#I mean sally didn’t know anything about the murder stuff and how could she have known that trying to hurt Natalie could have led to this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jtkys · 9 months

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could you, perhaps, do something with platonic bromance between ej and jeff. Like some sweet, fluffy tomfoolery

╭──────────.★..─╮

..“ᴊᴛᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴊ ʙʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇ/ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ,, ʜᴄs.

╰─..★.──────────╯

↳ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: ᴀɴᴏɴ! ༉‧₊˚✧

↳ ᴄᴡ/ᴛᴡs: ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴇᴇᴅ, sᴍᴏᴋɪɴɢ, ᴋɪᴅɴᴇʏs ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴇᴇᴅʟᴇs ʟᴏʟ ༉‧₊˚✧

↳ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢs/x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ: ᴊᴇꜰꜰ x ᴇᴊ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ) ༉‧₊˚✧

↳ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴇsꜰʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ/ɴᴏᴛᴇs: ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ. ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʜᴄs, ᴛʜᴇʏʀᴇ ᴘᴏʟᴀʀ ᴏᴘᴘᴏsɪᴛᴇs, ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇs ᴛʜᴇᴍ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅs ᴛʙʜ. ༉‧₊˚✧

»»————-　★　————-««

I see them both being like really different, atleast personally within my hcs.

I mean I see Jeff as a bit of an ass sometimes, nothin too bad just an annoying prick I guess.

And ej being the absolute opposite. Calm, respectful, level headed. He (was) a med student, and, in ej’s words: “you can’t be an aggressive doctor, Jeffrey.”

“Yeah ya can. You’d still be a doctor, just a shit one.” “Language.” “English.” “What??” “You asked my language.”

Imo Jeff smokes weed, I mean not as much nor as frequently as Ben (who, being a ghost, doesn’t really get that affected by it unless he smokes a lot)

And ej despising smoking. Honestly since Jeff got made into barbecue chicken, he’s a bit of a pussy when it comes to fire so if you wanna smoke with him he’s either gonna be vaping (coward)

Or you’re gonna have to light the ciggy (or whatev) for him. He ain’t touching a lighter with a 10 foot pole.

But yeah back to them, ej hates smoking in general because he’s (was) a med student.

“Do you know how bad that is for you? It can cause lung damage.” And blah blah blah, but he doesn’t force Jeff to stop.

He joins in sometimes if he’s drunk or unable to sleep, but he insists it stays between Jeff and himself. He has a reputation to uphold, Jeffrey!!!

Jeff loves gorey shit so sometimes he comes down to the medical wing and looks at all the kidneys and other weird organs that ej harvests.

It’s how they became friends, actually!

The reason they get along so well is because they balance eachother out. Jeff talks, ej listens. It’s perfect when either of them either want to rant or need some drama in their lives.

Jeff has tons of funny stories to tell and ej has all the time in the world to listen, so…

Jeff doesn’t care much for science but as stated previously, he likes the gorey bits. So he’ll listen to whatever medical big brain shit ej has to say because he just you know.. wants go see the organs. Weirdo.

I Imagine Jeff having a massive ego but also being pretty smart and quick to absorb knowledge (unlike Ben, who has anything remotely educational go in through one ear and out the other) so as soon as ej tells him about any sciency stuff he goes to yell at everyone else where his pancreas is and how he’s smarter than all of them now

(Jeff mixed up the pancreas and the liver but ej didn’t have the heart to correct him)

As much as Jeff seems like an egotistical prick who can’t sit still, ej got him into reading.

Sure it’s all horror books and comic books about graphic stuff and murder and whatever, but atleast he’s reading, right??

And you know how ej rubbed off on Jeff and started making him a BITTTT smarter? Jeff has done the same for ej, except he’s loosened him up a bit.

Ej can be seen around the mansion a lot more instead of just staying inside the medical bay.

He participates in game rights and banter and conversations more than he used to all thanks to Jeff. Infact he managed to befriend Sally!

I mean it’s the easiest thing in the world since she’s a sweetheart but like. He’s trying and he did well, okay??

Overall though they’re a pair of cuties and best buds

Sure, an unlikely pair, but best buds nonetheless.

»»————-　★　————-««

↳ ᴛᴀɢs: ɴᴏɴᴇ. ༉‧₊˚✧

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demons-and-demigods · 30 days

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Demons and Demigods Part Three: The Interim

Alright, timelines really start to get fucky here because I felt like, yknow? Also, fair warning here: not only do I start playing fast and loose with the timelines, this is also a John Winchester Hate Account if you hadn't guessed from part 1: the beginning, and in this part Sally does in fact murder him. So. Be prepared for that, I guess.

Insert the events of The Lost Hero blah blah blah and edited events of season one. Namely John doesn’t meet back up with the boys (Dean left him a voicemail after they left Sally’s telling him that they found out Aunt Sally was alive and that he and Sam needed some space so they didn’t want to see him, but would still appreciate it if he reached out to let them know he was alive. He does neither. Instead, he headed to Sally’s apartment and practically broke down the door, all ‘how dare you turn my boys against me’ and ‘what right do you have’ and etc etc. Sally just gave him the middle finger and stabbed him. She cleaned up at the blood, then Paul helped her get the body out to the car and they drove out to CHB where Thalia and the hunters were staying after sending an IM and explaining that she needed help getting rid of the body of her nephews’ piece of shit father and the hunters are more than happy to oblige and Paul stays in the car to help the hunters feel more comfortable while Sally, Thalia, and the rest of the hunters have a wonderful little bonfire in a clearing just outside of camp.) 

(Sally does call Dean and Sam and tell them what happened. She admits that she killed him and doesn’t feel bad about it, but she knows that he was their father even if he was a shitty one and they deserve to know what happened to him.) (Dean has pretty mixed feelings about it. He thanked Sally for telling him, and for telling the truth instead of making up a story or something, and then said that he needed some time to get his head back on straight. Sam keeps Sally updated on what they’re up to and how Dean’s doing and if they’ve heard or seen anything about Percy and she keeps him updated in turn about the Percy Situation.) 

John is replaced by Bobby <3 

Episode rewrite info and more lore below the cut

Faith goes a little differently because Bobby actually shows up because he’s the best, and Sam calls Sally to ask if she knows anything that could help Dean and she says that she’ll ask Chiron and the Apollo kids if they know anything/would be willing to help. Sam and Bobby haul Dean over to NY and Will swings by Sally’s apartment to take a look at Dean and does what he can to help. Bobby and Sally get along wonderfully, by the way. Sam told him that she killed John and when he asks her about she’s just like yeah and I’d do it again he was a dick and I never liked him anyway and after learning what he did to Dean I feel no remorse for what I did. And Bobby’s just like damn I like this woman. Anyway, he gets filled in on the Greek stuff and the Percy Stuff (at this point, Piper, Jason, and Leo’s quest is done and they’re working on building the Argo II and Sam and Dean offered to head to California to see if they could find Percy, but Sally and Annabeth told them it would be better to let it play out, especially since Percy didn’t know them and likely had amnesia) and then the boys head out for the Nebraska and Roy and the rest of the episode pretty much goes down like normal only Bobby is there and helping them because I love him and he loves his boys. 

They find the colt and yadda yadda yadda. Instead of John getting possessed by Azazel and being too nice in the cabin and shit, Bobby is possessed and he’s too mean and so that shit plays out how it did just with Bobby replacing John. Also Bobby doesn’t sell his soul or the colt. Instead, Tessa and Dean are having their thing and then something boots Tessa and Dean is like what the fuck because she just disappeared and then he sees three old ladies knitting and they tell him that it’s not his time yet and he’s part of their world now so his life is theirs to end and they have need of him still. So the Fates intervened and plopped Dean back in his body and fixed him up and shit because I say so. 

Since John wasn’t around to tell Dean to ‘save Sam or kill him,’ they find out about the demon blood and yellow eyes’ plan some other way idk and Sam doesn’t run away to IN or run off and get possessed by a demon later because whatever fuck it. However, around the episode Croatoan is when Percy gets sent on his quest to Alaska and then around Night Shifter is when Percy leaves Sally that voicemail having done the whole thing with Phineas and the gorgon’s blood and is starting to get his memories back. 

After the shifter thing and getting on the news and stuff, Sally calls to let them know that she’s heard from Percy (after she messages Annabeth) and to tell them that they can lay low with her and Paul until the media calms down about the bank robberies and shit. She helps them research what might be going on with Sam and his visions. 

Annabeth tells Sally that the Argo II is finally complete and her, Jason, Piper, and Leo are leaving for CA to get Percy and also there’s prophecy shit they have to do so she doesn’t know when they’ll be back but she’ll do her best to keep Sally updated and make sure Percy IMs her. 

Sam and Dean have left at this point so Sally calls them to fill them in on that. 

The next day, All Hell Breaks Loose shit goes down. Sam has poofed, Dean and Bobby are trying to find him, etc etc. Sam dies, Dean makes his deal, the Fates don’t intervene because they know that the angels will bring him back and whatnot and he has a year and the Gaea thing will be over by then anyway .

Percabeth reunion!!!! There has been a criminal lack of Percy content in this so far, but we have finally arrived!!! He’s here!!!  My boy!! Son of Neptune happened behind the scenes because nothing changed on Percy’s end lmao. 

Mark of Athena starts, Percabeth reunion my beloved. Leo is possessed and fires on Rome, they haul ass, Percy is pissed, shit gets sorted, etc. When they stop for the supply run to fix the Argo II, Annabeth and Percy stay on the ship and call Sally. 

Sally and Percy have a tearful remote reunion and Sally tells him to stay safe and get home to her as soon as possible. And then she tells him about Mary, Dean, and Sam. Percy is kinda reeling but he’s excited to meet his cousins once the Gaea and Giants shit is over. They say goodbye and Annabeth tells Percy about Sam and Dean from her short time meeting them. Percy tells her about his time at the wolf house and his quest to Alaska to free Thanatos. 

Percy and Jason, possessed, have their death match in that Kansas cornfield, and Sam and Dean and been nearby and, upon hearing about the weird disturbance, show up just in time to watch the end of the fight and see Piper knock Jason and Percy out lmao. They are Quaking. They’d managed to go unnoticed by everyone on the Argo, but they spot Annabeth and grab her attention to be like hey what the fuck just happened/what is going on????? 

And Annabeth is like oh shit hey yeah so we’re on a quest to Greece to stop Mother Earth from waking up and whatever but that right there was Percy and Jason fighting. They were possessed by spirit servants of Gaea so it wasn’t really their fault that they were fighting but it’s a good thing that Piper was out there with them otherwise Jason probably would have died. 

Sam and Dean are lowkey still freaking out because that is a lot of information to take in all at once and also it’s one thing to hear that Percy is powerful and another to see him fight with their own eyes. 

Note that will be relevant in the next part: the Winchester boys are so entrenched in the supernatural that celestial bronze recognizes them as something more than mortal and works on them.

Now, this part was shorter but that's because I got excited and have a scene written directly following this that I'm gonna post next.

#dndv #dndv lore #demons and demigods verse #dean winchester #sam winchester #bobby singer #supernatural #spn #sally jackson #annabeth chase #percy jackson #paul blofis #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #I'd tag leo and jason and piper except they're not /really/ in this so I won't clog their character tags with this #same goes for thalia #john winchester (derogatory)#also not for long

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totallynormalfanficauthor · 3 years

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“Doctor?”

Sally called for her creator as she headed down the ramp to the bottom floor of the tower. She strolled daintily across the tile to his lab, and went inside without hesitation. Finkelstein was right where she expected him to be- off to the side of the room working on some sort of project. Jewel was standing to his left, presumably helping him.

They both looked up as she entered.

“Ah, Sally. Come in, my girl.” The doctor turned his attention back to the work in front of him. “Do you need something?”

“I just wanted to let you know I’ll be heading out now,” She told him.

“I see. And where will you be headed?”

“Well…” Sally hesitated, “...Jack made some plans for us today, I believe. Although I don’t know exactly where he’s taking me..”

The Doctor made a noise through his nose, “-fooling around with that boyfriend of yours again, I should have guessed.”

“Ohh, leave her alone, Finky. I think it’s sweet.” Jewel smiled at her and nodded kindly. “Have a horrible time, Sally. We’ll see you later then.”

“Just don’t be out too late.”

She nodded, thanked them, and was on her way.

Needless to say, Sally had been pretty ecstatic when she received a phone call from her lover earlier that morning. He informed her that he cleared his schedule so the two of them could spend the day together, and she agreed to meet him in town by the fountain, right before lunch time. At first, Sally was worried this was some important date she was forgetting. But it wasn’t. He explained that he just wanted to see her again, and that this was something he wanted to plan for a bit now. She figured he must have been missing her- Jack was like that sometimes.

When Sally arrived in town, it was about as busy as it normally is. Creatures and monsters of all kinds were hurrying around, continuing out their day. She gazed up at the pumpkin sun, smiling as the warm light washed over her face. A murder of crows could be heard in the distance, squawking about. Sally could already tell she was going to have a horrific time this afternoon, and she couldn’t wait to see her beloved skeleton again.

The fountain was within her view now. And so was Jack.

The Pumpkin King was standing just where he said he’d be. His back was facing Sally, and he had one hand on his hip. He waved to people as they passed him, mumbling a few greetings here and there too. Her heartbeat quickened at the sight. Smiling wider, she sped up her pace and approached him. He jolted slightly and whipped around to face her as she grabbed his hand with zero hesitation.

“Jack-”

“Sally! There you are!” He placed an arm around her to pull her into a hug, “I’ve been waiting, I’m so glad you’re here.”

She blushed a tiny bit and hugged him back, “...Glad to be here as well, very horrible to see you again, Jack.”

“Yes, I missed you dearly..”

She laughed, “It’s only been a few days..”

“Still..” He chuckled lightly and let go of her. “Alright, Sal… thank you for agreeing to come with me today. I have.. Quite a bit planned, I’m sure it will be the most dreadful experience.”

“I can’t wait..” Sally brushed a piece of hair away from her cheek. “Where are we headed to first, darling?”

“I was thinking… lunch.” He took her by the hand, “if you want to… I thought, a picnic by the lake would be nice?”

“Ohh, that sounds marvelous..” she squeezed his hand in return, “I’m quite hungry, actually. I’d love that.”

“Fantastic. I was hoping you’d say so… I kind of.. set it up already.”

Sally laughed, “thinking ahead.. I like that.”

“Shall we be off then?”

“We Shall.”

—

By now, Sally was used to the stares she would get whenever her and Jack were seen around town together. It had, after all, only been a few weeks since the two of them started dating. After the pumpkin king had gone so long being a single man, it was odd to see him… well, not single.

But Sally didn’t mind the curious looks. If anything, it only fueled her. She was proud to be the one to have won his heart. Hard for her to believe sometimes, yes, but it was true. She squeezed his hand tighter, sighing contently.

The two of them spoke briefly on their stroll towards the lake. Sally asked how Zero was doing, and Jack was curious to know if she was working on any new projects. But for the most part, they just wanted to enjoy each other's company. And it only seemed moments before the lake came into view in the distance.

Jack was speaking truthfully when he said he’d already set everything up. Sally could see there was a rather large, dark blanket lying on the ground in typical picnic-like fashion. Sitting on top of it was a basket, with a couple small plates and napkins stacked next to it. Dark, rich red roses were scattered around the edges. It was a very pretty set up- very romantic.

“Ohh… this is lovely..” Sally spoke as they approached.

“...You think so?”

“Of course,” the two of them strolled forward and came to sit on opposite sides of the blanket. Jack looked pleased as he reached for the basket. “...What did you bring?”

“Well, I made us some sandwiches,” he answered, “-one has worms, and the other, beetles. I was going to let you pick.”

He placed down two plates and reached into the basket. Pulling out the sandwiches he spoke of, he placed those down on the plates. Then continued looking through the basket. “I brought some other things too, of course… a bag of spider legs,- oh! And here.” He pulled two tea cups out of the basket as well. Sally watched as he filled them with what she could only assume to be tea, out of an unlabeled bottle. She smiled.

“Oh, this is all so wonderful, Jack. I’ve never been on a picnic like this before. Thank you..”

“It’s my pleasure, my goal is for you to have the most horrific time today.”

“Mm..” Sally leaned back to rest on her hand, folding her legs. She couldn’t help but think.. something seemed off about her boyfriend. What with the way kept mentioning he wanted her to have a ‘horrific day’, and all. She knew he had good intentions, but she couldn't shake the feeling there was more to this he wasn’t telling her. Almost like there was something on his mind.

“Which sandwich would you prefer, Sal?” She looked up suddenly.

“What? Oh, um..” she thought for a second, adjusting her dress as she was snapped from her thoughts, “..I don’t mind. I guess, worms would be good.”

She nodded her thanks as Jack leaned over and handed the sandwich to her. It did look really good- she’d nearly forgotten how hungry she was. Taking her first bite was just as satisfying.

“So,” Jack spoke, deciding to strike up a conversation, “How was your morning?”

“Just fine, thank you. I was very glad to receive your phone call. How was yours?”

“Pretty uneventful” he paused to sip his tea, “..most of my time was spent trying to convince the mayor that taking one day off isn’t going to ruin our plans for the rest of the year.” They both chuckled.

“He’s quite dramatic, isn’t he?”

“That he is. He means well, though.”

They both fell silent. Sally studied Jack’s face as she crunched onto a spider leg, trying to read his expression. His eye sockets shifted over to hers suddenly and she blinked, slightly embarrassed to have been caught staring but didn’t look away.

“Sally?”

“Yes?”

“..this is a bit of a random question, but” he put his cup down, “..do you ever think about… your future?”

“My future..?”

“Yes. You know, like..” he leaned back a bit and thought for a moment, “...like, where you’d see yourself. Or how you’d want things to be.”

“Hmm…” Sally pondered this question, “..well, yes, I suppose I do..”

“Really?” he looked intrigued, “..and what sort of things do you think about? If you don’t mind me asking..”

“Well… oh, I don’t know..”, she put her sandwich down to reach for her own tea, “Just..the normal things, I suppose. I think I’d like to...get married someday…” she broke eye contact and stared down at the orange liquid in her cup. “...and maybe.. have a family… you know?”

“A family…” Jack paused, “you mean, like… children?”

The ragdoll felt her face warm. “...yeah.”

Once again they both went quiet. Sally wondered if maybe she said the wrong thing. But that’s a perfectly normal thing to want, right? Surely..

“-That sounds lovely, Sal.” She looked up suddenly as Jack spoke. His posture was relaxed and his expression looked understanding. “..I guess it’s just a matter of seeing where things go, then.”

“I suppose so..” She tilted her head at him, becoming sort of curious, “-why do you ask about this, Jack?”

“What? Oh, well… I don’t know..” He glanced away for a moment and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I guess I’ve just… been thinking about it quite a bit myself, lately.”

“Really?” Sally put her cup down, “And what sorts of things do you think about?”

He hesitated, his gaze shifted downward. “...about the same as you, I guess..”

“I see…”

After a moment Jack looked back up. It was then that he decided to change the subject entirely.

“-How are you enjoying the food?”

“Oh, this is delicious, thank you.”

“I’m glad you think so, let me know if you need anything else, alright?”

“Of course.”

Jack and Sally spent the next hour or so chatting away as they finished up their picnic. It was very nice to be spending quality alone time together like this again. They both found themselves enjoying it immensely.

Sally didn’t try to think about or pry anymore into what Jack might have on his mind. If there was something he wanted to talk about, Sally figured he’d say something. Otherwise, she wanted to be respectful and leave it be. So she tucked away her suspicions in the back of her mind instead, and decided to carry on with whatever Jack had planned.

Once they finished eating and everything, Sally thanked him yet again for bringing her out there. With such a fine view of the lake, it made for the most lovely date. They packed everything up and headed back to Jack’s house where he ran inside to put his stuff away. Sally was able to say Hi to Zero, and the two met back outside by Jack’s gate. Sally squeezed his hand.

“What did you have planned next, dearest?”

“Something simple,” He squeezed her hand back, “I was thinking we could take a walk? It is such a terrible day afterall. Through the Hinterlands maybe? What do you think?”

“Oh, I’d love that,” Sally smiled happily as they started forward, “-and after all that sitting too, my legs really need stretching.”

Jack chuckled, “Sounds like a plan then.” And started them on the path towards the Hinterlands.

By the time they got there, the pumpkin sun was high in the sky. Its orange light swept over everything, gracefully as the bat flies. It truly was a terrible day, the perfect weather to take a walk. Sally was practically beaming as they started down the trail. She gazed up at the swirling trees all around them, wondering just how tall they were. Leaves and sticks snapped and cracked under their shoes as they strolled along.

“This is so peaceful, Jack… it’s just what I wanted..”

“I’m glad to hear you say that. Have you ever visited the Hinterlands?”

