#also where even is Christine buried

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

Howdy Howdy! 🫶❤️

Between Riot and Ghost who would be the first to lend their jacket to the other when it’s cold out? Which would peel the other’s orange if asked? :0

Love youuuu @vasyandii sorry for the time it took me to answer this <3 I'm writing this on a whim because I got inspired right now, so it's unchecked and unedited

Tagging my usuals that asked just because I love them <;3 @glitterypirateduck @jamesrifftapes @sofasoap @mmyrrhh

It was late December and snowflakes were slowly falling down on the streets of Hereford, a chilly winter wind rolling between the buildings. Crowds of people were roaming the shops, making late purchases or exchanging the gifts received in Christmas.

''How many shops are we going to visit today?''

''As many as I need so I can find all the ingredients I want''

Ghost shook his head slowly, dutifully following the blonde spitfire walking in front of him, looking down at the notebook in her hand while crossing out the items that they had already bought and that he was carrying in several bags.

Riot didn't look up even when a group of distracted people almost stumbled upon her, and Ghost gently grabbed her elbow to steer her away from their path. She didn't look up even then, completely trusting him to keep her safe and on her path to the next shop.

''You're gonna get run over, lovie''

''Pfft, as if you were going to allow it'' Christine answered cheekily, with a tiny smile that was hidden by her mask but the smiling wrinkles on the corner of her eyes betrayed her. Ghost rolled his eyes, with his own fond smile hidden by his balaclava, and followed her inside the next deli shop.

By the time they had almost finished their shopping, the temperature had dropped and the snowfall was getting heavier, so they decided to grab a takeaway coffee in the nearest coffee shop ands wait for the snow to clear a bit before going back to the car.

Standing side by side under the portico of a building, the bags stored behind them and against the wall, they observed in comfortable silence the snowflakes falling onto the pavement, sipping their coffee.

Both were clad in heavy coats and gloves, and Christine was also wearing a tartan scarf that Soap had gifted her on Christmas ignoring her protests. Still, she was so cold she couldn't help but shiver when another boost of chilly breeze rolled down the street. Seeing this, Simon started to lower the zipper of his jacket.

''Don't you dare'' She looked up at him, frowning, her mask tucked below her chin to be able to sip the coffee while his balaclava was hooked over his nose. ''You'll freeze''

''You're freezing now, doll'' Simon ignored her protests and unzipped the garment all the way, but before he could take it off she moved between his arms, against his chest, and snuggled into the open borders of the jacket, circling his waist with her free arm as she held her coffee cup with one hand.

He stood there, still for a moment and wondering how in the Earth she could protest about everything and anything and then just fix it right away, and with a low, rumbling chuckle, closed his arms around her, holding her close and resting his chin on her head.

''Well, this works too'' He murmured, and felt her shake lightly against his chest, but with laughter.

''As if you didn't know the good ideas are always mine'' Christine raised her head to look up at him, comfortable in the safe refuge of his arms, and smiled at him. Simon grinned back.

Neither of them were fans of PDA when they were out and about with the others, feeling awkward and self-conscious, but in a town (although it was the nearest to the base) where nobody knew them? Fair game. With decent limits of course.

''You're going to catch a cold if you keep trying to give me your jacket in this weather...'' She murmured against his chest, her cheek right below his heartbeat, steady and firm. His mouth and nose were buried in her hair now.

''Well, it's a risk I'll have to take''

''Right, because if you're sick you're a joy to deal with...'' Christine giggled, remembering the mild cold Simon had caught at the start of the month and that rendered the stern Lieutenant insufferable for two whole days.

''I didn't ask you to fuss over me, lovie'' Simon shrugged, and flinched when she bit him over his jumper. ''What was that for??''

''It's not fussing over you, you stupid oaf'' She looked up at him, frowning. ''I made you soup, knitted you a scarf, that you don't use by the way, kept Johnny away so he wouldn't bother you, peeled the damn orange you asked for in the middle of the night, and still you think I'm fus...''

Simon cut her rant short by simply tilting her chin up and bending down to cover her mouth with his, chuckling. It always worked like a charm, like when it was the other way round and she kissed him to shut him up when he was ranting away about anything.

They kissed like two teenagers in the portico while the snow kept falling over the streets, the wind rolling between the buildings, the crowds roaming the shops.

#simon ghost riley x christine riot vega #christine riot vega #simon ghost riley #ghost riley #riot vega #cod mw2 #cod oc #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod original character #call of duty original character #cod fanfic #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfiction #cod fic #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty fic #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #mw2 ghost #call of duty oc

[dross-the-fish]

Hello, I love your artwork and your characterisation, the former is gorgeous and the latter is compelling. I was wondering what are the big regrets of the characters/what action/s of their haunt them the most.

Thank you! I had to think about it a bit but here are the biggest regrets for some of our crew members. Edward/Henry: really depends on what form he's in, Henry has a lot of regrets about the things Edward does but once he's Edward he's not really sorry anymore. There is one regret that's universal and that's how much he's lied to Utterson and hidden from him and causing Lanyon's death. Fucking up his best and only friendships will haunt him forever. Erik: regrets everything he's done to Christine, he's not really over her but he recognizes the hurt he caused and he actually does feel sorrow over hurting her. Adam: Regrets every life he's taken. Regrets pursuing Victor when he should have just given up and tried to make his own way. He struggles with vengeful urges and tries to resist them now but the deaths of William, Justine, Henry, Elizabeth and Victor weigh on him heavily and he'll always feel grief when he remembers them. Lawrence: regrets saving that woman from the werewolf, regrets not being nicer to his parents when he had them, regrets not telling them he loved them. He struggles every day to live with the knowledge that his first transformation cost him his entire family.

Selma: Regrets both of her marriages, even if she liked her second husband in the beginning, it wasn't enough, she was not made to be someone's wife and the relationship wasn't worth burying a stillborn child. She regrets walking out on him while he was still grieving and she regrets feeling conflicted about motherhood but even if she feels she didn't do the morally right thing she did the correct thing by disappearing.

Theo: Theo has days where she wishes Varney had let her perish because being a vampire brings her a lot of suffering but she can't really regret being alive. She does regret that she cut off what few friends and family after her turning, without giving them a chance to understand what happened, but she also feels she didn't have much choice in the matter. She regrets her moments of cowardice where she didn't step in to help someone who needed her because she was too afraid for herself.

[christinesficrecs]

Helloo christine! happy holidays i love love love your blog it definitely is a blessing in my life. do u happen to know any good longish fics where stiles saves the hales from kate or even derek from paige’s death. Ive read Daybreak by obsidianquill and starcanopus and im dyyiiinggg i need more. Thanks in advance hope you have a great new year

Hey! Maybe these ones.

Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill | 70.3K | Mature

The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.

Find A Way by LLN3dseestheLight | 25.1K | Mature

Kate Argent came back to Beacon Hills and slaughter the Pack. Only Stiles and Lydia survived for the moment but thanks to Peter Hale they have a way to change that...by doing something very stupid.

A Time Travel spell... If it works... And it does in a way... but it also sent them to another reality as well.

Play It Again by metisket | 63.2K

In which Stiles goes along with one of Derek’s plans and ends up in an alternate universe as a result. He should’ve known better. He did know better, actually, and that means he has no one to blame but himself.

Spook: A Ghostly Love Story in Three Parts by zosofi | 38.1K

Derek is fifteen when he dies. He's been fifteen for six years when he meets Stiles. And then suddenly... suddenly things start looking up.

hope is the thing with feathers by ShanaStoryteller | 28.9K

Stiles is ten when he saves the Hales from their burning home and Derek from a wolfsbane bullet, and this establishes a pattern that seem to continue indefinitely.

Stiles plans are the worst (the best) by Dashar | 88.7K

Stiles world ended when his pack died. It didn’t exactly come as a surprise. He had been running with wolves for so long that within hunters and monsters it was just a matter of time. It was a surprise when the world ended too. And Stiles… Well, he had to do something about that.

When the Smoke Clears by Spikedluv | 15.7K

Beacon Hills is under attack from various supernatural creatures. Most of the town has been burned to the ground, and Stiles has lost everyone he loves. He attempts a time-travel spell even though Deaton has cautioned against it. In the past, he’ll need to save the Hale family so they can protect Beacon Hills. The only questions are, will he make it back in time, and will Talia Hale believe him?

Turn back time by A_pretty_good_pair | 49.7K

There's no one left. No one. Stiles decides in his grief to try and fix everything he did wrong the first time around. Will he be able to save everyone or will he relive the pain of losing them all once again?

One More Again by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere | 22.2K

When a strange man appears in the Hale Pack territory with an unusual proposition for Stiles and Lydia, Stiles is unable to resist going back in time to stop the Hale House fire.

Even after a few bumps in the road, Stiles finds himself in the past with one nearly-insurmountable goal - getting Talia Hale and the rest of her family to trust him with their lives.

Unfettered by Heizpilz | 70.4K

In the morning, Stiles simply doesn’t get up. What would be the point? Everything he cares about – everyone he cares about – is gone. Dead and buried, quite literally. True, there are some people left on the periphery of what was once his life, but he doesn’t give a flying fuck about them.

Now as Ever (All That Is and Has Been) by  venis_envy | 52.2K

Stiles can't remember what happened to rearrange the time-space continuum, or how he ended up being pulled into the past. All he knows is that he's there now, in 2003 Beacon Hills, with a teenage werewolf and a possibly-crazy veterinarian as his only allies.

#asks #sterek fics #ficrecs #time travel #stiles saves the hales

[dearmantis]

Horribly abominable and dreadful

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: The realization that Stephen would never love you back, no matter what universe, was too much to bear. 

Warnings: no happy ending

Word Count: 1k

Author’s Note: This is the most edgelord fake-deep thing I’ve ever written. It’s also not very good, but that’s not shocking. Take it as the insane, nonsensical ramblings of someone loosing their mind. I think that makes the most sense. There's also 100% typos and grammar mistakes in here I just haven't found them yet.

There was something horribly abominable and dreadful about the feelings that you buried in your chest.

Something awful and terrible, a strong contrast to the pure, undying love that you knew Stephen felt for Christine.

Jealousy was a beast that not even a trained sorcerer like you was able to fight off and defeat. The only thing you could do was wait and watch as the sharp, sticky feeling fed on your soul and hollowed you out until you were no longer sure where you ended and the empty void of the universe, the blackness between the stars, planets and other celestial bodies, began. 

Nothing good could come out of the cold, wretched monster that had found it’s way into your soul.

In a way you felt a weird sense of solidarity and empathy with Wanda. While you wouldn’t hunt down a child, you could definitely see yourself succumbing to the call of the Darkhold, if there were any left. 

This was in no way comparable to the heartbreaks you had in the past. There was nothing normal or healthy about the sensation filling your bones, pulling on your muscles, ripping on your nerves. 

Was this the feeling that had driven the other Strange into complete insanity? Into darkness and evil?

This hopelessness? 

You slowly moved to stand up from your bed, carefully stretching your tired muscles in hope of returning some form of feeling into your weakening body before your eyes found the mirror at the opposite side of the room. 

There was nothing about your appearance that exposed the horrid truth of your slowly rotting soul to the others. You felt like a monster- but you did not look like one. 

Not yet, a voice whispered, eerily similar to the voice of the Scarlet Witch.  

The magic humming in your body nurtured the dark feelings. It gave the energy that your soul couldn’t, not while you were suffering like this.

But no matter how tired, exhausted and sad you were, how strong you were grieving the love that couldn’t be because Stephen had to tether his soul to another for eternity-

Until the heat death of the universe

The destruction of the nexus

The fading of all eldritch magic

There was something flickering in your eyes, something new, visible, bright and strong in ways the rest of you hasn’t been since the scarlet witch fell, something that wasn’t in your eyes yesterday.

That spark was unfamiliar to you. It felt like you were possessed. Like it wasn’t you who was looking back at you in the mirror but whatever had entered your body last night in your sleep. 

The thing in the mirror looked like you, but you didn’t recognize it.  

When you finally managed to rip your eyes from the mirror and move out of your room, Wong found you. 

He couldn’t see the acid in your throat, the stinging curses on your lips, the poison running through your veins, the darkness in your lungs. He only saw you. You and the sadness you felt. 

For the first time since you had met Wong, he wasn’t able to see the truth as soon as he looked at you. Your suffering, the desperate fight you fought as you tried to swim against the tide, struggled to keep your head above the darkness drowning you from the inside, was hidden. 

“It’s nice to see you up” Wong said, a warmth in his voice that made you yearn for the time where you felt deserving of that tone. 

Before the Scarlet Witch and America.

Before the Spiderman incident.

Before the Snap.

Before the car crash that send Strange into the arms of the Ancient One and into your life.

“It’s nice to be back on my feet” You responded, forcing a neutral tone into your words even though all you wanted to do was scream until your throat was raw. “I really just want to get back to work and get my life back into movement. Can’t stay stagnant forever, right? We need every Sorcerer we can get.”

You wanted to work on something big, something that Stephen would usually be asked to do, because you needed to get the rotten magic out of your body, all of it. 

Purge it from your mortal body and your immortal soul and hopefully come out clean and new and reborn, free from the feelings that were slowly killing you. 

Because Stephen Strange would never love you. 

No matter how much you changed yourself, how much you bend your body until the bones broke and the skin ripped, you would never fit into his heart. 

Wongs request was simple. Find Strange and bring him back to the Sanctum because there was some development with Shang-Chi and the rings. 

You weren’t prepared to see Strange interact with a beautiful sorceress that radiated powerful magic like the sun radiated warmth and light, nor did you expect him to follow her into the portal with that look on his face. 

That confidence and mischief that was formerly reserved for you when you two went onto one of your many small, fun adventures that drove Wong absolutely insane with worry because of how stupidly dangerous they were. 

The rot in your soul grew. The darkness rose over your head. Your bones broke. Your skin ripped. Poison rushed through your veins. Jinxes laced your tongue. Death filled your lungs. 

There was no Darkhold left in this Multiverse but you felt like the pain that had build it’s nest in your body and soul could create a new one. 

One just for you and you alone, made from your magic, years of suffering and unrequited love that you had only been able to endure by telling yourself that he wasn’t ready... until you were proven wrong. He was ale to move on, was clearly planning to use that sorceress as help.

You simply weren’t good enough for him. Not here and not in any other universe.

Years wasted, energy wasted, love wasted. 

There was something horribly abominable and dreadful about the feelings that broke out of your chest and swallowed you whole until you lost yourself in their screaming power.

#stephen strange #dr strange #stephen strange x reader #dr strange x reader #multiverse of madness

[ichayalovesyou]

Carefully and Respectfully Attempting to Diffuse Concerns about Spock’s Orientation in SNW

I can’t pretend I haven’t been… heated, about this topic before. Partly because of my own Spock interpretations, partly because elements of this debate touch on sensitive elements of my queer identity. I also can’t pretend it hasn’t come back to bite me in the butt. So this is me trying to genuinely state my argument in a way relatively sympathetic to the opposite opinion. It also might be the last “long post/meta” piece I do on this topic for a little while. Full discussion under the cut.

Concern #1 : The current showrunners are being queerphobic.

My Argument: The current era of showrunners have shown that they don’t hate queer fans. They clearly obviously care about doing queer representation the right way. At the very least, they are not openly, adamantly against queer representation to the point where they let writers introduce many queer characters into the Trek universe.

They’ve Ret-queered two major characters already (7 of 9, Christine Chapel). The Kurtzman era of trek has had queer rep (of varying quality/gracefulness) since season one of Discovery. We’ve got Culber/Stamets, Seven/Raffi, Adira/Gray, Jessica/Beckett, Adira, Zero, and Captain Angel all use they/them pronouns. Gray Tal is a canonically transgender man! Melissa Navia has implied on Twitter that her character Erica Ortegas is some form of queer, at least in her interpretation. Which we might (and kinda have in Elysian Kingdom) end up seeing in canon. Especially since thus far in canon there have been moments that imply she may be attracted to Chapel or Una or both.

No one with a major production role in the new batch of Trek has (to my knowledge) deliberately spat in the face of Spirk or the idea Spock or Jim being queer as an interpretation. Something other Trek creators, like JJ Abrams or William Shatner absolutely have done. There’s no Rick Berman to deliberately wedge apart characters of the same sex that are being shipped. The one time the current showrunners seriously stumbled and everyone thought Discovery was about to do a “bury your gays” trope with Stamets and Culber. They “spoiled” the fact he was very much going to be back in season two to dissuade our fears.

No one has gotten laughed at, if anything every response I’ve seen has been respectful/acknowledging the history of K/S. Even if they don’t pursue directly it in the new batch of canon (which I don’t personally think they absolutely have to do) they’re not degrading the people who interpret Spock and Jim’s relationship as something not quite heterosexual.

Concern #2: Spock has always been gay/ace (any specific subdivision of queer), it’s basically canon! They’re taking that away from us!

My Argument: Spock being queer in any way, no matter what kind, has always been something up for interpretation. Something that the creators of Trek have been more receptive to than many, many other pop culture phenomena. Any interpretation of Spock’s implied orientation requires you to ignore at least some of the established canon.

I personally think a lot of fans (including myself in my own internalized bi/a-phobia and willingness to ignore canon elements) have hand waved certain canon things in TOS that Spock has said and done. Specifically regarding the women he has been interested in.

The real question is does a character “not being in their right mind” change their sexual/romantic orientation? Would Spock have been physically attracted to Leila at all if he was gay, even if the romantic feelings were imposed by the spores in This Side of Paradise? It’s hard to say. Did regressing back into ancient and unrepressed Vulcan emotions make Spock interested in women somehow? Or was his intense attraction to Zarabeth from All Our Yesterdays something else? What about the other times he’s flirted with women? Up to interpretation, all moments frequently ignored or explained away. “Spock’s got serious game with women, he can’t possibly be gay.”

What about the interpretation that he is straight? You would have to ignore a LOT of text to draw that conclusion too. For one, you’d have to ignore Amok Time’s deeper message. And every time Jim and Spock chose each other over whatever love interest of the week they had. Every longing, meaningful glance between those men, or the implications of hand holding in the Vulcan context. Ignore half of the meanings of the word t’hy’la. Or if you wanna drag SNW into it, ignore the way Captain Angel (who is non-binary) played Spock like a fiddle akin to the way Alora manipulated Chris in the previous episode, albeit more subtly. “Spock is in love with James Kirk, he couldn’t possibly be anything other than gay.”

The truth of the matter is Spock being queer-coded was a happy accident. A result of him being an outlet for fans who feel “other”. Reinforced by a queer screenwriter who used that otherness to be allegorical for queer people. Reinforced by Roddenberry and Nimoy being comfortable with the interpretation of the K/S relationship. Reinforced fans writing heaps and heaps of fanfiction, some of which got published as Star Trek novels! All of which embraces and handwaves the actual text of TOS almost in equal measure.

I have to keep asking, is it queerbaiting if it was never deliberate? Is it queerphobic if Spock’s not the type of queer you personally extrapolated from the text that was important to you, as well as the text you ignored/explained away?

Concern #3: They’re shoving female love interests in front of Spock to prevent him being interpreted as queer.

My Argument: SNW, in my opinion, is providing depth to pre-established canon romantic prospects into something that gives both women depth, and could potentially enhance Spock’s queer narrative. Redefining some of their more, questionable, one dimensional actions in TOS. As well as to recontextualize a very sexist/creepy aspect of Vulcan worldbuilding. Something I don’t think was intended as “we need to make Spock straight.” and more “what if these relationships weren’t fundamentally informed by 1960s sexism while also deepening the characterizations of everyone involved?”

What about the interpretation (and possibly the truth we’ve yet to know) is that while Spock obviously cares about Christine and feels compelled to make things work with T’Pring, he’s not in love with either of them?

Wouldn’t Spock coming to that realization lend itself further to the implication of Spock being on the ace spectrum and/or being more interested in men (or rather, one man) romantically? SNW has only had one season, we’ve got the building blocks of two relationships we factually know are going to fall apart in favor of Spock’s relationship with Kirk. If the showrunners have a plan for the set up, surely they have intentions for where the dominos will fall.

By Chapel and Spock having known each other before as friends, a friendship made complicated by one’s (or both’s) romantic feelings. It makes Chapel’s struggle regarding Spock in TOS go from “the kinda creepy advances of a woman he doesn’t really know and isn’t super interested in, but seems to care for despite some boundary issues”. Into an intriguing story about how close friendships can fall apart in unexpected, painful ways beyond our control, especially when romantic interest is involved.

Which can be read as something queer about Spock or read at face value. I also think it’s worth pointing out the two of them aren’t actually romantically involved (and might never be), because Spock is engaged and Chapel is visibly holding back. Still, even if they were it would be a queer relationship because Chapel is canonically bisexual, and no amount of m/f romance is going to magically un-bi her.

In the 60s, the concept of the ‘ownership’ of women and children was a lot more common, Vulcan culture played on that precedent in Amok Time. Yet, thanks to SNW, T’Pring obviously owns herself, she and Spock both do. By making an element of T’Pring and Spock’s relationship something they did as consenting adults, they give more opportunities for conflict and struggle. There’s still more cultural pressure for their marriage than actual emotions, and the bond they made in childhood being of more important still removes part of their agency in the matter. It complicates T’Pring’s role in Spock’s life in a way that doesn’t favor purely vilifying her as a “woman temptress” or victimizing her as somehow Spock or Stonn’s property.

