam and he had become friends, but love? Even if Theo might have nursed a little crush on the younger man, Liam would have never returned his feelings. And yet, one of their many discussions had ended with Liam huffing out a breath and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I want to strangle you almost as much as I want to kiss you, asshole,” he had said and Theo was not proud of it but he had gaped at him. Liam had given him a funny look but then obviously registered what he had said because he started to gesticulate wildly and tried to explain himself. “Oh fuck! I didn’t want to tell you like that! This is not how I pictured it!” “You want to kiss me?” Theo had asked weakly and Liam groaned and his hand movements contained Theo’s whole appearance. “Can you blame me? You have this going on.” It had hurt to know Liam was attracted to him just based on his looks while Theo really fell in love with Liam’s everything, his looks as well as his good heart, but he had nodded and put on a brave face. “So you want sex.” Liam had shrugged. “Sex, dates, a relationship, the usual stuff, you know?” And again, Theo had gaped which caused Liam to roll his eyes. “Seriously? I’m aware I’m bad with words but I thought I made myself very clear right now. I am not only attracted to you because you’re hotter than the sun, but I also feel very attracted to your character and would very much like to date you. Stop staring at me like a freaking goldfish. Turn me down so we can go on with our normal lives and I can crawl into a hole and die of mortification.”

Theo’s brain had not functioned properly because he would have loved to tell Liam how amazing he was, how happy this made Theo, and waxed poetically about the other’s whole self, but he just had managed a weak “Yes.” “Yes, what?” Liam had asked. “Yes to the date. To all of it, really.” They had stared at each other, Liam with narrowed eyes while he tried to figure out if Theo was joking or not, Theo still trying to figure out what the hell happened. Long story short, both overcame the initial shock of the sudden reveal and had decided to try this relationship thing with each other.

Fast forward two, almost three, years and you had them today. Still absolutely in love, living together in the apartment right above the motorcycle workshop Liam worked in. Life could not be better for Theo at the moment: An amazing boyfriend, a cool apartment, and a job where he could be creative and express himself through his art. They had to thank Liam’s grandpa for finding this little piece of home. After his death, Liam had come in contact with his grandfather’s best friend Rod who owned the workshop. They had met to reminisce the man they both had held so dear and Rod had inducted Liam to the world of motorcycle and workshops, repair, and tunings, and also the joy of riding one of those steel horses. Ilona Geyer had not been overly excited to see her son on such a thing but after she realized how happy Liam was to ride a motorcycle she had caved in and smiled. The people working in the shop had taken a great liking to Liam- he was an adorable puppy when he wanted to be - and had soon become part of his family. Kiki and her husband Jay had taken over the shop when Rod had retired and offered Liam a job in their shop. Liam could do what he liked, work with the motorcycles and also work on his own motorcycle, a blue Harley Davidson Fat Boy, on the side, what else could be better. And Theo found a job at the tattoo parlor right next to the workshop. His boss Bean (“My name is Gregory but nobody calls me that! It’s Bean.”) was also a friend of Rod, Kiki, and the others and he and Theo talked often. He saw some of Theo’s drawings one day and offered to take him in as an apprentice. Theo had not really thought about doing a creative job but he took the chance because he was curious. And now he was a quite popular artist in the shop, had his regulars, and loved what he was doing. Tattoos were a way for people to express themselves and he loved to help them with it a little bit.

Several tattoos adorned his own body as well, the newest piece being a Dias de Los Muertos woman on his right shoulder blade. Liam had suggested that one special tattoo after Theo had awoken from yet another nightmare. He had said he liked the Mexican holiday and the thought that the dead were never that far away and instead watched over their families. His boyfriend had suggested it would help Theo cope with the lingering guilt about Tara’s death and see a slightly more positive outlook on death, maybe even the hope to once get the chance to make up with his sister. Theo had battled the thought for weeks, going over the pros and cons, and finally decided to do it. He now loved the ink on his skin.

He wasn’t the only one with tattoos on his skin. Liam, for example, had also taken quite a liking to the ink art. The head of a howling wolf on his leg, and several other motifs on his arms and back. The first two tattoos had been done by Bean but the rest, every single one after that, had been done by Theo. There was something about Liam not only wearing something he drew but something he inked on Liam’s skin. It gave him a strange sense of possessiveness and belonging.

Liam’s style had changed in general since the first time Theo met him. He wasn’t looking like America’s sweetheart anymore, not like the typical jock, but his style had become a bit rougher around the edges. Ripped jeans, leather jackets, punk shirts, and due to his work in the bike shop, more tanks, and flannels. It wasn’t unusual to find him with dirt and grease on his hands and on his face and the smell of gasoline and grease always merged with his natural scent. Theo was here for that, he loved his boyfriend looking like that. Liam’s hair was shorter these days, shorter than it had been in high school, but the manual work had given him a new body feeling and since he often worked outside and mostly in a tank, he had a nice tan going on. He looked ridiculously hot if you asked Theo but maybe he was a little biased (He, after all, knew what Liam could do with this body...)

