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beauty-and-passion · 3 years

Note

Heya!

So I remember reading your post about Eurovision a while ago, and since I'm now hooked on a certain collection of songs, I was thinking...

Would you think 'Zitti E Buoni' by Måneskin could be a Remus song, and 'Voilà' by Barbara Pravi a Roman song? Or do you have some ideas on any other Eurovision songs that would fit the Sides?

Just wondering whether you'd like to share some thoughts on this, but no pressure of course! As always, I absolutely love your theories and posts, it always brightens up my day to read :D

This will be a very self indulgent post.

First of all: “no pressure”?! I am HYPED to share my thoughts on this! And this is why it took me so long to reply to this ask: I’ve spent the whole time thinking about which song could fit which Side, going through the last editions, reading the lyrics, searching among my favourites...

So yes, this post will be a bit long. But hey, there is also good music and maybe, by listening to it, you will find something you haven’t heard before! :D

(Of course, in order to make this post understandable, I will translate all lyrics, but the songs aren’t all in English. In any case, every song has a link, so you can hear it on Youtube.)

And yes, I know there are billions of other Eurovision songs, but for the sake of “not making this post endless” (as if it won’t be already), I will stop at Eurovision 2014. If you all have other songs to propose for a Side, please feel free to add them and explain why! :D

And now...

Which Eurovision songs would fit the Sides

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EUROVISION 2021

Måneskin - Zitti e buoni

(Here the Eurovision performance because it’s just this good)

This song is PERFECT for Remus and I was a fool for not realizing it sooner. It's all about showing how different you are, embracing your uniqueness despite what others may think. Everything about this song screams “REMUS” so thank you, my dear, for opening my eyes and making me realize it.

They don't know what I'm talking about You are dirty, bruh, of mud Cig's yellow in between the fingers I'm walking with a cig Pardon me, but I really do believe That I can make this jump And even if the street is uphill I'm training for this now

The first line is already 200% Remus: they (aka the other Sides) don’t know what Remus is talking about. Remus is impossible to understand. Remus is weird, strange, dangerous - according to moral standards.

However, despite the other people’s thoughts, Remus still shows a high self-esteem - just like in his playlist. The others may not have faith in him, there could be obstacles on his way, but he still believes he will achieve his goals.

And good evening, ladies and gentlemen Bring out the actors You better hold on to your balls You better keep quiet and be good Here people are weird, like drug dealers Too many nights I've spent locked outside Now I'm kicking these doorways Staring up like climbers So sorry mum if I'm always out, but

“You better hold on to your balls” is a translation of the original italian line “Vi conviene toccarvi i coglioni”. This sentence is a more vulgar form of the English expression “knocking on wood”, something you preventively do to un-jinx stuff.

However, “knocking on wood” isn’t as strong as the italian expression, so I chose this translation that is more literal, but also more vulgar. It kept the original vibe more, it fits Remus more and it gives a stronger meaning to the whole thing. The singer isn’t just saying “beware of what you’re doing”, but he’s saying “get ready, shit if about to hit the fan”. It’s more powerful - and well, Remus would love this. It’s his time now, so the audience (the other Sides/Thomas) should "keep quiet and be good”.

I also really like the “Here people are weird, like drug dealers”, because it can refer to the dark sides in general. This is Remus’ show, so the Core Sides and Thomas should shut up. They are now in the Dark Sides’ territory, full of weird, sketchy people, morally gray villains. All things he loves, enjoys and that he definitely considers as compliments.

“Too many nights I've spent locked outside / Now I'm kicking these doorways” is another great line, because “being locked outside” is the perfect metaphor for Remus’ situation. He IS locked outside, he has been kept far away from Thomas, stifled by him, unable to fully express himself. And so he releases his frustration by kicking the doors that are shutting him down. That’s just so Remus I. LOVE. IT.

I am out of my mind, but I'm not like the others And you are out of your mind, but you're not like the others We are out of our minds, but we're not like the others We are out of our minds, but we're not like the others

This chorus is PERFECT! First of all: “I am out of my mind” is basically just like this line from DWIT:

[Patton]: Imaginative sure is a- a kind word for him. [Duke]: I agree! How about... DEMENTED?

But also: Remus doesn’t give a damn. He’s not like the others and he’s SO DAMN PROUD of it. Just like he is in canon and in his playlist.

He goes even further, by saying that “you” are also out of your mind. And who this “you” might be, if not the big man himself?

[Duke]: If I am awful... then so is Thomas.

Just like in DWIT, Remus welcomes Thomas’ weirdness with open arms. If he and Thomas are both insane and different, why hiding it and not embracing this difference? They are unique.

I've written pages and pages I've seen salt, then tears These men in cars Don't climb the rapids I've written on a tombstone "In my house there's no God" But if you find time's meaning You'll climb back up from your oblivion And there's no wind stopping The natural power From the right point of view You feel the intoxication of the wind With wax wings on your back I'll go look for that high If you wanna stop me try again Try cutting my head off Because

Woah, this part has a lot. There is:

Remus' creativity as a flow ("I've written pages and pages")

Remus seeing how different he is compared to others ("These men in cars / Don't climb the rapids" while he was ready to “make this jump” despite the obstacles on his way)

Religion because of course - and especially Remus rejecting it ("I've written on a tombstone / "In my house there's no God".")

And, most importantly, there is a nice reference to Icarus' myth. According to myth, Icarus escaped from the Labyrinth of the Minotaur, by flying on wax wings. But he flew too close to the sun, his wings melted and he fell to his death.

This has multiple meanings. First of all, it shows how stubborn Remus is: he could use simpler, more stable ways to reach his goals. But he's Remus, he's creative and he's different, he would rather use wax wings (aka more complex, unordinary means) to reach his goal. Also, it's a proof of his resolution: just like Icarus, his wax wings could melt and he could fail. And yet, he's so set in his decision, he's ready to do anything to succeed.

This last point is particularly evident in the following lines: "If you wanna stop me try again / Try cutting my head off". It's impossible to stop him, just like it was impossible to send him away or stop him from talking in canon.

Everything in this song is just HIM.

Unfortunately people talk They talk, they don't know what they talk about Bring me where I float Cause I lack air here

Once again, the people are the Core Sides: they talk about how he's evil and dangerous and useless. But they don't know what they're talking about. They're (metaphorically) suffocating him with their prejudices, that's why he asks "bring me where I float": he wants to express himself freely, to escape these biases.

Also: water. And with the whole octopus as his animal, it’s just even more fitting.

Moral of the story: this song is perfect for him, Remus should know Italian just to sing it - and he would love the glam rock style of Maneskin as well.

_____________________________

Barbara Pravi - Voilà

I don’t know how you did it, dear, but these two songs are PERFECT. Zitti e buoni is perfectly Remus, Voilà is perfectly Roman. I feel blessed.

Listen to me, me, the half singer Talk about me, to your loved ones, to your friends Tell them about this little girl with black eyes and crazy dreams What I want is to write stories that you will hear about That's all

Roman, is that you? Because this is you. This is ALL you.

Roman is a "half singer": he cannot sing like he want, he cannot express himself in full. He has rules, laws, morals that forces him to quiet down and bent his creativity.

And, just like a tragic hero, Roman asks that his story will not be forgotten, that others will know about him, his unfortunate life, his "crazy dreams" and especially his passion: writing stories "that you will hear about".

This line in particular reminds me of this part from Recipe for Me:

And still, I continue to write because I have more dreams to fulfill Tales I hoped to tell when I was younger Ideas that I haven't made yet, but I will I'll find my way with my will

The concept is the same in Voilà. Roman is a "controlled" Creativity, surrounded by rules and morals that shut him, but he wants to be heard, he wants to tell stories.

And that’s just it. This is what creativity is all about: talking, puring out its ideas, as loud and freely as possible.

Voilà, voilà, voilà, here is who I am Here I am, even if I'm scared as I'm naked, yes Here I am in the noise and in silence

I love how this song is a way for Roman to express himself, to show himself despite everything. He's like this, he's a "half Creativity", he's scared, he's not perfect. But here he is, "in the noise and in silence". Because your creativity is always here with you, no matter where you are or what you are doing: it will never leave you and it will never stop asking to be heard.

Look at me, or at least what's left of it Look at me, before I hate myself What can I say that another hasn't already said? I don't have much, but I place here what I do have Voilà

Aaaah, yes, I like to wake up with the strong smell of Roman's angst in the morning.

Roman seeing himself as something broken? Perfect. We want more of the angsty boi. Even the fans of King Creativity may read this line as Roman seeing himself as “half of a whole”!

And, again I love how despite feeling broken and hating it, he’s still ready to give everything he has. This is the true essence of the concept of creativity.

Also, why not adding a little more angst?

I want to be loved, because I don't know myself how to like the shape of me

This is perfect, because it reconnects to the first episode, when Roman said his goal would be to love himself first. He never reached this goal after almost 30 episodes - and this line might offer an answer on why: because Roman doesn’t know how. He hates himself so much, he doesn’t know how to love himself.

And that’s probably why he needs another person to love: because it’s easier to love someone else, rather than himself.

Voilà, voilà, voilà, here is who I am Here I am, even if it's the end as I'm naked Here I am in the noise and in rage too Finally, look at me and my eyes and my hands All I have is here, it's my face, it's my scream Here I am, here I am, here I am

This last chorus is awesome: the quintessential of Roman’s desperation, of showing himself, of screaming hoping to be heard by anyone. Unlike Remus who is unstoppable and doesn't care about others, Roman cares. He needs a public, he needs to be heard, otherwise he would lose himself.

And I seriously love how these two songs both have the same idea (embrace yourself and your uniqueness), but talk aboout this theme in such different ways - and yet so fitting for the twins... they are just GREAT.

(On a side note: this song is so dramatically French Roman would love it and sing it with the same passion Barbara used and I would love to see that.)

_____________________________

EUROVISION 2019

Bilal Hassani - Roi

Come on... Roi. Roi. Considering that "roi" means "king" in French, who could possibly be the Side I would associate this song with? Maybe the Side who already has a King in his playlist?

Nope, this song is for Remus.

Why Remus? The reason is very simple and you can just notice by reading the first verses:

I am me And I know I will always be I am free Sure I am inventing my life Don't ask me who I am

I am The same since I was very little And in spite of looks, opinions I cry, I go out and I laugh

You put me in a box Want me to be like you I don't follow the codes People are disturbed a lot At the end of the day You canno change me, boo! So, let me fly

This song overflows with confidence, the lines talk about someone who is free to be whoever he wants, who has always been the same since he was a child, who is rejected by others and doesn't give a damn, who doesn't "follow the codes" and refuses to be changed by them.

This isn't Roman, but this is the quintessential of Remus. This song is everything about him, from his confidence to his desire to be free.

And the chorus is even clearer:

I'm not rich but i'm shining bright I can't see my kingdom now When I dream, I am a king And I know o-o-ow Even now o-o-ow You try to take me down You cannot break me nah nah

That's him, that's Remus.

On a side note, if Remus also has his "King song", that would strengthen the connection with Roman, since they both would have a song about "being/feeling like a king".

And this song is Roi, king in French. Since I think Remus would definitely know French, this makes Roi an even more fitting choice, doesn’t it?

Who are we ? When we hide, when we fight for free Only god can judge you and me We did not choose what we are

Not only there is a nice religious reference, but these lines are a also a reference to the LGBT community: they hide, they fight, they didn't choose to be like that (no matter what idiots might think) and only God can judge them, not other, very flawled (and, honestly, very pathetic too) humans.

So, if we consider it, there is also a hidden "fuck society" and a "I am gay and proud to be" and those are both very Remus things.

_____________________________

EUROVISION 2018

Saara Aalto - Monster

I would associate this song with Thomas. And, specifically, to Thomas at the end of the series. Why?

Here's why:

So tonight I'm making friends with all the creatures That are hiding there under my bed

I ain't gonna hold on to these monsters anymore Now I'm gonna let in all the light Tear down the walls At my worst, I found my army strong All the demons are gone You can try and scare me now But I ain't scared no more I ain't scared no more

At the end of the series, Thomas would have befriended all the Sides, especially the "monsters hiding under his bed", the dark bois.

The "final Thomas" will tear down every wall between him and his Sides and will stop hiding/rejecting them. This will make him stronger, because the Sides will be his helpers, parts of him, his friends. He won't be scared anymore by Remus, suspicious towards Janus, afraid of Virgil or terrified by Orange.

"All the demons are gone": the dark sides won't be villains anymore, but friends. And they would help him be stronger.

It's my life I'm ready to lead it I'm gonna roll the dice You better believe it

This part is great as well, because it proves another interesting detail: that Thomas is growing up. He's taking life into his own hands, he's leading it. No more "Oh no, I don't know what to choose between callback and wedding!". He's more confident, he's stronger, he's more mature.

_____________________________

Hovig - Gravity

Honestly, I think this song can be something all Sides might sing to Thomas. It's basically a testament of how much they care about him:

Let me be your heart and your company I'll let you be the one who can lean on me I'll catch you when you fall When you're falling free Let me be, be your gravity

But the imagery just screams "ROMAN" so much, I can't help but think that yes, this is a great Roman song and it's all from Roman to Thomas.

I mean...

I can be your hero I can be your fantasy Oh, I can be the cure Yeah, let me be Your remedy

He IS Thomas' hero, so how can I ignore this? And he's also the embodiment of Thomas' fantasies, he's the wings that make Thomas fly.

Let me be your wings When you're flying high I'm gonna raise you up 'til you touch the sky I'll catch you when you fall When you're falling free Let me be, be your gravity

It's just pure love for Thomas and it begs me to being a Roman song, so... here it is. A Roman song dedicated to Thomas.

_____________________________

Eleni Foureira - Fuego

Listen, not only Roman would rock this song, but also dance like a maniac while singing it just like Eleni and no, you can't change my mind.

Just look at how this woman sings and dnaces without never losing a beat until the end. And please consider that on the Eurovision stage there is no autotune: this was her voice and he delivered a great performance without cracks.

So yes, I want Roman singing this.

But the lines are great for him as well! I mean...

Take a dive Into my eyes Yeah the eyes of lioness Feel the power They ain’t lying.

and

Coz I’m way up and I ain’t comin’ down, keep taking me higher Ah yeah ah yeah ah yeah yeah ah yeah ah yeah Coz I’m burning up and I ain’t coolin’ down, yeah I got the the fire Ah yeah ah yeah ah yeah yeah ah yeah ah yeah

Fuego

Someone fiery and passionate, powerful eyes, pride... yep, this is definitely something Roman would sing. Especially because of the fire. Roman is a fiery guy, so fire is very him.

______________________

Yianna Terzi - Oniro Mou

I actually already talked about this song in an old post and I still haven't changed my mind: this song is all about Janus telling Thomas how much he cares about him.

If you look into the depth of me You revive my dream And if you look into my heart I will take you into my arms How would you like me to say this I would die for you I would give my life for you End and beginning, you are everything

Not only the "take you into my arms" reminds me of Change (" I’ll be able to be honest, capable / Of holding you in my arms without letting you fall"), but the last three lines are so incredibly loving and honest I can't think of anyone else but Janus while reading them. Thomas is his end and beginning, Janus would literally die for Thomas and give his life for him.

So, well, it's just very fitting. And I love how dramatic this song is. It doesn't have the jazzy vibe Janus loves, but the drama is all here.

______________

Francesco Gabbani - Occidentali’s Karma

Do you remember how hard it was to analyze Algorhythm from Logan's playlist? Every line has a meaning and explaining every single one of them took me an eternity.

Well, this song is basically like Algorhythm, but with more philosophy and billions to references. You see the performance on the stage and ahahah, there's a funny dancing gorilla, what a cute song. Then you read the lyrics and BOOM.

I will not analyze this song here, because every line would require at least two paragraphs to explain it. And this post is already long enough as it is, but please, search the meaning of this song: there are references to Shakespeare, Heraclitus, buddhism, Andy Warhol, Desmond Morris and his book "The Naked Ape", Marx, Nietzsche and so on. Basically every line is a reference, a play on words or both at the same time.

What about the main theme? The main theme is the human and especially the contemporary human. In fact, "Occidentali" (Westerners) does not refer to the geographical place, aka Europeans/Americans, but to the western cultural model.