“Not like this..” She shook her head, “I’ve come to the edge of it to collect herbs before… but I've never walked around or through it.”

“Ah, I see. You’re in for a treat then, It's a gorgeous place.”

“I can see that... '' Sally gazed around, wide eyed. “..this is where you discovered the holiday doors, isn’t it?”

“Yes, indeed. It’s a pretty far walk though, so we don’t have to go there today. Maybe another time though, I’d love for you to visit Christmas Town.”

She chuckled, “You really think Sandy Claws would let you over there? After everything?”

“Hey, now, he and I are on good terms now.” He laughed a bit as well, “Besides, if it’s just for a visit I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. It’s not like I'd be going there to steal anything… again.”

“Fair point.”

They continued on, making small conversation but mostly enjoying each other’s company and the view of the trees around them.

As they walked Sally briefly let go of Jack’s hand to adjust hair that had blown into her face by the sleight breeze that drifted through them as they walked. She couldn’t help but notice the sticks scattered on the ground, some of them bigger than the others. She wondered if maybe a recent storm had knocked them down.

As she turned to ask her boyfriend a question, she neglected to see a particularly large branch on the ground a few paces ahead of her. Unfortunately, in just the wrong spot.

“Jack, why does- !” She gasped as she suddenly tripped, her foot caught on the jaggedy surface. Jack tried to reach out and catch her, but because he didn’t have her hand, he missed. Sally went tumbling down with an ‘oof’.

“Sally!” Jack's voice was edged with panic as he shouted for her. He crouched down to her level trying to help her up right away, “Are you alright?!”

The ragdoll lifted herself up onto her elbows, turning to face Jack and taking his hand. “Eugh...y-yeah… I’m okay..” Her face and chest were covered in dirt from the impact. Jack helped her sit up a little bit more, and only then noticed the rest of the damage.

“Darling, your leg..!”

Sally looked down, surely enough, her leg had become detached at the knee. The thread was completely broken, and leaves were spilling out everywhere. She could feel her left arm was a bit loose as well.

She brushed the dirt from her cloth skin as she tried to reassure her now worried boyfriend. “Jack, I’m fine, really. I didn’t get hurt-”

“But your leg-”

“Is fine! I brought my spool and needle with me, we just need to reattach it, that's all.”

“It really doesn’t… hurt?”

“Not at all.”

Jack sighed, still on edge but very relieved that she was okay. Sally flipped around so that she was sitting up straight, and reached into her pocket.

“...That was some fall, what happened?” He asked.

“I think I.. tripped on something..” She pulled out her spool of thread and reached behind her ear for the needle. Then motioned toward her detached leg. Jack took the hint and grabbed it, pushing it up towards her. Then he paused.

“May I… help you? If it’s alright?”

“Help me?”

“Yes,” he pointed to her limb, “I’d like to try… sewing you.”

He’ll admit, that sounded like an odd request outloud. But Sally didn’t seem to mind. She thought for a moment, then handed him the respected tools.

“Yes, alright. Go ahead.” She decided to take this moment to tighten up the stitches on her arm instead. While she did that, Jack got busy with her leg.

He threaded the needle first then stuffed all her leaves back inside. Then did his best to line it up with her knee. After some reassurance, he hesitated, then pushed the thread through until it broke the skin. With that, he began to sew her up.

Jack couldn’t help but take note of the other details across her leg that he had never noticed. The way her stitches made such a cute, intricate pattern. He also noticed how smooth, and quite soft her skin was, something he’d never thought about considering he had never done this before. He found himself staring at her legs and, slightly ashamed of himself, opted to look up instead while his hands continued to work.

He noticed Sally tugging at the seams across the middle of her arm, presumably tightening them. They must have come loose in the fall as well.

Finally finished, he tied a small knot and snapped the end off. He briefly gazed over his work- it seemed to be pretty good, but Sally would have to be the judge of that.

“What do you think?” he asked, “Tight enough?”

He sat back while the ragdoll stretched out her leg, bent it, then brushed her fingers neatly over the seams.

“-It’s perfect, Jack, thank you. You did wonderfully.”

“Not a problem at all” The skeleton stood up, and offered his hand to her. She took it, stood, and walked a few paces just to be sure. Jack rejoined her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, chuckling lightly. “This time, I’m going to make sure you’re safe. You won’t be falling again.”

Sally giggled, “My hero..” And wrapped an arm around him in return before they both continued on their walk, happy, ready for their date to resume right where they left off.

—

Sally was ecstatic to be spending the rest of the day with her beloved. Jack wasn’t kidding when he said he had a lot of stuff planned. After their walk through the Hinterlands, They decided to head back to Jack’s place to spend some time there. Jack had some books he wanted to show her, then they watched a movie together. Snuggling on the couch- that was most enjoyable.

By this time, the afternoon was finally turning into the evening. They hit a couple different places before Jack took Sally to their favorite restaurant for dinner. He paid for all their food, and even bought Sally a very delicious dessert- a Melting Blood cake. Which they shared, and were barely able to finish.

Once they were done eating, the sun was just about starting to go down. Jack informed her that he had one more thing on their to-do list for tonight, and he suggested they watch the sunset from the top of spiral hill.

Sally was more than happy to oblige, that sounded like quite the wonderful idea to her. Like the perfect way to end what had been the most perfect day.

The ragdoll followed him to the top of the hill, reaching out to grab his hand when they got there. They turned, faced towards the sun setting across town. It edged slowly, washing its golden light over the buildings as it did. Sally sighed contently. Here she was, holding her lover's hand, watching the sunset from the place they’d shared their first kiss. Oh, how could things get any better?

“…Sally?”

She glanced up as Jack spoke her name, very softly.

“Yes?”

“Are you happy?”

Sally blinked, slightly surprised at the question. “Oh, yes, Jack. I’m very happy, more than I’ve ever been before.”

“…and your day today. Just as horrific as I said it would be?”

“Even more.. you’ve done so much for me. I’d..I’d almost say you’re treating me like a queen.”

The sentence rolled off Sally’s tongue before she could really think about it. Not that she was wrong- he was in fact treating her extra special that day. One could wonder.. why?

She blushed a bit and looked up at him, waiting for a reply. For a moment, his expression was blank. Before his sockets went half lidded and he smiled.

“Funny… that you would say that.”

“Oh..?” her heartbeat quickened a tiny bit. Surely not..

“Yeah..” he turned towards her suddenly and cupped both of her hands inside his own. “Sally… I need to ask you something.”

“W…what is it..?” She trembled slightly, having a feeling what might come next but finding it hard to believe. He continued.

“I know we… haven’t been together for very long. But.. these past couple weeks that I’ve had you by my side, have surely been some of the best. And I know, from the bottom of my heart, that I don’t want anyone else by my side. And I never will want anyone else by my side.”

Her heart rate quickened yet again, eyes swelling up with tears this time.

“J…J-Jack..”

“-I know that… every part of me loves you, so very dearly. And I want you by my side forever.”

He got down on one knee.

Sally clasped a hand over her mouth as her tears began to fall. She sobbed lightly, her heart overflowed as she could hardly believe this was real. She tried one more time to say his name, but it came out cracked and broken amidst her cries. Jack almost looked ready to cry himself, as he squeezed her hands one final time.

“Sally Finkelstein…. My dearest friend… and most beloved angel of my nightmares…”

He leaned forward.

“…Will you marry me?”

…

….

“….YES!”

Sally burst into tears and sprang forward, barely leaving Jack anytime to get back to his feet and catch her. They wrapped their arms around each other tightly. Neither wanting to let go nor planning on it. Jack could feel her crying into his suit, not that he minded at all. He went to give her a kiss on the cheek before she lifted her head very suddenly to catch his lips. Jack melted into the kiss and they held each other, staying there for several moments. Neither of them needed air anyway.

Finally they separated and Jack cupped Sally’s face, moving close so their foreheads were touching. Tears were still spilling out from her eyes, and a large smile was plastered across her face. She attempted to get words out, only partially succeeding.

“J-Jack….I-I…I can’t believe… you…and-and me…”

“Shhh,” he hushed her calmly. “Take a deep breath, my love. It’s alright.”

Sally did as he suggested and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. That seemed to do the trick.

“Jack…” she choked out, wiping her eyes, “I love you..”

“I love you too…I really, really do.”

“D-Did you have this planned… all day..?”

“Of course I did. I needed it… to be special, you know?” He held her close and chuckled lightly. “I’m sorry, I don’t.. have the ring yet. It’s currently being made- but once I heard, I ah, got so I excited… I just had to ask-“

“N-No, it’s okay, Jack. It’s okay. I’m glad you asked… oh.. you’ve made me so, so happy.”

“And you’ve made me happy, Sally..”

She nuzzled into him more, holding him tighter.

“So… this means, I-I can, move in with you?”

“If that’s what you’d like”

“Yes…yes” more tears fell, “oh, Jack, I love you so much.”

“I-I love you too, Sal..” he wiped his own socket, realizing he’d become a bit choked up himself. “…we’re not.. moving too fast, are we?”

“Oh, oh no…” she reassured him, “believe me, Jack, there’s nobody I’d rather be with either. I love you, okay? With all of my heart.”

“So you said… I feel the exact same.”

The sun had gone completely down by now. The moon gradually rose above them, and the graveyard swallowed in the darkness. The atmosphere couldn’t be more perfect. Jack and Sally collapsed into kisses on top the hill, all they really wanted was to be by, and with each other right now.

Right now.

And tomorrow.

And forever.

#the nightmare before christmas #tnbc #nightmare before christmas #jack skellington #sally #sally skellington #dr finkelstein #jewel #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #jack x sally #jack and sally #marriage proposal #:)))))

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ziracona · 3 years

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Who of the DBD original killers do you think would be cool to see in horror movies? What characters do you think have the most potential for a film and what do you think it should/could be like?

Interesting question! Let’s see: Lisa, Sally, Philip, Max, Evan, Herman, Anna, Kenneth, Rin, Frank/Julie/Susie/Joey, Adiris, Danny (kind of), Kazan, Caleb, Talbot, and the Deshayes.

Hmmmm. Danny would work the least well as an original product, because he’s also a Scream expy thing. And then I also don’t think Talbot would work well outside a very DbD like in-universe heavy story, because he just has so much realm context backstory.

Out of the others, they all have potential. Basically none of the sympathetic ones would work as standalone horror characters, because they just didn’t like, /do/ murders before in-realm or live horror lives. The exceptions being Charlotte, Legion, Anna, Max, and Lisa. A lot of the others are definitely interesting enough to be really cool to watch their backstory lives, just, it wouldn’t be traditional horror. Charlotte and Lisa wouldn’t be the antagonists, but they /did/ both live complex horror lives before the realm, and there’s a lot of tragic potential there. Anna, Max, and Legion are all fairly sympathetic killers, but they /did/ live horror experiences before their time in-realm, so they have potential too. Out of them, I think Anna would be the strangest to adapt as traditional horror, since so much of her genre is tragedy and drama, and a narrative from her pov doesn’t play her as living a horror story, while Max and Legion’s do. It /could/ be crazy sad and work though, especially if you say, started the film from the pov of a kid who is kidnapped by her and the family who loses the child, and then only slowly as Anna goes from this horrific thing that kills people and steals children and eats human, to a weird kidnapper mother-wannabe, does she become less a monster and more complex. Maybe then you get flashbacks. It’d be dark, though, because even if you learned her past and understood what she’s been through and why she did what she did, and she and the child form any kind of bond, and she’s temporarily happy with a daughter and full of affection, you know none of her kids ever lived, so it would have to end with the child she’s had a few slow heartwarming moments with falling ill and her working hard to make her better, keep her warm, only to return from a hunt or panicked mission to collect herbs, relieved to have found what she needs, only to find a cold lifeless body waiting. Which she cradles for hours weeping, and then goes to bury finally behind the house, and only then does the audience realize this is one more joining fourteen graves that have come before it. And god, that’s just...so dismal. Chilling.

Uhhh, Max could be really good, but I would be so afraid people would adapt him badly because mentally ill and disabled antagonists in horror like, almost without fail are disgustingly treated. So, this one gives me fear. It could be a really nice character study, slow understanding movie though, where you go from identifying with him and him being the character in a horror situation, to the monster at the end of the film killing anything who comes near him in a frenzied need to be left alone. Also a very tragic and dark film.

The Legion would be a top pick, because it’s less dark and more like, unique? As far as horror goes. You get these kids, kind of a Gingersnaps, The Craft feel horror, with character-driven and a slow build into the actual horror of it all. Things only spiral slowly, and you like and sympathize with at least to some degree the stupid shit teens by the time things fall apart and their is blood on their hands. And there’s just--so much in the air. One murder. Unplanned. Punk troublemakers that just went off the edge into something darker on accident, and never really have time to choose what this means for them as people or if they’ll come back, because they are still in the immediate turmoil of processing that first kill when the Entity grabs them all. Could be really sick. Also there’s so much sweet-tragedy to work with here, I die for it. Ahhh, and baby Jeff Johansen! --Side note: while I think a lot of these would be cool horror films, honestly, I wouldn’t make horror flicks out of any of them. The reason isn’t that they would be bad films, but that I think the ideal way to adapt dbd killers cinematically would be in like, a DbD tie-in miniseries that’s a collection of stories that gives you backstories like archives does, but does it /way/ better. Like how Overwatch does character short films periodically for lore, except longer and probably live action. Or like the Coming To America segments in American Gods before episodes/chapters that introduce characters or backstory. I fkn love that concept in media when it’s done well. I think it would be super sick, and it would be a great way to tie things into dbd while letting different killers have unique flavors and storytelling styles to their shortfilms. (Honestly, DbD as a concept could make for some /fantastic/ tv show material. I’d /love/ to adapt it. And if there /was/ a show, it would be really cool to periodically have episodes that are just character backstories before you go back to the like, over-arching realtime plot).

Uhhhh, Lisa’s would be tragic, and it would /have/ to go full story. Poor kid just living her life, to kidnapped and struggling to survive. Trying to escape. Canibalized and tortured horribly. Eventually dying and vowing revenge. All the way to twisted and abused by the Entity, doing things she never ever would have chosen for herself, for just the...the fucking wholesale tragedy of her. Honestly, if DbD had a show, she’d be a /fantastic/ choice for first or second killer to get a backstory segment or episode, because like, people new to the media would understandably be like ‘yo these monsters are all 100% evil’ but then you get Lisa and you’re like ‘Oh fuck. That was one of the creepiest, and really she’s some poor young woman who needs rescuing as much as the survivors,’ and then there’s just so much left up in the air to question--who else is like her? And who is like Danny, or Freddy? Who is somewhere in between? Great for storytelling.

Uhhh, it’d take a long time to break down how I’d adapt all of these even with me doing shortform like this so I’ll try to be brief. Let me see. Charlotte would be great horror, back to the original question, not my miniseries fantasy, because her whole life is a horror film she’s the victim in, but her situation is complex and fascinating, and she’s a kid, and it’s so tragic, but not in a pointless way. Her life was full of love and pain, but it mattered, to her, to her mom who loved her and died for her, and to the baby brother whose corpse she couldn’t stop cradling and literally carrying not just with but in her. I think you’d have to finish that heartbroken for the girl, and hoping somehow she is able to find healing in whatever time she has left.

Sally and Philip both went through awful stuff, but Philip’s is not really a subject for just a horror film--although his time in Autohaven could be. Sally also had horrific experiences at her job, but again, like Max, less excited about this one because I don’t trust many people to do a good job with an asylum story. If done well, could be really tragic. Watching her fall apart trying to care about the people who just deserve help, and falling apart being abused by the criminals kept right in the next room over. The horrific ‘treatments’, the slow influence of the Entity whispering in her head, her finally fracturing and believing so completely she is saving people by purifying them and setting them free while she smothers a young boy who trusted her to death. Devastating. And Philip’s life overall and his time in autohaven lend themselves very well to horror, and he’d be a magnificent protagonist, I just don’t think if it was mostly the stuff in America, that that’s a full-length movie. Could be a really great like 45 minute short film. God, poor Philip. He deserved /none/ of this. Uhhh, Rin’s is horrific, with her as the victim, but like Philip, there’s not a /ton/ of buildup, so short film, not feature? Also God, poor Rin. She was just a kid. Doing her best. Please, Entity, fucking stop this.

This leaves Evan, Herman, Kenneth, Adiris, Kazan, and Caleb. Out of these, Caleb would make for a really good movie, but I don’t think it would be a horror film? It’d be a drama, or action-adventure. I mean don’t get me wrong--dark drama--his life was fucked--but like, it isn’t very horror-genre. Kenneth would be super gross but he fits classic horror well so if you want a killer clown, let’s goooo, but like? It’d just be two hours of him drugging, torturing and assaulting and then killing kids, teens, young adults, adults, and old people? And like, almost getting caught but not, and then being recruited by the Entity? And there’s just...not a story in there I see very worth telling? So I’d hard pass. Gross.

Uhhhh, Herman is boring if he’s rewrite. Torture bastard but like with mad scientist vibes is more interesting, and I could dig a CIA is evil film. Only, since he canonically kills /everybody/ in the building, you’d either have to retcon, or have a very disappointing film. Because Herman can’t be the pov character if he’s mad scientist Herman--you kinda need to see that from the outside at least as like, a deuteragonist. Not that horror is always disappointing if the cast all dies--sometimes that works--but like. Given the plotline I know Herman’s life takes, I can’t see your protag being slowly mind control tortured and then eventually experimented on and ripped apart until they die Herman’s last day being a very worthwhile storyline. If you retcon the complete losses though, and have maybe a spy who is the pov character, experimented on a lot, tries to escape and is punished, maybe tries to help a friend, tries to kill Herman in retribution for what he does to a colleague, and last day, somehow finds a way to survive whatever is done to them/not end up vegetative for the rest of their life or dead? Maybe puts a plan into action and messes up a machine and gets hit with a much lower than it looks like dosage of electricity and fakes vegetative, and survives, and witnesses the Entity come and take Herman even, and the Entity notices them and is like “Okay...more free food” so you have a last minute terrified beat to shit spy trying to break free of arm restraints and escape the place before the Entity gets them. Maybe rescues someone else too? Then baybeee we got a story with a great antag! Throw in a new protag to spice it up and u got something I’d like to see. If it’s just torture man lover Herman -the mad scientist aspect, I am not super interested but it’s not a /hard/ pass. I keep this pitch, it just becomes a less interesting film.

Adiris baby, I’m so sorry I didn’t do you with the sympathetic killers you know I love you your name was just late in my list because of how I typed it. Uhhh, her life doesn’t lend well to horror, although she’s a fantastic drama or epic. I’d love to see a major focus on her in-relam in a show, but as far as this question goes, I just don’t think that’s her genre.

This leaves Kazan and Evan. Guess I lied before about not going into any detail TuT but I’ll try. Uhhh. Kazan I am just not that interested in the story of? Man goes around killing farmers brutally for no reason. It’s less horror, more historical drama, unless you take the pov of a victim who seeks revenge or something. So, like Herman, he’d need a pov character fix to make it work. But the end result I find much less compelling. I’d probably pass. It’s just not that interesting to me.

Evan. Well, he’d be a good film I think. Classic horror. Rich, privileged, conceited bastard. Even worse father. Dead mom, drama as a young man. Becomes a horrific monster and loves it, cooks workers to death in his foundry furnace for no reason except sadism, lots of kidnapping workers and forcing them into slavery for him and then horrific murder. Kinda a torture-porn leaning here if you’re not careful, but it could be a really solid flick. I don’t think any of his victims survive though, so without a retcon, it’d be a pretty damn dark one. You could have any number of pov characters that just end up burned to death, or beaten to death, or buried alive and suffocated or starved, crushed to death. You could follow Evan and just be overwhelmed with horror and disgust for the person he becomes. But it works better than some of the other dark horror options, so I’d say it has potential. Especially as a lead-in to DbD, because then it works better as a storyline, because it isn’t totally over.

Hope you enjoyed this! Again though, a lot of these could make nice movies, but I think like 45 minute episode TV show for DbD would be ideal, and they’d all make /phenomenal/ backstory short films. Even the ones that really don’t lend to standalone feature.

#ask #Anonymous #dead by daylight #dbd #long post

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dem-cp-hoes · 4 years

Note

Idk if you do platonic stuff but,like,hcs of a proxy!reader that’s pretty young(around 14) that kind of acts like a little sister to the other proxies?

When Slender came back to the mansion one day with what they could describe to be a kid, everyone was a little taken aback.