When he found Liam now, the younger male knelt in front of his motorcycle and oiled it. He wore a white loose fitting tank top and dark jeans, littered with oil stains. It had been a bit colder in the morning so Liam had worn a white-red flannel shirt which was now wrapped around his waist. He had not spotted Theo yet, too focused on his task, and Theo smirked. He was like that when it came to tattoos. “I’m aware you love this thing a lot but I brought pizza.”

Liam looked up and smiled when he saw Theo. “Hey, you.” His blue eyes sparkled with happiness and he grabbed the cloth next to him to clean his fingers. “How could I say No to pizza?” “Just to pizza? Not spending time with me? I am hurt, Liam.” “I know I will never say No to spending time with you.” Liam stepped closer to Theo and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Stop being a drama king.” Theo pouted playfully. “Only if I get a real kiss.” “I am greasy and sweaty.” Liam laughed and it coaxed a happy smile from Theo. “Liam, we literally kissed when we were bloodied and full of Gargoyle slime. This will be half as bad.” “Okay.” Liam grinned and then captured Theo’s lips with his in a sweet kiss. Even after three years, it made Theo happy and he eagerly returned the kiss. “Come on, Kiki said you could leave,” he then told his boyfriend and motioned towards the back door of the shop. It was the fastest way to get to their apartment instead of walking around the whole garage. “Yeah, leave before you start making out on Liam’s bike like the last time!” Kiki called from somewhere and the two young men snickered. Liam threw his rag in a container. “See you tomorrow, guys!” He yelled and then left the workshop with Theo.

They reached their apartment over some stairs and Liam unlocked the door. The space above the shop had originally not even been an apartment, more like some unused space. Theo and Liam had taken a lot of time and effort to turn it into a loft-like apartment where they could actually live. It was big enough for the two of them and their two Tamaskan dogs Aka and Koda who now came to greet them happily and then returned to chewing their favorite toys. The apartment even held space enough in case they ever wanted to add another member to their family and adopt a child, but that was something they had not discussed yet and didn’t feel the need to at the moment. They were not even married yet and enjoyed their time together.

“I’m taking a quick shower, you can already start eating,” Liam muttered and pressed a quick kiss against Theo’s cheek when he walked towards the bathroom. The door closed behind him and Theo carried the pizza box into the kitchen to grabbed two glasses and two beers from the fridge and then carry everything out to their little balcony. It wasn’t big, but they had two comfortable benches with soft pillows and a little table gathered there to sit and enjoy summer nights. Even a little barbecue had found its place in a corner. The whole balcony was surrounded by plants. It had started with Liam’s mom giving them one plant when they finally moved into their apartment, and then Liam had claimed one looked like shit. Over time they had gathered various things to make the banister a little friendlier. It looked like a little green oasis in the middle of a meek and otherwise empty backyard.

Theo set everything down on the table and then just ventured into the apartment and the bedroom to change into comfortable sweatpants. When he walked back to the balcony, he plopped down on one bench and sighed. He opened the pizza box and both beers and took a slice of the greasy food. It smelled delicious and was just as tasty as you would think after you smelled it. It made his mouth water and he eagerly took a bite from his slice. Liam wouldn’t mind, he knew Theo hated cold pizza. Chewing he leaned back and enjoyed the rays of the evening sun on his face. The perfect way to end the day.

Liam joined him some minutes later, hair still wet and disheveled from the towel, clad in sweatpants and a hoodie. He sat down on the other bench and leaned back with a groan, stretched out. Theo chuckled. “Long day?” “Uh uh. We had a very demanding customer and you know I love challenges but that guy was really a bit too much and constantly changed things.” He scrubbed his hands down his face and then made grabby hands at the pizza. Theo nudged the box closer to him and watched his boyfriend devour a slice fastly. “That should be unattractive. Strangely, it’s not.” Liam gave him a pearly grin. “You find everything I do attractive,” he stated simply and raised one of the beer bottles. “Cheers.” “Not everything but a lot. Cheers.” Theo raised the other bottle and clinked them together. They both took a gulp from their bottles almost perfectly in sync and grinned. Over the course of their relationship they had grown so close, got to know each other on a whole new level, and those quiet moments felt really nice. They didn’t need to talk, just sitting there an enjoying the sun, finishing the pizza up between the two of them, and sipping their beer was enough to make them both happy and relax them both.