So the title “Occidentali’s Karma” (Westerners Karma) is an insight on contemporary society, on our values and on how, despite how many things changed, we are not so different from our ancestors after all.

This song might seem a perfect choice for Janus. There's a critique of society, there are philosophers and plays on words.

But I’m not too convinced, because even if Janus likes all those things, the number of references is just SO HUGE only a real nerd can find, recognize and appreciate them all.

So yes, this is a Logan song. A song he would probably listen and analyze, enjoying the whole process of knowing more things, finding out all the hidden meanings, the plays on words (we all know you like puns, ya big nerd) and the critical insight. After all, Algorhythm WAS a critique of society, so Logan should appreciate it.

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EUROVISION 2014

Twin Twin - Moustache

Not only the band is called Twin Twin but, as if this wasn't screaming "Creativitwins" enough, the title of the song is "Moustache".

Come on, you know who is the Side perfect for this song.

Psyche! It's both Roman and Remus.

Something is missing, but what? I want this, I want that When I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming in dollars, every day I'm wearing a different suit.

This is very Roman: Roman wants everything (let's not forget Primadonna from his playlist), Roman’s dreams are big. And Roman is Creativity, so he "wears a different suit" every day - aka he directs his creative flow in different stories/songs.

I want this, I want that there's never enough for me it's like this, it's like that there's always something I don't have

This part strongly reminds me of Primadonna. Roman wants everything, every day. He's never satisfied.

And then, Remus busts in and...

I wanted a moustache, a moustache

So my headcanon is that this starts as a Roman's song, all about wanting everything because "there's always something I don't have", until Remus pops out during the chorus and says all he wants is his gorgeous moustache.

*chef’s kiss* Perfection.

But I know what you want, dear audience. You want some angst, don't you?

Fine, so what if the "I want a moustache" line is Roman's subtle way to say that he wants the same freedom his brother has? After all, Roman has "everything one could ever dream of", "I have friends too / even some who like me". All he needs is more creative freedom and the moustache is a subtle way to say that.

_______________

Aarzemnieki - Cake to Bake

This is the ultimate song for all Patton's fans, because it combines Patton's love for baking to Patton being an absolute disaster at it.

Also, it's an incredibly cute song.

I melted the ice of the polar caps Found the raiders of the lost ark Solved a case for the genius from Baker Street Helped to clean the Central Park I created the plan for the Chinese wall Went to desert, made it rain Swam through a shark tank bloodily Found Atlantis, by the way But today

The first verse is already awesome: Patton did a lot of great stuff, even impossible stuff ("solved a case for the genius from Baker Street" is a very nice reference to the Losing My Motivation episode).

But today, he has to face the most difficult task of them all:

I’ve got a cake to bake, and got no clue at all I’ve got a cake to bake, and haven’t done that before Don’t be proud, mate, please, don’t bother Go, come on and ask your mother How to bake, how to bake, bake that cake

Not only this makes me smile every time, but I can perfectly imagine Patton in a kitchen, with all the ingredients in front of him, everything ready and set... and he’s just absolutely lost. Should he use a spoon to stir the flour? And how can he open the vanilla beans? He doesn’t even know how to turn the stove on.

And so, he decides it’s time to ask someone else to help him. Bonus points if the mother is Janus. Also because he is a mom AND a witch, so

Also, this line:

Mix some dough, add some love, let it bake, wait for it

It's SO Patton, because the main ingredient of his recipes IS love! And cumin. And sometimes spit, depending on what he's making: pasta for Roman or some toasts for his angsty teen son.

_____________________________

Carl Espen - Silent Storm

At first, I thought this was a Logan song: someone who feels empty and alone, who has a storm inside but it's a silent storm, because Logan would never express his feelings in any way.

But there are these lines:

And there’s a silent storm inside me Looking for a home I hope that someone’s gonna find me And say that I belong I’ll wait forever and a lifetime To find I’m not alone There’s a silent storm inside me And someday I’ll be calm Someday I’ll be calm

And maybe it's just me, but this reminds me so much of Virgil. He has a storm inside, his own symbol is a storm. He's searching for a home, after leaving the dark sides. And he hopes someone will say he belongs - Thomas will say he belongs, that Virgil is part of him and of the famILY.

And he's willing to wait all the time, just to get that tiny bit of recognition and acceptance. And, who knows, maybe when he'll get it, the storm inside him will calm down and he will finally be at peace.

____________________

Tinkara Kovač - Round and Round

I don't know if I'm insane (or just extremely self indulgent), but this song is basically Janus during the wedding/callback saga.

Uncertain between worlds Circle after circle, we're trapped in time When you're already familiar with every storm You're playful, and yet you're alone

The first verse sets the time and situation. Thomas is living an uncertain life (just like every actor), trapped in the same cycle, with nothing new coming: same job, same opportunities, no big chances, nothing stable. He's "familiar with every storm", aka Virgil has been accepted. Thomas is happy, but he's alone. No one is actually on his side, not even the Sides themselves. He's not taking care of himself enough, he's too ready to drop everything for his friends, he's spreading himself too thin.

And now I'm gonna show you how to breathe I'm gonna show you how to live I'm gonna hold your heart in hand I'm gonna make you understand

This can be a declaration from Janus: he's tired of working in the shadows, he wants to step up and help Thomas in person. And these lines make me think of him, because of how "firm" (and kinda villain-y) they sound.

He wants to show Thomas how to live, aka what are the best decisions to make). He's going to "hold your heart in hand", aka to have Thomas wrapped around his fingers, to take control and steer him with a strong, confident grip, away from the decisions he considers bad, into making him a lot stronger than before.

And, finally, he wants to make him understand. So if the lines before sounded more like a villain’s plan, this last line adds something more. Janus wants to explain to Thomas why he's doing this, why his decisions are better, why Thomas should trust him.

If we think about it, this is everything Janus tried to do since CLBG: he wrapped Thomas (and the other Sides) around his fingers and made them play the courtroom scenario he built, he tried to steer Thomas away from the selfless decision of going to the wedding. And he tried to make him understand why, with the pinata metaphor.

You don't know you don't know Is it love is it hate What are we changing (What are we doing) You don't know you don't but Can you feel it inside Feel the roses Feel the pride (Can you believe it)

Thomas doesn't know a lot of things. Does he really know what love is? Or hate? Or what he's actually doing, by listening to his Morality? What is Janus doing?

[Deceit]: What am I doing here right now, Thomas? Am I the snake come to trick you into sinning, or have you had your mind made up since the moment you received the news about the callback? (SvS)

Thomas doesn't know a lot of things. But deep down, he knows what he wants to do. He should "feel the roses / feel the pride", both things associated with Roman. He is the one Thomas should listen to. And Janus is hinting it.

Is a moment just a circle Just a song you play on repeat? If we can't change how we're living Isn't life just a lie that we feed

Janus is expressing his frustration here: is Thomas' life doomed to always be the same, a cycle, a "song you play on repeat"? Can't he really change his life because of his selflessness? Will he really miss all the opportunities life offers him, in order to always be a good person?

What's the point of living, then? This wouldn't be life, but "a lie that we feed": instead of living his own life, Thomas would submit it to what others want/need, in order to always be present for them.

This is basically a huge warning from Janus: don't fall into this cycle, break free, I can make you free, listen to me and I will make you understand what is wrong about it.

19 notes · View notes

foryourimaginationonly · 4 years

Text

Mission Impossible

“Good Morning, Y/N.”

A face appeared over your morning coffee as you grunted a not so affectionate morning greeting back at your coworker.

“Long night?” He asked.

“Not long enough.” You sighed. “How does she expect me to get her an entire book written in 24 hours?”

Your coworker shrugged. “I don’t know, but she’s coming around the corner now so I'll catch you later.”

He hurried off to his desk on the other side of the room. Thankfully, your desk was far away from your managers which meant she wouldn’t speak to you first thing in the morning. Taking out your laptop, you stared at the three pages you had written last night.

A book on pirates? Was she mad? How were you supposed to get her a story line before noon with no idea what it should be. Fearing that it might copy a certain famous movie franchise, you spent hours the night before scouring the internet for any sign of hope. Finally realizing that you had to start somewhere, you wrote whatever came to mind. Three pages later, you hit a blank wall and decided to call it a night.

Now you were regretting every bit of it. After re-reading what you had written, you realized how awful it all sounded and hit the delete button as fast as your fingers could go.

“Y/N, hope that synopsis is coming along nicely.” Your manager called from the other side of the room.

You smiled at her as she walked into her office, feeling a slight bit of hatred for her.

The morning sun was shining through the window next to your desk and you thanked the high heavens for it. It had rained all last week and it really put a damper on your mood.

Hoping to get some inspiration from the sun, you turned your chair towards the window with your laptop in your lap and began to write what would hopefully be a top seller one day.

After about two hours of working, you decided to take a break, setting the computer back on your desk. A quick look outside made you freeze. Three black SUV’s had pulled up outside and there were men dressed in suits getting out.

“Shit shit shit.” You said as you quickly grabbed your laptop and bag.

You raced to the elevators only to stop and think of a different pathway. The stairs? You were on the 10th floor. Could you make it down 10 flights of stairs in heels?

Only you didn’t have long to debate as you watched the elevator go down to the first floor.

Stairs it was. You kicked off your shoes and quickly made your way to the stairwell, hoping to god they didn’t decide to also take the stairs as well.

About halfway down you heard what sounded like a stampede coming up the stairs, which ultimately made you turn right back around and go up.

“I am not going down without a fight.” you whispered under your breath.

Running back up to the 10th floor, you decided to try to blend in with the many people that came in and out of the office, hoping that the men in suits had already came up by now. You peeked out of the stairwell and saw them walking around the office. The elevators were clear of them and so you threw back on your heels and quickly joined a few people standing in line waiting.

Avoiding eye contact was hard, but running straight into one of the men in suits as he got off the elevator was even harder.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t our little chameleon.” He said, grabbing your arm.

You rolled your eyes and struggled to pull your arm from him. “What do you want Haz?”

He smiled. “It’s not what I want. It’s what the boss wants.”

Now, you could feel all eyes on you. Your manager walked out of her office, complaining. You groaned as she spotted you and made a beeline for you and Haz.

“Y/N, what in the hell is going on here?” She asked rather loudly.

“Y/N here has been on the run since her last assignment and it took us years to track her to here. We are taking her back as she has unfinished business. Excuse us.” He said, pulling you closer to the elevators and pressing the button.

“Last I checked, I had finished my assignment and was free to do as I pleased.” You said, shrugging.

Haz looked at you. “Yes, you were free to do what you pleased. In the area in which we gave you. Not go off the charts and disappear. You are still under contract.”

You huffed. “I just want to live a normal civilian life. Is that too much to ask for?”

He pulled you onto the elevator with the rest of his men following suit.

“You want to live like this? And not work for the most prestigious agency in the world? Interesting.” He smiled.

It took three car changes, a three hour flight, and another four car changes to finally reach headquarters only 15 hours later. By the time your feet hit the ground, you felt the fatigue of traveling hit you hard.

“All those years of training and you can’t stand up straight. Pathetic.” Haz said.

You turned and punched him hard in the stomach, making him double over.

“I might not be running errands for the big man, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been training like I have.” You said, walking away from him.

It only took you a second to realize that you no longer had the access code for the base so you had to wait for Haz to finish his bitching and punch in the code.

After walking down the familiar corridors, you finally came face to face with the man you made you who you are.

“Hello, Father.”

“My sweet Y/N. Five years and no phone call, no text. Not even a birthday card. I have to send Haz to come find you and bring you back to me. Why?” Your father was a tall man, with piercing eyes and hair that had started to gray. His skin was (Your skin tone) with scars from his many years of fighting.

“I don’t need your dog, nor do I need you. I never wanted this. I just wanted to live a normal life.” You said, frustrated. “I had all of that too. A nice apartment, a job I loved, a place I called home.”

He looked at you, un-moving. “But my sweet pea, this is your home. How would your mother feel about those words?”

You scoffed. “I wouldn’t know how she felt since she died when I was just a child. You forced me to be something I didn’t want to be. I finished my assignment all those years ago with the promise of a normal life.”

“Yes, a normal life. One of which was to be lived out here in the compound working with me to be my next in line.” He said, giving a slight sigh.

“You have a dog you can train for that. I do not want it. I’m sure he is more than eager to do so.” You looked at Haz who was not so happy about being called a dog.

A heavy sigh emanated from your father, his head hung low and he shook it as if he didn’t know what to say.

“I have another mission that only you can complete.” He said.

Your shook your head defiantly. “No, I refuse to do any more missions. Haz has every skill that I learned. He can do it.”

Your father shook his head again. “Unfortunately, this mission is technically an ongoing from your last.”

This made you freeze. “My last mission?”

Memories came flooding back. There was so much bloodshed. So much betrayal. You didn’t know who to trust anymore or what was right or wrong.

“It can’t be.” You murmured. “I put a stop to it all.”

“Yes, so we thought.” Your father stood walking over to you. You had taken the chair in front of his desk, staring at the floor.

“We have satellite images of him entering the country a week ago.” Haz said. An image popped up on the side screen. “it's undeniably him.”

You looked up, gasping. It couldn’t be true. You had watched him perish in the fire. You saw the explosion with your own eyes. He couldn’t have escaped it.

Yet there he was. His dark brown shaggy hair. His big brown eyes. His foolish smile. A tear fell down your cheek.

“Tom.”

Part Two

A/N: OH MAN DOES IT FEEL GOOD TO BE BACK! I am so happy to be writing again. Even if it’s for a bit. I had this story line in my head for the longest but I didn’t know how to write it. I chose Tom because I didn’t like where to Mob!Tom was going so I wrote him in as a bad guy, Or is he? Hope you guys really like this one. I have a long story line for this one. So hold onto your horses. :D

I AM ACCEPTING TAGS FOR THIS~~~~

#TOM #tom holland #imagine tom #tom x reader #imagine tom holland #Author #mission #impossible #mission imposible #imagine #imagine if #writing #writing a book #writer #writing prompt #writing challenge

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incandescent-eden · 4 years

Text

STORY MASTERLIST

A (not so) comprehensive list of all the things I write about, all of which are subject to change at any given time because I do a lot of refactoring!

LOOOOONG POST INCOMING I write... a LOT, and I have... MANY projects :) Feel free to ask me about any of them! :)

With love <3 Continue reading below the cutoff if you want to know the basic rundown of my worlds and works!

ANGELVERSE:

This universe encompasses all of the angels and demons I like to focus on. Works in the angelverse will likely be about Faraday (formerly known as Efrem), a demon lieutenant, Ezekiel, a young angel, the archangel Uriel, or angel Raguel / angel Sophia (their stories are intertwined).

The main concept I have on Angelverse surrounds Faraday, who has grown into himself as a demon and made something of himself. He finds it impossible to shake who he was before. The question comes up during an important meeting between Heaven and Hell of whether he is truly Faraday or Efrem, his own self that he has shakily become, or the self he inherited from being his father’s son. There’s also brotherly angst between Faraday and Ezekiel, who refuses to let go of the past. (If you look at my old works tagged ‘ezekiel,’ you’ll see Ezekiel used to be a part of Faraday/his ‘ideal’ self, which is why new Ezekiel, separate from Faraday, reads so differently.)

The Raguel and Sophia stories are also closely linked to characters Andromeda and possibly Zachariah. Andromeda’s father runs a cult and has captured an angel in his attic. When Andromeda finds the angel (Sophia), her otherwise “normal” life is thrown into disarray as she starts unraveling threads about her father’s actions as a cult leader. If Zachariah is to be a part of it, he would be living with Andromeda’s family, having run away from his past.

Prominent characters in Angelverse include: Faraday, Uriel, Ezekiel, Stena, Michael, Ramiel, Raguel, Sophia, Zachariah, Ambriel, Ruhiel, Gabriel, Raphael, Luci, Bee, Sasha, Saoirse, and Heather. With the exception of Sophia, all names ending with “el” are angels, while the rest are demons. Also, I say prominent, but like half of these characters are from a bygone era (2018 when I first created them).

TW/CW for heavy religious (Christian) imagery, emotional abuse, violence, transphobia mentions and cult talk. Additional content warning because I tend to write angels as LGBT, but I recognize that some people are not comfortable with this affiliation with Christianity.