Even more so when he told them that she would become a proxy

They could understand why a child would be here, Sally was an example enough

But Sally didn't kill because she was still a kid, much like the 14 year old staring at them right now

What kind of murderous aura or mission worthy skills Slender saw in her that he had to recruit her

Living in the mansion while being a killer/demon etc., and working as a proxy are very different things

The others kill because they are either insane or can't help it, but proxies are supposed to be more put together because essentially they are soldiers

Nonetheless, they take the girl, Y/n they later learn, in and show her the ropes

Still, none of them can get past the fact that Y/n is kid, clearly not insane judging by the way she is acting

Masky was nonchalant about it at first. He has to do his job and that's it

That's what he tells himself

But he can't help it when he sees Y/n's glossy eyes, crying obviously, when he calls her down for training

He reaches out before he can stop himself and asks her what's wrong

She misses her mom, of course she does he thinks, what kid doesn't and this time he doesn't give it too much of a thought before hugging her

It's so unlike him but he feels it's the right thing to do

Hoodie kept his distance for some time, only interacting with the her when he had to, but she soon warmed her way into his heart

The mission he came back from was rough one, kind of personal and he really didn't feel like being around other people, so he locked himself away in his room

Hoodie wasn't much a social man to begin with so no one was concerned when he wasn't down for dinner

No one but the youngest addition to their little team

With a newfound determination whe filled a plate with food and approached his room

Y/n knocked once and said "I brought you some food.... I'll leave it here....just know that you can talk to me if you want to..." and left

It wasn't much but it was something, and for Hoodie something was enough

Toby formed an attachment to the girl easily

Her presence here hit too close to home

She reminded him of Lyra in a way, she was kind and patient

The most recent incident was proof of that

They were talking in the living room, going over training, when his ticks started getting worse

He stuttered more, and when he stuttered he became angry, and when he became angry his ticks became more frequent

Y/n could see how frustrated and probably embarrassed he was so she did the only thing that came to mind

She gently grabbed his arm, made eye contact and smiled

"It's okay" she said, "Why don't you take a breath a start over?"

Toby was stunned. No one ever helped him calm down before, usually they'd tell him to shut up

He felt bad. She didn't belong in such a bad place

But he couldn't change that so he promised to himself that he'll make sure to protect her

He couldn't protect his sister before, he'll not make the same mistake with this one

They all come to an agreement to protect her as efficiently as possible

Her safety comes first, and that's the only thing they can 100% agree on

From then on she officially becomes their little sister

Poking fun at her, helping her and taking the roles of overprotective brothers come as easily as breathing to all three

Y/n is witty and it's always fun to hear the comebacks she says to Masky

Hoodie has videos

She steals their clothes all the time

She thinks they don't notice because she's sneaky

They absolutely do notice, she's not sneaky at all

No, you can't point it out, you'll upset her

They are ready to take on a mf if she so much as frowns

They spoil her like crazy

"Look Jeff, just because we do the shopping that doesn't mean we'll get all the shit you want, only the essentials. So no pop tarts for you."

"Anyway, here's the 5 different flavor marshmallows you wanted Y/n, it may have taken us searching in 3 different stores but we found them"

"What in the shit..." -Jeff

Overall, they love her very much and will do anything to make her happy

14/10 good brothers👌😌

#Creepypasta #Creepypasta headcanon #Masky #Hoodie #Ticci Toby #Sister!reader

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evandearest · 4 years

Text

“if he’s a serial killer, then what’s the worst that could happen to a girl who’s already hurt?” // james march

Request: Hi! If it's alright could I request a James March x reader where she comes to the hotel sobbing and absolutely drenched from the rain with like a fistful of money. So she gets a room and goes to the bar and drinks a bunch and spills to the bar tender that her husband hit her or cheated on her or something and James overhears and he's just super sweet and comforts the reader, maybe they fall in love and he doesn't want her to find out about him being dead/a murder?? (◕‿◕✿)

Warnings: maybe language? murder, mentions of serial killers, graphic content, mentions of abuse, mentions of toxic relationship, alcohol

Notes: literally so much fun to write! feedback is always appreciated :)

title inspired by “happiness is a butterfly” by lana del rey.

Main Masterlist

You loved the rain. Especially when it was pouring. It was so comforting, to hear the rain pitter-patter on the roof while you stayed curled up inside with a cup of something warm.

But not tonight. No, tonight was possibly the worst night of your life. Not only did you get in a horrible fight with your husband, but now you were stranded on the streets of L.A., drenched from head to toe from the pouring rain, with no place to turn.

You could hardly see the neon sign that read “Cortez” in the fog, but luckily you managed to spot it. Thank God, a hotel. You silently prayed that it was cheap; who knew where you would go if it wasn’t.

You suddenly felt tears well in your eyes. Why did this have to happen to you, of all people? What did you do to deserve this? And your husband, what were you going to do about him? You didn’t want to stay with him, that you were sure about.

A quiet sob wracked your body as you entered the doors of the hotel, hugging yourself tightly. You gasped quietly at the expensive, old-fashioned look of the hotel. Oh no, you thought, it was totally going to be expensive.

You cursed at the wet clothes clinging to your body; the reason you were shivering violently. You approached the front desk, noticing an older woman staring at you.

“Hello,” you greeted, your voice coming out scratchy. You tried to clear your throat, but even then it didn’t do much for you.

“Hey,” the elder woman said, her eyes scanning you, almost in judgement. “What can I do for you?”

“Uhm,” You said, digging through your pockets. You found what you were looking for, pulling out a wad of money. You quickly tried to straighten the bills out, fumbling under her intense gaze, and the cold feeling swallowing your entire body. You counted the bills before meeting her eyes again.

“How much for a room?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowing as you shivered some more. The woman raised her eyebrows.

“Much more than what you have,” She grumbled, eyeing the money you were currently grasping. What was her problem?

“What do we have here?” A voice startled you, and you immediately turned to the source, on high alert. What you saw surprised you; a beautiful woman dressed in diva-like clothing.

“Um, I’m just looking for the cheapest room you have,” you said, biting your lip. You felt tears begin to form in your eyes again, your frustration taking over your self-control.

“Oh, Iris,” the new woman said in a scolding tone to the grumpy lady. “Look at this poor girl! Why would you make her pay for a room?” Iris scoffed, and disappeared into the back room. The nice woman turned to you.

“Don’t worry about it, honey,” she said, smiling softly at you. “I’ll get you a room, on me.”

“Oh, no that—“

“I insist,” she interjected, grabbing your hand and squeezing comfortingly. You felt another wave of emotion come over you, and quickly wiped your tears.

The woman, whom you learned was named Liz, guided you to a room. She gave you clothes to change into, even though you insisted she didn’t have to. You eventually accepted gratefully, amazed at how kind the woman was.

You took a shower and changed before making your way down to the bar, which was mostly empty. You sat down on one of the stools, smiling when you saw that Liz was the bartender.

“Want anything to take the edge off, honey?” she asked you, looking down at you softly.

“Uh,” you thought for a moment, ”do you have wine?”

“That all you want?” Liz asked in amusement.

You looked down at your lap sheepishly. “I don’t drink much.”

“Alright, I got ya something,” Liz said, laughing lightly. You nodded, smiling the best you could. You could still feel the emotional turmoil weighing down on you.

When you thought back on it, you honestly couldn’t believe what had happened. You’d never had the courage to storm out like that. But then again, your husband had never gotten physical.

Your hand traveled up to your throat, which was still sore from being gripped so tightly. You almost couldn’t remember what had led to him choking you. You could distinctly remember him yelling at you drunkenly, and you saying that you were going to leave. The next thing you knew, your back was against the wall, and his hand was around your throat. It was all a blur after that. All you knew was that you managed to get away from him. That was all that mattered.

Liz set a glass down in front of you, shifting your attention to her rather than your thoughts. Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at the unknown liquid. A certain impulse lead you to downing the whole glass.

Your fingers grasped the cold glass, your face scrunching up at the subtle but apparent burn in your throat. It seemed as if immediately your mind started to get fuzzy, whatever self control you had left slipping away. Your eyes moved to Liz, who was watching you with a smirk.

“Man, this stuff is strong,” you mumbled, licking your lips, the taste of alcohol lingering on your taste buds.

Liz chuckled, leaning over on the bar next to you. She shook her head, “No, you’re just a lightweight, hun.” You coughed, nodding.

It was silent for a moment. It seemed your drunken mind couldn’t handle that, because in just a few minutes you were crying and spilling all the night’s events to Liz without a second thought. It felt nice, though. Even sober you would admit that Liz was a great listener.

“Oh, honey,” Liz said, looking down at you with a pout. “You can’t let him do that to you!” She exclaimed.

“I’ve tried,” you sighed, burying your head in your hands. “Nothing ever works, no matter what I do. He’s inescapable. I’ll never be free from him.” Liz looked down at you, her eyebrows creased in deep concern.

“Anyone can gain freedom if they desire it so much.”

The voice startled you, making you slowly spin around in your chair to see just who such an odd voice could belong to. Your hazy eyes met dark brown. His stare was intense, so intense you could feel your arms prickle with goosebumps. Or maybe it wasn’t his gaze, maybe it was simply his presence. His steps were slow paced as he began decreasing the distance between the two of you.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at the man. Your drunken mind didn’t even hardly process his clothes, his accent, and everything about him that screamed long ago. You were too busy trying to process his words, make sense of what he just said.

“Hello, darling,” he said, a charming grin appearing on his face. Darling? Was he flirting with you? You frowned, your drunken thoughts clouding your judgement.

“Who are you?” You shot at him, immediately cringing at your words. “Sorry,” You said sheepishly, “I didn’t mean to sound rude, I’m not used to drinking.” Oh God, you thought, now you were saying too much.

But the man chuckled. “Nonsense, dear,” He shushed you, smiling at you softly. “It seems to me you’ve had a rough night.”

“Now that’s an understatement,” you said, giggling a little. You were very aware that you were drunk, and making a fool of yourself in front of a handsome man. But did it really matter?

The man laughed a little at you, his eyes softening around the edges as he stared at you. He offered you a hand, “James Patrick March.”

You smiled, grabbing his hand softly. “{Y/N}.” His lips pressed against the back of your hand, making tingles shooting up your spine. You giggled again, despite yourself.

“You’re quite a lovely woman to be at a bar alone.” He slid into the seat next to you.

“And you’re quite a smooth talker, Mr. March,” you said, giving him a playful glare. He chuckled again.

“And I believe your quite... uh, drunk, is it?” He squinted his eyes in thought, then nodded. “Yes, dear, you’re quite intoxicated.”

You sighed. “Yeah, I know.” In that moment, it seemed that your memories of the night came back to haunt you once again. The mood seemed to go completely sour.

“Ah, yes,” James said, watching you intensely. “You’ve just endured a quite dramatic event, darling, no one would necessarily blame you.”

You nodded, your lips forming a straight line. A sudden tiredness had weighed down on you, a yawn escaping your slightly puffed lips.

You tried to stand, not expecting your knees to give out underneath you. The last thing you remembered before falling into darkness was James’ face, and a soft bed.

↠ ↠ ↠ ↠

It’d been nearly three months since you had escaped your ex-husband. It seemed that ever since you had walked into the Hotel Cortez and met James March, your life had taken a whole different turn, for the better. It seemed that James had been the exit to freedom that you had prayed so desperately for.

For all the months since you had met James, your life had been what your wildest dreams were made of. A faithful lover, who you knew truly loved you, life in extravagance, and even amazing friends, like Liz and Sally. Even Iris came around. Your husband never even came looking at the hotel for you. You didn’t know where he was, neither did you care. The hotel itself seemed to just make you happy. Sure, you’d found out pretty quickly that there were some odd residents lurking around in the halls. But it wasn’t all that bad. Truly, it was amazing... that is, until you found out that James was hiding something from you.

You’d known for a while. It was obvious. He would disappear at random times of the night, and wouldn’t return until early morning, or sometimes it would even be full days where he’d be missing. You’d have to be a fool not to notice. Not to mention that every time you brought it up, he dismissed you with an excuse. And even then, you’d already been in a relationship with a liar. You knew the signs. Maybe it was good, maybe it was bad. Either way, you had to find out what he was hiding. You promised yourself you wouldn’t go through this again, even if you trusted James.

You’d came up with a plan. One night, when he slipped out, you’d follow him. You’d see exactly where he went at such an early hour, and more importantly, what he did. You’d just have to be sneaky.

You’d felt him get out of the bed. Sure, you’d been mostly asleep, but you were all too familiar to the feeling of your lover slipping out. You waited a few moments before quietly slipping out of bed, throwing on a robe, and tip-toeing after him.

You followed him through numerous halls, even figured out which floor he traveled to on the elevator. His destination was a room on the seventh floor. It seemed so odd to you, so eerily disturbing. What could he be doing at such an early hour... He had to be cheating, you decided.

You waited awhile, thinking about how you were going to approach the situation. What were you going to say to him? What would his reaction be? ...Were you ready to face the truth? You sighed, taking a deep breath. Man up, you thought. You’ve done this before, you can do it again. And with a deep breath, you opened the door.

You never could’ve been prepared for what you saw. The possibility never crossed your mind, it was never even a thought.

James scrambled when he saw you. You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t do anything. There was so much blood..

“O-oh, darling, this-“ he stuttered. He didn’t know what to say. Neither did you.

“W-Who,” You began, your eyebrows furrowing as you pointed at the obviously dead man on the floor. “w-who—who was he?” You couldn’t breathe, your voice thick with emotion.

James eyes grew wide, his silence further pushing you. “Who was he?!” You shouted, your shaking hands reaching in front of you as you slowly approached the dead corpse.

“A—a businessman,” James answered, his eyes studying your reaction. “You disapprove?” He asked, slightly cringing at what was to come.

“Do I—“ your eyes widened, but you quickly closed them, and took a deep breath. Once you were slightly more calm, you opened your eyes to meet his dark brown ones. “What is going on here?”

“I, uh...” James was at a loss. For the first time ever, you had seen James speechless.

“Do you—do you do this every time you leave?” You questioned him. You stared at him intently, your ragged breathing increasing more and more as the time passed.

James stood hesitant for a moment, before nodding. “It’s a... hobby?” He said, his eyebrows raising at you nervously.

You staggered back a step, suddenly losing your balance. James instinctively reached out for you, but you quickly flinched away. His eyes traveled up to yours, sadness and guilt clouding them.

“I-I’m sorry,” you said, hesitantly grabbing his hand. Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. Your eyes met his, tears beginning to stain your face. “I...” You thought for a moment, before squeezing his hand. “I just need some time to think about this.”

“I-“ James choked out, tears welling up in his eyes. Your own eyes widened. You’d never seen James cry. “I understand.”

Your heart dropped. Even though you’d just found out that he was a murderer, possibly a serial killer, it didn’t mean that you could just turn off your feelings for him. You still loved him, more than anything you’d ever loved. You still felt insanely safe around him. You instinctively reached for him, pulling his body into yours.

You stood on your tiptoes as your head rested on his shoulder. His arms circled around your waist, holding you tightly. His body seemed to relax in your embrace.

“You’re still...” you whispered, silent tears dripping onto his blood-stained shirt, “you’re still you, right?” James tensed again, but nodded against your shoulder.

“Of course, darling,” he whispered back, his voice slightly breaking. He was so close to your ear that you swore you could hear his every breath.

His voice still sent shivers down your spine. His touch still made you weak in the knees. His words still warmed you up inside. He still had that dark hair that you loved so much. He was still the weirdly adorable, stubborn, emotional man that you fell in love with.

He was still your James.

You hugged him tighter.

“We’ll figure it out,” you whispered.

Tags: @evanpeters-petermaximoff @mavalenovaninagavi @justanotherahsfan @riotsqrrrrl @ahsx97 @gretaahs @bish-ima-clown

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neerasrealm · 4 years

Text

Porridge and Panic

Fun fact, this is a complete rewrite of my first ever creepypasta fanfic. This story focuses on Slender and EJ meeting for the first time, and is based on my hc that EJ formerly worked for Zalgo. Warning for some swearing and jokes about murder if you’re not into that.

Word count: 2000

"Just go do this job for me," Zalgo had said. "It's only a small gathering, you can take it." He'd said.

That "small gathering" ended up being a CULT MEETING with TWENTY SEVEN PEOPLE.

Fighting off twenty seven people at once is not an easy task. Even if you're a demon like Eyeless Jack.

Sure he’s strong, but he's not a fighter. He went to college to be a doctor for god's sake! And he's definitely not immune to knives. Being stabbed hurts. Like- a lot. A lot a lot. But that's not important. What is important is getting away from the murder scene. He'd managed to find a first aid kit earlier and patch himself up, thank god. What he really needed now was rest. Of course, he couldn't do that. He'd just killed twenty seven people. He'd managed to limp into the nearby woods and-

"Shit!"

Aaand fall over a tree root. Great job. With a groan he rolled onto his stomach, burying his face, or rather his mask, into the cool, damp grass. He curled his hands into fists, gripping the grass. It felt soft and cold, which was nice, considering his pounding head.

He closed his eyes, or rather his eyelids- he didn't have eyes, not anymore- and proceeded to doze off to sleep in the grass.

When he awoke, he wasn't in the grass anymore. He grunted and rubbed his face against the soft pillow. A pillow- he was in a bed. He relaxed. Zalgo must've found him, or maybe Jason had been sent to grab him. He was fully prepared to fall asleep again when he realized something.

It was quiet. Far, far too quiet. Zalgo's realm always had some kind of noise in the distance, be it wailing, grinding or even screaming, but this room? Completely quiet. Come to think of it- the smell of sulfur wasn't present either.

Just to confirm Jack's suspicions, a bird chirped outside. The only birds found in Zalgo's realm were the mechanical ones Jason made, or leftover KFC.

He was about to open his eyes when he heard the door to the room open. He kept them closed, not wanting the person to know he was awake. Not yet.

He heard them walk closer and place something down on a nearby surface. He could smell something- it took him a few moments to recognize the smell. Porridge. God he'd loved the stuff growing up-

Maybe it was his mom that had put him here. That'd be a twist.

"‘Ow is 'e doin'?"

WELL THAT'S A VOICE HE WASN'T EXPECTING- it had an extraordinarily thick cockney accent, and was deep and gravelly. The voice's owner was surely intimidating to look at. Jack was suddenly glad he'd decided to play dead- or well- unconscious.

"He's still asleep." The second voice was closer to his bed, and much softer in tone. The voice's owner seemed kind, and friendly. These two were a stark contrast, it seemed. "He's either very smart or someone was with him. His wounds were all patched up when you brought him in."

"Ya fink 'e 'as a frien'?" The cockney voice got closer. Oh, the scary one had found him? So clearly they at least didn't plan to hurt him. Maybe.

"Perhaps. We'll return him home, if he has one." A hand ran through his brown hair. The touch was gentle, far more gentle than Jack was used to.

"Alrigh'." He felt someone sit on the end of the bed. "Sally was askin' fer 'im, worried abou' 'im."

"Why am I not surprised?" Jack could hear the smile in the kind one's voice. "She's a good girl…"

"Yeh." The person sitting on the bed, presumably the intimidating one, shifted where they sat. "I 'ope 'e's alrigh' too. 'E's only a kiddo."

"He's fully grown, Jack." Jack! The intimidating one had a name! And- it was the same as his. Heh. What a coincidence.

"Everyone's a basin a' gravy when ye're two 'undred." Jack, the other Jack, replied with a tone of amusement. What- what the fuck does that mean- basin of...gravy? Two hundred? What?

"I hate how well I understand you." The other person replied bluntly.

"Aw no, ye loooove me."

"...If I find out our guest heard you say that you'll be in big trouble." The other was firm now, but there was fondness in their voice.

"Oh will I now~?" The cockney Jack replied before Eyeless Jack heard a light slapping noise. "Ow-!" Cockney Jack laughed lightly and stood up off the bed. "Alrigh', alrigh', I'll stop." He could hear the cheesy grin in the other Jack's voice. "Call me if ya need me, ya 'ear?"

"I will."

Once he heard the door close Jack listened intently for the other person. They didn't seem to be moving. Maybe they-

A hand came down and ran through his hair again. Despite himself, Jack relaxed. He wasn't used to being touched so- gently, but he loved it. He felt safe, strangely. Slowly, he opened his eyes and took in the room. He was indeed on a bed. On the bedside table in front of him was a clock, a glass of...something, he wasn't sure due to his vision being completely black and white, and the person- Jack could only see their legs, but they were wearing a frilly apron.

"Hello?" The person said. Their hand withdrew from his hair. "Are you awake?"

Jack grunted and stretched, trying to wake up his aching body. He rolled himself onto his back and sat up. The person by the bed placed pillows behind him to rest against.

"How do you feel?" The person asked. Jack blinked and finally looked up at him. Then froze. In an instant all the trust he'd built for this person was replaced with utter terror.

He knew them, or rather him, in an instant. White skin, no face, tall- well he was actually far shorter than Jack had expected but maybe that was because he was a shapeshifter and the room wasn't tall enough but still! He knew him.