I think we’re getting a lot more insight into Vulcan culture by getting to watch her clash against this betrothal as much as it deepens Spock’s clash with his birth cultures. They’re both trying to be “good Vulcans” both with something to prove. I think it’s really interesting to get to see Vulcans who technically do “fit in”, still struggle in the confines of cultural expectation. The relationship feels forced because it is forced. Nothing about Spock and T’Pring’s visibly failing engagement takes away from the message of Amok Time. That the pain and death and drama would be entirely avoidable if they didn’t feel compelled by their culture to be something they are not. T’Pring is not in love with Spock, she chose Stonn. Spock is not in love with T’Pring, he chooses Kirk.

Concern #4: They’re decanonizing Spirk, they’re taking K/S away from us by making Spock interested in women!

My Argument: Can you decanonize two characters having a relationship that hasn’t even happened yet in canon? If Spock and Jim meet before Kirk becomes Captain of the Enterprise that does it will change what’s currently canon, which I don’t have an issue with. At this point in SNW, 2359/2360, Kirk is serving on the Farragut and depending on the exact timing, might be engaged/married to Carol Marcus. Does James Kirk having been married or expressed interest in many, many women in the past negate his attraction to Spock? Or is Spirk being able to transcend all of both halves past relationships one of the ship’s many charms?

If they meet, chemistry is far from impossible. All the best of Spirk is already canon, we watched it play out on screen in TOS and even more so in its films. I count The Search for Spock as easily one of the most romantic movies I’ve ever seen! I totally get wanting more Kirk & Spock content I want it too! But even if they do choose to fully, officially ret-queer Spock and Jim’s relationship beyond names carved in a bar table. I don’t think Strange New Worlds not directly focusing on it makes that relationship or it’s queer interpretation not matter.

Ultimately there’s very little they could do that would “kill” Spirk. At least that wouldn’t be extremely out of character for either half of the ship or be unnecessarily hostile to the people who ship it. Which I don’t get the impression the current showrunners would do. It would disrupt the well established chemistry Spock & Kirk have in the prime universe if the showrunners went out of their way to put their dynamic into a specific category of relationship, and antithetical to the Gene Roddenberry coined term “t’hy’la”.

I think part of where Spirk thrives is in its ability to be whatever you want it to be, but I understand the need for queer representation, especially from such a historic sci-fi character like Spock. Still, I think things will be fine so long as they don’t make him explicitly straight. There’s plenty of identities within the queer umbrella he could have that are compatible with his m/f canon romance subplots.

TL:DR: I’m not worried, and don’t feel there’s reason to be. I think people need to take the shipping/fanon glasses off if they wanna enjoy the show as it is. If I'm wrong, well, that would suck, lol.

#star trek #Star Trek meta #meta #meta analysis #fandom meta #Spock #snw Spock #James kirk #Jim kirk #Captain Kirk #s’chn t’gai spock #t’pring #nurse chapel #christine chapel #ethan peck #Gia sidhu #Jess bush #star trek strange new worlds #strange new worlds #star trek snw #snw #long post #cw long post #fandom discourse #queer representation #k/s #the premise #spirk #spock/chapel #spock x chapel

[mossyscavern]

Costumes and crushes

___________________

“It’s been a long time since we’ve been trick or treating.”

Tim said, staring at the costume in the mirror. “Wonder what everyone else will be.” Tim wondered turned around to see Tom staring at his costume in his hands, not at all listening.

He rolled his eyes fondly and cleared his throat. “Wonder what Sam will be for Halloween.” Tim says instead as Tom immediately lifted his head when the name Sam is mentioned.

Tom darkened his eyes as Tim laughed. “Very funny.” Tom said, annoyed by the way his twin got Tom’s attention. “That was so quick though!”

Tim commented before getting pelted in the face by a pillow. “And I regret telling you about my crush.” Tom said, a little amused at his own action.

“You’re sure it’s a good idea to dress differently?” Tom asked, now finally changing in his costume. “Yes! Besides, they’re both from a story book, it’s not so different.” He answered, putting in the fake teeth that came with the costume.

“Well?” He asked, hoping Tom’s opinion would help out. “Loose the teeth.” He said to his twin.

And Tim did just that, loose the teeth. “Yeah, I look ridiculous in them.” He said, before putting on his mask. Tom looked in his own reflection, having second thoughts about the costume. “Guys, c’mon! We gotta go!”

Lilian said barging in their room, who is wearing her usual pink bunny onesie as her costume. “I’m done anyways.” Tim said, fixing up the collar of his costume.

“… uh, I am too.” Tom answered, feeling a little unsure about celebrating again. “Then c’mon, Duncan, Travis and Sam are already here.” Lilian said, already running out of the twin’s room.

Tim went out first and Tom followed close behind, his own costume mask already on and yet he isn’t used to having half his face covered. Not even close to the hallway and already he could hear voices.

“Shouldn’t you be a gypsy if you’re Esmeralda?” He heard Travis ask and a groan from Duncan afterwards. “Travis we talked about this!” Duncan shouted as Tom sighed when Tim turned to the lounge room.

Tom took a deep breath, shut his eyes and entered the room. When he opened his eyes he saw everyone had dressed up in their respective costumes, but his eyes lingers towards Sam’s costume.

Sam’s costume is also based off of the phantom of the opera, he looks a lot like Christine with red hair, but… why did Travis say Esmeralda instead? “Looks like you really do have your phantom, huh Sam?”

“Tom’s is actually based off the book, mine’s from the goosebumps series.” Sam answered as Travis oh’d with understanding. “At least it’s better then being a clown.”

Duncan comments as Travis gasps. “Excuse me! Pennywise is actually scary.” “Not the one from the 90’s!!” “It’s a classic! Unlike your costume!!!”

“Don’t you dare! Insult the Jason vorhees original-!” “Guys!” Sam interrupted, breaking the two apart. “This is the weaver’s first Halloween in a long time, we are not ruining this!!” Sam told them, turning back and forth between the too.

“Well what are we waiting for? Let’s go trick or treating!!” Travis yelled already out the door with Lilian, Caleb and Benny tailing behind while tim and Duncan tried to tolerate each other. “I-I… guess we go- go together I suppose?”

Tom stuttered out, feeling flustered about seeing Sam in a dress. Especially a dress that suits him very well. “Uh… w-why Chri- uh.. Esmeralda?” Tom asked, sam shrugged his shoulders. “Why not? Besides I got triple dog dared to wear the dress.” Sam answered as he oh’d the same way as Travis.

“Eh, I’m not complaining… and I see you’re not either~.” He said, Tom became weak in the knees at that comment. ‘When did Sam become flirty?!’ He thought, burying his red face against the palm of his hands.

While Sam realised what he said and coughed. “L-let’s catch up with the rest, they’ll probably wonder where we are.” Sam said, changing the subject as the two head outside where the others are waiting.

Even though Tom is a little flustered and worried about this day. He really isn’t complaining about anything.

Just add some costumes, candy and crushes and he’s got himself a good night!

Now all he needs to do is confess without his twin help...

How is he gonna do this?!

___________________

Yeah… I’m sorry for not posting the sunflower shirts and gravestones series for the hearse twins au…

I have a bit of writers block on that series so, I did @vinehasnohopeleft’s au on a Halloween trip with the weavers… and yes, I’ve written about Sam wearing a dress in this.

Did I have a particular reason? Not really. Is this intentional? Partially. Am I going to have another episode of an anxiety crisis? Definitely. And I’m having one right now.

#wick hellbent games #wick 2015 #wick horror game #wick au #wick #wick tim #wick tom #wick sam #wick travis #wick duncan #wick caleb #wick benny #wick lilian #candle brace shipping #uh… I’ve been pacing through tumblr for about 5 minutes #which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened 10 times #normally I’d pace scroll around YouTube #or just pace around in my head #… I’ve said too much #… watchya think about flirty Sam? #I just realised I forgot to tag it as candlebrace #… my bad

[feverinfeveroutfic]

hanukkahbingo 2023

Fic or Art/Graphic Title: alone in the dark, chapter five : “Shadow of a Thousand Dead” Author/Artist Name: josiebelladonna Fandom: Testament (Band) Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Alex Skolnick (and how) Bingo Squares Being Filled: latkes, applesauce, sour cream, anti-assimilation, smashing fascists 🔥 Rating: Mature Warning(s): Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Link to Work: x @aimmyarrowshigh

I awoke to the gray light of the morning outside, and the feeling of a warm little body right next to me in the bed. For a second, I believed that I had woken up back home in the safety of my bed and with my girlfriend in my arms. But the feeling only lasted for a second, and I remembered that I was in the grandparents’ house, and it was Christine had nestled up against me like a little teddy bear. I ran my hand down the middle of her spine to the band of her pajama pants: the thought still lingered in the back of my mind, the one that told me to keep my hands off her lest someone in her family find out about it at some point, whether it came about after I left or not.

She groaned in her throat as she buried her head right into my chest. Her hands had found their way down onto the seat of my pants for a good feeling: every so often, her fingers pulsated on me for a little squeeze. Whenever she did it, I curled my toes and snickered. The feeling was new to me, and I couldn’t help but feel tickled by it.

She gave me a squeeze, and I chuckled a little louder that time.

I knew the rain had died down a bit, so I could be heard in there, but I wanted her in particular to hear me, though.

“Like squeezing a ripe avocado,” she whispered. “A nice, full, round, sweet, delicious little avocado—” She squeezed me again, and I rolled away from her enough to where her hand rested on my hip. I looked on at her and the tip of her tongue tucked into the corner of my mouth. “You have such a nice butt,” she remarked.

“If you like my butt, then surely you like my belly, too,” I told her as I ran my fingers through my hair and pushed my head down into the pillow so she could see the edge of my jaw and the side of my neck as well.

“Beautiful neck,” she remarked in a low voice. “Very beautiful neck.” She inched closer to me with her fingers up to my neck for a little stroke.

“Don’t tell me you have a fancy for necks, too,” I quipped to her.

“For yours,” she retorted back to me; she pushed her head in closer to the side of my neck for a soft kiss on the side.

“Ooh, that feels good,” I noted.

“You like that?” she whispered into my ear.

“I love it so much—more—more—” She kissed me some more, right on the tender spot right on the spot between the nape and the edge of my shoulder. Her lips were soft, and she touched me with such delicacy that to compare it to the tips of feathers would just cheapen it.

“I love how sensual you are,” I said to her.

“It’s funny, I don’t think of myself as such,” she confessed right into my ear. She buried her nose and lips back into the side of my neck, which only made me relax even more. The rain may have died down a bit, but I was feeling so cozy.

“I really don’t want to leave this bed,” I confessed to her.

“And I don’t want you to leave, either,” she whispered to me. Her hand slid down my chest and down onto my belly, and I realized that I had slept without a shirt on all this time.

“You should wear those leather pants again,” she suggested.

“Wear them after I eat all of the gelt, the latkes, the rugelach, the kreplach, and the sufganiyot and the waist band is so tight after that?” I teased her.

“Wear them after you eat all of that, and you also get tied up in lace and latex, too,” she added with a little flick of her eyebrows.

“I’m kind of intrigued by this whole… thing that you’re into,” I confessed to her. “It’s interesting and I find it tickling me whenever I think about it, too. Wanting to see me with a little extra weight on my body to the point I have a little belly going.”

She hung over me so her short red hair dangled down over the side of her head and face, like a little cherry wave from a primordial ocean. Her eyes twinkled from the mere suggestion of it all. Not only had she woken something in me, but I had a hunch that I had woken something up in her. She licked her lips and ran her fingers through her short hair so I could see her whole face.

“And it’s hanging over the belt of your pants, too,” she quipped with a slight gyration of her head. “I wanna feed you and feel you and keep you all to myself. I want to hide you in the closet and sneak you out when my mom isn’t looking.”

I cracked her a playful little smile at the sound of that.

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” I remarked, and my voice broke with sleep. “But I have to keep a life of my own or I’ll wither away. My parents will be worried sick about me.”

“But we’ll take good care of you, though,” she promised me. “We’ll tell your parents that we’re taking good care of you, especially when you have very little places to go after this.”

“That is… so, so sweet, Christine,” I told her with a slight shake of my head upon the pillow. She leaned into my face for another kiss, that time on my lips. I thought about what she had told me the night before, in that she would want to kiss me all the time, and that was all I could think about, as well.

She lifted up and gazed straight into my eyes, and a rich warmth swept over me like the wave of hair upon her head. She licked her lips and ran her fingers through my hair, the little ringlets on the right side, right underneath the streak. I showed her the tip of my tongue and rested my hands upon my chest.

“I want you to say it,” she whispered to me, and I caught the sound of the rain on the roof once again, albeit at a rather soft pace.

“Say what?” I asked her.

“That you’re sexy,” she replied.

“That I’m sexy?” I chuckled.

“You’re really sexy,” she confessed as she tucked a stray ringlet behind my ear. “I swear, if you my age, I would want to be with you all the time. If you were my age, I would have my hand tucked into your back pants pocket just so I could feel your nice little ass.”

I raised my eyebrows at her.

“Would you?”

Christine brought her lips to mine again, that time with a bit more spice and a bit more force as well. She had a hold on me, an absolute death grip on me, like the blizzard over the Rockies. She was making the feelings inside me swell like the cold waters which gathered around the property and the base of the hill. I couldn’t help but let my chest rise up from the feeling. My heart pounded inside of my chest, and she held onto the sides of my face with nothing more than the tips of her fingers.

She let go and gazed into my eyes again. My head spun and my heart hammered inside me. I could feel myself firming up in between my thighs, and all I could do was lay there with my eyes locked onto her.

“You look so good,” she cooed to me with a sweet smile on her face.

“This is—so good,” I gasped out, and I had no idea what came over me right then. “Kiss me—please, Christine, kiss me. I need it, and you need it. Kiss me and feel me. I want you to feel my hair, too. I need you. I need to feel you.”

“And I need to feel you—” she whispered back to me.

She kissed me again, that time with that same force as well as her hand tucked in at the back of my head: her fingers entwined around the roots of my hair and she gave me a little tug at the back. She moved her lips down to the side of my neck for another tender little kiss. I closed my eyes and rested my hand on the small of her back.

She lay down on top of me, and I could feel her heart was pounding as well. I lifted my fingers off her back just so she was the one feeling me.

I gave myself to her.

It was all I needed, the feeling of someone loving me and nourishing me, and I couldn’t believe that I was going to have to leave it all behind me at one point. The feeling was silky and soft, and it only left me feeling even warmer than I had the mere few hours before then.

Christine rested her knee on the side of my hip, as if she was grounding me right there in the bed.

For a second, I had forgotten everything that brought me up to that point. I had forgotten about all the times I was up on stage with a leather vest and I left it open for everyone to see my skin and the hair on my chest. Right as I thought that, she ran her fingers down my chest. She stroked the fine little sprigs of hair with nothing more than the tips of her fingers. It was as if she had read my mind and knew exactly where to touch and feel me.

Most of all, I had forgotten my ex. In fact, I forgot I even had an ex to begin with: all I knew about was Christine, her precocious power and passion. She lightly caressed me and held me, as if we had known each other for far longer than a mere twelve hours. She nestled down next to me, and she used my body as her pillow. I was her rock right then. I was her crutch, and I was more than happy to be that for her as well.

She never did stop kissing me as well, even after she lay back down next to me with her hand rested upon the side of my neck.

“Oh, that was wonderful,” I breathed out to her as she lightly stroked the hair at the very top of my head. “Where did you learn to make out like that?”

“All of the times that I made out with my hand,” she replied. “I also thought about the times I considered making out with my ex, too.”

“He would have been so lucky,” I confessed to her. She sighed through her nose at that, and I rolled my head over the top of the pillow for a better look into her eyes and the wistful look in them. “He would have been so—so lucky,” I repeated, that time in a low whisper of a voice.

“By the way, I love how your voice gets all husky and soft whenever you feel good,” she noted.

“It does?”

“Oh, yeah. It almost feels like you're whispering a secret to me. It also helps that you and I are laying in bed together, too. I notice you talking like that last night.”

“Well, 'cause there's no power in the house. Anything we say or do is going to be heard, and I remember you telling me just that last night, too.”

“Sound travels in this house as if the walls are made of copper tinfoil,” she replied with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “And by the way, I also love how warm you are, too.”

“It's what I get for being a soft boy, eh?” I joked to her.

“You are soft!” she replied with a little tap of the tip of my nose, and then she put her arm around my waist. “Very soft, indeed.”

“Christine?” Wendy's voice floated in from the hallway right then. Christine herself meanwhile, closed her eyes and sighed again.

“Is the door closed?” I asked her in a low voice.

“Yeah, it is...” With a groan, she let me go and sat up in the bed next to me. She climbed out of the bed by the time her mother called her name once again.

“Yeah?” she called out.

“Where are you?” Wendy followed up.

“In here!”

“Where?”

Christine reached for the bedroom door and flung it open, and right as I was getting out of bed as well. Luckily for the both of us, she only had to adjust her pajama pants where I had to fix everything on me in order to appear decent. I hoped to whatever that her mother did not get the wrong idea about us, and especially about me—

“Oh, there you are!” Wendy declared as she strode up to the doorway. “I didn't see you in your room and I wondered if you and Alex had gone out walking together.”

“No way,” I assured her as I slid my legs out from under the covers; I cleared my throat as I thought of an excuse right as she walked on up to the door. “I was telling Christine when she came in here a little bit ago that I didn't want to leave this bed because it's so warm and it's all so cold in here, too.”

“It really is! Is that why the door was closed?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Christine assured her with a nod. “I came in here earlier and he was like 'close the door! It's freezing in here!' and so I did.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“What time is it, by the way?” I asked Wendy.

“It's seven thirty,” she replied. “But I was going to ask you kids if you wanted some coffee from the market a few blocks from here.”

“Ooh, I definitely would,” I said as I rubbed my hands over my upper arms. I turned my attention to Christine. “Have you seen my shirt?” And she shook her head. I peered over to the desk on the other side of the room, where I spotted my coat but not my shirt, however.

“Maybe you oughta go without the shirt,” Wendy suggested. “You know, just wear your coat over your body and have nothing more than your pants, too.”

“Yeah, and with my hair down like this, I'd look like Michael Hutchence,” I said with a chuckle, but I decided to do just that regardless of my own insecurity, though. I slung the coat around my body and ran my fingers through my hair.

“So hot,” Wendy remarked with a little twinkle to her eye. It apparently ran in the family as I had a hunch that she liked me as well. I didn't really want to dig deep into that because I knew that she and her husband were separated but not properly divorced: I needn't have that on my conscience as well. Nevertheless, I followed the two women out to the hallway, which was still somewhat dark despite the sun having risen up and the fact that we no longer needed hurricane lanterns and candles as far as I knew.

I fixed the lapels of my coat and took a seat at the kitchen table: I moved my coat around so only the top part of my chest was exposed to the two of them as well as the grandparents. My own freedom aside, they needn't see me like this, and not when there was a lot to do in that house to serve as a proper distraction, either. I kept my left hand tucked into my pocket to keep my coat closed off, and my right hand rested upon the table before me, and I watched Wendy put on her boots and her jacket as well before she headed out to the rain.

“It's not that far,” she assured us with a shake of her head. “I'll be right back.”

“We'll be here,” I promised her with a little smile; she scooped up her keys and ducked out to the rain, which still fell in utter droves out there. I was curious if there was any sort of flooding down the road from us as well. I then turned to Christine, who took her seat right next to me: her red hair seemed to shimmer under the gray light, and I couldn't recall her skin appearing that creamy smooth, either.

“We got anything to nosh on?” I asked her.

“Nosh?” She raised an eyebrow at me.

“Yeah. Like something to eat before breakfast, or before your mom comes back with the coffee. Don't tell me you haven't noshed before.”

“I've noshed, I've noshed,” she insisted with a nod of her head, and then she sauntered over to the table and rested her hands on the edge furthest from me. She leaned forward so I could only see a small window of her chest right then.

“Nice try,” I told her, and she glanced down at her chest.

“Nice try what? You don't like what you see here?”

“You need a top with a lower neckline,” I said with a straight face. “I do like it, but... if you're going to do that, wear a top with a lower neck, though. You know, I want to see more of the boobs, not just a tiny little peek the size of my thumb. Besides—” I took a glance over my shoulder to the gray shadows right behind me: her grandparents were still sound asleep in the room at the far end of the hallway; I remembered we had to put the screen back onto the window near the back door as well. I then returned to her, still with a straight face. “I'm a leg man.”

“You're a leg man?” she asked me with a grin. “Well, why didn't you say so?”

She hoisted her left leg up onto the chair next to me and lifted up the bottom of her pajama pants, to which I giggled at her.

“Hey, now, you gotta have the proper clothing,” I said.

“I'm in proper clothing!” she insisted as she rolled it up to her knee.

“Nah, you need like fishnets or something to accentuate all of this...” I gestured to her, and then I let my eyes wander onto her, onto the curvature of her lower legs as well as her ankles. I was a bastard for thinking about it, but I pictured her in shorts, and I had a feeling she was going to do something for me before our time was up here at the house.

“Question,” I started again, and I kept my voice low again lest her grandparents hear us in there.

“Hm?”

“Do you have any pedal pushers?”

“Pedal pushers, like... capri pants?”

“Not really,” I said with a shake of my head. “They're kinda fitted and they only go to your knees. They're—dare I say—hot. They're quite hot.”

“Like you and that coat of yours?” she teased me back, and I gave my hair a little toss back with the flick of my head. I let the coat sling open so she could see more of my chest.

“I guess you could say that,” I told her with a little shrug of my shoulders.

“You guess? You guess or you know?” She pressed her hands to her hips, and she straightened out her spine so her chest was so prominent right before me.