LUXTRURA (NOTE: LUXTRURA IS ON PERMANENT HIATUS):

Luxtrura is the name of a fictional country in ye olde European fantasy style, and I haven’t thought of a title for the WIP yet, so I mainly tag it ‘luxtrura’ or ‘luxtruran trio.’ This WIP is a fantasy / dystopian / political intrigue about an uprising in the kingdom of Luxtrura run by an inexperienced king and corrupt nobles all vying for the crown.

Luxtrura (at the current moment) follows the life of His Majesty Devron Fharren, the Eighth Fharren King, who inherited the crown by kingdom decrees at the age of 21. Unlike most kings, Devron has only had seven years of proper royal tutelage on statecraft, having only been named heir to the throne when he was 14. He soon finds he has inherited a kingdom that has been deeply wounded, that his people hate him, and that he has few allies among his own country’s nobles, his friends, and neighboring royalty. Revolution is brewing, and he has a choice to make: to claim his birthright or to help his people.

Prominent characters include: Devron Fharren, Eden Barison, Mili Starr, Plumeria Rwalke, Lilia Tao, Rassaya Tao, Andrea (a mysterious stranger who gives only her first name), Jakob Fiyre, Cordelia Fiyre, Liseline Fiyre, Sonja, and Orange and Rouse (the dragons).

TW/CW for violence, sexual assault mentions, transphobia mentions, political talk, blatant classism, and death.

GLOWING EYES:

A “what-if” scenario where Victor Frankenstein and Dorian Gray had met and become friends and also Frankenstein wasn’t a man and was named Viola and was not a pleb weakling like Victor. Also Dorian Gray is fat because I said so.

This story reimagines the Frankenstein and Dorian Gray cast as students in their final year of the prestigious University of Ingolstadt, with Frankenstein having returned from a year off during which she was suspended for [redacted] reasons. The vibe we’re going for is dark academia, but I don’t think they ever actually do any learning?

Prominent characters include: Viola Frankenstein, Dorian Gray, Elizabeth Lavenza, Henry Clerval, Basil Hallward, Deukalion, and special shoutout to Justine Moritz and Sibyl Vane because I didn’t want to put them in, but they definitely deserved better in the source material.

TW/CW for death, violence, toxic/obsessive relationships, grave-robbing, body part mentions (eyes, limbs, etc), and mentions of the Devil. Basically, if it was a concerning part of either the Frankenstein or Dorian Gray stories, it will still be concerning.

Fun fact, there is a Glowing Eyes playlist that I am NOT too ashamed to share with the public! :D

HELEN OF LEGEND:

A retelling of the Helen of Sparta story that explores Helen’s thoughts and motivations. Who was the woman behind the face that launched a thousand ships? And did she ever even want those ships to be launched? (Spoiler alert: the answer is no.)

Helen of Legend gets pretty heavy handed because I get really mad about people lauding the Greeks as the end all be all of culture, and I’m still really mad about how people dress Millie Bobby Brown up like she’s 25-40, so make of that what you will.

On the bright side, Helen of Legend is a sapphic retelling!

Prominent characters include: Helen, Leda, Menelaus, Clytemnestra, Penelope, Theseus, Aphrodite, Paris, Cassandra, Hector, and Hecuba.

TW/CW for misogyny, implied past sexual assault, sexual assault mentions, mentions of spousal and emotional abuse, people being generally creepy about bodies, people being creepy toward children (Theseus), cities burning, subtle classism, and death.

OF DANCERS AND DREAMERS:

A musical about Anne-Marie, a non-binary Vietnamese lesbian born into a wealthy family, and Jules, a Tunisian baker’s daughter who is working her way into the Paris ballet. Anne-Marie wants to be a designer, but their mother, Mme Trinh, has other plans. The year is 1884, and it was hard for the Trinh family, as immigrants, to establish their foothold in society, and Mme Trinh will not have her child throw away the family’s hard work. One day, while at the ballet, Anne-Marie becomes smitten with Jules, a ballerina with the most dazzling smile. They find solace in sharing their passions with one another and become friends, each eventually realizing they have fallen for the other in a time that is unfriendly to both of them.

Prominent characters include: Anne-Marie, Jules, Victor, Mme Trinh, and Amandine.

TW/CW for subtle homophobia, classism, mental illness, and parental guilt tripping/emotional toxicity.

THE LYRE EFFECT:

A play about life after death, and what it means to live and love. This play follows Patroclus upon his death, desperate to return to Achilles. He meets the reluctant Eurydice, embittered by decades alone in limbo halfway between life and death. Together, they almost throw someone off a boat (is it really murder if they’re already dead?) and have a chance to tell their stories, stepping out from the shadows of their more famous lovers.

I took a lot of liberties with this, so Orpheus is a woman (wlw OrphEurydice), and I would like for both Achilles and Patroclus to be played by trans men, and for all of the characters to be played by non-white actors.

Prominent characters include: Patroclus, Eurydice, Achilles, Orpheus, Apollo, Hades, Charon

TW/CW for talk about death

SPEED ROUND (OR: THINGS I WRITE ABOUT THAT AREN’T AS AMBITIOUS JUST YET/AT THE CURRENT MOMENT):

Here Lies Forever - a story focusing around two young people, Medb Flaherty and Virgil Sutherland, growing up at an orphanage amid war, abandonment, and sickness. Medb is a blind writer who dreams of traveling the world with Virgil, her best friend since their teen years, but when the war strikes too close to home, Virgil leaves Medb and their peaceful student life behind to join the army. Unwilling to let go, and recognizing the pain Virgil is in, Medb takes it upon herself to save Virgil, the both of them haunted by the ghosts of their pasts.

On the Corner of Maple Street - short stories about the lives of Sarah and Evangeline together, two lesbian women who met when Sarah was 28 and Evangeline was 31. Sarah was a toy maker and Evangeline was an actress. They have a son named Oliver, who’s now in his forties, and they’re grandmas to all the neighborhood children. They live on the corner of Maple Street :)

Partager Un Reve - short stories, often romantic, about two circus performers, Alyona Ledbedeva (who does aerial silks) and Li Mey Ri (an acrobat). They’re cute together, there’s not really much to say here.

Claire - there’s a really old novelette floating around on my account and you can find it if you search Claire, but like it’s OLD. An 18th century French lady who contracted TB and died but was brought back by a necromancer named Cecil (Cecil is the character of my friend @sinnabon-cosplay !) and is now immortal. Fun times with Claire and Anthony usually involve lamenting the fact that they’re stuck as teenagers.

Miscellaneous - miscellaneous demon and monster characters like Alexander, Felicity (both vampires), Sparrow (succubus/Heather’s youngest sister), Zephyr (fae, husband of Spar), Lycan (she’s... a werewolf), and so on. Not really connected to a plot

Performing Possumhood - uh this was a play I wrote with my friend @holdingonmyheartlikeahandgrenade for a 24 hour play festival, it’s about a guy named Thomas who becomes herald for a kingdom and then on his first day of work, the king dies, and his son becomes king, except the new king??? is a possum???? and like no one does anything about it, so Thomas just feels like he’s going insane, poor guy (also everyone else is named Thomas except the king, whose name is His Majesty King Parthur Pencildragon of Alpacalot)

Nordic questing team - I’ve literally written nothing for these fools, but I’m tempted to make it into a dnd campaign! The characters I have are Val (short for Valnotte) (she’s a nokke), Hanne (human poison seller who wears an eyepatch just because), Fur (short for Bjorgolfur, he’s a werewolf who left his pack because he was too good at being alpha wolf but he didn’t want to be alpha, he wanted to press flowers and have a cute little cottage by a cliffside with a pretty garden damn it), and Bo (full name: Boscobel Blue, he’s a cow boy. Literally. He has cow ears and a big septum piercing and a tail. Also he’s a shepherd. His sheep are carnivorous :))) Make of that what you will)

Alice x Secret Garden - another play but where Alice Liddell and Mary Lennox are 18 years old and find themselves in Wonderland, after Mary is jaded from the end of WW1 and is frustrated at her friend Dickon’s marriage proposal, and Alice runs away, trying to retain her childhood as best she can

Retellings - I do myth and fairy tale and folk retellings! :) You can search ‘Tithonia’ for my sleeping beauty retelling, and I wrote Orpheus and Eurydice a while back. Still working my way through Icarus :’) Also ‘Mermaids Can’t See’ is a retelling of the classic mermaid story but written as a ??? field guide? journal entry? notes about mermaids?

If there’s a work you want specifically about a character, I always tag characters, and I also will tag character introductions and pictures/references of them as “beanpuff char[]”!

#writeblr #reevie rambles #masterlist #wip masterlist #beanpuff char[]

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daddyzarc · 5 years

Note

what other anime do you watch besides ygo?

Hoo boy im gonna put this under A read under (hopefully it works) because its a doozy

Let’s see..

-A Silent Voice

-Akira

-Another

-Ancient Magnus’ Bride

-Attack on Titan

-Assassination Classroom

-Baccano!

-Blood Lad

-Black Butler

-Blue Exorcist

-Blue Spring Ride

-…. Boku no Pico

-Brothers Conflict

-Cute High Earth Defense Club LOVE!

-D. Gray-man

-Danganrompa

-Dramatical Murder

-Dragon Maid

-Durarara

-Death Note

-Devil is a Part-Timer

-Free!

-From the New World

-Fruit Basket

-Future Diary

-Gangsta

-Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun

-Gintama (All of it)

-Gurren Lagann

-Gugure! Kokkuri-san

-Haikyuu

-Hal

-Heroic Legend of Arslan

-Howl’s Moving Castle

-Is this a Zombie?

- Kamisama Kiss

-Kanokon

-Karneval

-Kill La Kill

-Kuroko no Basket

-Love Live

-Junjou Romantica

-Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic

-Madoka Magica (Every single version out there)

-Mekakucity Actors

-Merman in my Tub

-Mo Dao Zu Shi

-My Hero Academia

-My Little Monster

-No Matter How I Look At It, It’s You Guys’ Fault I’m Unpopular

-No Game No Life

-No. 6

-Norogami

-One Punch Man

-Ouran Highschool Host Club

-Osomatsu-san

-Parasyte

-Persona 5 the animation

-Panty and Stocking with Garterbelt

-Pilowboys

-Pokemon (All movies and most of the series, gotta watch sun and moon when it finishes)

-Ponyo

-Poco’s Udon World

-Princess Tutu

-Princess Jellyfish

-Psycho-Pass

-Prison School

-Ranma ½

-Red Data Girl

-Say I Love You

-Sekirei

-Sex Pistols

-Secret Princess Himegoto

-Seven Deadly Sins

-Snow White with the Red Hair

-Soul Eater

-Spirited Away

-Spice and Wolf

-Steins Gate

-Super Lover

-Sword Art Online

-Seraph of the End

-Soul Eater

-The Garden of Words

-Tales of Zestiria

-The Flower We Saw That Day

-Tokyo Ghoul

-Totoro

-Uchuu Patrol Luluco

-Violent Evergarden

-Un-Go

-Yamada-kun and the Seven Witches

-Your Name

-Yona of the Dawn

-Yuri on Ice

-Yuki Yuna is a Hero

-Wandering Son

-Wolf Children

-Wolf Girl and Black Prince

-World’s Greatest First Love

Also Generator Rex, Voltron, Miraculous Ladybug, Avatar the Last Air Bender, and Ben 10 (which i have not finish yet), and a bunch of others that I cant remember really well

#ask #long post #dyzarc ramblings #i put my teeth in everything

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drzito · 5 years

Text

Las 241 películas que he visto en 2018 (parte 1)

1. Aelita (Yakov Protazanov, 1924).

2. La huelga (Sergei Eisenstein, 1925)

3. A nous la liberte (Rene Clair, 1931)

4. American madness (Frank Capra, 1932)

5. The crash (William Dieterle, 1932)

6. Dinner at eight (George Cukor, 1933)

7. Tiempos modernos (Charlie Chaplin, 1936)

8. El camino radiante (Grigori Alexandrov, 1940)

9. How green was my valley (John Ford, 1941)

10. The Devil and Miss Jones (Sam Wood, 1941)

11. The grapes of wrath (John Ford, 1941)

12.The glass key (Stuart Heisler, 1942)

