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magicaththedemigod · 3 years

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an extensive analysis of “the song of achilles” by madeline miller

Or: things I noticed and couldn't keep to myself.

Because I just finished reading it and have many feelings about it, I've decided to compile all of them into a very lengthy Tumblr post.

This will be broken up into three parts:

1. Foreshadowing

2. Dramatic (and regular) Irony

3. Fatal Flaws

1. Foreshadowing

Miller does such a delightful job with foreshadowing. The number of quotes I could be spitting at you right now... but I digress. The main job of foreshadowing, especially in a tragedy like "The Song of Achilles," is to set the characters up for their tragedy.

What I like most about how Miller goes about it in this book is that she doesn't attempt to pull a shocking twist out of nowhere; instead, she takes an approach which allows the reader to fully marinate in their despair.

For example, this quote:

Achilles shook his head, impatiently. "But this was a greater punishment for her. It was not fair of them." "There is no law that gods must be fair, Achilles," Chiron said. "And perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone. Do you think?"

Let's take a moment and unpack some of this. For context, this is a conversation between Patroclus, Achilles, and their mentor Chiron. They're discussing the tale of Heracles, who's driven to madness and ends up killing his own wife and kids.

From reading the book, (SPOILER ALERT) you know that Achilles' own pride and honor end up forcing Patroclus to impersonate him in order to save the Greek army, and in doing so is killed by Hector. The fact that Chiron directs this question, "And perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone. Do you think?" to Achilles, who is left behind after Patroclus' death is such delightful foreshadowing that I almost threw the book across the room when I first read it.

Achilles slumps into such a depression after Patroclus dies (really, after he kills Patroclus with his own fatal flaw), that he even loses the ability to care about his fame or honor anymore. He feels the greater grief, so to speak.

Even after he dies, Patroclus is left behind, unable to rest properly because they never put his name on the tomb. In that sense, Patroclus is then the one left behind, experiencing loneliness and grief.

The book is full of little hints like this, and that's part of why it's almost torture to read as someone who knows how the Iliad goes. As I said before: the foreshadowing in this book is meant to have the reader in pain from the beginning because you know nothing is going to work out in the end.

2. Dramatic (and regular) Irony

Yes, that's right. I'm about to rip into your soul.

Probably one of the biggest parts of classical Greek myths is dramatic irony (the audience knowing something the characters don't). In plays, the ending is almost always announced before the play begins. In fact, the audience most likely already knows the story from previous tellings or just general knowledge. It makes sense that it would be one of the biggest players in "The Song of Achilles."

As usual, let's start with a quote:

His eyes opened. "Name one hero who was happy." I considered. Heracles went mad and killed his family; Theseus lost his bride and father; Jason's children and new wife were murdered by his old; Bellerophon killed the Chimera but was crippled by the fall from Pegasus' back. "You can't." He was sitting up now, leaning forward. "I can't." "I know. They never let you be famous and happy." He lifted an eyebrow. "I'll tell you a secret." "Tell me." I loved it when he was like this. "I'm going to be the first." He took my palm and held it to his. "Swear it." "Why me?" "Because you're the reason. Swear it." "I swear it," I said, lost in the high color of his cheeks, the flame in his eyes. "I swear it," he echoed. We sat like that a moment, hands touching. He grinned. "I feel like I could eat the world raw."

First of all: cute. Second of all: wow, so much pain.

As you know, Achilles is the opposite of happy at the end of the book (well, maybe after they die, but we'll get to that later). Though he swears it here with Patroclus, the two of them make decisions that ultimately lead to their downfall: Achilles decides to abandon the Greeks after they slighted his honor, Patroclus decides to help them even if it means risking his life, and Achilles lets him do it.

So let's talk about dramatic irony. The irony here is that you know, maybe just from this exchange alone, that Achilles isn't going to be the first happy hero. You know there is a war coming, know that Achilles and his famous heel will get himself killed. You might also know at this point that Patroclus will die first and send Achilles spiraling into grief before that happens.

It's painful, truly. Achilles spends his last days in utter agony, wanting to die but unable to kill himself, and Patroclus can only watch on as a ghost (spirit?). Even when Achilles does die and his ashes are put into their urn (seriously, how did any scholar ever think they weren't lovers?), they still have to wait to be reunited.

But there's still more. Consider these lines:

Hector's eyes are wide, but he will run no longer. He says, "Grant me this. Give my body to my family, when you have killed me." Achilles makes a sound like choking. "There are no bargains between lions and men. I will kill you and eat you raw."

Sound familiar? That's right: "I will kill you and eat you raw" sounds an awful lot like "I feel like I could eat the world raw," doesn't it? Another parallel from Miller: one from a time of happiness, the other from a time of extreme grief. However painful it is, I really live for connections like that.

And I've got one more for you:

Achilles shook his head. "Never. He is brave and strong, but that is all. He would break against Hector like water on a rock. So. It is me, or no one." "You will not do it." I tried not to let it sound like begging. "No." He was quiet a moment. "But I can see it. That's the strange thing. Like in a dream. I can see myself throwing the spear, see him fall. I walk up to the body and stand over it." Dread rose in my chest. I took a breath, forced it away. "And then what?" "That's the strangest of all. I look down at his blood and know my death is coming. But in the dream I do not mind. What I feel, most of all, is relief." "Do you think it can be prophecy?" The questions seemed to make him self-conscious. He shook his head. "No. I think it is nothing at all. A daydream." I forced my voice to match his in lightness. "I'm sure you're right. After all, Hector hasn't done anything to you."

See where I'm going with this? I don't think I need to explain this one.

3. Fatal Flaws

That's right, one of the most essential pieces for a tragedy: hamartia. For those who might not know, hamartia is the fatal flaw that ultimately leads to the downfall of a tragic hero or heroine. In every single piece of classical greek writing, if the story is a tragedy, the main character will have a fatal flaw that makes it so.

Take Achilles:

I looked at the stone of his face, and despaired. “If you love me-”

“No!” His face was stiff with tension. “I cannot! If I yield, Agamemnon can dishonor me whenever he wishes. The kings will not respect me, nor the men!” He was breathless, as though he had run far. “Do you think I wish them all to die? But I cannot. I cannot! I will not let them take this from me!”

You probably already know what his fatal flaw is: pride. He needs the fame, needs the glorious memory of his deeds to live on forever, so badly that he is willing to sacrifice his life and what might’ve been a fulfilling and long life with Patroclus out of the limelight. His fatal flaw is what spurs each of his actions in the later half of the book, including the moment where he decides to leave the Greeks to their deaths for slandering him.

Even Patroclus has a fatal flaw: his love for Achilles.

That night I lay in bed beside Achilles. His face is innocent, sleep-smoothed and sweetly boyish. I love to see it. This is his truest self, earnest and guileless, full of mischief but without malice. He is lost in Agamemnon and Odysseus’ wily double meanings, their lies and games of power. They have confounded him, tied him to a stake and baited him. I stroke the soft skin of his forehead. I would untie him if I could. If he would let me.

Though riding into the center of the fighting, especially dressed as Achilles, will make Patroclus the prime target, he decides to do it anyway. And not out of fear for Achilles’s life; he knows how important his pride and reputation is to him, and out of desperation will do anything to keep Achilles from being devastated when it doesn’t work out for him.

(Honestly, this is the part where I start to hate Achilles for doing this to Patroclus... it’s like he doesn’t even consider Patroclus his equal and does everything without consulting him.)

Of course, Agamemnon has a fatal flaw as well. He is like the mirror image of Achilles, so proud and stubborn, righteous and arrogant. However, he is the darker image, the one that revels in taking things by force and, of course, raping women like Briseis. He serves as a poignant foil for Achilles, highlighting all the ways the traits they share can easily become corrupted. It’s part of why this novel works so well.

I hope you all enjoyed this book as much as I did. Truthfully, I did have a few problems with it, but I wanted to trying picking it apart anyway. And if you haven’t read the song of achilles... what are you doing reading these spoilers??

#why can you visibly see where i get tired #achilles #greek myth aesthetic #analysis #patroclus #song of achilles #greece #greek posts #not the language though #this is so long #effort #first time ive ever wanted to write an essay #dark academia #dark acadamia aesthetic #this took me three days #greek mythology #iliad #homer

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lonelyreputation · 4 years

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Twenty-Four Hours

a/n: Hello!!! I’m back again with some more fluff!! Yay! Not even a touch of angst 😌 In this little piece of writing we have Fiancé!Shawn!! Enjoy! ALSO major thanks to @saysweartogod-og who came up with this idea when I was at a loss at how not make this prompt a cliché of saying bye to Shawn before he leaves for a tour!! Emily always showing up with her creative ideas😌😌

Also, all your nice words make me cry 🥺I love reading your thoughts!! THANKS A MILLION FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT! 💞😊

REQUEST: Pulling away from a hug that you wish would last longer

Let’s Chat!! | MASTERLIST

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 3.2K

With a wedding, there comes a lot of traditions. The bridal shower, bachelor and bachelorette parties, picking out that one dress that feels magical, rehearsal dinners, and the old wives tale of not being able to see your future spouse twenty-four hours before you walk down the aisle.

A whole twenty-four hours.

It was insane really, you had friends who had just gone the night before their wedding without seeing their future and they seemed to be doing just fine. But your mom got yourself stuck in your head with traditions this and traditions that. You didn’t know how much you believed in the myth that your marriage with Shawn would be doomed before it started if you saw him before your wedding. But you weren’t willing to take the chance. Just in case.

You had spent the day with Shawn and the bridal party, enjoying each other’s company like you did when you were teenagers. There were a lot of drinking games involved that you barely participated in, but would partner up with Shawn if he gazed at you with gentle, pleading eyes. It was going to be a long marriage if you couldn’t start saying no to him.

With having an early afternoon ceremony, it was the night before your twenty-four hours would go into effect, the last night you would spend with Shawn as his fiancé. It was a curious feeling; definitely one of excitement because you would finally be able to call Shawn your husband. But a bit odd because the more you thought about it, the more you realized that nothing would really change. You two already lived together, already had sex, and already acted like a married couple. The only change would be your last name and the extra band on your left hand that would leave your skin considerably paler than the rest.

You had just finished getting ready for bed and looked at the time. It was nearing ten o’clock and you had about fourteen hours left with Shawn until the twenty-four hour rule would come into effect. Spending a whole day a part from him seemed like torture, but it was a small price to pay for a lifetime with him.

The sound of the toilet flushing and the sink running brought you out of your thoughts. You were curled into the hotel room’s duvet when Shawn appeared shirtless from the bathroom, sweatpants hanging on his hips. He turned off the bathroom light and then made his way to the front of the room to turn all of the lights in the room off.

The darkness blanketed the room like the duvet weighing you down, but soon enough, the duvet lifted slightly off your body and you felt the mattress dip down. Shawn inched his way closer to you so you were able to feel his breath hit your face, “Hi.”

You let out a small laugh, “Hey there.”

Before you knew it, Shawn’s strong arms reached out and pulled you in close to him. A loud laugh escaped through your lips as Shawn nuzzled his head into your shoulder and pressed soft kisses on your neck. You were so content with your life right now; every heartbreak you went through before Shawn, every heartbreak you went through with Shawn…everything led you to this moment, laying in bed, with Shawn as your fiancé, feeling like everything was perfect.

“So close,” Shawn mumbled into your shoulder before he brought his head up to look at you. His face was so close to yours that you could see the excitement in his eyes, even through the pitch black, “Can’t we just elope? I wanna be able to call you my wife right now.”

You let out a laugh as you brought a hand up to his face, brushing away some of his curls, “I think both of our parents would murder us if they weren’t there.”

“Fair point,” Shawn fell back onto the mattress with a thump. The warmth that radiated off him caused you to close your eyes and scoot closer to the heat of his chest, “It’s just so close.”

You nodded her head against his chest, “Just a little over a day now.”

“And you want to do that twenty-four hour thing?”

“I mean, yeah,” you lifted your fingertips up to his stomach and started lightly drawing shapes, “Don’t want to jeopardize anything.”

He let out a deep breath, “If you really want to…” He sounded hesitant on the tradition and you poked his chest until he offered up more information, “It’s just––I think it’s a bit silly is all. We’ve been together for years, and supposedly not seeing each other for twenty-four hours will make or break our marriage?”

“We’ve gone longer without seeing each other before,” you alluded to all the times Shawn had gone on tour and you wouldn’t see him for months, “and besides,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Just think about how exciting it’ll be to see me walking down the aisle.”

A fond smile crossed over his face as he brought a hand behind his head, “I’ve been dreaming about that for years now.”

A smile lit up on your face, much like Shawn’s, when the two of you thought about meeting each other at the end of the aisle. Like him, you had been dreaming of that moment for years now, probably longer than he has.

Your dreams were full of him standing with his back to yours, styled up in a sharp black tuxedo, as Brian stood by his side whispering in his ear how breathtaking you looked walking down the aisle. You could already feel it in your stomach, the giddiness mixed with the nerves that came with walking down the aisle toward a new future with the person you would love forever.

And as you fell asleep in Shawn’s arms, you dreamed of the hydrangeas lined up by the pews, the blue charm bracelet Shawn gifted to you on your first Valentine’s Day together that would be clasped around your wrist, and the look on Shawn’s face when you two were finally able to look at each other after twenty-four hours.

A dream soon to be a reality.

•••

The morning you woke up you were already wishing that you stuck to only not seeing Shawn the night before your wedding instead of the full twenty-four hours. The realization came to you when you woke up before him and lifted your head up to see him slightly snoring, one hand on his stomach as his chest moved up and down, with the corners of his lips turned upright.

Your heart ached that you were going to have to go a full day without seeing him. But you already had your rehearsal ceremony and dinner last night, so there was no excuse to have a gathering of people again.

Shawn woke up not long after you, a lazy smile on his face as he pecked your lips after saying one word that made your insides explode; tomorrow. You didn’t want to go down to the morning breakfast that was being held somewhere in the hotel for just you and your wedding guests. You wanted to spend all the time you could with your future husband.

The moment just after the two of you were fully awake were spent in silence, enjoying each other’s presence, snuggled up under the covers. It wasn’t until you were both texted by each of your mother’s requesting your presence in the breakfast room before all of the guests started showing up. Reluctantly, you two trudged to the bathroom, getting ready side by side.

You followed Shawn out of the room and reached for his hand after he pressed the down arrow for the elevator. You leaned into his side and rested your head on his arm, wanting to be as close to him as possible with your time ticking down. When the elevator came, the two of you silently stepped in as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

Even after years together, butterflies still erupted in your stomach after every gesture of affection Shawn made, and you knew that it would still ring true when you’re seventy and graying.

Thankfully, the elevator didn’t make any stops to pick anyone up, so you continued to enjoy Shawn’s company in silence. When the elevator dropped you off at the lobby, you quickly walked past the glass doors, a few screams erupting for Shawn were faintly heard, and while he would normally go out and say hi to his fans, you were his only priority for the next few days.

Once you were in the private room that held the breakfast, you saw a few family members already sitting down and eating. When your mom and Karen saw the two of you walk in, they took their napkins off their laps and walked to you with beaming smiles.

“There are the love birds,” your mom said in a sing-song voice, “How was your last night together as fiancés?”

“Relaxing,” you said as you pulled away from Karen’s hug, “We were both exhausted so we passed out.”

“Likely story,” Aaliyah said with a smirk as she passed your little group with a plate of scrambled eggs and an assortment of breakfast meat.

“Aaliyah,” Karen reprimanded her daughter, as you and Shawn both let out an awkward laugh, “If they said they fell asleep, then they fell asleep.” Karen’s hard stare on her daughter softened when she turned to face you and Shawn, “I hope you two just slept.”

“Mom,” Shawn whined as you felt your face reddened, the carpet becoming more interesting than either of your mother’s questioning gazes.

You piped up, “I swear we just slept.”

Karen patted your cheek, “Oh, honey, I believe you,” she gave you a warm smile, one that gave off the impression that she had accepted you into the family a long time ago, “I believe you more than this one,” she jabbed her thumb over at her son, which only caused him to whine even more.

As family members and friends slowly trickled in, you and Shawn would greet them together or part ways for a brief moment to make sure you thanked everyone for coming. Even though you would only be separated for a split second before you wrapped a hand around his arm, it felt too long. The rest of the morning went like that, slow and always being by each other’s side.

Breakfast was over and now you and Shawn were checking with your wedding planner to make sure everything was good to go for the big day tomorrow. Part of you was worried that something was going to go wrong. It almost seemed too good to be true that nothing had gone wrong yet, but you trusted your wedding planner when she informed you that everything was set. Only a teeny tiny weight that was lifted from your shoulders.

After the meeting with your wedding planner went better than expected, you were in a car to one of your favorite restaurants. It was just past noon, you had just under three more hours with Shawn. And much like the rest of the day, you spent the car ride in silence. This would be your final thank you said together to your guests before you were Mr. and Mrs. Shawn Mendes.

The lunch went off without a hitch; jokes shared by friends, toasts said by both of your parents, and stories told by your grandparents. You had not stopped smiling throughout the whole ordeal and that was partly due to the fact you kept gazing at your husband-to-be who sat next to you. Every time he rested a hand on your knee out of habit, you smiled. Every time he stole a piece of food off your plate, you smiled. And every time he leaned in close, his breath tickling the side of your face, to whisper how much he loved you, and only you, into your ear, you smiled.

Guests were coming up bidding you farewells and saying how they couldn’t wait for the big day tomorrow. You would laugh and agree with them; I’ve been waiting for this my entire life, Shawn would always say in response as he looked down at you with a glint of love he always held for you in his eyes.

It was quarter to three and your mother kept reminding you every ten minutes how much time you had left with Shawn. Now, it was only your closest friends and family left in the back room where lunch was held. While your families mingled and your friends laughed, you and Shawn were still sitting at your seats, chairs facing each other, knees touching.

“Can’t we just do the thing where we don’t see each other the night before?” Your voice was shaky as you squeezed the top of Shawn’s hand that was resting on your knee, “Tweak it just a little.”

Shawn let out a small laugh, “Last night you were going off about how you didn’t want to jeopardize anything, what’s changed?” You shrugged your shoulders and broke eye contact with him. “Hey, look at me,” Shawn softly whispered with care in his voice as he lifted your chin up with the tips of his fingers, “Not getting cold feet, are you?”

“Shawn,” you weren’t in the mood for joking. It was the day before your wedding and you should feel the happiest you’ve ever felt in your life. But for some reason you felt devastated. There was a weight in your chest that became heavier whenever the clock ticked closer and closer to three o’clock. You couldn’t wait for tomorrow––to finally be able to call Shawn your husband––but you didn’t want to be separated from him.

“Sorry, sorry,” he offered you a smile, but you failed to return it, “But what’s up?”

You were silent, focusing your attention on your breathing. You opened your mouth, but closed it back up quickly when you felt it go dry. You tried to swallow down your emotions, pressure building in the back of your throat as you told yourself you weren’t going to cry. You didn’t care that your jaw hurt from clenching your teeth so hard, or that the stinging behind your eyes was causing your throat to feel scratchy.

You weren’t going to cry.

With one more try, you opened your mouth to share your worries, but your mother had successfully cut you off, “Okay, lovebirds!” Her voice was far off, not wanting to disrupt the moment you two were sharing, “Officially less than ten minutes! Time to start saying your goodbyes!”

“Shawn.”

But instead of saying his name in a berating tone, you said his name out of desperation. A single tear leaked from your eye, voice cracking, as your breathing grew heavier. It seemed to click with him that you were upset about parting ways with him.

He immediately pushed his chair back, reaching down to your hand, and pulling you right up into his chest for a bone crushing hug. You pressed your cheek tight up against his chest, hands clutching the back of his shirt, no doubt wrinkling his navy button down shirt. His taut arms were wrapped equally as tight around your waist. It was a bit difficult to breathe, but that didn’t matter to you at the moment, spending time without Shawn before the wedding already felt like you were suffocating.

With each kiss he pressed to the top of your head, a tear would fall from your eye. There was no emotion other than joy that described how you felt about marrying Shawn. He was your person––your home––and you felt safe in his embrace. From the first time he hugged you, you could feel the care. He was gentle with his touches, but there was always a firmness to his hugs, a need for him to protect you.

His hugs felt like home; a place you were able to confide your deepest sorrows, a place where he made you feel safe and appreciated for the person you are.

He pressed another kiss to the top of your head as he went to pull away, but you weren’t ready, so you only wound your arms tighter around his torso. He let out a deep sigh, not wanting to be away from you either, “It’s just twenty-four hours,” he whispered only for you to hear, “Twenty-four hours in exchange for a whole life time together.”

A lifetime together.

You smiled through your tears and loosened your grip around his waist. He took advantage of the little room you gave him as he slightly bent down and wiped his thumbs under your eyes, “I can already picture you walking down the aisle,” his eyebrows were pulled together, eyes glistening with tears that had yet to spill over as he smiled, “You’re going to look so damn beautiful.”

You choked out a laugh, tears still spilling out over your eyes.

“My dreams are coming true,” a tear finally slipped past his eye, “In just twenty-four hours, I won’t need anything else in the world.”

Instead of a cry of sadness, a cry of happiness passed through you as you dove your head back into Shawn’s chest. You could feel a few pairs of eyes on you, but that didn’t concern you. Your only concern was to be as close to Shawn as possible before your mother interrupted one of your moments again.

You savored everything from the hug; the fast thump of his heart against his chest, the scent of his shirt that had made its way into your clothes that were mixed in the wash, and the security that his hands brought when he rubbed up and down your spine…you tried to memorize everything.

Your mother didn’t have to come over to break up your moment; you knew that ten minutes was up and that it was time to part ways. Shawn was first to pull away, and while you hummed into his chest in protest, you would rather have your moment ended by Shawn than your mother who was politely staying a distance away.

With his eyes closed, Shawn tilted his head to press a soft kiss to your lips, the last kiss before your wedding. The kiss tasted salty from the small tears that continued to slowly fall from both of your eyes, but you still felt him pour all of his love into it.

Reluctantly he pulled away and gently rubbed his nose against yours, “See you in twenty-four hours, Mr. Mendes.”

It was the first time today where you felt the pre-wedding jitters in your stomach disappear. The weight you felt on your shoulders, the anxiety you felt creep up your stomach; it all disappeared in that moment.

“See you in twenty-four hours, Soon-to-be Mrs. Mendes.”

#😌😌😌#some morning fluff for you 😌#or afternoon fluff or evening fluff #fluff all around!!!#enjoy it while it lasts bc I have a few angst pieces coming up!!#I'll still be writing but I have a lot of things I have saved to read and I want to get some reading in before I post something again!#as always reblog are never expected but always appreciated!!#I love you all lots!!#thanks a mILLION!!!!#Shawn mendes #Shawn Mendes fanfic #Shawn Mendes x y/n #Shawn Mendes imagine #Shawn Mendes fan fiction #Shawn Mendes fanfiction #Shawn Mendes fic #Shawn Mendes blurb #Shawn Mendes drabble #Shawn Mendes writing #Shawn Peter raul mendes #Shawn Mendes fluff #Shawn Mendes imagines #Shawn Mendes writings #Shawn Mendes fics #Shawn Mendes x reader #fluff #probs missing a few tags but I don't really care!!!!#gotta get back to work!!! :)

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katehuntington · 4 years

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Title: Black Dog - part two Word count: ±2250 words Episode summary: When Sam gets an anonymous phone call with information about his father, Dean receives a text message with coordinates to different location. The brothers clash and split up, one following orders, the other trusting his instincts. Meanwhile, in the wilderness of Cascade Range, Washington State, Zoë loses grip on a personal case and is forced to confront her demons. Without back up, this might very well turn out to be her final hunt. Part two summary: After successfully wrapping up a werewolf case in Waco, Texas, the boys are on their way again. However, an unexpected phone call might just result in a change of course. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Swearing, smoking, weaponry. Descriptions of torture and murder. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Descriptions of suicidal thoughts and tendencies, depression, panic attacks, hallucinations. Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09 & @deanwanddamons. Thanks, girls!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E03 “Black Dog” Masterlist

Waco, Texas November 30th, 2005 - Present Day

“Get your motor runnin’. Head out on the highway! Lookin’ for adventure, and whatever comes our way.”