“Man, your mom wasn't exaggerating, you do have a thing for me,” I teased her, and she giggled at that.

“What, did you think that those kisses I gave you were all lies?” she retorted back to me.

“I never said that,” I assured her with a shake of my head, and I couldn't resist laughing, either. It had been quite some time since I had a playful debate like this with someone else, let alone a girl, that I could not help but laugh to myself.

“But you did imply it, though!” she insisted, and she began laughing as well.

“What do you mean? That I have some sort of secret that I'm harboring for you?” I ran my fingers through the ringlets on the side of my head.

“You could be,” she teased me, and she set her foot back down on the floor so she stood before me like Wonder Woman.

“Like what?” I asked her as I leaned back in the chair, and I let the coat open up for her to see all of me. Just like the leather vest up on stage with Testament.

“Maybe you like me,” she answered.

“Of course I like you,” I quipped to her. “I mean, that should be obvious. I mean...” I glanced over my shoulder again, and then I returned to her. “I let you kiss me and sleep in my bed with me.”

“Hey, now, I didn't just kiss you but I also held you and rubbed that little belly of yours.” She wagged her finger at me as if she was lecturing me.

“Plus, you've been flirting with me and looking at me all wide-eyed this whole entire time. I mean, it's no secret to me.”

“Back up, I thought this was about you, not me,” she chided.

“Yeah, it is,” I replied with a straight face. “It just makes sense to bring you into the fold because you're the one doing all of the action.”

“What, you're passing the buck onto me?” she asked me with her hand pressed onto her chest.

“Yes. Yes, I am! You came onto me, not the other way around.”

“Ah, but you let me come onto you,” she quipped with another wag of her finger. “It's not all about me, after all.”

“I think it is! You wanted to get close to me because your mother was right and you have a thing for me.”

“And you don't have a thing for me?” she demanded with a flutter of her eyelashes and a slight raise of her head.

“I never said I don't,” I assured her as I ran my fingers through my hair again, and I couldn't resist the smile on my face. She cocked her head to the side, and she stepped on closer to me, and all the while, her hands never lifted off from her hips. She stood right before my knees, and I wanted to know what exactly it was that she thought right then. I nibbled on my bottom lip, while she ran her tongue along her top row of teeth.

“You really do look like Michael Hutchence,” she told me, and I gave my hair a quick flip with the flick of my head.

“I'm not as good of a singer as him, though,” I pointed out.

“You ought to be,” she suggested. “I can just imagine you singing with this really sexy, really husky baritone, all dressed up like this, too. You'd make my teenage dreams come true in a hot flash.”

“Well, I'd have to take singing lessons and really step into my own, neither of which are a walk in the park, especially the last one. Ever since my breakup and when I left my band, it's been a tall order to try and find my footing, especially within myself.”

“Shall I help with that?” She stooped over before me and even though her chest wasn't all that exposed to me, I still let my eyes wander there. “Eyes up here, big boy.” She pointed to her face.

“'Big boy', that's something I haven't heard before,” I said to her, and I couldn't help but laugh again.

“You really never believed you were a big boy?” she teased me.

“Of course I did. I mean, I practically dwarf you and your mom, of course I know I'm big.”

“No. I mean... you really never believed you were a big boy?” She ran her tongue along her bottom lip again, and that time, she dropped her gaze to my body. I followed her gaze and I realized she was looking at my lap.

“Yeah, you, me, and my leather pants,” I told her; right as she glanced up, I flashed her a wink.

“Will you wear those again?” she asked me.

“Maybe. It depends.”

“It depends on what?”

“It depends on what you wanna do here while you're face to face with me. You wanted to help me find my footing.”

“Of course,” she replied, and she kissed the tip of my nose, which caught me by surprise. She giggled and showed me her tongue.

“Ah, yes, a nice game of 'kiss the schnoz',” I said with a straight face, and she burst out laughing at that. She stood up before me for a second, and then she ran her fingers through her red hair.

“Man, and I thought I was saucy,” I muttered.

“It's funny 'cause I wasn't always like this,” she told me.

“Neither was I! It's like when we get together and everyone is still asleep, we bring out the—what we call in my family—chutzpah in each other.” She paused for a second, and then she gazed on down the shadowy hallway, and my heart skipped a few beats as a result. “Are your grandparents awake?” I asked her in a low voice close to a whisper.

“I don't think they are,” she confessed, also in a low voice. “I just thought they were.” She then returned to me with a flex of her eyebrows again as well as a slight twinkle in her eye. “Yeah, I guess we do bring out the—what'd you call it again?”

“Chutzpah. A bit of—” I stood up before her, still with the coat wide open for her to see the hair on my chest as well as my bare belly. “—walking around like you've got it and I want it. Or rather—” I pressed my hands to my hips. “I've got it and you want it.”

“Or perhaps I've got it and you actually want it,” she retorted back to me with a gentle stroke of my chest. She licked her lips at the feeling of my skin, and then she moved her hand back up to my chest hair. “You have really sexy chest hair. I didn't think I was all that enticed by a guy's chest hair, especially when my dad used to be all thick with it when I was little, but... here I am. Feeling attracted to chest hair.”

“Go ahead and touch me,” I insisted to her, and she used both hands to stroke me. She wound some of that hair around the tips of her fingers, which felt a bit better than her hands on my belly but I wasn't going to complain or split hairs.

“I like how it's just these cute little tufts all over your chest,” she remarked.

“Would you rather I have a full rug on my chest like that of a gorilla?” I asked her, and she wrinkled her nose and giggled at that.

“Nah, this is—this is kind of perfect, actually,” she confessed. “In fact, it's... it's making me all tingly.”

“It's making you tingly? It's making you tingly where?”

“You know where,” she replied.

“Oh, you mean—below the equator,” I said. “In the heart of the deepest pits of the Dead Sea.” And she snickered at that; right then, I caught the sound of her grandfather saying something.

“I think they're awake,” I told her, and she took her hands off of me and sniffed her palms. “Wow.” I raised my eyebrows at that.

“Would you rather I took my hands off of you and put them down my pants?” she retorted to me, and I nibbled on my bottom lip at that.

“I ain't telling you,” I quipped to her, and she giggled at that.

“So that was perfect is what you're telling me?” she asked me as I closed the top three buttons of my coat to have some modesty before her grandparents came into the room right then.

“It was interesting,” I said to her with a slight flutter of my eyelashes to her, and she snickered and sniffed her palms yet again.

“Mmm, smells like a boy,” she told me; she turned her head towards the hallway, and then she turned her body away from me, and I could only assume that her grandparents were coming down the hall. I sank back down to the chair while Christine made her way over to the sink: for a second, I believed she was going to wash her hands, but she got herself a drink of water instead.

The front door then swung open, and I was greeted by the smell of the rain as well as fresh coffee.

“Ah, the two best smells in the world right there,” I declared as Wendy nearly stumbled into the house; I strode on over to her to help her out with the cardboard carrier and the four cups of coffee: I noticed she held one in her hand as well.

“Phew—” Once the door was closed, she stripped her hood off her head and gave her hair a shake.

“Wet?” I asked her.

“Quite,” she replied. “I forgot to ask you how you like your coffee so I just got you a plain espresso.”

“Oh, that's okay! I like me some espresso.”

“It's the one closest to you, and I should also say that—” I raised my eyebrows to her. “The airport is still closed,” she told me. “The clerk in the store told me about it and I knew I had to tell you once I got back home. And I feel like it’s going to be closed for another day, too. I mean, it is just pouring rain right now, like I'm amazed there hasn't been flooding outside.”

I sighed through my nose, and I picked out my cup of coffee from the bunch before I set it down on the kitchen table for Christine and her grandparents. I then doubled back to the front door and I peered outside to the street as well as the drenched yard. What snow had fallen had completely gone at that point, and at least it wasn’t snowing again, but the sheer amount of rain that was falling out there only made me all the more concerned about how and when to get on home to my parents. It was Sunday, and the sands of the hourglass dwindled down with every passing second.

I had no idea if these people had a menorah on hand or any sort of candle that lit up with oil.

I couldn't stop thinking about it, either, such that I neglected to bide the grandparents with a simple good morning.

“So, if the airport is still closed for the next, say, couple of days, that means he misses the first night of Hanukkah with his parents,” her grandfather followed along, to which I sighed through my nose yet again. I sipped on the espresso, only to feel the first twinges of hunger within. I turned my attention to Christine's grandmother, who strode up next to me with her cup of coffee as well as a glass of water.

“Are there still mashed potatoes?” I asked her.

“Oh, yeah, there’s plenty,” she replied, and then her face lit up. “We want some of those potato pancakes, don’t we.”

“Yeah, we do,” I replied to her, and I could feel my own face growing warm.

“Well, once we've had a bit more coffee, we'll fire up the hot plate and slice up some onions and get the olive oil out, and we could have some latkes.”

“Do you have applesauce or sour cream, too? I like mine with either one.”

“I think we do!”

“And I think we do have some oil candles, too?” Wendy assured me as she strode on into the room from behind her. “We’re probably going to be lighting candles every night for the next couple of days, anyway. That is until they get the power lines fixed, and we aren’t relying on a hot plate and some open flames, as well. They’re these little white candles, too—I'm not sure, but I feel like they're like the ones you would see on a menorah.”

“Oh, perfect!” I said, and I turned my attention to the hearth on the other side of the room. Right in between the framed photographs of Wendy, Christine, and other members of the family as well as a small wreath of orange leaves, acorns, and pine cones, stood a blank spot that looked to be big enough for a row of candles for a makeshift menorah.

“Do you have nine?” I asked her. “A menorah has nine in order to be kosher: four on either side followed by the shamash in the middle, and it’s gotta be offset from the other ones a bit.”

“Oh, yes,” she replied. “We could have the eight lined up on the hearth, and then the ninth one can be pushed back a little bit.”

“You're a guest in our house,” Christine's grandmother told me with a hand rested upon my shoulder. “The best thing we can do is make this place feel like home for a while.”

“Thank you,” I told her with a little bow of my head and a sip of my coffee. I then returned to the kitchen where Christine and her grandfather were in fact starting up the hot plate and gathering the potatoes out for the latkes. It wasn't going to be like those from my mom or my grandmother for that matter, but I wasn't going to turn them down for nothing, though.

There was in fact a jar of applesauce there in the kitchen, and I was eager to have a nice little plate for that morning as well as the cup of warm espresso. Once I had taken my seat on the couch in the living room to see how the makeshift menorah would look, for a second, I really did believe I was back home with my parents and my grandparents. If I hadn't known better, I would have sworn that I was a teenage boy again back at my family's house right outside of New York. No sooner had I sipped on my coffee again when I thought about calling my mother again to tell her what was happening.

And no sooner had I thought that when there was a knock on the door.

“I'll get it!” Wendy declared, and she doubled back past me to the front door. She opened it to reveal a short man with salt and pepper hair wrapped in a beige coat.

“Hello, dear,” he greeted Wendy, and all I could think about was Sir Anthony Hopkins right then.

“Kenny!” Wendy gasped.

“Dad?” Christine sputtered, and she stalked out of the kitchen to see what was the matter. Her grandfather followed suit with a plate of latkes and a bowl of applesauce for me.

“Here, son,” he told me. “Happy Hanukkah.”

“Thank you so much,” I whispered to him, and then he turned his attention to the front door.

“Oh, hello, Kenny, what’re you doing here?” he greeted him rather coolly.

“I got caught in the makeshift swamp right outside here, and I remembered that this is my in-laws’ house,” he said in a single breath, and he barged in like he owned the place. “Smells good in here, what's cooking?”

“Something that doesn't involve you,” Wendy scoffed as she closed the door part of the way to keep any more cold air out of the house; and then he turned his attention to me, to which he curled one side of his lip at me.

“Who’s this funny-looking little runt?”

“Kenny, he’s not funny-looking!” Wendy insisted; Christine slid next to me and hunkered closer to me. Kenny frowned at me and pressed his hands to his hips. I swallowed and shifted my weight. It had been some time since I had experienced something like this before, with my ex’s father looking down at me because of the streak on my head and the full bulbous tip of my nose, and the fact that I was eating latkes fresh off the griddle with a little bowl of applesauce to the side.

“You keep your hands off my daughter,” he warned me, and I swallowed at that.

“Dad, he’s a good guy,” Christine assured him, slightly heated.

“Alex is a sweet guy!” Wendy exclaimed.

“I’m just here because I can’t get home otherwise, sir,” I sputtered out, and I held my plate of latkes close to me.

“I hope that's all you're doing,” he told me in a curt voice.

“Alright, get out of here,” Christine's grandfather ordered him. “Until you start talking to my daughter again like a mature adult, I don't want to see you, I don't want to know you, I don't want to know anything about you.”

“One hand on my Christine and you're target practice for me,” he warned me with his finger right in my face.

“That's enough!” Wendy snapped, and she tugged him aside and escorted him back outside. I turned my attention to Christine, who then shook her head.

“I have no clue how he got here,” she confessed to me in a low voice.

“I don't think anyone does,” I assured her with a shake of my head. “I'm just glad he's out of here.” And she nodded at that. Wendy returned to the living room, whereby she shut the door behind her and locked it. She ran her fingers through her hair and let out a low whistle before she stood in front of the two of us.

“I'm so sorry,” Wendy told me, to which I shook my head. “Well, now you know why he and I are separated.”

“It's okay,” I assured her. “No, really! I've seen plenty of assholes in my day.” And she snickered at that. “The one thing that got me about him was it just totally caught me off guard is all. I also want to know why he was here, too.”

“How he got here, too,” Christine added.

“Yeah, that, too. Well, at least he didn't kill me. I can eat knowing that I survived it.” And with that, I took a bite of latke, and I nodded my head at that. “Oh, yeah, that's the stuff right there.”

#hanukkahbingo #hanukkah #hanukkah 2023 #jewish holidays #hanukkah bingo #alone in the dark #as the seasons grey #as the seasons grey fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #testament fanfic #testament #testament band #alex skolnick #oc tag #also on ao3 #writing #text

[minervadashwood]

Scars and Stitches, Ch. 10: Home

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Series Masterlist | Masterlist

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Summary: Daryl finds a surprise in the woods, then another at camp. Warnings: nothing notable. Note: This chapter has a major canon divergence. This is also one of my favorite chapters so, so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

=======

"Beloved. Heart of mine. I know you are weary. Forgive me. I cannot let you go." ― Christine Feehan, Dark Lycan

Daryl missed you.  Day after day he was out looking for Sophia, motivated by Carol’s tears and the fact that the little girl was going through what he had many years ago.  That should have held all his focus.

But it didn’t.  He’d gotten used to being with you most of the day, having little chats, sharing meals, riding Merle’s bike, or whiling away the evening in comfortable silence.  But now he barely saw you.  It wasn’t the same way he’d missed Merle (both times), instead it was like part of him was absent, back on that farm while he searched in the woods.  Daryl had cared for others romantically before —usually anyone (man or woman) with a little kindness and a cute smile—but he’d never acted on those feelings.  It seemed pretty pointless. He was a no-good drifter, not worth anyone’s time or attention. It also hadn’t helped that Merle would bully Daryl any time he might show the slightest sign of softness or tenderness. Daryl perfected the art of burying any romantic feelings down deep, never to be acknowledged or acted upon.

When it came to sex, Daryl was also hesitant.  Aside from that time Merle hired a sex worker to “make him a man,” Daryl had never been physically intimate with anyone.  Whether it was his natural shyness or the impersonal nature of his first time, Daryl just wasn’t interested in fucking someone he didn’t genuinely care about.  And he didn’t let himself care about anyone because that made life ultimately more painful. It was easier to shut off whatever he was feeling and find other ways to occupy his time.

However, turning off his feelings was harder and harder these days. Merle was gone, and every time Daryl showed someone kindness, especially you, he was met with warmth instead of shame.  Then, at the end of a hard day you would hug him and trust him and understand him even when he couldn’t speak.  When that happened, he lowered his defenses to let the thought of you—and the thought of having you—inside.

As time went on, the more he wanted from you, and not just easy conversations and soothing silences.  Not a day, sometimes not even an hour, went by when he didn’t think about kissing you.  And those thoughts always turned into something more. He imagined you naked as he trailed his fingers over every dip and curve, memorizing parts of you that you would only let him see, only let him touch. He imagined relearning your body with his lips, teeth, and tongue; imagined you moaning and writhing beneath him as he made you his, in every way imaginable. 

Still, when he realized these thoughts had spiraled out of control, he would force the fantasies deep down, until they sat like a lead weight in his belly. He was not good enough for anyone, and especially not you.  It was a practiced refrain, and he’d spent his life perfecting it.

*

While searching for Sophia, Daryl always worked on his own, the way he preferred it.  Every day he left at dawn and came back at night.  He only talked to Rick enough to review the search grid, get his coordinates for the next day, and grab a bite to eat, before collapsing in his bed.

On the fourth day, even he was feeling a bit hopeless, but then he stumbled upon what appeared to be a deserted hunting camp. It was the sort of place where men would gather on weekends to hunt in the morning and then get high or drink themselves to a stupor at night.  The kind of place where him and Merle whiled away many hours when Merle was selling drugs during hunting season.

After checking the perimeter of the small building, Daryl looked in each of the windows.  The place was empty as far as he could tell, so he went in.  Crossbow loaded and out, he made his way quietly through each room.  He found empty beer cans littering every surface, two dead bodies, and one hunting rifle.  Then he started checking closets and cabinets. 

In the kitchen he opened the door to a broom closet and saw a dirty, frightened little girl with Carol’s eyes staring up at him.  Daryl could scarcely believe it.  He reached to take Sophia’s hand, but the girl flinched away from him. 

He put away his crossbow and squat down.  “’member me?  I’m Daryl.  I’ll take you back to your mom.”

Sophia clutched her doll and glanced around.  “Where is everyone else?  Where’s my mom? Where’s Rick?”

Daryl for a fleeting moment wondered if he looked too scary for Sophia to trust him.   He took a knee.  “We found this farm with real nice people.  Your mom’s there, so is Rick, Miss Morgan, Carl, everybody.”

Sophia relaxed a little, and said, “Do you promise to keep me safe?”

“I promise, but you’ll have to stick close an’ do what I say, alright?”  He held out his hand again.

Sophia nodded and placed her hand in his.  They walked a few steps before Sophia swayed on her feet.  Daryl sat her down on the kitchen counter and took a water and protein bar from his pack.  He’d learned from your trip to rescue Merle and had packed provisions that wouldn’t gross out a little girl.

Once Sophia drank half the bottle and finished the protein bar, they set out again.

==

You were helping Carol with the laundry when Andrea appeared, breathless and smiling.

“Daryl found her!” she announced.

Instantly, both you and Carol dropped everything and followed Andrea.  Sophia and Daryl were still two small spots in the distance, but that didn’t stop Carol from going into a full-blown sprint to them.  You stayed near the RV, with Andrea and Dale, and watched the happy reunion from there.  Carol cried and so did Sophia, and in between hugging her daughter, Carol was hugging Daryl.  He stood there like a mannequin, dirt covered and obviously unsure of himself.  Eventually, Carol took Sophia’s hand, then Daryl’s, and led all three of them to the RV.  To your amazement, Sophia let go of Carol’s hand and ran to hug you.  You’d barely interacted with the girl except to read her bedtime stories.

“I’m so proud of you, Sophia,” you told her. “Keeping yourself safe and trusting Daryl to bring you home.”

Sophia let go of you and smiled at you with tired eyes.  For a moment you thought of Duane and the last time you hugged him, of leaving him and Morgan, the only thing close to family you’d had in this world.

Carol said, “C’mon, Sophia, Mommy’s going to get you cleaned up, put you in some new clothes, and fix you a good meal.”  Sophia waved to you and headed to the camp with her mom.

Dale came down from the lookout spot, and Andrea took his place.  He patted Daryl on the back and said, “Well done, son.  You’ve earned a rest.  You can’t know what this means to everyone.  We’re lucky to have you.”

Daryl stared at the ground.  “Kid did good out there. Knew she’d be alright.”

Dale looked at you, “Make sure he gets a good rest. He’s earned it.”

“And then some,” you agreed.

Daryl pulled his gaze away from the ground and said, “Goin’ back out to fetch the others.  No point in ‘em bein’ out there longer than they hafta be.”

“But Daryl,” you said, reaching a hand to his elbow. 

He didn’t flinch, but you saw him tense up at the gesture.  You removed your hand immediately.

“’m alright.  Best get everyone in one place again.”

You nodded, knowing he wouldn’t rest if there was something he’d set his mind on doing.

==

That night, when Daryl made his way over to his tent, you were already zipped up in your own space. He could see your silhouette as you read a book with light from a lantern.

He was hoping for one of your amazing hugs but decided not to trouble you. So, he went to his own tent.  He froze on the spot when he saw Merle’s air mattress in there, all made up with a sleeping bag laid open and a couple of blankets spread on top of it, like a maid had provided him turn down service.  This wasn’t right.  You needed the mattress more than he did.

Daryl left his tent and stood just outside yours.

“Ya decent?” he asked.

*

“Huh? Oh. Yep,” you answered Daryl, startled from your reading. You were already dressed in a loose tank top and soft cotton shorts, your go-to pajamas lately. You were grateful the tank was a dark color because you’d also shed your bra right after dinner. Underwires weren’t made to be worn at night.

“I’m comin’ in,” he said.

You dog-eared the page you’d been reading and watched as Daryl opened the door to your tent.

He looked down at you for a moment, then said, “C’mere.”