13. The blue dahlia (George Marshall, 1946)

14. The blue lamp (Basil Dearden, 1949)

15. The fountainhead (King Vidor, 1949)

16. The Lavender Hill mob (Charles Crichton, 1951)

17. Surcos (Jose Antonio Nieves Conde, 1951)

18. The prisoner of Zenda (Richard Thorpe, 1952)

19. Historias de Tokyo (Yasujirō Ozu, 1953)

20. House of wax (Andre de Toth, 1953)

21. Executive suite (Robert Wise, 1954)

22. Sabrina (Billy Wilder, 1954)

23. The salt of the earth (Herbert Biberman, 1954)

24. Woman’s world (Jean Negulesco, 1954)

25. Fruta loca (Kô Nakahira, 1956)

26. Patterns (Fielder Cook, 1956)

27. The man in the gray flannel suit (Nunnally Johnson, 1956)

28. The power and the prize (Henry Koster, 1956)

29. The solid gold cadillac (Richard Quine, 1956)

30. El inquilino (Jose Antonio Nieves-Conde, 1957)

31. The pajama game (George Abbott y Stanley Donen 1957).

32. Will success spoil Rock Hunter? (Frank Tashlln, 1957)

33. La vida por delante (Fernando Fernan-Gomez, 1958)

34. Day of the outlaw (Andre de Toth, 1959)

35. La vida alrededor (Fernando Fernan-Gomez, 1959)

36. Sapphire (Basil Dearden, 1959)

37. Los canallas duermen en paz (Akira Kurosawa, 1960)

38. Cash McCall (Joseph Pevney, 1960)

39. Rocco e i suoi fratelli (Luchino Visconti, 1960).

40. Burn witch, burn (Sidney Hayers, 1962)

41. Hatari! (Howard Hawks, 1962)

42. The counterfeit traitor (George Seaton, 1962)

43. The L-shaped room (Bryan Forbes, 1962)

44. Matango (Ishiro Honda, 1963)

45. The servant (Joseph Losey, 1963)

46. The wheeler dealers (Arthur Hill, 1963)

47. West 11 (Michael Winner, 1963)

48. Atout cœur à Tokyo pour OSS 117 (Michel Boisrond, 1966)

49. Missione speciale Lady Chaplin (Alberto di Martino, 1966)

50. New York chiama Superdrago (Giorgio Ferroni, 1966)

51. Upperseven, l’uomo da uccidere (Alberto de Martino, 1966)

52. What’s up, Tiger Lily? (Woody Allen y Senkichi Taniguchi, 1966)

53. How to succeed in business without really trying (David Swift, 1967)

54. La piel quemada (Josep Maria Forn, 1967)

55. The million eyes of Sumuru (Lindsay Shonteff, 1967)

56. Un millón en la basura (Jose Maria Forque, 1967)

57. Corri, uomo, corri! (Sergio Sollima, 1968)

58. Las secretarias (Pedro Lazaga, 1968)

59. Marquis de Sade: Justine (Jess Franco, 1969)

60. Adios, Sabata (Gianfranco Parolini, 1970)

61. El dinero tiene miedo (Pedro Lazaga, 1970)

62. Il trono di fuoco (Jess Franco, 1970)

63. Performance (Donald Cammell y Nicolas Roeg, 1970)

64. La coda dello scorpione (Sergio Martino, 1971)

65. Asylum (Roy Ward Baker, 1972)

66. El castillo de la pureza (Arturo Ripstein, 1972)

67. Il tuo vizio è una stanza chiusa e solo io ne ho la chiave (Sergio Martino, 1972)

68. La dama rossa uccide sette volte (Emilio Miraglia, 1972)

69. La noche del terror ciego (Amando de Ossorio, 1972)

70. Perché quelle strane gocce di sangue sul corpo di Jennifer? (Giuliano Carnimeo, 1972)

71. The candidate (Michael Ritchie, 1972)

72. Tutti i colori del buio (Sergio Martino, 1972)

73. Eugenie (Jess Franco, 1973).

74. Sette orchidee macchiate di rosso (Umberto Lenzi, 1973)

75. Asesinato en el Orient Express (Sydney Lumet, 1974)

76. Los nuevos españoles (Roberto Bodegas, 1974)

77. Stavisky (Alain Resnais, 1974)

78. Norma Rae (Martin Ritt, 1979)

79. The China syndrome (James Bridges, 1979)

80. Rollover (Alan J Pakula, 1981).

81. Halloween III (Tommy Lee Wallace, 1983)

82. Local hero (Bill Forsyth, 1983)

83. Silkwood (Mike Nicholls, 1983).

84. Brewster’s millions (Walter Hill, 1985)

85. Baby boom (Charles Shyer, 1987)

86. The secret of my success (Herbert Ross, 1987).

87. Wall Street (Oliver Stone, 1987)

88. Police Story 2 (Jackie Chan, 1988)

89. Tucker: the man and his dream (Francis Ford Coppola, 1988)

90. Working girl (Mike Nichols, 1988)

91. Dealers (Colin Buckley, 1989)

92. Pretty Woman (Garry Marshall, 1990)

93. Other people’s money (Norman Jewison, 1991)

94. Glengarry Glen Ross (James Foley, 1992)

95. Split Second (Tony Maylam, 1992)

96. The distinguished gentleman (Jonathan Lynn, 1992)

97. The Hudsucker proxy (Ethan y Joel Coen, 1994).

98. Dos tontos muy tontos (Peter Farrelly, 1995)

99. Waterworld (Kevin Reynolds, 1995)

100. Jerry Maguire (Cameron Crowe, 1996)

101. La guerra del opio (Jin Xie, 1997)

102. Ressources humaines (Laurent Cantet, 1999)

103. Rogue trader (James Dearden, 1999)

104. Boiler room (Ben Younger, 2000)

105. Naufrago (Robert Zemeckis, 2000)

106. Pan y rosas (Ken Loach, 2000)

107. El empleo del tiempo (Laurent Cantet, 2001).

108. The bank (Robert Connolly, 2001)

109. The navigators (Ken Loach, 2001)

110. Smoking room (Roger Gual y Julio D. Wallovits, 2002)

111. Owning Mahowny (Richard Kwietniowski, 2003)

112. El principio de Arquimedes (Gerardo Herrero, 2004)

113. A bittersweet life (Kim Jee-woon, 2005)

114. Arcadia (Costa Gavras, 2005)

115. Cinderella man (Ron Howard, 2005)

116. El metodo (Marcelo Piñeyro, 2005)

117. Thank you for smoking (Jason Reitman, 2005)

118. The constant gardener (Fernando Meirelles, 2005)

119. A good year (Ridley Scott, 2006)

120. Blood diamond (Edward Zwick, 2006)

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fanficksandimagines · 6 years

Text

“Collateral beauty”- E.D. {Part 3}

Reader x Ethan

Word count: 2413

Warnings: 😔…. I guess that’s it…

Song to listen to - “Let’s hurt tonight” by One Republic

A/N: this part goes out to @renidolan847 once again :)

For those who don’t want to wait up for the next part and prefer reading on wattpad, here’s a link:

https://www.wattpad.com/story/134309063-collateral-beauty-e-d

💛 you guys!

“So what’s the next step?” Raffey asked as they all were sitting in the auditorium.

“You’ll have to engage with him one more time in public,” Grayson started, “But this time-“

“You need to provoke like a visible reaction.”- Ryan stepped in the conversation.

“Why?” Beth and Raffey asked at the same time.

“Because I hired someone who will film it and then I will digitally remove you out of it.” Grayson said confusing everyone around except Ryan.

“We’ll use it as- we’ll use it to prove to our last sponsorship that Ethan is not in his right mind to answer and/ or take action in the working on our project.” Graysons words were filled with disappointment. He didn’t want do this to his brother. It just seemed like he had no other choice left.

Ethan was once again standing at the Mendes’ doorstep. This time he knocked. His fist hit the red wooden door 3 times. A few moments later Lora opened the door with a warm but sad smile on her face.

“Ethan, nice to see you! Do you want to come inside?” she asked, to which Ethan just shook his head no.

Lora stepped out of the warm house and on to the stairs, closing the door behind her. The cold air made her shiver slightly as she wrapped her arms around her body as to try to keep the warmth to herself.

“There’s a thing called bereavement hallucinations?” He asked looking at her.

“Yes.” She nodded.

“Alright, um, it’s probably because I don’t sleep. I get like 8 to 10 hours of sleep a week. That’s probably why.” He rambled nervously, Lora gestured him to go on,

“I’m having conversations. Conversations with these obstructions.” He finished off.

“Do you want to go for a walk and have a conversation with me?” Lora suggested, and Ethan nodded.

She quickly walked inside to put on her shoes and grab a jacket, before walking outside on the street with Ethan. During the walk Ethan explained how he wrote these letters to these three obstructions and how they were coming to him now in person.

“What was the trade?” Lora asked the young man next to her, “You said, that death wouldn’t make the trade. What did you mean by that?”

Ethan looked at his hands

“When they told me that my girlfriend was dying. I- I prayed. Not to God or the universe, but to death… I offered a trade- take me and leave her… but she didn’t want to make the trade.” Ethan explained scared of what Lora might say.

There was a long pause in the conversation, they kept walking down the street.

“They were preparing Y/n… to- to take her off of life support, and to say goodbye… and you lost it. You were crying and you went to the bathroom because you felt sick. Grayson went after you, so I was left alone. My father, James, he was in the parking lot trying to calm himself down, so I was left alone in the waiting room. All by myself, crying… And then there was this old women who sat next to me and she asked me who was I about to lose, and I told her that it was my daughter… and she looked at me and she said ‘Just be sure to notice the collateral beauty. She said- she said it so casually.” Lora told Ethan who couldn’t control his tears remembering what happened that day.

“I didn’t understand it at the time, but I realized that it wasn’t from sympathy or awkwardness. It was from experience. See, I’d burst into tears occasionally… but those weren’t Y/n tears. Those were the tears from something else. From this profound connection to everything. It was the collateral beauty.” She explained to the broken boy.

They had stopped on the street as Ethan sobbed.

“It will never bring her back, Ethan. And it will never be okay and fine, but I promise you, it’s there… and you have to move on. You have to live on.” Lora said her own tears running down her cheeks.

“Why doesn't Ethan talk to you? I mean he doesn't talk much in general, but he says a few words to others at least.” Amy asked intrigued.

Graysons jaw clenched at the question.

“I- I- That day, at the hospital, a few hours before Y/n died, I- we- we had an argument. She wasn’t just my brothers’ girlfriend, she was also my best friend… and… and I may or may not said things that I really regret saying. I said things that should’ve never left my mouth. I said it out of frustration and pain, and it’s just- It was awful. I- It- it should’ve stayed a secret between me and her, and only that, but I was just so, so angry and broken it- it just slipped out.” Graysons words radiated regret.

Amy didn’t ask but Grayson knew she wanted to. She wanted to ask ‘what happened? What did you say?’ Grayson had never mentioned it to anyone. After he spilled it to Ethan he never opened his mouth about it again. Not until now. He let out a groan.

“I don’t- I don’t remember what caused our argument, but it was pretty bad, and I just spilled. I told him- I told him something that happened when he wasn’t there…” Gray said looking at Amy as they were walking through a park.

“When we three were 16, there was this party that Y/n wanted to go to. Ethan had a cold so he couldn’t go, so he made me go with her to keep her safe. Long story short we got way too intoxicated for our age, and I kind of spilled my feelings for her, and later things just got worse. We got even more drunk and one thing lead to another and mistakes were made. It wasn’t her fault though. She insisted that she only has feelings for Ethan, and later when that all went down someone had spiked up her drink while we didn’t notice, and my drunken self … decided to take advantage of it.” He admitted something he had never said to anyone.

“I didn’t rape her.” Grayson put his hands up in surrender after noticing Amy staring at him in disgust, “she thought I was Ethan… and I was too drunk and un-happy at the moment, I played along with it. And we didn’t have sex, we made out.” Grayson cleared things up.

“You told him all of this?” she asked in thought.

“I only told him that we made out,” He said.

“wow…” she breathed out “you’re a horrible person.

“ You told your brother that you made out with his girlfriend… and you told him this the day she died.” Her words stung Grayson.

He never forgave himself. It all just made him feel guiltier.

“Have you asked for forgiveness? Like, at least told him that you’re sorry?” Grayson nodded his head ‘no’ in response.

“I’ve tried, but- every time I tried he stormed out, now I don’t even bring it up. He doesn’t talk to me. God, I lost my brother, probably forever, because of a stupid mistake I made.” He was mad at himself.

“Try again.” Amy said, making Grayson confused.

“Try again. Ask him to forgive you. If he’s storming out, stop him. Get it all out. Tell him the full story. Make him understand that you made a mistake that you regret. Apologies and forgive yourself.”

Ethan was walking down the street, just like any other day, only this time he was disturbed by ‘Time’ who was skateboarding right next to him.

“What’s up? You got something to say?” ‘Time asked annoying Ethan.

Ethan stuck his foot in front of the board making ‘Time’ fall to the ground.

“Yeah- yeah, I have a lot of things to say to you!” Ethan said.

“Well then say it. Say it!... See? You just waste time. See, I give you a gift and you just waste it!” ‘Time’ shouted at Ethan.

Ethan bent down to Raffeys level, “I don’t care about time. I don’t want your gift,” he shouted picking up the board and throwing it away

“Cause’ you took hers.” Ethan walked away as ‘Time’ looked after him.

He didn't notice, but there was a woman filming the whole scene.

#ethan dolangrayson dolandolan twinsethan grant dolanimaginesethan dolan imaginedolan twins imaginestorycollateral beautymoviewattpaddeathlov #ethan dolan #grayson dolan #ethan grant dolan #grayson bailey dolan #imagine #collateral beauty #ethan dolan imagine #love #time #death #writing #part 3 #movie #sad

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lapetiteshippeuse · 3 years

Text

Road : *tired* Okay, what is so urgent that you called me and begged me to come over at 7:30 in the morning ?

Lavi : I know you already read my mind, and you're right.

Lavi : ...

Lavi : But I CAN'T tell you what it is.

Lavi : I should tell you. But I can't !

Lavi : I have to. I never will !

Lavi : I'm going to. Let's just drop it. What's up with you ?

Road : Lavi, just say it.

Lavi : ...

Lavi : I think I'm in love with Lenalee.

Road : *big face*

Road : I don't believe it. I thought you called me over here to uncuff from your sex swing again but, you're in love ?

Lavi : ...

Road : That's so sweet !

Lavi : *disgusted* Naaaah, it's not sweet ! It's like a decease ! I slept with Lenalee one time and I caught feelings. *devastated* I caught feelings bad. I used protection and everything.

Road : *laughs* Oh, Lavi, you don't catch feelings, you just have them. And they're good.

Lavi : THEY ARE TERRIBLE

Lavi : I CAN'T EAT I CAN'T SLEEP

Lavi : She's all I think about, I close my eyes I see Lenalee. I-I hear a song, it reminds me Lenalee.

Some girl : Morning.

Lavi : I sleep with that chick, I'm thinking about Lenalee !

#if d gray man was un really life #headcanon #lavi bookman #road kamelot #source: how i met your mother

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sending-the-message · 6 years

Text

A former stalker has been texting me. She's been dead for a year. (Part 6) by Tiro1000

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Ever since my first post about this, there are two consistent things that the readers have been telling me. Stay safe. And be careful. I’m starting to think that maybe I should have listened.

I didn’t go to church on Sunday. The services weren’t really doing anything for me. I mostly went the times I did to ask Father Frank for advice, but something told me that roping the priest into Eric’s Murder Fun-Time Mystery was a mistake. Instead, I tried to get some answers. Kaitlyn’s phone barely got to the third ring before she answered.

“Eric?” She asked as she answered. She seemed quite surprised that I was calling her, probably as surprised as myself.

“Hey Katie,” I said. “There’s something I wanted to ask you about.”

“Uh, sure. What is it?”

“Probably not the best to ask over the phone. Are you free to meet up?”

She paused, like she was thinking about it. “Okay, sure. Just don’t come here.” Like that wasn’t obvious enough. “Meet me at the library downtown.”

“Sounds good.” We agreed on a time and said our goodbyes.

Beth’s voice, or what I had come to learn as Beth’s voice, chimed in as soon as I got into my car. “Where are we going?” She asked. She said ‘we’ instead of ‘you’. I don’t know why, but it made me feel a bit more at ease than when she used to ask me.

“Looking for answers.” I said matter-of-factly. I hadn’t told her about my plan.

“Okay. Where do we start?”

“Kaitlyn might know something.” I said. The silence crept in, as expected.

“Eric, I don’t want to drag her into this.”

“We might not have a choice, Beth.” I told her. “If your father had anything to do with your death, she may be the only one willing to talk.” Unless Kaitlyn had something to do with it. But I wasn’t about to say that. “Besides, if the abuse transferred over to her, wouldn’t you want to know?” She didn’t answer right away, so I pressed the question. “Has it?”

“I don’t know.”

I was about to ask why she hadn’t checked, but I decided not to push further.

Katie seemed happy to see me. “Eric!” She said as she walked up and hugged me.

I really needed to put the brakes on her. I pulled away and cleared my throat. “Hey Katie.” Her face was a mix of mild disappointment and embarrassment when I didn’t return the sentiment. And something else. Her right eye looked... Off. Like she had put too much make-up around it. It wouldn’t take a detective to guess what happened. “Is everything alright?” I asked.

“Yeah.” She answered, brushing the question off. “So... What’s up?”

I didn’t push it; not yet at least. I gestured toward the back of the building. Behind the library was a creek and a bridge that led into the city’s main park. The water was low this time of year, and the smell wasn’t the best. Regardless, it was a popular hang out spot. She looked at me expectedly as I leaned over the railing. The words weren’t easy to find. “I wanted to ask you about Beth.”

I cold tell she was surprised that I called her out here to talk about her sister. Maybe even a little hurt, although that didn’t last long. “Okay?... What did you want to know?”

“What happened that night?” I asked. “The night she died.”

The question seemed to strike a cord, which was expected. Her excited demeanor seemed to wash away as she heard the words. “Well, I wasn’t there.” She said. “I was sleeping over at my friend’s house. I didn’t really want to, but Beth insisted.”

“Insisted?” I asked.

She nodded. “She always pushed for me to get out of the house whenever I could. Sometimes I thought she didn’t want me around.”

‘No,’ I thought to myself, ‘she was protecting you.’ “Did anything stand out about that day?”

“Well,” she said as she thought, “Beth was really down about something. I just assumed it was about you.” She quickly caught her statement and waved her hands at me. “No offense!”

“Don’t worry about it.” I told her. “Anything else?”

“I called her that night. She was crying.” She recalled. “I really wanted to come home to be with her, but she was adamant about me staying out.”

That felt important. I made a note of it and moved on. “Where were your parents?”

“They were having dinner at a friend’s house. They said they were staying the night, had too much to drink.” Her hands fidgeted with each other. She was nervous.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Nothing.” She answered. I couldn’t tell, but I had the gut feeling there was more to it.

My phone vibrated. I quickly looked at it, trying to keep my attention on the conversation.

Beth: Ask her about Dad.

I cringed a bit, and Kaitlyn noticed. I wasn’t looking forward to this part of the conversation. “How well do you get along with your father?”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“Your dad, how does he treat you?” I turned to face her.

“Okay, I guess.” Her hands fidgeted again.

I stared her down. “What happened to your eye? He wasn’t happy that you let me in?”

“Eric, what are you--”

“What else has he done? Has he hit you before that?”

“What? No, he--”

I cut her off again. “Does he touch you?”

“No!” She exclaimed meekly as she stepped away from me.

“Cut the shit, Katie!” I snapped. I don’t know why I was getting angry. “Beth told me about what he did!”

She was speechless. “What?...”

“Oh, you mean you didn’t know? How is that possible?” I said as I stepped over to her. “You mean to tell me your sister was being abused and you had no fucking clue!?”

“Eric, stop!” She cried as she backed away from me, tears rolling down her cheeks.