Slenderman. Zalgo's biggest nemesis. The one Jack had been told to attack on sight, should he ever encounter him. He'd heard stories of Slender. About his 'home', the children he kept prisoner, his lackey Laughing Ja- that was the cockney voice!

Which meant Jack was in Slender's home. With the rest of his proxies. And if Slender, or anyone else for that matter, learned that he worked for Zalgo, he'd be dead. Immediately. Super dead. Deader than a dinosaur.

"Fuck-" was the only word Jack could say. His voice was hoarse and full of the terror he should probably be hiding.

Slender seemed caught off guard for a moment. Suppressing the instinct to scold Jack for that, he cleared his throat. "I mean you no harm," he said. "I- realise my appearance may be unsettling but I assure you I don't have any ill intentions."

Jack gulped. That was at least a little reassuring, knowing Slender didn't intend to hurt him for now. Slender tilted his head.

"Might I ask for your name...?" He asked softly.

Jack panicked for a moment. His name could potentially have it click that he was Zalgo's minion right? He realised Slender was still watching him. "Greg." He blurted out of panic. Ah, his old roommate, the perfect alias.

Fucking hell he's going to die here isn't he?

"Greg, I see," Slender seemed to smile despite his lack of a face. He grabbed a tray Jack hadn't noticed before from the bedside table. The bowl and glass were on the tray, which had legs that fell down when Slender lifted it. The tray was gently placed over Jack's lap. "I'm sure you're probably hungry, so I made you some porridge. Unless you'd rather something else?"

Jack was not about to make any requests. He felt as if any word he spoke would give away his identity. He shook his head. Slender nodded.

"Well you eat up, I'll be back in a minute, alright? Do you need anything?" The faceless cryptid asked. He was nice, almost too nice, and it unsettled Jack even more. He shook his head again and watched Slender leave.

Immediately Jack looked at the window in the room. An escape! He quickly moved the tray and tried to climb out of the bed, only to wince in pain the second he put pressure on his leg. Fuck, of course he'd been stabbed in the calf, of course he had! He limped weakly to the window and-

He was on the second floor, at least. There was only a drop to meet him. And he was definitely in no condition to jump out a window. "This is bad, this is bad, this is bad-" he buried his face in his hands, panicking. Too injured to escape via window, on thin, thin ice with Slender…

And the smell of porridge was too good to dismiss. Resignedly, he limped back to the bed and grabbed the glass and took a couple gulps from it. Good old fashioned water. Good to know. He grabbed the bowl of porridge and ate a spoonful. Then winced.

His tastebuds had long since been altered along with the rest of his body. Anything that wasn't meat tasted way different than it should've. The porridge tasted way blander than it already was, and the small hints of honey were more tangy than sweet.

He still ate the entire thing within two minutes though because he was starving. Then again he was always hungry.

Just as he was drinking down the rest of the water, Slender opened the door again. He'd removed his apron now and was looking...oddly casual. He wore a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, which was odd considering Jack had been told the man practically lived in a suit.

"Ah, you've finished." Slender seemed pleased. He moved towards the bed and sat on the edge of it. "Can I get you anything else?" He asked, looking at Jack, who shook his head. "Alright," Slender adjusted his tie. "I'd like to ask you a few things, Greg, if that's alright."

Jack hesitated for a moment before answering. "Go ahead."

"How did you get injured?"

Okay, right off the bat he has to answer a question that'll require a teeny lie. "Got into a fight. People don't really uh- like seeing demons around their home y'know-" that was mostly the truth! He did get into a fight, and those people definitely didn't like seeing him!

"That's what you are then, a demon?"

"Y-Yes, I uh- I'm not evil if that's what you're thinking. I don't really like fights and stuff-" I mean- it's true he doesn't like fights, and Jack wouldn't describe himself as malicious. He only killed people when Zalgo told him to or when they wouldn't just quietly succumb to a concussion and allow their kidney to be stolen. He wasn't an evil person.

"I understand," Slender seemed to smile. "You seem like a good person."

Hah. Yeah. Good person. Definitely not the reincarnation of a godlike demon that works for another godlike demon.

"And how old are you?"

"Uh- twenty one, I think. I could be off but- y'know-"

"Ah, I see." Slender seemed almost pleased for some reason. "Do you have a home?" He asked.

"Yeah- kinda I- have a place to go to but I wander a lot." Jack shifted uncomfortably at the question.

"I see." Slender seemed thoughtful for a few moments. "Is there anything you need?" He asked for what must've been the third time. Jack, again, shook his head.

"I think I just need rest." He said. Slender nodded and stood up, grabbing the tray from beside Jack.

"Alright," he said softly. "Call if you need me alright?"

"I will." Jack replied. With that Slender left the room. Jack slumped against the pillows behind him and sighed out. "Fucking hell…"

#creepypasta #writing #eyeless jack #slenderman #slender mansion #laughing jack #creepypasta fanfiction

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theverybestpencilsoftuscaloosa · 4 years

Text

Hey, cool, narrative writing!

Or, to be more explicative, I’m finally posting something I wrote. It’s a piece of Discworld fanfiction, based off of a prompt by the tremendous and inimitable @obsle! Starring Commander Vimes and Captain Angua, it’s a lovely little piece (if I may say so) about the succession of leadership in the Watch. If you read it already in the Exchange, do consider giving it a second blush -- now it has footnotes!

It was a fine Ankh-Morpork summer day. The flies buzzed, the river limped, and the sun sat in the sky like a sticky butterscotch disc freshly dropped from a child’s mouth. From time to time, a breeze dared to disturb the oppressive heat before being clubbed down again. It was the sort of day a copper treasured and despised: hot enough to keep any would-be troublemakers skulking indoors, leaving the city’s lawful protectors to dutifully and honourably swelter in their breastplates where they stood.

Captain Angua was not currently sweltering, although it was a near thing. She was stood in the corner of Commander Vimes’ office, staring carefully at the opposite wall while she listened to Inspector A.E. Pessimal’s weekly report. It was... a thing of beauty, really, if only in the eye of a very particular beholder.*

*Specifically, one who was keenly aware of the intricacies of all special kinds of arithmetic used to hide money from the authorities, and who also was keen on the authorities.

“...whereupon, Mister Vimes, I pulled out my copy of Tax Regulatory Document Three Cee Aye, and asked him if he could point out the differences from his copy! Which, of course, he could, on account of having moved a decimal two places over!! He thereupon attempted to fox me, Mister Vimes, by pulling out a crossbow, whereupon I…”

It was remarkable. The man was full of coppering; in fact he was overfull. You simply had to wonder where it all fit: the sheer civic pride and dogged determination of at least 0.6 Carrots, compressed down into a man only a few inches taller and a few feet thinner than a dwarf. His reputation preceded him all through the halls of finance unsanctioned by the law, and more pressingly, through the ones that were for now but very well might not be if A.E. Pessimal were to set one size-six-boot-clad foot inside. His persistence had even earned him a nickname: the Terrier’s terrier. Or, if people were feeling particularly brave, two drinks down in the neat grey bars frequented by the neat grey men of the Accountant’s Guild: the second bitch in the Watch.

Solidarity, Angua thought, came sometimes from the strangest places.

“...Thereupon which I wrote him a receipt for his crossbow, fragments A through Q, and his teeth, items A through E, and Constable Detritus escorted him to the Cable Street watch house, sir!” Inspector Pessimal came to a neat stop, nearly vibrating with enthusiasm, like a knife thrown hard at a wall.

His Grace, The Duke of Ankh, Commander Sir Samuel Vimes sat behind his desk, solid composure ever so slightly cracked like a wall with a knife thrown hard at it. For a brief moment his mouth opened, soundless, and then just as A.E. leaned forward to begin again Vimes clapped a hand down on the desk sharply.

“Right! Well. Thank you for the report, Special Inspector. Very good stuff, er -- this was… Boggis’ man? Mr. Lipwig’s?”

“No, sir. Mr. Lipwig is always very honest with his accounts.” Vimes’ lip twitched at that, and Captain Angua recalled one of his little maxims, that some men were too honest to trust -- but A.E. Pessimal shook his head. “He was employed indirectly by Lord Rust, Mister Vimes.”

A glint came to the commander’s eye. “Ah. Ah, yes. One of Ronnie’s? Well, then. Leave me the written report, Special Inspector, there’s a good chap…”

Special Inspector Pessimal slid the report across the desk (with some difficulty, as it was about four inches high) and then stood, firing off a salute so smart it had creases. Commander Vimes nodded in response, and A.E. turned on his heel and strode out of the office.

Vimes left it about half a minute for the special inspector’s footsteps to recede down the stairs before slumping into his chair with a deep sigh. Angua held her gaze steady on the opposite wall, face intentionally left blank. There was another half-minute or so of silence, and then Vimes leaned forward, resting his elbows on the scarred and pitted desk.

“Eager little fellow, isn’t he?”

Angua coughed. “You hired him for a reason, right, sir?”

“Hm.” Vimes grinned. “Damn right, Captain.” He sat up, and slapped the stack of papers. “One of Lord Rust’s boys, eh? The little bastards have been running rings around us. And then in walks Mister Pessimal -” He snorted. “Vetinari told me his clerks had nothing on the man. Vetinari! And his clerks keep their books so tight you couldn’t slip a wasp’s pri-- whisker inside! Our Mister Pessimal’s a valuable one, isn’t he?”

“If you say so, Commander.”

Vimes’ gaze fell on Angua. “Something wrong, Captain?”

“Not at all, Commander.” Angua’s eyes held steady, examining the wall behind Vimes as if it were being held suspect for murder. “Just wondering why you called me in to talk.”

And, in her head: I didn’t slip the garlic into Um’s* locker, if that’s what this is about. I’m not a sergeant anymore, and even when I was I didn’t go in for that sort of thing. Not to mention Sally would have some serious words with me if I did, and I’m not stupid, commander; I’m not looking for a fight with a vampire, who also happens to be a close friend!

*Umberto Carlislo del Sylvanius Tenebrum Vittorio di Corlusca Maggitorio Arluxa von Conveyans, a recent Watch recruit and vampire. Being barely of-age for a vampire (34), he hadn’t developed a full page of names yet, but he had still been ruthlessly nicknamed mere moments after taking the oath.

A smaller, quieter, and… hairier voice added: Even though I would win.

“Am I getting old, Angua?” Vimes asked thoughtfully.

Angua’s calm cracked slightly, but decisively. An eyebrow snapped up. Vimes thoughtfully declined to notice.

“...Old, sir?”

Vimes’ eyes stayed fixed on the door as he stepped around his desk, and Angua’s nose twitched. It was an embarrassing habit, but, well, the instincts never really left you. In this case, she hardly needed it. She’d known Commander Vimes for years now. It was quite easy to see when he was embarrassed.

“If I may, Mister Vimes… why are you asking me?” Angua paused. “I mean, I haven’t -- there are some who’ve been here longer --”

“Like who?” Vimes asked. “Fred? Nobby? Carrot?”

Angua considered the list. Fred Colon had, a short few months ago, received the penultimate promotion, as it were: from deskbody to homebody. He still came round the station almost every day -- but less often now than when he’d first retired; in fact, he’d slept at his old desk the first few nights, and right now she couldn’t recall seeing him in a day and a half. After decades of marriage he and Mrs. Colon were getting to know one another, which by all accounts was proceeding better than expected. But… no, probably not Fred. If anything, he’d have been asking Mister Vimes for tips on how to acquaint oneself with civilian life. At least Sybil made sure Vimes took a day off every month or two.

And Nobby… well, the thing about Nobby was… well, he… he just…

No. Not Nobby.

And that left…

“You could talk to Carrot, Mister Vimes,” Angua suggested.

Vimes shook his head slowly. “No. Not him. Captain Carrot’s a good man- er, dwarf- er, copper. But you know what he’d say, don’t you?”

Angua considered this. Bit by bit, she came to the realization that she did. Vimes could ask Carrot what he thought, and he’d get an answer -- well-considered, gently phrased, encouraging and pleasant. A classic Carrot. It would be just what he wanted to hear. To a man like Sam Vimes, that was always the last thing he wanted to hear.

“So… you’d like my honest opinion, sir?”

“Well, I don’t want you lying to your commander, Captain.”

Angua considered it. She gave refusal a moment’s thought, but… but this was Sam Vimes. The same Sam Vimes who hated undead, everyone knew, but had chanced on her as the first in the Watch. The Sam Vimes who had followed her to Klatch with Carrot (although technically all three of them had simply been following the same suspect at wildly varying distances). The same Sam Vimes who had faced down a werewolf -- her brother -- and made it his, er…

Well. It was Sam Vimes.

Angua looked at her commanding officer, Sam Vimes, and for a moment peered past the armor, the helmet, the face like granite - like thunder - like a really disgruntled face. She narrowed her eyes and looked clear through to the greying hair which had, in point of fact, largely greyed almost to white, and to the muscles which weren’t… smaller, no, but a good deal wirier, and to the granite face, which seemed, if you looked at it just right, like there might be the inklings of a crack…

And, oh, hell, nothing for it. Angua closed her eyes and sniffed.

Almost immediately, her muscles tensed to spring.

She restrained them, hardly registering more than a twitch. But… damn! It had been months since she’d even had a thought like that. It was embarrassing. Honestly, it was worse than that, because this was Sam, but the wolf didn’t care; the wolf didn’t think much of a reasonable explanation for why its behavior was unreasonable, or even think much at all. The wolf just smelled (Angua mentally cursed herself for even thinking it) weakness.

With only a mild effort, Angua opened her eyes and smiled with a mostly appropriate amount of tooth. Vimes was leaning against his desk. He met her gaze evenly, and Angua suddenly was doubly glad for her restraint. Vimes wouldn’t raise a hand to one of his men, everyone knew. There was a respect that ran two ways, and that was the foundation of the Watch.

It was only that the wolf hardly had any respect at all, and Angua had personally seen what remained of the last werewolf who jumped Sam Vimes.

Vimes’ eyes softened, and he stepped forward. “There, er…” He trailed off, and Angua saw him searching for what passed between coppers as tact. “There aren’t many old wolves, are there?”

Angua shrugged. “Wolves? Yes. They take care of their own. For the most part, when the leader starts to… slow down, one of the younger ones will step up and face him. It’s a sort of test, you see. If the old one wins, the challenger isn’t ready. If he loses, the young one becomes the leader. Werewolves are different.”

“How so?”

“Well, sir, I suppose in a way you could say the leader becomes the young one.”

“Gods!”

“Sorry, sir.” Angua inclined her head deferentially. “No one said werewolves were nice.”

“No,” Vimes agreed. “But no one said coppers were either.”

“Oh?” said Angua. You eat each other when you start getting up in years? She didn’t say.

“Nothing like what you said, only… Well. Used to be you didn’t retire. Maybe you run out your luck on patrol. If you don’t… you get a little older, you slow down, and one day the lads come round with a gold watch and say good job sir, you made it!” Vimes’ brow knitted itself closer. “And then the next day… the next day you come in, just to keep an eye on things, and the day after that, and the day after that too, and then one day you don’t come in at all, and if you’re lucky one of the lads notices and they have you in the ground before too long.

Vimes paused. Then his eyes focused on Angua. He shook his head, as if to dislodge the dark and sticky waters of memory, and cleared his throat. “‘Course, it’s not like that nowadays. I mean, look at Fred. If he can retire, anyone can, right?”

Angua nodded. “Makes sense to me, sir.”

After a moment, when it became clear Vimes was offering no response, she stepped forward. “Something else on your mind, Mister Vimes?”

He sighed. He stepped around his desk again to the window, leaning on the windowsill to look out over the yard. “Yes. I suppose so. It’s, well… Fred, of course, was irreplaceable, but there are other sergeants. Me, though… Someone’s going to have to step up, and, well, I’ve been thinking, and I suppose it’s about time I told my successor they’re succeeding, isn’t it? I’ve just been looking for the right way.”

And internally Angua thought, I see. He’s going to ask me to tell him, isn’t he? Well, I think I can deal with that… I’ll have to get him away from the watch house, but if I ask him to take the night off for dinner he’ll probably say yes. I wonder if Cheery would…

Vimes coughed. “So,” he asked, “how about it?”

Angua blinked, train of thought suddenly interrupted. “How about what, sir?”

A moment passed. They stared cautiously at each other. Vimes broke first.

“Oh, hell,” he said. “About the job. Will you accept?”

Angua stared at him.

“What?”

Vimes cleared his throat. “Ah… I thought I made it obvious.” He paused. Angua was still staring. “Er… is something the matter, Angua?”

Still staring, Angua shook her head. At last, pulling her jaw back up, she asked “Why?”

Vimes’ head tilted in surprise. “Why? You’re a damn good captain, that’s why. Isn’t that enough?”

“But… but…” Angua searched for the right way to phrase the protest and failed. “But I’m not Carrot, sir!”

“Ah.” Understanding dawned on Vimes’ face. “That’s it, is it? You assumed he’d be the one?”

“Well… I think everyone did, commander!” Angua gestured helplessly. “I mean, no one in the city’s a more enthusiastic copper than him. He knows every law by heart! He asks people if they’re up to anything they shouldn’t be and they tell him! I mean, for gods’ sakes, he’s… he’s…”

The words died on her lips under Vimes’ gaze.

“Go on,” he said. “I know. He’s the king. Right?”

Angua made another vague gesture. “Well. He could be, sir. If he wanted to.” And then, feeling a sudden need to defend him, “Not that he does.”

Vimes sighed. “Angua, can you think of any possible reason I would want the one man everyone agrees is the rightful king in charge of the City Watch?”

“Well… I suppose you might--”

“There isn’t one,” Vimes said firmly. “Carrot is a good captain and a good watchman. People like him. They want to talk to him, even though he’s a copper. They trust him. Even the nobs think he’s all right. And what do people say about me when I’m not around?”

Angua again weighed honesty and kindness.

“Well, sir… they do occasionally say something to the effect of ‘That Vimes, what a complete and utter bastard.’”

“And you know what they say about you?”

Angua pursed her lips.

“Well.” Sam Vimes sighed. “For what it’s worth, Captain…”

“Yes?”

“I think you’re just as much of a bastard as I am.”

“Sir!”

“What?” Vimes raised an eyebrow. “It’s not a bad thing to know, Angua. It’s not a bad thing to be, coming to that. You work a bit different from other people, yes? Nothing wrong with that.” He leaned forward, staring at her intently. “Let me tell you, Captain. The world needs its Carrots, right? That’s what you’re thinking. But it doesn’t only need Carrots. Honest men, good men… smart men and good coppers, yes, but sometimes you need a right bastard.

“It’s like… Like… Like, say someone walks in and reports a stolen cow, right? What do you do first? Look for hoof marks? Start interviewing known cow thieves? Work your way through every farm animal in the city?”

Angua thought about it for a moment.

“Well, Mister Vimes, I think what I’d do is walk down the complainant’s street and see whose house smelled of steak.”

Vimes smiled. “And that’s a commander talking-- Oh, damn.” Vimes jerked back from the window, ducking against the wall.

“Sir?”

“It’s Rust! Damn fool! He hasn’t even hired Slant yet! He can’t have! What the hell’s he doing here?”

“Probably asking about items A through E, Mister Vimes.”

“Not now,” moaned Vimes. “I haven’t even read the damn report yet! Why the hell’s he coming in all half-cocked?”

“Tactically speaking, Mister Vimes? Coming from a position of mutual ill preparation, ignorance always has the advantage.”

That earned a smirk, even as Vimes hazarded a peek out the window into the yard. “Oh, gods, he’s inside…” A moment later, the beginning of a ruckus from below proved him right. Vimes froze.

Then, slowly, he turned to Angua. There was a dangerous glint in his eye.

“Captain,” he said evenly, portioning the syllables out in an almost Vetinarian drawl, “how do you feel about a little test?”

Moments later, Lord Rust burst into the room, accompanied by two burly suited thugs and a badly bruised accountant.

“Vimes!” he hollered. It took until the sound echoed back from the stairwell beyond the open door for him to realize he was incorrect.

“Lord Rust,” Angua said, leaning forward in the commander’s chair. “Can I help you?”

The man’s eyes narrowed, searching his memory for Angua’s identity. He must have come up empty, because there is simply no other way to explain the utterly stupid thing he was about fifteen seconds away from saying.

“Yes,” Lord Rust said in what he probably thought was a snarl, “you can. Stop sitting there and go fetch your commander.”

Angua shrugged. “Can’t help you there, sir.”

Lord Rust stepped forward. The stress of the day was written in his face. “Did you hear me?” He asked in a slightly trembling voice.”

“I think so, sir. Can’t help you. Sorry.”

One refusal was bad enough. Two was too much. Something, some small important tenet of good breeding and nobility, snapped behind Lord Rust’s eyes.