You furrowed your brow.  “Something wrong?” He nodded at the tent door, no further explanation given. You got to your feet, confused, but also knowing Daryl never did anything without purpose.

He followed you out of your tent, zipping it up behind him. You turned to see him carrying your book and the battery-powered lantern in one hand.  With his other hand, he grabbed your wrist and led you into his tent.

“What the hell, Daryl?” you said, once you were inside.

“Yer sleepin’ there.” Not waiting for your reaction, he put the book on the mattress and set the lantern on an upside-down crate that was next to the bed.

“I don’t need that mattress anymore,” you explained.  “I’m finished with the transfusions. Besides, you’ve been running yourself ragged looking for Sophia then coming home to look after me.  You deserve a good sleep more than anyone else.”

“I ain’t lettin’ you sleep on the ground when you don’t have to.”

You were torn between guilt and pleasure at the way he took care of you, but you would not let him do it at his own expense. “Daryl, I have no problem following your lead when we’re out there, but when we’re home, you don’t need to fuss over me.  You are sleeping on that mattress, and that’s final.”

Daryl turned and zipped his tent closed. Blocking the doorway, he kicked off his boots, took off his belt, and removed his knife holster from it. Then he stripped off his flannel shirt and dingy tank top, tossing them off to the side. You allowed yourself the swiftest of glances at his bare chest, but then forced yourself to stare at the tent wall. Daryl, moving away from the tent door, placed his knife and holster beside the lantern.

 The coast was clear. You said, “I’ll just go back to my—"

Before you could finish that thought, Daryl stalked toward you like a feral beast and scooped you up bridal style. With a yelp, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Without a word, he carried you to the bed and carefully laid you on the center of the mattress. Then, not giving you any chance to move away, he flopped down beside you, flung his arm around your middle, effectively holding you in place. With you on your back and Daryl on his side, his hard body met your soft one, so that your bare arm pressed into the planes of his chest and stomach. You flushed from head to toe. Whatever aesthetic attraction you’d had for him was quickly progressing into something else, something you’d rarely ever felt. You no longer simply wanted to be close to him, but you wanted to touch him, be touched by him.

Daryl chuckled in your ear.  “That shut you up.”

No biting retort came to mind as he held you, and you wished you could find some practical reason to leave this bed immediately. You drew a blank.

After a moment you said, “I know I’m heavy. You could have hurt your back. You don’t take enough care of yourself…” you rambled on, lecturing him like a mother hen, trying to hide the racing of your heart and the newly realized desire worming its way through you.

Daryl loosened his arm from around your middle and put his hand on the side of your face. “You ain’t nothin’ I cain’t handle.”

Your belly was suddenly full of butterflies and your heart was in your throat.  Lord help you, he was sexy and sweet and charming. His words, his voice, his touch, it all trapped you in a silent fullness until your heart, mind, and body only wanted more of Daryl Dixon

Yes, he had indeed shut you up.

*

Daryl, with all he had, restrained himself from slamming his mouth on yours, putting himself between your legs, and claiming you there and then.  He hadn’t expected anything like this happening; he’d just wanted you safe and comfortable. But now, heaven and earth could not move him, neither closer nor farther. He was getting hard, just by having you near and the look in your eyes as you watched him silently. He angled his hips away but kept his upper body close to yours.

Sure, you were heavier than the average person, but it was no extra burden to him, not when you were lush and soft and letting him hold you. He should be grateful enough that you’d let him this close, let him sleep next to you in his truck, in the RV.  He would sleep beside you any time you allowed it.

“You are so fucking soft,” he murmured, more to himself than you, but of course you heard him. Your ear was right next to his mouth.  Come to think of it, your neck and earlobe seemed to be begging for his lips and tongue. No, he told himself.

“I-I-I’m sorry. I’ve always been this way,” you stammered, and it only made him want you more.

He slid his hand from your face to squeeze your plump shoulder.  “It wasn’t a complaint.”

Fuck, what was wrong with him.  Controlling his body was one thing, but apparently controlling his words was a different matter. Here he was, blurting out hidden truths like he’d had five shots of whiskey and no common sense.  Aside from Merle, you were the closest person in the world to him, and he may not even see his brother again.  He needed to be careful not to scare you off or cross any lines that might ruin your friendship.

He removed his hand and found your book on the bed next to him.  He handed it to you and said, “Now hush up.”  He rolled over, both to hide his erection and keep himself from looking at your sexy body and thinking all the things he’d like to do to it.

You scooted away from him, to the other side of the bed, and he, again, had to resist the urge to drag you back to him.

“Ya good over there?” He said over his shoulder.

“Y-yep. Uh…just going to uh…finish this chapter on CIA interrogation methods.”

Daryl huffed, “Yer already good ‘nough at makin’ people talk to you.”

“It’s a book you gave me, so you only have yourself to blame, Daryl Dixon.”

He snorted, clamping down on his urge to draw you into another conversation just to hear your voice. “Jus’ tell me when to turn off the light.”

“Mmhmm,” you murmured.

*

You were thoroughly distracted from your reading, only turning pages as a matter of ceremony. The man was practically naked next to you, all hard muscle and coiled strength.  Heaven help you, but you wanted Daryl Dixon unlike you’d wanted any man in your life.  Sex was never something you cared much about, such a distant thought you’d never had any.  Hell, if he didn’t have you rethinking that lifelong pattern. But he was your friend, the best one you had.  Obviously, if Daryl felt some sort of way about you, he wouldn’t be turning away and pretending you weren’t laying right next to him, your body aflame with want just because he said he liked your softness.

You gave really nice hugs. That’s all he meant.

You turned another page, the words but a blur to your churning mind.  This sleeping arrangement was no different than sleeping next to each other in the RV or his truck. You shouldn’t overthink this. Besides, the air was hot—as usual—and it only made sense for Daryl to sleep without a shirt on. You might even have done it if you were him.  So, no big deal.

Yep, no big deal at all.

You rolled over to face Daryl but kept your distance as you handed him your book.  “I’m finished for the night.”

He took the book and turned off the lantern, and the darkness settled around you.

You started counting to one hundred while breathing slowly to calm yourself.

You felt Daryl also roll over, now facing you, and your eyes started adjusting to the darkness. You could just make out the angles of his face and the shape of him lying next to you.

“Been meaning to talk to you about somethin’,” he rumbled, voice low.

“What’s that?” you whispered.

“Back on the highway…that was rough.”

You realized you had never really talked about what happened, about T-Dog or the walker that almost ate you. You said, “Yeah, it was something we’d never seen before.”

There was a moment of quiet until Daryl said, “Don’t mean the group, I was talkin’ about me.  It was rough on me.”

Daryl had done everything in his power to protect both you and T-Dog. “You saved T-Dog’s life. And mine.”

“Nah,” he said.  “I left you alone under that jeep, and when that walker came…” he trailed off in an inaudible rasp. You heard him take a few deep breaths.  Then in a broken voice he whispered, “Thought I was gonna lose ya.”

Your heart swelled and words were trapped in your throat.  Had he been as scared of losing you as you had been of losing him?  Daryl had never been this vulnerable before, and you almost felt yourself splitting open, inviting him in.

“You didn’t,” you told him. With your hand you carded your fingers through his hair, then you traced your way from his temple, to his cheekbone, along his jaw and chin, memorizing by touch the face you knew so very well.  Then, seizing the bit of courage you had, you placed your hand on his bare chest, over his heart.  A moment later, you felt the roughness of his calloused fingers skimming along your hairline, cupping your cheek, and gently rubbing his thumb on your cheekbone. He held you there in the darkness, the only sounds were the distant nightly calls of summer insects and both of you breathing softly.

Your sexual desire was but a whisper compared to the more insistent need to feel close to Daryl the person, not his body. This was frighteningly intimate, and it had you wishing for things you’d rarely wanted.  What you were beginning to feel for Daryl was different than friendship or even kinship.   At first you thought it was mutual loneliness and daily terror that drew you together.  While your friendship may have started that way, it had gradually changed. Now you wanted him. Not just the protection or convenient companionship, but him: his smiles, his thoughtful words, his touch, his scent, his time.

You had no idea how to navigate this, or even if Daryl felt the same, but as he held you so tenderly, you let yourself imagine he did.

Daryl’s hand slowly slipped away, then he placed his hand over the one you’d left on his chest.  He threaded his fingers through yours and rested your hands on the bed between you.

He whispered, “Ya good?”

“I’m good,” you told him.  You watched the silhouette of his eyelashes flutter closed, felt his body relax, and heard his breathing slow.  You watched him for a while, eventually giving in to your fatigue and falling asleep, his hand still holding yours.

======

AN: In case it wasn't clear, Daryl is drunk on sleep deprivation, hence is lapse in self control.

Please feel free to like, reply, reblog; and thank you for reading!

Next Chapter

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #twd #twd fanfic #plus size #plus size reader #plus size fanfic #mdop #minerva writes #dd/xm #scars and stitches

[lizmindpalace]

Cruel Summer

Sinister Strange x reader; Doctor Strange Supreme x reader.

This is inspired by a dream I had, and slightly by the song "Cruel summer" by Taylor Swift.

Summary: "I love you, " ain't that the worst thing you've ever heard?

Warnings: Hurt/ Comfort. Angst, toxic relationship, and a lot of fluff. It has a lot of summer vibes.

Disclaimer: This is fiction made just for entertainment and should not be confused with things that happen in real life, be aware of toxic relationships, set your boundaries, guys!

Read this on AO3 or Wattpad.

"Christine" The gruff voice broke the silence you had been stuck in for hours, it was not the first time you felt this ravaged, while you looked through the window at the black landscape, at the dead land before you, beyond the borders of the property you called home. You knew it was a forgotten cemetery, the soil covering all the corpses of the individuals of that city, the city whose name, streets, buildings or inhabitants you could not recall, and although he would say you were lucky to be alive, you knew quite well you belonged to them, to the citizens buried under the soil, under the dust, under oblivion. "I've told you not to aimlessly walk around the place, it's dangerous".

It was true, the damages in the place were as hideous as lacerated was your mind, and that was one of the reasons you would never think of leaving, it was not like you had more options either, but the fact that the cold colours that flooded the furniture and tapestries mimicked the colour of your heart, slowly freezing, dying, and everything was as blue as your feelings were, would make you stay if you had had another option. 

You nodded and headed to your chair, where you took a seat and waited for his voice to talk to you, to command you. He plodded towards you with his hands intertwined on his back, next he sat before you and examined you, your face, your eyes, your body. It was always like that, as if he was trying to find an error, a defect, and he was always able to find it because an exasperated sigh followed all the times, as well as an annoyed look. 

"Any plans for today?" You shook your head and looked at the floor. "You can't remember anything?"

Same answer. 

"Alright, I guess you're staying here by my side today".

You didn't emit any comment because there was no need, you knew it quite well. He would always ask the same question, but you were not able to remember. Not a thing, not what you had been before this. All you knew, the man before you was your husband, to whom you had to be devoted to because he had also happened to save your life, regardless the fact you didn't know what from, his face was familiar though, your memories were gone but you were certain you had been by his side for a long time now.

"Oh, sweetheart" His eyes met yours, he was almost kneeling before you and you knew what was going to happen next, his devilish grin stood out in his face. "Do you really want to stay by my side?"

His words were charming but his voice had never sounded like it, in fact, displeasure was always there, not even hiding but in plain sight. 

"Yes, Stephen". 

You assured because you had nothing else left, it was just the two of you in the world, because he was your husband and you were his wife, because you could not help but love him although despair was probably the only reason why you loved him, you needed something (or someone) to clung onto.

"I love it when you're this submissive" his face remained somber as did his voice. You didn't know much after what had happened but to you, that was what hatred would look like, even if he was trying to disguise it somehow and pretend it was love or lust. "You always want to please your beloved husband, don't you?"

You did not know how to react, he was your husband but still a stranger you knew nothing about and yet,  you didn't want to reject him because when you were lying together, that was the only time you could feel something different, as though he realised you were actually the woman he had chosen to marry, to spend eternity with. Even if his fingers gave you the shivers due to the colour they embraced, as if they had touched the depths of his soul, you would not reject their touch; no matter how much icy they were, they would always make you melt.

Stephen was playing with your hair, taking some strands of it and smelling them. You had obliged to lay on his bare chest after your little physical encounter, because you knew it was what he liked, you had got to know a bit of him throughout your aftermath while you were trying to get your old self back. 

You found everything in him fascinating and novel, the shape of his body, his eyes as deep as the ocean; his pale skin  convinced you every time he was indeed a phlegmatic marble sculpture; his lifeless lips; his beefy muscles yet his always languid movements; and even the scars of his secret past that had remained and were now a part of him were captivating to you. You had noticed those cicatrices seemed to brought him terrible memories and a throbbing pain almost unbearable, and you always wondered how he had got those scars in his stomach and lower back that looked so dreadful and must have produced him such a big ache when he got them, as if he had been impaled and left bleeding, because even now that they looked completely healed or at least covered with novel yet red-purple skin, when something touched him by accident in the aforementioned spots, he would always involuntarily tremble as if he had been hit by a lightning strike, so you would avoid touching them at any cost.

"Stephen?" 

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you a favor?" 

He left your hair and met your pupils, his coldest look was back, above the big black bags of his eyes, his coarse hair falling over his wintry forehead giving him an unfathomable aspect. 

"I would like to go out, to see the town, we could go together and..."

"No".

"But I think it would be good for me and my health, I'm always here and I think a little walk, and wandering around would allow me to recover my memories and..."

"I said no". 

The man rose and got dressed with his unusual robes in dark tones, your eyes glistened with tears that were probably not perceived by him, otherwise how he could have left you all alone when he claimed he loved you and wanted the best for you?  His usual expression materialised in his facial features and in his demeanour, he was back to the sea of his thoughts, adrift, but never seeking the way home, back to you. 

"You cannot leave this place, Christine. Never".  His voice quavered, simulating the notes from the nostalgic melody he would play at the dust of the night on the old piano when he thought you were already asleep, the melody that brought you a bunch of terrible lost memories, trepidation as well as distress, you would usually fall asleep to it once you eyes were drained, and find dry tears in your parched cheeks in the morning just because of the anguish it made you feel. It was Stephen's regret, woes and vexation towards you comprised in a song, it was to you as the chirp of a bird of prey, announcing your end. 

"But Stephen, please..."

"It's dangerous out there, and there's nothing to see, that's my final word. And now get up, I don't want you to get depressed again". 

A tear ran through your cheek once he left you there all alone. You should be accustomed to his baffling manners, but somehow it still felt unsettling after all of those weeks of convalescence, you feel used, you feel as if once he had got what he wanted he all of a sudden remembered how much he hated you, you wanted to hate him too, but then you remembered all the times you had found him feeding you warm soup and providing you with medicines and other remedies just in order to make you feel better, you remembered he had told you just bits of your story so you would not get haunted by the past, it also came to you memory how he had received your kisses with that concerned, scared and indecisive look in his eyes, and you just could not help but love him.

"I'm sorry" the voice came out as a whisper, a soft whisper, hatred was not there and instead regret, you could tell it was not feigned. It had been some time after your little argument, maybe a couple of hours and he was back to you. "I just... except for the emptiness, there is nothing left, and this seclusion is better than whatever that remains out there, I could not allow myself to put you or your health at risk, I'm not willing to gamble on your life, the best is if you stay here, please, don't insist".

And then again, sourness in his look, leaving again after you had softly nodded, not convinced about his reasons but with no will to go against his and lose everything (him) again.

Dinner was not any different at first, as every night you remained quiet, certainly, a stranger would be less harsh; he seemed to be distracted thinking about something you could not tell but you knew it was something complicated because he was clearly puzzled. He took the last bite of his meal glaring at you but not seeing you, moving his mouth reflecting doubt, he was making a decision and you held your breath in anticipation. 

"If you really think you need some fresh air and you'll be in an acceptable health condition after it, then  you can go to the garden whenever you feel like it, or what remains of it".

You smiled at him, sincerely, you hadn't expected that, it was one of those few nice gestures towards you that made you feel hope, he didn't hate you, he had just gone through a lot recently, or at least it was what you liked to think. 

 "But don't you dare go beyond the border, otherwise there will be consequences". 

He rose, walked by your side but stopped when you muttered a "thank you, Stephen" and then left a soft kiss on your scalp. 

-

It was the first time you were in the front garden, Stephen had helped you to go downstairs because your weakened legs still trembled a bit, but had left you alone once he had repeated the warning he had given you the night before. You assured him you would stay in the garden and would never step outside, streets looked depressing enough from the distance. You took a seat on the white wooden bench by the side of the building with the book you had taken with you on your lap, over your long skirt that danced to the wind's beat. 

During the weeks you had spent trapped inside the house, you had never seen the sky this way, it had always been black pitch as eternal night, a perpetual thunderstorm smashing onto the ground, with clouds forming eddies that never stopped as an optical illusion that always made you feel dizzy and brought sorrow to your soul since you used to think they were gates  waiting for leading you to the eternal damnation, black holes slowly devouring the lives of the inhabitants of that oneiric world. Whereas, this afternoon, the sky was clearer, albeit it was still gray, some blue hunks, gifts provided by the wind, were shown from time to time. Dewy and dimming clouds that at first were distant moved in swift motion over your head, with their bright edges reminding you the sun was hiding but was still there and waiting for the moment to finally shine up in the sky, over you. 

The place looked different now that you were able to see it from a close distance, it was indeed scattered with residuals, grass, dead plants and an elm that in another times would have been deciduous but now was still waiting for the spring spirit to embrace it and to grow some leaves, his branches and roots slowly encroaching on the walls and everything at reach. You tried to focus on your book and the tragic love story developing within its pages despite the desolated wilderness you had before you that brought nostalgia and sadness to your heart, until as announced, a lightning split the sky into two and some drops fell into the pages of your book. You looked up, exposing your face to the raindrops, to the call of life. 

"Time to go in" your husband stood in front of you, you could perceive he was upset once more. "I don't want you to get ill". 

You nodded and obliged to cross the threshold after him. 

"You see, it was not a good idea to go there, you look pale, you are not ready for this". He didn't look at you, he was watching outside, he was staring at the rain lashing, pelting the circled window, and you realised it was the first time you saw the rain, it was novel, yet somehow familiar, you wished to be under it, to feel it, but you knew quite well he would not allow it. 

"It was!" You quickly responded. "I'm grateful because I had the chance to be there today, to feel the wind on my face, thank you Stephen".

He nodded and remained silent, you had already noticed he was not the talkative type of man. You left your place and headed to the kitchen where you took a book filled with old recipes, even if you didn't remember how to cook you had tried it a few times over the last couple of weeks because you were bored since there was nothing to do there except for mundane activities. After a not too long period of time you were asking Stephen for permission to come into his office and offered him a tart with the apples you had managed to find. He looked a bit surprised at it, it looked good enough and it was something he had probably not foreseen because you read disbelief in his face. 

"It is to thank you for allowing me to go out". 

"There was no need, it's not like I am keeping you captive I'm just concerned about you... but thank you". He beamed, you sat before him once he had nodded and you two had a slice of it with some iced tea, and for the first time,  even though the both of you were silent, the atmosphere was peaceful and you didn't feel that weight on your back you were so used to, the weight that always indicated you to behave in certain way, so he would not get angry at you, you would always try to maintain a low profile when being around. "It was scrumptious". 

You smiled at him and dared to kiss his cheek before leaving him with his work or whatever he was doing. 

"Stephen, I was wondering if you could... somehow get me some seeds. Perhaps I could..." 

He sighed.

"...Of course if it is not too much of a problem".

"No, it's ok, I'll bring you some once I have the opportunity then... any specifications?" 

"Just the colourful type of flowers?" 

He nodded and joined you in the bed without saying a single word, not even a good night kiss, he looked exhausted although you could tell he had not had more business to take care of than usual. He allegedly fell asleep almost immediately because his breath became heavier, you admired him, he looked peaceful when he was sleeping, despair was gone. All of a sudden, you gasped in horror when you found out his damn cunning third eye remained open and was scrutinising you, making you freeze, it was always unbearable, finally it closed and you decided your husband was completely asleep. You were trying to get rid of the feeling that eye gave you, so you stared at the ceiling, you were not seeing it, you were just reflecting about your situation, trying to retrieve any memory that gave you a clue of what events had led you into your current situation. It was very late in the night when an idea crossed your mind. Why did Stephen seem to hate you at times? You were his wife, and if you were married then he would have had to love you at some point in the past. Unless he was incapable, but from time to time you could see in his eyes a glimpse of love, so that was not the reason for that attitude... Perhaps it had all been your fault. Yes, it all made sense that way. Maybe you should talk to Stephen and make things clear, although knowing him and his extreme paranoia about your health he might refuse your initiative, besides he had always avoided that subject. Before the sun rose that morning you knew exactly what you would do in order to make things right between the two of you.

When you got up it was already late, you were still weak and you had gone to sleep late besides, so the first task you had planned in your mind had been a failure. Your husband was away you could tell, he did that from time to time, you did not know much but he would get supplies for the both of you from god knows where, it was the only time he would leave for the day so you thought it was a good idea to take advantage of the time. 

You cleaned the house, which was such a complicated activity since it was almost ruined, not just the structure but everything else was falling into pieces, the tapestries and furniture were scratched, the ceiling had damp, there were papers and music sheets all around the floor, and the old fashioned ornaments were scattered, you stopped yourself for a minute in order to contemplate everything surrounding you; the furniture and objects made the place look as an abandoned gothic manor, and you realised the dismal vibe it had could be the cause  you two were so down all the time, that was why it was important to get it cleaned, you tried not to touch anything of his strange belongings, and after some hours you could see it was decent enough and it was enough of a remarkable change. You prepared a good dinner and put on your best dress. That should do, that should emend your errors from the past, that should be a sign to start over for the two of you.