I caught my anger. I didn’t come here to yell at her or even confront her. I took a deep breath. “I need your help Katie. I don’t think Beth killed herself. Something doesn’t feel right.” I stepped to her again and put my hand on her shoulder. “Is there anything you haven’t told me?”

Her lips quivered and her breath shuddered. She smacked my hand away. “I have to go!” She said as she turned and ran. I was about to go after her, but I decided against it. Beth seemed to agree with me.

Beth: Let her go.

I sighed. “Sorry. That didn’t go quite as planned.”

Beth: It’s okay.

Beth: Eric. She was hiding something.

“No shit.” I said as I walked back toward my car. As I passed the library, a guy about my age with red hair stopped me.

“Hey, you got any cigarettes I can bum?”

I shrugged. “Sorry man, don't smoke." That stuff will kill you.

Monday came along and life had to continue. My boss didn’t seem too upset with me for leaving early on Friday, so that was a plus. My conversations with Beth had changed. Beforehand, I would only talk to her when I had a question or information for her. But over the past couple days, I found I was just talking to her about anything. TV shows I watched, games I’ve played, books I’ve read. I’ve also been texting her on my breaks, and even while sitting in my apartment.

I think her voice is changing too. The app’s voice I mean. Every time I talk to her, she sounds less like an app and more like a person. I just attributed that to my imagination though. Point is, it’s become easier and easier to talk with her. I confess that on Tuesday, I was actually looking forward to talking to her on the way home. It makes me think that if I gave her more of a chance when she was alive, we could have been good friends. Or maybe... Who knows.

I had just finished telling her about a show I was watching when I pulled into my apartment complex.

“Maybe we can watch it together sometime?” She asked.

I thought about it. It actually sounded fun, but I still wasn’t sure about letting her into my apartment. Not that it was sounding too dangerous, I just wasn’t sure if I was ready. “Maybe.” I told her. “Well, we’re here. Text you in a bit?” I asked as I turned my car off.

“Sure.” She said.

I walked up to my apartment. My phone vibrated as I unlocked the door. “Just a second.” I told her. It vibrated again after I got inside. “Jeeze, impatient are we?” I pulled my phone out to check the messages. Then everything went dark.

The next thing I knew, I was sitting in my living room with a splitting headache. Everything looked blurry. I brought my hand up to eyes to rub them out. No, I tried. My hands weren’t moving. Why weren’t they moving? I tried moving again. My shoulders hurt. My hands were pinned behind my back. I tried moving my legs. They weren’t moving either. I looked around the room. Everything looked odd. Then I saw them: three figures sitting at my kitchen table. “He’s moving.” I heard one of them say.

“Good.” Another said. I swear I recognized the voice. He walked over to me, leaning over to smack my face gently. “You awake, kid?” My eyes focused just enough to see his face. Sean McDonnell. I struggled and tried to scream. It came out as a muffled hum. I moved my jaw and felt something soft against my tongue. I was gagged. I was tied down. “I’m sorry?” He taunted. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

He pulled a chair from the kitchen and sat across from me. My eyes focused just enough to see the other two in the room. And older man with gray hair, that I had never seen before. The other guy I recognized. He asked me for a cigarette at the library. Sean gave me another gentle smack to get my attention back. “Hey, eyes here.” He said. “Do you know why I’m here?” I shook my head. He chuckled. “Of course you do. I told you to stay the fuck away from my daughter. Simple, right?

“Well, I get a call from Andrew here, saying that you were talking to her at the park. Sound familiar?” I look over at ‘Andrew’. He just smirks at me. “Then,” Sean continued, “She comes home, asking questions about her sister; about when she died. So here’s what’s going to happen. I’m gonna un-gag you, and you’re going to tell me what you told my daughter. If you scream, I break your fucking face. If you lie, I break your fucking face. Understand?”

I nodded weakly. He untied and pulled the cloth away from my face. My mouth was dry and the corners of my lips were sore. I took a moment until he looked at me, waiting for me to talk. “Why did you kill your daughter?” I asked.

He chuckled again, then stood. “You fucking kidding me right now? She killed herself because of you! I loved my daughter!”

I scoffed. “Yeah,” I said, “a little too much from what I’ve been told.” I don’t know what made me say that, but I immediately regretted it. Sean’s face went white for a moment, then flushed red with fury. Blunt pain met my face as he struck me in the cheek hard enough to tilt my chair for a moment. I felt something hard on my tongue. I spit it out, seeing one of my teeth in a small puddle of my blood. I wondered how my blood could puddle like that on the carpet. Then I saw it. Plastic. My floor was covered in plastic. The gag was already back in my mouth when I started screaming. I’ve watched enough TV to know what the plastic was for; to know I was probably going to die there.

“Think we’ve scared him enough?” Andrew asked.

Sean shook his head. “You see Andrew, this guy’s dad was a cop. And with that comes a cop’s upbringing. Which means that if we let him go, he’s gonna talk.” I shook my head frantically. I wanted nothing more at that moment than to just let this all go and put it behind me.

“So what then?”

Sean leaned down to pat me on the shoulder. “Mikey’s gonna take care of him.” The older guy’s eyes lit up at that. Mine went wide.

“Hold on,” the younger guy said, “you don’t mean kill him, do you? You never told me we were going to kill him!”

“Keep your fucking voice down!” Sean shouted in a whisper. He stepped over to Andrew, stabbing a finger at him. He then took a deep breath and put his hands on the shaking man’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. Mikey’s been doing this a long time. No one will find out.”

Andrew gulped down, then nodded. “Alright...” He still didn’t sound convinced.

“Good kid.” He said as he grabbed his jacket off my table. “You got this Mikey?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” He asked as he brought a tool box over to the chair across from me.

“Sounds good. Come on kid.” He told Andrew. “Let’s go get a beer. Then I need to talk to my daughter.”

Sean and Andrew left, leaving ‘Mikey’ alone with me. Mikey sat down across from me, staring into my eyes. After a few minutes, he reached into his tool box and pulled out a silver case. He opened it, pulling out a brown cigar. “You mind if I smoke?” I didn’t answer, not that I could. He cut the end off, then lit it. The air filled with the aroma of fine tobacco. “You know kid, you remind me a lot of myself when I was your age. Full of passion, felt like I was always right.” He took another puff, blowing the smoke in my face.

“You know, you’re pretty good-looking. I bet the girls love you.” I glared at him, up to the moment that he reached over. I struggled for a moment until he held my head still with his other hand. It first felt cold on my cheek, then hot as he dragged the lit end of his cigar along the side of my face. The air was filled with sizzling and my muffled screams as I smelled myself burning. He finally stopped when he reached the bottom of my earlobe.

I was hyperventilating. I knew there was an afterlife, and I had a good feeling I wouldn’t be alone. But I still didn’t want to die. I was afraid. I tried to plead for my life, but no one would listen. “Alright.” The man said as he pulled a scalpel out of his tool box.

And then suddenly, I felt at peace. ‘I’m sorry Beth.’ I thought to myself. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

He stood and leaned over to me, holding the scalpel close to my face. “I have to take out anything they can identify you with. You understand, right?” I just stared at him as he brought the blade toward my eye.

‘This is it.’ I thought. A chill ran down my spine. Then over me. The room was actually getting colder, much colder. Mikey noticed it, pulling back as the lights flickered.

“What the hell?” He said, his breath puffing out in little clouds as he did.

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!” A loud voice shrieked as Mikey was slammed to the ground by an invisible force.

The old man smacked against the chair on his way down. He slowly turned over, a look of shock on his face. “Wha..Wh--” His confusion was cut off as he started clenching his chest. His face tensed in pain, his forehead glistened with sweat. “Help...” He had the audacity to say as he fell back to the ground. Then... Nothing. He remained still for what must have been minutes.

It took a few minutes for the situation to hit me. Once it did, I didn’t need any explanation of who rescued me. My desire to live was renewed and I struggled against my restraints. They were tight, there was no way I was going to get free. Unless... I had to try. I pivoted my weight to shuffle my chair 90 degrees. It took some effort, but eventually my back was facing the entrance to my apartment, which had a small step that led into the living room. Just what I needed. I continued to shuffle until I was in position. If I missed, I was fucked. If this didn’t work like in the movies, I was fucked.

‘Here goes nothing.’ I thought as I shifted my hands, using my left to grip the butt of the chair. It took a few tries, but I shifted my weight enough to fall backward. My positioning must have been perfect, because the chair stopped at a twenty degree angle from the floor with excruciating pain shooting through my left hand as it cracked. Luckily I already had something to bite down on as I screamed. I shifted my weight to roll on my side. It still took some effort and a lot of pain, but the injured hand eventually slipped out of the restraint. My good hand was free as well, a zip-tie around the wrist. God, I’d hate to get used to saying that. My good hand.

With my arms free, I was able to reach for the scalpel that Mikey dropped. A few slices later, my legs were free. I rolled out of the chair and stood up, struggling to untie the gag; spitting the bloody rag out of my mouth. I first checked the man who tried to kill me for a pulse. Nothing. Good riddance. I sat down for a moment to calm down. The adrenaline started to thin. First came the pain. My God, I hurt. Then the nausea. I stumbled halfway to the bathroom before vomiting on the floor.

“Eric?” I heard. I looked around, then I heard it again. “Eric!” It was Beth.

“Beth?” I called. “Where are you?”

“Kitchen table. Get up!”

I got up and stumbled over to the kitchen. I glanced at the phone on my table, then went to the sink. I opened the cabinet underneath to grab my first aid kit. “Did you do that?” I asked, referring to Mikey.

“Yes.” The phone said. I swear it sounded like Beth’s actual voice, not that I had time to figure it out.

“How?” I asked as I set the kit on the table. I grabbed a roll of gauze, fitting it into the palm of my left hand. I then started wrapping it with a bandage. You learn a few things when you’re the son of a cop.

“Pacemaker.” Beth answered. “I drew energy from it to push him. I guess that killed it.”

“Makes sense.” I said as I stepped back to my sink. I filled a glass with cold water, then poured it over my burned cheek. “How’d you get in?”

“Whatever you did wore off a few days ago.” Beth answered. So house blessings do wear off after a while. Good to know. “Eric, he’s going after Kaitlyn.”

“I know.” I told her as I left the kitchen. I went to my bedroom, to the safe I kept in my closet. Inside was the Colt 1911 Uncle Rob bought me for my 21st birthday. Well, he took me to buy it, after paying for the licenses and everything. I’m not a gun person, so I convinced him to get me something with a bit of history behind it. It was used in France, and now it was going to protect me. I pocketed the gun and clip separately, then ran back into the kitchen. I grabbed the phone off the table, quickly dialing Kaitlyn’s number.

“Hello?” A meek voice asked.

“Katie!” I said into the phone. I grabbed my keys and ran out the door. “Where are you?”

“I’m at home, wh--”

“Is your dad home!?” I asked her frantically. It was an effort keeping the phone to my ear while opening the car with one hand. I managed.

“No, not yet. What’s going on Eric?”

“Okay, I need you to listen to me. You’re in danger. I need you to get out of there.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ll explain it to you when I pick you up.” I took a deep breath, trying to sound calm. “Please Katie. Trust me.”

She paused for a minute. “Okay... Where should I go?”

“Elverta park.” I told her. “Go out the back, make sure you’re not being followed.”

“Eric, I--”

“Go, now!” I hung up with her, quickly picking another number from my contacts. I sped down the road as the rings drew on.

“You’ve reached the cell phone of Detective Rob Combs of the--”

I skipped to the beep. “Uncle Rob, it’s Eric. I need you to get to my apartment. I promise I’ll explain later, but you’re gonna want to be the first one there. Call me!” I clicked off the phone. “Beth, can you get to her?”

“I’ll try.” She said.

“Good, keep her safe until I get there.”

I was breaking every speed limit on the way to the park. Despite my lack of faith, I prayed. I prayed with all my heart that her father didn’t get to her before me. Relief washed over me as I saw her standing on the street corner. “Was she followed?” I asked aloud.

“No.” Beth said from my phone.

“Good.” I pulled up to the curb, opening my passenger window. “Get in!” I called out to her. I reached over and pushed the door open for her.

“Eric, what’s going on!?” She said. I could tell she was scared.

I softened my voice, holding out my hand toward her. “It’s going to be okay Katie. Trust me.” I offered a gentle smile to her.

She looked around for a moment, then looked behind her shoulder; startled. She then closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Alright.” She said as she got in. She gasped when she saw the bandaged hand and the burn. “Oh my god, Eric! What happened to you!?”

“I’ll tell you everything once we’re somewhere safe.” And off we went into the night.

“You think my dad killed Beth?” She asked. I told her everything with the exception of anything involving Beth’s ghost.

“After today, I really don’t have any doubt.” She went silent. I looked over at her, she still seemed apprehensive. “Listen, I know you’re hiding something about what happened that night. But you don’t have to tell me right know. I’d honestly rather get some sleep first.”

“We’re not going to the hospital?” She asked.

“No. If we go to the hospital, the police are going to want to hold me for questioning. I don’t have the time for that right now. I need to get you somewhere safe.” That seemed to satisfy her for the moment. We drove a few towns over and got a motel room. When I had a moment, I asked Beth if anyone followed us. She said no, so I think we’re safe for the time being.

“You want to explain why there’s a god damn dead body in your apartment!?” Uncle Rob sounded upset to say the least.

“Sean McDonnell.” I said. “You need to look for Sean McDonnell.” I repeated everything I had told Kaitlyn.

“You need to come make a statement.” He said sternly. “Both of you.”

“Yeah yeah, I know. We could also include that with an emergency room visit. Tomorrow, if you’re cool with it.”

“Just come to the station now. Fuck, Eric. You shouldn’t have left the fucking scene.”

“I had no choice!” I snapped. I took a deep breath. “Sorry Uncle Rob, shitty day.”

“Understandable.” He sighed. “Alright, tomorrow then.”

And that’s where we’re at. I’ll update you when I can, but frankly I’m in a lot of pain and writing this on my phone isn’t easy. I’ve had what I can probably safely say is the worst day of my life. Katie is sleeping right now. I waited until she was out before coming out to my car to write this. I think I’m entitled to pass out from the pain as soon as I submit this.

Beth and I talked for a bit while I was writing. “I’m so glad you’re safe. When he was about to cut you, I--”

“I know.” I cut her off gently. “Thank you for saving me.” I set my phone down to relax for a moment. “You know,” I told her, “for a second there, I was ready. I realized that at least I’d see you again. And for the first time since we talked again, I thought to myself, ‘maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.’” I looked over to where I imagined her sitting, gazing. I felt her gaze as well, until I felt a chill run over my burned cheek, like an ethereal hand. Then I felt her on my lips. Cold, yet warm enough to melt me. And I didn’t pull away.

#reddit #nosleep #scary #story

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vowel-in-thug · 7 years

Note

orange verse silverflint "can i open my eyes yet?"

Allie, my love, I’m so glad I could answer this question, today of all days.

Actually you know I’ve been feeling like hell for the last few days, sick and the gray January weather and today bringing out the end times, etc etc, not to mention the closer we get to season 4, the more anxious I get.

So it was nice to retreat back into my orange world again.

set after st. augustine is that way. WARNING: gratuitous domesticity. Also this got long D: my streak of writing short things ended after two fics

"can i open my eyes yet?"

Flint was headed out into the grove at dawn when Señor Fernandez rides up around the side of the house. Flint tensed. All he had on him was a basket and a piece of hard bread, nothing to cause any real damage. It was the middle of summer, and he was already sweating through his shirt.

Silver had been up a moment ago, but once he ate a bit of breakfast with Flint, he went back to dozing in the bedroom. The humidity of August made him act as drowsy and irritating as a pregnant cat.

“Hola, Santi,” said Fernandez.

Flint winced. Silver had started calling him that at the taberna and now everyone did it. As far as he could remember, Fernandez had never been to Flint’s orange grove. “What can I do for you, sir?”

Fernandez looked uncomfortable up on his horse. He shifted idly, swatting at a mosquito on his neck. He glanced around for a moment, and Flint realized he was searching for Silver.

“I promised Lua I would come by,” Fernandez started. “Last night, after you two left for home, a man came in. A stranger. English. He was looking for someone he couldn’t name. A man with one leg.”

Flint gripped his bread loaf tightly. He said, somewhat incorrectly, “Lots of men have only one leg.”