It’s early morning in sunny Texas as the black Chevrolet Impala shoots down Interstate 35, just outside the city of Waco. The temperatures are still cool at this hour, but the orange sun that’s rising in the East will change that within hours. It is exceptionally warm for this time of the year, even for this far south.

Dean has his window rolled down and joins Steppenwolf’s lead singer John Kay on the vocals. The hunt was pretty straight forward; after a day of traveling and three more to track the creature, the hunters were able to make the kill. He feels ten times better than he did five days ago, the night he got pulled out of the water without a pulse. But the rest, time and a high dose of antibiotics did him good. Deep breaths aren’t much trouble anymore and the cough is as good as gone. Even the sprint to tackle the werewolf didn’t set his lungs on fire. He’s off pain medication, slept horizontally for the first time in days, and is behind the wheel of his Baby; Dean feels good as new. His way of celebrating is by belting out every word of the legendary rock classic Born To Be Wild.

“Yeah, Darlin’, go and make it happen. Take the world in a love embrace. Fire all of your guns at once and explode into space.”

His brother, who is huddled in the corner of the door and the front seat, opens his eyes slightly and glares at his sibling through the drowsiness. He’s not sure what’s more surprising, Dean’s unbelievably good mood or the fact that he’s able to hit the notes.

“Like a true nature’s child, we were born, born to be wild. We can climb so high, I never wanna die!” Dean sings as he drums on the wheel.

“Dude, I’m trying to sleep,” Sam complains. “Turn that shit down, will you?” Dean looks aside, as if his brother just said something vile. Did he just call Steppenwolf shit? The oldest of the two shakes his head; I tried so hard to raise him right.

Instead of honoring Sam’s request, Dean lets go of the steering wheel and plays the solo on his air guitar. Startled, the passenger reaches to take control in order to keep the car steady, after which he eyes his brother. As he does, Dean turns the volume button clockwise and sings along again. “Born to be wi-i-ild!” he cries out. “Seriously?” The youngest of the two shoots a look of annoyance at the driver. “Ah, c’mon, Sammy. Why can’t a guy have a little fun?” Dean replies. “It’s Sam,” his brother reminds him. “And for one, because I barely slept last night, and secondly, because it’s seven thirty in the morning.” “So? You’re usually the one who’s all chirpy at the crack of dawn. This way we have the whole day ahead, y’know. Make some use of it,” Dean quips.

Sam lifts one eyebrow and observes the driver for a few seconds. Is this truly coming from his brother, who is anything but a morning person? Bullshit, he thinks to himself. “That’s the best you could come up with?” he confronts. Right at that moment, AC/DC’s Stiff Upper Lip starts playing on the radio channel and Dean can’t help but to shout out when he recognizes the introduction. “Man, I love this song!” Sam shakes his head. All that his brother is doing is avoiding the topic of conversation. “And Erin didn’t mind you leaving before the alarm?”

Dean looks aside, thinking of the gorgeous brunette he picked up at a bar last night during their celebratory drink. “Not sure, she was still asleep when I left,” he admits. The younger Winchester scoffs. “That’s just mean.” “It ain’t my style to hang around too long, you know that,” Dean reminds his brother, defending his actions. “Why the hell are you in such a hurry? We don’t have a lead on Dad, we don’t have a lead on any case at all. Yet you dragged me out of the motel room at 6 AM to hit the road,” Sam questions.

His brother shrugs and fails to answer the question. Instead, he mouths the lyrics of the song while cheerily banging his head to the beat. “Dean!” Sam shouts, trying to get his brother to focus. “What?!” Dean bounces back, getting somewhat annoyed with his brother’s persistence. “I just wanna get to Hillsboro to pick up that lock so I can finally fix the trunk, that’s all.”

The passenger rolls his eyes at the lame excuse. “That’s not the reason, Dean. And you know it.” Dean lays his hand on top of the wheel and shakes his head. “You’re seeing things that ain’t there, know that?” “Funny, though, apparently you know that I’m talking about Zoë, without me even mentioning her,” the youngest returns with an attitude. “And do you honestly think I didn’t notice that you’re driving north?” “We’re in Texas, Sam. I can’t exactly go South without crossing any fucking borders,” Dean argues. “Not to mention that ‘north’ is a lot of square miles in this country. How the hell would we possibly be able to find her?” “I don’t know, man…” Sam stares up the road ahead, but then looks aside. “But you did think of it then.”

Dean sighs, realizing his slip of the tongue. Okay, so maybe he did, but he isn’t going to admit that. “You are the one who keeps calling her every day. You’re full on stalking her, no wonder she doesn’t pick up.” “I hope to God that’s the reason,” Sam responds, worried. “She’s probably just neck deep in a case,” the driver brings to mind. “Zoë’s a good hunter, she knows her shit. Why would you think she’s in trouble?” “I don’t know, just the way she took off. Like she wasn’t expecting to see us again,” Sam recalls. “You mean that she was nice?” the oldest rephrases. “Look, if she’s in trouble or not, we’d be searching for a needle in a very big haystack. For now -” He turns on his blinker and exits the highway, “- I’m gonna patch up my Baby.”

Ten minutes later, they pull over on 526 West Elm Street in Hillsboro. It’s a quiet lane on the outer side of the city, on which a little auto shop called Ronny’s Garage and Wrecker Services is situated. It’s not a big place, just a shed, from which the Stars and Stripes flag flutter playfully. A big Chevrolet truck is parked in front of the lawn, and several wreckages fill the large yard behind the house. On the other side of the sober home next to the shed, there’s a small gas station.

Dean cuts the engine and gets out of the car. A largely built man with big sideburns and a slight limp in his walk shows up from under the garage door and moves into the sun. Whipping his hands clean with a dirty cloth, he smiles at the sight of the ‘67 Impala. The oldest of the two Winchester brothers walks up the driveway. “Ronny Davis!” Dean grins as he approaches him. “Man, it’s good to see ya.” “Long time, no see, Winchester,” the big man says, embracing the hunter.

Dean pats him on the back and restores the space between them. It has been a while. Last time he saw the brawny guy was at a shady diner in Tampa, where he and John helped Ron out on a Djinn case. It must have been four years ago, at least. Sam just left for college around that time. “How’s your old man?” he wonders. “He’s alright,” Dean says, keeping up appearances. “Workin’ another case.”

It’s not a lie. Well, technically it’s not. He will leave out the part where his father is missing, though. Not telling the truth to the old friend is not something he’s comfortable with, but he will do anything to make sure his father’s work isn’t jeopardized. Sam was eager to reach out to other hunters in order to find him and although Dean wants to track him down just as well, he prefers to keep this in the family, letting sleeping dogs lie. Who knows who, or what, might be listening in. They will find Dad, when he wants to be found.

The two men enter the garage, where a 62’ Lincoln Continental lays on the operating table with a bared engine bay. While Dean nods at the car with appreciating eyes, Ronny turns around to observe the youngest Winchester for a moment, who gets out of the car. “I see Sam is back in action.” “Yeah, dragged his ass back into the game,” Dean replies with a trace of regret in his voice. “He’s an excellent hunter. We can use a few good men like him,” Ronny says. “Especially now that one of the very best was sent on early retirement.” Dean chuckles at his comment and glances down. “How are you, by the way?” Ron pulls up the pant leg of his overhaul, revealing the bionic prosthetic. “It doesn’t even hurt a bit,” he jokes. “Ruguru took it right off, knee and all.” “I’m sorry, man,” Dean sighs, his sympathetic eyes meeting Ronny’s. “It’s quite alright, actually,” he assures, smiling at the ground. “I mean, I still have holy water on my nightstand and a sixgun by the door, but instead of killing monsters I fix cars now. Life could be worse.”

Dean can’t help but to agree on that. A small prick of jealousy pierces his heart, because deep down, he wouldn’t mind living the ordinary life. Sure, he has embraced hunting, or at least acts like he has. He finds fulfillment in the job, saving people who are in need and ridding the world of evil, but it comes with great sacrifice. Who knows, maybe when they finally find the son of a bitch that killed his mother, he can lay down his weapons. Some day.

The former hunter has walked to his workbench on which a dissected transmission box lays bare. “So, what brings you here?” “Passing through, just wrapped up a case in Waco,” Dean tells him. “Some scumbag tried to break into the trunk, though. The lock is busted, couldn’t fix it. And since you have six and a half a Chevy in your backyard, I figured you’d be the guy who could help me out.” “I actually dismantled a 69’ Caprice last week, same lock as the ‘67.” He moves a few boxes around, snuffling through the thousands of parts. In this organized chaos Ron is able to find what he’s looking for and pulls the lock plus keys from a drawer. “Let’s get to work,” Dean suggests, contented.

As the mechanics take a look at the Impala, Sam wanders off. Not going anywhere in particular, the youngest Winchester strolls down the crooked sidewalk, taking in his surroundings. None of the lawns in the neighborhood are taken care of, no one made the effort to water the grass. The houses seem neglected, paint is coming off the wooden frames and weeds growing through the tiles.

With a sigh he takes out his phone. Scrolling through the list of last outgoing calls, Zoë shows on the display over and over again. Dean’s right; he is stalking her. Despite that thought, he presses the green button and puts his new Blackberry against his ear, since the last one perished in the lake in Paragould.

“This is the voicemail of Zoë Sullivan. You can leave a message after the--”

Annoyed, Sam hangs up and walks on. As he enters the small shop by the gas station, a bell rings. A middle aged woman behind the counter looks up and greets him politely. He gives her a nod and takes a few candy bars from the selves, since there is no healthy alternative in stock to choose from. So much for breakfast, but at least this will save them from starvation. “That will be $ 3,60, sir,” the lady informs while she puts the bars in a plastic bag. He passes her a five dollar bill and takes the bag and his change. As she wishes him a nice day, he leaves. The sun almost blinds him, still hanging low, but shining brightly already. Sam narrows his eyes and starts to make his way back to the garage, when his phone rings. A bit startled, he hastily takes out his phone, hoping it’s Zoë, but the caller ID isn’t identified on the display. While wondering who it could be, he answers. “This is Sam.” “Sam Winchester?”

A bit stunned, the young hunter looks back at his display to make sure the woman on the other end of the line isn’t Zoë. The voice coming through is different, softer, with a slightly dissimilar accent. Sam digs deep down his memory, but he doesn’t recognize the person on the phone. “Who is this?” he asks, still cautious. “I have some information for you.” Whoever she is, she got his attention. Sam tries to not sound too curious as he responds. “What kind of information?” A short silence follows before the girl answers, but when she does, her words bring his heart and mind to a full stop.

“I know where your father is.”

There you have it, the first chapter of the new episode “Black Dog”. I hope I got your attention! Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page)

Read part three here

#Dean Winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester fanfiction #Dean x OFC #Sam x OFC #Supernatural OFC series #Supernatural series #Dean Winchester series #Sam Winchester series #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Zoë Sullivan #Supernatural fanfiction #SPN #SPN fanfiction #Supernatural: the Sullivan Series #STSS #1x03 black dog #Kate Huntington

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deans-haunted-baby · 3 years

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Curious. What do you mean by Dust till Dawn going against it's Characters? I know I have my own feelings, or confusion, with how they left Kate's story.

From Dusk Till Dawn effectively character assassinated every single character in the very last episode including Kate Fuller. No one is acting like themselves in that series finale it's like some deranged fanfic writer came aboard and hijacked the show while no one was looking. If you thought 15x18 & 15x19 of Supernatural were bad and believe me they really are; those episodes are minorly salvageable against the slaughterhouse that Dusk 3x10 was. It utterly contradicts and ignores everything the show put forward in all 3 seasons. I will never watch that episode again.

I'll first explain what that piece of shit did to the show's lead protagonists, the Gecko brothers. Regardless of how you or anyone else feels about Supernatural's series finale; that show was a saint to Sam and Dean's storyline beginning to end compared to how From Dusk Till Dawn definitively butchered Richie and Seth. I'm sad saying this because Zane Holtz and DJ Controna are outstanding as these characters. I freaking love their chemistry man, it's a great rival to J2! They're the badass dark clones of the Winchesters. Their arc starts out fascinatingly complex because they went from cold-blooded criminals/bad guys and meanwhile during their escape over the Mexican border with this hostage family the audience is told pretty quick by Professor Aiden Tanner that the Geckos are destined to become these foresworn warriors The Mayan Hero Twins in an ancient prophecy (based on real Mesoamerican lore) who battle the Underworld. So right away the show is telling us ahead where Seth and Richie are suppose to end up in their journey and when you introduce a storyline this big I expect a satisfying payoff.

At the end of season 1, Richie Gecko is *SPOILER ALERT* transformed into a culebra (snake-vampire) while Seth Gecko remains human symbolizing their night and day Hero Twin counterparts from the legend. And they're separated in the first half of season 2 where both try to navigate this new supernatural world they've stumbled on individually. What they find, no different than the Winchesters, is that neither can function properly without the other making their destiny all the more valid. That season is practically constructed like their swan song to the criminal lifestyle since the brothers are meant to become more than crooks; and since Richie's a vampire they can't ever go back to basics. Their adopted father aka uncle Eddie actually says the line "this is my swan song" in 2x07 to Seth and Richie in reference to their final heist together which is not a coincidence. That's the writers telling us that the Gecko Brothers' role in the show is going to shift from anti-heroes to heroes very soon. Eddie and Kate Fuller's fates in S2 act as the primary catalysts for this transition taking shape in the finale.

Going into season 3 it's business as usual for the boys until the prophecy of the twins officially rips a hole in the damn universe via demon queen Amaru. Who's now possessing Kate. Throughout that season Seth and Richie embark on a journey of heroism; find themselves battling monsters, actually saving civilians and dealing with their own personal demons (guilt and remorse over past sins). That year is presented as their redemption arc and final phase into their new role. No one ever tells them about their destiny (despite most of the other characters knowing) but we as the audience are already aware as we watch the brothers in action. The best episode is without a doubt 3x06 the crown jewel of From Dusk Till Dawn because it's about overcoming the darkness inside. And who best represents that than Richie; the show's most important central character whom began the series as a deadly clairvoyant criminal into the tortured vampire hero struggling with his own humanity. Now I won't spoil the whole episode for anyone who hasn't seen it or the show in general but it's an incredible moment of character development for both the Gecko brothers. Not only does it cement their powerful bond it's the episode that defines who these two are once and for all. The ones who lead the battle between good and evil; keep the balance of light and darkness. One day I plan to do an entire analysis of that episode because it's so fucking brilliant and shot so incredibly eerie at the same time 😁

You want to know what 3x10 does to these characters? It shits all over their entire storyline and pisses away THREE FUCKING SEASONS of character development. Just flushes it all down the toilet rendering everything they've ever done up to that point completely pointless! Their destiny which is the WHOLE POINT OF THE SHOW is suddenly dropped last minute and the Geckos hit reset on their former criminal escapades; dragging Kate along with them. I hate that finale with the fire of a thousand suns for what it does to Richie and Seth 😡

Moving on to Carlos Madrigal. He is the best villain character in the history of show villains hands down. I can actually say that without blinking. Wilmer Valderama is phenomenal, he steals the show as Carlos. He's is so freaking awesome, evil and badass! I just want to keep seeing this man tear things apart while being the sexy asshole he is 😈For all intents and purposes I don't want to spoil his whole storyline on the show for those following me in case they're interested. But what I will say is 3x10 destroys this character; so don't watch it if you want to keep the memory of who he was alive. I'm actually depressed over what was done to him as much as I feel sorry for Wilmer having to perform that shitty script. It's laughable in a very bad way. Gotta hand it to the writers and showrunners of FDTD they certainly knew how to humiliate their best characters in this series. Carlos basically goes from charismatic yet lethal Hannibal Lecter to a very captain obvious Gandolf caricature. Yah you heard that right, it's really fucking sad.

Next we have Freddie Gonzalez; the audience's avatar into the series. This character is connected to everyone on the show for a reason because of the crucial part he plays in this universe. The "Peacekeeper" destined to police the line between the supernatural world from the human world. In the beginning he's a Texas deputy on a quest to avenge the murder of his father figure/partner Earl McGraw via the Gecko Brothers. But once he steps in that territory of monsters there's no going back. And FDTD repeatedly tells him and the audience this in the first 2 seasons. But then 3x10 pulls the ultimate fuckery by giving him the most cliched, nonsensical hallmark ending effectively cancelling out his entire purpose in the series. He instantly forgets that he ever cared about Kate, watching her bleed out on the ground, then leaves the Geckos high and dry rushing his family (who isn't injured) to the hospital. And he stays there while the battle continues 😣

Kate and Scott Fuller OMG words cannot describe my anger over what was done to them so I'll make it fast. I'll begin with Kate the bright light and heart of the series. Her arc in the first two seasons is excellent. It's emotionally driven because she begins as an ordinary girl in broken yet seemingly-happy family to a young woman finding her way around the supernatural world maintaining her faith and moral compos while trying to help her brother after he's *SPOILER ALERT* been turned into a vampire; paralleling the Geckos's situation. Scott being only a 16 year old kid, like Richie, struggles immensely after his transformation; searching for meaning as a cursed individual and coping with his duality. He was already different to begin with so being a vampire adds some interesting layers to his character.

Btw Kate plays a vital role in Richie and Seth's lives, though in my opinion is more strongly connected to Richie. The show even goes as far as developing the early glimpses of a romantic arc between Kate and Richie (seeing as they kiss twice) with angst at the end of season 2 that is never resolved. You want to know why it wasn't? Not only does season 3 mute Kate's voice and agency but 3x10 ruins her character and demolishes her whole arc with Richie (who spent all of season 3 trying to save her) at the last second due to fan pressure of those who shipped her with Seth. They don't exchange one word nor barely look at one another it's like seasons 1&2 never happened. This is the biggest fuck you to fans of these characters I've ever witnessed in a series and they did my boys Adam and Michael so dirty in Supernatural. Poor Scott whom the show enjoyed kicking around all season barely gets a thing to do in that series finale either than listening to his sister and Seth gab about prom lol. Yah you heard me I'm not making this shit up I swear. Then he gets abandoned by Kate while she goes off to be a bank robber with the character assassinated versions of Seth and Richie. How extraordinary 😖

Santanico Pandemonium is really the only character in the series who manages to get out unscathed. HOWEVER her arc is handled very poorly beginning to end. They set up an arc between her and Seth that also goes absolutely nowhere. Give her zero closure with Richie whom she sired, dated and used in S2. And randomly throw her in a scene with Kate that makes no fucking sense after these two had nothing to do with one another all series. On top of that Santanico is barely in season 3 so by the time the show wraps her arc feels incomplete.

Other characters go missing that no one notices, the new bad guy whom they've set up at the end is just left hanging. And Richie Gecko, you know the show’s other lead, is horribly sidelined after 3x06 to make way for the Seth Gecko solo show. When I say FDTD series finale is bad I mean it's really fucking terrible and blasphemous.

#from dusk till dawn: the series #from dusk till dawn #richie gecko #seth gecko #kate fuller #carlos madrigal #fdtd #scott fuller #kichie #richiekate #seth x richie #freddie gonzalez #Santanico Pandemonium #anti fdtd 3x10 #the Gecko brothers

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judgement-free-sideblog · 4 years

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Blood, tears and sea breeze

Warnings: ANGST, mental health issues, graphic depictions of violence, blood, cursing, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of sex, substance abuse.

Summary: The not so peaceful town of Broadchurch face dead again, while Alec Hardy continues his journey to redemption will this school teacher be the key to solve the mystery or just another victim of the ever watching evilness that seems to reside in the town.

Hi!!! Long time without posting, work has been crazy, so many painful things, but I have a tiny space of time and I wanted to think about something else for a change, new chapter, more questions and so close to the end. I hope everyone is safe and healthy. Please take care of yourselves, mental health is so important, specially in times like this. We will get out of this, until then I send you a lot of love and hugs from here.

Atte: a still tired but more hopeful doctor

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Chapter 18: Reality

The stinging pain across your cheek somehow brought you back to reality, a reality that you had comfortably numbed away the moment the handcuffs closed around your wrists.

But reality could be tricky sometimes, because the brief stolen kisses on his livingroom, the innocent way he touched your face, and the hunger look on his eyes every night you escape to sleep alone in his room were part of reality, even when now they feel ages away, and numbing all the pain, all the desperation even those perfect moments was the best solution you could find, because the way the kindness evaporate from his eyes when he told you "Miss Y/L/N, you are under arrest for the murder of Jonathan Norbury" and was replaced for an empty void and disappointment in his voice, was enough to keep you from wanting to be in this reality.

But you were back, the echo of Ash words were hurting you, because she was wrong, you love them too, and you would have never wanted any of that trouble for them, she was wrong for believing that you wanted any of this, but she was right to call you all thos hurtful things, even when you were not sure of what you did you felt like you deserved it.

And what did you do? Did you really slept with Charlie? Charlie who was more like an awkward little brother that anything to you, did you really order him to ... kill Jonathan? Even thinking about it was to hard to process, you tried search for your bracelet again knowing to well it wasn't there, but your hands were handcuffed to the table and the more you pull from them the more they hurt, and the cold steel started to mark your wrists.

And somehow that pain kept you from blacking out, the thought of Alec angry and sad because of you alone in his house again, Ashley's words, and Jonathan's body on the floor, and you started crying, letting the pain wash out from your eyes, and then as your wrist started to bleed from the handcuffs clarity followed, you were not screaming as last time, because there was something you could not shake off your mind, something that was almost ridiculous, like the idea of even touching Charlie, and the sudden realization make you wanted to laugh, but you keep it quiet, because the pretty officer that had brought you in returned with a laptop and you didn't want to appear more disturbed than they already thought you were.

***************************************************

"Sugar?" Miller said offering a small bowl to Ashley Langford, she seemed stressed and there were a few wrinkles around her eyes and her hair looked less shiny than usual, somehow Miller thought, she looked more human.

"Oh no, it's fine thank you" she said and kept looking at the door. " I'm sorry for the way I acted, is just that my parents are very old and having the police coming and trash the place was..." she put the tea aside and covered her face with her hands before starting to cry. "How did this happened? My brother is an asswhole but he would never... oh god what did he do?" She cried again and Miller offered her a paper tissue.

"Miss Langford I'm so sorry for the inconvenience that this process is causing you, but I can't tell you any details about the investigation, we are going to need you to cooperate with us and told us everything about your brother relationship with Y/N" she said and the woman rise her look puzzled.

"I'm sorry, but I already know, everybody knows" she said and Miller was shocked to hear that. "It's all on the internet, a friend of mine send it to me this morning, I called Charlie and he gave me a very confusing response and I run to my parents house to question him about them, but they had already arrested him" she said and took her phone out of her purse to show her.

They were not the explicit videos that Ramos had found, but they left clear that Y/N and Charlie were together and they had killed Jonathan.

"What did your brother said?" Miller asked when a quick search on her social media let her know that maybe all of Broadchurch had seen Y/N confession.