Stephen Strange came out of nowhere as he always did, with a lot of bags in his arms and you quickly assisted him with some.

"It is not necessary, I can handle it". 

You nodded and gave him your brightest smile. 

"What is this all about?" He asked once he looked at you more carefully, he noticed the change in your aspect, and he also noticed the arrangement of the table: the candles, the wine and the good looking dishes on it. He looked around and could almost feel as if he was somewhere else, somewhere less emotionally depriving. 

"Nothing... I mean, I've been feeling better and that's because of you, so I decided it was a good idea to celebrate a bit. You must be starving, come on, let's have dinner". 

He frowned and followed you. He enjoyed the dinner and the small talk afterwards about dinner itself, music and book preferences, nevertheless, he changed his mind once you started to ask him about the past as though he had run out of words and with no further explanations he cut you off by saying past was not important anymore; and even if you really wanted to know what had happened you decided you could manage to develop some kind of strategy to make him talk some other day, but right now you needed to be cleverer, you needed to win him over, besides, you had seen him more cheerful than usual and that made you feel good too. 

"Perhaps we should go to sleep" you suggested in an attempt to change the subject, to keep his good mood. 

"Yes... but before that, you know, I actually have a present for you too" Stephen softly smiled at first, took something from the inside pockets of his jacket, because he would dress different every time he left, and offered you some small paper packets. You took them excited, and you found out they were the seeds you had asked for and a wider smile lit up your face, your eyes shone and Stephen's gestures softened again, deep down he had been hoping that reaction would show up in your face. 

"Thank you, Stephen" you ran towards him since you were trying to get the table clean before heading to your bedroom and kissed his lips, thrilled, next you wrapped him into your arms and although he was astonished due to your gesture he didn't let go. 

As many other nights, that one ended with both of your bodies entwined but this time, you felt different, everything had happened under different circumstances driven by new feelings that made your heart race and your stomach ache in the best of ways, you could actually feel something else inside you, beyond habit, and you did not know why but you had a feeling, you were sure that night your lives would change forever. 

-

"Good morning, love". 

You smiled, you had been ready this time, you had woken up earlier, therefore you had the chance to prepare a nice breakfast that was ready by the time he was just coming out of your bedroom, still half asleep, still with the hair tangled, it was the first time you used those words to refer to him and it made your pulse rush.

"Good morning", he replied, the same sort of shock of the good type reflected in his face. "I was wondering where were you, it smells very good I can say". He had taken a moment to breathe in deeply. 

"Please, sit down and let's eat breakfast together". You smiled, he behave as a gentleman and helped you to sit in front of the table. 

After breakfast and once you had finished your cup of coffee, he took care of the plates, therefore you hurried out to the garden because you could not hold your excitement back anymore, you had taken your seeds with you and everything that could be of use in order to revive that wrecked garden. You started to cut and remove everything that was wilted since you needed space for the flowers you wanted to grow there. You could already see th epicture in your head, you read a lot and it only made your imagination to go wild. 

It was a fact you had been feeling so much better and you were also trying to focus on the future instead of the detrimental past that used to revolve as a bunch of clouds that blinded your thoughts, which had brought as a result mental health that could also be translated into  physical health almost all the time, you still felt a bit weak from time to time and sleepy, the headaches were gone though. You had to hurry or the rain would take away your opportunity to clean up that mess just like the other day. You even started to sing at a low voice while you were working, and it was the first time you did so, an indicator of how well you were doing. 

All of a sudden you noticed a shadow moving from behind you, perhaps it was not a big deal but it made you fear for your life, you stopped singing and got paralysed,  your eyes widened in shock, the man wrapped into dark robes with a funny expression that could be mistaken by a murderer's look was holding a shovel, walking towards you, he had made you freeze. Opposite to what you had thought at first glance, he didn't seem to have any intentions of murdering you. 

"Let me help you with that". He started to make small holes with his tool, he had seen the shock in your face and a tiny smile appeared in his, once you saw his intentions were not as dark as you had first thought, you planted the seeds in the small holes he had made and watered them.  

"Thank you" you whispered when you had succeeded in finishing the job, he smiled. Next you laughed at him, after looking at him carefully, he looked at himself too and discovered you were laughing at the mess on his clothes and face, the soil on them had become mud. 

"But look at you" You looked at your dress and hands, you were definitely a big mess too and you couldn't help but laugh even louder. Stephen dared to laugh too, finally. As loud as he could. It was the first time you heard him laugh, a new sound you were sure you would love for the rest of your life. As though life had come back to him and flooded his veins, lighting up his face and eyes. You two had never been happier and even if you found it hard to believe, the sun might have wanted to join your celebration because it dared to shine leaving the clouds far behind, it even felt a bit warmer. 

You stared at it until you realised you were starting to see black spots due to the great amount of light it provided, so you just closed your eyes but kept your face in its direction as well as your smile, it felt so odd, yet so good, life was also coming back to you, you breathed out and in, your lungs filling with pure air. The sky was blue in addition, light blue, a colour you had never seen in it before. The wind blew softly and an exhale came out of you, it reflected joy and peace, the peace you had been longing for. 

You opened again your eyes once you felt the cold hands of your husband grabbing yours, you stared at him for a couple of seconds, you were glowing because of the joy you were experiencing. You held his icy hands, his eyes were examining you again, he was not being cruel this time though, he was being curious, you could tell by his expression, it seemed he hadn't found the defect he was always looking for, instead, you could read tenderness in his eyes. He took his gloomy fingers to your face and softly placed his lips on yours. 

-

Some weeks later, things had changed for the both of you, you were happier than you had ever been and it was reflected in your appearance, you weren't thin, languid or pale anymore, now your cheeks had reddened and your eyes shone all the time. Change could also be perceived in Stephen who looked a bit more alive and now smiled more often, which was good news to you, nevertheless, the most meaningful change had been his attitude towards you, it felt as if hatred had also been replaced for love. You spent days strolling in the garden, reading, sharing thoughts on the books you read, baking together, admiring the sky, holding each other until it was time to sleep. 

That morning the intense sun shone, standing out on the blue sky, with no clouds surrounding it, the flowers ranging to yellow sunflowers, daisies, violets to pink and red roses that you two had planted had finally bloomed, you could perceive their aroma right from where you were standing, even if you were inside just looking from the window and you got the feeling of being stuck in an enchanted forest. The sunlight provided life to the green leaves that stuck out on the blue sky, the wind created dancing shadows with them and the bees had came out of nowhere, these had also happened to invite some birds, such as the cute swallow that was perched in the elm, which had also come back to life, and had woken you up that morning when the sky was still red and the clouds were orange due to the rise of the sun. You were looking at it through the dormer window, thanking life for giving you the chance to admire the other side of nature, the pleasant one, you remembered you had reached a point where you used to think you would blend in with the dark clouds, with the shadows of the house, you had thought of yourself as a ghost that could never escape and would forever keep surveillance of the house against intruders but would never be seen or heard, and you would look at them living the thrilling life you had longed and had never come. Now you had some kind of hope things were going to be fine, Stephen himself had been doing some reparations in the house, thus it didn't look as a ruined kirk in the middle of nowhere anymore, instead it looked more like a home, your home. The sunlight came towards the windows creating shadows that made you feel the house was alive, sometimes you thought it was just so quiet, even beyond the borders of the property the dead hills looked greener and lightened by the sunlight, the distant trees had flourished and the desolation picture was almost gone. You were doing just perfect or almost, since that morning you felt odd, nostalgic, sad, as you hadn't felt in a long time now, perhaps you had acquired some kind of virus because your eyes glistened and it was not because you wanted to cry, or maybe you wanted because thinking about all what had happened before made you feel weird, although you really felt a bit sick, you decided it was nothing to worry about and kept enjoying the view instead.

"I'll get us some supplies, sweetheart". The man stood behind you, waiting for you to look at him before he made his way out. 

"May I go with you, Stephen?"

"I don't think it is a good idea..."

"... Please. I'll behave, no one will know I'll be there, I'm just so curious about it, I don't know anything but this".

"Trust me, it's better for the both of us if you stay here".

You sighed and looked at your feet, your eyes filled with the tears that you attempted to hold back, it would not have mattered, it was not such a big deal, but that morning was one of those. You didn't want to feel like that, you didn't want to cause either worry or wrath in your husband now that he had been acting so differently towards you.

"It's ok, be careful, be back by dinner time". Your voice stammered even if you tried to remain calm, but your body was betraying you. You nodded but didn't look at him, instead trudged to your bedroom.

"May I come in?" Stephen popped in and asked, you nodded as only response. 

"Sorry Stephen, I didn't mean to throw a hissy fit just because of this". 

"And that is why I am concerned, I've been watching you these days, what's going on? Are you ill?" 

You shook your head. 

"I'm fine".

"You're sensitive, even more than you used to be, and you're starting to look pale again, is there something you're not telling me?"

You denied again. 

"Alright, then I suppose I will have to spoil you a bit in order to make you feel better, I don't want you to lose that smile of yours ever again, come with me".  He offered his hand. 

"Are you serious?"

"It's not a big deal after all, I reckon everything will be just fine if you do behave". He grinned and so did you. 

You stepped out the bedroom and he held your hand in his once he opened that magical gate you had seen before but had never had the chance to cross. You did not expect to feel something because of it since you thought it was just a door, but you did, it was not as simple as to go across an ordinary door. The blue sparks that it irradiated made you feel as if the atoms within you body had vanished and brought together a new you, you were dizzy for a while after you crossed to the other side, you two had to take a seat before walking inside the place you aimed to visit, Stephen wanted you to go back but you assured him it was all because of that new experience and after a few minutes you would be fine. 

It was a huge place, filled with racks and racks of the things you were used to see in your cupboards, there was a crowd making a hubbub, you had never been to a place that felt as alive as this one. Stephen got a little funny cart. 

"Now, you have to choose what you want to take home and put it here, bring with you everything you need and want". 

You nodded and after walking through some corridors your trolley was full, you had taken goods ranging from pasta to soap and a new blanket. 

"And now what?"

"Well, they check this and this" he showed you some sort of an ID with his name in it. "And we take it home since here food is for free". 

You certainly didn't expect it to be that way according to what you had read so far, but it was quite a good surprise so you simply smiled, although suddenly your smile was replaced by something else, an awkward expression. 

"Stephen, before we get into that long queue, is there a chance I can use the toilet?" You asked all of a sudden.

"Of course!" Stephen guided you through the store until you finally reached the corner with the sign that indicated you had arrived, you looked pale. "Are you ok?"

"I will be" you hurried.

"I'll wait for you over there" he gestured at a bench not so far away from the spot you were standing. 

You didn't have time to say anything else although you did listen to what he had said. You barely had the chance to close the door before you threw up, disgust took over you but also something else, the reason why you started to cry  the next second, you didn't know what was coming about, you had been doing so much better, your health was improving and now this, what was happening to you? Were you dying? Stephen didn't have to know, you decided. Still you were scared, angry and devasted at the same time.  

You stood in front of the mirror while you washed your face, you observed your pale skin, the wide bags under your eyes, and that eerie light in your pupils, then a distant thought crossed your mind. You remembered the last days and you realised you had been having these symptoms over the last two weeks, increasing gradually until they were now noticeable and hard to ignore, and then you also thought about the lack of blood over the last month. It was so obvious but you still were recovering, trying to adapt so you had paid no attention. Your heart raced and your legs trembled when the idea became clearer, you felt as if all of a sudden you were isolated again with no one out there to help you. A rough draft of a plan crossed your mind, you were afraid, but this was the only chance you would have in who knew how long. It was now or never. 

You slipped outside the bathroom, you could see Stephen in the distance, he was distracted looking at nothing, so you took that chance and walked through the corridor until you reached the section "pharmacy" it read, you knew you would find what you were looking for there, because it was logical, besides the tour guide (Stephen) had explained every area of the place in detail. You reached for a shelf, the box with pink and blue lines drawn on it, you breathed in deeply and took it, saved it in your bag, you would do it when you were back home, even though you were dying due to the uncertainty he would get suspicious if you took longer in the bathroom.  

"Hey you have to pay for that!"

The man with the uniform yelled at you. You ran scared because you were not sure what was going on, Stephen had told you everything was for free, so why would he start chasing you as if you were some kind of criminal? You did not know, you were confused and scared. It had been too much in just a couple of minutes. You had no other option but to run towards your husband who was still patiently waiting for you to go out the toilets.  

"Thief!" The man was running after you, which was the more reason to escape.

"What's going on?" Stephen jumped from his seat and stood between your persecutor and you, you sheltered behind him as if you were a little girl. 

"She's stealing, sir... "  

Stephen groaned, exasperated due to the attitude of the man, he knew for the better humans in that specific universe were harder to deal with and made so much noise for nothing, instead of talking, they would attack. 

"I'm sure it is just a misunderstanding. How much is it?" He reached for his wallet. 

"900".

"Alright, here you are, now leave her alone". He handed him a couple of notes that covered the amount and the other man left looking at you with suspicion. "Sorry, dear. Just food is for free and some basic supplies, we have to pay for the rest, I should have warned you. But you should have told me you needed medicine, well actually, you should have asked for advice first, I'm a doctor after all, anyways, I would have paid for it... you feel ill, isn't it? That is for your illness".

You moved your head affirmatively. And again tears fooled you and ran through your cheeks with no way of stopping them. 

"It's all fine, darling, come on let's go home. I assure you, you'll be fine, I knew you had to stay home". 

Stephen compeled you to sit on your bed while he prepared dinner, and you took that chance to flee to the bathroom. You looked at the box and read the instructions carefully, did as it was indicated and waited for what seemed hours. 

"Dinner is ready, do you want me to take it to the bedroom?"

"No, I'll go to the table, just a second". 

"You sure?"

You didn't have another option but to head to the table because you knew quite well that if you took longer he would be dubious. 

"Aren't you going to eat?" Stephen frowned at you while you stared at your food and played with it using your fork. 

"I'm not really hungry" you were starving or had been before the smell of the pasta made you sick to the stomach, you wanted to throw up again. Twice a day now, you were absolutely worried.

"I see, you need a check-up".

"I'm fine, Stephen, I will prove you I can eat" he looked at you, he could see you were even more pale. You managed to eat a bit of your pasta without discarding it. "Ok that's it for today, I'm stuffed and tired".

He scowled at you and you slipped out of the kitchen to your bedroom, the time required had passed and you could not help but feel even more sick because of the whole situation. You were afraid of whatever the result would be, you didn't know what you were going to do to face any of those possible circumstances. You breathed in, checked the instructions in the box again a couple of times, a single line indicated you probably were never going to get better, and two of them indicated that probably after some time, you would. Your hands trembled because you were not able to contain or manage your emotions, you were drowning in them as if a wave had stolen your breath. You didn't want to look at it, you wished Stephen was there by your side holding you, telling you whatever the result was, he was going to be with you, love you and you would face it together and then everything would be fine, but although he had changed over the last few weeks, you did not know how he would react and you were scared that improvement was only a cover for some kind of hidden intentions. 

The world revolved around you, your head was about to blow up, you were so confused, so scared. It was only two lines and they had forever changed your life in just a few seconds, you sobbed and you did not know why. What was the problem? You were married, that was probably something you had been expecting at some point. 

"Hey? Are you alright?" The man you were so afraid of for some reason you could not understand knocked at the door because he had heard your sobbing. 

"I am" you stuttered. 

"Open the door". 

You obliged to remain calm, you didn't know what to do, so for now you saved the pregnancy test on the box and hid it, just until you found the right words to tell him, since at some point it would be impossible to hide. You opened the door and went out, you tried your best to hold back your weep. 

"What is happening to you? I reckon I thought it was nothing serious until this morning. You can tell me, otherwise how am I supposed to help you?"

"Do you love me, Stephen?"

He looked at you as if you had developed a third eye in your forehead. 

"What does it have to do...?

"Just answer, why are we married? Do you love me?"

"What do you know?"

"What?" 

"There must be a reason you are asking this now, what do you know?"

"I see, you don't".

You were lost in that conversation for sure, what was he hiding? You had always had the feeling it was something dark in your past but this just confirmed it and left you hopeless.

"That is not what I said!"

"In fact, you did not say anything. I knew it, deep down I have always known it but I had hope. Don't worry, Stephen. Don't feel bad about it, one cannot oblige oneself to feel. You didn't break me, I already was". 

You took your place on your side of the bed and wrapped into the blankets you started to think about what the future would be for you and the little being inside you, who allegedly would not be wished or loved by their father either. 

You heard a suspire leaving him, he left you there all alone, you did nothing but wait until sleep embraced you.

A couple of days later and Stephen barely talked to you, because you had in fact been avoiding him. You refused to go out and even to leave the bed, you felt so bad both physically and mentally you only wished you could disappear. You had had so much time alone and yet you hadn't made up your mind, you looked again at the test you were holding, you wanted to throw it away and keep the secret to yourself, but your thoughts were back to the point where you knew it would be impossible to hide in just a couple of months, you were absorbed in your thoughts, hopeless.

 "So this is what it was all about?" you were indeed so absorbed you didn't notice you weren't longer alone, and the man you shared your home (and your life) with was standing before you with rage in his gaze.  "What is that? Show me". 

You had failed in your attempt of hiding it under the white covers when you suddenly realised you had company, and you found Stephen had already taken it from you because you were feeble and his strength was in all senses more powerful than yours, your hand had froze under his grasp. He held the small device in his fingers and you noticed it took him a some seconds to recognise its function. His gaze traveled from the device to your face in a few seconds, stupefaction drawn in his features. 

"Oh sh-...! It can't be... how?" he whispered, your eyes filling with tears again, how dare he ask that? The reaction you had feared was now with no doubts, real. He was disgusted and also  you oculd tell he felt the kind of feeling that produced regret and shame. "Are you really pregnant? This cannot be happening". After that, he didn't say anything else or demanded an answer since words had been snatched from your mouth and from his, you could only feel wrath and could not stop crying, whereas he kept looking at the two bars in disbelief, his face getting darker and darker, the Stephen you had first met was back and the happiness you two had had over the last couple of weeks was now gone, probably forever. He left, closing the door behind his back, leaving you with your shattered heart and a growing sour and despair in your soul. Your fate was clear: loneliness. Therefore, you had two choices, to keep that new life by your side and raise them in that ominous world all on your own, or accompany them to the land you truly believed you should be an inhabitant of, the land of death. Your breakable heaven had proven its fragility, and now you had hit the ground with no way to ascend again. 

-

It had been two weeks since the last time you had seen Stephen, you were sad and angry and in addition the pregnancy was being rude at you, you could barely walk without wanting to throw up, you detested the taste of food as well as its smell. And in addition, you did not have as much energy as you would have liked, since you spent most time lying in your bed, sleeping, and the little time you wandered around the house, you always found yourself standing, looking through the dormer window, secretly waiting for Stephen to cross the garden gate and look at you from below. Your hormones made your feelings more intense and you felt more isolated than ever, anyone could say you were more than ready to give up. 

At that point you could only feel hatred towards Stephen, yet you could not help but still worry about his whereabouts, you didn't have any way to contact him, Stephen had disappeared, vanished into the summer breeze that had become a gale, he had left you alone with no way out. If he did not come back soon you would starve to death (and your child along with you), which was probably his plan, now you could see: a slow solitary death. Whatever you had done in the past must have been one of the most grievous massacres committed by humankind because otherwise, no one could deserve that, furthermore, Stephen could not be less of a villain that you were in any case, since you now were sure he was not capable of having feelings because he was not able to show compassion towards you either, not even in those circumstances. You didn't know very well what to do, but you decided you would fight until the end, until Stephen came back to you and was himself with his own hands who tore you apart and yet you would fight for yourself and for the one who was not guilty of anything but somehow was already suffering, until your last breath left you. 

You got up and wandered all around the house, room by room, and although most doors were locked, it took you a while to explore it, you even dared explore the basement, the one you were so afraid of, you always heard noises coming from it, when you knew very well there was no one there except for shadows. As you had foreseen, besides darkness and dust you could not find anything helpful, and you were about to leave it, when you heard a noise coming from an old wardrobe, it was the sound of someone knocking at the door, and for a second you were afraid Stephen had been stuck in it for the whole two weeks, you hurried and opened the wooden door. Against everything that had crossed your mind, you found a piece of purple and black cloth, that fluttered over you, and then revolved around, as if it was scrutinising you. You attempted to leave before it hurt you, but finally the object that you soon realised was a cloak landed on your shoulders. You were paralysed for a couple of seconds until you decided to go upstairs because the basement was frightening enough.  

"What the hell?" You exclaimed once you realised the cloak would not recede, you were looking at it in the mirror, trying to take it off with no results, you sighed, giving in, at least it didn't seem to be dangerous, you addressed to it still looking at the both of you in the mirror. "Alright, you can stay there if that's what you wish, I don't care, still I have to find that idiot, so if you try to stop me, then you'll face an angry mother to be". And you decided your new companion was inoffensive and would not harm you, and on the contrary, it was friendly

As last resource, you went out to the garden, it had been a log time since you had been there and the image you remembered of it, seemed far away, it had nothing to do with the pretty enchanted garden you had seen the last time. You found a gray sky that threatened to drop a thunder over you, the flowers you had seen so colourful and alive were all wilted for no apparent reason, the sun had hidden again, welcoming the devasted landscape you had known; the tornadoes were also back in the black sky and for a second you wished one of them would actually trap you and kill you, you sighed, you were exhausted. Your life had receded to your first memories and you wondered if you hadn't got fever in the first place and you had imagined the good time you had spent with your so-called husband, was he even real? He had to be, otherwise, how would have you managed to be there and survive that long?