Theo liked the silence with Liam. He also liked the talks he had with him, don’t get him wrong. He liked Liam’s voice, could spend hours hearing him talk about the things that excited him, but he liked how easy this was as well. He didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with words and he felt himself relax. Theo had always used words as a tool, something to use to get what he wanted in every regard, and he had strongly related to them at the beginning of their, well, everything. He had used his words against Liam, used them to rile him up and manipulate him, but then they had grown closer and words became not necessary anymore. They learned to rely on each other without words, learned to fight together without talking about a tactic before, learned how to be a team without saying much. Again, talking with Liam was great, but Theo had been afraid of the silence for years and Liam helped him overcome it, so now he could also enjoy the silence with his boyfriend.

Liam moved after a while and squeezed the empty pizza box until it got smaller. He got up and carried the trash into the kitchen to throw the box away. Theo smirked. They both weren’t the tidiest people on the earth but Theo hated empty pizza boxes lying around so Liam has picked up the habit of throwing them away as fast as possible. It was a nice gestured and another one of the many little things Liam did to show Theo how much he loved him.

He walked back but instead of walking back to the bench he had sat before, he walked towards Theo’s bench. Theo moved so Liam could slip behind him and Theo could lean against his chest. Liam’s arms loosely wrapped around him and played with his fingers. Theo tilted his head back and looked at Liam and the younger smiled but understood. He moved closer and gave Theo a gentle upside down kiss. Both chuckled in the end and then Theo curled up against Liam again and held his face into the sun. “I love you,” Liam muttered and gently tugged at Theo’s hair with one hand. Theo moaned softly and let his head fell back against Liam’s shoulder. “I love you too,” Theo replied softly. A huff next to him and Aka trotted into the sun and laid down there again. Koda chewed a bit more on his toy then he grabbed it and carried it outside as well to lay down next to Aka and continue playing.

Liam kissed his temple, then he leaned back and watched the sun shining down on them and creating various forms on the wooden floor of the balcony and on the plants. “Our little paradise,” he said happily. Theo chuckled. “Our little paradise,” he agreed. It wasn’t a mansion, it wasn’t that much, but it was perfect for them and Theo was once again reminded life was pretty much perfect right now.

Just something cute to enjoy the evening. I am really curious how you liked that little story. I just love the idea of mechanic Liam and tattoo artist Theo and the rest just happened. What do you say? Any comments/hopes/wishes/dreams? I'm thinking about making this a series and always adding random ficlets to it.

#thiam #My writing #Ink & Gasoline series

12 notes · View notes

redknight3996 · 5 years ago

Text

A Summer Shanty, Part 3

~3~

Gregory Louis Morgan stumbled on his front porch. His ears were still ringing and he blinked tears from his eyes. His breathing was heavy and he couldn’t even hear it.

“Why is this happening to me?” he finally moaned, clutching at his racing heart. His skin felt hot.

Good God, why was this happening to him? He just wanted to relax. He earned that, hadn’t he? He–

There was a limousine parked in front of his house, on his lawn. That...wasn’t possible. He lived on top of a hill. There was a gate! He hadn’t let anyone in! This wasn’t fair!

“P-Please...please just leave me alone,” he murmured, trying desperately to ignore the blinking of his watch. He knew, if he looked, it would say 3AM. “I’ve...I’ve learned my lesson! I-I’ll...I’ll donate to charity! Many charities! All over the world! I can hold fundraisers a-and take care of orphans and send money to...to welfare states! I can do that! I-I have the money! I don’t-”

There were two men standing in front of the limousine. Both were in black suits and were wearing black sunglasses and both of them had gray skin.

“...Please. I don’t want to do this. You can’t just make me!” He looked back at his house and of course it was gone. All he could see was the night sky.

He tried to steady himself and looked back at the two men. One held up a sign between his hands. It was white, and it said ‘Morgan’ in perfect, black cursive.

“...I-Is this really necessary? I’ve learned my lesson. I have. Please.”

The other man opened the limousine door. He had a ‘W’ printed on his forehead. The other man had an ‘I’. The man by the door gestured towards the limousine’s interior, all entirely pitch-black.

“...” Was that it then? But, God, what choice did he even have? He couldn’t run from these things. They would hurt him. He was sure of it.

With heavy steps, Morgan walked to the limo. He entered it, and sat in the lush seats, sinking back into the startlingly comfortable cushions as the man closed the door behind him.

The interior of the limo was surprisingly comfortable all around, and it had an actually quite pleasant mix of blacks, dark violets and indigos lending it a very cozy, pleasant feeling. But that wasn’t what really caught his eye.

Sitting directly across from him, right in front of the window separating the driver from the passengers, was yet another woman. She was...startling.