"I don't know, he sounded confused, angry, he said That count thinks that because that old jock is shagging her now she can dump me she is crazier than I thought, we'll see how much he likes her after this" she was convinced he meant some of the girls he often meet at bars, but the truth was clear to Ellie.

A couple nights before, in the middle of the night Alec had texted her to meet on the piers, on their usual spot. And after some crafted lie to Brian she was there, ready to fight whatever demon was torturing his mind, however what she found was different, he had a quiet smile, looking at the waves, and enjoying the sound of the ocean in the night, if she didn't knew him any better she would have swear that he was humming a song.

"Having a good night sir?" She asked and sited next to him.

"Miller, do you think I'm bad at my job?" He asked and she kept trying to guess his train of thought, a sixth sense told her she already knew what was happening, but she didn't want it to be truth.

"Yes, you are a nightmare, what is happening?" She said humoring him and he became all serious.

"Just answer the bloody question Ellie" the use of her name let her know it was serious so she looked at the ocean for a a long moment before speaking.

"You are not, you are capable, witted, yes you are a nightmare, but you are quite good at your job" She said honestly.

"Do you trust my judgment?" He asked then almost in a whisper.

"Without a doubt sir" she said, and before he could reply and make her part of something that was clearly against the rules she stoped him. "I trust you would never jeopardize an active investigation, and that whatever choice you make on your... personal... life, would be after a deep and conscious consideration" she said looking deeply into his eyes.

"Ellie..." He started but he knew he should keep it quiet, this was for the best. "Thank you detective Miller"

"You are welcome sir, and if I may... I hope you are happy, and have a good night" she said, meaning every word, even when the pain was pushing to make her cry. "I will change the patrol on your house tomorrow, to someone more trustworthy, you know for safety" she said and walked away from the piers, leaving him with that stupid smile on his face.

And now all she could think off was him alone in his house angry at himself and she had the need to run to his side, but no, there was only one way out of this for him, without damaging his image more, and that was with a conviction on Y/N, so she took Ashley Langford declaration and it was now certain for her that Charles had posted those videos, the how he found out Y/N was involved with a certain scottish man was still a mystery but she was determined to find out.

***************************************************

But I like you and your cock better than Jonathan's, Charlie the sound of your voice coming from the laptop saying those things almost made you throw up, but you kept watching You should kill him already and we can leave this place, don't you think big boy? It was you, there was no doubt about it, it was you in a very ordinary and nasty room, acting like a drunk idiot, rubbing your almost naked body on Charles, who had the creepiest smug on his face and you wanted to slap that dump expression out of him, this was degrading and humiliating, but you were focused, as you had been the last few days, everything was more clear than it had been in the last year and your mind was running fast trying to focus on one sole detail.

You have seen at least four different videos of yourself and the dates on them click on your head with dumb fights with Jonathan, headaches or days that everything seemed blurry, and for a solid minute your mind start deviating and consider the idea that maybe you were actually guilty, that maybe this semi naked idiot was actually you, but before that ridiculous idea could consume you another stupid phrase out of Charlie's mouth made DC Ramos blush and made you remember something as DC Harford looked careful at you.

The last time you had blushed was a few days ago in Alec's couch, once you came back from the cliff and he turned up the heat since the both of you were wet from the rain that had made you run inside, kissing him had been a childish decision, and he kissing you back was just as bad, but now you were sitting on the couch covered with a blanket and holding a cup of tea, glad that Daze was god knows where and you could talk like adults.

"We shouldn't" you started, "I want to, I really do, but you are still leading the case, and I can't lie, and if someone asks me are you sleeping with detective Hardy I will say yes, and ..." You blush at the look he gave you and quickly hide your face away from his smile.

"Fine, you should lock your door tonight then" he said jokingly with a playful grin and for a moment you wonder were have this man been all this time.

"Sure detective, let's make dinner, I'm starving" you said and kissed him again, thinking at the moment that everything was alright, but now as agent Ramos looked uncomfortable away from you the little bubble of happiness was finally burst, and once again that anger make your memories come back to you the image of the night club cleared, the toothy grin of the man in the red shirt, finally had a name, and things became more and more focused and you looked up to DC Harford.

"Enough" You said a little more aggressive than expected, but they stopped looking at you with petty on their eyes if just for a moment. "I seen enough, what do you want to know?"

***************************************************

"Look everyone in Broadchurch is talking about you" Miller started showing Charles her phone with the edited videos "Are you going to keep pretending that you had nothing to do with this or are you finally going to talk?" She said and the authority on her voice irritated him.

"Where is the guy?" He asked looking at the empty chair next to her, but he had abandoned the erratic tone, and was talking quietly.

"In the other room talking to your girlfriend here" she said pointing at the pictures. "Whom I think will say everything so I will recomend you to start talking"

"No the little eye candy, the other one, the old one" he said and smiled when she change her stoic look. "I liked the guy, seems tough" he said with honesty and she repressed the impulse to sigh in relief.

"He is not working today" she said and tried to regain her pose. "He is loosing all the fun".

"Oh sad, because this is so entertaining" he said sarcastically "What do you expect me to say? I post them, she is suppose to be mourning, and sad, but no, the little cunt is so happy walking holding hands with some arse, well what can I expect right? She cheated on Jonathan, why wouldn't she cheat on me too" he said it upset at the thought of the woman seeing another men, and the whole situation became ridiculous to Miller, and at the same time something was not coming together.

"Did you saw her with someone else?" She asked cautiously, knowing too well that until the las four hours she had been enclosed in Hardy's house and if she ever leave his place was with him.

"I did, a couple days ago, acting like Jonathan was nothing to her, like I was nothing" He said, and she desperately needed to know if he was lying, because if he meant Alec he would have said it since the beginning, but if he meant someone else, who? Unless... maybe he was fabricating the whole thing.

"How was him?" She asked and without hesitation she add "I mean she has a type, Jonathan, you... another how did you call agent Ramos? Eye candy"

"Yeah" he said smiling sardonically "Some bloke, you know tall, black hair, I could take him down" it sounded rehearsed, and it became clear he was lying when he nervously add "Clean shaved bastard"

She was about to say something else when the door was opened and a nervous Harford came inside.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but we need you" she said and Miller followed her outside leaving a puzzled Charlie behind.

"What happened?" She asked and Katie looked at her feet uncomfortable "She still hasn't talked?"

"No, that's the problem, she talks but she says she doesn't remember anything..." she started

"Well she make this idiot kill her fiance I'm not surprised she wants to pretend it didn't happen" Miller say spiteful.

"No that's not the problem, she says she will confess, but only to you" she said and Miller was surprised to hear that.

"Absolutely no" she said calmly.

"I say that and she went silent again" I try everything, we even show her how those videos are running through all the town, by the way how the fuck that happened?" She said and show her a link send to her by her dad. "But she keeps asking for you"

Ellie remembered the last time she walked inside that particular interrogation room, a part of her wanted answers, but she feared she would act up against her, and ruin the case as she have done all those years ago, but no, Haedy needed her to fix this, so she make up her mind an asked Katie to leave her alone inside.

***************************************************

"Ellie" you said once she was sitted in front of you, "it may be in our best interest if you gave me 5 minutes before turning on that thing" you said looking at the tape recorder that Harford had turned off.

"Is Detective Miller, and why would I listen to you?" She said and her tone was not only dry and professional but also rude at some point.

"Because if you care about Alec as much as I do you may want to hear what I have to say first" you said and she raised her hand and you prepared to feel the pain in your face again but she only put the pictures of Jonathan's body and screenshots from the filthy videos in front of you.

"This is caring for him?" She said and this time was no longer any professionalism on her voice. "You have five minutes" she said finally.

"I didn't sleep with him" you said and she gave you an incredulous look "Alec," you said exasperated "I thought is better to let that out in the open, nothing happened, so he is safe on that end... and I have no intention of talking to a lawyer so you can rest" you said and her expression softened a little "where is he?" You couldn't help but ask.

"Alone in his house, probably wondering why did he trusted you" she spat at you "4 and a half minutes"

"Fine, I don't remember anything of this, ok? Completely blank, but I'm not an idiot I know how that sounds, and I won't play the victim, I will confess, to what is here to whatever agent Harford needs to put Charlie on jail, and me if I have to"

"And how are you so sure about Langford being guilty?" She asked.

"Because I remember now, the day I found him like this" you said pointing at the picture, I took the bus home and Charles was there, he put him there" you said since the images were flowing back to your mind, and you remembered, "I start screaming for help when I saw him, he said something about this being what I wanted, what I asked him to do all the time, and I fight him to run away and then I just remember his hand in my neck and the taste of something bitter he force down my throat and before everything went black again I saw him put my ring on his hand" you said and Ellie's eyes opened up drastically.

"The broken ring?" She said quietly.

"Yes, the next thing I remember was being in the front door reading Jonathan's letter, getting inside and freaking out over his body" you said very aware of how unrealistic all that sounded but she had to listen to you "He posted all this crap, but nothing about the parking lot, and I'm sure I fight that time, and this person that I don't remember is willing, drunk or drugged with a split personality or whatever, but she appeared to be ok with what is happening, then why will I need to scream, and run and fight on that car? What was different then, why did he needed to make a show out of Jonathan's dead, if he was so sure I wanted this, why did he have to make it all this big?" you said aware of the way that sounded but for some reason something on her eyes said she might believe you.

"I have no interest in understanding the train of thought of a lunatic" She Miller said trying to hide her own concerns "What is your point?"

"You are bsolutely right, but this was post right after we..." start dating? That sounded childish, we kiss? Sure Y/N rub it on her face "All I can think is that this is not over, and I can't let whatever else is coming affect Alec, so I'll confess so this ends quickly, but I need you to make sure he doesn't get dragged into this, I can't have that on me"

"Your time is up" she said and put out the note pad where you should write the declaration, completely ignoring your words.

"Ok, where should I start?" You said resigned.

"You are really going to confess?" She asked surprised and didn't turn the device on yet "why? If you really think there is more to it than the evidence, then why?"

"No matter how, I'm responsible for his dead, I might as well start paying, also this way I can make sure Alec's reputation and Ashley's life doesn't get more damaged for my mistakes" you said firmly.

"You really care about him huh?" She said and gave you a half smile. "I think I know exactly where you should start" she said and started writing instructions on the notepad, before you start speaking.

Tag list:

@allonsymexgirl @laciesaito @tf18unipups @dazedkrosupreme @timey-wimey-lovi @coffees-and-constellations @ladyaziraphale @acid-gurkerl @moonuvert @tennantious

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tabloidtoc · 3 years

Text

Globe, January 4

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Ghislaine Maxwell buying her way out of prison

Page 2: Up Front & Personal -- Gavin Rossdale playing tennis with his pup Chewy, Brooke Burke holding holiday balls topless, James Franco takes his cellphone into the sea

Page 3: Leighton Meester surfing in Malibu, Robbie Williams, Lisa Rinna wearing two masks

Page 4: Angelina Jolie is bracing for major humiliation after being dragged into Johnny Depp’s latest legal showdown with ex-wife Amber Heard -- Angie’s run-ins with Johnny who she starred with in 2010′s The Tourist are coming under intense scrutiny as Depp gears for a second court battle with Amber -- Angie and Johnny were so coy about their white-hot connection at the time even though their romance was an open secret but they got lucky because nobody had the smoking gun to prove it but now it’ll all come out in the open -- at the time Johnny was still dating Vanessa Paradis while Angie was five years into her doomed love-in with Brad Pitt -- there’s talk bisexual Amber was kind of obsessed with Angie so Angie is central to the plotline whether she likes it or not

Page 5: The Bachelor host Chris Harrison is worried he’ll follow Dancing with the Stars host Tom Bergeron out the door -- both these shows have been on TV forever and the world has changed around them and to keep up with Black Lives Matter and the #MeToo movement changes are being discussed and that’s left Chris fearing he’ll be the next Tom Bergeron and replaced by a woman of color

Page 6: Aging divas Loretta Lynn and Dolly Parton are caught in a bitter country catfight and long-dead Patsy Cline is the excuse -- although there’s been little love lost between the Nashville icons for nearly 50 years their simmering feud exploded weeks ago when Dolly apparently took some veiled public shots at Loretta’s BFF Patsy who was horribly disfigured in a car wreck two years before dying in a 1963 plane crash -- in an interview Dolly recalled standing in the wings of Nashville’s Grand Ole Opry at age 13 and watching Patsy perform and she remembered thinking about how awful it was that she got her pretty face scarred up like that -- Loretta was fit to be tied over the comments Dolly made about her old pal and thinks Dolly should stop running her mouth about Nashville legends like Patsy and Johnny Cash -- Dolly’s heard about Loretta’s complaints through the grapevine and brushes them off as quarantine boredom mixed with old age

Page 8: Blake Shelton’s going bonkers after fiancee Gwen Stefani told him she wants to skip the mega-million star-studded wedding shindig he’s been planning and elope -- Blake is all bent out of shape over Gwen’s latest switcheroo which calls for them to get hitched on the sly at a Mexican resort and she’s got him so mixed up he can’t think straight because for the longest time she wanted the Hollywood-style wedding with all the bells and whistles and was very particular about details but now she’s telling him to ditch those plans which have already cost them a small fortune and book a trip somewhere exotic so they can just just get it over with -- Gwen wants to elope so they can hitched at the Riviera Maya resort in Cancun where they could swap vows on the beach witnessed by her three sons and Blake has no choice but to give in to Gwen and he’s saying he’s fine with it as long as she’s sure this time

Page 9: Hollywood horndog John Mayer is back sniffing around old flame Jennifer Aniston after his mom gave him a shove -- John and Jen had a steamy fling for about a year before he dropped her in 2009 and now John’s mom Margaret Meyer is scolding him for letting Jen go and John’s mom is always on him about settling down and she feels that at 43 he should be married and she recently had a heart-to-heart talk with him and told him she thought Jennifer was the most down-to-earth of all his exes and because John considers his mom one of the smartest people he knows he decided to reach out to Jen and he’s always admired Jen and thought of her as a classy lady and now he’s reaching out to her again in hopes of getting her to agree to see him again once things leave lockdown

* FKA Twigs has socked actor Shia LaBeouf with a bombshell lawsuit claiming he subjected her to relentless physical, emotional and mental abuse and gave her an STD and she also accuses him of sexual battery, assault, and infliction of emotional distress -- although Shia says she’s lying Twigs insists Shia once choked her in the middle of the night and kept a loaded firearm by the bed leaving her terrified to get up at night for fear he’d think she was an intruder and shoot her -- she claims during an incident around Valentine’s Day 2019 Shia threatened to crash his speeding car unless she professed her love for him so when he pulled into a gas station she got out of the car but he threw her against the car while screaming in her face then forced her back into the car -- Shia also had rules about how often Twigs had to kiss and touch him -- Shia has been arrested several times on now-dismissed charges including assault and disorderly conduct

Page 10: John Lennon didn’t have to die -- that’s law enforcement experts’ explosive analysis after reviewing newly discovered evidence about the Beatles legend’s December 8, 1980 murder in NYC -- an odd series of coincidences and simple decisions put Lennon and his killer Mark David Chapman in the same place at the same time -- a review of the details concludes Lennon’s death was a strange result of flukes including his penchant for running around without protection and a missed appointment with his photographer and without these quirks of fate John would still be alive and recording hit songs

Page 12: Celebrity Buzz -- Pink flashes her bandaged thumb after getting stitches in Santa Monica (picture), Amanda Seyfried confesses she made a terrible decision for turning down the role of a lifetime as Chris Pratt’s love interest in Guardians of the Galaxy and now she’s watching from the sidelines as the director’s second choice Zoe Saldana skyrockets in the money-making Marvel franchise, Katherine Heigl will star in the upcoming limited biopic series Woodhull about Victoria Woodhull the first woman to run for president in 1872, Big Brother alum Zach Rance has come out as bisexual after admitting a sizzling same-sex romance with his former reality show housemate Frankie Grande who is the real-life older brother of pop star Ariana Grande

Page 13: Jaime King slurps down a meal on the streets on L.A. (picture), Jax Taylor mowing the lawn (picture), Guns N’ Roses axman Slash loads up on supplies at an L.A. grocery (picture), former teen heartthrob Chad Michael Murray admits his inflated young ego got the best of him and now he looks at photos of himself and thinks what a dweeb

Page 14: Julia Roberts is headed for the small screen headlining the limited TV series The Last Thing He Told Me where she’ll form an unexpected relationship with her teenage stepdaughter while searching for the truth about her husband’s mysterious disappearance, Emma Stone is also heading for the flat-screen in the comedy series The Curse alongside Nathan Fielder about a couple starring on an HGTV-style show who are trying to conceive a child amid an alleged curse, Nicolas Cage is hosting a new series called The History of Swear Words in which he’ll delve into the origins and pop culture usage and science and cultural impact of profanely shocking expletives

* Fashion Police -- Peyton List 8/10, Sofia Carson 9/10, Vanessa Hudgens 2/10, Neve Campbell 1/10, Chelsea Handler 4/10

Page 16: Cover Story -- Jeffrey Epstein’s madam Ghislaine Maxwell’s $30M jail break -- terrified and tortured Ghislaine risks family fortune to buy her freedom -- the accused sex predator and her fat cat inner circle are set to plunk down an obscene $30 million to buy her way out of federal prison in what outraged investigators fear is a brazen plot to cheat justice

Page 19: 10 Things You Don’t Know About Mayim Bialik

* Lizzo is admitting she’s having negative thoughts and is hating her 300-pound body but adds she knows she beautiful

* The Spice Girls were likely liquored up on cut-rate champagne when they made their first album according to Emma Bunton a.k.a. Baby Spice who says she and her bandmates swilled the cheapest sparkling wine in the studio

Page 20: True Crime -- a chilling message left by the elusive Zodiac Killer has finally been cracked by a team of code breakers after 51 years -- a hodgepodge of numbers, symbols and letters called the 340 cipher was sent to the San Francisco Chronicle in 1969 and lawmen believed it contained key clues to the serial killer’s identity but the truth is even more chilling -- according to the experts the message says I hope you are having lots of fun in trying to catch me, I am not afraid of the gas chamber because it will send me to paradise all the sooner because I now have enough slaves to work for me

Page 21: Caitlyn Jenner is terrified after learning her skin cancer has returned a second time -- she was diagnosed with basal cell skin cancer a few years ago and had an entire layer of skin removed from her nose -- since then she’s been slathering on sunscreen but a new red spot on the right side of her nose popped up along with some crusty areas on her scalp but the nose patch was not cancer but hypertrophic keratosis or scaly damage from sun exposure -- however the dozen spots on the top of her head was squamous cell carcinoma which is a skin cancer that’s known to be aggressive so her doctor burned off the offending spots -- her doctor recommended she replace her 1960 Austin-Healey convertible but the chances of Caitlyn selling her prized ride are slim

Page 23: Your 2021 Horoscope -- love, luck, health, wealth, happiness -- plus surprising celebrity predictions -- Elton John, Valerie Bertinelli, Johnny Depp, Jessica Simpson, Matthew Perry, Cameron Diaz, Will Smith, Katy Perry, Howie Mandel, Savannah Guthrie, Justin Timberlake, Carrie Underwood

Page 30: Larry King has reached a deal with estranged wife Shawn but she’s royally peeved about the payoff -- Larry has agreed to pay her a lump sum of $20,000 plus $33,000 a month in spousal support which lasts until at least their next scheduled hearing in April but Shawn claims the 33Gs only covers a third of her monthly nut which includes $25,000 for rent on her home, $12,000 on clothes, $3500 on groceries and $4500 for hair and nails and pet care and gym

Page 31: Kim Kardashian is reading husband Kanye West the riot act over his junk food benders that are sabotaging her healthy eating program and it’s led to more than a few arguments with no peace in sight -- he’s telling her to chill and let him live by his own terms but she can’t do that because it’s driving her crazy -- what really ticks Kim off is his junk food has totally taken over her section of fresh cut veggies, fruits and water and she wants him to get his own storage in a different part of the house where she won’t have to see it or hold her nose

* Kardashian momager Kris Jenner’s faux reality TV home is on the market for nearly $8 million even though she never lived there -- the L.A. estate was used for exterior shots of the image-conscious family’s compound on Keeping Up with the Kardashians but it was all for show -- dubbed the Iredell Estate the house also appears in True Blood and Chelsea Lately

Page 33: Health Report

Page 34: Wrestling Ring Kings: Where Are They Now? Sable, Bret Hart

Page 35: Lex Luger, Steve Austin, Ric Flair

Page 36: The Undertaker, Tito Santana, Diamond Dallas Page

Page 37: Kane, Kurt Angle, Sunny, Mick Foley

Page 39: Despite an astounding 30 No. 1 country music hits legendary singer Charley Pride took a haunting regret to his grave that he never made it as major league baseball star -- Charley had so much success but he died tormented his baseball career short-circuited -- Charley was singing and playing guitar by the time he was 14 but his real goal was to pitch for the New York Yankees -- Charley signed with a Yankees farm team as a flame-throwing phenom at 17 but in his rookie season he threw out his arm and was just never the same -- after he struck out in baseball he put his full energy into singing but faced an uphill battle -- Charley was the Jackie Robinson of country music and he endured a lot of racism

Page 40: Kelsey Grammer admits he often breaks down and blubbers like a baby and it makes him feel better and he cries when he’s upset or sad or scared and it provides him a lot of relief and he believes years of tragedy in his life taught him to cry as a healing mechanism and now he sheds tears whenever he has sad feeling bottled up inside him

* A moneybags James Bond fan coughed up a whopping $256,000 for the handgun 007 Sean Connery toted in the first spy epic Dr. No -- the disabled Walther PP semi-automatic was supposed to bring in no more than $200,000 but the unidentified American buyer who claims to have seen every Bond epic went even higher

Page 44: Straight Talk -- Miley Cyrus is now blabbing about why she broke up with husband Liam Hemsworth after years of togetherness and just nine months of marriage and it sounds like a case of the pot calling the kettle black

Page 45: Furious Queen Elizabeth has booted Princess Eugenie and her husband out of Prince Harry’s Frogmore Cottage home in a bit to foil Meghan Markle’s plan to completely cut him off from England and the royal family -- pregnant Eugenie and her booze-seller husband Jack Brooksbank were ordered to quit the cottage and move back to Kensington Palace just six weeks after Harry and Meghan secretly leased them the home meaning Harry and Meghan are still on the financial hook for Frogmore which was a gift from the queen and they will have to underwrite the cost of keeping up the property and it also ensures Harry has a home in Britain if he ever wants to come back -- by moving Eugenie and Jack out the queen has made sure Harry still has a place to hang his hat if he decides to come back to leave his American wife

Page 47: Bizarre But True

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esausrpmemes · 5 years

Text

(Originally posted by galacticrpmemes who has since deactivated. Now available again without having to reblog from private users)

ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ ᴀɢᴇ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴꜱ ꜱᴇɴᴛᴇɴᴄᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀꜱ

change pronouns as needed! cw mature content

“You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good.”

“Tis cold in my tent, all alone…”

“We have been given the gift of freedom by our forbearers. Let us not squander it.”

“Surely it has not escaped your notice that I am both armed and armored. Any fight between us would be rather one-sided.”

“Be careful what you wish for. Power is treacherous. I have seen many people–great leaders–consumed by it.”

“Nobility does not exist without obligation. We owe everything we have, even our lives, to our land and people.”

“Must we sacrifice everything good about our nation to save it?”

“There is nothing I would not do for my homeland.”

“Your fascination with glory and legends will be your undoing, _____. We must attend to reality.”