“You’re right,” Fernandez agreed quickly. But then he added, “The rest of his description, though. Sounded a lot like your cousin.”

“And what did anyone tell this stranger?” He tried hard to keep his voice sounding like Santiago Quijuana and not Captain Flint.

“Nothing,” said Fernandez. “But I doubt we were the only people he asked.”

Flint set down his basket, teeth clenched. “What did this man look like?”

“Rough,” he said. “Strange.” Which was about as much detail as Flint would get.

“My cousin was a seafarer,” said Flint. “You all know this. He dealt with all sorts of people. Even so despicable as an Englishman. I’ll speak to him about it when he wakes.”

Fernandez nodded. “I promised Lua I would tell you,” he said again.

He was about to ride off when Flint called out to him.

“The stranger,” Flint said. “Was he alone?”

A curious look passed over Fernandez’s face. “No,” he said. “As a matter of fact, he wasn’t. “He had two women with him.”

Flint dug up the buried treasure that morning instead of picking oranges. Just in case.

He finished hiding it in the cellar beneath the house. He went in through the back door to see if Silver was up, and he heard him talking in the front room. It wasn’t unusual. Silver often spoke to the cats, as well as to himself. It had started as a habit to annoy Flint, but now he did seemed to do it all the time, narrating each step in his recipes in the kitchen at work, chatting with objects he used and giving them names (his reserved teacup was named Madi, his knife Betsy). Flint wasn’t concerned about it -- Silver just needed stories to tell.

But then Flint heard a reply -- a woman’s voice, out on the front porch.

He made his way swiftly and silently through his home, but hung back in the shadows. Silver was standing outside, the front door open for the cats to roam in and out freely. Flint could see his knuckles white and livid on his crutch.

“When I said I owed you a favor,” Silver said, sounding incredulous, “this wasn’t what I fucking meant.”

“Well, you should have specified,” said a man’s voice. One Flint, after a moment, recognized.

“Obviously,” said Silver, “I’d thought you’d want something normal, like for me to kill someone. And I honestly thought you were dead by now.”

“You aren’t the only one who can stage a dramatic and wildly inaccurate demise,” said the man.

And there was really no better opening. So Flint chose that moment to step onto the porch.

“No, he isn’t,” he said.

It felt good. Despite the fact that Flint stood there, wearing a sunhat, a loose shirt, and no shoes, Jack Rackham and Anne Bonny still let out audible gasps and drew their guns, while Max swore in French and retreated behind the other two.

“What the fuck--” Anne stared.

“My thoughts exactly,” said Flint. “What the fuck are you doing on my property?”

Jack swallowed visibly, and needed a moment to collect himself before speaking. They were all looking back and forth between Flint and Silver, and Flint figured a hundred answers were probably presenting themselves, just by how close they stood.

“We were looking for him,” Jack said. “He owes us a debt.”

Flint found he didn’t give a fuck what Silver might have needed to owe what was left of the Ranger crew. They had an understanding now -- the only thing in their past they cared about anymore was who topped the night before so they could switch the following night. “How did you find us?”

“That one --” Anne said, pointing at Silver, “left behind a trail of bodies to follow.”

“If you knew what to look for,” Jack interjected. “It wasn’t easy.”

“Now, hang on,” Silver protested. But then all he said was, “How many constitutes a ‘trail?’”

“Ten,” said Max.

Silver appeared to be thinking about it. “...Who was the tenth?”

Flint rolled his eyes. “What the fuck do you want him for?”

Jack smiled. He took a step forward, but at Flint’s glare he didn’t step onto the porch. “We’re of a similar mind, Flint,” he said. “We are also looking for a way out of the life.”

“Well, you can’t stay here.”

“Obviously,” said Max, looking up at their small house and not completely hiding her distaste. “We have one more final prize in our grasp, to secure all of our futures forever.”

The dread Flint had felt all morning, since seeing Senor Fernandez ride up, increased tenfold. He felt ill, acid rolling around his stomach. His heart beat at an irregular and sickly rhythm as he spat out, “He’s not going with you.”

He felt Silver look at him, but he didn’t give a shit. Silver could be as mad at him as he fucking liked, as long as he was mad here.

“Of course he’s not coming,” said Jack.

“That’s not the favor,” Silver added tiredly.

Someone cried out. At first, Flint thought it was one of the cats, until he saw Anne look down, cupping the front of her jacket, which he could tell now was bulging just so, and hush soothingly. An entirely un-Anne Bonny expression was on her face.

“What the fuck is this,” Flint said.

“That,” said Silver, “is the favor.”

As Flint continued to stare, Anne holstered her gun finally to shift aside a pale green blanket. Max crowded close to Anne’ side, stroking the fussy baby’s cheek softly, murmuring to both mother and child.

Jack drew himself up as he glared at Flint and Silver. He looked proud, and also embarrassed by his pride.

“The prize is guaranteed,” he said, “and safe to retrieve. But our plan requires all three of us to get it.”

“Your plan requires Max, too?” Silver asked.

“All plans require me, John Silver,” said Max. “Or have you forgotten so much?”

Silver looked pissed, snarling in a way Flint hadn’t seen since before he’d died. But Silver didn’t say anything in response, fist tightening on his crutch like he wanted to do something instead.

“We should only be gone three weeks,” said Jack. “A month at the outmost. Time is a factor, with this prize.”

They were being deliberately vague, Flint knew, still seeing them as formidable opponents, even though the only prizes Silver won these days were at his weekly poker nights, where he only cheated sometimes, and Flint still wasn’t wearing shoes.

“A month,” he said.

Jack shifted awkwardly. “We obviously didn’t know we’d be asking you, too. I must admit, if it helps, that we are quite desperate in this endeavor. Since Annie’s birth, our desire for security has grown immeasurably.”

“Annie?”

“Anne the Second,” said Anne, then added, “I didn’t fuckin’ name her.”

Jack and Max said nothing, but both looked pleased with themselves.

“And you came here, to ask Silver to watch over your infant daughter for a month.” Flint pointed. “Silver?”

“Like I said, we were desperate.”

“And he’s smart enough to know what I’d do to him if she even so much as fucking burps wrong,” Anne threw in.

Flint had thought it would take him a couple weeks to retrieve the Urca de Lima, once he’d gotten the page. A couple weeks, and then his life would be freedom and security away from the sea. Less than a year later, he’d been faking his death after waging a war against the entire British government. The moment one uttered the words “final prize”, they were tempting fate, and he knew fate had a way of finding the softest parts of one’s self, and digging its teeth in hard. He knew a few weeks was not always a few weeks.

But he knew, too, that second chances were possible. Third and fourth ones, too. He knew the life they were aiming for wasn’t completely unlikely, either.

“Does she eat oranges?” Flint asked.

Silver turned wordlessly and stomped back into the house.

Max smiled. “She likes bananas. But I’m sure she’ll like oranges just fine.”

Silver didn’t stick around to see the three say goodbye to Annie. Flint, honestly, wished he could have left as well. He could have happily gone his whole life without seeing Anne Bonny with tears in her eyes. They said their endeavor was safe, but that was almost a meaningless concept in this life.

He brought the baby inside the house, setting down the small pack Max gave him, filled with some extra clothes and one or two toys. He looked down at Annie.

She peered up at him, large brown eyes blinking in the sudden shade of the house. She hadn’t yet realized her mother had gone, but Flint figured she would soon.

Silver had disappeared. Sometimes they both needed moments to themselves, and would find areas in the property to hide and deal with their intrusive thoughts. Flint let him be. He knew Silver had a problem with what just happened, and figured he would eventually get over it, or fill Flint in on what was bothering him.

Perhaps he just didn’t like children. But Flint had seen him with the boys at the schoolhouse, and he was great with them. Maybe it was babies, then. Flint knew nothing about Silver’s life before Silver had stolen the page to the Urca gold. Had he younger siblings he’d cared for in his youth?

Had he a child of his own, at one point?

The thought made the coil of dread spring back up through his spine, but it had a different edge to it. Fear of a thing that might have happened long ago. Silver had been a young man, then, but not young enough it wasn’t a possibility.

Perhaps he should have told Jack no. He didn’t, honestly, know what made him say yes. Maybe the idea that they weren’t trying to take Silver away had filled him with such relief.

“Are you going to be a problem here?” Flint asked Annie.

Annie blinked at him and gurgled. But that was not unlike how some of his old crew used to respond to him, and he decided he understood the meaning.

He took her out into the grove. Using an empty barrel and some of her blankets, he propped her up under a tree outside the house. He gave her an orange to play with, and watching her clutch it with chubby fingers and shake it like a rattle made Flint feel -- something.

He picked just enough oranges to give to the schoolboys and the guards at the fort, soothed by Annie’s quiet babbling to her makeshift toy. One of the cats came up to her barrel, and Flint nearly leapt off his ladder to shoo it away, but the cat just sniffed her once. Annie tapped its nose, and the cat curled up next to her and fell asleep.

He made his way back to the house shortly after, Annie in one arm, oranges under the other, and found Silver waiting for him to go to work.

“What the fuck were you thinking, exactly?” Silver asked. He still looked pale and mad. “I’ve been trying to figure it out, and nothing I can think of makes any sense.”

Flint only shrugged. He looked down at her again. She had started dozing in his arms.

“I’ve never held a baby before.” Flint realized it was true as soon as he said it. He’d been an only child, and his grandfather’s friends had been too old to have young children for him to play with. And there weren’t any infants running around the Navy yards, or in the brothels and taverns in towns like Tortuga or Port Royale. He couldn’t remember ever even being this close to someone so young and small.

Silver stared at him, a range of emotion passing through his face, before he sighed heavily. He walked up to Flint and Annie, put one hand on Flint’s neck, the other on Anne’s face.

“You have to support her head more,” he said. “Like this.”

“Can I open my eyes yet?” Lua asked.

“Not yet,” said Silver, sneaking past her with the baby.

“I’m not an idiot,” said Lua, opening her eyes. “I’m not the one that knocked up a scary-looking Englishwoman and then let her leave me with the baby.” She glared at the three of them. “No babies in the kitchen, you know this.”

“I’m not --” Silver stopped, then sighed again. Annie reached up with one fist and tugged hard on his beard, but he didn’t even flinch at it. “I’m not going to raise her. I’m watching her while her mother gets herself settled. No more than a month.”

“You should be marrying her,” said Lua.

Silver let out a strangled laugh. “Oh. No, no thank you,” he said. “Besides, I didn’t even agree to watching her. That was him.”

“Fine. Then you’re the idiot,” she said, pointing to Flint. “And you’re just a bastard.”

Then she said, “Stop walking. No babies in my kitchen! It’s too dangerous.”

“You’re going to fire me?”

“Give me the baby,” she said, taking her quickly but gently from Silver. “You, go cook some food. You, deliver your goods as fast as you can to get back here to look after this mistake you’ve made.”

Flint felt anxious, looking at Annie in Lua’s arms. He knew Anne and Jack would probably feel about as happy at a stranger holding her as Captain Flint, which is to say, not at all. The idea of letting her out of his sight unsettled him.

Lua must have seen it on his face because her face relaxed somewhat. “She’ll be fine with me. I’ve raised babies before. Just hurry back, I have a business to run.”

With one last long look at Silver, and an even longer look at Annie, Flint started to leave.

“Alright, Baby,” Silver said behind him. “You be good for Señora Lua.”

“She has no name yet?”

“Oh. It’s Annie. I think.”

He heard Lua scoff. “That’s an English name. Get to work. Come, Ana. I’ll show you how we stock the bar here.”

Flint sat at his usual table near the kitchen, trying to get Annie to eat some banana. She seemed mostly interested in smearing them on her face while using the spoon as a hammer. She looked happy though.

“And that’s when I happened to glance over and saw your Uncle John trying to protect himself with a meat cleaver,” he was saying quietly so no one would hear. “But your Uncle John was an idiot then and didn’t know how to fight, and he would have likely died had Uncle James not come over to save him.”

Annie rubbed some banana between her fingers and looked at Flint. She held up her messy hands to show him.

“That’s very good,” he told her. “Anyway, Uncle John probably should have died, since he nearly killed the fucking crew with an uncooked pig, and glazed it with so much honey, bees had swarmed the whole damn camp. But fortunately your Uncle James knew how to properly cook a pig, because Uncle James was an adult and not a useless fucking thief like your Uncle John was, and that is how I first taught Uncle John how to cook.”

“Oh my god,” said Silver from behind. “Can you please stop? I can’t deal with this.”

Flint looked over his shoulder. “What?”

Silver came up close so no one could hear. He looked pained, hand flat on his stomach. “I don’t understand what I’m looking at or why I like looking at it. But if you don’t stop doing whatever it is you’re doing, there will be little stopping me from throwing you across this table and trying my fucking hardest to put a baby in you.”

Flint flushed, then glared hard at him. “Shut the fuck up.”

“I’m just saying,” said Silver, brushing Annie’s auburn hair back, causing her to look up at him and gesture with her spoon. “I won’t be held responsible for my actions, and it will be hard to run away from the angry Catholic mob with one leg and a baby.”

It didn’t surprise Flint that Silver chose to get over his problem rather than be up front about it. Still, he asked, “Are you finished being an asshole about this, then?”

“The day I finish being an asshole,” said Silver, “is the day you should check for a pulse. Lua said we can go, by the way.”

Night had only just fallen. People were only just starting to eat dinner. “What? Why?”

Silver made a face. “She said young babies need rest. As do new fathers.”

Flint wondered if that included him, and he couldn’t decide if he wanted it to. He watched Silver take a napkin and wipe down Annie’s face and hands gently, saying, “Baby, I see you’ve inherited your manners from your father, but thankfully it seems you’ve got your mother’s mouth instead.” It was true, she was remarkably silent, for a baby. “A part of me hopes you’ll get Max’s intelligence, but the other part of me then fears for the future if that’s the case.”

“Have you ever done this before?” Flint had to ask. “Acted as a father?”

Silver said nothing, busying himself with cleaning up Annie’s mess from the table. Then he looked at Flint and smiled. “Don’t you remember when I acted as your Quartermaster? I was father to dozens of smelly, thieving, rotten children.”

Flint decided to let it go. Silver wasn’t exactly wrong, either.

Flint brought up an empty crate from the cellar, and used piles of straw and blankets to make a crib for Annie. He found in her pack a knitted doll, already worn and stained, the painted features all but gone, and he added it to her new crib.

When he gets back into the bedroom, Silver was lying on the bed shirtless, his hair loose on the pillow. The baby was asleep on his chest, rising and falling with Silver’s even breathing. Flint leaned in the doorway, needing time to take in the sight. Perhaps this was what Silver meant at the tavern, the fondness and protectiveness and, the most inexplicable, the lust he felt cascading through him. He knew Silver was aware of him standing there, and even though Annie slept, Silver still read aloud from the book he held over his face.

“All beasts are happy, for, when they die, their souls are soon dissolv'd in elements,” Silver said quietly, yet still inflecting with a performance. “But mine must live still to be plagu'd in hell. Curs'd be the parents that engender'd me! No, Faustus, curse thyself, curse Lucifer, that hath depriv'd thee of the joys of heaven.”

“Really?” Flint asked, setting the crate down. “Is that the best my bookshelves have to offer a child?”

“She’ll need to learn sometime,” Silver said, lowering the book. He sat up, hand under Annie to keep her still. “Not my fault the devils in this life are unavoidable.”

Flint hummed. “There are two in this room right now, after all.”

Silver smiled.

Then he said, as Flint leaned down to take the baby from him, “Put her out in the hall.”

Flint gave him a look.

“Leave the door open, then, so we can hear her,” Silver said, rolling his eyes. “You won't even let me touch you when the cats are in the room.”

Flint kissed him softly, one hand cupping the back of Annie’s head to support her just how Silver showed him. “That's because the cats aren't supposed to be in the fucking house.”

“Well, I put them all outside for the night, because of the baby,” Silver said. “I’m afraid we’ll be facing a mutiny from them tomorrow.”

“Is it wrong that the thought of a mutiny makes me almost nostalgic?” Flint asked, placing Annie in her crib, now just outside the room. She snuffled as he set her down on her stomach, tiny fists curling in her sleep in a way that resembled her mother.