“Listen to me! Listen to me right now! Get out of that chair and go get your master or else you won’t work another day in this city, you bitch!��

The key to a really good snarl is not the set of your jaw, or the way you hold your throat, or the positioning of your lips. It isn’t in the vocal quality or in the breathing. It is definitely not (as Lord Rust seemed to think) about communicating just how long the stick up your bottom is. A really good snarl is genetic.

Angua snarled, and the four men standing before her went white.

“Now then,” she said, once they stopped trembling too hard to hear, “let’s try this again, shouldn’t we? You said you wanted to talk to Mister Vimes, right? Now, would you talk to the commander like that, Lord Rust? Would you?”

Lord Rust’s jaw snapped shut. “N-n-- well, no--”

“Then why did you, you little rat?”

Now Rust froze. The strain showed on his face as mental gears clashed with information that simply did not fit. At last in a halting voice he managed “No… have to speak with Vimes. He’s… he’s the commander.” And, gaining steam: “And I will tell him about that little insult, you --”

“Insult?”

Rust turned slowly. Sam Vimes was standing in the door… unarmored.

“Sorry, Angua. Was just on my way out, realized I almost forgot this.” All eyes followed Vimes as his hand dipped to his belt and removed the truncheon of office. They stayed on the truncheon as he hefted it and tossed it lightly to Angua, who caught it deftly out of the air in one hand. Lord Rust and his accomplices watched as she held it thoughtfully, then placed it on the official stand.

Then she smiled wide.

The door shut with a soft and definite click.

As one, the four men turned to look. Sam Vimes was gone.

Angua was not.

“Now, gentlemen…” She leaned forward. “Shall we talk?”

Down in the kitchen, Sam Vimes fixed himself a cup of tea. He drank it down, nodding genially to the officers passing through, and fixed himself another. Sitting in just the right corner, he could faintly hear voices from upstairs. It was going alright, he thought. It probably would be fine, so long as neither of those hulking suited muscles got stupid enough to put a hand on Angua…

Just as he thought it, he heard a muffled crash.

Well. That was all right, then. The other one would at least know better now…

Crash.

Oh, well. Disappointments are everywhere.

As he sipped his third cup, Vimes listened to Rust vacating the building, complaining reedily all the while, and to the two enforcers being dragged downstairs to the cells for some first aid, and to the twitchy accountant being gently but firmly apprehended by a few of the constables who had read Inspector Pessimal’s report, who were very curious about some things and wondered if he could just come this way, just a few questions…

The paper would be coming soon, Vimes knew. Probably a photographer as well. Rust would already be complaining, and by the time he got home the gossip would have raced around to Sybil, who would have questions of her own,* and he knew Vetinari would have something to say as well. It was probably about time he put his armor back on, picked the truncheon back up, and got to smoothing things over…

*If only as to how fast Lord Rust had run out, and if he still waddled when he was really frightened.

And then from the main office he heard Angua speaking loudly, clearly, and authoritatively: “...threatened him? I’m very sorry to hear that, Miss Cripslock. No, I’m not sure why. Wolf? No, Miss Cripslock, we don’t keep wolves in the watch houses. No, none of them. I believe there’s a regulation against it. No, no thank you. No photographs, please. Um is very particular about his hair, aren’t you, Um? And Sally considers it very undignified, having to be swept up… Yes, thank you for understanding…”

Or maybe, Vimes thought, he’d go for a walk.

#discworld #fanfic #the watch #vimes #angua #hogswatch fan exchange #mine creation

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tommynikkivincemick · 4 years

Text

three way call — part 9

Summary: Tommy Lee and Nikki Sixx find themselves in the frustrating predicament of being infatuated with the same woman. This calls for a competition.

Author’s note: What’s up fuckers, it’s been a minute! Sorry for the long hiatus, but shit’s been fucked! But now I’m back and will hopefully be writing more. This will probably be the last chapter of three way call, but I’ll totally write an epilogue if y’all would like one. Also sorry if I forgot anyone on the tag list, I haven’t been keeping up with requests very well. Sincerest apologies. Enjoy.

Warnings: Language, alcohol, mild violence, the usual.

Over the following weeks, Tommy, Y/N, and Nikki became inseparable and the Terror Twins became the Terror Triplets. The trio would constantly be touching, kissing, cuddling, sitting on top of each other, or excusing themselves to go have sex. They knew how each other member of the throuple liked their coffee and what kind of cigarettes they smoked, how they tossed and turned in bed, their preferred brands of beer, and what toppings they liked on their pizza. Y/N knew that Nikki didn’t think Crown Royal was worth the money as far as whiskeys went and that Tommy preferred sativa over indica because it didn’t make him feel as hazy. Nikki knew that Tommy didn’t like cheap vodka when doing shots because he’d thrown it up so many times before and he knew that when Y/N made the coffee, it somehow tasted better despite being made the exact same way by everybody. Tommy knew that Y/N only used Sally Hansen nail polish and owned every shade of red ever made, or so it seemed, and that Nikki only burned dragon’s blood incense, only from this weird little hole in the wall shop downtown.

To Vince and Mick, the closeness was nauseating. Vince was tired of fourth wheeling in his own home and tired of being kept up all night and some of the morning by “Oh Tommy, oh Nikki, oh Y/N,” and the pounding of the headboard on the wall. The most blissful times were when Y/N was at work or the trio decided to spend the night at her apartment instead. However, when Y/N was away, the boys had begun to play, testing boundaries romantically and in the bedroom at all hours of the day. Even band practice has changed; Nikki with his perfectionist tendencies harped on Vince and Mick as usual but suddenly everything Tommy did was perfect. In Tommy’s eyes everything should be dialed back a bit, unless it was his drumming or Nikki’s bass.

“I’m so sick to death of those three,” Mick said one day while the Twins were visiting their third at work.

“Oh, shut up, you don’t even live with them! They’re so far up each other’s asses, you can’t even tell where one ends and the others begin at this point,” Vince bitched.

“Don’t get me wrong, Y/N is great, and I’m glad they’re all happy, but when it affects the band is when I draw the line.”

“I know! Nikki and Tommy have been skipping practices and they’re god damned lucky all of our gigs have gone smoothly. I mean, hell; Sixx is supposed to be the leader of this band and who was it that had to call back that Zutaut guy about scheduling a meeting with those record exec guys? Fucking me! I mean, we call Nikki the leader, we call Y/N our manager, and Tommy’s the second in command, so they need to start fucking acting like it if we’re gonna score this record deal.”

“Should we break them up?” Mick asked, a devious sparkle in his eye.

“Absolutely not. Good material has been flowing from Nikki like fucking water; have you read the lyrics for new piece? ‘Looks That Kill’, or whatever? It’s bitchin’, and I don’t even care that it’s about Y/N. He told me what he wants for the instrumentals and it’s gonna be awesome, the whole next album will be.” Vince gushed.

“They’ll tire themselves out eventually,” Mick sighed, “Until then, we suffer, and also tell them to get their shit together.”

Meanwhile at the record store, Y/N swore she was about to throw her lovers out of the store.

“When’s your lunch break?”

“When does your shift end?”

“We miss you!”

“Just close the store for a little while, we won’t tell...”

“Yeah, come on, baby, live a little!”

She loved Tommy and Nikki— really she did— but today they were making her want to tear her fucking hair out. The Twins were especially needy today and it seemed like their whining and pleading wouldn’t ever stop.

“Guys, you’re gonna get me fired, stop it!” She hissed, slapping Tommy’s hand off of her ass.

“Your boss is never even here! Nine times out of ten, you’re the only one working in here,” Nikki reminded, taking another cherry sucker from the bowl on the counter, and watching as Tommy slid behind her again.

“Yeah, but there’s customers here and sometimes the owner’s son comes by to check in and... and...” Her eyelids fluttered and her train of thought went off the tracks as Tommy began kissing her neck and nibbling her earlobe to distract her, “Tommy! I’m gonna slap you in the face if you don’t stop it!”

“But don’t you like it?” He whispered.

“I love it, that’s the problem. You two go home and I’ll see you in an hour for lunch, yeah? I’ll even call in sick for the rest of the day and have what’s-her-name cover for me.”

“Fine,” Nikki pouted, “You promise?”

“I promise, lover,” She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him gently, “But I promise nothing if you two don’t get out and let me get some work done.”

“C’mon, Sixx,” Tommy huffed and leaned down to give Y/N a kiss on the cheek, “See ya later, sweet thing.”

“Later, babes,” She smiled and waved goodbye as they left at last.

She sighed a sigh of deep relief and sank into her chair that sat behind the register. Finally she could take a breather and get some work done. Then the phone rang.

“Mötley residence, Mick speaking, can I please speak to Y/N?”

“Black Cat Records, Y/N speaking, what’s up, man?” She greeted.

“Are the boys still there?”

“Nope, just left. Why, did you need something?”

“No, no. They’ll be home soon enough, I’m sure. We’re having a band meeting later, though, and you need to be there, too.”

“Yeah, got it. Good news or bad news?”

“Little of both. Well, little bad, lot of good.”

“Okay, I’ll be off in a little under two hours and I told the boys I’d call in for the rest of the afternoon. See ya later, Mars man.”

“See ya later, Terror Triplet.”

She chuckled at the name and hung up. As she stuck price labels on a new shipment of records, she wondered what the news could be. The rest of the morning drug on slowly with few customers and boring music on the radio. No Mötley Crüe, that’s for sure. Finally, it was time for the lunch break. Y/N made a quick call before she left.

“Hey, Sylvia? Can you cover me this afternoon? Yeah, yeah, band stuff, you know. Yeah, I’ll tell the boys you said hello. Thanks, hun, I owe you one.”

She was lucky her coworker picked up and was even luckier she agreed to cover her. Even though her boys annoyed her, she still couldn’t wait to go home to them. Y/N was also anxious about Mick’s news. There was so much on her mind that she couldn’t even pay attention to the Blondie song that was on the radio as she drove to the Mötley residence. She climbed through the window of the apartment to find all of the boys laying around the living room in various states of undress.

“Why are you all half naked?” She snickered.

“It’s hot as balls, babe. Our AC broke, I think,” Tommy whined.

“Did you hit it?”

“A little,” Vince sighed, “It didn’t help.”

Y/N hummed to herself and went to the other window, kicking the air conditioning unit as hard as she could, to no avail.

“Damn, that usually works. Oh well, is there cold drinks in the fridge?”

“Yeah, Vinnie went grocery shopping today. We got beer, Diet Coke, bitchy wine cooler things, and some other shit,” Nikki replied, fanning himself with a random piece of sheet music.

She kicked off her shoes and shirt and grabbed a Coke from the fridge, sitting on the floor between Nikki’s legs and leaning her head on his thigh.

“Why are you wearing these leather pants, babe? Aren’t they hot?”

“Fashion before function, sweetheart,” The bassist shrugged.

“So Mick,” Tommy piped up, “What’s your big news?”

The guitarist sat up in his chair, and cleared his throat.

“Good news first. Do you guys remember that Zutaut kid?”

“Dorky rugby shirt?” Tommy asked.

“Yeah, that’s the one. He talked it over with Electra and called today saying they want to sign us as soon as possible.”

The boys and Y/N erupted in a chorus of whoops and hell-yeahs.

“So what’s the bad news? I don’t think anything can sting after that,” Nikki grinned.

Vince shifted uncomfortably before addressing the rhythm section and their lady love.

“Nikki, Tommy, Y/N, let me start by saying we love that you guys are happy together. But me and Mick feel that you’re letting this relationship consume you a little too much. Nikki, you’ve been letting Tommy get away with murder during practices. Tommy, you’re going soft with Sixx and Y/N, man. And Y/N, you’re our manager, but you’ve been devoting more of your time to the guys than the band as a whole. You should have been the one to talk to Electra and tell us we’re getting signed, you know? But we’ve been having to pick up the slack and that sucks.”

The trio nodded guiltily. They knew their priorities were a bit skewed as of late. Y/N had been meaning to call Electra for days, Tommy had been slacking and not taking his position as second in command seriously, and Nikki was too in love to whip Tommy into shape again. It wasn’t fair to Mick and Vince, and they knew that.

“Yeah, I mean us being together makes us happy, but maybe we should’ve considered if it would be good for the band,” Tommy sighed.

“Maybe taking a break would be the best thing for the band,” Y/N mused, words soaked in sorrow.

“Hey, no! You don’t have to take a break from each other, just even out your priorities a little more, you know?” Mick offered, “Tommy still acts like a ten year old but has more grown up moments since you guys started this. Nikki broods less and the creative juices really seem to be flowing. And you seem really content, and me and Vince don’t want to take that from you. You just needed to be straightened out. It’s cool, just focus on the band more, okay?”

The three nodded and sighed in relief. Y/N excused herself to go lie down because it had been a long day, and Nikki followed. Tommy would have, but insisted that Nikki’s bedroom was too stuffy for the Los Angeles heat with no air conditioner. The bassist opened the window in his bedroom to allow for some air flow as the manager removed her shirt and pants to lie down on the dark sheets.

“Were you serious when you talked about us taking a break?” Nikki asked, sitting on the floor beside the bed.

“Only half. If it would be better for the band, I think we could all agree on it. But it would kill me not to be with you and T-Bone anymore,” She whispered.

“Yeah, I get it. I don’t think I could go back to not being with you two dumbasses,” He cracked a smirk, “The bed’s too big without a couple extra warm bodies next to me.”

“I bet you’d write some killer breakup songs, though. Everybody loves a heartbreak,” She joked, fanning herself with a magazine from the table.

“I wouldn’t love this heartbreak,” Nikki sighed, leaning his head on the mattress, inches away from hers.

She took the memo and kissed him deeply before the sounds of chaos erupted from the living room.

“Damn it, Tommy! Don’t drink all the beer!” Vince whined, “Grab another one and I’ll... I’ll shoot you with a staple gun!”

“Did you leave your bag out there?” Nikki whispered.

“Mhm,” Y/N hummed.

“Is your staple gun from the store in it?”

“Mhm, wh—“

There was a metallic pop, followed by shouting.

“FUCK, BLONDIE! YOU MISSED MY EYE BY AN INCH!” Tommy shrieked.

“HALF AN INCH!” Vince yelled back.

“Oh, fuck,” The couple in the bedroom sighed in unison, before going out to join back in the chaos.

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#motley crue #the dirt #bass daddy #nikki sixx #tommy lee #t bone #nikki #tommy #nikki sixx imagine #tommy lee imagine #nikki sixx smut #tommy lee smut #nikki sixx fluff #tommy lee fluff

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elizadoolittlethings · 4 years

Text

Graves is a prime example of the coda “action is character.”

Rupert Graves as Harold Guppy in Philip Doodhue’s Intimate Relations. Photo by Sally Miles. Courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures. [x]

Rupert Graves by

Nicole Burdette

BOMB 61Fall 1997

full interview

[MORE]

Whether he’s sucking on hard candy, contemplating suicide, or limping slightly in boots two sizes too big, Rupert Graves is ever graceful. At once a mixture of the violent and the poetic, Graves’ film characters are compared to the kings of the tortured handsome, Montgomery Clift and John Keats. It’s an odd and wonderful thing to spend the afternoon with a stranger speaking of the near obscurity and perfection of Robert Donat, Che Guevara’s hands, and what exactly it is to be brave.

Graves is a prime example of the coda “action is character.” He, like all great actors, is highly physical. We can see his characters—literally we recognize them. In Intimate Relations, Rupert as Harold Guppy clings to Julie Walters, feeding himself sugar cubes like a child. In Mrs. Dalloway, his Septimus Warren Smith stumbles through life; again, literally and emotionally. It is all the way Rupert Graves turns his characters inside out, so what you see is what you get. He manages to become Virginia Woolf’s subconscious—he materializes the description of his character, Septimus: “…with hazel eyes which had that look of apprehension in them which makes complete strangers apprehensive too.” Graves has five films coming out this fall: Mrs. Dalloway with Vanessa Redgrave, Different For Girls, The Revengers’ Comedies with Kristen Scott Thomas and Helena Bonham Carter, Bent, and Intimate Relations with Julie Walters, for which Graves was awarded the Best Actor Award at the 1996 Montreal Film Festival. But that is just this year, his other credits include extensive work on British television and other films: Louis Malle’s Damage, Nick Hytner’s The Madness Of King George; and Merchant Ivory’s Maurice and A Room With A View. In addition to his film work, Graves has consistently worked on the London stage, where he is returning this fall to do Hurly Burly.

Nicole Burdette Now, how did you grow up?

Rupert Graves I grew up in a little English town in a poor-ish family. I went to a comprehensive school which is the same as public school here, I think. My father was a bit posher than my mum, who was a working-class girl from Wales. He’s a pianist.

NB How did they meet?

RG My mum used to sing in amateur shows. They met at a choral society that my dad used to conduct. She saw him, and she can’t have thought, “What a beauty,” so it must have been, “What a genius,” because she loved the music.

NB Were you musical as a kid?

RG No, no. I was brought up quite religiously Catholic and was a choir boy and an acolyte. I used to sing, but it’s a horrible sound.

NB I read that you were in the circus.

RG Yes, I joined when I was 15. I had just left school.

NB How did that idea come to you?

RG It didn’t. It came through the city employment bureau. I knew a girl whose mum used to work there—it was a small town I come from—and she knew I liked acting. And so when the circus came into town and their clown disappeared, I became a trainee. A trainee clown through the job center.

NB Were you a good clown?

RG No, not really.

NB Could you do flips and jump off high things and do daredevil stuff?

RG I didn’t jump. I did slackwire. Do you know slackwire?

NB Tightrope?

RG It’s lower than most tightropes and it’s not tight. It’s very loose, about 15 feet high, and it’s harder to do. It’s like walking across a chain.

NB And you were good at it?

RG I was a clown. I would practice in the ring during the performances, and everyone would laugh because I fell off—but I was actually seriously trying to get across.

NB I ask because I got to see three of your movies in one week, and I noticed that in each one you have a different walk. Your body changed completely. But it wasn’t like method acting where one, say, gains fifty pounds and obviously one’s walk changes. With you it’s subtle. There are an actor’s usual bag of tricks—beards, haircuts, accents… Yet, in all three movies your voice, your haircut are all intact, but you are completely unrecognizable—that’s quite an accomplishment. You don’t rely on the visual—you actually act, imagine that!

RG You do have to understand what your part is, and it’s difficult to intellectualize that. But you can feel it and you know it the moment you see it. It’s accessing some part of your own. I’m completely uneducated, untrained, as an actor, but I do have a fundamental belief that one is capable of pretty much anything. That’s a first principle: One is anything. So I kind of feel that I’ve got George Bush and Che Guevara in me.

NB I’ve been thinking about Che Guevara, just so you know.

RG Are you into The Motorcycle Diaries? They’re great. Guevara went around South America and up to Mexico on this terrible old Enfield motorbike with this other doctor, they were specializing in leprosy. And you know, Castro has Guevara’s hands in his house. They found his body in Bolivia just in the last few months, and it’s gone home to Cuba. But it was handless. The story goes Guevara’s hands were sent to Castro to prove it was him, and Castro kept them. Anyway, that gets back to “One is anything.”

NB So that’s your theory for acting?

RG I think you access different parts of the brain. It’s slightly different for different things. For example, for Intimate Relations I wore shoes that were two sizes too big. I wanted to feel clumsy.

NB I read that in explaining your role (Harold Guppy in Intimate Relations) you said, “I think it’s dangerous as an actor to ever judge a character as stupid.” It seemed to me, watching you in the film, that you played against Harold’s violent tendencies—constantly trying to play down his destiny. You are so powerful at this that even though we can see this story (based on a true murder case) turning dark and darker, we still are hoping that tea and sympathy will win out for Harold—which of course it doesn’t. How did you create such a layered portrait of a possibly less layered person?

RG My starting point with Harold was a lack of will. What happens when your will is taken from you, when you become quite suggestible? It’s not that he’s very innocent. I don’t think he’s an innocent person, but I do think he was institutionalized and his will was taken. He had this blood-sugar problem and when the levels went down he would get violent; but he hadn’t really done anything, it was just a behavioral problem. So I imagine from an early age he didn’t have much love or comfort. Nobody would want to hug a child who would head-butt you. His mum threw him out because she couldn’t cope with it. So he’s been in this kid’s prison—not like a home, a prison for bad children.

NB A reform school.

RG Yeah.

Rupert Graves and Steven Mackintosh in Richard Spence’s Different for Girls. Photos by Luis Lazo. Courtesy of First Look Pictures. image not loading :(

NB What was it like working with Julie Walters in the film?