“Please, I have done… so much wrong. Allow me to do one last thing right.”

“That’s what I’m here for. To deliver unpleasant news and witty one-liners.”

“Nothing like a brush with death to make you… not like death much.”

“Just so you know, if the king ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I’m drawing the line.“

“Now that the warm and fuzzy part of the day is over we can get back to the ritual dismemberments. Oh wait, it’s not Tuesday is it?”

“Have you ever licked a lamp post in winter?”

“What? Lead? Me? No, no, no. No leading. Bad things happen when I lead. We get lost, people die, and the next thing you know I’m stranded somewhere without any pants.”

“Watch as I thrash our enemies with the mighty power of floral arrangements!“

“You’re the first woman/man/person I’ve ever spent the night with, and if I have my way you’ll be the last.“

“I love stories far too much to keep them to myself. Everyone should benefit from them, I think.”

“Oh, this looks fun! I bet we’ll have to work together and join hands and sing a happy song to get across!”

“The only way out of this game is to kill or be killed.”

“Change is coming to the world. Many fear change and will fight it with every fiber of their being. But sometimes, change is what they need the most. Sometimes, change is what sets them free.”

“You look upon the world around you and you think you know it well. I have smelled it as a wolf, listened as a cat, prowled shadows that you never dreamed existed.”

“Men are always willing to believe two things about a woman: one, that she is weak, and two, that she finds him attractive.”

“Now we threaten priests? How fun!”

“Some doors should never be re-opened.“

“’Tis a curious thing. I do not know how else to describe it.”

“If you’ve ever heard of me before, it’s probably all been about how I piss ale and murder little boys who look at me wrong. And that’s mostly true…”

“Misery, vomit and malt liquor. Ah, reminds me of home.”

“By the tits of my ancestors!”

“Shave my back and call me en elf!”

“I wish people wanted to share me more often. Especially the ladies. I want more ladies to share me.”

“Aye. I’ve tried twenty-seven different types of ale and learned I’m just the right height to give a human girl a good time. That doesn’t make me a good man.”

“I wonder what it is like to float…or drown.”

“Oooh, Shiny!”

“Now, let us crush something soft and watch it fountain blood. That is a girlish thing to want to do, yes?”

“So? What does it think? I don’t look any wider, do I? I find I am already too wide as it is.“

“Either you have an enviable memory, or a pitiable life, to know nothing of regret.”

“I am a simple creature. I like swords, I follow orders. What else is there to be puzzled by?”

“Happiness is fragile. Nothing can be built upon it that will last. Only duty endures.”

“Where is the cake? I was told there would be cake. The cake is a lie.”

“To be fooled by the world is unfortunate: By oneself, is deadly.”

“The enemy waits. Shall we grant him the death he asks of us?”

“I will not lie motionless in a bed with coverlets up to my chin, waiting for death to claim me.”

“I’m not the sort of person that leaves things unfinished. I’ll see this through, I promise.”

“You’d think one would find a less perilous place to explore.”

“People fear, not death, but having life taken from them. Many waste the life given to them, occupying themselves with things that do not matter. When the end comes, they say they did not have time enough to spend with loved ones, to fulfill dreams, to go on adventures they only talked about… But why should you fear death if you are happy with the life you have led, if you can look back on everything and say, ‘Yes, I am content. It is enough.’”

“Now that we’re in an intimate relationship I think maybe I should tell you where babies come from.”

“Love is ultimately selfish. It demands that one be devoted to a single person, who may fully occupy one’s mind and heart, to the exclusion of all else.”

“Planning has never been my strong suit. Now, killing…killing and love-making. Killing and love-making and witty retorts. Those I am better at.”

“Can you smell that? Like rotting flesh. Just like back in the City. Now if only you could find me a prostitute or two, a bowl of fish chowder and a corrupt politician, I’d really feel like I was home!”

“We all do our share of murdering around here, don’t we?”

“You tend to get up to interesting things. You meet interesting people and then you kill them. I’m game to tag along, if you are.”

“Let’s see… when was the last time I slipped my hand into some dark hole? Hmmm… I remember. Long story, that.”

“In truth, for the chance to be by your side I would storm the Dark City itself. Never doubt it.”

“We need absolute unity to fight against the fulcrum of true evil.”

“Your father made me swear on his deathbed you would not succeed him.”

“Kings, politics…all that is transitory.”

“Good to have you along the road.”

“Something you need? I’m sure either my boy or I can help you out.”

“Are you sure I can’t interest you in this hat? A pair of earrings perhaps? A cheese knife?”

“I hope your compassion hasn’t doomed us all.“

“She’ll put us all in the pot, she will. Just you watch.”

“I am a fly in the ointment. I am a whisper in the shadows. I am also an old, old woman. More than that you need not know.”

“You are required to do nothing, least of all believe. Shut one’s eyes tight or open one’s arms wide, either way, one’s a fool.”

“Be always aware… or is it oblivious? I can never remember.”

“Men’s hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature.”

“Weeks of scant food and water, the torture… oh, I’ve never felt better!“

“We should seize moments of levity, especially in troubled times.”

"Ah, I’m sure we’ll be at each other’s throats again in no time.”

“There is no glory in this!”

“I’m not a coward, but this is foolish and reckless. We should go back.”

“They’ll take everything that I am from me– my dreams, hopes, fears… My love for you. All gone…”

“Am I not allowed to have regrets?”

“I have known pain and love, hope and fear, all the joy that is life. Yet of all things I desire nothing more than an end.”

“I prefer to be known as a just and compassionate king. ‘Strong’ too often comes to mean ‘tyrannical’.”

“Maker spit on you… I deserved… more…”

“Well, well. You little spitfire. All grown up and still playing the man.”

“Be firm in your beliefs, protect people from their own ignorance, and be as loyal as you can to your brothers, even knowing that you’ll share their deaths.”

“Nothing you have done has prepared you for what you face now.”

“Oh…you mean, am I married? I…no. No, I’ve never had the pleasure. If I did, I’d be lucky to find a woman as lovely as yourself.”

“My retribution is eternal, spirit, as is my pain. This is justice, no more.”

“You, you seem like a smart sort.“

“I’ve got a job and you’re helping me.”

“Booze an’ adventure sounds about right!“

"Whoa, dizzy for a moment there… how’d I get here?“

"You should learn your place. Meek, subservient, quiet.”

“You’re a light in this dark place.”

“Girl, you are wonderful. Thank you.”

“Take my advice friend: stay away from Storytellers, never know what they’ll say…”

“Some of us don’t match the bard-spy fetish. Like me, pretending I know the lute.”

“We are always in battle. It is only that some of us do not always realize it.”

“Do you ever wish you could have the freedom to piss anywhere you wanted without being stared at?”

“Phew! Am I bleeding? Oh look, a rip in my clothes.”

“I’m not going to die am I!?”

“Why is everything so complicated!?”

“We’re alive!”

“_____, your pet is lecturing me again.”

“As a girl, I broke the fingers of those that poked me needlessly. Just saying.”

“I have a good feeling about this.”

“Come on–no time to waste.”

#meme #rp meme #Dragon Age meme #sentence starters #rp prompts

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keyofjetwolf · 4 years

Text

GIFTENING Bonus Rounds

For each category, I included a “bonus round” question. YOU GUYS KILLED IT. I loved all the answers, but listed below are some of my particular favourites.

Haruka Tenoh is trapped in the wrong anime! Which would you have her visit next?

I want her to earth shake Kyubey out of existence, please and thank you

My bride is a mermaid. She can relate. :P

i think she would THRIVE in bodacious space pirates. gay teenage space pirates whose job is to dress up, be Dramatic, and rob the wealthy??? that shit is RIGHT up her alley

Hamtaro

Princess Tutu - where the world is finally as dramatic as her

PGSM (and Michiru is trapped with her, for REASONS)

Pokemon because everyone deserves to be happy

Any moe-style series so hijinks can ensue at her being baffled by everyone's ages

1960's Speed Racer

is is this a captcha or something i missed oh god

Free! so she can be indifferent to all the hot men and slightly uncomfortable because she still can't swim.

Stick Haruka in a Gundam!

Dump her in Pretear or one of the Precures! It would be hilarious! She's never in the genre she wants to be!

Revolutionary Girl Utena, so she can be offended by misuse of roses.

Initial D, she will out-drive and out-drift all those guys and steal all their girls.

Evangelion. I would feel bad to watch her suffer, but it would be so, so funny for her to be the comparatively most normal person around.

Yakitake Japan! SO SHE CAN HAVE A SNACK OF DELICIOUS RIDICULOUS BREAD BEFORE THE NEXT INTERDIMENSIONAL ANIME STORM WHISKS HER AWAY.

The Holograms or the Misfits? DISCUSS

Holograms

both? both. BOTH IS GOOD

misfits bc Evil Ladies Hot

Steven and the stevens

Misfits. How dare you make us try to think about anything in our lives.

Both, you mad fool. Those combined songs were the best.

The Misfits, their songs are better

The Misgrams: A group of girls who form a singing telegram start up company, but constantly deliver the telegrams to the wrong people.

kimber & stormer

Neither. Limp Lizards all the way. BROKEN GLASS.

I do not know what these things are

Misfits because guitar motorcycle

The Isle of Misfit Holograms

Holograms is just arguably better

I mean, I’m told the Misfits’ songs are better, but my true answer is the band Kimber and Stormer made in that big gay episode you liveblogged (checks) almost four years ago.

I've no idea what these words mean and I hope this does not make me TOO uncool.

this is about jem, right? right?? im hip i swear

Misfits, because Jasper is a member apparently

I don't know from Jem, but I mean...I certainly prefer holographic material to Glenn Danzig? So I guess there's your answer ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The Stingers

LIMP LIZARDS FOREVER

Senshi Band

You can make me liveblog a full series of any show you want! You also hate me. What do you have me watch?

Pick a GoT rip-off, any GoT rip-off

The Bachelor?

The Bachelor :(

depends on how much i hate you, but....probably the bachelor. quantity AND lack of quality

Critical role, it would take forever

If I were a horrible person who sought only malice? Big Bang Theory. Entire series.

Toddlers and Tiaras

The Mandalorian - Disney would come after you and kill keyofjetwolf just as dead as keyofnik. We would all be very sad, you would have to go through a second round of restoring things to a new tumblr account, and your organizational heart would weep over adding yet another hosting site out of chronological order.

You are liveblogging Eva, and must discuss in full detail Shinji's emotional state at all times.

Hannity & Colmes

The Kardashians. And all of their spin offs. *kisses*

The price is right

the bachelor

Probably something with lots of romance and no friendships. Soap operas are like that, right? My college roommate used to watch General Young Light Restless Hospital of Our Lives (which one had Like and Laura?) And it was torture.

One Piece, because it's over 900 episodes so you could maybe do 10% before you die, also you will hate how the women are treated most of the time.

Fushigi Yuugi. Not only do you hate it but it also comes with you squirming when you admit to watching the whole thing. ;)

Plus belle la vie. It's an ongoing French soap opera that has been airing five days a week since 2004, they're nearing their 4000th episode and there's no end in sight. Imagine all those hours upon hours submerged in French drama, mwahahaha!!

The Bachelor. Or the Bachelorette, maybe - more straight dudes in that.

The Young and the Restless - IT IS THE LIVEBLOG THAT NEVER ENDS. IT WOULD OUTLAST THE INTERNET.

The entirety of the Bachelor franchise.

You can only play one game for the rest of your life. Which game would it be and why?

Kingdom Hearts Complete Collection. A) I love them. B) I beat the system and get like 10 games instead of one.

Gemcraft. This game actually takes a lifetime to finish.

Hatoful Boyfriend. It is the best game ever created. Feel it in your heart.

that's a mean question and you can't make me answer it

Pathfinder, which you could play for the rest of your life and still never finish.

Civ VI , so I can rule the world without leaving my house.

I am legitimately perturbed by this question and refuse to answer it.

Pokemon Go. I would have nothing else, but I would catch them all.

The Elder Scrolls Skyrim: I'll never run out of side-quests.

Mass Effect--it's the only way I'll get full completion.

The dinosaur game on Chrome when the internet doesn't connect because my life is monotonous and it's a welcome relief.

Stardew Valley. Peaceful farmer life and turning my children into doves when I'm bored with them.

Crabs Adjust Humidity

Oh my! A number of things come to mind, not one of them fit for print. Just, you know...*gestures vaguely* sex shit.

I can't even stick to the ones I play now.

This is the worst of all possible things and I refuse to answer.

Monopoly, I hate myself :(

Probably Minecraft! I haven't gotten into it because I know if I start I will NEVER STOP. Who would do things like build a hundred foot tall statue of Mako-chan? A-THAT'D BE ME.

the game. Of LIFE! *shrug emoji*

I don't believe I'll tell you, because I AM a salty little fish and it was HARD to cut that 11th choice off my vote.

Holligay and I are going to be the leads in a new buddy film. What's the premise? How does it end?

Be gay do crimes. Thelma and Louise. Duh. :P

I have no idea but only just surviving disaster is how it ends.

You break down in a small town during a roadtrip- your stay is full of hijinks and ends with you teaching the townsfolk the true meaning of friendship.

Doctor Holligay, Esquire, PhD, renowned Jewish femme of many talents, is assigned one Operative Jet Wolf as her bodyguard on a foreign diplomatic mission/vacation/culinary tour of the world ("same difference, shut up, narrator"). One problem: Operative Wolf needs a bodyguard herself, as the good doctor discovers when in one night her toilet is destroyed ("IT WAS A SECURITY THREAT") and Operative Wolf nearly breaks a leg falling down a small set of stairs ("THEY PUT A CLIFF OUTSIDE THE DOOR"). Worldwide shenanigans ensue as Holligay and Operative Wolf learn the true meaning of friendship, and also how to take care of themselves... by taking care of each other.

I’m not sure about the premise, but DEFINITELY it ends in murder.

Someone posted a major spoiler during one of your liveblogs. The two of you track them down seeking revenge. It turns out it was the original creator of the series trying to stop you. For some reason Holligay is a CGI badger.

It's clearly a buddy cop movie, and like all good buddy cop movies, it ends with Doc almost dying, and you saving her, and slapping her wound in the hospital as the credits roll.

It ends as it began: with Holligay roasting you.

A straight detective and her lesbian partner have to solve the case of the missing cinnamon buns. It ends with nobody getting the guy OR the girl and you drive off into the sunset together, perps behind bars sans cinnamon buns.

I don't know what it's about but I know it will be the only movie that ever existed.

Holligay is the lesbian chief of staff to you somehow being elected President and she's basically running the country while you're the charming face of the administration

Nerd and cowgirl meet at a bar, justifyingly murder some gross dude, go on the run from the law and have a life-changing road trip, on the way Nazis are punched

carrying a delicate object through a forest after your helicopter goes down

Thelma and Louise, but instead of dying, your deaths are clearly faked and you live on a ranch in Montana with your respective spouses and animals. One time a cop comes by the restaurant/bar you joint own with Doc and says, "You look familiar." Doc, in perfect lesbian, answers, "Jet's just got that criminal look, on account of how much she'd love to steal my cheesecake recipe. More pie?"

Queer Eye with a Straight Goy. The two of you do the show but in your own special ways.

Doc Holligay is the wild-west no-nonsense sheriff. Jet Wolf is the all-fun cyberpunk cop from the future. They punch nazis and argue about food. It ends as a tv series ala B99.

Your lives are already a buddy film, don’t get greedy.

Hands and socks. You know how it ends.

See Grumpy Old Men for details. How does it end? Badly.

I can't imagine the premise, but I'm pretty sure the planet explodes.

A Coen Bros film. It ends poorly.

Wait? You're not already living this now?

REI HINO

Sure. Why not?

HINO REI

<3<3<3<3

REI HINO!

Rei who? ;)

REI HINOOOOOOOOO

Plush Is being hugged by Zoisite in your banner.

MINAKO AINO

MAKOTO KINO

The best

SOCKS

MICHIRU KAIOH

It's time tooo.... REI! THAT! HINO!

sponsored by Here! curry

LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI [THIS REPEATS A LOT A LOT AND IS GLORIOUS] [...] LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES JETWOLF

(THE REAL ONE)

Isn't how you spell Makoto Kino!

THE REAL ONE™

obviously

IS NOT A RHINO

In conclusion: Rei Hino

Rei Hino is giving this Giftening finger guns

BEAUTIFUL, STUNNING, SHOW-STOPPING, TALENTED, AMAZING, WONDERFUL

Hot stuff, lights my fire, blazes it regularly. I am out of fire jokes.

PASSION FLAME, SAILOR MARS

These hot feelings are C'EEEEEST LAAAAA VIIIIIIE c'mon rei-chan why aren't you singing along

IS THE BEST (I know who I'm talking to)

Ara!

DID DOCTOR HOLLIGAY PHD NOMINATE THE OPTION OF TALKING ABOUT MICHIRU KAIOH FOR 6 HOURS!!

If Hot Pocket were to plan One Last Heist, what do you think would be his objective? What would be Mina's role in his master plan?

Master Hot Pocket seeks BREAD. His friend and loyal companion, Mina-pup, acts as a distraction, as he has learned the humans are easily distracted by cute. While she does her sworn duty as Best Friend and Cutest Goodest Girl, probably with lolling tongue and glee at all the pets she receives, he picks the locks on the newly childproofed pantry, and Master Howard H. Pocket FEASTS AS NO CAT HAS BEFORE.

Every bag of flour in Montana; Mina runs distraction with her adorable puppy eyes

Open every container, leave none unmarked. Mina is the lookout who greets whoever comes and is completely ineffective at her job.

TAKE ALL THE FLOUR. Do it straight from the source: FlourCo Inc. What does a 10-pound cat do with eighty thousand tons of flour? If you can't figure that out, there's a reason he's the brains of this outfit. Mina would obviously be the bumbling lovable distraction to security or other people.

Bread. Mina is The Face who provides distraction to the Keepers of the Bread by walking up to them and being herself. Mina has absolutely no idea that Hot Pocket is using her in this manner because Hot Pocket is that Machiavellian, but Mina is a pocket full of sunshine in canine form and probably would just be happy to help out.

Hot Pocket knows that no mammal of the floor believes in flour anymore. It went away a long time ago. It doesn't exist. But what he also knows is that they're wrong. A lack of opposable thumbs won't hide the truth from him. He'll find the stash, and when he does, he'll stick his paw in it. Mina, with her limited climbing skills, will lick its remains from his claw and prove his discovery. As well as provide a warm place to curl up on for the aftermath of their adventure.

His goal is to sample every edible thing he can get his teeth on. Mina pulls triple duty as step stool, distraction, and scape goat

The Silver Crystal. Mina would play the role of Sailor V.

He is getting ALL THE FLOUR. Mina is a lovable distraction.

Looting all the carbs in the pantry. mina is distraction.

mina's role would be the "dopey" but talented best friend who it looks like HP is going to betray for the sake of the plan but then it all comes together when HP mounts a dramatic rescue. i dunno i'm still in film mode from that last one.

The Holy Bread Locked Within the Cupboard. Mina would be the distraction, but she'd forget what she was supposed to be distracting from and end up leading you to him.

I am the Void. I am the Night. I am the Darkness with no hope of dawn. The Flour trembles before me in it's bleached fluffiness. It shall not escape my chaos, which will descend upon it like the Terrors of the Deep, claws and teeth and gnashing. It will howl at my claws. It will scream for my teeth, sharp and white, stars in the night of my fur. I shall tend and tear and -- Dammit, Dog-thing! How am I supposed to be terrible and terrifying with you wagging your tail and panting at me!? Oh, you found a good warm sunbeam? I guess I can stalk stuff later. I am the Void. I shall absorb the Sun's light and warmth and bring it into my Darkness where it cannot escape...

I'm new here and don't know all the complex lore of Jetwolf(fairly sure Mina is dog), so I'm going to assume that Hot Pocket is an actual hot pocket and his heist is robbing Fort Knox using Mina as his loyal stead/get away car. Then he explodes a microwave or something.

i lik the bred

Mina as the distraction while he takes one last tastes of EVERYTHING

objective--stealing more chips; Mina--surprise betrayal

The scene: Mama Jet's pantry The Objective: the bag of cake flour Aunt Doc made Mama Jet buy but she's never used Mina: confused but excited escape vehicle and/or scapegoat

RAIDING THE KING ARTHUR FLOUR FACTORY. Mina is of course adorable and keeps everyone's attention while Hot Pocket swan dives into the flour like Uncle Scrooge

Hot Pocket would definitely try to steal a monument, Carmen SanDiego style. Mina, of course, is the multi-talented and super cute face of the operation.

I have no idea who Hot Pocket is

HP would try to scale the tallest building in the world. Not to steal anything, just to be up there. Mina would be the adorable diversion.

It would be to get whatever food you've left on the counter. Preferably bread. He would tell Mina that he'll give her some of she acts as a distraction. She's a good dog so she does. He's a cat so she gets no food.

Truly, truly, THE GIFTENING winner is us all.

#THE GIFTENING 2019 #THE GIFTENING 2019 admin stuff #long post for ts

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ice-cream-nekogirl · 4 years

Photo

What am I now? What am I now? What if I'm someone I don't want around? I'm fallin' again I'm fallin' again I'm fallin'

-’Falling’ by Harry Styles

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dRDKoMcgavw

I’ve seen and read a lot of fanfictions where it’s told from the POV of one character and that inspired me to write this but... it’s not happy... much... and Harry Styles’ song just also inspired me to write out this fairly sad piece because that song is such a tearjerker man..

I like to this of this as an inside look of the witch's mind and thoughts as well as her opening up about her issues.

WARNING: This small piece contains mentions and/or references to suicide and intrusive thoughts. Reader discretion is advised.

Interestingly... I've come to realize that Amy's behavior makes sense if you know what Borderline Personality Disorder is and what the symptoms are. Many of which she actually checks out for. I study a lot of psychology in my spare time and to my surprise, Amy ended up showing some symptoms even though I swear to God it wasn’t my intention, it just kinda... ended up like that.

For more info or insight on BPD:

https://www.yahoo.com/lifestyle/comic-perfectly-shows-jealousy-looks-232343129.html

https://psychcentral.com/lib/loving-someone-with-borderline-personality-disorder/

Amy’s POV:

Apparently most children get their quirks at the age as early as 3 or 4, but when I was 4 years old I didn’t get mine. 5, 6,7,8,9, still nothing. That was it, I guess that just meant I was going to be quirkless forever, on the bright side at least I would be part of a minority that I could one day fight for I thought. If I’m gonna be quirkless I would own it. That’s what I told myself.

But then one day when I was 9 years old I woke up over my bed, floating around my room until my mom came in to make sure I came down safely. She told me everything, how her side of the family has a bloodline of witches that dates all the way back in the 1800’s and one of my great great great grandmothers or something had the same genetic affliction. Just like that everything became different, when I thought it was awesome at first, started to learn just what I am and who I am, and the history of all the great witches of the past. Slowly but surely I discovered more powers about myself, more powers I would one day learn.

Everything was brilliant… until the following year my parents were killed by witch hunters. Dad wasn’t even a witch, he was just an ally, he loved my mom and I more than anything, and they killed him for that. Worst part? When the heroes got to me before I could get barbecued, they didn’t even kill them.

I suppose that’s where it all begins though, after that they decided I wasn’t going to be safe enough here and that my new powers that were manifesting would be too much for them to handle. And because they didn’t want to deal with me, they called on the other witches on the other side of the world. From then on out, I had to leave my old life behind, my best friend and his family who treated me like family. I went from orphaned, to abandoned, to a bloodbath.