The woman’s skin was a pitch-black, darker than any he’d ever seen, like petroleum or vantablack. She was closer to the white woman than the red one in that regard. Everything about her body, from her tightly braided hair framing her narrow face to her long nails to her completely black eyes were all the same shade but startlingly defined. She looked so real, but so impossible at the same time…

The woman crossed her long legs, her feet wrapped in stiletto heels, and leaned back, allowing him to stare at her like she was a queen to be awed over. And she did look stunning…

A long, flowing evening gown covered her body from the neck down, baring her shoulders and slit at its sides to leave her legs unbound. Black earrings dangled from her ears, black lace gloves covered her arms up to the elbows...she looked so different from the other two. Where the others had been disconcerting and terrifying, she seemed to radiate grace and beauty, wealth and taste, immeasurable poise that put her a far step above either of those horrors.

And then there was her mouth. The first woman had been missing her eyes. The second woman had been missing her ears. The third had her mouth sewn shut. Black threads looped through her lips, sealing them shut in a permanent smile.

But the woman didn’t seem bothered by her disfigurement. She was just staring at him with completely black eyes, smiling.

“...Ah...hello.” Morgan shifted slightly in his seat. The car had started pulling out at some point. He could feel it moving around as the drivers maneuvered their way off of his lawn.

The woman remained silent. Of course she would, she clearly couldn’t speak.

“A-Ahem.” Morgan cleared his throat. “You would be Famine then, correct?”

The woman nodded.

“Of course. Of course, I did put that together...the first one was Pestilence, the second was War, and that must make you Famine. The fourth is Death. Will I...Will I be meeting…’her’ as well?” God, he hoped not.

Famine shrugged, tapping idly on an armrest.

“...So, what now then? We just...You can’t speak. What sort of torment am I supposed to go through now then? I can’t listen to you lecture me.” He glanced out the window for a moment. They were driving now, down some road. He couldn’t see much out there, just passing streetlights. Were they on a highway?

He looked back and blinked. There was a scale next to Famine. The armrest was wider, more like a table, and there was a large balance measuring scale next to her, two small bowls hanging from chains on either side of it.

“...What is that supposed to be?”

Famine ignored him, reached into a bag in her lap that hadn’t been there before, and pulled out a handful of seeds. Sunflower seeds.

One by one, she dropped seeds into the further bowl of the scale, the left side. Seven seeds dropped and she let the rest spill onto the carpet of the limo before she sat back.

The scale was drooping to its left side now.

Morgan blinked. That seemed oddly familiar, like something he’d seen in a documentary once.

“What is this supposed to be then? I know you can’t speak, but just presenting me with a scale doesn’t help me.”

Famine tilted her head, her eyes creasing upward in amusement, then she tapped her mouth with two fingers. She then pointed both at him, moved them back and tapped her mouth again, then pointed at him again.

“You want me to talk?” She nodded. “I...about what?”

She just shrugged.

Morgan’s brown creased. “I...fine, I think I can understand what you want here. The first woman, Pestilence, she was rambling on about healthcare and pharmaceuticals, then War was...er...she was talking about...freedoms, and oil, and...the military-industrial complex. Of course. So then you would be agriculture and food, right?”

Famine seemed to smile a little wider.

“Fine then. Agriculture…” There was a way out of this. He was the one setting the pace of the conversation this time, so he just needed to say what she wanted to hear. “Hm. Well, I can admit the food industry as a whole is irredeemably horrible. They, er, keep animals in terrible conditions and slaughter them in inhumane-”

The empty side of the scale dropped slightly.

“-condi...why did that just...Ah, no, um, what I meant to say was that they’re horribly wasteful. Did you know they throw out thousands of pounds or...tons, or something of food every day? Often for minor issues with appearance! And then there are the restaurants, particularly fast food, that just throw out so much food instead of...giving them to the homeless! It’s despicable when you think of all those poor orphans in Africa going-”

Morgan stopped himself and looked out the window. He saw something. Something out of the corner of his eye.

“...Ah. My point is, um...their standards are...you understand, a good deal of it is due to issues with government regulation-”

The scale dropped again. It was still higher than the one with the seeds on it but it was visibly lower.

“I-What? It-Look, you have to admit the government has problems! You can’t trust it, every ‘aid’ program they have is ultimately just designed to give them more power over us! Over the natural citizens-”

It dropped lower.

“-of-What?! I’m just-I’m telling you what I think! I’m sharing my damn opinion! Do you hear those people who insist on building themselves a damn nanny state? They want to be catered to for doing nothing! Things like education and health aren’t rights, they’re–No, no, I know what-I am not going to fall into some stupid trap and say something to...It’s not true. They...They’ll say that we, my party, the men I fina-support, that we deliberately sabotage the government to prove ourselves right but it’s not true!”

And the scale dropped lower. It was still high, but so close to halfway mark.