"Where are you Stephen Strange?" you groaned looking around, as if you were playing hide and seek and he would jump over you at any second, trying to surprise you.    

The cloak over your shoulders finally took off and levitated until it was in front of you, it held your hand, or rather wrapped your hand and guided you until you almost crossed the black metallic fence, you stopped yourself, trying to prevent the cloak from getting you out the lands belonging to the house, remembering the warning Stephen had given you, you asked yourself if the risk out there was that important, if it would be worse than starving, than being all alone there in complete uncertainty. Stephen was not at sight, so you had not option but venture yourself into the unknown, beyond the borders you would not have dared to cross otherwise, allowing the flying cloth that seemed to have a personality of its own to guide you through the stairs you had never been able to see before and into the path that soon became indistinguishable.

Once you had got down through that immense staircase that certainly you didn't expect to find, everything changed. Air had stopped being the medium which you used to breath, and that was probably the reason the new environment surrounding you was drowning you, at first sight it looked like an immense dead sea that led to a big door which was closed so you attempted to cross that sea. Soon enough you blindly trudged on the swamp under your feet. You had not had time to reflect on it, but what was before your eyes was nothing you had expected to find, not even in your dingy nightmares, from the dormer window in the upper floor you would always see the bleak rugged cliffs that stood out on the dismal horizon, colorless except for the days when you had got to know joy; you would also perceive the ruins of the structures and the shadows of the church that stuck out over the precipice when moon came out, remanence of the tragedy you all had been victims of, the leftovers of civilisation, of life, now whereas, instead of walking down those streets you used to distinguish from the distance, you were slowly submerging into an abyss that seemed to be filled with black ink, the ink Stephen had used to create your world, to create you.

Blackness was the only thing you could discern, your breathing became more and more irregular the longer you spent there, you could still feel the cloak that held your hand though, and you thought you were going to faint at any second, because in the middle of that suffocating atmosphere, you could see a glimpse of light, something that didn't belong there. 

"Help me, please" a distant disembodied voice pleaded, a voice you knew quite well.

"Stephen? Where are you?" 

You walked until you reached the spot that was not as dark as the rest. There he was, Stephen Strange, he looked different though, his beard wasn't as untidy as it usually was, neither was his hair, among other features such as the lack of paleness of his skin that made you doubt for a second he was your  Stephen Strange, he was standing, looking at you, pain was reflected in his gestures.  

"Come with me, Stephen". You offered your hand.

"Oh, yes, you are pregnant, I knew it, I knew it ever since the beginning, I'm a doctor after all" never daring to touch you, he had had just a glimpse of you, he smiled weakly. 

"I'm pregnant with our child, Stephen, come home with us". 

"I want to, but you have to help me".

"How?"

"I don't know" he tried to hold your hand but you realised he was incapable of touching anything, he was a ghost. 

"You're dead".

"Not yet".

"What is happening?" You had started to weep because it was too much for you, all of it. 

"You need to find the book, you need to destroy it, otherwise I'll be dead, and so will you". 

"What book?"

"THE DARKHOLD!" He was exasperated, he did not really know what to do. 

"I will, but come with me". You promised although you did not know what he was talking about, perhaps he had just gone crazy. 

"I can't! It was a mistake... I should have never used it in the first place, I was so obsessed... Christine was never meant to be mine".

"Oh, but I am, I am yours and you're mine, Stephen".

A sour laugh came from his mouth.

"Oh darling, but you are not Christine". 

"Wh-"

"I cannot explain that now, look for the book, and don't allow me to get it first. You better take care of her... of them, understood?" 

The cloak nodded, Stephen all of a sudden had turned into a motionless sculpture that slowly vanished and you sighed in awe at him, your companion took you back home, you laid on the dead grass trying to recover your forces and breath since you were almost choking out there, and to dispel the shock, you didn't know what was happening. You nodded off, you ended up exhausted after your little adventure. 

"Christine!" There he was, the Stephen you knew, the chaotic one, you didn't know what to think, everything was so odd, you didn't longer know when to rely on your senses, according to you, you had just seen a healthy Stephen back then and now you were caught by the curious gaze of the pale, malicious one. "Where were you? And where did you get that from?" 

"From the basement, where I was... I was looking for you and I thought you were trapped inside a wardrobe".

"Well I wasn't" he careless took the cloak and twisted and squeeze it in his fingers, his knuckles reddened due to the force he was applying, so much you perceived the cloak started to shift in pain, and you were sure it would have screamed and pleaded for help if it had been capable of, you feared for its fate because now Stephen had also started to use that lights, probably magic, and he was slowly burning it.

"Please, can I keep it?" You took part because Stephen was really hurting it, you did not know how was that possible since it was an object but you had to do something. "It's warm". 

He furiously looked at it and then at you. He gave up and threw it at you with contempt.

"I guess you can, it is useless after all, make sure it behaves, otherwise..."

"I'll make sure".  You took it from his hands and wrapped it around yourself as if it was a blanket, it slightly trembled around you, and you felt sorry for it, you'll repair it later. You changed the subject because Stephen kept looking in suspicion at the both of you. "Where were you?"

"Away, I needed to think".

"So?"

"So?"

"Are you still angry at me because I am pregnant?" You stuttered.

"What? I was never angry at you because you were pregnant".

Surprise was drawn in your face.

"I was angry at myself for letting that happen". He explained himself. 

 Disbelief replaced your latter expression. He had guts to tell you that you had to recognise that. 

"Why Stephen? Why do you hate me this much? Did I do something wrong to you? Did I hurt you somehow?" You asked, muddled. 

"Don't say nonsense, I don't hate you, where did you get that idea from?" Bewildered, he asked and it was not feigned, in his head he could not understand why you thought he hated you.

"Then why do you keep treating me like this? What is happening? Why are you so 'angry at yourself' because I got pregnant? We are married, you know, that's normal, that's something that would happen at some point". By that time, you were already a sobbing mess because you were not able to control your feelings no matter how hard you tried, he was breaking you with every single word. 

"It's complicated and no worth of explanation, you don't need to know, now let's go, it's freezing, in your state it won't do any good". 

"I won't go anywhere if you don't want us in your life. It is ok, you can leave again, we don't need you". Your tears disguised behind the raindrops that even though had just started to pelt had already left you soaking wet, Stephen looked at you, he was trying to act distant but you could read sadness in his eyes, he tried to remain quiet but you knew he was actually dejected, you knew quite well that feeling and how it looked, you had had the chance to feel it a few times in the past. 

"Oh come on, don't start talking in plural, it is ridiculous and annoying, now come in." He tried to sound serious but he was indeed downhearted, you could hear it. He grabbed your hand, just after he softly wiped your tears away. 

-

"It won't show up until at least the end of the third month, so you can stop that".

You sighed and looked at the man who was apparently concentrating on a book, he had fooled you at first, but it was noticeable he was actually paying attention to what you were doing due to his commentary, you had been admiring yourself in the mirror in your bedroom for a couple of minutes now, you were wondering when you would be able to see your child's face, to hold him or her in your arms, you had taken your hands over your belly and smiled softly at your mental picture, the one where you had a big bump showing. Cloakie, as you had started to call it, appeared all of a sudden landing on your shoulders and avoiding Stephen to keep judging your actions, you smiled a bit when you saw your husband made a grimace due to the cloak's action. 

"Could you at least stop your bids to make my life miserable and allow me instead to enjoy this? I know for some reason  I cannot understand you did not want this to happen but it is neither my fault or the baby's, so shut up!"

"Sorry". It was a suspire coming from him this time, you did not know what was going through his mind, but you didn't like to think about it, it always gave you an awful feeling,  even imagining what was he thinking gave you the shivers, perhaps he was thinking of murdering you, the darkness in his eyes threatened you.

"Forget about it, I'll go out, you always get to ruin my mood, congratulations". 

"Where?"

"To the museum, of course. To the garden, genius".

"Do not..."

"Trespass the border, I know. Keep reading, I'll be ok, I just need some time alone". 

You were acting brave because Stephen had made you angry since the last time he had just vanished without worrying about you or your baby, yet it was hard, you were scared but you had to pretend you were brave enough to face him to let him see you were willing to do anything to protect the life inside you even if that meant losing him, because he was not longer the most important you had, he was not longer the only thing you had left, the only thing to hold on; you had the impression he was way more dangerous than you thought, you could see it from time to time in the shadows that crossed his eyes when he was looking away, in the nights when he was lying pretending to be asleep, in his devilish grinning, in his dark fingers... You made sure Stephen was not actually following you before you ventured yourself into the unknown.

"You stay here and let me know if he comes before I am back".

The cloak crossed its edges as if they were arms over what could have been its chest, but you continued anyways, because you needed to get things mended, because according to the Stephen's ghost you had talked to, it was the only way to make things right between the two of you, and to get to know the truth, the past he had been hiding from you for a long time now. 

It had been just a couple of weeks and it was the third time you went there, every time with a new section of the infamous dark hold. You had found it at plain sight in Stephen's office, the only book that actually gave you the shivers so far, you did not want to reflect about it but its cover looked like old human flesh, his pages were written in a language you could not recognise and the ink seemed to be dry blood, the first time you had touched it your fingertips had become a little bit black, just as Stephen's. You had thought of taking the whole book with you, but for some reason, you could not, so you had decided to rip some pages of it and take them to the outside of the house so you could verify the authenticity of the aforementioned book, although by its creepy look, you could tell that was the book producing such a big damage in your life. 

Since that first time, you would take a few pages to the centre of the darkness where the only light was alive, as a candle guiding you, and you'd let them burn there until they became dust, and as a result the flame became brighter.

"You still have trouble with gags? You look terrible again".

 You nodded. 

"Thank you, you look great, too".

"You know I don't mean it as an offense, stop acting like this, you're not like this".

"You want me to beg for your attention, Stephen, that's it? Well I am tired of it, I thought I had made a terrible mistake in the past and that was why I had earned your hate, but I'm not sure anymore of it, I started to think you never felt anything for me, I've been always a mistake, and as I said before, I cannot force you to love me, us... so I guess your submissive wife, looking for redemption is gone".

He rolled his eyes at you. 

"Well I guess you've drawn my attention after all because I am concerned about the way you look. And even though it's been a while ever since I stopped bringing medical assistance I can still be of help". 

"Thank you, Stephen, but I'll be fine, I just need to lie for a bit". And as you had just said you did. You lied on your back, looking at the roof waiting for the gags to pass, you were sure it wouldn't take that long, even if during the past days you had found out, they took longer and longer to disappear. You fell asleep because it was better that way, the last thing you felt was the cold hand of Stephen caressing your hair, while observing you, a novel feeling reflected in his eyes, it made you feel your work was slowly paying off, you did not want to keep that secret, but it seemed it was the only way you could keep Stephen. 

"I love you". He muttered, wouldn't that phrase be taken as a bad omen for you?

- 

Days drew on, your expeditions were often and often and although you felt completely worn out, you could actually perceive a little change in Stephen. He was being gentle towards you again, and hopefully it was because of what you had been doing, putting your life and your child's at risk and not just because of his unhinged condition. 

"I wanted to apologise". He stated while you were on the bench, days were a bit sunny again, sunny enough to go out to get the summer wind slapping your face without it being uncomfortable. The flowers were starting to recover from the sudden squall that had stomped over them and some green leaves had appeared, decreasing the dismal landscape. You looked at him, he had taken a seat by your side. "I have been terrible at you". 

"Indeed, you have". You didn't move a single inch, you were drained, you gazed up to the sky, at the drifting clouds. 

"Please, I want to fix this". He reached for your hand, and you allowed his cold embrace because you were weak.  

"But do you mean it, Stephen? Or will you change your mind the next second?" 

"I mean it, I give you my word". You sighed, you wanted to believe, but you didn't have any guarantee. He took your hand to his lips and left a gentle kiss on it, and you smiled, sometimes you wished you could get rid of your feelings, they were useless.  "I love you". 

How easy was to fall into his trap, with some gentle words he always got you to lose your will. He was holding you as never before, as if his heart actually was capable of transport warm blood through his body, and you two were talking about how things would turn out for the better for the two of you finally, everything seemed so bright and you thought the book was actually the one causing Stephen to behave in ways he didn't want to. You saw the bright moon shinning over the sky through the window, it was a warm summer night, you could feel the air filling your lungs, cleaning them, hear the trees dancing to the wind, the smell of earth leaking and encroaching your senses. 

"I think this place won't be this quiet ever again very soon, our child will transmit us life and joy. I can't wait to hold our child in my arms". 

"I don't think it is a good idea". 

"Which one?"

"To bring someone else into this world". He sighed, he kept looking at the roof but instead you rose until you were sitting in front of him, looking at his face. 

"What are you talking about?"

"It is not too late yet".

"What? If you are suggesting what I think you are, don't even think about it".

"But why not?" Your face reflected shock and rage. 

"Because I have already decided to keep them, and no matter what you do, I will always protect them". 

"Sentiment is blinding you".

"Of course! Because the baby's inside of me! I know you cannot understand it, but to be honest, I cannot understand either why you hate me this much".

"I don't hate you! If I hated you, you would not be pregnant with my child in the first place!" He was exasperated trying to get you to understand something that actually just made you more and more puzzled.

"Then why would you ever be so heartless to even think something like that? I mean, something I don't want to do, because if I wanted I would have already done it".  

"Think about it, there is nothing here, absolutely nothing. No schools, no other kids, no parks, no museums, nothing or no one but you and I".

"I am sure you'll find the way..."

"I won't. We'll remain in seclusion until the day we both die, there is no way in or way out, and then, that child will live in the same complete seclusion, at least we both have each other, but what will that child do all alone when we are gone?"

"But Stephen..."

"We're trying to do this, and we are already screwing it up".

"We're not trying Stephen, you are not even willing to try". 

"I am! Oh you need more reasons to stop this? Well I have them! Just take a look at who will raise them a..."he suddenly stopped himself, thinking about the effect the information he was about to submit would bring with it. 

"A what? Say it!"

"A MURDERER!"

You required a moment to weigh up the words that had bled from Stephen's mouth before being able to say anything. 

"What are you talking about?"

He had taken his hands to his face, refusing to see you. 

"You wanted to know about the past, right? Well that is just a glimpse, one of their parents is a murderer, and way worse than that".

"Stephen, it must be a misunderstanding".

"Oh it is not! Trust me, everything was made intentionally and with no remorse".

Your eyes were finally reacting to the tough words that implied you were a murderer, you knew it, you had known the whole time there has to be a good reason for the awkward manners of Stephen towards you, from love to hate to love to hate, as if he was always regretting being with you. 

"But maybe there was a powerful reason to do so".

"Is there any reason enough to take an innocent life?"

You started to sob because you knew he was right. 

"Come on, come here" he wrapped you in his arms. "You see? That is why that child cannot come here, there will be more disadvantages than advantages for all of us".

"But Stephen..." You wailed against his chest, and you could feel Stephen was silently crying too.

"I would not ever suggest this if there wasn't a good reason, I could never dare shatter your heart like this if it was not needed. That is why I took two whole weeks with no sleep to think about this, it is not a simple matter. Shh, don't answer me now, just promise me you are going to think about it, I'm sorry for causing you this pain, you don't deserve it". You nodded and as many other nights for the same reason, you felt asleep because you eyes could not handle more, besides you also needed to sleep on the suggestion of the man. 

The next day you were trying to avoid him, everything looked so distant you had thought all of it had been just a nightmare. But once he had the chance to talk, he reminded you of that terrible conversation, things were not as easy as you thought. Wasn't that 'I love you' the worst thing you had ever heard? 

"I don't want to force you to make a decision like this, but the longer you take, the harder it will be". 

"I'm not doing this, Stephen". You assured, you had certainly been thinking hard about it and it was your choice, not his. 

"But, I already explained you..." he was not angry, he was uneasy, restless. 

"If we do this, we would not be doing any improvement, Stephen. This is my chance to start over. You made your point, but there is not enough reason to take this life because I've made my choice, it is my body, my child is wished and loved if not for you, for me, and I'm sure that if you loved them as much as I do, you would find a way out because I've seen you can do things I can't. If you can't, then you will have to kill our child along with me, because I don't think I'm strong enough to survive that grief, and actually I don't have the willingness to do it, this baby is the only reason I have to stay alive, perhaps you should see it like that too".

"Don't say nonsense" The man groaned, his wrinkles standing out on his pale face . "Why can't you see this is not a good idea? I just want the best for you and the child!"

"Stephen, I'm sorry for being so weak, but I cannot do it, and if you try to do it without letting me know, against my will because after all you're probably right, just kill me too, please, because I cannot take this any longer". 

You didn't wait for an answer because you knew Stephen had run out of arguments, he had already given you all of them, and probably he was planning his next move. But so were you, because now that you had decided to fight, you headed to Stephen's office and then right to the forbidden path you had got to know over the last weeks, you snuck in as all the nights in that summer through the garden gate, it felt as if you were sealing your fate with such action.

You watched as the last chunk of paper became ash and dissolved into what you had described as black ink, which only made it darker, opposite to what you had learnt from your last expeditions. You aimed to return home, but some growing whispers coming from everywhere around you, were telling you to stay there, you could tell it was Stephen's voice at first, yet at the same time there were voices of many people suffering, probably  all of those who had died because of you, they were inviting you to stay in their world with them. 

"Your child is damned" The nagging voices kept repeating, they were screaming at you. "Your child is damned because you are damned too". 

You were hypnotised by their murmurs, their hands clasped your body: your arms, your feet, your shoulders, your face and forced you to lie on the mud, slowly burying you on it, your will was long gone, you were not thinking anymore, you were mesmerised by their pleads, you could no longer breath, you felt as if you were in the bottom of the sea, looking up at the sky, without getting to see it a last time, because you had decided to close your eyes, what was left out there anyway?  Probably if you came back you would end up all alone, probably Stephen would run away in the best of the scenarios, but in the most likely, your child would never see the light, and that would kill you anyway. 

You had already stopped thinking, you were sleeping or something that looked like it when you  were dragged through the mud against the wishes of those who wanted to retain you, the black and purple cloak that had became one of your closest friends over the last weeks had ventured itself into the lands or rather, waters of the lost souls and rescued you from their grasp, you were unconscious, lying on the ground, on the cold black sand of the icy black sea, with the half moon half sun that stood out on the murk, you were only able to see that strange phenomenon in that spot in the background providing enough oneiric vibes to make you feel inside an artwork, it was as if time had stopped in dawn letting the sun and the moon live their love story. The piece of cloth was not being successful in its attempt to wake you up through first aids, trying to get the water out of your lungs, and it even tried slapping your face with no results. 

"Go away, I don't want to see you here, I'll lock you up again if you don't leave me alone!" Stephen yelled at the cloak, he was still upset due to his wife's decisions, but it was not time to give up, the cloak wrapped around him and his neck, chocking him, forcing him to go beyond the border of the garden, dragging him down the stairs, making him find you lying on the sand, he hurried and kneeled by your side. 

"Oh! What are you doing? Wake up!" He attempted as the levitation cloak had done before with the same results, his courage breaking, and his vulnerability finally showing after so long, he was desperate while he placed his head to your chest, trying to perceive your heartbeat. "Do not forsake me! Please".

He held you in his arms and took you home, after many attempts, he found out, he could not do more, and once again, he was about to lose the love of his life, although unlike before, this time he had been the one to cause his misfortune. He would spend the whole day by your side, waiting for a sign, because as long as you kept breathing there was hope. He would look after you, read to you, and to your baby who, to his surprise, seemed to be alive too, and growing. He wished you woke up and then explain everything that had happened in the past, and to tell you that if you were willing to try, so would he, even if deep down he knew it was too late for him and too much of a risk. 

It was late in the evening because the sun was barely lightning the clouds in the horizon and gave them pink and orange colours, the summer breeze entered through the window and petrichor leaked through your lungs. 

"Stephen?" You slowly opened your eyes, you had been dreaming about he talking to you. You were tired although you didn't know why. Stephen was not at sight, you were all alone in the darkness of your bedroom, or that was what you thought at first because just some seconds after, you heard the sound of something fluttering and then the door violently closing.

"Oh thank you! I thought you would never wake up". Stephen hurried and sat by your side, you could read disbelief in his face, incredulity. The cloak stood behind Strange.

"What are you talking about?" You whispered, you didn't have any strength. 

"It's been two weeks since I found you down there!"

You gasped in surprise. 

"My-" you instinctively remember all of it, and took your hand to your belly, you looked at Stephen in suspicion. "Don't you dare-"

"I didn't do anything, and the baby is fine, for now at least". 

"What do you mean?"

"You are not precisely fine, why did you trespass the garden gate?" He caressed your cheek gently, he was glad to talk to you again. 

"It was worthy, that is all that matters". You coughed, indeed you felt terrible. 

"What have you done?!" All of a sudden Stephen realised what you meant, what you had been doing during the times when you were gone, he exclaimed then, regretfully. "You were bleeding and I was the last one to know. You're getting yourself killed! Just look at you, oh it is me to blame, I am so sorry for being like this, I am so sorry you are here locked up with me, you don't deserve it".

"As I said, it was worthy, and I'd do it ever again because now you're free and that damn book is gone". 

He laughed, but was sadness what was in his look, sour.

"Oh honey, the book doesn't matter at all, because the knowledge is here" and he pointed at his head with a finger. "I've been corrupted, and there is no way to fix that". 