As soon as I got to New Orleans everything else was just as unsafe. Asshole frat boys, an actual Minotaur man, fucking zombies, voodoo witches and of course MORE witch hunters trying to kill us. And also an immortal racist, a Frankenstein Frat boy, a tongueless butler who has tea parties and sex with dead teenage girls, a wicked voodoo deity and an old, axe-wielding serial killer that was once a ghost in Robichaux. Yup. But that’s just a perfectly average day at Robichaux, and a perfectly average day in my fucked up life.

At least I had my sisters like Zoe, Madison and Misty, and Ms. Cordelia and how can I forget Ms. Myrtle? That woman needs to be a fashion icon and I will do justice by her and make sure the world knows who she was. And even Ms. Fiona. The bitch who used to be in charge was pretty badass, I mean if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be the strong, independent witch bitch I am today. Yeah I have a ton of issues because of the borderline emotional abuse she dished out on me and the other witches but still...

My new sisters were by far the least terrible part of the entire thing. Which is why it still breaks my heart to think about how some of them died, because not all of them came back...

Through all of that I kept myself up though. I learned how to fight back and fight alongside my sisters. I learned how to be strong, how to rely on myself and my sisters because we knew that no hero was going to come to our rescue. I had to be strong, I had to have thick skin and an elastic heart. Yeah that’s right I referenced Sia, she’s an awesome singer, just like Stevie Nicks. Amazing women, inspiring...

Sorry, getting off-topic. Anyhoo, I’ve realized though that it’s better that way. Being with the witches showed me the truth of the world, how the world looks at us and how it wants us to look. We have to be perfect, we have to be charming, we have to smile and look pretty. Why? Because the heroes have to be there to save the cute and pretty damsel in distress so they can feel powerful.

This idea of heroes and villains is really all just bullshit... all of these villains I’ve seen thus far... they’re kittens compared to the evils and horrors I’ve seen here. It’s not just New Orleans, but I mean Bloody Face was a monster back in the 50′s, then the man who made the Hotel Cortez, he was pure evil and still haunts that hotel to this day. James Patrick March. Evil. Pure Evil and he murdered just to feel something, innocent people who didn’t deserve it. Dr. Arthur Arden, a.k.a Hans Gruper, the Nazi doctor who hid under a disguise and performed horrifying experiments on humans in the insane asylum of Briarcliff. Instead of helping those poor people, he just murdered, butchered and tortured them for his sick experiments. So many lives ruined, mutilated. The victim’s last moments were nothing but pain and a desperate wish for death until he put a bullet through their heads.

Murders, monsters, all of them. They all murdered for fun, and then even normal people were evil, the ones who valued their pride and selfish desires over anything and destroyed innocence itself just to achieve that.

Those are the real evil people. All For One? Overhaul? Shigaraki? They couldn’t slice a loaf of bread with the amount of sharpness they had all put together.

Those ‘villains’ that All-Might and my friend Midoriya have fought thus far are nothing compared to the monsters I’ve seen. They’re all a bunch of kitty cats, but I’ve seen and known killers. Real killers. Real monsters.

A woman from an old asylum once said that ‘all monsters are human’ and she was right, because the monsters I’ve seen were humans. The worst of humanity and I've seen it all. What heroes choose to ignore though is that it's in all of us, and that those who choose not to do shitty things is what makes a hero apoarently. What a crock of shit...

But I guess monsters are just another thing that the heroes like to glamorize so they can fight and save the world from what they deem as the real monsters of the world. When I showed that I wasn’t a sweet and gentle girl as he believed, Midoriya looked at me like I was a monster, which just proved to me that he’s a part of what I’m fighting, and that that’s what this society wants, a good little girl who does good things all for the sake of this society. And I’m a monster because I’m not a good little girl, my sisters aren’t good little girls, no, we’re not a bunch of sad girls who are just waiting to be rescued, we’re witches. We’re not giving those motherfuckers the satisfaction of saving the poor damsels in distress because we’re not, we’re powerful and we don’t owe them anything, not a thanks, not a hug, not a flash of our tits and especially not a goddamn smile that men just love to see on women.

Men like that are afraid of women like us, they’re afraid of women who aren’t afraid to get ugly and dirty our hands with blood. Afraid of women like me. And I learned how to fight, I was able to keep myself flying, because that was my first power, flight. I can fly based on how I feel, or on how much willpower I put into it. My power comes from my emotions and no fucking misogynist can tell me my emotions make me weak because I can do anything I want based on how I feel and how much willpower I have.

Lately though, it’s been nothing but willpower, as the older I get the more I realized that I’m not loved in this place. I wouldn’t be missed if I disappeared and I know it. I know it. But in life young people like me have to keep going even though we’re also gifted with the power of being painfully aware of all the bullshit that adults try to tell us is the truth, but we know better than that, they just don’t get that we’re not as stupid as we look. Although the sad part is, some of us ARE and they buy into the bullshit and try so hard to be the perfect little shitheads these assholes want us to be.

I can’t do that though, that’s not me. I wish it was sometimes though, who knows, maybe if I was that kind of person then maybe I would be liked by everyone, but that’s not me. Maybe that’s why I won’t be missed, maybe that’s why I’m forcing myself to fly every damn day just to make it through. Forcing myself to pretend that everything’s fine and smiling like a fucking idiot just to make everyone happy and not let them be miserable as me, but this shit’s hard, it’s hard to act like you’re okay when you’re not.

And I’m too aware of this shit, too aware to be truly ignorant and I call people out if I think they sound ignorant. So I’m not surprised when they end up leaving me or trying to tell me to be nicer and that I shouldn’t be blaming anybody or anything just because I’m a cynical and miserable bitch. Yeah, I’m a bitch but I can’t help it. At least I know my shit, I’d rather be a miserable bitch than an ignorant one.

Yet here I am, constantly miserable, constantly thinking and constantly aware that I’m nobody’s favorite person.

That’s just it. I’m not surprised by anything, because everything I do, everything I say, there’s always something bad behind it, that’s the idea I give everyone. I know it, it shouldn’t bother me but apparently, I can’t bring myself to fly because I’m happy, because I’m not. And then there’s always something that shows up in my life, something to make me feel some type of way, not a good way though. I can’t help the way I react to some things, I wish I could though, a normal person would be able to just go out and live life the way everyone else does. But I’m not normal. I never was. And every single day I’m reminded of it, every single day I remind myself it.

Every time I fly it’s through willpower alone, not because I’m so excited that my feelings can make me fly. No, lately I haven’t been able to feel a goddamn thing, and ironically that’s what hurts the most.

For someone who’s first gift was flight and for someone who’s powers allow them to fly, I’m just… falling.

Constantly, every time I fly, I just feel like I’m falling as the weight of this world just keeps beating me down until one day I eventually hit rock bottom. I don’t expect anyone to catch me, not even my loved ones. I feel like I’ve hurt them enough. Everyone I love, I end up hurting in some way because I’m just a jealous, overzealous, toxic and cynical bitch. I don’t deserve them and they don't deserve this. All this poison, all this anger and problems, I don't want that for them.

So I don’t tell them that I’m falling when I’m flying. If I’m gonna fall, I’m not going to drag them down with me.

Rock bottom almost doesn’t sound like a bad idea at this point. There are times where I get so frustrated with everything, so angry and so pissed off that I need to get away from everything and everybody and I let myself fly upwards. I just fly as high as possible, so high that I’m in the clouds and I can no longer see the rest of the world beneath me.

God... sometimes I get so high that I just want to stay up there. I want to stay feeling so high and so powerful like nothing can stop me. I’m invincible when I’m up so high. And yet that honestly terrifies me too, because when I’m up so high I forget everything, even the things and the people I don’t want to forget. How could I ever want to forgive some of the people I love the most?

When I remember them, that’s when I regain my vision and I start to see how high I’ve gotten, and how far it is to go back down. Everyone can see me and they can see how far I’ve gone, even up that high I can still see their disappointed faces and that just no longer makes me feel so invincible anymore. Because then I start to think ‘here I am’ up on top and yet I’m all alone up here.

Sometimes when I’m up that high is when I start to think about just letting go of the willpower and letting myself fall from such a distance, close my eyes and just let everything go. Let the gravity just bring me back down until I hit the ground.

And then I wonder, would that matter at all? Would it be better that way?

But as usual, I can never think of a fucking answer… other than that I should probably just go back home because I have people waiting for me. Ashlen, Hitoshi, Katsuki, Madison... I hope they're not too worried about me... I know they want to see me come home even though I’m the last person I want around, and I honestly don’t know how they want me around.

Yet I guess it’s enough to make myself fly a little more, just to go back to them, because in the end I feel a little bit of something when I’m with them. They’ve moved my wicked heart, even when I think I’m better off dead, they make me fly.

I don’t know if I saved myself, or if it’s them who saved me, because frankly it’s too late to save me, but I’m still here. I’m still here so I can go home and see them.

God... I haven’t been home for a while, but I’m on my way back home, I know they’re waiting for me, probably worried about me too.

Ash, Toshi, Katsu, Mads... You guys don’t have to worry, I’m coming home now. After all, I wouldn’t miss seeing your smiles for the world.

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zutarawasrobbed · 5 years

Text

After The War (Zutara Exchange 2019)

My exchange piece for @addictofreading I hope you enjoy! This is Chapter one of two. I hope to have Chapter two done by Friday at the latest.

Rating: T

FF.net

AO3

Chapter summary: Katara needs time to deal with the consequences of facing her mothers murderer. Zuko knows somewhere they can go.

The wind is calm as the waves hit the sand. The moon is at its highest point and the stars light up the sky. Ember Island always has the best views. Katara hates admitting this though. For so long she saw the Fire Nation as the root of all evil. But the past few months have changed a lot. Three months ago she arrived in the the Fire Nation and within those three months, she had an epiphany—the Fire Nation was no different than any of the other nations. A nation itself is not inherently evil, she realized, only the people and their actions can determine the outcome of a nation.

In three months Katara learned the bending practices of her tribe at the price of learning bloodbending. But she also saved many Fire Nation villages. And as a result she learned about the people and that they aren’t so different from her after all. She had an enemy who became her teammate. That teammate took her on a life changing journey, and then that teammate became her friend. They now take residence in the very home of the man who they are meant to defeat in the upcoming month. And the irony doesn’t stop there. You see, while people see her and the Fire Lord’s son as friends, they are only seeing half of the picture. Because only a week after their newfound friendship, it turned into something more.

After Yon Rha

Katara spent the first week after the confrontation of Yon Rha wrapped up in Zuko’s arms crying her eyes out from flashbacks she thought she buried over years of self determination and distraction. Zuko thought it would be a good idea to wait a few days before sending word to the rest of the gaang where they were so that Katara could have the time she needed to breathe.

The first night after the confrontation, she and Zuko found shelter in a dam cave looking over the bluffs of Whale tale Island. Aside from the howling winds and drops of rain, it was otherwise quiet. Night came and so did the memories.

Katara started hyperventilating and crying hysterically. She was having a flashback. And it scared her. She never felt so much in such a short amount of time. It was like a dam broke and all the emotions she locked away for years came flooding out of her mind. She couldn’t breathe. The whole room was spinning. A minute later Zuko entered the room and gave her a look that said more than any words ever could. He understood. And with that look, she knew she could breathe.

It was the first time she had gotten to mourn Kya’s death. As a child, there had been no time; After Kya’s death she didn’t have time to mourn, the war was in full swing and the tribe was panicked and shocked at the news of their chief being slaughtered. The people were told a different story from the truth. The people were told that Kya’s death was planned from the beginning to wreak havoc amongst her people and create unrest. They never learned the truth. They never learned the real target was Kya’s daughter for being born a crime.

Katara didn’t have time to ponder that or take in the lie she would have to continue to feed her people over the years. She didn’t even flinch when her father left. She understood. If Katara had been old enough she would’ve joined him and taken out all her anger on the nation that took her mother from her.

But her father was gone, the new chief was leading their tribe’s army to protect their land. So there wasn’t time to grieve over her slaughtered mother and neglectful father—all she could do was get to work and help lead her people. She grew up too fast and she knew that. But she didn’t realize just how much of a toll this would take on her. And she never imagined she would be feeling all of these emotions while splayed in the arms of the man whose father took both their mothers from them.

She could hear the steady heartbeat rumbling in Zuko’s chest. It comforts her. Like a lullaby telling her it was all going to be okay. This lullaby helps abate her tears. It soothes her and makes her feel at home… Who would’ve thought she would find a home in the arms of the enemy, in the heart of the enemy? Whoa. easy there Katara. You’re entering enemy territory…

She woke up with her head on his chest and to the sight of a peaceful firebender holding her in a manner so gentle, she could break it with a whisper.

It doesn’t take long after her subtle movement, for his eyes to open. And when they do, Katara swears she feels fire being bent up her spine to her cheeks. Have his eyes always been this gold?

The second night they arrive at Zuko’s old family vacation home in Ember island. The air was stale from lack of use over the years and doors were closed to rooms Katara could only assume held bad memories from a tortured past. One room called out to her. It turned out to be Azula’s room as a child. Strange how so much could be said about a person through the possessions they held as a child. The room was decorated modestly. What stood out was the headless doll which Zuko said was given to her from their Uncle. The more she analyzed the room, the more stifling it felt and anger took the place of curiosity. Azula had a childhood. She did not.

After what felt like hours of contemplation, Katara decided this room was too much for her to handle, and sought out the comfort she was given yesterday. She felt a pull in her chest she dare not name, and found Zuko in his room doing the same thing she was... Remembering. He didn’t hear her come in. He was too transfixed on the small dagger he always kept with him. The look in his eyes was glassy. A look she knew all too well from looking at her mothers necklace. The room was dark by choice, she knew the feeling, this old room must hold too much pain for him. Where the pain came from was unclear. Was it from good memories that went sour over time? Or was it bad memories that festered as he got older?

As soon as she exhales in solidarity with his pain, he turns to her, and the emotions explode like a boiling volcano waiting to erupt from the pressure, building inside.

That night was a repeat of the first. With one key difference. This time when she cries into his chest, Zuko doesn’t stay still. This time she can feel his hands in her hair. Caressing each strand as if it were mere strands of gold. It’s soothing? Soothing is not a word she would’ve ever associated with a firebender. But that’s what this is, and Katara is not one to lie. So she admits it to herself. Zuko is soothing her. Zuko is… soothing.

Morning comes and the sun casts a light into Zuko’s childhood room. It’s a strange feeling, waking up at dawn. But she finds she kind of likes it. She likes feeling the calm that comes with the light of the sun rising and the knowledge of the moon setting. Her pillow is also quite comfortable; its constant rhythm is a melody she’s coming to memorize. Katara knows this could be potentially dangerous. Using her former enemy’s chest as a pillow, and the melody of his heart as her song. But feeling his arms wrapped protectively around her and a gentle hand cradling her head to his heart. She can’t find it in herself to care. In fact… She revels in it.

The third night is not like the first two. Zuko is there holding her again. It’s become a silent understanding between the two. They keep their distance in the sun, they come together in the night. Tonight is different. Because while Zuko holds her to his chest as gently as he has before, she does not cry... And as she feels sleep taking over her, she hears something other than their joined heartbeats. One word spoken before sleep takes her. One word whispered as if the wind itself was sending it to her ears.

“Beautiful.”

This is bad. This is dangerous. Katara knows she’s in trouble. Last night’s word could’ve been from a dream, a thought, or even wishful thinking. There was no way Zuko would ever think of her in such a way. She is a peasant, she is a waterbender, she is- ‘“beautiful.”

No! I am not-

“-Beautiful.”

She’s in trouble…

The fourth night is tense. The message has been sent with Appa to meet them at Zuko’s old family vacation home on Ember Island. The peace of the past three nights is gone. In its place is a tension with questions and the knowledge that their sense of privacy and peace will soon end. Zuko is still holding her close. Only this time, Katara can swear he is holding her to his chest for not only her comfort, but his own. There is a new sense of intimacy tonight. She can’t stop thinking about how Zuko called her pretty. What did this mean? This unspoken agreement between them was becoming more and more complicated. And the silence was starting to get stifling rather than comforting.

What if I made the wrong decision? I bloodbent again. Am I a monster?… I’m a monster-

“You’re not a monster, Katara.”

She stills. How long was she talking out loud? How much did he hear? But these thoughts come to a close as she realizes Zuk isn’t done talking.

“You’re beautiful.” He says these words as if they’re indisputable facts. His voice is groggy. It’s past midnight. He must not even know what he’s saying.

At least that’s what she tells herself to excuse what she did next. It was quick but no less meaningful.

Katara gently removes herself from Zuko’s broad chest to look at his face. His eyes are open, but they’re clearly clouded with exhaustion. His eyes widen as he sees her looking at him with such softness. She reaches her hand slowly to cup his face. He stays still, unmoving, his eyes still wide with questions she herself didn’t know the answers to. So she doesn’t try. Instead, she lets her actions speak for her her as she presses a gentle kiss to his scarred cheek.

It’s quick. Lasts no more than two- maybe three seconds. But it’s enough for both of their body temperatures to heat up. More Zuko than her, obviously. His body suddenly feels like an inferno, but she doesn't move away. She’s too shocked at what she’s just done to move.

“Katara, I-”

“Don’t.” She quickly removes her eyes from his face and prepares to flee from the situation she just thrust herself into. He stops her before she can.

Morning comes, and so does the memories of last night. Last night wasn’t the same as before. This time there was a bed and they were actually cuddling. No more hardwood floors. No more using cloaks as blankets. Instead they were in an actual bed with silk sheets and feathered comforters. Instead of gripping onto Zuko’s tunic for purchase as the tears rolled down her face, he’s holding her from behind with his arms gently encircling her exposed stomach.

It got too hot in the middle of the night so they both decided it was best to shed some clothing. Katara lays in only her wrappings, while Zuko wears only his pants. She hates to admit it, but she’s never felt more comfortable in her life. She feels safe. She feels warm. She feels… like home. Very dangerous indeed.

The evening breeze is warm, but chilling at the same time. They decided to get dinner in town tonight. They walk in silence, side by side. So close to touching but not quite. They spent the day away from each other trying to gather their thoughts. It was Katara who broke the silence and suggested eating out. Stupid decision, really. It’s one thing to spend time alone in a house together but- okay, yeah. She can admit it doesn’t get much more intimate than that. Except you let him sleep with you last night… In a bed… Okay, that was a good point. You also cuddled him, too. Don’t act like you didn’t sniff his hair and touch his abs when he was asleep. Okay, her brain really needed to stop calling her out. It’s not fair.

Dinner was served and Katara was surprised to find out that ocean kumquats were very similar to sea prunes and that Zuko seemed to enjoy them. Apparently being banished for three years leads people into trying new things. But that’s not what’s important. They had to talk. It seems Zuko knew that better than her and decided to break the silence.

“The rest of team will be arriving in two days…”

“I know.” Katara sighs in defeat. She did know. But she didn’t want to think about that. Things were too complicated now. She wishes she could go back to hating Zuko. That was simple. Back then, there was no gray area. Now, all there ever seems to be is gray. But not between good and evil. Not between love and hate- she doesn’t think hating him would even be possible at this point. But maybe… Maybe she never did. Questions like this only make things harder…

“I’m sorry for last night.”

That got her attention. Apparently the shock on her face was evident enough for him to continue, “I mean. I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for betraying you back in the caves. I’m sorry for hunting down your friends—I never wanted anyone to get hurt—I still don’t. I never meant for anything to happen-”

Katara could tell he was just saying whatever words he could get out of his mouth. It was kind of adorable actually... A lot of things have been adorable about Zuko lately… “I’m not.”

Those words shut him up. “What? What do you-”

Katara reaches across their table and grabs his hands.

“I’m not sorry for last night. I wanted it. Nothing happened, but…” a blush started heating her face. “I know what you’re feeling.”

Zuko gulps. “You do?”

“I think so… I hope so.” She whispers the last sentence to herself. She needs to be more upfront. They’re too similar. She knows he’s not going to make the first move because she won't either. But someone has to. Someone has to start talking and stop avoiding things. She knows where their avoidance comes from. Fear.

Fear of losing someone. They both lost someone. Their mothers. Their homes. Themselves… The idea of talking about something that could change everything they’ve both worked so hard to create is what stops her—what stops them. Zuko’s never backed down from a challenge before. She knows that because she’s seen it with her own eyes. Watching his undying determination to get what he wanted was really inspiring. Even while they were on opposite sides, she could always admire his strength. He never gave up and neither did she. They never backed down from a fight. But emotions… That’s a different story. They both lost so much. They only just found each other. She knows how he’s feeling.

He’s feeling like he’s finally found a piece of himself he didn’t even know was missing. Someone who understands him, through and through. Someone who can see what he’s thinking before he does. Katara knows this because she feels the same way. She wants to tell him she understands. Tell him that she knows the fear in his eyes because they match her own. But one of them has to make the first move… So, she goes first.

“Zuko, I-” The words die on her lips because another pair are very much in the way at the moment. And she has no desire to stop them. Everything around her stills as she finally gives in to what she’s been holding back inside her for so long.

Kissing Zuko was not like kissing anyone else. Kissing Jet was rough and passionate, but that’s all it was. He was her first kiss and she’ll always cherish that first experience. Kissing Aang was… well, it wasn’t really anything. The first time they kissed was a do or die situation. She didn’t really think much of it. It just was. Never in a million years would she think he actually felt something for her. She thought he understood where they stood. She was his guide, he was her responsibility. To say him kissing her at the invasion was a shock, would be an understatement. It was surprising but also very abrupt. She didn’t really have enough time to react. All she knew was that when it was over, it wasn’t what she wanted. But Zuko…

Kissing Zuko was like swimming in a hot spring slowly boiling over. It felt hot and cold at the same time. Push and pull, water and fire… Balance. It felt like two puzzle pieces finally coming together to make something amazing. It was soft and gentle. Yet strong and intense all the same. Passion was there. But not overwhelmingly so. It was perfect. You will marry a powerful bender.

Both she and Zuko pull back at the same time as soon those words flew through her mind. Did he hear it, too?

Little did Katara know that Zuko was hearing something similar in his brain as well Destiny is a funny thing, Prince Zuko.

That night they don’t leave each other’s side. They spend the rest of the evening watching the stars on the beach and when Zuko gives her a shell saying it reminded him of her, she kissed his burnt cheek and rested her head on his shoulder with his arms around her keeping her close to his chest.

#zutara #zutara exchange #zutara fanfiction #zuko x katara #Zuko and Katara #@addictofreading #my writing

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theworkofxanderking · 4 years

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The Originals: Bad Blood (Alternative Season 5)

Episode Six: From Here to Hell Town (Part One of Two)

Warnings: I do not own the original content to “The Originals”, “The Vampire Diaries” or “Legacies” or any of the characters from the television shows.

15 plus, displays of Violence, Gore, Torture, M/M, F/M, F/F.

Klaus found himself walking through the woods of Mystic Falls which looked exactly like it did a thousand years ago a time when things may have been simpler but were far less tolerable.

He vamp sped through the forest only to find him back in the same spot so he continued to vamp speed and try and escape but kept returning to the same point much to his disappointment.

“No matter how hard you try Niklaus everything always leads back to here.” Nathaniel said to him appearing from out of thin air much to Klaus’ surprise.

“What kind of bloody spell have you cast on me?” Klaus snapped at him.

“This is no spell Niklaus I am only here because I’m on your mind.” Nathaniel replied with a smile across his face.