“I-I can-Fine, I can talk about other things! I can prove that I learned my lessons! You-War said that...She was talking about how war is-no, not-My point is that yes! Yes, the military-industrial complex, the defense industry, the private military contractors, they’re all bastards! Every last one of them is a greedy sadist looking to profit off of the abuses of American soldiers and the deaths of foreign civilians! They pump out propaganda, Hollywood works right alongside them, all so they can pretend war is heroic! They’re dragging this country through the mud so they can indulge in their fetishes for glory! So why aren’t they here?!

“Why am I the only one being punished like this!? What have I done that’s so wrong?! All my life, I worked to get where I-”

It dropped lower, hit the halfway mark and Morgan choked like a drowning man.

“That-Th-That...That wasn’t-I’m not lying! Is that-Is it supposed to be dropping every time I lie!? I haven’t-”

There it was again. Out in the dark and he looked this time and saw things out there. Humanoid figures. He couldn’t see any part of them. They were completely covered in shadows, except for their eyes, and their mouths. Their open mouths, baring teeth as they stared at him with bloodshot eyes.

“W-What? What are...What are those things…?”

There were buildings all around them now, and he could see the creatures standing on the sidewalks, just staring. Some seemed to smile, some stared in visible disgust, others in pure hatred and all of them were baring their teeth.

Morgan looked back to the black woman, tried to stare straight ahead and ignore what lurked outside. “I-I...I can...ph-pharmaceuticals. Yes, I...D-Did you know they keep raising the prices of life saving medicines like insulin? They’re willing to let people die of completely...c-completely…”

He slowly swallowed. Famine still smiled. “I-I...They, um...Reagan, he let...s-so many people die. We just...th-the news media, it’s all...same broadcasting companies, just...They glorified him after the fact, a-acted like he was the perfect man when he was a shill and crook and God in heaven would have hated him-”

He shook his head, tried to breathe. Were they getting closer? “A-And...I can admit, I can admit, that the...the anti-vaccination people, they’re all idiots, they believe a discredited quack who wanted to sell his own version of it, killing their own children at the word of a snake oil salesman so they can–A-And the NRA, they’re all vile, they just take bribe after bribe to discredit restrictions and I know the men who bribe them! I can give you their names! I could give you-I could give you the name of every man and woman you could ever want! The most-The richest people on the planet! They’re all-I’m not like them-”

It dropped past the halfway point.

“N-No, no! P-Put that back up! M-Move it back up! I’m not like them! I-I-I’m learning! I’ve learned, I’ve-I’m not just saying this-”

It dropped lower. He could see teeth in the corner of his eye.

“NO! No, no, no, I can-Please, I could-You don’t understand! I’m a billionaire! I have-I have more money than any of those idiots out there could ever dream of! The homeless, the middle class, the, uh, the working poor, whatever they call them, I could buy all of them! The entire population! I have more money than there are people in the US! I could-I could buy every castle in Europe and have money left over! I could-I could do so much more! You can’t just-I can’t-

“PLEASE! You don’t understand! I’m a-I’m an important man! I matter-”

It dropped even lower, further than it had before.

“Ghk-! P-P-Please! I could-I can-What do you want?! You’re-You’re someone who wants money, right!? You-I can-Pollution! Fine, I can admit that! I can admit, I’m in oil, I’m in coal, I KNOW! I know we’re killing the planet! We pretended that it was all a hoax! We profitted because people were convinced we had to be right! We suckered a succession of idiots into thinking they need life-ending jobs in terrible conditions because of tradition! Because it was all they ever knew! They made it mythical, glorious, important because we convinced them that’s the way it had to be!

“I know, I was there! I was there, along the way, I know just how-We’re not evil! We’re not! Why is it wrong to try to help yourself!? It’s not my fault if people buy what I sell! I-No, if anything, America’s the damn con man to begin with! The land of the free is bullshit! We all know it! We play along because it benefits us! We play along with everything because it benefits us! That’s how it is!

“Do you really think there are anyone out there that actually believes in religion?! Do you really think anyone believes in race?! In sex, in purity, in anything!? NO! We all play along because that’s how life fucking works! Only the stupid actually fall for these platitudes we pump out day by day and we have the GODDAMN RIGHT TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THAT!”

And the scale clattered against the table.

Morgan was standing over Famine. He’d been shouting down at her, spit flying from his mouth. She was spotless. He was soaked with sweat as he stared, woodenly, at the scale. The empty bowl had dropped fully.

“...N-No...N-N-No, w-wait-”

Famine stood and he fell back, landing hard on the floor of the limo, a splash coming up around him. The black liquid soaked into his clothes and clung to his skin, the sharp reek of tar filling the air as Famine loomed over him.

She took the seeds from the scale, the bowls staying perfectly in place, and crushed them in her hand. When she opened her palm, dust poured from it.

Morgan just stared at Famine, who stared evenly back, silent as ever. Then she leaned towards him and extended a hand.