“Yes,” said Silver. “Incredibly wrong.”

Flint crawled into the bed, wrapping himself around Silver. Silver’s chest was still warm from where Annie had been sleeping. Sometimes it didn't feel enough, to just kiss Silver, so Flint bit Silver’s bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth, wanting to consume all of him.

Silver tugged Flint’s shirt off, then shook Flint’s hair loose from its tie. He pulled at Flint until he was stretched all the way over him, full weight pressing down. They were sticky without even exerting themselves, the thick humidity of the summer not relenting even after the sun fell away. Silver often complained about the heat, except when they were lying together. Then, it was like Flint was the only thing protecting him from a cold and unforgiving world.

“Why did you agree to do this?” Silver murmured against him. “Why would you take her in?”

Flint looked out in the hallway, where Annie slept on, cooing softly in a dream. “I didn't think I’d ever have another opportunity,” he said. “It's not like I’ll ever have one of my own. I just -- wondered what it would feel like.”

He hadn't pictured a family in years. As a youth, before he’d truly known himself, he thought he’d have a wife and kids the way men were supposed to, and the idea had filled him with a horrible nausea, which he'd attributed to losing his freedom as a single man. With the Hamiltons, later, they would all discuss welcoming children into their home, Flint helping raise them as another parent, like Max was to Annie and Jack. On Nassau, afterwards, soon after they’d arrived, Miranda had brought up the idea of them having a child together, and Flint should have obliged her, knowing keenly of her loneliness and isolation as he sailed without her. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, unwilling at the time to pass on a name that was false and a bloodline that was evil and violent. He hadn't wanted to have anything so human as a family.

He and Silver were a family now. He knew that. He loved that. But still, he’d wanted to know what it felt like, just for a little while, to be slightly bigger than what they were.

“This was a terrible idea,” said Silver.

Flint blinked at him. “Why’s that?”

“Because I can see the look on your face,” said Silver solemnly. “We’re eventually, hopefully, going to have to give that baby back to her parents, and you’re going to devastated. And then I’m going to have to steal you a baby to cheer you up again.”

“You won't have to steal me a baby,” Flint said, frowning.

“Nah,” said Silver. “I’ll do it. But this time we’re letting Lua think it's your illegitimate child.”

Flint kissed him again, pushing him back against the pillows. He didn't want Silver to steal him a baby, but if he did it, Flint didn't know how hard he’d protest.

“Why did you agree to this?” Flint asked, a moment later. “You know, eventually.”

Silver's hands moved low down his back, stroking at the base of his spine. “I have this bad habit of indulging your most insane whims,” he murmured, running his nails lightly over Flint’s skin. “I really need to grow out of that some day.”

Flint pressed one more kiss into Silver’s mouth before inching lower, leaving a wet trail over Silver’s throat and down his chest. He lifted off to say, unlacing Silver’s breeches, “Allow me to indulge you, then, for awhile.”

---

Flint awoke to an empty bed. He stretched, pulling the thin sheet off his lower body. The morning heat was already cruel and overwhelming. The only nice thing about the summer was it required more baths, and more opportunities to bathe Silver.

The crib in the hallway, when he walked by, was also empty.

He found Silver sitting at the table, like always. Silver's hair was knotted high on his head, and Flint watched the beads of sweat drip down his bare back, suddenly desperately thirsty.

Silver had Annie balanced on his lap. In one hand he held Betsy the knife. In the other, he held an orange.

“Here, Baby,” Silver was saying, slicing up the orange “I know you’ll appreciate this trick the schoolboys taught me.” He stuck the piece, rind and all, in his mouth.

Flint was too warm. He itched from too many mosquito bites, and his back ached from age and lugging oranges every day. His chest hair had more than a few grays in it, and in another year or so he knew he would likely need glasses to continue reading at night. He could smell his own sweat and he needed to shave and he felt simultaneously overcome with love and fear, looking at Silver with the baby. He felt human.

Over at the table, Annie looked up at Silver's grinning orange mouth, and laughed.

#black sails #black sails fic #silverflint #st. augustine is that way #hey look it's my suffering #fic prompt madness #i'm still working on these i promise #me: i'm depressed / brain: two men and a baby / me: why / brain: you gotta #karategirl448

87 notes · View notes

milesgonzalomorales · 7 years

Note

all of them

gwen what

chocolate: when was your first kiss?

My first what?

french vanilla: how old are you?

cotton candy: three places you want to travel to?

Yokohama, Australia and I’d like to go to India again, but for sightseeing this time

strawberry: a language you wish you could speak?

Japanese (not because I want to watch anime without subtitles)

coffee: favorite cosmetic brands?

I don’t wear makeup

mint chocolate chip: indoors or outdoors?

Indoors

cookie dough: do you play any instruments?

Already answered

rocky road: favorite songs at the moment?

Fighter by Bump of Chicken, Yuri on Ice, The Battle of Concepts, Hikare Are

butter pecan: favorite songs for life?

Sugar Song to Bitter Step, anything from the znt or ylia OST, Regrets of the Dead from Death Parade and Bruno Mars Marry You

cheesecake: what's your zodiac sign?

pisces

toasted coconut: the beach or the pool?

Pool, I HATE the feeling of sand in between my toes

chocolate chip: what's your most popular post?

It’s an Attack on Ti/tan post, that’s all I know.

bubblegum: books or movies?

Books

pistachio: manga or anime?

It honestly depends? I’ve seen some amazing anime, but the manga didn’t do the series justice (i.e Kill la Kill, Your Lie in April, Steins;Gate, there are probably more) and vice versa, there are manga that have been phenomenal but have had awful anime adaptations *glances at s2 of bs/d*

salted caramel: favorite movies?

The Three Idiots, Bhagam Bhag, Coraline, Thoda Pyaar Thoda Magic, Om Shanti Om and Kuch Kuch Hota Hai

birthday cake: favorite books?

TOO MANY TO COUNT, but a few that come to mind are Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, George Eliot’s Middlemarch, Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray, Osamu Dazai’s No Longer Human, Leigh Bardugo’s Six of Crows, Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events (The Austere Academy or The Ersatz Elevator is my favourite) and Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere.

moose tracks: favorites for manga?

Bungou Stray Dogs, Death Note, One Punch Man, A SILENT VOICE, Pandora Hearts, No. 6 and anything by Inio Asano.

orange sherbet: favorites for anime?

This list would be pretty long if I listed all my favourites, but a few really good ones that come to mind are Bungou Stray Dogs, Flip Flappers, Mob Psycho 100, Zankyou no Terror, Gekkan Shojo Nozaki-kun, Yuri on Ice, Orange (both the anime and the manga are amazing), Osomatsu-san and Steins;Gate. Also, Haikyuu. I know people might write it off as just another sports anime, but it’s really managed to touch me.

peanut butter: favorite academic subject?

Either English, History or Political Science

black raspberry: do you have any pets?

No, I wish I did.

mango: when and why did you start your blog?

I started it to kind of keep fandom stuff in one place, but that didn’t work out too well.

mocha: ideal weather conditions?

Spring weather, so there will be a chill in the air, but no snow on the ground.

black cherry: four words that describe you?

Stupid, ugly, loser, trash

neapolitan: things that stress you out?

Public transit, the future of America, in class exams, the United States leaving the UN, Kunikida Doppo not getting the happiness he deserves

raspberry truffle: favorite kind of music?

anime osts basically

chocolate marshmallow: favorite brands of candy?

Dairy Milk, Lindt, Hershey, and I also love Skittles. Except for purple skittles. They taste gross.

toffee: a card game that you're good at?

There was that one card game, I think it was called President. I was pretty good at that.

lemon custard: do you eat breakfast?

Yeah, don’t skip breakfast kids.

dark chocolate: turn ons?

A good sense of humour, willing to listen to me talk even if you don’t know what I’m talking about, generally being a down to earth person.

fudge: turn offs?

I really hate rude people??? The ones who shit on other people’s excitement??? Also people who can’t empathize with other people and also people who use words like gay with a negative connotation. Hate them.

peach: how do you relax?

Usually I relax by just doodling, reading, taking warm baths, listening to music and talking with my sisters.

praline: a popular book you haven't read yet?

Throne of Glass by Sarah J Mass, @rhyesand keeps telling me that I NEED to read it, but I have no time to read for fun now. Also I need to finish Crooked Kingdom, I’m only a page in.

superman: do you like sweaters?

YES

cherry: do you drink tea or coffee?

None

dulce de leche: an instrument you wish you could play?

I’ve always wanted to learn to play the piano or violin.

blackberry: have you ever laughed so hard you cried?

Did you mean the Nanalan video?

ginger: a new feature you wish tumblr could have?

A feature that lets you punch a Nazi

blueberry lemon: favorite blogs?

In no particular order, @pengwenno, @acetrainergalaxy, @moneera-87, @johayna-the-memer, @empathique

almond: favorite mean girls quote?

You go Glen Coco!

butterscotch: what color are your nails right now?

Not wearing nail polish, I don’t like it

cinnamon: have you ever been confessed to?

Yeah? Kind of? It’s like those jokes where people are like “Oh you should confess to the ugliest girl” and surprise surprise, that was me.

blue moon: have you ever had a crush on someone?

Yup.

cappuccino crunch: do you take naps?

Unless I’m sick, no.

mint: the most embarrassing thing you've ever done?

*inhales* bOI

brownie batter: do you like sushi?

I like Atsushi (but I’ve never tried sushi)

key lime: where do you want to be right now?

ngl, I kind of want to be on campus at uni, it’s become a second home for mered velvet: do you wear prescription glasses?

Yup.

green tea: favorite flavors of ice cream?

Chocolate Peanut Butter, Mint Chocolate Chip, Butterscotch Sundae, Cotton Candy, but a lot of the asks sound interesting

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lvory · 7 years

Text

A Dance of Ice and Fire

Genre: Fantasy, AU, Action

Rating: T

Pairing: 2min

Warnings: mild violence

WC: 5,444

GoT!au in which Taemin, accompanied by the now-freed slave, Jonghyun, comes face to face with the King of the North. Although their goal is the same—to dethrone the Lannisters—mistrust and betrayal threatens to end the meeting in violence.

“Tell me again why I agreed to this,” Taemin muttered, casting a hard glare in Jonghyun’s direction. To his credit, the other man didn’t flinch under the scrutiny, but merely grinned amiably at Taemin as he stepped up beside him.

“Because we need allies if you want to win this war,” Jonghyun said, voice soft and even as he turned his gaze out over the stretch of open plain before them. They’d been standing out in the biting wind and frigid air for several hours now, and the growing wait was starting to wear on Taemin’s nerves. In an effort to remain strong for his men, however, he’d suppressed the complaints building up behind his teeth and settled for glaring at the horizon as if that might make his company arrive faster.

It hadn’t, and he’d finally lost the waning patience holding his temper back.

“To make me wait this long is an offense,” Taemin bit out, though truthfully he was more concerned with the state of his men than he was with himself. He’d had around fifty of his Dothraki riders accompany him on the off-chance this meeting went sour, but their thin clothes did little to shield them from the weather. None had so much as whispered a complaint, but Taemin was feeling contemptuous on their behalf.

“It was a long way to travel for both of us,” Jonghyun said, though the way his eyes softened let Taemin know he was aware of the real reason behind his discontent. How they’d gotten so close so quickly was a mystery to Taemin, but now he trusted the older man with his life and maybe even with the name of Targaryen itself. “Look, no offense done.”

Jonghyun nodded towards the distance and Taemin followed his gaze, thoughts aligning once again at the sight of several dozen men on horseback cresting the hill. A flag bearer followed and his eyes fixed immediately on the gray wolf’s head rippling viciously in the wind.

“So,” Taemin said, attention drawn from the embroidered wolf head to a giant, real wolf with midnight fur, trotting faithfully alongside a white horse. “That’s the King of the North.”

Mounted atop the horse was a man with ebony black hair, broad shoulders, and clothes that seemed to be lined with wolves’ fur. Taemin had to admit that the other man struck an impressive image, but he wasn’t one to be easily intimidated.

“Not what you were expecting?” Jonghyun asked, a note of teasing laughter in his voice. His composure settled quickly as the entourage drew near, however, posture straightening and head lifting, and Taemin quickly followed suit.

“He doesn’t look like much,” he said.

The Stark men continued to draw closer, and he took silent note of the sheathed swords and bows slung across backs. If it came to a fight, he was confident in his riders’ abilities to take them down quickly. He had to be.

When they were within shouting distance, Choi Minho pulled his horse to a halt and dismounted. Another shorter man did the same, and the two continued on foot. Taemin wasn’t too well-versed in the workings of the North, but he’d heard much about Choi Minho, former Stark heir and current King, and his ongoing fight against the Lannisters and their tyranny. Since the Targaryens and the Starks had little to fight over in terms of territory, they’d decided on this political gamble of an alliance. Minho would remain King of the North, and Taemin would take what was rightfully his: the Iron Throne in King’s Landing. At least, that was the plan. As Minho came to a stop in front of Taemin, impressive height making him seem all the bigger, he had to stamp down the suspicions whispering at the back of his mind that spoke of betrayal. Blind trust only got men killed, but he’d need a bit of it today if he hoped to seal this alliance.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. Choi Minho,” Minho greeted, extending a hand between them. “For a while I wondered if this was all just a trick, and yet here you are. A real Targaryen. I thought the last of you had been killed with the Mad King.”

For a moment Taemin tensed, affronted, but while Minho’s words were harsh his tone was warm, and a grin that seemed entirely too genuine was pulled across his face. He only hesitated for a second longer before clasping hands with him, returning a notably less genuine smile of his own.

“Lee Taemin. And I’m afraid not. The Free Cities are quite adept at housing exiles,” it was easy for Taemin to slip into the professionalism of his role, giving Minho’s hand a firm shake before dropping his arm back to his side. They’d gone to too great lengths to set this meeting up and he wasn’t about to ruin it.

“The Free Cities, huh? Well I can’t complain too much since you’re willing to help us out with the Lannisters. Let the past remain the past, and hopefully we can make the future a little more bearable.”

It was almost unbearable how brightly Minho seemed to be smiling at him, but he was impressed with the Stark for now. “Hopefully today can be the first step towards that future.”

He didn’t trust him yet, not even slightly, but the warmth that seemed to pour off him in waves and the genuine resolve in his eyes looked a lot like hope to Taemin. Hope that maybe this would work out after all, and that with the help of the North he’d finally be able to win back what belonged to him, and unite the Seven Kingdoms under his rule.

“Ah,” Minho clapped his hands together before turning to the man flanking his right. “This is Lee Jinki, my brother.”

Jinki nodded at them in acknowledgement but otherwise remained silent. In opposition to his brother’s dark black hair, Jinki’s was more a sunset brown, and the seemingly permanent grin on Minho’s face was rivaled by the guarded expression on Jinki’s. Taemin didn’t fail to notice the way his hand remained settled on the hilt of the dagger at his side, or the way his eyes seemed to drill into him as if attempting to unearth any hidden motives. He looked older than Minho, though not by much. The fact that Minho was King of the North and not Jinki, along with his mismatched name, implied that the older man was a bastard child and thus unfit to rule.

With Taemin’s continued silence Minho’s gaze steadily went cold, as if expecting him to say something bad about Jinki.

Instead, Taemin inclined his head in return and gestured to Jonghyun who remained a comforting presence at his side. “This is Kim Jonghyun, my… right-hand.” Truthfully, it was hard to describe what exactly Jonghyun was. His translator. His attendant. His friend. His right-hand seemed about right, and the description seemed to catch even Jonghyun off guard for a moment.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Stark,” Jonghyun said, recovering quickly. He smiled as Minho nodded back at him, though his eyes slid towards Taemin after a moment. Catching on to his discomfort, Taemin directed the attention back to himself.

“So,” he started, waiting until Minho’s dark eyes were on him again. “Presuming we go through with this alliance, I would assist you in ending the violence and ensure your position in the North, and you would help me to reclaim the Iron Throne, correct?”

“Ideally, yes, but the Lannisters aren’t the most powerful House in the Seven Kingdoms for nothing. If it were that easy that would be great, but this war is going to be long and hard fought.”