“Of course, you’re on my mind you’re a treacherous bastard I would’ve done anything for you, and you return after a thousand years to treat me and my family like chess pieces.” Klaus shouted while walking towards Nathaniel.

“That’s not how I recall it I asked you to leave this place with me, but you couldn’t.” Nathaniel responded. “I wanted a life with you and instead we both have had several lifetimes without each other.”

“Why are you doing all this?” Klaus snapped while grabbing a hold of Nathaniel. “What did I do to ever deserve this from you?”

“You ripped out my heart,” Nathaniel replied as Klaus found himself choking on blood only to look down to see Nathaniel’s hand inside his chest. “Now I will rip out yours.”

Suddenly Klaus woke up in his bed shirtless and sweating while heaving panting looking around his bedroom to realize, he was at the compound and it was all just a dream. Sadly, the return of his former love now possible enemy was no dream but a living nightmare.

Hope and Hayley were in the bayou fight training with each other each wearing boxing gloves and gym gear Hope managing to hold her own against her mother but neither hitting the other particularly hard clearly not wanting to hurt each other and training to keep themselves ready for a fight they had a feeling was coming.

“Not too bad!” Hayley said as she threw a punch in her daughter’s direction only for Hope to duck and miss Hayley’s fist.

“I had a good teacher.” Hope replied as she launched her foot at her mother’s legs tripping her up in the process and causing Hayley to fall to the ground back first. “Now are we going to talk about my uncle Henrik returning from the dead all grown up and ready to kill us all or is everyone going to just keep lying to me?”

“We’re not trying to hide anything from you Hope it’s just we don’t really know much right now.” Hayley answered her daughter while rising back on her feet. “Rebekah’s gone to some weird ass ghost town to speak to this Malus guy under some illusion she can get more information out of him I mean if anyone could it’d be your aunt Bex.”

“You know just once I’d like to get a family reunion that doesn’t end in somebody being murdered.” Hope responded with a sigh. “I can’t believe Aunt Rebekah gets to go witch hunting for possibly the most mysterious sounding witch in history and I’m stuck here, no offense.”

“Offense taken,” Hayley said with a sarcastic smile. “Rebekah has history with him and she’s immortal so she’s allowed to go witch hunting you however are a 15-year-old girl who should be studying not hunting.”

“Please mum I’m part wolf and their all about hunting not to mention my father is an original vampire and we all know they are the number one predator.” Hope said making it clear she was not a little girl anymore. “I’m not saying I want to be thrown into every crazy situation our family gets into because quite frankly nobody’s got enough time in the calendar for that, but I want to get involved from time to time instead of always feeling left out.”

“Hope you are involved,” Hayley told her as she gave her daughter a hug. “Everything we do both your father and I is to keep you safe to give you a better life than either of us ever had.”

“I know that’s what you think your doing but I’m not some little princess who needs protecting I’m a Tribrid and I’m pretty sure I could take you.” Hope said as she brushed off her mother’s hug.

“You think so huh?” Hayley laughed. “I’ll tell you what the next Mikaelson mission I go on you can come with but only if you can beat me.”

“I’ll take it easy on you mother by not using any magic because that would be too easy.” Hope replied with a sinister smirk eager to prove herself as a formidable opponent.

Rebekah drove down an empty clearly run down road while driving a luxury sports car with the roof down so the wind would freely blow her hair as she blared music only for Bonnie who was sitting on the passenger seat to switch off the radio much to Rebekah’s dismay.

“Do you really need to switch off my music every bloody time I’m just starting to get into the song?” Rebekah asked her while keeping her eye on the road.

“You asked me to come with you to a creepy ghost town to meet a creepy witch now is not the time for music.” Bonnie moaned at her.

“You could’ve simply said no and left me to face the wicked old witch by myself after all I’ve faced many in my time.” Rebekah replied to her.

“All three Malus witches are a threat to not only you and your siblings but anyone who possesses magic which includes my witches in New Orleans, your niece Hope who I can imagine is quite high up on the list being an all-powerful Tribrid and then myself of course. Not to mention once their done with New Orleans they’ll probably head straight for Mystic Falls where there’s a school filled with magical students.” Bonnie said to Rebekah making it clear she was literally carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders in that moment.

“You are truly remarkable Bonnie Bennet I struggle to care for my own siblings at time’s Niklaus especially which I’m sure you can understand why and yet you somehow care for everyone.” Rebekah complimented her. “But here’s a little hint from one girl to another loving everybody else leaves very little time for loving yourself and a lot of time for heartbreak after heartbreak.”

“Enzo used to always tell me to be a little more selfish.” Bonnie replied with a smirk before a look of heartbreak crossed her face. “I tried that with him, and it ended with Stefan ripping his heart out right in front of me and me having to be a bridesmaid while my best friend married the man who killed the one, I loved.”

“See that the there is not selfish that’s the epitome of Bonnie Bennet only you would do something like that after what Stefan took from you I would’ve ripped his heart out on his pretty wedding to Caroline and made sure blood drenched her wedding dress purely for the satisfying visuals and dramatic effect.” Rebekah revealed.

“Trust me there were many times I pictured killing Stefan and then he died, and I couldn’t help but blame myself for not saving him.” Bonnie admitted. “I despised him and yet I still felt guilty because my best friend the most loving person in the world lost her husband the same day, she married him.”

“If you ask me Caroline had a lucky escape loving Stefan Salvatore only ends in heartache especially when doppelgangers are in the mix even if Elena chose Damon in the end I’m sure Katherine would find some way of claiming Stefan even from the great beyond.” Rebekah reassured Bonnie in typical Rebekah fashion. “Besides Caroline needs someone who challenges her, someone who can handle her and who she can handle.”

“I swear if you say Klaus, I’m throwing myself out of this car right now.” Bonnie laughed.

“Believe it or not Bonnie but when us Mikaelson’s love we love with every fiber of our being even if the world sees us as monsters.” Rebekah replied with a sigh of sadness.

“I know it’s just when also when you hate you hate with every fiber of your being.” Bonnie admitted causing Rebekah to laugh.

“Bonnie Bennet I think I’m beginning to like you or at least tolerate you.” Rebekah revealed as she gave Bonnie a smile before returning her attention to the road. “I sure hope you don’t wind up dead today.”

Klaus walked into the dining area of the compound to find Hayley, Marcel and Elijah sitting at his table clearly having a conversation which had been hushed by his arrival making Klaus keen to know what his family had been keeping from him this time.

“Please don’t tell me another mistake of mine has crawled out of their graves to torment me further.” Klaus said to them.

“Actually, we just having a conversation about a Mikaelson representative at the faction meetings.” Marcel with a wicked smile clearly ready for the inevitable drama to unfold.

“Finally, some good news,” Klaus responded with a smile of his own. “I promise to try and be as reasonable as possible and perhaps even attempt following some rules.”

“Yeah see I agreed to a Mikaelson representative, but I never said I was going to agree to it being you.” Marcel revealed to him as he stood up from his chair.

“Please there is no Mikaelson better fitting than me!” Klaus snapped.

“History shows that there is no Mikaelson less fitting than you.” Hayley said as she too stood up from her chair. “Out of all the Mikaelson’s you have the most enemies and that’s quite a feat considering Kol has less enemies than you.”

“Kol has the right attitude but fails to make a lasting impression like I do.” Klaus replied with a sinister smirk.

“Brother it really is in the family’s best interest that we make this work this time around with as little bloodshed as possible.” Elijah told his younger brother as he was the last to stand up from his chair.

“That’s easy for you to say I was once a king in this city!” Klaus shouted. “And now you want me to be what another local?”

“Hey at least now you can put your full attention on seeking out Henrik and Nathaniel where are we on that by the way?” Marcel said to Klaus attempting to change the subject.

“Rebekah and bloody Bonnie Bennett are heading to some hell town as we speak to seek them out,” Klaus snapped while looking at Marcel, Hayley and Elijah with pure fury in his eyes. “However, I may advise them to switch sides with me and align ourselves with Henrik instead.”

“Bonnie is the least likely person to ever work alongside you Klaus.” Hayley said with a smirk clearly amused by Klaus’ rage.

“This will not stand!” Klaus shouted before looking at Elijah. “You’re the Mikaelson representing at these meetings.”

“Yes, but I promise to work alongside you as much as possible brother.” Elijah admitted to him.

“Well good luck to the lot of you because the only thing more boring than endless meetings is Elijah and you’ve just aligned the two now that’s the ultimate enemy give me psychotic witches and long lost zombie siblings any day over meetings with Elijah.” Klaus moaned in a fit before vamp speeding out of the dining area leaving Elijah, Hayley and Marcel smirking at each other over his reaction to their news.

Rebekah’s car pulled up just in front of the graffiti-ed Welcome to Helton signed which was graffiti-ed to say Welcome to Hell town as Rebekah and Bonnie got out of the car and walked over to the sign so that the two of them were standing right next to it.

“Did somebody really have to make this place any spookier by calling it Hell town?” Bonnie asked while looking at the sign.

“Trust me the sign is not as bad as what’s after it and I’m not talking about hooded robes pulling out hearts I’m talking about the entire town seeming haunted. Murders I can take however ghosts of people already dead and usually by me or my blood well they tend to be a little bit trickier.” Rebekah replied to her.

“Why have we stopped here?” Bonnie questioned.

“We’re walking the rest of the way just in case things get messy I don’t want my car coming to any harm.” Rebekah answered her as the two began walking in wards to the ghost town.

“Suddenly I’m finding this place creepier than the person living here.” Bonnie revealed. “And I can’t help but wonder why a powerful witch would reside here instead of somewhere more extravagant or at least less dead although I suppose they do specialize in death magic.”

“Ghost towns make good prisons or at least that’s what Nathaniel would like me to believe is the only reason I can tell this place means something to him I just haven’t figured out what yet and honestly that’s the last question on my mind needing answered by him.” Rebekah admitted to Bonnie.

“You mean like how he went from human to Malus almighty in a thousand years or how he learned about his magic if so far it’s only him, his father and Henrik that appear to have this ancient magic knowing he must’ve taught Henrik and his father was too busy trying to kill him to play teacher.” Bonnie went on to say as they continued their walking inwards to Helton.

“Exactly well that and the added power hungry consuming magic thing.” Rebekah answered. “Don’t get me wrong he seems like more of a bastard than he was a thousand years ago, but I can still see Nathaniel in there or at least I’ve fooled myself into seeing him.”

“You want to trust him, don’t you?” Bonnie asked her as they walked up to the abandoned town center of Helton.

“Of course, I do he was my first friend, Niklaus’ first love although he thought we didn’t know, and he was like family.” Rebekah said with a sigh of sadness. “Makes sense as to why he wants to kill us now.”

“I don’t think he does I mean he removed The Hollow from you and your siblings and only wanted you to free your brother in return.” Bonnie said to her as the two stopped outside the boarded-up Helton Hotel. “As wicked as Malus is meant to be so far, he seems only to be of help to you even though you drained him of his blood. I don’t think he’s fully giving into this magic like his father and Henrik has and that’s the real reason he needs our help because he’s not powerful enough to take down his father alone and he needs help saving Henrik.”

“What you genuinely believe that unlike all Malus witches Nathaniel has somehow fought the darkness within this magic for over a thousand years?” Rebekah asked in shock. “That’s impossible.”

“Is it? We don’t know much about Malus most of it is whispers of whispers and to be honest with you I’m putting money on Nathaniel not being too much of an expert either.” Bonnie replied.

“His father would be though, and it just so happens he’s being held right here.” Rebekah said with a scheming smile. “As long as we’re smart about it, we can finally get the answers that Elijah and Nathaniel have been keeping from us.”

“Or we release the nastier version of Nathaniel into the world and get nothing but lies.” Bonnie warned her.

“Don’t you want to know more about this magic? We are powerful women you lead an entire city of witches and I reunited my family and yet we’re kept in the dark so to speak by men.” Rebekah stated. “Let’s get the answers from the father then we’ll have more sway when we speak to the son.”

“Okay I’m in but if anything goes wrong, we get the hell out of hell town.” Bonnie told her.

“You’ve been dying to say that haven’t you?” Rebekah laughed.

“Perhaps just a little.” Bonnie responded with a smile.

Hope found herself walking down the busy streets of the French Quarter before taking a turn down an alleyway only to be left surprised to see Nathaniel stood in the alleyway instantly recognizing him as somebody with immense power realizing he must be the powerful witch her family had been talking about.

“So, I don’t see any family resemblance so I’m going to guess that you are my father’s ex Nathaniel and not my uncle Henrik.” Hope said to him.

“Ex?” Nathaniel replied with a smirk. “I suppose that is the correct term I must say you truly are remarkable Hope Mikaelson defying the impossible and not being one but three of the supernatural a true hybrid.”

“Less of the flattery please why don’t you get straight to the reason to why your hanging out in alleyways looking for a fifteen-year-old.” Hope snapped at him.

“I would go to Bonnie but I’m afraid one favour is more than enough to owe the Bennett’s and as for your aunt Freya she is rather busy with the whole pregnancy and everything and besides she doesn’t strike me as anywhere near as powerful as you Hope.” Nathaniel explained. “I’ve been working with your uncle Elijah with a plan to rid myself of my retched father and save Henrik’s soul however what he doesn’t know is that’s plan B you my precious little fireball are plan A.”

“And what makes you think I would be foolish enough to trust you?” Hope asked him.

“Because all you’ve ever wanted is your family united and I’m trying my everything to help Henrik be a part of that family.” Nathaniel admitted. “All I’ve ever wanted was for Henrik to live a life different to my own to be free from the curse that comes with this magic.”

“My aunt Rebekah went to go find you she’s going to be super pissed to find out you’re in New Orleans.” Hope responded trying to change the subject only to see Nathaniel’s facial expressions change to that of pure fear.

“Rebekah went looking for me did she not think to run it past Elijah?” Nathaniel asked the youngest Mikaelson as he began to fear the worst.

“Yeah my aunt Bex doesn’t really ask for permission for anything from anyone.” Hope said while noticing Nathaniel’s fear. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m afraid your aunt maybe in great danger I had hoped to avoid him at all costs but I’m going to need you to take me to your father.” Nathaniel declared. “If we don’t move quickly Rebekah’s life could be at risk.”

Rebekah and Bonnie were walking through the woods of Helton until they saw Nathaniel’s mysterious followers in hooded robes standing in the same circle as Rebekah had seen them before while a lifeless Augustus remained tied to the tree with his heart on the ground next to him.

“So, what exactly is the plan here?” Bonnie asked Rebekah as the two of them hid behind a tree to not be seen.

“I was thinking I fight off the undead while you place his heart back in his chest and then do some barrier spell of your own so he can’t escape.” Rebekah explained quietly. “Afterwards we hope Nathaniel’s ghost squad isn’t too pissed and conduct their own barrier spell as we leave with all the information we’ve been looking for.”

“That’s not a plan that’s a rash violent mission which is bound to get us both killed.” Bonnie warned her.

“Like we haven’t both done much worse before.” Rebekah replied with a smile before vamp speeding towards the worshiper's direction.

Rebekah only got halfway there before one of the robed worshipers raised their hand in her direction stopping her mid flight and forcing her to freeze on that spot unable to move as the worshiper's begin chanting loudly in the unrecognizable language which was becoming far too regular for Rebekah’s liking.

Bonnie moved from behind the tree chanting in Croatian while holding her hands out only to begin feeling immense pain as her veins turned black showing through her skin and her nose began to bleed furiously.

“If you’re going to do something now would be the time.” Bonnie shouted in between chants.

“I guess this means we go to Plan B.” Rebekah mumbled to herself as she fought past the worshiper's magic with the help of Bonnie’s spell and vamp sped over towards Augustus picking his heart up from the floor in the process and launching it into his chest.

“No!” The worshiper's screamed in unison before their bodies began catching on fire the flames burning them harshly and rapidly as the hoods fell revealing them as zombies with rotten skin and bones clearly once human but not recognizable to anyone anymore.

The worshiper's let out a series of screams as Bonnie fell to the ground causing Rebekah to fear for her frenemies’ life only to be further shocked to see the worshiper's explode in unison leaving nothing but body parts and rotted skin behind.

Rebekah vamp sped over to Bonnie kneeling over and picking her up in her arms before shaking the witch’s body hoping to wake her.

“Bonnie Bennett you don’t get to die not here!” Rebekah snapped before she noticed Bonnie beginning to open her eyes causing Rebekah to smile. “You’re quite the remarkable witch how did you manage to kill them all?”

“I didn’t do that.” Bonnie revealed making Rebekah look around the woods only to realize Augustus was no longer anywhere to be seen.

#klaus mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #hope mikaelson #marcel gerard #hayley marshall #bonnie bennett #theoriginals #the originals fanfiction #vampire diaries #vampire diaries fanfiction #legacies #legacies fanfiction #part one of two #bayou #compound #neworleans #alternateseason

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honestgrins · 5 years

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Fair Warning || Klaroline

@313etanonymys: Can you do like a drabble where Katherine warns Caroline about Klaus or something?😍😘💖🔥 (TVD S2 AU) Thanks for the prompt, I hope you like it!

Katherine crashed against the invisible barrier, seething as Caroline waved cheerily through the doorway. Her tears of terror were instead replaced by a beatific smile at having successfully trapped the she-devil. “What did you do?”

“Nothing you don’t deserve,” Caroline answered. Her eyes tracked over the doppelganger’s shoulder to where Stefan was hiding. “Have fun!” She turned to leave and rejoin the party, but it seemed Katherine wasn’t done with her yet.

“Everything I do, I do for a reason!” she shouted. “You’ll be sorry when he comes, and I’ll be there to make sure of it.”

Forcing herself not to look back, Caroline couldn’t help the frozen feeling of dread crawling down her spine. When who comes?

“His name is Klaus,” Elena explained as they hiked through the woods, each step closer to the tomb worrying Caroline just a bit more. “He’s supposed to be the oldest, most dangerous vampire, and I need more information that Damon and Stefan refuse to help me get."

The unease grew to a seize of panic that stopped Caroline in her tracks, the sudden motion happening too quickly with her still-new vampire abilities. "If Stefan doesn't want you talking to Katherine, he has to have a good reason. Maybe we should leave, convince him to come back with us."

Rolling her eyes, Elena didn’t even pause, her pace even along the familiar paths of the woods. “It’s not like she can hurt me, she’s sealed in the tomb. And we can’t get her out, so there’s no chance she can manipulate us to break the spell.”

Caroline wasn’t proud of the moment it took her brain to process, only for her thoughts to immediately spill from her mouth. “Is that the only reason you asked me and not Bonnie?”

"No," Elena answered as patiently as she could. "Stefan would also be pissed if I came her without vampire supervision in case something goes wrong. Do you want to leave?"

"Not without you." Mustering her courage and anxiety, she followed Elena down through the church ruins. Her enhanced senses for both smell and magic left her recoiling, but she think she managed to hide it. Mostly. By the time she'd rolled the giant rock door away from the mouth of the tomb, she felt almost confident with the energizing feat of strength.

But then the dark cavern seemed to grow darker the longer they waited for Katherine to appear. Elena reached into her tote, and Caroline's fangs nearly dropped at the blood bad she pulled out. It took more strength than she realized to stop herself from launching toward where Elena tossed it past the safe line, her eyes greedily staring at the jostling liquid inside when it landed. Only the raspy breath coming from the starving vampire it was intended for allowed her to finally look away.

Dragging her feet as she leaned heavily against the stone wall to help her walk, Katherine looked...rough. Still, her expression was haughty as ever when she saw Elena sitting just outside her prison. “What are you doing here?”

“I want answers about Klaus, and I think you have them. No funny business, I swear.”

Katherine raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound very fun for me, you see, so I’ll pass.”

She couldn’t help it, her fangs dropped as anger overwhelmed her sensitive emotional balance. If she could find a therapist that specialized in the supernatural needs of the recently dead, Caroline would be all over it. Faced with the woman who killed her and the impertinent personality of such bitch, her already frayed nerves were obviously on a razor’s edge. “Just take the peace offering and answer her questions, it’s not that hard.”

“Or what?” Canting her head to the side, Katherine turned that teasing gaze on her. “You’ll nag at me from the other side of that pesky line? Unless you’d like to join me. We could have fun, Caroline,” she teased, voice full of promise - whether for violence or more pleasurable experiences, Caroline didn’t know. “And trust me, when Klaus comes, you’ll wish you were in this damn tomb. You all actually did me a favor with this set-up, I’ll be the safest girl in town.”

Elena leaned forward eagerly. “So you do know Klaus.”

For a split second, smoothed faster than any human sight could register, Katherine Pierce actually looked scared. But she made her way to the ground as gracefully as possible and snatched the blood bag up to drink. After a longing pull of the straw, her eyes flicked up to her mirror image. “Yep. It’s cute you all think I’m the big bad, when you have no clue what evil is really out there. I do what I need to survive. Klaus...he doesn’t stop at survival. Try to stop him, and he’ll make your life a living hell.”

“Is that what he did to you?” Caroline asked, surprised at the wistful warning and that it was coming from her of all people. It bled of bad memories and worse nightmares; a bad feeling crawled up her spine at what might have haunted her murderer’s centuries.

Licking her lips, Katherine squinted up at her, as though measuring her up. She smirked when Caroline’s back straightened in reaction. “He wishes. But now he's got bigger fish to fry than little, old me."

"You know what he wants."

Her eyes rolled before they landed on Elena, who patiently watched for any reaction to the accusation. Katherine, however, didn't seem all that willing to rise to the bait. Shrugging, she jutted her chin toward the tote bag Elena still held in her lap. They stared at each other for an uncomfortable moment, the tension making Caroline shift in her stance, though she didn't dare interrupt.

Finally, Elena frowned and pulled out another blood bag. She lifted it in warning. "What does he want?"

"You," Katherine sighed. "He needs a doppelgänger, a human one. I ruined his plans five hundred years ago by transitioning, something he has yet to forget or forgive."

Caroline shook her head. "Then why not come get her? Mystic Falls isn't exactly a fortress."

Tongue clucking, Katherine's expression turned almost pitying. "You're not asking the right question. When the time is right, I'm sure Klaus will do just that. Violently, with a lot of collateral damage." Her eyes flicked down the line of Caroline's body. "By the way, how is Tyler? I've been so worried about him since he triggered his curse," she whispered, like it was dirty word.

A sudden fear clenched around Caroline's throat. "Leave him out of this."

"Too late." The sing-song tone grated on her nerves, and she really didn't like the way Katherine's teasing gaze stayed trained on her. "Tell me, baby vamp, what do you know about the curse of the sun and moon?”

They spent a good hour with Katherine, gleaning every detail and rumor they could about her dealings with Klaus and what trouble he might bring for them. But even days later, all Caroline had in her mind were more questions and a deep, deep fear she couldn't shake. Between that and trying to keep up the human act for her mom and Matt, she was a jittery mess scrambling for control.

And then Tyler went missing.

A part of her hated to even notice, let alone worry for him after the kidnapping and torture he enabled at the hands of his uncle’s pack. Carol had approached her directly at a fundraiser, though, concerned that he’d stopped answering texts. “He knows better than this, to miss so much school,” she said, near frantic despite the breezy smile she held for the other guests. “To go camping, of all things, with some people he just met. I know you’ve had a falling out, but if you hear from him...”

Caroline had brushed it off as wolf business; the closest thing to camping she’d ever seen Tyler do is pass out at the watering hole after a particularly impressive keg stand, so it stood to reason that it was a convenient cover for running around the woods in nothing but fur. Sending a text was the most she was willing to do. As the days dragged on with no answer, especially given the groveling he’d tried to do before he left, she reluctantly felt her own concern growing.