RG Fan-fucking-tastic. She’s a genius. She’s a very working class girl, and she used to work as a nurse and now owns a hog farm down in the south of England. But anyway, she’s a really lovely lady, deeply, all the way from her toes to her head, and she has a great facility at getting the saucy aspects of people. She’s kind of naughty, so mischievous. At the time of Intimate Relations, I had been doing a lot of work and I was getting a tiny bit cynical as an affectation. I thought the more films you did, the more you had to pretend it was boring. And I kind of started to believe it. But she came along and she was like this gremlin, a little troll living under the bridge. Any cynicism that comes over the bridge, she’ll get it. It’s so infectious. She completely gave me my love for doing stuff back.

NB She gave it back to you?

RG Well, only by example, because she’s no time for any of that cynicism.

NB Would you say she’s your favorite person to work with so far?

RG Yeah. She’s great. She really is, she’s so lovely. That’s my Julie Walters rant.

NB If you were for example—and this is hypothetical, obviously—given you as a character, you the man, not the actor, how would you prepare? What qualities would you consider important to examine under the surface?

RG God knows. I’d look at the environment of myself.

NB Which is?

RG Which is London theatricality. Psychologically I would look into background, and try and determine what he was missing or wasn’t missing.

NB Would you want to play you? Would it be interesting?

RG I don’t know. Everyone is interesting in their own funny way.

NB What I noticed in these three characters, and this really sounds corny, but you seem to love these people. It’s old fashioned, to love your characters; Michael Redgrave, the sort of actors I really love, they loved their characters. Did you ever see The Browning Version?Michael Redgrave plays this really tortured, almost bad person, but you can tell Redgrave loves this man and it is the most bizarre thing to watch because he loves this person who is ruining everything. You also give your characters the benefit of the doubt, and you give them nobility. Is that something that just comes to you?

RG I find it difficult playing a part that I don’t have any empathy with at all.

NB Is there such a part?

RG Well, I played a Nazi in Bent. It was a very, very small part but I researched like fuck, because I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t get my head round what it meant to be a Nazi. Here’s a guy taking Jews and homosexuals in the trains to Dachau, the camps. They were just brutal. How do you get to that place? So I researched, what does Nazism mean to Germany, and what state was Germany in that a leader like that could take them in? Not all Germans were bad, but a collected evil gathered speed. And when I played that character, I realized that for him it was just efficiency, that this was the practical thing to do. And somewhere in my soul I had to find something that could understand that.

NB If you were to play Richard III, which you very well might do in your lifetime, what then? That’s pure evil, from beginning to end. Would that be the ultimate challenge?

RG Certainly, with Richard III, there’s an awful lot more context and more individual motivations and desires. Rather than just here’s a nasty guy who’s killing somebody, whacking them up and beating them. The part’s so damn small in Bent, there’s not much actually in there. Whereas Richard III is very articulate about what he’s doing and why he’s doing it. You’ve got to have a reason to be the character. I like mess. That’s why people become so intellectual, because it’s all a damn mess.

I did a funny thing the other day. I’ve got a friend in England who’s an actor and he bought a new house in the countryside, right on the foot of this steep hill which is made of slate and flint, so the ground is really hard. It’s got this path which is almost vertical coming down and which is covered by trees so there is no moon at night. We went to the top and got absolutely stoned out of our faces—and it’s darn hard getting up there, and if you fall the flints can rip you open—and then he said, “Come on, we’ve got to go back, we’ve got to be really careful.” And I said, “No, let’s just run. Let’s just close our eyes and run down this path as fast as we can. Just trust that we can do it.” He said, “No, no, no,” and I said, “Come on.” We were all right, but it was just this moment of going, “Waaa!” into this sheet, which was quite dangerous. I know it’s quite a mild story really, but I’m not really given to wild things.

NB You’re not?

RG No, normally I’m not. But it’s an interesting thing to me, to just trust it. To just go with the message that if you fall over and you cut your hand you’re not going to die. If you cut your fucking hand, so what? Be brave. It’s like in Mrs. Dalloway — the young clerk who says, “Take the plunge.”

NB Are you brave?

RG I can be, and I can be hugely cowardly. But if I’m deeply pissed off or deeply offended I can be brave.

NB Sometimes it’s the opposite with people. When they’re relaxed they can be brave, and when they’re upset that’s when they find that they’re cowardly.

RG That’s true of me too. Maybe I was being disingenuous there.

NB No, I think you’re better off if you’re brave when you’re angry.

RG Yeah, but now I don’t know if that’s true.

NB It’s complex. But you have some braveness in you.

RG Yeah, some. I break things. I’m a good breaker of things.

NB Do you feel better?

RG No, because I only break my things, which pisses me off. Sometimes, I think I do it because I get tongue tied. When I was a kid I used to have a bad stammer, it’s probably one of the reasons I went into acting, because I had to go to elocution lessons to get over going, “Uh-uh-uh.”

NB And that’s how you got into acting?

RG Do you know an actor called Robert Donat?

NB Oh my God! One of my favorites.

RG What strikes me about him is a kind of grace.

NB The Winslow Boy.

RG Isn’t that the most beautiful portrayal of any character ever?

NB That’s what I was trying to explain to you about the love of the character, and that is the most beautiful…

RG His mood is so moving. You can watch him doing Goodbye, Mr. Chips, The Thirty-Nine Steps… He has such deep grace. Even The Winslow Boy, that is such a hard part. But there’s this absolute nobility, and it’s not to do with class, but with human nobility.

NB It’s so funny that you bring up that actor. As I was watching your movies I was thinking: Robert Donat. That’s my favorite era of films, English films of the ’30s and ’40s, and you hearken back to that.

RG He was my hero. I’ve always thought, if I could tune into that, if I could take whatever that man was taking, I’d be a happy boy.

NB But that’s a different legacy. It’s just a different kind of acting.

RG Yeah, it is. I did a very bad film called Damage, which Louis Malle directed. And Louis Malle, who was a lovely man and has made some great films, was always going on about grace. You know, (imitating a French accent) “Rupert, there is something of a big grace in you, something that is very beautiful.” But at other times he’d say, “You can’t do acting, forget it!” I looked at his old films and you can see that sensibility, that grace, in some of his really early films.

NB Absolutely, he had a wonderful sense of grace.

RG It’s an overworked word now, grace.

NB No, it’s not. It’s an underworked word.

RG Is it? I’ll fight you for it. (laughter)

NB Let’s get back to Robert Donat. It’s very important.

RG It is, because it’s like having a bag full of nudie magazines in England. You can’t refer to him, because it’s old-fashioned.

NB But old-fashioned is where it’s at.

RG But England is very admiring of American, brash acting.

NB If you could play anybody, or a couple of people, who would it be? This is not an acting question. For instance, I asked a jazz musician what he would be, and he said, Abraham Lincoln, Bobby Fischer, the chess player, and Seymour Glass, a Salinger character.

RG I would like to play Caligula, in Camus’ version. Do you know the Camus version?

NB No.

RG It’s interesting. It’s not a great play, but you can do it if you open it up. You have to really put a bomb under that thing. There’s a lot of existentialist “yadda-yadda-yadda.” It’s about corruption, I suppose, the corruption of a soul.

NB And who else?

RG That’s it. I’d like to play a great sports person. With a kind of absolute grace and ease. (laughter)

NB If you were to come back as an inanimate object, what would you be? You have to say what came to your mind instantly.

RG A stone.

NB A stone? Why a stone?

RG I don’t know, you said whatever came into my head. I don’t know why I said a stone…

NB What does it look like?

RG It’s smooth…

NB What color?

RG I don’t know, do you need me to define it?

NB Yeah.

RG A large pebble.

NB A large pebble. What color?

RG It’s a bit blondish, kind of ash colored, beech-wood color.

NB And where was it, was it alone?

RG It was on a dusty road. On a road with smaller little pebbles around, but it was…

NB You knew that was you?

RG Yeah.

Rupert Graves as Septimus Warren Smith in Marleen Gorris’ Mrs. Dalloway. Photo by Roberta Parkin. Courtesy of First Look Pictures. pic not loading :(

NB What about your work in the theater?

RG I’ve never trained at all. I mean, I did things like ‘Tis Pity, She’s a Whore at the National Theatre in The Olivier when I was 21. Which is a fucking hard play to do. It’s a lovely, hard play, but it’s a really tricky one. And I really fucked up on that. I didn’t know about Jacobean drama, I didn’t know how to speak. I don’t know if you’ve been to The Olivier in London, but it’s massive, an open theater in the round. It’s huge, like three thousand people, and I just ran down this corridor onto the stage and thought, “Ahhh…,” and forgot my lines. I wanted to say, “Come back in five years.”

NB And then what happened?

RG I fell over. I started shaking and then fell over. I got the first word, and then I just stood up and shrieked. (shrieking) I did the play like that.

NB But you got through it?

RG I got through it, but…

NB What did your other actors think? Were they mad?

RG They were just like, “Rupert, what are you doing? Hello!!??”

NB Well, there comes the bravery thing again. That was brave at least.

RG No, that was ignorant, that wasn’t brave. Brave is different, brave is trying to push as many different things, take risks, being open.

NB Playing Septimus in Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway, what was that like?

RG It was great. I read the script and I didn’t know what the hell it was about. Septimus suffers from a lot of abstracted neuroses, and I needed to find out what that was about. I went to speak to a lady at the Hospital for Psychological Disease. She worked with people who were in the Gulf War and had post-traumatic stress. But it didn’t really help, in that I knew you could be brave with shell shock or post-traumatic stress disorders, it’s not an internal thing. PTSD is actually a physical manifestation. So I wasn’t lacking in confidence, but I didn’t understand what the dialogue meant, things like, “The birds, they’re speaking in Greek to me.” So I looked at everything that Virginia Woolf wrote. Her letters, and biography, and I realized that a lot of her personal trauma had been put into her male characters. That kind of threw me a bit, as she’s acknowledged as a feminine, or feminist writer.

NB As a female writer I do it all the time.

RG But interestingly, I do it as a male. When I used to write songs, and I still do write sometimes, I often have a female character, and put my truth into a female. Woolf puts it into male characters. Things that Septimus says connect very directly to things in Woolf’s life. For example, “The birds are speaking Greek to me.” She was abused when she was a girl during Greek lessons. And when she had a breakdown when she was older she used to hear Greek birds talking to her, or birds talking in Greek. Finding out about those pieces of her life gave me the emotional plane to work on. So it didn’t have to just be, you know, jabber.

NB Actors rarely realize that the playwright or the writer is in all of the characters.

RG Yeah, the most honest stuff and her most personal stuff went into her male characters. Because Septimus is the other side of what Mrs. Dalloway would have been if she’d taken the plunge, like what she said she should have done when she was 17…

NB And married Peter? He would have been the brave choice.

RG Yeah. She took the easy route and married Dalloway. And the day in which the story takes place is her looking back, and thinking, “Am I where I had hoped to be when I was seventeen? Was I brave, or did I do the easy thing?”

NB How do you relate to that? In your life?

RG I don’t know, I’ve never had a plan. I mean, I wanted to act and I’ve done that. And I’ve gotten better as I’ve gotten older, so I’m progressing. I don’t feel I’m getting worse. Sometimes I do, sometimes I think my experience has overcome my naiveté and my naiveté is interesting in a certain way. Do you know what I mean?

NB Yes, I do.

RG You want to know what you’re gaining and what you’re losing, don’t you? Every time you take a step somewhere. That’s what I do anyway. Maybe that’s why running down the hill was so important, because normally I’m looking at stuff pretty carefully. And sometimes you just need something like that. And you can do that onstage sometimes, you can just dive—Bang! it might be into a nest of snakes or it might be a lovely work. It’s essential. I did one play which I loved doing. And the reviews came out, and I’d meet people after the play, and it was like the embodiment of everything that I’ve wanted to do with acting. It was really intense. They were going, “That was the most fucking intense thing. I never had that feeling before.” And then the reviews came out saying, “What a crock of shit.” And in one way it seemed like people were saying, “Oh, I’m so sorry about the reviews.” I was saying, “No, honestly, I don’t know what’s happened, but it’s just fantastic. People love it. People fucking love it.” You would go through the bar, and people were actually shaking sometimes, and that was so wild. It was the wildest thing I’d ever seen.

NB Sure, and the opposite happens too.

RG Yeah, absolutely, all the time. Unnervingly often, too often.

Nicole Burdette is a writer and an actress based in New York. This fall her short stories will appear in Jane magazine and the QPB Literary Review; as an actress she appears in the upcoming Digging to China directed by Timothy Hutton.

source: bombmagazine [x]

#RG #rupert graves #interview #bomb magazine #1997 #the man who made me like men #all things MG #wanted to post a quote #but #may never get this net speed again #so #here's the whole interview #i simply love the man!#i've bolded the bits i like ..

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badlydrawndrawnings · 4 years

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atwq book four thoughts

guess who somehow got a lot of free time yesterday and made the bold decision to finish reading the last atwq book? me!

guees who feels like they jinxed qwerty’s fate from the previous book of being arrested, but alive, even though i bet daniel handler planned it from the start? still me!

guess who is rather upset netflix accidentally gave a clue/spoiler on the identity of hangfire?

also me.

okay, so first off, to get something out of the way. i love this book. i really do. it had me on suspense every chapter.

theodora figured out qwerty was in vfd (...when did she figure out? not long after sharon reveal herself as a fake vfd member? or during the period she and lemony weren’t speaking to each other?), and god she really was willing to take the blame on being qwerty’s killer. did she think maybe she once again screw up, but this time there was no going back because the screw up got someone killed? after all she seem to selfishly went to break qwerty out for a good evaluation. maybe she thought if things went different, he would still be alive. and given the schism happened, vfd while not divided yet, this is like a sign on how another librarian’s death in the long, long future, will be blame on an innocent party and things go to hell again in the pursuit of justice and truth.

also, ghede and gifford also knew of the coup as well? or at least knew the sbg was doing something and they’re like let them do this shit and we can watch it’s gonna benefit us in the long run’. also, holy shit olaf name drop take two with beatrice herself! i didn’t think while knowing each other young mean they actually hanged out with one another to think they’re possibility friends. this puts the opera night even worse. beatrice must have knew olaf’s parents. with my headcanon of olaf parents being caring parents to olaf and used their connections to get their son back earlier than others, this is just awful.

getting back on track from the mess that is vfd there’s a murder on a train (agatha christie ahoy!). i admit several weeks ago i made the decision to watch snowpiercer and train to busan so i couldn’t really take the murder on the orient express shout out clearly and kept on thinking of the wild willy wonka and the chocolate factory/snow piercer theory. and zombies in south korea.

all the damn sbts kids just thought it great to share the one brain cell to be on the same train (pip and squeak just follow in their taxi; cleo and jake had to travel through time in the dilemma to catch up with them). ornette got her time to shine with her artistic/sculpting skills and there’s some light on the subject of the lost family (of course it’s a fire that took ornette’s mom life. fires seems to be a way to kill a lot of parents). i was right to call her gung-ho working with lemony, she just agreed to make fake bb statues for moxie and kellar and was like ‘oh shit the two are sharing a brain cell. hangfire could figure something is up what have i done’ and had to make something else to give to lemony. i uh..wonder if seth has a reason to draw her baseball cap all...fuzzy. just a weird question.

kellar’s sister lizzie shows up. i’m going to be honest. she has the bad luck of appearing last and under two disguises that went over my head (she sure fooled me!). i do have some thoughts that surround her and the haines family, but that needs me to re-read the last two books to make sure i’m not imagining something . will say lizzie is much younger and shorter than i thought given her first illustration. i hope maybe a re-read will make me get some new insight on her. also, hi sally murphy. i’m glad lizzie got out with maybe your help (i mean, why else would she want to high tail it out of there).

the identity of qwerty’s killer was something i should have seen coming due to how the mitchum parents are more subdue. i want to slap stew’s parents. they spend all their time bickering they only got their shit together to see how their ‘precious’ son is really a bully and killer and working with the villian under their damn noses. i almost feel sorry for them because shit stew more or less blackmail his parents into covering the crime but at the same time...this call could have been avoid if you pay attention to how your son isn’t the angel you think he is..and you two are still fighting with one another please get your priorities straight i beg you. i admit i almost want to slap stew but i don’t slap kids, and i think if i exist in the snicket world i would get murder first by him.

qwerty’s death and the fact he’s a vfd member just hurt me so bad and i’m still kind of grieving over him. for one, i felt like i should have seen qwerty being part of vfd coming. he’s a sub-librarian. while not a sub-sub-librarian, the fact is qwerty is such so damn helpful to lemony i should have seen he was just doing his best to help lemony because theodora wasn’t honestly...wasn’t doing a good job at a chaperone. but he couldn’t blow away his cover because he wasn’t supposed to interfere in the apprenticeship and honestly he was just happy to be a sub-librarian helping children find what they would love reading.

but qwerty isn’t the only death in this book. i got to copy-paste something from an old atwq post in feburary 8, something i made as a joke, because oh boy, this part is the one negative i have honestly.

he tried to pretend to be her father! i know his voice mimicry is basically akin to juni cortez’s mimicry, but this is just cruel had ellington been there.

about a week later, i made the decision to rewatch netflix asoue. now, the first time i watch season two [edit lmao i actually don’t remember if it was season two i think i hated season two so much i could have blur two and three together i got to rewatch the show again definitely. edit two: okay, i’m certain it was season two i’m 98% certain it was was a pause and read easter egg that’s why i couldn’t remember what season exactly damn easter eggs] i honestly was like ‘so they gave nero a last name. coolio. feint isn’t a surname i was expecting but this is the netflix show this probably isn’t canon to the books’.

on the rewatch, after the austere academy part two ended, i realized something is...off, with nero now. he’s mocking people. and his voice, while not mimicking them, is like...it’s like nero could have inherit mimicry from someone but it never went through. or maybe he did got it but it’s not at its full potential without the proper teaching of someone with the skill...like a father, perhaps?

so the kronk meme is playing in my mind, but it’s the edit of him saying ‘oh no, it’s all coming together’. and given patrick warburton also voice kronk, it felt more like lemony snicket decided to materialize right behind me, be an asshole, and thought it funny to do a commentary on my possible realization hangfire, in the netflix show at least, couldn’t keep his dick in his pants and bore a bastard son in an adulterous affair and ellington has a half brother in the world she doesn’t know about and i hope she never learns about.

(given barrymore feint is just a cameo of barry sonnenfeld, i guess the bullshit gene i talked about in another post regarding a theory who netflix!h is should be renamed the feint gene.)

so reading the third book, and especially this book, i kept a close eye on any mentions to ellington’s dad and hangfire’s behavior. i kept on saying in my mind ‘please don’t be who i think you are’. and bam. armstrong feint is hangfire. i feel like if netflix didn’t have the need to make an atwq reference in nero’s surname, and if i was smart enough to have the book clues smack me in the face (i feel there are clues somewhere, and hangfire dropped all pretenses and just being ‘himself’ in book two was one), i wouldn’t be so angry and upset by this reveal. i more or less got spoil and put the pieces together due to an adaptation, and i should have known better than to do a re-watch while reading atwq. i should have consider the possibility of easter eggs to atwq.

anyway, lemony snicket thought it great to kill hangfire by feeding him to a copy bombinating beast (the tadpoles!!). with ellington right freaking there. with most of his sbts friends there to witness. moxie can’t even look lemony in the eye anymore (no more best friends anymore). everything happened just like that and after finishing the book and taking a walk around the living room, i have to say hangfire is a good villain. he achieved his goal of getting the bombinating beast, even if it’s a copy. he’s a very competent villain who succeed in almost every book in some way or form. he played everyone like a puppet and was a threat that is more akin to tmwabbnh and twwhbnb’s level of villainy. kudos to you hangfire i’m impressed.

hangfire totally got it coming too. however, i do feel...hurt in his death, if only for ellington’s sake. during the walk because i realize ellington reminded me of a character from a different fandom i’m in. there’s some differences that i won’t get into (it’s...complicated for the other fandom), but they’re cut from almost the same cloth: teenage girls with shitty fathers who are using them for their own selfish goals. thoughts for ellington and her future formed faster for me than for the other atwq kids as a result:

post-canon!ellington (a few days later when she finally gets her stuff figure out), has a simple list. 1: avoiding anyone with a vfd tattoo or give shady lemon vibes -ellington split asap after she and kit broke out and have 100% certainly no one is after them, but not before stealing some things from kit, one being notes of vfd volunteers (she thinks). 2: find a new place to live. 3: figure out a new name that isn’t an anagram, because the inhumane society once they heard the news, is probably going to try to get her if they get wind she is hangfire’s daughter and possible ‘successor’. ellington wants nothing to do with the bombinating beast. she never wants to see the statue or anything similar, or hear the words again.

adult!ellington (under a fake name of course), while accepting all that happened, hasn’t forgive lemony snicket. yes, her dad was a villain. yes, she finally understand her dad isn’t the kind naturalist and man, and used her for the biggest ‘what’ event of her life that is also a very selfish goal. many times in the past though, ellington wonders if she missed any signs of her dad’s descend to who he eventually became, or if he hid it very well to where he was wearing two masks all this time, one hiding his true nature. ellington even wonders at one point, dad was going convince her to willingly work with him without the fake kidnapping and had to change his plans to something crueler.

ellington will never know for sure. this is why ellington can’t forgive lemony and will say it to face if they ever meet again. what ellington hates the most out of her father’s death is that she can never tell dad all of her feelings about his wrong doings. she can ask all the questions burning at the back of her mind, or yell her frustrations how terrible a father he is for faking his kidnapping and getting her to do his dirty work, getting her to use her loyalty of family to do things she would never do under normal circumstances. she ask questions and yells at the only photo left of armstrong feint...

and in the end, she knows he’ll never answer, and it hurts to deal with the unknown. adult!ellington doesn’t do the yelling and questioning to the photo as much. partly because she did ‘settle’ on what might be an possible answer, but mostly because the photo is pretty faded to where it’s less ‘armstrong feint’ and more ‘hangfire’. once in awhile though, she slips up like old times.

adult!ellington with her new life (she travels a lot, pays in cash most of the time, and has no set resident; she still love coffee) tends to think of the past, especially when it came to what she had with lemony snicket. did lemony like her? was she just a question in need of solving? ellington admits to possibly liking him, but it was so long ago maybe she just thinks she liked him to have a ‘positive’ memory of the boy she haven’t seen in years that she kind of wants to see again, if only to yell at him for robbing her of something important. his name lands on her radar a lot, twice from the daily punctilio. the first one was learning of lemony snicket’s crimes, and it was an accident.

the second time, she learn of his death, though she read the daily punctilio on purpose in hopes of a name drop. adult!ellington ended up finding some children’s book, and made the mistake of going to the back of it and find a photo of lemony snicket. not really though. lemony is hiding his face (ellington hates it) and she buys it to know what it’s about. it spiral to where she bought the next two books because she wants to know if the baudelaires orphans are real (and because lemony doesn’t seem the same anymore from his writings). ellington settles on real when she pulls out kit snicket’s notes she stolen and cross references names, and even travels to the locations to them to make sure. after the third book publication, the series goes on ‘hiatus’ due to the daily punctilio and their announcement. ellington doubts he’s dead, but couldn’t help attend the funeral. ellington is certain lemony snicket is alive, because she convinced she saw him at his own funeral.