He didn’t want to take it. He wanted to stand on his own feet, but the tar was clinging to him, holding him down. He couldn’t get out of it, he couldn’t even sit up, so-

He took her hand and she pulled him up easily. And then her smile seemed almost kindly and she petted him. Her dark hand ruffled his hair, then caressed his cheek.

“W-What...what are you doing?” he asked, his voice quiet and hoarse. His throat hurt. He’d expected something. Some horror up close.

But no. She was the same as before. Black as pitch, her eyes shining as deep pools of tar, and her mouth sewn shut.

Famine patted his cheek, her touch light and affectionate, then she placed a dusty hand on his stomach and roughly shoved him back. This time, when he fell, he sunk.

#short story #political #horror #a summer shanty #anti-capitalism #fiction #my stories #my writing #famine

0 notes

edith-finch · 7 years ago

Text

#1 - Deaths

Major Spoilers under cut.

So of the deaths are very straightforward / easy to assume what happened. But some not so much.

(I want to make a point about self-fulling destiny and how the Finch's all predicted their deaths.)

My theory for,

Molly:

Maybe her diary entry was just simply dream? And the real reason she died was that she eat the berries in her bathroom; the looked like mistletoe to me. // Or she chocked on something in her eating frenzy?

Calvin:

The impact of the fall into the shallow, rocky water; nothing more nothing less. (Or maybe he couldn’t swim with that broken leg?)

Barbra:

She was killed by a crazed fan / a group of crazed fans? Maybe Rick did it? Only Walter would know.

Walter:

No guessing, the train. // Wait, if you go back, the tracts aren’t there. Maybe erosion of the island?

Sam:

Known with out doubt, he was bucked off the hill into the shallow rocky water. (Also the guy was obsessed with shooting: both film and guns.)

Gregory:

Nope, I’m to busy already crying for this.

Gus:

Damn, Mister angry emo, “he’d be dead before a wedding in our yard”. Either he died by whirling derby or his kite was shot with lighting; he was wearing a metal bracelet, after all.

Milton:

His “Magic Paintbrush” flip book is unfinished, he literately just leaves out of a door. Maybe in his 11-year-old mind by running he saved himself from the curse?

Lewis:

Older brother who went mental after Milton went missing. He blamed him self, picked up pot to easy the pain. When that wasn’t enough he started to imagine a better life. Maybe his death was suicide, or maybe he was just so lost in his mind it that he really did die via accident.

Edith Sr. :

“The next mourning she was gone.”

Dawn:

Known, sickness.

Edith Jr. :

The only reasonable thing is to assume if she died with out leaving the house was childbirth? How else would her kid be alive?

#What Remains Of Edith Finch #wroef #wroef spoliers

38 notes · View notes

officergrimes-daddydixon · 8 years ago

Text

The Walking Dead part two

Note: I hope you enjoy this one! it has a little more about the readers background, The reader a dark secret that she doesn’t want the group knowing. Things between the reader and Daryl will pick up in the next one!!

warning: Violence, blood

part one —————————————————————————————————-

You woke up with your head feeling fuzzy. You raised your arm to touch the lump that had grown on the back of your head. It would die down soon, you thought. You looked to the side and saw a glass of water which you guzzled down in one gulp. Rick and Daryl must have taken you back to their community. Shit, you were out cold when they brought you here, you would have to be sneaky in order to find a way out.

You slowly rose from the mattress on the floor and silently moved throughout the house, noticing no one was inside. You snatched a cereal bar from the counter and shoved it in your pocket for the road. You weren’t leaving just yet though, you needed to check the place out. You stealthily made your way around the place these people called home. You saw they were running short on supplies, but their armoury was full, they had more guns thnt people, you assumed by the amount of people you saw walking around the place. When you were done scoping the area out you went to look for Rick.

You entered all the houses you came across but didn’t find Rick. You internally congratulated yourself when you finally entered one house that had Ricks shoes and blue shirt laying on the sofa. You snooped around downstairs first, taking anything that you thought your group might need. Then, you waited on the stairs for Rick to wake up. Time had passed and you pulled out the cereal bar you found earlier. As soon as you bit into the snack a voice came from behind you.

“What are you doing in our house?”

The voice was soft, young. You only turned your head a tiny bit and you saw a boy standing in the doorframe holding a gun to you.

“Well, I’m eating a cereal bar while waiting for your dad to wake up” You said as you continued to chew the food.

“How did you know he was my dad?” the boy asked, gun still pointing at you.

“I didn’t” you smiled at him. “Be a lamb and go wake him up for me”

You turned back around and finished off the rest of your bar when the front door slammed open, Daryl, followed by an Asian looking man, came running up the stairs, guns held directly at you. At that moment, Rick, his son and some lady came from above you.

“It’s alright” Rick said to Daryl and the other man, making them lower their guns.