Things didn’t click in her mind until Damon made an off-hand remark about one less wolf to beat to the curse. “Not that Lockwood is likely to solve any puzzle first. Katherine had it right, wolves make better brawn than brains, best used for cannon fodder."

"They're still people," Stefan had sighed.

But Damon just shrugged. "Collateral damage, whatever."

Collateral damage.

Horror seeping into her awareness, Caroline almost charged her way back to the tomb. The rock barrier rolled away with a crash, her control frayed by sudden realization. "You've been collecting us," she accused, her voice echoing into the darkness. "You're working for Klaus, to help him break this curse."

Silence held for a long moment, then a slow clap rang out. Katherine's croak was strained, but her amusement clear. "Give the girl a prize." Clawing her way toward the entrance, the older vampire's eyes were oddly intent for the physical weakness she was showing. Her skin had become gray and flaky in the week since their visit, the slender frame Caroline so envied in her doppelgänger wasted away to look almost skeletal. "But I'm no one's lackey, cupcake, and definitely not Klaus's."

Caroline frowned as she crept to the edge of the doorway, fighting down the impulse to take a step away. Even without blood and spelled into captivity, Katherine would always prick her confidence for fear of dying again; worse, she was pretty sure the scheme already put into place was going to get her killed anyway. "Because of what he did to your family," she guessed, though the story had haunted her dreams. Finding nothing but blood and devastation where her home stood left her waking in a cold sweat, a sudden fear only soothed by the sound of her mother's undisturbed snores in the next room.

"Klaus is a monster," Katherine answered in a dry whisper. "Whatever you think of me, I can promise he'll deliver tenfold. I've seen it.”

"Then why do his evil bidding?"

Her withered tongue traced her cracked lips, eyes closed in apparent exhaustion. "I've been on the run for five hundred years, and not once have I been able to outsmart him other than to keep running. Mystic Falls has a human doppelgänger, a moonstone, a werewolf, a very powerful Bennett witch, and a vampire." Her eyes flicked open, squarely landed on Caroline. "If that's not a ticket for freedom, then I don't know what is."

Sneering with more venom than she knew she could muster, Caroline curled her hands into fists to keep from tearing the bitch limb from limb. "I should make Bonnie let you out so you can be the goddamned sacrifice."

"Funny, love," a new voice said, its lilting accent confusing and endearing all at once. "I was thinking the same thing."

About to turn, Caroline froze as Katherine scrambled further into the tomb, like she was trying to disappear entirely. The natural curiosity she felt at the stranger was soon overpowered by an utter awareness of the power he was exuding, made worse considering she hadn't noticed him sneak into the cavern. Slowly, she moved to face him and the threat he posed, careful to keep her back to the solid rock wall. Shorter than she’d imagined and sporting a deceptively pleasant smile, she found a very attractive man staring at her with obvious calculation. "Klaus."

His smile spread, deepening the dimples she hadn’t noticed yet. Added to the artful curls and pink lips, he might have stepped right out of an angelic painting rather than the hell he supposedly ruled as the Original Vampire. But she’d seen a pretty face and gotten a monster before, and Caroline wasn’t fooled. “I’d be impressed for one so young to recognize me, but I think Katerina’s been telling tales. Surely a smart girl like you knows better than to believe a word out of her mouth.”

Wetting her suddenly dry lips, Caroline did know better than to let her eyes slide away from Klaus with his focus solely on her. “I’m something of a gossip. Information is valuable, and even bad sources tell the truth sometimes.”

Eyebrows lifting, Klaus took a step forward. Once more, she had to fight the instinct to move back. Her fear was more rational considering he wasn’t magically locked behind a barrier, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of showing the terror he inspired. “I happen to appreciate information, sweetheart. Perhaps you’d be willing to share?”

She forced a smile of her own. “Sorry. Mom said to never talk to strangers or crazy old vampires intent on killing my friends.”

“Ah, but the good sheriff isn’t a fan of any vampires,” Klaus said, eyes narrowed on her reaction. “Is she, Caroline?”

Swallowing the sudden lump in her throat, her teeth clenched to keep from trembling.

Klaus smirked as he closed the gap between them, and he raised a knuckle just under her chin. “Now, Katerina would say otherwise, but I believe family is important. I wouldn’t dream of harming your mother, and I’m prepared to make assurances to that fact.”

Slaughtered, all of them. The entire village only because they knew me. Katherine’s story rang in her ears, and the hands that wrought that destruction within inches of her throat. And he was promising to keep her mom safe. “Why?”

His head canted to the side, like he was assessing her. “Because I think you might be the key to solving my little curse, dear Caroline, and I’d like your help.”

“And if I say no?”

Lips curling up, Klaus let a thumb coast along the edge of her jaw. “I have many means of persuasion, love. I’d hate to have to choose harsher methods.”

Caroline breathed in deeply, her brain working in overdrive to think through her options. Almost tempted to dive into the tomb, she knew it would leave her mom and her friends to the harsh methods he promised. Worse, she would be helpless to do anything but watch Katherine desiccate, knowing the same would happen to her.

Had Klaus truly wanted to kill her, she would have been dead already. She didn’t particularly want to help him break the stupid curse, mostly because it ended up with her also dead. Even if she managed to earn enough goodwill to save herself, Elena and Tyler were still at risk.

But if she refused, they’d all probably die anyway.

“What do you want me to do?”

Klaus just tapped her chin, immediately stepping back, though she didn’t relax her posture. “I want that information you’re so keen on collecting, love. The Salvatores, the Bennett witch, your precious Elena. I like knowing the pieces on the board.”

She scoffed. “This isn’t a game.”

“Sure it is,” he laughed, looking at her like she was a cute animal chasing its own shadow. “Think it over, as to whether you’d like to play on the winning side.” He nudged his head back toward the gaping hole in the stone. “You’ve already seen what it means to lose.”

Biting her lip, Caroline watched him walk to the edge of the cavern where he’d make his exit. “I don’t want anyone to die.”

He had the audacity to wink at her. “Then it sounds like you ought to win, Caroline.” Easily jumping up to the church ruins, Klaus was gone, leaving her to consider his offer - as vague as it was.

"You just landed on the wrong list, blondie," Katherine croaked, leaning out of the darkness just enough for Caroline to make out the shape of her. "Palling around with Klaus is only going to get you killed."

"It's your fault he's here at all," she hissed back, nerves frayed to the point of exhaustion.

A huff of laughter, then a ragged cough. "To be fair, he did seem to like you. Didn't even draw any blood. Must be getting mature in his old age," she whispered teasingly. "He is pretty great in bed, if that helps. You'll still end up dead, but at least you'll have some fun first."

She wanted to scream. "Shut up."

"Whatever," Katherine sighed as Caroline stomped away. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Hopping out of the cavern without nearly the grace Klaus had managed, Caroline tried to focus on anything other than the idea of Klaus's bed and what it'd mean to pick him.

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #to rely on the kindness of strangers #313etanonymys #thanks for the prompt!#i hope you like it!#not so prompt prompt #my bad #I'm sorry it took so long #and that I messed it up the first time

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katehuntington · 4 years

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Title: Changes - part six Word count: ±5000 words Summary “Changes”: Huntress Zoë Sullivan (OFC) crosses paths and swords with the Winchesters, when the brothers stumble on a case she’s already working. When complications arise, they are forced to work together. Summary part six: Zoë remains one step in front Dean, which annoys the cocky hunter. As new details about the case unravel, both Winchester brothers find out that the independent woman is not planning to share. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures. Demon possession, supernatural creatures/entities. Smut, swearing, alcohol use/addiction. Kidnapping, mentions of torture and murder, illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Author’s note: I couldn’t be more excited to share Supernatural: The Sullivan Series with you. There are quite a few people I want to thank: @coffee-obsessed-writer, @soupornatural & @mrswhozeewhatsis, who edited the early drafts, and my girls @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish & @winchest09 who are deciphering the recent version. Everyone who encouraged me to go for it, you are awesome!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist 01x01 “Changes” Masterlist

Dean squints when he steps into the light. A clear blue stretches out across the sky, the bright color gradually turning paler as it closes in on the horizon. He’s outside in the parking lot crammed with cars; the desk clerk wasn’t lying when he said he was fully booked. The place doesn’t have a sinister feel to it anymore like it did last night, allowing the hunter to let his guard down on this caffeine-deprived morning. The older Winchester brother needs a fix and he needs it badly. Sam drank all the instant coffee and he refuses to drink that shit from the machine in the lobby.

He expected it to be chilly outside, but the sun feels pleasantly warm. Sam woke him up, turning up the volume of the radio completely during the drum solo of a Guns ‘N Roses song. Not because his little brother likes that particular music, but he does like to watch Dean bolt upward in bed. Payback, because the older Winchester can’t deny that he pulled a similar prank on his brother more than once. Honestly, he’s glad Sammy is starting to mess with him again. It’s been a while since they acted like siblings. The joke was a good wake up call, too, he has to admit, but he still feels hungover: wrecked, tired and in desperate need of a cup of coffee, or several.

Traffic rushes by, most of the cars and trucks entering the city of Rochester. It’s a big town, big enough for people to disappear in without others noticing. For a moment, he thinks of those the shapeshifter already took. Sam found a string of at least three disappearances and that conclusion was drawn from the information he had access to offline while Dean was driving up north. These people could be anywhere. Dead? Probably. Going to die if they don’t find that bastard’s hideout fast? Definitely. But before he can work, he needs food, too. Dunkin’ Donuts, now that would be a treasure in this town.

When he asked Sam where Zoë was, all he got was “out”, followed by, “she’s already getting us lunch” when Dean grabbed his wallet and intended to leave. He went outside anyway, in need of some fresh air. His shoulder is throbbing, shooting daggers through his arm whenever he moves it, but as long as he keeps it still, it’s not too bad. In the bathroom earlier, he did peel the gauze back slightly to check the injury, and he has to admit that he was impressed. He might not be able to stand Zoë, but she did an awesome job removing that bullet and sewing him back together. Plus, the painkillers she offered are a God’s gift.

Slowly, he strolls towards his car. The pitch-black Chevrolet Impala blinks in the sun, chrome glistening. Dean smiles; what a sight for sore eyes. He’s honored to own the car Dad gave him a while back. Not just because she’s such a joy to drive, but because it was Dad’s first car. He kind of owes it to his old man to take good care of her. It’s what he expects him to do; to look after the family. “Hey, Baby,” he greets his Chevy, letting his fingertips glide over the trunk. “Since when have we reached the phase that you call me ‘baby’?”

Dean looks over the top of the Impala and finds Zoë’s Harley parked on the other side, but he can’t spot the owner. When he moves around his car he finds her, laying on her back underneath her bike. “Who says I was talking to you?” Dean returns, leaning against the hood. She crawls from under the Road King and judgmentally observes him for a few seconds, then she grabs a socket wrench and slips back under. “Right, men talk to their cars. I forgot they do that,” she nags.

Dean grins and decides not to respond; it’s still early and he’s not sharp yet. The rhythmical sound of the bolt being turned sounds like music to his ears and he has the sudden urge to pull his tools out of the trunk and get some work done himself. But Baby is fine, she doesn’t need any TLC right now. “What’s wrong with your bike?” Dean asks curiously. “I was in a bit of a hurry last night, probably hit a speed bump. It’s just the gasket, nothing serious,” she explains, keeping her eyes on the exhaust. “And what’s wrong with you?” he rephrases his question. “Excuse me?” Caught off guard, she pauses, but doesn’t make an effort to get out from under her Harley. Dean doesn’t bother to repeat himself. “You heard me.” “There’s nothing wrong with me, Shortbus.” Zoë continues tightening the bolt, faster than she did a moment ago, annoyed about the fact that she doesn’t know where he’s going with this. “Then what is that bandage doing there?” Dean asks smartly. Startled, Zoë sits up and hits her head hard against the chrome outlet of her bike, causing a loud bang. Cursing like a sailor she lands back on the ground. “Ow! Fucking hell!”

She didn’t realize her shirt crawled up. Dean smirks at the string of strong language, but hides his smile when she surfaces from under the bike. Irritated, she pulls down her buttoned shirt to hide the gauze through which a little bit of blood has formed a perfect circle in the shape of a bullet wound. She uncomfortably pretends like neither he nor she saw it and disappears under her Harley again. Dean, of course, isn’t going to let it go. “Did Sam shoot you?” “What?” “Last night he fired two bullets. Did he shoot you?” Dean repeats. The huntress scoffs. “Ha! Your little bro isn’t that fast on the draw.” “I’m not kidding,” he states seriously. “Someone apparently was.”

She gives the bolt one last turn and appears from under the bike, this time without hitting her head. Annoyed, she looks up at him, lightning in her brown eyes. Zoë is nowhere near admitting to him what went down. Shit. How the hell is she gonna talk herself out of this one? “Don’t worry, Sam won’t get the credit,” Zoë comments snarky, as she grabs a dirty cloth and cleans her hands, looking away. “If he didn’t do it, who did?” he interrogates, clearly not accepting a smart answer. “What does it matter? It’s nothing serious,” she mutters, getting up. “It is. You got shot, damn it,” Dean argues. “So did you. How’s that shoulder by the way?” Zoë quickly changes the subject, but Dean is smart enough not to take the bait. “No - no - no,” He shakes his head and grins. “I’m not gonna fall for that one. My shoulder’s fine, thanks, but you’re still answering that question.” She sighs; seems like there’s no way out of this. “It’s not that bad, it was a clean shot,” she assures, still avoiding Dean’s question. “Did you get the bullet out?” Dean asks, almost parental. Zoë narrows her eyes at him. “Of course I got the bullet out.” “Who shot you?” he asks again, slowly this time.

Zoë doesn’t answer and saunters up to him, after which she leans against Dean’s Chevy as well. Her hair, still damp from the shower she took earlier and seems black. Despite the crappy night, her natural tan gives her a healthy appearance. The only thing that gives away that she’s tired, are the slightly visible dark circles under her eyes. When she looks aside, she meets Dean’s gaze, who’s waiting for some kind of response. With a sigh, she gives him an answer. “The shapeshifter.” Dean’s eyebrows shoot up, needing a moment to analyze her words. He doesn’t know which question he needs to ask first. “You ran into him?”

Zoë averts her gaze, debating her conscience. Should she tell him? She knows he will keep digging until he does, but she could lie, obviously. Oh, what the hell. She might as well give him the whole story. “Yeah, yesterday evening. I had an appointment with a possible next victim, this guy called Cliffer. Turned out the son of a bitch already shed into him,” she explains. “Wait… Cliffer? As in Terry Cliffer?” Dean double checks. She suspiciously tilts her head while looking at him. “Yeah.” “Shit.” He rubs his face, realizing what is going on. “You’re Sharon Evans.” “What? How the hell do you know my alias?” Zoë asks with a tone. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think Sam technically did get you shot,” he starts off hesitating. “Beg pardon?!” she cries out, turning towards him, completely stunned. “We rang Cliffer around five yesterday afternoon, to meet up with him,” he admits. She stares at him as the missing links connect. She places a hand on her hips, switching her weight to one leg, radiating her attitude. “Let me guess! FBI?” “Yeah. He asked if Sam was Sharon Evans’s partner. We didn’t realize we were on somebody else’s case,” he admits. “You son of a…”

She swallows down another waterfall of curse words and turns around furiously. That’s why the bastard changed! She didn’t give herself away, those dumbass Winchesters did! It’s a bit of a coincidence that two federal agents call, being on the same case without knowing it. The shapeshifter was tailing Cliffer already, she was suspecting that, but when it learned about the appointments, it changed shape quicker than planned. The fucker knew there was at least one hunter in town. It was on to her! “Fuck!” she exclaims.

Furious, she turns away and walks back and forth between Dean’s car and her bike. Dean just follows her with his eyes, not saying a word. He knows that anything coming out of his mouth will only make her angrier, even if it’s just a smart attempt to lighten the mood. “What time’s that appointment?” “Five-thirty.” “Where?” “A bar. I’m not sure where.” “You don’t know?!” she snaps. “Sam knows. He made the appointment, not me,” he returns. Zoë rolls her eyes and forks her fingers through her hair, staring at the passing traffic for a moment.

“I don’t see why this is a bad thing,” Dean starts off, casually, but she doesn’t take it well. “You don’t see why this is a bad thing? It probably means the real Terry Cliffer is dead!” she hisses, lowering her voice when guests walk out the Motel Six. “You don’t know that. There could be two of them walkin’ around,” Dean argues. “The shifter doesn’t know that we’ve met. That gives us the advantage. It doesn’t know we know.” “What was your major plan then, Hannibal Smith?” she taunts. “I don’t have a plan. Like I said–-” “- Sam’s the geek, I know. God, seems like your folks saved the brains for the second child,” she huffs, turning on her heels as she crosses her arms firmly in front of her chest.

Dean glares at her, offended. Not that she notices, with her back already turned to him. She picks up the tools she used for the repair and puts them back in a small case, resting on the saddle. While she cleans up, Zoë tries to figure out some kind of plan, but if she’s not even sure who Sam actually made that appointment with, then how can she work out a strategy? Big chance that she’ll meet the shifter, but it could very well be Terry, so she can't actually go in guns blazing. Cliffer hasn’t been reported missing yet, even though he has a wife and kids. If he did disappear, they would have called the authorities and Zoë would know about that. Nothing is certain, which makes this job so much more impossible to work.

She stops what she’s doing and stares at the asphalt. Gears are turning in her head as she goes over every scenario. Dean observes her for a moment. “Did you eat?” he asks out of nowhere. “Or have coffee?” “No,” she answers confused; what does that have to do with anything? “Then how the hell can you think properly?” he wonders. She shrugs, only just now realizing that her stomach sounds like there’s a war going on inside. She could certainly go with a good latte macchiato to jumpstart her brain, too. It’s no fun to admit, but Dean has a point. “You’re right. I’m off.” Zoë throws her right leg over her Harley and lands in the black leather saddle. She picks up her old biker jacket from the handlebar and puts it on. “Can I come?” The way Dean asks is like a little boy would, innocent and hopeful, adding ‘pretty please’ with his green eyes without actually pronouncing the words. She chuckles and shakes her head. “Sorry, Dean. I fly solo.” Her engine starts with a satisfying purr instead of the louder sputter it produced earlier. Content, she smiles and puts on her helmet. Dean, on the other hand, looks at her just like that same little boy, disappointed, even though he tries to hide it. Without another word, she turns the throttle and exits the parking lot. Just before she turns on the parallel road to the 52 highway, she glances over her shoulder with a smirk from ear to ear. “Thanks for lunch!” she shouts, overruling the sound of her Harley.

Puzzled Dean watches her drive off. Lunch? What lunch? He feels his pockets, knowing he’s missing something. When the identical roar seems to come closer again; he looks up. The Harley Davidson isn’t exactly coming back, but drives up the ramp going to the city. She heaves her hand victoriously, holding his wallet as she drives by. Dean’s eyes follow her, his jaw dropping to the ground. That dirty little thief! She just stole my wallet! He gapes at Zoë, as she and her Harley merge into busy traffic in the distance. How could she…? When did this…? Stunned, he scoffs. Un-fucking-believable. He, one of the best goddamn hunters in the world, just got pick-pocketed. While shaking his head he turns around and walks back to the lobby, muddling softly. “Son of a bitch.”

An hour later, Zoë slips her key in the lock of room 82 and walks in like she owns the world, a straw coming from her iced latte on-the-go firmly between her lips. “Finally!” Dean complains. He made himself comfortable on the bed with his shoes on the bedspread again, sitting up against the back wall reading a magazine Zoë doesn’t want to know the content of. Sam is behind his laptop, not surprisingly. The older of the brothers smiles happily when he sees the Taco Bell symbol on the paper bags she��s holding. It might have taken her a while to get back, but at least she brought the good stuff.

Without responding to his comment, she throws him back his wallet without Sam noticing, who is occupied by research. Dean catches it with his left hand and answers her victorious grin with an unintelligible mutter. She sets down a small tray with two more coffee containers. “I didn’t know how you guys like your coffee, so I brought you both an Americano,” she says. “Francis over there prefers a half-caf double vanilla latte,” Dean comments, wiggling his eyebrows at his brother, who on his turn glares at him and takes his coffee. As if Dean hasn’t eaten for days, he attacks the burrito, quickly tearing away the paper wrap and taking a big first bite. Zoë isn’t surprised by his manners. Sam, however, can’t help but stare at his brother for a moment and clears his throat, disapprovingly. His sibling doesn’t seem to be bothered at all and lets out a satisfied ‘mmm’. “This is good,” he comments with his mouth full. “Thanks, Zo,” Sam says, after which he also takes a bite of his lunch. “Don’t thank me,” she nods at Dean. “He’s the one who paid.” The younger brother frowns and looks over at Dean for an explanation. Dean and paying the bill? That’s new. He doesn’t need to observe him for long before Dean stops chewing and his facial expression goes blank. Uneasy, he looks away and swallows his bite. Zoë watches him, too, smirking like a cheshire cat. “She - uh,” he pauses, studying his taco for a moment. “She kinda… stole my wallet.” Sam almost chokes on his food and laughs out loud, the action earning a lethal glare. He then continues to look the huntress up and down. “That explains the new jacket.” Dazed, Dean looks up. New jacket? What new jacket? Then he spots the black leather Harley Davidson bomber jacket on Zoë, brand new by the looks of it. “You didn’t,” he reacts, shocked. She grins at him, clearly enjoying herself. “Oh, I did.” He grinds his teeth, trying to keep calm. “How much was it?” “Not sure, actually. I didn’t bother to check the price tag when I slipped your card,” she returns, utterly satisfied. For a moment Dean just stares at her, his upper lip nervously twitching. What would that jacket be worth? 400, 500 bucks, maybe? “Oh, don’t be such a cheap jerk about it,” she comments, when she notices his expression, as if he has eaten something spicy yet disgusting. “You have at least a dozen more credit cards hidden in the trunk.” “How the hell would you know that?” Dean snarls at her.

As she takes a bite of her burrito, she looks up, digs deep down in her pocket and tosses him his car keys. While she casually continues with her lunch, Dean stares at the keys in his hand with his mouth agape, trying to figure out how the hell she got those as well. Sam has a hard time keeping a straight face, and who could blame him? There’s no finer entertainment than this: Dean is getting played. “You touched my fuckin’ car?” his brother hisses. “Obviously. I need to borrow this, by the way.” Zoë holds up a demon protection amulet. “Give that back, Zoë,” Sam demands, trying to be strict. “What else did you take?” “Some herbs, nothing expensive,” she admits, carelessly. “You fucking thief. What did you take, Sullivan?” It’s Dean who rises to his feet, holding his hand out to collect the stolen items. Reluctant, Zoë reveals a dried vine of Viburnum from her inner pocket. “Gardener over here -” Dean nods at Sam, “- went through a lot of trouble to get ahold of that dead plant you have there. I’d give it back if I were you.” “No. I need it,” she decides a matter of factly. Sam narrows his eyes at the huntress, trying to read her. Why would she need that herb? He stares at it, two dried out plants tied together with a double shoestring. It only works for one thing… “Not for yourself, I hope?” Sam asks, carefully. “A case I’m working on the side, actually. Can’t find the damn plants anywhere,” she clarifies. “Keep the damn twig, but I want the amulet back. Get your own supplies.” Dean ushers Zoë to hand the item over, which she does with a sigh. He snatching his coffee from the table and returns to the bed without thanking her. In fact, he’s not happy at all that she has been sniffing around in his car. The silence that follows is awkward, even for Zoë, and she decides to change the subject.