"But you told me..."

"Using the dark hold exacts a high toll, dear and I almost lost you to it, that could have got you killed and I'm so sorry for being so selfish, would you ever forgive me?"

"I have nothing to forgive, Stephen, but I would like to know what is happening here, because I am so confused".

Once you had got energy enough by ingesting some food and water he explained how he had acquired immense knowledge from the book you had just destroyed (among others), had killed a whole universe in order to bring his old lover back, how he had ended up alone, how all of a sudden a witch had appeared to team up with him and the two of them had kidnapped and he had done nothing to stop her from murdering a young girl in order to obtain her powers hence they could travel to other universes and they could get their dream lives, how something somehow had just gone wrong and they had ended up in the mistaken universes and he had not been able to find Christine.

"What do you mean you didn't find Christine?"

"I didn't find her, because she was not meant to be mine, never, I was so obsessed, it was sick. I didn't find her, but I found you in the middle of the chaos. You were mourning your Stephen, the one you were married to, because of all the wrong choices he had made, he had found death and had left you all alone, that is everything I know, as I said things got out of hand and all of a sudden I noticed I had brought you with me by accident. At first, I attempted to bring you back, but I noticed Scarlett Witch had had her way and she had betrayed me, so I just had the chance to travel to a single specific universe, which was not yours, so I made you this one, an illusion, because even though you can see a whole landscape through the windows, out there, there is nothing but a sea of despair, my despair. I did not even know your name and you had forgotten everything too, so I decided to call you Christine because at the time I was not able to think of anything else".

"So you kept me here".

"I tried so hard, but eventually I started to fall for you, no matter how hard I tried not to, because I wanted to bring you home, keeping you here would not do any good since you were destined to live an isolated life by my side, by the side of a murderer who doesn't deserve you. You slowly started to get used, to love me. I told you I was your husband because it was partially true and because that way, you would trust me, you would feel safe". 

"You fooled me at first, but at the same time I always felt your hatred towards me". 

"I didn't hate you, I was depressed and hopeless, I did not know what to do. I was having feelings towards you that at first I wanted to deny, but I fell so hard there was a point I could not hide it anymore, those sunny days in the garden by your side were the brightest I had had after everything that had happened and I almost forgot who I was". 

"And then Stephen?"

"Then I found out you were pregnant, something had told me since the first day you were, I could see that gleam in your eyes, I could perceive you had changed. I didn't consider that possibility because I thought I was damned and therefore I was incapable of creating life, I thought it was a gift that would be denied to a broken man like me. When I realised you were indeed expecting our child I forced myself to stop daydreaming about what we had. I did not know what to think, feel or say, so I left as the monster I am, I left you all alone when you were for sure feeling terrible because of what pregnancy encompasses and because the only person you knew and loved had left you, but I needed to think, my mind was killing me, and all of the voices of the damned whispered into my ears that I had to get you killed. I slept fifteen days in the parking lot of the supermarket, because I didn't have another place to go. At first I thought I was betraying Christine, to whom I had devoted my days, she was the reason I had done all of this, then I realised it was not actually that thought the one that made me feel so lost, it was not that I did not want that baby either, I love you and the thought of holding a little being product of that love warmed and still brings that warmth to my heart, but look at me! I'm a monster, how could I bring up a child? I'd make a terrible father, I would be a curse for them, for you, it was not fair! You two don't deserve this. And in addition, all of the other reasons I had talked you about, this seclusion is no life for anyone. The limitations of the world I created for us require big amounts of magic, magic I can provide but that as I said before exacts a big toll, corruption. I should have talked to you from the beginning but I could not, I have made so many mistakes... forgive me even if I don't deserve you, I never wanted this to happen".  He sobbed while took his hands to cover his face, it was indeed a difficult situation and you did not know what to think about it, maybe he was right and living would be hard for all of you.

"I was so scared too. When I found out I was pregnant, I was afraid of what you might do, deep down something told me you would react as you did, and when you left, I thought you were going to abandon us forever, until we starved to death in solitude and I wanted to die, but at the same time I wanted to live and let you see, I could survive without and despite you. When you came back and said you wanted to fix things I had hope, and then you told me you wanted to take my baby away, the only reason I had to stay alive and I..."

"I'm so sorry, I cannot explain with words the regret and shame I feel about everything I did, about the way I hurt you, I just thought it was the best for all of us, I know I'm a monster, I don't deserve to be alive, I deserve isolation, I deserve to go through everything you and everyone I have damaged went through". 

Stephen could not stop crying, and you joined your own weep to his, there were no many options. 

"You are not a monster, Stephen". 

"I don't deserve anyone's compassion or sympathy, especially yours, who I've caused such a big ordeal even if you are the woman I love, just because of my cowardice. I'm not the victim here! I am just... afraid. I know there is a price I must pay for everything I have done, and I'm willing to accept it, to accept anything but I don't want to pay through you two. Maybe I don't deserve a second chance but if I could have it, I would never waste it". 

He kept sobbing, so did you. 

"So what are we going to do?" You finally broke the silence you two had been stuck in for hours. 

"I don't know, nothing makes sense anymore, we'll do as you command because I finally realised, there is no way things can go worse, so whatever you decide, I'll stand for it, and do as much as I can in order to make you happy, even if that means staying far away from you against my desires". 

"I want to keep my baby, Stephen".

"If I'm honest, I want to keep that baby too". He smiled, his eyes were red and swollen due to the time he had spent crying. "I want to keep both of you, you were right and you're the only reason I have to stay alive, I just hope it is not too late". 

"We'll find a way, I'm sure, there is always a way, I mean, to solve all of what you have explained about living here in isolation, just the three of us". 

"So you don't hate me?"

"I can read regret in your face, and it is too late for me to leave. I will forgive you, I just need time, and if you promise me a couple of things".

"Anything". 

"First that you're not committing any crime like those again".

"I do promise you". 

" Second, that you will not keep anything from me again".

"You have my word". 

"Third, you won't make me suffer like you did". 

"I am so sorry about it, I didn't mean it, it won't happen again". 

"And fourth, that you will do anything in your hands to make our child happy". 

"Of course!" You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him softly because you could tell he needed comfort. 

"I love you Stephen Strange, that is my mistake".

"I love you too". 

"Actually I have a fifth request".

"Go on".

"Let's change my name, no Christines from now on".

"I could not agree more".  

"I still have a question, though"

"Go ahead, ask whatever you want, I said no more secrets from now on". 

"Who was the Stephen I saw out there?"

"It was me, the part of myself I was trying to get killed because it had always been too weak, too sentimental, the part of me that would have never dared to do what I did, the part  I offered as the price to pay in order to get to use the dark hold, the almost dead part that was desperate for help and saved you in the end." 

He reached for your hand and held it.

"I'm sorry".

-

The sun shone up in the blue sky, the flowers were radiant and the grass could not be greener. You had suffered in the past but no suffering could be bigger than the happiness that now flowed in you. There was a time when you could only see gray and now all colours invaded your world.

You were sitting among the daisies, the garden was brimming with them, and with all kinds of flowers, your back was against the elm whose leaves had greened too and danced to the early summer breath, and you enjoyed the shade it provided you, you had a book by your side because although you really wanted to finish that one, you could not find the time, the picture in front of you was preventing you from finishing it. So you instead took what was left of your little picnic dessert (a tart with berries and orange juice) to enjoy the show.

"Alright, it's my turn" Stephen claimed, he had been sitting in front of you on your red and white square tablecloth over the soil, and he all of a sudden had stood, he was getting angry and you could not help but laugh at the scene before you, where your friend was rejecting Stephen's request for the fifth time in just a couple of minutes, it was failing at playing oblivious.

"I'm the father!" Stephen raised his hands in the air, complaining. 

"Come on, Cloakie, let Stephen hold the baby or he'll be the one crying next time".  You finally interfered, amused.  

The cloak resigned, did as you had asked, for it had been rocking your baby for some minutes now, since she had woken up in the picnic basket you had put her up while she was sleeping, and started crying. The cloak had attempted to make her stop squalling because all it ever wanted was to make her smile. But in the end, it carefully handed the baby to Stephen who finally held her in his arms, changing completely his expression from rage to tenderness and love. "Hello, my little princess". He softly whispered. 

Six months had happened quickly once you two had reached an agreement, you had seen you stomach grow bigger, feel the first moves of your baby all while Stephen tried harder and harder to become the kind of man, husband and father you two deserved. It had not been easy. You could tell his mind was killing him, there were times when he thought he was all alone and you could not hear him, when you noticed  he was weeping in isolation, how his hands trembled and how the pain in his stomach and lower back made him writhe, he was also desperate because he didn't know what to do, how to stop being that tainted kind of man, to stop blaming himself for what he had done in the past, however you had always assured him you would always be there for him and those episodes were now less and less often, you could tell he was starting to forgive himself, there was still too much to be done, to heal, but you were sure you two were trying your best. 

His new routine was also helping. He would read to the both of you every night, and had composed a lullaby to your baby, when she was still inside you, growing, he would play it on the piano, and you would fall asleep to it, no more dreadful memories and dry tears from now on. He would also talk to the baby all the time. It was all a dream. Light had defeated darkness, you could tell when he held your baby for the first time, he had been the one to receive her after all. 

You had noticed his fingers became less black every time he held your little baby in his arms, and his cheekbones as well as his lips had also reddened, he looked more like a man and less like a beast taken from an oneiric tale. 

"She is as beautiful as you are" he took a seat by your side this time, the baby girl in his arms opened his eyes and observed around, perhaps she took after you but still, among other features, she had got her dad's eyes. She was only a few weeks old and she had already captivated all of you and stole all of your time and affection,  she wrapped her fingers around her dad's and slightly smiled at you, gesture you mimicked. Stephen kissed your child's forehead and next your lips. "I love you, thank you for all of this, thank you for a second chance, for saving me from the darkness, for bringing me back to life".

You kissed his cheek as only answer, leaned against his shoulder so you could behold your beloved ones, since Cloakie had also landed near the both of you. 

There were ways to get you all out of the isolation out of your rotten universe,  Stephen had thought of them a month ago, his new life and his new reasons to live had allowed him to start over, to relax and thus, to think, but there was no rush, for now while the wind softly blew the flowers, the sun shone, the clouds were slowly becoming pink, and the moon waited in plain sight to its moment to shine, the four of you were more than delighted and didn't need anything else. 

Read my other works regarding Doctor Strange Supreme (Sinister) x reader here:

Cold Coffee. 

Los amantes del círculo polar.

#doctor strange supreme #benedict cumberbatch #marvel #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange #one-shot #complete #benedict cumberbatch x reader #fanfic #fic #mine #lizmindpalace #lmp:ff #lmp:doctorstrangesupreme #lmp:doctorstrange #lmp:ffdoctorstrange #self insert #sinister strange #sinister strange x reader #multiverse of madness #taylor swift #cruel summer #lover #cloakie #cloak of levitation #lmp:taylorswift

[textsfromthefifthbasement]

All This Devotion

Rating: G

Words: 1218

Summary: After Christine kisses him, Erik spares Raoul. But now the boy is sick, and neither he nor Christine can go anywhere. Written for Whumptober 2022.

Read Also on AO3

It would be his wedding gift to them. Even though he’d just as soon see the stupid little vicomte buried beside his brother, he couldn’t let him die. Not anymore.

As Christine pulled away from him, Erik could still feel the soft warmth of her lips on his forehead. He pressed his mask to his face and tried to keep himself from crumbling right there as he knelt at Christine’s feet.

Slowly, he stood and walked towards the cellar door. His mind almost seemed to be in a fog. He heard Christine start to follow him, and he turned around. “Stay here,” he commanded.

Christine stopped in her tracks and fiddled with her hands. She looked at him, her eyes wide open. She looked terrified. So, so terrified.

Erik couldn’t find the words to tell her that she didn’t have anything to fear from him any longer.

He delved into the cellar, wading into the water that had filled the cellars minutes before. Quickly, he fished the limp bodies of Nadir Khan and Raoul de Chagny from the water and dragged them to a dry spot.

Behind him, he heard a small gasp. In a flash, Christine was there, cradling the boy’s head in her lap. “Is he alive? Erik, is he still alive?”

Raoul and Nadir both started coughing up water at that moment. Christine said, “We need to get them somewhere warmer!”

Even as Erik started to carry them to his living room, he regretted saving the vicomte. A part of him knew that he’d lose Christine no matter what happened at this point, and he still wanted to blame Raoul and exact his vengeance on him for stealing his bride from him.

Was she ever really completely his?

Unfortunately for him, Nadir was the first to wake up. “You selfish idiot! I saved your life so many times. I gave up my life in Persia so that you could live and followed you here, and what do I get in repayment? You nearly murdered me!”

“You brought the vicomte down here to murder me!”

Nadir let out a frustrated growl and followed Erik around the living room, still wrapped in a blanket. “You were about to blow up half of Paris if Christine didn’t marry you!”

“A quarter, Daroga. I was only going to blow up a quarter of Paris.”

Nadir stared at him for a long moment, blinking. Finally, he said, “That’s not better, Erik! You realize how that’s not any better, right?”

Erik sighed heavily and nearly collapsed onto his armchair. “She kissed me, Daroga. She kissed me and she did not die, or run away. She’s seen my face and…” He glanced at the door to the extra bedroom, where Raoul was now laying in the bed he had made for Christine as she nursed him. “She still wants the boy.”

Nadir opened his mouth as if to say something, but then seemed to think better of it.

Erik continued. “He’s young and will get better. But once Christine leaves with him for the last time, I just want to stay down here and die peacefully and be buried by the lake. Oh, don’t look so shocked. We’ve both known my heart has been going for a few years now, it’s only a matter of time.”

Nadir was quiet for a long time. Erik stood up before he could think of saying anything and walked to the bedroom.

The vicomte still lay on the bed, his forehead covered in a sheen of sweat from his fever. Christine sat in a chair by the bed, fast asleep. A dark voice in Erik’s mind told him that this was his perfect chance, he could smother Raoul with a pillow while Christine slept, and she would be none the wiser.

That would make her unhappy, though. Making her happy after everything he had put her through was the least he could do.

Erik looked down at the bucket of cool water sitting beside the bed and the rag Christine had been using to try to cool Raoul down. He dipped it in the water and started dabbing Raoul’s forehead.

His eyes fluttered open for a brief moment, his blue eyes scanning Erik. Then, he groaned and closed his eyes again.

Erik looked back at Christine, still fast asleep in the chair. For her and her alone, he would help nurse him back to health.

For the next week, neither he nor Christine left Raoul’s side for long, though they barely talked to each other. Erik avoided looking her in the eye.

On the dawn of the seventh day, Raoul’s fever broke. And Christine finally spoke to him.

“Erik,” she said. “Erik, look at me.”

He finally looked up at her and met her eyes. In a moment, she wrapped her arm around his skinny waist. He didn’t know what to do at first, but the longer she hugged him, the more comfortable he felt with wrapping his arms around her in return.

When she pulled away from him, Christine reached up and cupped his masked cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry.”

He leaned his masked forehead against her curls. Then, from the bedroom, Raoul called out, “Christine!”

Christine gasped slightly and pulled away. She went back to the bedroom. “Yes, Raoul? What do you need?”

Erik turned away from the door. He already didn’t want to live in a world where Christine wasn’t in his life. God, what was he doing.

The next day, Christine spent hours talking to Raoul with the door closed. Nadir sat by the fireplace, reading a newspaper while Erik paced the room. “You’re going to wear out the rug,” Nadir said.

Erik said, “They’ve been talking for too long.”

“Erik…”

He walked towards his bedroom. “Please, don’t disturb me.”

He closed the door behind him and sat at his organ. The last few pages of Don Juan Triumphant that he had worked on sat on the stand. He didn’t have to play it to know how it sounded—all his sorrow and loneliness and rage in song form. And recently, the hope. The hope that maybe Christine would love him despite everything and he could live as a normal man—or at least, as normal as he could manage.

He grabbed those pages and threw them to the floor. Everything was ruined, and there was no way to fix it now.

But then, he heard the door open. “Nadir, I told you to not disturb me.”

“Erik,” Christine said.

Erik turned around. Christine walked up to him and knelt beside the organ bench. He grabbed her shoulder. “No, get up. Don’t…”

She took one of his hands in both of hers. “Let us stay,” she said. “Let us stay with you.”

“Stay? Us?”

Christine stood and gently pulled him to his feet. She led him back out to the living room, where Raoul stood by the fireplace. Raoul glanced at him, a flush spreading across his cheeks. He rubbed the back of his neck. Meanwhile, Nadir sat back in his chair, grinning widely. Enjoying himself far too much, Erik thought.

Christine wrapped her arms around his arm. “I’m quite afraid you’re stuck with us now,” she said.

Erik tilted his head. He could get used to this, he concluded.

#whumptober2022 #no.17 #reluctant caretaker #phantom of the opera #fic #drowning #the phantom of the opera #christine daae #raoul de chagny #erik #the persian #angst with a happy ending

[rockislandadultreads]

Nonfiction Thursday: New Social Science Recommendations

The Teachers by Alexandra Robbins

Alexandra Robbins goes behind the scenes to tell the true, sometimes shocking, always inspirational stories of three teachers as they navigate a year in the classroom. She follows Penny, a southern middle school math teacher who grappled with a toxic staff clique at the big school in a small town; Miguel, a special ed teacher in the western United States who fought for his students both as an educator and as an activist; and Rebecca, an East Coast elementary school teacher who struggled to schedule and define a life outside of school.

Interspersed among the teachers' stories--a seeming scandal, a fourth-grade whodunit, and teacher confessions--are hard-hitting essays featuring cutting-edge reporting on the biggest issues facing teachers today, such as school violence; outrageous parent behavior; inadequate support, staffing, and resources coupled with unrealistic mounting demands; the "myth" of teacher burnout; the COVID-19 pandemic; and ways all of us can help the professionals who are central both to the lives of our children and the heart of our communities.

Ghosts of the Orphanage by Christine Kenneally

For much of the twentieth century, a series of terrible events—abuse, both physical and psychological, and even deaths—took places inside orphanages. The survivors have been trying to tell their astonishing stories for a long time, but disbelief, secrecy, and trauma have kept them from breaking through. For ten years, Christine Kenneally has been on a quest to uncover the harrowing truth.

Centering her story on St. Joseph’s, a Catholic orphanage in Vermont, Kenneally has written a stunning account of a series of crimes and abuses. But her work is not confined to one place. Following clues that take her into the darkened corners of several institutions across the globe, she finds a trail of terrifying stories and a courageous group of survivors who are seeking justice. Ghosts of the Orphanage is an incredible true crime story and a reckoning with a past that has stayed buried for too long, with tragic consequences.

Poverty, By America by Matthew Desmond

The United States, the richest country on earth, has more poverty than any other advanced democracy. Why? Why does this land of plenty allow one in every eight of its children to go without basic necessities, permit scores of its citizens to live and die on the streets, and authorize its corporations to pay poverty wages?

In this landmark book, acclaimed sociologist Matthew Desmond draws on history, research, and original reporting to show how affluent Americans knowingly and unknowingly keep poor people poor. Those of us who are financially secure exploit the poor, driving down their wages while forcing them to overpay for housing and access to cash and credit. We prioritize the subsidization of our wealth over the alleviation of poverty, designing a welfare state that gives the most to those who need the least. And we stockpile opportunity in exclusive communities, creating zones of concentrated riches alongside those of concentrated despair. Some lives are made small so that others may grow.

Elegantly written and fiercely argued, this compassionate book gives us new ways of thinking about a morally urgent problem. It also helps us imagine solutions. Desmond builds a startlingly original and ambitious case for ending poverty. He calls on us all to become poverty abolitionists, engaged in a politics of collective belonging to usher in a new age of shared prosperity and, at last, true freedom.

The Undertow by Jeff Sharlet

An unmatched guide to the religious dimensions of American politics, Jeff Sharlet journeys into corners of our national psyche where others fear to tread. The Undertow is both inquiry and meditation, an attempt to understand how, over the last decade, reaction has morphed into delusion, social division into distrust, distrust into paranoia, and hatred into fantasies―sometimes realities―of violence.

Across the country, men “of God” glorify materialism, a gluttony of the soul, while citing Scripture and preparing for civil war―a firestorm they long for as an absolution and exaltation. Lies, greed, and glorification of war boom through microphones at hipster megachurches that once upon a time might have preached peace and understanding. Political rallies are as aflame with need and giddy expectation as religious revivals. At a conference for incels, lonely single men come together to rage against women. On the Far Right, everything is heightened―love into adulation, fear into vengeance, anger into white-hot rage. Here, in the undertow, our forty-fifth president, a vessel of conspiratorial fears and fantasies, continues to rise to sainthood, and the insurrectionist Ashli Babbitt, killed on January 6 at the Capitol, is beatified as a martyr of white womanhood.

Framing this dangerous vision, Sharlet remembers and celebrates the courage of those who sing a different song of community, and of an America long dreamt of and yet to be fully born, dedicated to justice and freedom for all.

#nonfiction #social science #nonfiction books #nonfiction reads #Nonfiction Reading #new library books #Book Recommendations #book recs #Reading Recs #reading recommendations #TBR pile #tbr #tbrpile #to read #Want To Read #Booklr #book tumblr #book blog #library blog

[misalpav]

*Spoiler Warning* Dr. Strange Multiverse of Madness Review

AGAIN A REMINDER TO FILTER YOUR TAGS IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY!!!

MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR SPOILERS IF U CONTINUE READING FROM THIS POINT

OKOKOKOK I HAVE SO MANY FUCKING THOUGHTS I CAN’T EVEN BEGIN TO EXPLAIN BUT LET’S DO THIS

I’m going to start with the positive stuff cuz that’s the majority

First off being the main movie hype woman was such a vibe. I’m usually a loud commentator for Marvel movies but there’s usually somebody else over me. This time it. was. me. I was the main bitch and that was def a proud moment of my life. I somehow managed to beat @janetsnakehole02​ with my reaction game, provided I was always the slightly louder one, and also was probably more emotionally affected by the stuff that happened compared to her for once but hey, there’s a first time for everything

BENEDICT CUMBERBATCHHHH I loved Strange and all his variations. I loved the depth they gave to his character and tbh the way they showed him getting closer and closer to America. However I do feel like they could've spent more time on him.

Lowkey also LOVED how for the majority of the movie he was all about finding The Book of Vishanti as the solution to Wanda and then ACTUALLY USED THE DARKHOLD HIMSELF. HOW DOES SOMEONE COME UP WITH THIS GENIUS

Not just that but the full circle of him first burying the first Dr. Strange variant they show ONLY TO HAVE MAIN DR. STRANGE TAKE OVER HIS DEAD BODY AND USE THE FUCKING DARK SPIRITS TO BEAT WANDA

AMERICA RUNNING TO STRANGE AND HUGGING HIM I FUCKING LOST IT

America and the Latino representation!! It wasn’t huge or anything but seriously it was something AND HER PARENTS WERE LESBIANS GTFO RAIMI UR WINNING

The scene where What-If Strange and main Strange fight with musical notes was so fucking aesthetic and ngl funny

The moment when they were running in the tunnels of like the futuristic realm and then they closed that big door that Wanda didn’t cross AND THEN THEY J FUCKING PAUSED. I had a moment shouting things that essentially sums up to wtf, stfu, are we seriously trusting these people with the multiverse, yeah then we’re fucked, etc. And ofc this was that golden moment I got this other dude in my theater to turn around and give me a thumbs up which gave me a major confidence boost

Can we just talk about Steven’s maturity in the romantic sense? The way people kept asking him if he was happy without Christine and then built up that beautiful beautiful realization that he had so much to be happy about and even after being with the futuristic realm version of Christine, they both gained the confidence to a) admit they loved each other but b) respect the fact that they had responsibilities to their realms that neither could give up.

And with that I also need to plug Christine cuz she was such an interesting character from seeing the way she passively moved on from main Steven to seeing the futuristic realm Christine have moments of her own closure with main Steven after everything

Now Wanda. She had such a perfect story arc that flowed so well from WandaVision. I think it’s always been her thing to obsessively chase after a perfect life between mind controlling an entire village to be with Vision and then willing to kill another child to be able to be with other realm versions of her kids but this time I think she finally got the fact that she really can’t change her reality. I do feel like her ending was kind of left in the air and a part of me hopes she didn't actually die?

She lowkey looked so badass hot too

Mordo damnnn the arc they got between calling Strange his “brother” and that final realization that Mordo was, is, and will always be jealous of Strange was brilliant and I think all of us trusted him to some extent after that initial hug so were mildly shocked when the tea actually was spiked.

I say mildly cuz listen it’s still Mordo, I was still pretty suspicious

I FUCKING SCREAMED WHEN REED RICHARDS CAME IN I COULD NOT BELIEVE MY EYES THERE WAS SO MUCH JOY IN ME IT IS INDESCRIBABLE

Him AND Professor X!!!! I can’t anymore I love life

BENEDICT WONG SIR I LOVED YOU, LOVE YOU, AND BELIEVE I WILL FOREVER LOVE YOU. The way he covers for Steven all the time and even when they aren’t together physically they somehow manage to work together. The final scene between them where Steven was just like “I’m so glad I didn’t have to go through all this alone” MY HEART

The mid-credits scene??? Oh my god??? Pls don’t tell me I was the only one with so many questions

AND THE POST CREDITS SAM RAIMI U FUCKING GENIUS HOW DOES ONE SET UP A POST CREDITS SO PERFECTLY

Ok there’s def a lot more that should be in the liked list, but here’s a very short list of things I didn’t like/wanted but didn’t get cuz tbh I rly can’t think of many things rn

The pacing felt a bit off? Idk but it went by so quickly. It made sense in the moment but afterwards I was like it’s only been 20mins tho??

I hoped we’d get to see some Loki for this movie (without sylvie pls) but at the same time I feel like it was fine without them? idk

yeah that’s all lmao

Just some other final thoughts

I rly can’t compare this movie to NWH just because they both were absolutely amazing in two completely different ways. MoM fucked with my brain made me think a lot about the plot as opposed to NWH which was a lot of doing what the fans wanted neither of them being bad but they just aren’t things that I can fairly compare on any scale imo

So many things came full circle in this and I’m honestly in love with that

I loved the Wandegore temple and was low-key kind of disappointed when it was destroyed. It was honestly so pretty and I had a moment when I noticed Sanskrit inscribing on the walls ngl

One more plug for Sam Raimi cuz why the fuck not. Sir I love you <3

Overall Rating: 8.5/10 

#mom spoilers #multiverse of madness spoilers #doctor strange spoilers #doctor strange multiverse of madness spoilers #doctor strange in the multiverse of madness spoilers #doctor strange multiverse of madness review #multiverse of madness review #movie reviews #mcu spoilers #multiverse of madness #shri's movie reviews #shri's posts: mom

[fiishingboo]

hi im back in my sims hyperfixation, expect a couple more legacies lmao Errrmmm ok where did we leave off,,,, REEDY LEGACY - GENERATION 2 ½ […] > Layne Reedy <–-> Yutaka Miura > Jefferson Goth <–-> Christine Reedy + Thorne Reedy > Adrienne Reedy

SO, Adrienne is learning to stand, and has graduated to eating finger foods! Jefferson decided to dance with his pal Jaxon at prom instead of Chris, and Jaxon is the kid of,,,,,,, (this took me like 6 minutes to find he was BURIED in those unplayed families) Cletus and Faye Harris from Eco Lifestyle, i believe! Luckily Chris wasn't bothered even though Jaxon has been being a total douche canoe to them

and on the bright side, Adrienne also got to experience water for the first time! and then the second time ! and the third time. and a couple more times because Christine REALLY wanted to put her daughter in the pond instead of to bed

#reedy legacy #legacy: reedy #ts4 legacy #sims 4 legacy #reedy gen 2 #legacy:christine reedy

[christinesficrecs]

Helloo Christine! Do you know any temporary character death fics??? like maybe stiles dies and we have to suffer through Derek’s anguish. Maybe even have stiles come back with no memory of his old life. I remember reading one where this scenario happened and Stiles is part of a hunter crew or something. Didn’t really scratched the itchh i was looking for. I just really like Derek missing Stiles and being sad over him. ???? Idk THANK YOU HAVE A GREAT HOLIDAY

Oh man! We knew the hands of the devil is ingrained in my psyche. AND have you read Hunger For Your Touch. JFC. But also!

but-instead also suggested this fic. Thank you!

Cry Havoc by ladyblahblah | 62.3K | Explicit

In Beacon Hills, the two-year war that’s been raging between werewolves and hunters has begun spilling over onto the civilian population. Meanwhile, in Boston, when the tattoo on Stiles Stilinski’s back is damaged on a late-night hunt he begins to have dreams that lead him across the country, drawn by an inexplicable conviction that he’s needed there. When he discovers that Derek Hale began the war after his mate was killed, Stiles finds himself being offered a strange deal: figure out how to bring the alpha's mate back, and peace talks can begin.

If the ley lines you should follow by forectofbabel | 52.1K

And Derek just stood there, staring at Stiles like he was a ghost.

“Dude, I know it’s been a while but you don’t have to look at me like you’re that surprised I’m hung over in the woods. It’s practically a tradition at this point.”

“Stiles?” Derek whispered, the name falling from his lips like a punch to the gut. Stiles watched, confused, as Derek took a deep breath in and took a shaky step forward then back again. “You’re not- you can’t be. Who are you?”

Anyway! There is a post here with a few fics. But these are a little more my speed.

You Can’t Bury My Love by tryslora | 5.4K

When Stiles nearly dies, Derek refuses to leave his side in the hospital, unwilling to risk losing him.

Tell Me, So I Know by TroubleIWant | 7.4K

It took years for Derek to finally confront the way he felt about Stiles, and even after he figured it out he could only explain in Spanish. It took them two years more to get to where they were now. Only with neither of them quite willing to commit, where exactly is that, anyways?

Well, for Stiles it’s a deserted stretch of road behind the Hale house, half trapped in a car wreck after being abducted by hunters. Frankly, he could really use Derek’s help if he’s going to get out of this alive. Mates are supposed to be able to tell when the other is in pain, right? As Derek would probably say, ’querido, no.’

Or, a love story in two parts… and two languages.

#asks #sterek fics #ficrecs #temporary character death #multilingual derek

[allthingsdarkanddirty]

ONE KIND NIGHT by Christine DePetrillo is out now! Check out the gorgeous new small town romance and be sure to grab your copy today! 

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B622Z936

~*~ 

Everyone knew if you shared your birthday wish, it wouldn’t come true. And Jackson wanted this one to come true.

What’s better than digging in the dirt and putting together the pieces of history? For archaeologist Jackson Henley, absolutely nothing. Unfortunately, lost funding forces him to head to his hometown in Vermont. It’ll be great to see all his brothers who still live in town, but Jackson’s stay is definitely temporary. He’s got valuable treasures to unearth in far more interesting spots than a small town deep in the woods.

An injured dog, however, leads Jackson to an unexpected reunion with his high school sweetheart. Isabel Perri is not supposed to be in town. She shouldn’t be running Pine River Cottages where he’s staying either. She definitely shouldn’t look even hotter than she did as the teenager who had broken up with him when he’d entered college ahead of schedule. 

Isabel also swears she’ll be out of Maplehaven before it gets its hooks back into her. She’s got dreams of opening her own resort in a busy tourist area. Getting replanted in her hometown won’t make those dreams come true. Neither will giving in to the magnetic pull she feels every time Jackson is around. Will this second chance alter their escape plans?

Is one kind night enough to uncover a love buried in the past?

One Kind Night is a second-chance, small-town, contemporary romance that features a business-minded heroine and an archaeologist hero who both return to their hometown.

[aion-rsa]

Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness: Best Marvel Comics and MCU Easter Eggs

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This article contains major Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness spoilers.

Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness is finally here! And with it comes a host of answers to long-standing fan speculations, the wish-fulfillment of multiple fan-castings and favorite returns, and a even more questions about where this leaves the MCU of the future. Oh yeah, and there’s also a ton of references to Marvel Comics in here.

Here are our favorite ones that we’ve found…

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AMERICA CHAVEZ

Created by Joe Casey and Nick Dragotta, America Chavez has been kicking around Marvel Comics for over a decade now. Much of what you see from here in this movie is true to the comics, although she’s more inexperienced/unsure of herself than we’ve come for her to be known. The character has served on several teams, including the Ultimates and A-Force, but this version of America seems destined to take an active role in the version of the Young Avengers that the MCU seems to be assembling.

Also, just a quick shout-out to how appropriately bonkers and Steve Ditko-esque the dimensional weirdness America and Ponytail Strange are navigating when we first meet them!

THE BOOK OF THE VISHANTI

The Book of the Vishanti is described as basically the “ultimate good book” in the MCU. In the comics it’s perhaps not QUITE as sacred, but it’s still important. It’s been part of Doctor Strange‘s mythology since his earliest adventures in 1963, and it’s frequently referred to or deployed by Strange in the comics.

NICODEMUS WEST

Michael Stuhlbarg returns as Nicodemus West during Christine Palmer’s wedding. This is a character that, if the Strange franchise wasn’t so seemingly intent on just being a major cog in the MCU wheel, could potentially carry his own movie as an antagonist if they wanted to go a little smaller scale with it. Want an idea of what that could look like? Go read the superb Doctor Strange: The Oath by Brian K. Vaughan and Marcos Martin.

GARGANTOS/SHUMA-GORATH

Yes, that is indeed the same Gargantos (or at least a variant of him) from What If…? here. And yes, it’s also Shuma-Gorath from the comics and (more famously) the Marvel vs. Capcom fighting game. There’s just some legal nonsense apparently tying up the Shuma-Gorath name.

The bit with America Chavez being held hostage by Gargantos as it scales the building feels like a nod to the famous scene in Spider-Man 2 with the similarly-tentacled Doctor Octopus and Aunt May. It even appears to be the same building! We wrote more about all the Sam Raimi references in this Sam Raimi movie right here.

Funny enough, Strange defeats our favorite monster with an “injury to the eye.” When the self-regulating Comics Code Authority was first implemented in the 1950s, one of the first things they explicitly forbade comics from depicting were “injury to the eye” images, in no small part thanks to the horror and crime comics of the era really loving stuff like that. Considering Raimi’s overall cultural literacy, it’s hard to imagine this was accidental.

SPIDER-MAN

Yes, this movie does take place after Spider-Man: No Way Home. Although Strange and America’s shared joke about Spidey shooting webs “out of his butt” feels like it could be another bit of Raimi self-referential goodness, as the Spider-Man of his films had organic as opposed to mechanical web-shooters.

RICK & MORTY

Strange bury his own corpse is akin to the kind of macabre multiverse adventures we’ve seen on Rick & Morty. Appropriate considering that Multiverse of Madness screenwriter Michael Waldron has also written for that animated series.

THE DARKHOLD

The Darkhold as we see it here bears plenty of similarities with its comics counterpart, from its connection to the Scarlet Witch to the fact that it was written by the demonic entity Chthon (whose name you probably recognize from WandaVision).

We also got a version of the Darkhold in Agents of SHIELD season 4 during that show’s Ghost Rider period. However, it looked pretty different, and there’s constant debate about whether or not that series even takes place on the Sacred Timeline these days, so…who knows? For the record, we think it all counts.

THE SCARLET WITCH

“It won’t be Wanda who comes for her, it’ll be the Scarlet Witch.” That’s a pretty chilling line, and the idea of the Scarlet Witch not as a superhero codename but rather as a prophecy tied directly to the Darkhold is very cool. Once again, the idea that Wanda never had a proper superhero codename is something that we saw explored on WandaVision. Speaking of which…

Wanda’s black-tipped fingers are indicative of the corruption of the Darkhold, as we saw with Agatha Harkness in WandaVision‘s final episodes.

WANDAVISION

During Wanda’s dream early in the film, a jingle version of the WandaVision episode 2 theme can be heard playing.

Interestingly enough, both Vision and Wanda have faced their doubles and each conflict ended with words instead of violence.

RINTRAH

The adorable bull-headed creature is named Rintrah, a character who has been hanging around the Marvel Comics universe since 1986. He isn’t even the weirdest, most memorable thing in this movie, which is pretty cool, all things considered. He’s been Strange’s apprentice (and Sanctum roomie) at points, and eventually becomes a sorcerer all his own. Awwww…

THE LIVING TRIBUNAL

At one point as Strange and America traverse the dimensions, we see the Living Tribunal. Now, this is technically the first proper appearance of the Living Tribunal in the MCU. He was referred to in the first Doctor Strange movie (when “the staff of the Living Tribunal” was mentioned), and we saw his statue at a key point in Loki, which helped seed how important this character is to the multiverse..

DR. MANHATTAN

Doctor Strange puking after dimensional travel feels like a subtle Watchmen nod, since it’s a running joke that lots of folks end up losing their lunch after being teleported by everyone’s favorite big, blue naked godlike being.

BRUCE CAMPBELL

The immortal Bruce Campbell showing up as “Pizza Poppa” now marks his fourth Marvel movie cameo, all in Sam Raimi flicks: brilliant wrestling announcer (Spider-Man), snooty usher (Spider-Man 2), hapless maître d’ (Spider-Man 3), and now Pizza Poppa.

Bruce needing to beat the crap out of himself with an “enchanted hand” is a nod to his defining role as Ash Williams in the Evil Dead franchise where that happened…a lot. And more importantly, Sam just loves torturing Bruce.

MCLEOD BOOKS

McLeod Books is across the street from the Doctor Strange museum, which could be a reference to Marvel Comics artist Bob McLeod…although he never did any significant work on Strange from what I can tell, so perhaps this one is just a coincidence.

IS THAT A JEDI?

OK, I’m definitely not sure about this one but…was that someone wearing Jedi robes running the “Memory Lane” station on Earth-838?

EARTH’S MIGHTIEST HERO

The Doctor Strange statue on Earth-838 refers to him as “Earth’s Mightiest Hero” which was long a tagline for the Avengers comics.

MOUNT WUNDAGORE

Believe it or not, this is the first time we’ve been to Mt. Wundagore in the MCU. In the comics, that’s the place where Wanda and Pietro were actually born. Here, well, it’s where Wanda dies. Theoretically.

2003 DETROIT TIGERS

Wanda’s kids on Earth-838 are arguing about baseball at one point, and one of them brings up the “2003 Tigers” as “the best.” As in the Detroit Tigers. Sam Raimi is from Michigan.

But more importantly, the 2003 Detroit Tigers are historically one of the worst teams of all time. They only had one more win than the worst baseball team of all time, an ignominious record set by my beloved New York Mets in their inaugural 1962 season. Anyway, this gives you an idea of just how different Earth-838 is meant to be from our world, I guess.

EARTH-838

Universe 838 has apparently not been identified in the comics and is a new creation just for this movie.

EARTH-616

The MCU is officially given the multiverse designation of 616 here…which is also the designation for the mainline Marvel Comics universe. This might make some continuity lawyers crazy who expected this to have a universe designation separate from Marvel Comics.

THE FANTASTIC FOUR & REED RICHARDS

The Christine Palmer of Earth-838 is a “senior fellow” at the Baxter Foundation. In the comics, the Fantastic Four operate out of the Baxter Building, and at one point have an offshoot known as “the Future Foundation.” The fact that Strange isn’t surprised by this revelation makes me think that perhaps the Baxter Foundation exists in the main MCU already.

Jon Krasinski’s Reed Richards is pretty perfect casting, although, as we’ve seen with variants everywhere from Loki to Spider-Man: No Way Home, this doesn’t necessarily mean he is also the Mr. Fantastic of the main MCU when we finally get the Fantastic Four. We can hope, though!

Interestingly, he already has children, which means he and Sue Storm have been together quite some time in this universe. Their kids, Franklin and Valeria, are known for major multiversal shenanigans of their own.

ULTRON BOTS

We don’t need to tell you that the Illuminati are using Ultron sentries as their personal guards, right? It seems they handled that problem a little bit better than their 616 counterparts.

THE ILLUMINATI

This isn’t quite the comics lineup of the Illuminati which has at various points consisted of Iron Man, Charles Xavier, Black Bolt, Doctor Strange, Reed Richards, Black Panther, Captain America, Beast, and Namor, but it’s an appropriate lineup nonetheless. There is not at the moment a 616 equivalent, although the post-credits scenes of Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings may have featured a grouping that could very much evolve into that down the road.

Interestingly, the 838 Illuminati seem to operate out in the open as opposed to how in the comics this was a group so secret that not even other heroes were meant to know about them.

We wrote much more about the implications of the Illuminati for the MCU right here.

CAPTAIN CARTER

Seeing Hayley Atwell back as Peggy Carter? Amazing. Seeing her kick ass as Captain Carter in live action? Even better. Seeing her killed? Um…well…not as thrilling. But still, fear not: this is the Captain Carter of Earth-838 not necessarily the one we met in What If…?, so we expect there will be plenty more Captain Carter asskickings down the road.

PROFESSOR X

Yes, Patrick Stewart returning for a final curtain call as Professor X is cool, but again, this isn’t the Professor X of the Fox movies, just a new variant for this movie. He does, however, rock his ’90s animated series design, visible telepathy (like in the cartoon), and cool hoverchair. Your ears do not deceive you, either…a snippet of the animated series theme song does indeed play on piano when he’s onscreen. We wrote more about the implications of his appearance here.

BLACK BOLT

Hey remember the Inhumans TV series? Yeah, Marvel would also like you to forget about it. But here’s Anson Mount (who is having himself quite a moment) to redeem Black Bolt, in a comics accurate costume, and even signing just like he did in one of the very first comics to feature the Illuminati!

INCURSIONS, SECRET WARS, AND MORE!

All this stuff about dimensional incursions and needing the Illuminati to sort it all out? That’s straight out of the pages of writer Jonathan Hickman’s extraordinary multi-year run on Fantastic Four and Avengers comics, which is a major influence on this movie. Even the visualization of the incursion, with its stark whiteness, feels like what we saw in the culmination of that story: Secret Wars…which may or may not be coming to a future MCU Phase.

STRANGE’S SISTER

Stephen’s recounting of the fate of his sister, Donna, is straight out of the comics, as well. Interestingly, a scene depicting her death was filmed for the first movie but never made it into the finished movie.

CHARLIZE THERON AS CLEA

The mid-credits scene reveals Charlize Theron as Clea, a character who has been key to Doctor Strange mythology since 1964! She’s basically Strange’s soulmate, a powerful sorcerer in her own right…and also the niece of Dormammu himself. This is the character a lot of Doctor Strange fans have been waiting for, and considering that she’s the current Sorcerer Supreme in the pages of Marvel Comics, this has major implications for the MCU going forward! We unpack some of those here.

What other big Marvel and MCU Easter eggs did you spot in Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness? Let us know in the comments!

The post Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness: Best Marvel Comics and MCU Easter Eggs appeared first on Den of Geek.

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