“We need to talk Rick” You said, shoving the wrapper in your pocket. ****

You all sat around a table discussing trade deals and negotiations. You found out that the Asian guy was Glenn, and he had a wife called Maggie. There was also Carl, who was Ricks son and Michonne, ricks girlfriend.

“I had a quick look around earlier, noticed you guys are running low on supplies” you said, leaning back in your chair.

“That’s cause you messed with our truck yesterday” Daryl said

“Look, we got off to a bad start, you guys didn’t look good, and that was a wrong assumption on my part” you replied, indirectly apologising for stealing the truck.

“How come you didn’t just leave this morning. You said you wanted to talk” Rick brought the conversation back on topic.

“Back at my place, we got lots of food” you said. “And you guys look like you could use some help with that”

“Do you grow?” Maggie asked you, curiosity on her face.

“We grow, we scavenge, we have a well, and we trade”

“You trade? So, there’s others out there?”

You smiled at how innocent these people were, they had no clue about anything. You didn’t know if this would be a good thing, or a bad thing.

“Guys, your world is about to turn upside down” you smiled at them. ****

You’ve been walking with the group for miles now. Rick and the rest of the group wanted to know more about trading of the supplies. You had finally gotten up the long part of the hill and the hard part was now over, now it was flat land.

“This place is isolated” Rick said.

You looked around at the miles and miles of trees that surrounded the area you were in, he was right. It was best to keep yourself isolated nowadays. It was safer.

“Here we are” you said as you approached tall wooden fences.

“Hey! Stop!”

You looked up to see two people on guard above the wall. You heard the clicks of guns behind you and you turned to see everyone had raised their weapons up.

“Woah guys, you don’t need-” you were cut off.

“(Y/n)! Who are these people?”

“Dave, John, it’s okay. They just wanna see Gregory” you put your hand up to them to stop them from throwing the spears down at Ricks group.

“They aren’t coming in with those” Dave nodded his head at the weapons.

“Rick, put the guns down” You turned to the group.

“I aint leaving these outside” he growled.

“Just lower them. Come on, I trusted you guys, why don’t you trust me?”

Rick hesitated before lowering his gun, the rest followed.

The men opened the gates and you all walked in. You could hear the gasps from the group as they saw the house on the hill.

“Welcome to hilltop!” you said, walking backwards and opening your arms out to the place.

“Damn” you heard Daryl mutter and you smirked at him.

You showed them around your groups small village-like place and once you reached the house you were greeted by your brother.

“Hey Paul!” you said, giving him a quick hug.

“Gregory won’t be happy” you brother said, looking Ricks group up and down.

“What do you mean?” Rick asked. “He won’t be happy about what?”

“You’re dirty” You and your brother said simultaneously.

The group looked between themselves and then you spoke. “Where are my manners? This is my brother Paul. Everyone calls him Jesus though, I’m sure you can see why” you laughed as your brother shot you an amused look. He had hair that dropped just below his shoulder and a beard that actually made him look like Jesus Christ. The group cracked a smile as you said that and your brother walked away, leaving you alone with the group again.

You opened the big doors that led to the main entrance of the mansion. Everything inside was classy and in place, nothing looked dirty, except Ricks group.

“Gregory!” you shouted out.

The group was looking around and admiring the place when the wooden doors that led to the main office creaked open. Gregory stood behind them.

“(Y/n)!” he pulled you into a hug. “Who do you have here?” Gregory gave the group a worried look as their dirty shoes were ruining the carpet.

“This is Rick. He’s from a similar community to us- Alexandria” you said, taking a step back to let Rick and the group introduce themselves.

“I was hoping we could talk. Looks like you could use some weapons, we have it. And you have food” Rick said.

“How about you get cleaned up first”

The whole room froze as Gregory said that. You could feel the tension that grew between Ricks group and him.

“We’re good, thank you” Rick forced a smile.

“No really. It’s hard to keep this place clean-”

“Gregory” you interrupted. “Don’t be anal”

You heard Daryl laugh but you ignored it, tying to act like you didn’t hear. “It’ll be quick, they just wanna talk trade”

“Fine. But only one person, I don’t want my office getting dirty” Gregory said as he eyed the now slightly dirty carpet in the main hall.

“Maggie?” Rick asked, “You wanna go in there?”

Maggie hesitated for a moment and then nodded her head, following Gregory inside.

You were waiting for about 15 minutes when you leaned back on the wall and watched Ricks group. They were all staring into space, all of them had the same look of trauma in their eyes, they had probably been through so much. Your eyes involuntarily gazed over to Daryl. He wasn’t the type of guy you’d usually go for. He was dirty, his hair was matted and he looked like he hadn’t changed clothes in ages. But despite that, you couldn’t help but take a liking to him. You liked the way his blue eyes were prominent against his tanned face, he carried a gruff look which you weirdly liked and the thin layer of sweat over his muscles made you like him more. And he was quiet and you liked that, he had an element of mystery to him, like the layers of a Russian doll. You would make it your mission to uncover those layers.