“I reckon you updated Sam while I was out?” Dean nods, taking a sip of caffeine. “In detail.” “Let me get this straight.” Sam, seated on one of the chairs by the table, leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “The shapeshifter knows you’re a hunter.” “It does, but it didn’t know that at the time of the meeting. It knew one of the callers was out to kill him, but for all it cared, I could have been an FBI agent. The fucker shot me anyway,” she elaborates, finishing her drink and tossing it in the trash. Dean crosses his arms in front of his chest. “What’s your point?” “Her point is that if we go to Beetles Bar, pretending to know nothing, it won’t take any risks. If the shifter shows instead of the real Terry Cliffer, it will try to kill us both,” Sam understands. “You guys are not going in,” Zoë makes clear right away, taking a mental note of the bar’s name that Sam just mentioned.

“So, what then? Lure him out and shoot the bastard?” Dean suggests. “Not until I’m sure it’s the shifter, not Terry,” Zoë replies, as she walks over to the fridge. Two confused faces follow her as she opens the door and looks inside. “You’re not making any sense at all,” Dean returns, puzzled, after which he apparently gives up on the conversation and props his feet up on the bed again. “You might actually have made an appointment with the real Cliffer guy, not with that chameleon. No one would be able to tell, unless you shine a flashlight in his face,” she explains, as she takes out three beers.

Sam looks back at Zoë, who beckons one of the bottles to him, but he rejects it. Dean takes both the beers without hesitation. “You’re serious? You haven’t even been up for two hours,“ Sam scolds at the older Winchester brother, astonished by the both of them. “It’s happy hour somewhere,” Zoë defends, puts the bottle against her mouth and takes a swig, earning a grin from Dean. “Want anything else, Sammy boy? Some juice, or milk perhaps?” she coos cheerily as if talking to a child. Dean snorts, almost choking on his beer, but when Sam shoots daggers at him, he quickly takes another sip.

“Don’t call me Sammy,” he warns the huntress, continuing their discussion on the case. “So, there is a possibility that we might actually have a meeting with Terry Cliffer–-” “Okay, stop there for a second. Let me make something very clear: there is no ‘we’.” Zoë leans on the table, her knuckles resting on the surface. Her body language is strictly business all of a sudden; apparently she’s not very happy about Sam and Dean joining in on the case, especially not without her permission. Dean eyes her as he sits up. “You could use our help, Zo.” “Help?” She scoffs. “Thanks to the big ‘help’ you’ve been, I couldn’t finish the case last night!” “That happened, sorry about that. But as long as we’re here, we can offer a hand. Besides, we have an appointment with Cliffer,” Sam argues. “I don’t care. This is my hunt. I’m going to that appointment myself,” she clears up. A quick glance at the clock tells her that it’s a little past three. She still wants to dig up more information on her guy. The boys better get going. “No, you’re not. That’s our appointment,” Dean bounces back. “Seriously? You really wanna fight me on this?” she returns snappily, pushing herself from the table and crossing her arms in front of her chest. “That appointment that you scheduled fucked up my entire case! I was here first and I’m gonna end it!” “Oh, come on. How old are you? Five? Haven’t learned how to share yet?” Dean chuckles with an attitude, adding fuel to the fire.

Before Zoë can counter him, Sam comes between the two hot-blooded hunters. “Knock it off, both of you. It will be easier to catch that shapeshifter with three hunters than with one, Zoë. Why don’t we go there together? You lay low and when we find the shapeshifter, we shoot it. We know he’ll probably be in the bar anyway, either as Terry Cliffer or someone else.” “No,” she decides without any consideration. “I’m gonna deal with this alone and I do not need your help.” “I can see that,” Dean comments, nodding at her abdomen, reminding her of the bullet wound that’s covered by her shirt. “Who’s fault is that again?” she snaps. “I’m gonna say it one more time: I fly solo. I don’t do teamwork, certainly not with you two. End of discussion.”

She takes one last sip of her beer and sets the bottle down on the table with a loud bang. “Who do you think you are, ordering us around like that with your ‘end of discussion’? Our dad?” Sam bites back, defensive for the first time today. She freezes at the comparison and turns her head. The boys can see the fury burning in her eyes, as if they just lit the fuse of a bomb that’s about to explode. His comment stirred something inside of her they should have left alone. “I am nothing like your father!” she hisses. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dean questions, offended. “Exactly what it sounds like, Winchester,” she counters with a tone. “What did he ever do to you? He exorcised that evil son of a bitch that was wearing you to the prom, for fuck’s sake.” Dean gets up and steps towards her, clearly not too happy about the way she’s talking about his father.

Trying to not lose her cool, Zoë chuckles sarcastically, looks away, and places her hands on her waist. “You owe him,” Dean pushes, halting before her. “I do not owe him a fucking thing,” she snarls fiercely, staring him down. Their eyes battle, waiting for the other to look away, but both Dean and Zoë are determined not to be the first. Her anger towards John Winchester radiates from her; the brothers can both feel it. They struck a nerve, that’s for sure. “I want you out,” Zoë declares without even blinking. “And I’m serious.”

Dean's jaw tenses as he grids his teeth. “Fine.” With a sigh, Sam gets up from the bed and grabs his duffel, Dean already on his way out. The younger brother doesn’t feel like leaving her alone on this case, but Zoë clearly isn’t going to change her mind anytime soon. “If you need us-–” “- I won’t,” she immediately intervenes. “If you do, we’re going south.” He leaves a card on the bed. “Don’t bother, Sam. The stubborn bitch won’t call us anyway,” Dean responds, holding the door.

She ignores his words, annoyed by the slightest sting that his bitter voice leaves. In a quick glance, Zoë sees two phone numbers written down on the card, but she doesn’t intend to pick it up. Sam looks over his shoulder, but he isn’t angry with her. His eyes ask her to please reconsider, but all she returns is a cold gaze. The door closes behind them and the brothers walk down the hallway. “Unbelievable,” Dean scoffs. “What a fucking waste of time.” Their footsteps echo through the hall as they pass the front desk. Sam nods at the younger guy who took over for the day when they exit Motel 6, and enters the parking lot. The sun is still shining and shimmers on the cars passing by on the 52 highway, tires rush over the blacktop. Dean halts on the driver’s side of his Impala.

“Where to?” he asks, opening the door to get in. “We’re staying in town,” Sam decides before he sits down in the passenger seat. “What? No! We have better things to do, Sam,” Dean argues, still mad at the huntress. “I know we do, but I have a bad feeling about this,” Sam admits. Dean sighs. “Here we go again with that feminine intuition shit.” Sam rolls his eyes at him, but doesn’t respond to his words. He can’t understand why, but somehow he has the urge to look out for Zoë, almost like it’s instinct. Unnecessary, of course; she has been fine by herself for four years. Why should today be any different? “Let’s just go. You said something about a possible case in Iowa yesterday? If she can handle this, why bother to stick around if we can hunt something else?” Dean reminds him. “One night. We book a motel, check on her, and if she nails it, we leave. She doesn’t even have to know we’re there,” Sam suggests. “I thought you were determined to find Dad?” Dean looks aside at his brother, waiting for a response. “I still am, but we have no lead, not even a single clue where he is,” Sam points out. “Hey, that’s what I’ve been telling you, but it didn’t stop you from looking. You were the one who was all, ‘I gotta find Dad, it’s the only thing I can think of,’ Dean bounces back, imitating his voice. “And now you’re ditching him for some chick?” “I’m not ditching him for some chick!” Sam denies. “Ah, come on. You like her and you know it,” Dean carries on. “I do not like her, Dean! Jess just died, damnit!” he exclaims.

Dean looks away and pulls at his bottom lip with his teeth. He knows he went too far, so he keeps quiet and turns the ignition. When he flips the key, the V8 motor under the hood growls, impatiently waiting for Dean to back up and hit the road. “You said it yourself: Dad doesn’t want to be found. I don’t see how it’s a bad thing to spend the night here, unless you have some kind of lead I don’t know about,” Sam suggests. “Fine, whatever. As long as that motel has a bed. I really need to get some sleep.”

He puts his car in reverse and looks in the rearview mirror as he guides her out of the parking spot. The shift of his body causes him to grimace, pain cutting through his shoulder. “Feeling alright?” Sam checks. “Yeah, just tired. I need more painkillers, that’s all,” he mutters. Sam takes out his phone and calls a booking agency he had listed in his contacts earlier. As the call goes through, he sighs. It’s going to be a difficult task to find a room with that poker event in town. He waits for someone to pick up on the other side, meanwhile wondering why Zoë got so worked up about their father. Dean has a point; John saved her from that demon, so how could she possibly despise him? Something must have occurred; maybe she crossed paths with him later on and John did something to upset her. She wouldn’t be the first to cross blades with him, after all.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page).

Read part seven here

The Sullivan Series tags: @a-gir1-has-n0-name @destielhoneybee @fookinghelljensensthighs @heartsaved @idksupernatural @laphirablack @magssteenkamp

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supersoldier-of-asgard · 5 years

Text

Nodus Tollens (10/10)

•The realisation that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense to you anymore•

Pairing : Bucky x HYDRA!reader (gender neutral) + Avengers

Summary : you’ve been practically raised by HYDRA and The Wintersoldier has been your idol, someone you looked up to. What happens when you’re send to kill him and get captured by the avengers? SLOWBURN

Warnings whole fic : language, detailed discription of fighting and blood, a whole load of torture, trauma and a lot of angst ( if you want me to add something then please message me!)

Warnings this part : detailed blood and torture, dead bodys description and revenge.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

masterlist

Somewhere between the clouds

“How long do we still have?”

“Like an hour at most,” Clint answered from his place in the control seat, flying the helicarrier through the darkning clouds of the sky.

“Alright. Once we’re there, remember to stick to the plan and go in and out as quickly as possible,” Steve ordered,” no heroic antics, no lone walkers and no sacrifices.”

Tony couldn’t help but roll his eyes,” says you.”

“Okay, don’t. We know this is probably a trap, so please don’t fight,” Natasha chimed in,” Barnes needs us.”

The place of realisation

Dawn slowly crept into the sky, the rain that had clattered with the rapid beating of your heart now quiet and serene.

Your eyes drifted over the exposed chest of the dreaming man that had calmed the rain both inside you and outside, the peaceful air that hung around preventing you from fully standing up.

His prosthetic stirred and whispered through the quiet night air, the neutrally calm expression on his face a stark contrast to the usual stern look that pulled at his features.

As you traced the curve of his eyelashes, your mind flashed to the first night you had seen him, writhing in bed with those eyes tightly pulled together to drown out the demons they had sowed in through the nerves when they had connected his metal arm.

A fire ignited within you, pain and fury tugging at your feet to make contact with the cold tile floor as you stood up and covered yourself once more in the suit.

You were going to end it. Once and for all.

Somewhere once called home

At times like this you wish you had your music with you, the soft beating of the drum a faint background soundtrack to the movie-like crime you were about to commit.

Low humming took its place instead, a familiar melodie swirling around your mind and flowing between your lips to immerse in the howling wind.

The knives between your fingers scraped against eachother as you watched like an owl how the guards surrounded the place you once belonged.

Not anymore. Not since you found a new home, a home where blue and silver were the colors of the walls and black curtains hung around the windows you hadn’t had in your old home.

You emerged from the shadows and flung your knifes with precision, the pointy ends meeting eyes and heads as they dropped dead with a whiny groan of pain.

More of them came alert, but you swiftly took them down without a sweat, a gun in each of your hands as they charged at you.

One pair of brown eyes flashed with realisation as he took in your face, a single moment of hesitation giving you space to take him down and snatch his keys before he could comprehend who you truly were.

Clearing the entrance, you face the gates that you had walked through so many times, your determined legs stepping over the bodys littering the floor.

The screech of the metal bars sliding across the floor fueled the fire behind your eyes, blinding reason and the future as you flipped more knives in your hands with every intention to shed as much blood as possible.

You stood still infront of one of the big metal doors, a quick whiff enough to know there were armed soldiers standing on the other side. You smile devilishly as you continue humming, the empty space resonating the flowing sound loudly and spreading an eerie air behind the doors.

You slowly open the doors, your eyes meeting with at least twenty other pairs, looking all too familiar and... freightened.

This was your home after all. They knew what you were capable of. They had seen you do this before.

Somewhere Bucky regrets to be

The distinction of closed eyelids and the ever consuming night is small, Bucky’s heightened vision clearing up slowly as his mind tries to fling out every possible memory he could muster into the air.

The first thing he realises is that he’s not home, this is not his bed, and he certainly doesn’t remember ever sleeping this well.

He gasped and shot up straight, his eyes tracing every inch of the room for your face but comming empty. He glanced at the beside and felt disappointment swirl through him once again as he’s left in the dust for the hundredth time. How he kept falling into this is beyond him.

He didn’t waste time as he flung his naked body out of bed, yanked on his clothes and shook the locked door off its hinges to leave. He ignored the strange looks he was given and asked for a phone, dialing the only number he had space for in his contorted mind to memorize.

“Steve? It’s me- Buck-“

“Bucky?! Where the hell are you?!”, Steve’s voice screamed, both in relief and frantic panic.

“I, uh, I don’t know. Some weird place outside the city-“

“We’ll- we’ll get you once we’re done, okay? We’re heading to one of HYDRA’s secret bases. Thank god you’re okay. I thought they had kidnapped you.”

“Well someone actually did,” he mumbled, trying to figure out where you could’ve went for godssake.” I want to come. I think my imprisoner is there, too.”

A sigh and some mumbling was heard through the line, the person which he lended the phone from awkwardly smiling at him as they made eyecontact.

“We’re apparently almost over the city, if you can come to the tower I think we can pick you up.”

He sighed exasperatedly, giving the person a pleading smile as he asked his next question.” Can I borrow some money, too?”

The eerie halls of HYDRA

The aching feeling shooting up your arms and legs went completely ignored as you flung yourself from wall to wall, bullets raining on the men before you as blood spews on your face.

The low humming whispering through the air fought with the last breath of the last man standing, fighting for their place to live. The hollow pair of eyes remained staring into nothingness, seemingly peering right through you.

You wiped your sleeve over your face, staining the black leather red as you continued down many more halls with determination. With every drop of blood, your vision stained more crimison. With every grunt and every body dropping to the ground, your movements became more out of control.

The calculated swiftness was gone, a vicious bruteness taking its place as every sense of pain and victory vanished with every slicing of a throat. You lusted for blood, the adrenaline pumping through your veins so ethereal that all else was a blur. You didn’t have to think, to pay attention to what you were doing to bring down every man on your way.

Panting with a murderous smile on your face, you stood in front of the door at the end of your red rainbow. This was the end, the moment you had waited for and the only thing standing between you and happiness.

You timidly raised your bullet induced leg, kicking the door off its hinges with not even all your force. It crashed against the opposite wall as bullets immediately flew your direction. You hid behind a wall as a stern voice barked orders, the doorway too small for two men to enter thus giving you advantage as you took them down one by one like a videogame.

When silence had stretched the whole facility, the monster of your dreams hiding inside as you lingered out, you whistled the tune you had learned when you were still a kid.

A slow step inside, and then another, and another as you continued whistling the song that had been imbedded in your brain for what felt like centuries. The frantic beating of his heart filled your ears like music, the shudder that flowed through him like a wave boosting your adrenaline as you lifted your eyes to lock onto his.

He was holding a gun in one hand, a device with a bright red button on the other. He was trying to compose himself, although his heart already told its tale. Your blood smudged face broke into a smirk as he cocked the gun, a serious look on his rimpled features.

“If you take another step, I swear to god, I will blow us both up.”

The hellicarier

Wet grass made sucking sounds under his boots as Bucky nervously glanced at the facility they just landed a few good feet away from.

It was quiet, the darkness redering them from seeing too far.

“I’m flying closer. Move slowly and wait for my word,” Tony spoke, slowly flying away as Steve led the rest foreward.

His heart was booming in his chest, Tony’s voice crackling through the comms and right through his train of thoughts.

“The guards are down, and so seem to be the rest of the first line of defense,” he hummed, intrigued but still puzzled,” I’m going in.”

“Wait, Tony-“

It all seemed so surreal. None of it made any sense to him, no matter how much Bucky thought about it. As the facility started to clear, a shudder raked through him like a wildfire, memories of torture and imprisonment washing over him with a shaky sigh.

Steve was too busy rushing after Tony to notice, and Bucky was glad he didn’t. He wouldn’t be able to explain why he didn’t want to go inside, scared of the scene they were just about to encounter.

“Shit.”

An understatement, Bucky thought. A see of bodys littered the ground, knives plunged in painfully ruthless areas and surging vomit from within him. They had to step on them to pass, wincing and keeping eyes straight to not witness the blood seeping out eyes and mouths.

It seemed never ending. Every door they opened lead to another horrifying scene, each group murdered in a different and more ruthless way than the other. It was clear that whoever did this lost complete control.

They all could guess who it was, the knives sticking out of throats similar to the ones they had obtained from you a week ago. Motives were still unclear, although Bucky might have an idea.

He hoped and prayed you changed. That you murdering your fellow agents was a sign of your rebellion against them, and that you were on your way to kill the head of it all. Bucky didn´t know who the man was, and it hadn’t struck him before now that this must be the place that you grew up in. The same space he had been kept in for a short time considering his long life and many movings.

How had you not encountered eachother? If they knew how much you admired him, why not give you the opportunity to meet him or even see him?

“It’s here,” Natasha announced, causing all to stand still and look around the crimison walls.

“Uh.. can you be more specific?”, Clint piped up, scrunching his face as he heard crunching from under his feet. He stepped way, only to step on another body and earning him another echoing crushing sound.” fucking disgusting!”

“Shut up, Clint-“

“Found it,” Bucky sighed, eyes landing on the small musicdevice poking out of one of the pockets of the men that offered their lives to HYDRA. It was splattered with blood, but still in one piece.” What now?”

“..walk further,” Steve ordered, not flinching as the body beneath his feet moved from the pressure of his weight, the cracking sound awefully defined by the hollow walls of the filled room.

A couple hallways away

“Do it. I dare you.”

His wrinkled thumb lowerd slightly, but as it almost touched the button, he retreated it with a yell.

“I give you one last chance to leave, soldat! I swear on my grave that I will blow us to pieces!”

You chuckled, taking a step foreward. He pressed the trigger of the gun in shock of your movement, but it easily past by you by both his lack of aim and your swift step to the side.

“You care too much about your life to do this,” you coo’d,” oh, I know it all too well.”

“Get back!”, he screamed,” I fucking raised you! You have no right to-“

You cut him off by slamming your hands on the wooden desk, breaking it slightly as you leaned on it and got closer to his face.” I have every right to do what I’m doing. You ruined my life and his.”

He pressed the button, scrunching his face to a ball of prune, but snapped his eyes open as he heared your devilish laughter. “ You would never dare harm yourself. You would harm anyone— a little kid without a thought— but not yourself.”

You swatted both the gun and button out of his hands, gripping his collor and yanking him close to your face.” I was a kid. At most 10 years old, when I learned what it felt like to be burned alive. You don’t do that to a kid.”

“You had extraordinary talents for such a young age.”

“Brave for you to still talk this way when your life is in my blooded hands,” you whispered, releasing one hand to gently stroke his cheek, trailing a stripe of blood down his scruffy beard,” and when I’m so tempted to make you.. extraordinary, too.”

“Why now?” He hissed, seemingly swallowing his high squeek,” all those years of torture and not once did you fight back. Why now?”

Your eyebrows relaxed, millions of thoughts flooding your brain as you gave him a pat on the cheek.” I guess someone finally managed to break me the way you never could,” you whispered.

His eyes followed your every move as you pried in one of your pockets, revealing a small object and bringing it up to his face. A screw, small but long gleaming in the yellow light as his brows furrowed in anticipation.

“I found this in my suit yesterday. It was in my pocket, bloody and slightly crooked,” you continued whispering, eyes not leaving the screw as you twisted it in the light.” You know what this is?”

Before he could answer, you yanked him to the ground with all the force you had left. His head slammed next to his desk, a strangled gasp caught in his throat as he pushed out a groan.

You sat over him, the screw hovering between his eyes.” The forgotton screw. I found it in my back after my session. You wanna know how?”

He rapidly but barely shook his head in response, not being able to keep his eyes off the metal object between your fingers.” I tried to sleep after they had pulled out all fifteen they had hammered in my back to make me extraordinary, but in my moments of pain I must have not counted clearly. The moment my back hit the matress, it sunk so deep in my back that I couldn’t take it out.”

The pointy end lightly scraped over his head, a white line trailing up his nose.” I spend the whole night trying to pluck it out with my bare hands,” you whispered, putting a little pressure and elicting a yelp,” and I kept it. As a souvenir. I didn’t know why, back then, but now I’m glad I did.´´

With one quick motion, you lifted the screw into the air and plunged it in his eye, a gut wrenching scream heard through the whole facility, the dead even flinching in horror.

All heads seemed to turn simultaneously, Steve the first to react as he sprinted over de bodys to the source of the scream. Bucky followed soon after, his hair whipping in his face as he tried to control his breathing.

He didn´t know if he was relieved that the scream didn´t belong to you, or that he was terrified of what you were doing that elicted such a yell. He knew they probably deserved this, but at what emotinal cost?

They didn´t have to kick the door open, as it was already shook off its hinges and thrown across the room. His eyes landed on the body first, once eyes now mere black holes as scarlett seeped from them like a waterfall, mouth ripped by the edges as it strechted like a grin. The most horrifying thing above all, was the ragged breathing pushing past the blood, eyesockets pleadingly staring at them from their hollow space and sending a chill through Bucky´s spine.

Then, when he could tear his eyes away from the sickning sight, he was met with eyes filled to the brim with plain craze. He impulsively leaped from his space, brushing past the rest as he pulled you up from over the man and fell to the ground in frantic sloppiness. He cradled your motionless figure as his eyes found the dying body again, memories flooding his mind of the identification of the eyeless puppet. He was one of the men that had tried to find Bucky´s weaknesses by torturing him, convinced it would make him stronger. It never did.

After a long-stretched silence, your arms twitched at your side and lifted to embrace his chest. He held on tighter, trying to compose himself as a sob begged to escape his lips and fill the awkward air.

You pressed yourself against the warmth, a smile starting to form your lips as you focused on the heartbeat of your home. The blinding rage was slowly dripping from the edge and fading away into the blood on the ground, the adrenaline that had drummed in your veins washing away to leave you exhausted and drained.

´´Bucky,´´ Steve softly whispered, crouching down next to them as his brain wrecked havoc to make sense of the situation and the next. He didn´t answer, burrying your face into his shirt as the blood stained his fingers. He payed no attention, closing his eyes to hear the steady breathing that left your lungs to calm him down.

It was silent again, deafning and consuming, till you breathed out a melody, humming one of the only songs that brought happiness. Happiness, the only feeling you alowed yourself to feel at this moment. Happiness and longing, longing for the future. Longing for the man that rested his chin on your crown, shielding you with his arms as you took in the scent that lingered upon him.

The plot of your life finally made sense again.

THE END

A/N : wow. This was it, guys. the last chapter of my first series. It has been so much fun writing this and changing course every other chapter to the point I forgot to lead to the plot. If you have questions, please ask!

What do you think about the ending? Is it a happy one?

did you notice I put Bucky´s trigger words in every chapter, but in reverse? It´s supposed to be symbolic for the readers journey where instead of turning bad like Bucky does when he hears them in the good order, she turns (arguably) good with the reverse of it, reversing the damage of the triggerwords :)