#atwq #all the wrong questions #why is this night different from all other nights #ellington feint #hangfire #asoue #a series of unfortunate events #netflix asoue #asoue netflix #lemony snicket #spoilers #this is a text post

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nlmorgan89 · 4 years

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Murderous Intent

Jeff is back from the Oort Cloud but something dark is looming on the horizon. A horror had descended on the island and no one is safe from it. Who will be the reason for it and what is the only thing that will keep them safe from the horror… READ ON TO FIND OUT! (Sorry nothing is better than reading an unknown ending.)

“GORDON!!!” Scott roared; Jeff had been home for month after living in the Oort Cloud for 8 long years before Gordon, the eternal clown of the Tracy family, had started pulling pranks once again. Wondering what his second youngest son had done this time, he had heard Brains mumbling something about paint just moments ago, he moved back from his desk fearing what is was involving and walked to the sleep quarters, Scott was hammering on the door trying to break it down in nothing but a towel, the poor boy was yellow, Gordon had somehow made the shower in Scott’s room work for paint and not water.

“Scott, before you dry or worse stain the floors go use my shower and get the paint off.” Jeff intervened, trying to keep a poker face so his son would not see him laugh. He saw the rage in Scott’s eyes but knew that once he had calmed down Gordon would be out of danger as Scott looked ready to murder him. He waited till he heard the shower start, then he knocked on Gordon’s door and waited, hearing no reply, thinking he was in bed still he opened the door and found a surprisingly clean room very much not what anyone expected from the young aquanaut, who lived like a slob, he went to the desk to ponder where his son would be, coming up blank he asked John if he had seen Gordon who aside from Scott and Brains was the only one who would be awake enough to think rationally without the use of coffee. “He should be on the island still, he pranked Scott, being a canary is not Scott’s idea of funny.”

“But funny for everyone else.” John laughed, EOS had shown him the scene outside Gordon’s room just moments ago, he did look like a canary, he had plan’s to alter the footage so he could give it to Scott to try to calm him down. “His watch is in his room?”

“He isn’t there. I already checked. Could you take a photo of his room too?” Jeff asked, John wondered why till he saw the state it was in. he was shocked, even when mum was around the only room that was like this was John’s. Something caught his eye on the bookshelf, and it made John explode.

“I am going to kill that Squid. He moved my stuff into his room!” John hissed, Virgil, who had been woken by Scott paled and walked backwards out of the room. John only ever hissed when he was truly mad.

“We will move your stuff back after we find Gordon.” Jeff said, he saw Virgil out of the corner of his eye and saw the frantic waving. ‘No … Gordon... You… Dead.’ What did Virgil mean by that suddenly he heard John hiss again, he was madder now and cancelled the call. Virgil raced to Johns portrait and slammed a hidden button. A shrill alarm went off and then the entire building seemed to shake with everyone running into the room. Jeff was wondering what was going on. Alan and Grandma came running in, Scott followed dripping water soap and shampoo everywhere, even Brains and Kayo were pale.

“I did not do it I swear, I don’t want to die again?” Alan squeaked, he was green now, and looked like he was about to either throw up or pass out.

“Not you, Gordon … and Dad.” Virgil explained, his voice was barely audible but at the same time it was loud because it was so quiet.

“What did I do? Gordon pranked him by moving all his stuff.” Jeff explained, he must have missed something in the 8 years he had been gone, John never got this reaction when he got mad before.

“Then you said that we would move it all back.” Virgil said, he was shaking like a leaf now. “We wait till the initial rage is over before we think about even offering to help.”

“I agree with Virgil son,” Sally said patting his arm. “I had only ever seen him this mad when he had gone into 5 soon after you disappeared, Gordon and Alan had snuck onboard and released stink bombs everywhere. Go somewhere, will message you when he gives up.”

“How bad could he be?” Jeff questioned.

“Gordon’s hydrofoil nightmare is like a puppies, kitten and rainbows kid’s dream compared to what he did. Does that answer your question?” Scott said coming over to Alan and picking up the kid, who was a whimpering mess, for a 19-year-old.

“Really?” Jeff queried, something seemed wrong here but their reaction where too genuine.

“Really, mum wasn’t kidding when she said that red head’s make the worst enemies to get flaming mad.” Scott said, he was shaking too.

“Where has Gordon gone then and why leave his watch behind?” Jeff asked, Kayo had suddenly clicked her fingers with the realisation that Gordon could only be in one place.

“He is in his deep-water cave under the island.” Kayo said, Brains ran to Gordon’s chute hit another hidden button and came out with a deep-water suit and tank. “Get changed and follow the map on the screen. We will tell you when it is safe.”

“Okay,” Jeff said, no one was laughing at this and he was starting to get scared but put the gear on and went in the water. It took Jeff almost 30 minutes to find his second youngest. “Gordon, why is everyone scared of John?”

“I don’t know, I just made my room a mirror image of his I didn’t touch anything I swear.” Gordon said, he helped his dad into the cave that was an air pocket, though it might be linked to the old cave system. Gordon had found it with Penny a few months ago. “I came down here to avoid Scott, not John.”

“He is mad because you touched his things.” Jeff explained, he was not really getting a straight answer from anyone. “I said that once we found you, we would put everything back the way it was before it was moved.”

“Was he hissing?” Gordon whispered, even in the dim light that Gordon and Jeff had he was pale.

“Yeah then he hissed after I spoke again.” Jeff stated, he was going to say more but Gordon was now rocking and holding his knees to his cheek, like he did when he had a nightmare about his accident. He thought that it was not going to last as long as it seemed to be, but what he did not know was that they were planning a party for him and that this entire fear of John was all an act. It had taken them all month to get the acting right, Alan was racing off to 3 to fly to Mars to pick up Lee Taylor and bring him to Earth for a long weekend, though the prank on Scott was unplanned. After what seemed like a few days in the dark they were finally contacted saying John was back in 5. “Finally think you can swim Gordo?”

“Think so.” Gordo whimpered, they soon had all their gear back on and was swimming to the surface. Once they arrived it was pitched black and moonless, every light was off, which seemed strange, but Jeff ignored it and was soon helping Gordon with his tanks which they were placing inside the hangar till tomorrow. They took the stairs and tried to not make a noise thinking that the others were now asleep.

“SURPRISE!!!!”

“What?” Jeff said, the minute they had entered the lounge the lights were turned on revealing everyone was gathered around, with streamers, hats and balloons everywhere. Jeff had completely forgot it was his birthday today.

“Happy birthday Jeff!” Lee called out to him. “Aaron and Sven came to pick me up for your birthday party.”

“I think it is official, we finally surprised Dad.” John said, Jeff was in shock especially when Gordon and John wrapped an arm around each other and fell back in the chair laughing. “Did you really think that I would be scarier than the hydrofoil accident?”

“Honestly no, but you were all so terrified and Gordon was almost catatonic down there I was having doubts. I was thinking John had actually murdered someone.” Jeff explained, Virgil and Alan were laughing too, they were tearing up with all the laughing. “How were you able to looks so terrified, you were never that good at acting.”

“Thank Gordon, for that he is the acting champion, and Grandma’s veg stew.” Alan explained, he looked green thinking of it. Everyone who had tried it grimaced too. Nothing good came from eating her food. “The only thing that wasn’t planned was the paint.”

“I had to think of a way for Dad to go into my room and want John to take a photo, I am never doing that again, way too many laundry loads and lifting of garbage.” Gordon winced; he arms were still killing him. Plus, Grandma had not helped by telling him she was not going to do any of his clothes. Maybe next time you will not leave your laundry in there for a month.

“Did we really surprise you Dad?” Scott asked, Jeff was now sitting down with his eyes closed, they could not read his face at all.

“You did, when did you plan this? It must have taken months?” Jeff enquired.

“The minute we found out you were alive. Scott thought of the party, Virgil knew who to invite, Grandma, Brains and Kayo oversaw the decorations, I oversaw the food.” Alan explained, then as he was about to grab a piece of cake John and Gordon stopped him. “Sorry, John and Gordon were in charge of the distraction and I also forgot you get the first slice Dad.”

“Thank you all for a wonderful surprise birthday, I wish that your mum could have seen this. She never could have pulled it off though she did try every year.” Jeff said he was smiling at all that they had done for him but privately he thought I will let them think that they tricked me Lucy, I don’t mind the present and they did go all out for trying to get me away so they could be ready. I am proud of them and I know you are too. Too bad the company that they ordered the telescope from called the house phone while they were away on a rescue to confirm the order was ready to be picked up. I just let it go to the answering machine. I am also the King of Acting too Grandma’s cooking was a godsend, poor Alan though.

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winterknight1087 · 4 years

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Flower from the Fae (ch 37)

Chapter Title: It's Not Wrong if Dee Finds it on the Internet!

Summary: Virgil likes plants, but when he goes to investigate a plant his friend, Remy, tells him about, he doesn’t exactly check out the plant. Little does he know that the handsome man he meets there is a fairy who is about to challenge the world Virgil knows.

Word Count: 2777

Chapter Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit, Sympathetic Remus, cursing, disappearance discussion, (let me know if you need anything tagged, PLEASE)

Chapter Pairings: LAMP, Demus, Sleep/Picani

AO3 Link My Writing

A/N: this is chapter 37, so read the first chapter here!

Dee shifted the box once again. “I’m not getting in one of those ten-ton metal death traps again, Remy. Remus and I have managed quite well over the past seven years without using a car. You’re just whining to be annoying.”

“I never said you had to get in the car. All I said was that we could have put all the research into this woman you collected in the car so we didn’t have to carry it all.” Remy answered, opening the front door.

“Ladies, lord, and non-binary royalty watch me as I beat this geek and do it joyously!”

The two froze as they watched the Fae prince attempted to rap, getting into his advisor’s face. Once the prince finished his attempt, the advisor adjusted his glasses before launching into his turn without missing a single beat. Dee lost his grip on the box, shocked that this nerdy fairy was capable of destroying his prince so easily.

Do any of my friends have a single brain cell to their name? Dee couldn’t help but wonder as the spectators burst into cheers.

“Do we even want to know how this ended up happening?” Dee finally asked, shutting the door behind him.

“Remus showed Logan and Roman Epic Rap Battles of History. Princey then challenged Specs and got destroyed.” Virgil answered, grinning.

Logan blushed as he adjusted his glasses again. “It is of no matter.”

“What took the two of you so long! You asked us to come over like 5ever ago!” Roman gratefully jumped on the distraction from his shock.

“Had to carry half of Dee’s library over here,” Remy whined, dumping the box they were carrying onto the table.

“Why didn’t you just have us meet you at your place?” Virgil asked.

Dee glanced at Remus, who at least looked sheepish. “A Remus-mess. He found your edible glue recipe and attempted to make it.”

“But, you literally only mix the powder into water. How… Nope. Don’t want to know.”

“Could the two of you not have just driven over?” Logan asked.

“Dee and I don’t drive or ride in cars since the crash that hurt my brain and took DeeDee’s parents,” Remus answered.

“Did you two pick up the dye?” Virgil asked, cutting off Logan from asking more questions.

Remy tossed a bag towards the anxious man. “Purple and toxic green, as requested. Don’t stain our kitchen, again.”

“Alright, Remus, let’s do this!” Virgil said, grinning.

Remus was on his feet grinning. “Finally! I’m going to be a green crayon!”

“Have fun, boys!” Remy laughed as the two went into the kitchen. “Do you want to wait until they’re done to discuss Karen, or start talking?”

“Who’s Karen?” Pat asked Logan.

Logan looked uncomfortable. “Uh… well… I guess we can start… with something I didn’t tell the two of you about…”

Logan explained to the room about what happened with the woman. Once the half that hadn’t heard it originally were done asking what questions they had for him, they moved onto discussing what Remy had uncovered from investigating her dreams, which was very little.

“Other than the fact that the person did tell her what to do to rid herself of the magic, it’s just a catfish scam.” Remy ended.

“I disagree. I found the forum where she was looking for solutions to her blurting-out problem.” Dee said, pulling a paper from the stacks he had.

Roman looked at the other papers. “Are all of these from your investigation into this woman?”

“Yes.”

Emile shifted uncomfortably. “I really don’t like digging into someone’s life like this without their permission. Knowing your skill, we could be in some serious legal trouble if someone found out about any of this.”

Dee considered comforting the uncomfortable therapist by reassuring him that the personal identification he had on her was safely locked in his bag. He managed to keep himself from doing so, realizing that it would not, in fact, comfort the therapist knowing that Dee had managed to get Karen Smith’s social security number, a couple of credit card numbers, and some other serious information. He decided to just keep his mouth shut, which seemed to only tell the therapist what he wasn’t saying.

“DEE!”

“It’s really a good thing I found them! I pulled them off the internet for her. She should be grateful!”

“You’re going to get all of us into so much trouble if someone finds out!”

“Sure, Virgil gets to take a non-service animal into any and every store without you complaining, despite that breaking a ton of rules and laws, but I get the lecture.”

“Galaxy sits in silence in a bag or coat when she does go into a place! She doesn’t get into trouble like this!”

“And this information was just floating around on the internet! I didn’t do anything illegal to get it!”

“Having it is probably enough, Dee!”

Remy rolled their eyes as Dee and Emile started to really get into it. Emile was chill with a lot, but he drew the line when it came to illegal stuff. They glanced into the kitchen where they could see Remus and Virgil making a point to ignore the screaming from the living room as Virgil dyed Remus’s mustache.

“AH SNAKE!” Remy suddenly had their arms full of the Prince of the Fae, shaking and screaming.

“RUDE!”

“Not you!”

Logan sighed as he scooped up a small green snake off of the carpet. “I believe Roman means this snake, shifter. Though his reaction was a bit extreme.”

“Sally!”

“Alright, everyone just take a deep breath,” Remy announced as they dumped the prince onto the couch. “We’ve got more important things to discuss, over all this screaming at each other. Dee, take your green noddle from Logan and sit back down. Emile, we all know Dee has quite a bit of illegal information, so we can discuss it’s proper disposal after we discuss this Karen issue. If he thought it was important enough to print out, then we’ll hear him out.”

Logan handed over the small green snake. “I do have to say that this is an impressive amount of work done in the past three days, Dee. Sometime later, I would like to discuss your research methods, if you don’t mind.”

“Later,” Remy stated. “Now, what were you getting ready to show us, Dee?”

“First,” Dee answered before calling out. “Virgil, you still listening in?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Has Karen asked you for any herbs recently?”

“Uh… no, I don’t think so. It’s kind of unusual for someone to come ask me for any herbs directly. Only Sharon asks me directly.”

“Has she asked for some unusual herbs compared to normal?”

“Uh…” there was a pause. “Actually, yeah. If I remember correctly, she had some print out about new aromatherapy she wanted to try. I don’t remember the common herbs she needed but she did need Mugwort, Mullein, and Vervain. Normally, it’s stuff like lavender or basil or whatever. Why?”

Dee looked over the paper in his hand, muttering the three herbs to himself. “I found a forum post were Karen was given essentially a potion to, and I quote, ‘erase all traces of negative energy and mind tricks’. She had posted a couple of days later that it worked. There’s a whole list of herbs she’d need but a lot of them can be bought from the store. Take a guess what three herbs she could not buy from the store?”

“So, we have the answer to how she doesn’t have a trace of Logan’s magic,” Remy commented. “But, I wouldn’t have had to help you lug two-ton boxes of papers over here if there weren’t something else.”

“Well, the box you brought is…”

“Is?”

Dee awkwardly coughed out “…for Logan.”

“What’s in it?” Remy demanded, glancing at the box.

“Explanation of how this worked. I…uh… figured the pest would… like… to know how…”

“Aw, you do care.” Logan shouldn’t have managed to say that with as straight a face as he did, Dee thought.

“Whatever, pest.” He waved at the box he’d brought. “This is my research into who gave Karen the spell, a.k.a. her new boyfriend.”

“Which does not sound good,” Virgil called from the kitchen.

“That’s one way to put it,” Dee stated. “I agree with Remy that this person is definitely catfishing, but I disagree that it’s only for her money or whatever catfishers go for.”

Dee started to layout papers across the floor. “Logan, I asked you for specific files on a couple of fairies. Did you bring them?”

“You asked a fairy for something?” Remy feigned a gasp.

“For the rabbit hole I found myself going down, I’d make a deal myself for this information, so shut up,” Dee stated, accepting a folder from Logan.

He quickly read over the ten different missing beings cases. He pulled the papers out and added them to another stack he started to layout on the floor. Watching the shifter, both Remy and Logan paled, seeing what Dee was laying out.

“Geez, this looks like one of Remus’s murder maps for his novels.”

Dee looked up to see Remus and Virgil looking over the mass of paper. Virgil’s head was purple while Remus had a green head and, great magic help Dee, a green mustache. Dee nodded, solemnly as he took a seat on the couch, looking over the web of papers.

Logan looked at the shifter. “Let me get this straight. You are suggesting that this single account has sought out signs of supernatural from superstitious middle-aged women online and is the reason for their disappearances?”

“I’m not suggesting it, pest. The proof is right in front of you. The files you brought align with some records attached to the account early on. It all makes sense, and this comes from someone who proof-reads murder mystery novels for their feasibility.”

Roman eyed Dee, uncertainly. “I do not trust you, shifter. You are too knowledgeable about this kind of stuff.”

“Good because I do not like you pests.”

“Wait, Lo,” Virgil said, diving for one of the pages. “Avery. She was…”

“Yeah, I noticed that as well, Vee.”

Remy looked between the two of them. “What’s this about?”

Virgil took a slow breath before answering. “You asked why I was off a couple of days ago. Mothman, a.k.a. Robert told Logan and me a rumor about a green and purple-eyed woman who supposedly committed a number of atrocities in the Realm of the Fae. One of the fairies supposedly killed in that mess was this woman: Avery Green.”

“Well, if Dee is correct in his massive amount of research, she was not killed in the mess we’ve been looking into,” Logan said, looking at Virgil. “Three others are also laid out here, meaning four names were not killed in those attacks. That is finally something we can work with.”

“Uh… guys?” Emile said, reminding the beings that he was still here. “Shouldn’t we be worried that this account may be coming here? There is quite a bit of evidence suggesting that we should be worried.”

Dee cleared his throat uncomfortably. “If we all plan to keep Virgil safe, yes, we should.”

“Wait, why only me?” he asked.

“Hunters do not go after sandme-sand beings, so Remy is relatively safe. So long as I do not shift any time soon, there will be little pointing towards me. These posts discuss you and Logan, so whoever is behind these will be coming for the two of you. You are in the most danger as you can roam from the fairy circles whenever you want while Logan can just remain in his own realm.”