You suddenly blinked out of thought when you realised Daryl was now staring right at you. You had been staring at him for a while now, but you were so deep in thought you never saw him looking back at you. You quickly darted your eyes to the floor and you could feel your cheeks heat up. What the hell was going on with you? you asked yourself. Why where you acting shy? You shook your head and ran a hand over your face.

“They’re taking long in there” you said to the group, just before the wooden doors opened once again and Gregory walked out, followed by Maggie.

“So?” Rick immediately stood up and so did the rest of the group.

“We give some of our weapons, they give some of their food” Maggie smiled.

The rest of the group had smiles on their faces at the thought of having food at Alexandria. You smiled as well and then you walked the group outside. You were ready to walk the group back home when the wooden gates opened, four men from your group entering.

“Where’s Gregory?” Bob asked you. He looked scared.

“He’s inside-”

“I’m here” you were cut off by Gregory who was now walking out the house.

“Boss, it wasn’t enough” he said.

“What do you mean it wasn’t enough? Did you tell them that was all we could find?” Gregory had lowered his voice now. Shit, the saviours weren’t happy.

“I did, and Negan wanted me to deliver a message” Bob placed his hand on Gregory’s shoulder and you knew what was about to happen. He lifted his arm and sunk a knife into Gregory’s stomach, blood immediately soaking his white shirt.

Your eyes grew wide and you watched everything in slow motion. Rick went for Bob, and Daryl quickly ran to Rick’s defence as one of your other group members went to attack him. You stood still and wandered which side to help. You wanted Rick’s group to trust you but your loyalty was meant to be with the Hilltop. You looked at Rick who was being helped by the lady called Michonne, and then you looked to Daryl. He was on the floor, one of your men’s hands was wrapped around his throat. Your legs moved before you could even think about what you were doing. You ran as fast as you could and you jumped forward, tackling the man who was on Daryl. You both rolled around on the floor and you were throwing punches left, right and centre. That was until the man was able to get on top of you and shove your shoulders into the ground.

“Where is your loyalty?” he shouted at you.

You struggled under his grip, refusing to answer him. His fingers were digging into you when you heard the slice of knife on skin. You froze as blood started trickling onto your face and neck, getting in your mouth. You pushed him off you, his body now limp as he lay dead on the floor, his throat slit. You looked to your left and saw Daryl standing there, the knife in his hand and anger on his face.

“You alright?” he asked, helping you up.

“I’m fine” you grunted, out of breath. You hated that Daryl had to save you, you never relied on anyone and you didn’t like that feeling.

You looked around and saw Bob was dead on the floor as well.

“Guys stop!” your brother shouted. “This is madness, Rick put your gun down!”

You looked at Rick who had his gun aimed at Layla, she held up a spear at him as well. Rick lowered his gun and eventually she did too. Then, your brother looked to you.

“Take them back (y/n)” he said. You clearly saw the disappointment in his face at what you’d done.

“Let’s not act like these guys were the best thing that’s happened to us. They were a constant danger to us, and today they showed that” You shouted to everyone, pointing at Gregory who was now being carried into the house by the nurses. You then turned to you brother.

“I’m done here Paul. I’m done with the never-ending threats from Negan! He’s killing more and more of you every day. And you might be next, so tell him I’m dead!” you shouted.

“(Y/n)” he said, hurt in his voice.

“I’m going back with Rick. At least they don’t have to deal with this shit.”

“What shit?” Rick interrupted.

“I’ll explain on the way” you replied. You walked over to your brother and hugged him. “Be safe” you said,

“Are you being serious? You can’t leave, they won’t believe me” he whispered, not wanting Rick’s group to hear.

“I’m done with everyone risking their lives for me. Just tell them I was bit by a walker and you burnt my body. Just focus on getting their supplies, not protecting me”

“What if-”

“What if nothing. They won’t find me with Ricks group. He won’t take me back Paul, I promise” You brought your brother in for a tighter hug before you pulled away and walked off to Ricks group.

“What was that about?” Daryl asked as you all walked out of the Hilltop gates.

“Just saying goodbye” you smiled.

He grunted in response and you carried on walking. How the hell where you gonna tell them about Negan, the man who would make their lives even more of a living hell. —————————————————————————————————-

Tags: @yellowtheremarvelfan @blondielovesr5-blog @fxckyofav

#daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl fanfiction #norman reedus #twd jesus #rick grimes #michonne #glenn and maggie #maggie rhee #glenn rhee #the hilltop #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead #twd fanfiction #twd family #twd season 6 #twd

80 notes · View notes