“OK, what if I stay in the Realm of the Fae until this mess is over with?”

“You cannot do so just yet,” Logan said, wincing at his own words. “Unfortunately, you still need to develop more of your own magic and we have to strengthen the bond between the four of us before it is feasible for you to stay extended periods within our realm. Essentially, building up a long-term tolerance for our realm, so to say.”

Remy looked at the fairy. “Sending him away does sound like a possible solution, though.”

“Dee as well.” Remus suddenly piped in.

“What.”

“I’m sorry, DeeDee, but I want you to be safe,” Remus said, softly. “If this is all true, even if you don’t shift, you’ll still have touches of magic that a trained hunter will know to look for.”

“He is correct, Dee,” Patton answered, looking uncomfortable with all of this. “While you may not be as much of a target as Virgil or us, if a hunter does come, you will still be in danger.”

“So, the three of you will have to leave,” Emile said, sadly looking at his partner.

“Excuse me, three?” Remy asked, shocked. “Hunters do not play with sand beings, Em. I’ll be fine. Plus, I technically can’t leave my post out here, not for that long. We can discuss this once Vee and Dee are out and safe.”

“Remy…”

“Emile, my leaving will cause trouble. Hunters know sand beings are vital to the sleep cycle of life, so they do not attack us. I will be fine. I can start some paperwork stuff for time-off request or whatever, but that will take time and for now, we need to focus on the actual targets claimed in the posts. Logan, how long until you think Virgil can jump circles properly on his own?”

“We were actually going to have him test that tomorrow,” Logan answered. “Why?”

Remy nodded. “We’ll make sure he can travel through them on his own first. I know a deal-style thing that will allow Dee to jump circles with Virgil, but it will not allow him to travel into your realm proper.”

“But, that’s not possible…” Roman answered, surprised. “Only fae and their witches can use the circles.”

“Correct, for the most part. Witches can use the circles for transport once they enter a deal. Companions, particularly of the animal kind, are capable of traveling with a witch, though. Did you never question how Gala was capable of going on your adventures?”

“Remy, I am not making a deal with those flying rats,” Dee stated.

Remy rolled their eyes. “And you won’t be. You’ll be entering a deal with a witch, who is our best friend.”

“So, after that? What?” Virgil demanded. “Dee and I just start our lives over somewhere else until we get a message from you lot saying that it’s safe to return when its entirely possible that that message will never be possible?”

“Until we can figure out how to keep the two of you safe,” Remy stated. “You’ll still be able to talk with your cuties, Virgil.”

“And I just have to leave my husband, friends, and snakes behind?” Dee demanded.

“Dee, please. I can watch over the snakes.” Remus said, softly, not looking at his husband. “We can still call and video chat and whatever. I know this feels like an attack on your pride, Dee, but please. I would rather make do with a long-distance relationship over having to… having to… Dee, please.”

“Ree, I can’t… I can’t just leave you.”

“Dee, I know that I can’t control my impulsiveness or words or not act upon even the weirdest idea that crosses my mind. But I’ll have Remy and Emile still. They can help keep me safe while you are away. I nearly lost you once, I can’t… not again. And this time, your dad won’t be at my side squashing any thought that you might not make it. Please, Dee.”

Could Dee really argue with him? Remus was nearly in tears with a green mustache drooping as it dyed. Yet, Dee also didn’t know how to function anymore without this chaotic being in his life. They’d been best friends since elementary school and married for the past seven years. How could he just leave?

Dee shut his eyes, trying not to cry as he answered. “You two bastards better keep a good eye on my idiot of a husband. Do you understand? If he’s hurt… a damn hunter will be nothing compared to me.”

“Of course, Dee. He can even take over our spare room.” Emile answered, wanting to ease Dee’s pain at this decision.

“It’s not goodbye just yet. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow, before goodbye.” Remy stated. “Now, will you two idiots go wash out your hair? It’s been like an hour. I’ve already dealt with in-too-long hair once. I’m not playing that game again.”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @that-one-nb-kid, @hufflepuffxfox

#Flower from the Fae #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #deceit #remus #tw cursing #tw disappearances #Sage writes

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mobius-prime · 4 years

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204. Sonic the Hedgehog #136

The Tommy Trilogy (Part Two): The Infiltrator

Writer: Romy Chacon Pencils: Art Mawhinney Colors: Jason Jensen

It's been at least a few days since Sonic rescued Tommy, and in that time, he's invited Tommy to live with him, his parents, and Tails in their house. One morning, the house awakens without Sonic, as he was out overnight on a mission for the king. As Bernie serves everyone some food, Sonic walks in, completely exhausted from his mission. He scarfs down a plate of chili dogs and eggs (his favorite breakfast, apparently) and heads back to his room, with his parents disappointed in his rudeness by not saying thank you. Tails heads out to classes, as he's still attending school, and Tommy refuses any food, instead seeming much more interested in Sonic.

Jules glances around as he tries to make Bernie feel better, only to notice that Tommy has also excused himself without a word. Man, so much rudeness going around the Hedgehog residence today! Tommy quietly enters Sonic's room, where Sonic has passed out on his bed without even taking his shoes off, and his expression changes. The fingers on his hand peel back to reveal twin metal drills, and they whir to life, coming closer and closer to Sonic's unconscious head… and then Jules bursts in, having realized what was happening. Yeah, didn't think Tommy was actually alive and well, did you?

Oh, that's… that's bad. Sonic spins up and cuts through the Tommy robot's midsection, obliterating it before it can try to murder anybody else, and picks up his father's body in a panic. He and his mother rush Jules to Uncle Chuck, certain that he can repair him - after all, what might be a fatal wound on an organic being is just a matter of repair on a robot, right? Chuck examines Jules' body, but then to Sonic and Bernie's horror, sadly proclaims that even if he could fix Jules' body, the spark of life that made him a living person is gone - that Sonic's father is… dead.

…but ah, come on, we don't really believe that, do we? It was on the cover, for goodness' sake! No big emotional moment like this would just be spoiled on the cover if it was going to stick! Sonic, therefore, refuses to believe his uncle and rushes out, heading straight for the nearby Lake of Rings. Someone is there on guard duty - apparently, the royal family has someone watching the lake at all times to catch and collect the rings that emerge each day - but today he misses his catch, as Sonic flashes past in the blink of an eye to catch the ring, immediately turning back around to take it back to Chuck's lab.

Aaaaand it works! Seriously, apparently that's all it takes to bring a dead person back to life. If rings can heal someone so miraculously, then why aren't they being used for everything in this universe?! Even a straight-up Chaos Emerald can't do that! Ah, whatever, Jules isn't dead, so everything is fine. The next day, Chuck is dismantling the Tommy robot while he and Sonic chat, and finds a chip in his systems imprinted with the name of the factory that he was produced at - Robodyne Systems in New Megaopolis. This is enough to convince Sonic that Tommy must in fact still be alive after all, and that he has to go save him again but for real this time! Seriously, how many times is Tommy going to be dead but not actually before we finally pick one or the other? He's like Schrödinger's Turtle at this point.

Mobius 25 Years Later: Girl Talk

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Steven Butler Colors: Jason Jensen

Yes, the title does in fact foreshadow how bad this story is gonna be. Right off the bat we find out that Julie-Su's household has a literal servant, a koala named Abby. Abby is perhaps one of the most uncomfortable characters ever introduced in the comic, as she's this like… vaguely racist caricature that somewhat resembles the "mammy" stereotype of black female slaves in America's history. Seriously, it's so bad, all she does is crankily putter around the house cooking and cleaning and serving food to others while complaining whenever anyone sets foot in "her kitchen," while everyone around her just kind of shakes their head and laughs at her attitude and lets her take care of things around the house. I mean… why does this house even need a maid in the first place? These two literally have one kid and apparently Julie-Su doesn't even have a job outside the home. What does she do all day if Abby is taking care of things?

Anyway, Sally calls Julie-Su to talk about their families' upcoming dinner date, by which I mean they basically just mid-40's mom at each other about how their kids are such picky eaters, and their husbands are so unreasonable and bad at getting along. The most interesting thing we even learn is the timeline of when and how Sonic became king.

Sally goes on about how her and Sonic's two kids aren't really interested in being royalty, when their conversation is interrupted by Lien-Da's call. There's literally an entire page where they kind of bumble around while Julie-Su tries to make sure everyone is okay with a three-way call, during which we learn that apparently Lien-Da is the freaking representative of the echidna government to the Kingdom of Acorn. What the actual hell? How did Lien-Da of all people end up with this job?! Everyone keeps going on and on about how untrustworthy she is, and yet she's trusted to be the liaison between two entire governments, including the one she openly opposed and attacked multiple times in the past?! Nothing in this world makes any sense at all!

We get some more riveting dialogue once Lara-Su enters the room, about how apparently Manik, who is ten years old, has a major crush on her. Lara-Su is mortified, the adults are amused, and we the readers have by now died of boredom. It takes us this long for everyone to finally manage to mention something about the actual plot - you know, that whole thing about how the world might be ending? Of course, they don't know what's going on, so all we get is more vague speculation about the weather, AKA stuff we've already covered more than once before now and so has no real bearing on the storyline.

So, given how much the last issue seemed to be building up towards Lien-Da having some dastardly plan involving Julie-Su and Knuckles based on the tiny snippet of info she got from Rutan, you'd think this is the moment where she invites herself along, right? It's a chance to get inside the Guardian's own house, poke around, and get herself involved in whatever suspicious thing they're trying to discuss in private, right? But naaaahhhh, she just says that she can't make it and signs right off! What then, pray tell, was the point of all this? This arc literally has more plot holes than the rest of the comic combined! Absolutely nothing was accomplished here! Any good writer will tell you that you should never include a scene in your writing that doesn't further the plot in some way. Even a simple scene of two characters hanging out at an amusement park, completely unconnected with whatever else is going on in their lives, can be spun in a way that gives us more insight into their personalities, their relationship with one another, their outlooks on life and the thoughts that they find themselves entertaining when not directly confronted with whatever the conflict of the story is. And yet, this story does none of those things. It's literally just a bunch of dull characters yakking at each other about grown-up stuff while reiterating things we've already heard from others. Literally the only thing in this issue that ever comes up again is Manik's crush on Lara-Su, but I can tell you right now that that also has no bearing on the larger plot of the story, meaning we didn't even need to hear it in the first place! Argh, this is the most frustrating and boring thing I've ever had the displeasure of reading in this comic! The characters are flat and uninteresting, the writing is bland, and the parts of the plot that actually do have the potential to be interesting are skipped over in favor of dull family drama! Why, Ken Penders? Why? WHY?!

Patience

Writer: Romy Chacon Pencils: Ron Lim Colors: Jensen

Oh, finally, something interesting! Though granted, anything would be more interesting than what we just read. Knuckles has found himself stationed in Downunda on orders from the king, but after realizing that he's a mere twenty miles away from where Angel Island will travel, he makes his way to a high peak at sunset, determined to finally climb his way back onto the island and retake it from Eggman's forces. Interestingly, his dialogue seems to imply that the island orbits the planet once a year, which is something that I mentioned before the other information we've been given about the island hadn't included. Nice to finally have an answer on that one! Knuckles is somewhat conflicted, as the king has asked him in the past to have patience and not be rash, that he'll muster the forces to retake Angel Island as soon as he can, but they can't risk anything until then. However, the temptation is still strong, as this may be Knuckles' only chance to get back aboard the island now that he can no longer glide without his Chaos powers.

Honestly, that's a good reason to want to get back aboard. Eggman tends to bring horrific devastation wherever he goes, and Angel Island was never prepared for an invasion on the scale he'd bring. Hell, at the beginning of the last era, we saw the Brotherhood actively reject Sally's request to help the Kingdom of Acorn in the war, and now the citizens of the island are paying the price for that hubris. The last time we saw Lara-Le, she was pregnant, and well, when we left the island it was also in a very unstable state politically as the government was under fire from both the Dark Legion and the dingoes. I'm not surprised that it got taken over, but it's a tragedy that it did all the same. Knuckles waits eagerly as the island gets closer, but the voice of the king echoes in his mind once again, warning him away. The island finally comes close enough to the peak, and Knuckles reaches out… and brushes his fingertips against it, letting it gently float away without grabbing hold. He acknowledges it's one of the hardest things he's ever done, but he decides to trust the king for now, and turns away, letting the island continue its journey uninterrupted. And a good thing, too - as we see that a whole legion of swatbots was waiting in camouflage in some bushes next to the island's edge, ready to blast Knuckles into oblivion the moment he came over the edge. Looks like patience did pay off after all, huh buddy? Honestly, given Knuckles' famously brash and impatient personality, I love this story just for the sense of character development it has, showing that over the past year Knuckles has grown a bit, become more mature. It's certainly better than the previous story portrayed him.

#nala reads archie sonic preboot #archie sonic #archie sonic preboot #sonic the hedgehog #sth 136 #writer: romy chacon #writer: ken penders #pencils: art mawhinney #pencils: steven butler #pencils: ron lim #colors: jason jensen

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mst3kproject · 5 years

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802: The Leech Woman - Part I

I tend to get all social-justice-y on this blog, so it will probably come as a surprise to you that I kinda like this movie. I won’t pretend for a moment that The Leech Woman is not stupid and offensive, but something about it absolutely fascinates me.

Dr. Paul Talbot, an endocrinologist, is searching for a cure for Old. This is at least partly because it will make him ludicrously rich, but also because his wife June has turned forty and he’s no longer attracted to her. An old woman, Malla, tells the Talbots that her people, the Nando, know the secret of renewed youth. They therefore follow her to Fake Africa where they learn that the Cure for Old has two ingredients: the pollen of a rare orchid, and a human pineal gland, scooped from a still-living brain. Is June willing to commit murder in order to be young and beautiful again? You bet your sweet booty she is!

I was kind of surprised when my word processor didn’t underline ‘Nando’. I googled it, and apparently Nando’s is a South African restaurant famous for their ‘Peri-Peri Chicken.’ You learn something every day.

This movie is gross on so many levels. It hates everybody. Its ‘Africans’ are primitive mystics in loincloths and skull headdresses, its women are domineering and predatory, its men abusers, criminals, and dull-ass ciphers. I hardly know where to start. In fact, the badness of The Leech Woman is so complex and pervasive that I think we’ve got another multi-part series here. In this review, I’m going to talk about the characters. Next week, I’ll go on to other stuff.

The Leech Woman is, of course, not the first movie I’ve watched in which there is no hero… but I’m not just talking about this being another film in which the so-called ‘hero’ doesn’t do anything. This is more like The Amazing Transparent Man in that there is literally nobody in the film who can be described as ‘good’. It’s not a movie about good overcoming evil, it’s a movie about evil destroying itself. That’s probably part of the reason why I find it so interesting, as it’s an unusual way to approach a narrative, and The Leech Woman shows an astonishing amount of commitment to it. We’ve seen a number of movies on MST3K where the good guys really aren’t important but there’s still somebody, usually a dull cop or reporter, who theoretically fills that role. The Leech Woman doesn’t even have one of those.

Let’s take a look at our cast, shall we? We’ve basically got six important characters: Paul and June Talbot, David the jungle guide, Malla, Neil the lawyer, and Neil’s fiancée Sally. I think I’ll start with the men. They’re all terrible.

The first character who speaks is Paul, and the first thing he says is to insult his wife, sneering at her about her drinking. The conversation that follows tells us not only that they hate each other, but that Paul seems to have married June primarily so he could experiment on her, and is pissed that she doesn’t want to let him. Then while June is hurt, drunk, and vulnerable, he goes from insulting her to fawning over her, softening her up so that he can return to emotionally abusing her later. When, on the trip to Africa, she accuses him of ignoring her, he tells her she’s imagining it. He’s also deeply unprofessional at work, insulting and scoffing at Malla when she’s there in response to his request for research subjects.

Of course, Paul is a villain in this story. We’re glad to see him go, and the nice irony of him not living to see June rejuvenated is one of the few things The Leech Woman does right. His detestable traits are so cartoonishly overblown, though, that it’s really hard to take him seriously as a character. Paul comes across more than anything else as a plot device, a necessary stepping stone for June to come into contact with the Nando and their youth pollen. Once he’s served that purpose he’s no longer needed. Nobody misses him, and June never shows the slightest trace of regret, immediately attaching herself to David instead.

David starts off seeming like a slightly better person than Paul, since he treats June like a human being and attempts to offer her some actual comfort after she fights with her husband. Then he goes steadily downhill. He steals the youth pollen and the ring at a moment when he should be worrying about them getting out of there alive, and then when June ages again, he not only refuses to give them to her, he runs away. I guess he’s supposed to do this because he realizes he’s the only person around she could tap for pineal juice, but at this point we have no evidence that she’s willing to do that. She didn’t even watch while the Nando killed Paul. Instead, it looks for all the world like David runs because he’s physically repulsed by her, or because he’s afraid she’s going to infect him with Old.

Finally, there’s Neil. I think we’re supposed to like Neil… I think we’re supposed to see him as a nice guy destroyed by a scheming woman, but the truth is that Neil destroys himself. The moment he sees young June, in her disguise as ‘Terri’, come up to him, he throws all decency out the window and practically follows her around drooling for the rest of the movie. When his fiancée points out, understandably, that this is unacceptable behaviour, he treats her exactly as Paul had treated June, telling her that she’s imagining things. All these things stack up against us liking Neil, and he displays no redeeming qualities to offset then… in fact, other than being easily led by his dick, he has no qualities at all. He’s a cardboard cutout with ‘handsome guy’ written on it.

Of course, none of these men are a point-of-view character in the story. The Leech Woman is a story about women, so how about them? Well, unsurprisingly they’re terrible too. Malla uses the Talbots to get her back to Africa and then tries to have them killed, and clearly has no problem with the whole ‘a man must die to make her young’ thing. The Nando as a culture are used to this idea, but Malla didn’t grow up with that – she was raised in the west, where people would definitely not be okay with it. If the men were shown to be willing sacrifices this might not be quite so bad (although it still wouldn’t be okay), but no, the guy we see is struggling as he’s held down and drugged.

As for Sally, the movie evidently wants us to think she’s a nagging harpy. It doesn’t quite succeed, because of the way Neil drools after ‘Terri’. Sally has every right to be worried, impatient, and annoyed, especially when he brushes off her concerns the way he does. Instead, what’s terrible about Sally is the way she offhandedly threatens Neil (“you better not try anything like that if you want to stay in one piece”) and seems to view him as a possession rather than a partner. When he admits he prefers ‘Terri’, Sally’s plan is to send this woman away until she and Neil can marry, as if signing his name to the paperwork means he can never escape from her again. He belongs to her now. She has a receipt.

I assume that Neil and Sally met through Paul, but until the point where they turn up at the airport, we never see them together and have no indication they know each other exists. The impression I get is that the Bride of Neil was originally going to be a different character, but they couldn't afford another actress.

Then there’s June. The Leech Woman is obviously her story – she’s in almost every scene, and is the one with a bit of a character arc. It’s possible that we see Paul as unsubtly evil and Sally as a paranoid bitch because that’s how June sees them. If anybody’s the protagonist, it’s her, but she is never, ever likable even in a villainous sort of way. We root for her to destroy Paul because we hate him too, but everything she does is awful and like the other characters, she doesn’t have any good characteristics to offset it.

When we first meet her, she’s a self-pitying drunk. She is so badly-treated by Paul that by the time it looks like she’s going to have him killed and run off with David, we’re all for it. Then her downhill spiral begins as she murders David for his pineal. This is supposed to be a surprise and a demonstration that June is irredeemable, and it works as far as it goes, but it leaves us with no interest in her affair with Neil. We don’t root for them to get together because it’s obviously impossible, and we cannot believe that this is some great tragic love when they’ve only just met. It’s just a couple of selfish idiots being selfish idiots.

After the way Paul has treated June, we understand why she enjoys seeing men doing her bidding. She’s always been ignored and disregarded, so she derives great joy from being able to make people pay attention. She uses beauty to wrap Neil around her little finger, and wealth to do the same to the would-be robber. She knows she’s ruining Neil’s life by seducing him as ‘Terri’, and she seems positively gleeful about that. The problem is that she’s not really trying to accomplish anything through this manipulation. She has no long-term plan, it’s just all-out hedonism, and when she finds herself cornered, she commits suicide. June never learns anything from any of this, and nobody else learns anything from her. At the end, she’s just pointlessly destroyed a number of lives, including her own, and it’s hard to say what the audience is supposed to take from that.

And man, that’s just the dramatis personae! I have way more to complain about in The Leech Woman, so stay tuned. Next week I’ll be back in SJW mode with a vengeance. See you then!

#mst3k #reviews #leech woman #tw: abuse #boy are we in africa!#60s

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