“And you have no interest in the Iron Throne?” Taemin asked, voicing the suspicions lurking in the back of his mind. For a King to not desire the Iron Throne was rare and often a lie, as they waited for the opportune moment to strike down their allies and claim the throne for themselves.

Minho shook his head, expression serious, and something about the other man made Taemin want to believe him. “I don’t have any interest in that bloodstained throne. After the terror its wrought on my family… I just want the few of us left to live out full lives up here in the North. And besides, Shade would hate it in the Crown City,” Minho said, nodding off towards the trees at his left where his direwolf had been lying, watching them with piercing gold eyes.

Taemin was silent for a moment, contemplating. If he put his trust in the Starks, he had to be certain that it wouldn’t be putting his own people at risk in the long run. It sounded ideal, but if it ended up going wrong he could be putting them all in danger. On the other hand, if what Minho said was true and he really didn’t desire the Throne, this alliance could be exactly what he was looking for. As he deliberated, he found himself seeking out Jonghyun with his eyes.

As if aware of his internal struggle, Jonghyun’s eyes immediately locked with his own. They stayed like that for a moment, just watching each other silently, when an imperceptible nod from his friend had his mouth opening, ready to agree to the conditions.

Before the words could leave his lips, though, a strangle whistling sound pierced through the air. It took Taemin a moment to recognize it for what it was. An arrow. There was a shout of warning from the distance, but it came too late.

Eyes widening, gaze still locked on Jonghyun, he watched in what felt like slow motion as an arrow ripped through his friend’s chest and buried itself deep in his flesh.

Everyone stood frozen as his mouth formed a shocked ‘o’ of surprise, looking down at the shaft protruding from his chest like he couldn’t understand what it was. A trembling hand lifted slightly as if to touch it, mouth forming the ghost of Taemin’s name before his knees buckled beneath him.

Taemin erupted into motion then, and the world rushed into his ears again as he reached out and caught Jonghyun beneath the arms, sinking to the ground with him. People were yelling and shouting at one another, he could hear his own Dothraki riders yelling war cries and feel the thunder of their horses’ hooves as they charged forward, and yet he couldn’t see anything but the man in his arms.

“You’re gonna be okay, Jonghyun. You’re gonna be okay.” The phrase kept falling from his lips as his own shaking hands rose to hover uselessly over his chest. Afraid to touch.

Jonghyun’s mouth moved, but only tiny pained groans made their way out. Taemin didn’t know what to do, mind racing as the sound of blades clashing rang through the air.

Suddenly a balled up piece of cloth was shoved in front of his face, and he stared blankly until his brain registered the words being urgently spoken to him.

“ —wrap this around the shaft and apply pressure! If you pull it out he’ll die.”

Minho was crouching down next to him, shirtless now and only clothed in his outer fur coat. His shirt was currently being waved around in front of Taemin’s face, but when he realized that Taemin was going to be of no help he leaned over and pushed his hovering hands aside. With practiced motions, he wrapped the shirt around the base of the arrow shaft, where it disappeared into Jonghyun’s chest, and pressed down hard. Jonghyun gave a short cry of pain and Taemin immediately lashed out, pushing Minho away.

“Get away from him! This was a trap, you lured us here!” Taemin scrambled to his feet, murderous gaze set on Minho as he stepped in front of Jonghyun protectively. “I’ll kill you,” he whispered, advancing on the other man who lie sprawled on the ground where Taemin had pushed him.

He only managed a single step before a blade was being pressed to his throat, sharp edge biting into the skin of his neck, and Jinki’s warning voice spoke up from behind him.

“Take another step and I’ll cut your throat.”

“Jinki, stop!” Minho hastily got to his feet, holding a hand up to halt his brother. “Taemin, please just listen to me for a minute,” Minho pleaded.

Taemin didn’t want to listen. He didn’t wait to see if Jinki would comply. His patience was gone. All he could see was Jonghyun lying on the cold grass, dying.

He wanted them dead.

“Skahv!” He shouted, putting as much fury and pain as he could into the name. He watched the confused expression on Minho’s face morph slowly into one of both awe and fear as the answering roar of his dragon rang like thunder through the skies. He’d only brought Skahv with him on this excursion, but he only needed one dragon to kill every last person here.

The blade left his throat, and Jinki appeared at Minho’s side, both of them watching the skies as the sound of beating wings grew louder. Skahv wasn’t fully grown, but Taemin knew she was big enough to incite fear in even the noblest of Kings.

“Taemin, wait!” Minho pleaded again, sounding desperate as he took a step closer. “I didn’t lure you into a trap. The man who fired that arrow wasn’t with my men!”

“I’m not listening to your lies,” Taemin spat, dropping to his knees again to press at the makeshift cloth on Jonghyun’s chest.

“Just think for a second, dammit! Who would want this alliance to fall through the most?”

He didn’t want to listen to anything the Stark had to say, but even in his rage he had to admit that the words made sense. An alliance between the Starks and the Targaryens would be worrying news for anyone, even the powerful Lannisters.

“Or maybe you wanted to call us out here, into the North, so you could kill us yourself!” Taemin shot back, unwilling to trust the other man. “Our families have a history of violence, maybe I was stupid to think you would be any different!”

“Why would I want you dead? This alliance is the best chance I have!” Minho was desperate, expression raw and real as he stared Taemin down. “And if I really did want you dead don’t you think I would have aimed for you and not your friend? There was a Lannister spy! They want this to fall apart and for the two of us to kill each other!”

The wind whipped and tore at the fur coat around Minho’s shoulders. Taemin took in his shirtless chest, his muscled skin marred with faded scars, and looked back at the crumpled shirt tied around Jonghyun’s wound.

“Why would I help your friend?” Minho continued, gaze flitting between Taemin and the sky above them. “It wasn’t my men, Taemin. I wouldn’t do this.”

Minho stopped then, and Taemin could hear the fearful shouts of the Stark men as a gust of wind burst against his back. Skahv alighted on the ground behind him, letting out another massive roar that had Minho taking a step back and the sounds of combat halting.

He could give the command. Dracarys. He could watch them burn and die. And then he’d watch Jonghyun die, caught out too far from home with a wound too bad to be tended to without a healer. Or he could put his trust in the Starks, in Minho, in his words. And they might just make it to a town in the North in time to save Jonghyun.

He didn’t have the time to be indecisive.

“Okay,” he said. “I trust you.” His eyes found Minho’s, trying to convey the truth of his words through his gaze. He was going to trust Minho, and pray to the gods that he wasn’t making the worst decision of his life.

Minho exhaled in relief, tension draining from his limbs and a faint smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “Thank you.”

“A town,” Taemin said then, urgency and fear starting to bleed into his tone, hands tightening in the bloody fabric wrapped around Jonghyun’s wound. He’d fallen unconscious by now, and breathing suddenly felt a lot harder. There wasn’t any time left. “Where’s the nearest town? I need- he needs- help. Please.”

Minho was silent for several seconds. Taemin couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t lose Jonghyun. “Costlemark. It’s the closest but it’s still a few hours ride away,” he finally said.

“I’ll fly,” Taemin said, turning to Skahv and carefully lifting Jonghyun into his arms. She could carry the two of them easily.

“Fly? You’re going to fly, on a dragon, into a Northern town alone? They’ll kill you, I need to be there with you. I’ll explain it to them. It’s the only way, Taemin.”

“Then get on,” Taemin said, unwilling to waste any more time as he lifted Jonghyun onto Skahv’s back and climbed up behind him. With or without the Stark, Taemin was leaving. He ignored the fact that he had no idea where Costlemark was, the urgency rushing through his veins making him too restless to care.

“Minho,” Jinki warned, putting a hand on his shoulder, but Minho merely waved him off. He seemed surprised at the offer, but he was obviously dedicated in helping them as he only hesitated slightly before moving to climb up behind Taemin. There was almost an eagerness to his movements, though Taemin couldn’t really blame him. Riding a dragon was like nothing else on the earth.

“Jinki, I leave you in charge of our men. Lead them to Costlemark and find me when you get there,” Minho commanded, tone authoritative and leaving no room for argument. Jinki looked worried, watching silently as Minho situated himself at Taemin’s back before pinning Taemin with a distrustful glare. A beat passed and Taemin almost thought he would refuse, but he simply huffed and spun on his heels, marching back to the waiting troops.

“Hazak Stark akkelenak elat ayolat arrekaan assokh,” Taemin said, directing his words to his riders who grumbled among themselves but nodded assent. “Ready?” He directed his words at Minho now, but didn’t wait for a reply before he was urging Skahv into motion.

Her wings unfurled and she beat them once, twice, three times before they were lifting off the ground. Arms immediately wound around his waist as they ascended into the sky, Minho’s startled gasp sounding next to his ear.

“Which direction?” Taemin asked, tightening his own arms around Jonghyun’s slumped form. When only silence met his ears, he turned slightly to look over his shoulder. Minho was staring transfixed as the ground grew smaller beneath them, eyes blown wide and mouth open in surprise. “Minho? Which direction is Costlemark?”

The taller man seemed to snap into awareness again, blinking several times in quick succession against the stinging wind. “It’s that way,” he pointed off towards the east, and Skahv angled herself in that direction without prompting.

“Okay. You’re gonna be okay,” Taemin whispered into Jonghyun’s hair, hoping with all his heart that he was right.

Costlemark was an old town built on the top of a cliff, gray stone towers jutting up towards the sky like the horns of a giant beast. It appeared to be built around an old castle, tiny huts and houses cropping up around the crumbling stone building. A heavy fog clung to the air, and Minho’s muted voice noted that the fog never seemed to dissipate entirely. Apparently it used to be a watchtower and a military stronghold, but during the war it was torn down and never rebuilt.

All throughout the flight Minho’s voice never stopped, and for the entire hour they spent in the air he was either piping up with facts about the area or marveling at how incredible it was to be flying. It didn’t seem to bother him that Taemin didn’t respond, or maybe it was just the nerves that kept his mouth running. Despite his constant chatter, Taemin couldn’t bring himself to find the Stark annoying. He could feel his bare chest pressed up against his back, chin nearly resting on Taemin’s shoulder, but he allowed the contact for now. When he’d decided to trust the Stark he’d meant it, and trust meant believing that a knife wouldn’t end up in his spine if Minho got too close.

As soon as Skahv landed outside the gates of Costlemark, Minho was immediately jumping off, demeanor suddenly losing the childlike wonder in favor of adopting that of a Kings. Taemin couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed as he left, taking with him the heat of his body and allowing the chill of the North to seep through his clothes again.

Taemin took longer to dismount, making sure that he didn’t jostle Jonghyun too much as he pulled him down and lifted him into his arms again. They were getting sore and tired now, but he grit his teeth and tightened his grip against the strain. Jonghyun was still breathing, but he was losing too much blood and Taemin was beginning to feel frantic. With a single-minded determination he set out after Minho.

As he neared the gate he could see the Stark’s tall form engaged in an animated conversation with a group of armored soldiers. They kept leaning over to peer out into the fog, no doubt trying to catch a glimpse of Skahv. One of them must have noticed him trudging closer, because soon the whole group was staring right at him, nudging each other and whispering among themselves.

Minho turned around then, and after taking in Taemin’s struggling form he took quick strides towards him.

“Let me carry him,” he said as he approached. “I’ve talked to the guards and they’ll let you in. They were hesitant at first, but they can’t disobey me. Golba is the healer in this town, let’s go.”

Without giving Taemin time to protest, he scooped Jonghyun up from his arms and took off towards the town, setting a pace so quick Taemin had to jog to keep up. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was grateful to Minho for carrying his friend. The strain was starting to slow him down, and they didn’t have any more time to waste.

“Golba?” He questioned. “You know them?”

As they passed through the gates it didn’t escape his notice how the guards all turned to stare, some of them pointing at his silver-white hair in awe. He’d agreed to trust Minho, but he wasn’t about to trust any other Northerner. I can’t drop my guard here, he reminded himself, mouth set in a grim line.

“I do. I’ve been down here a few times before. Golba helped me out when I took a sword to the thigh, you can trust her.”

Heat quickly rose to his cheeks in embarrassment. He hadn’t meant to make his distrust so obvious. “It’s not that I don’t trust her. Or you. I just need to know she can help Jonghyun.”

“She can,” Minho assured, turning them down an alley.

The town wasn’t much, if Taemin was being honest. The roads were mostly mud, and a dampness hung in the air that made it humid and sticky. A few people were walking the streets, though the late hour ensured most of the population was already locked away inside for the night. The houses themselves were shoddy, hanging low to the ground like gravity was pressing them into the earth. It didn’t look sanitary, but Taemin had to remind himself that he’d chosen to trust Minho.

“Here,” Minho said, stopping outside a wooden door that looked halfway to rotting off. To say Taemin was skeptical would be an understatement, but with no other options left he resolved himself to giving the woman a chance. With Minho’s hands full, Taemin stepped forward to slam his fist into the wood himself, mildly surprised when it held under the force of his knocks.

“Golba!” Minho yelled, making Taemin flinch and cast a wary glance down the alley. He didn’t want anyone else knowing they were there if they could help it. “It’s me, Minho! Let us in!”

Several seconds passed in silence, and Taemin found his eyes returning to Jonghyun’s unconscious form. His foot started to tap nervously at the ground as he took in the unnatural paleness of his friend’s face, arms crossing over his chest and teeth worrying at his lip.

Finally a lock shifted behind the door, drawing his attention back towards it as it swung open. An elderly woman was peering out at them, face deeply set with wrinkles and wispy gray hair that hung low over her ears. Twin brown eyes sat atop thin cheeks, staring intently at Taemin before landing on Minho.

“Minho, my boy, what are you doing here with a Targaryen?” Her eyes traced over the limp form of Jonghyun clutched in his arms, though she said nothing else.

“He’s a friend, Golba,” Minho said, startling Taemin. Friend? They barely knew each other. “Please help us.”

She turned towards Taemin again, giving him a look that had his nerves kicking up, walls slamming down to hide any emotion that might have been visible in his expression. A sense of dislike seemed to radiate off of the old woman as she looked at him, a feeling that Taemin wasn’t unfamiliar with. If she didn’t agree to help them he didn’t know what he’d do.

“I’ll stay outside, if you prefer.” Every instinct in his body screamed at him not to leave Jonghyun alone with her, but he bit his tongue and forced the words out. Even if she disliked him, he was hoping that she’d agree to help Jonghyun at least.

“Golba, please,” Minho added.

She looked at Minho again, gaze softening. “Come in,” she finally relented, opening the door wide as she turned back inside. “All of you.”

Not willing to press his luck any further, Taemin said nothing as he followed after Minho into the house.

The interior wasn’t much cleaner than the exterior, he noted critically. Narrowed eyes took in the various shelves lining the walls, stopping over the dusty jars of colored liquid. A fur rug lie crooked across the floor, loosely parallel to a tiny bed crammed into the corner of the room. A cot was pressed up against the opposite wall, and Minho headed straight towards it, lying Jonghyun gently down on top of it.

“What happened?” Golba asked, crowding into Minho’s space in an effort to take a closer look at Jonghyun.

“He was shot with an arrow,” Minho answered.

“I can see that. I asked what happened,” Golba prodded lightly at the bloodstained shirt, moving it carefully out of the way to closer inspect the wound.

“A Lannister spy,” Taemin spoke up. The words felt brittle on his tongue.

Minho shot him a grateful look that Taemin met with a neutral one of his own.

Golba didn’t respond verbally, humming quietly to herself instead. He watched as her hunched form shuffled off towards one of the shelves in the corner and retrieved a thin dagger. Immediately, Taemin was on alert and prepared to fight. His eyes darted between Golba and Jonghyun, mind already racing with escape plans. She was an old woman, he could take her down easily, it was Minho who might give him problems—

“Here, let me do it,” Minho said, catching on to the palpable tension suddenly freezing Taemin in place. He pulled the dagger from Golba’s wrinkled hands and Taemin tracked the movement, muscles tense and ready to act. “We’re just going to remove his shirt. Trust me?”

His gaze moved slowly from the dagger in Minho’s hand to his dark eyes, staring silently. His tongue felt dry and twisted in his mouth, itching to spit in the Stark’s face and shout that he’d never trust any of them.

The rational part of his mind reminded him that Minho could have killed Jonghyun a lot sooner, or tried to push them both from Skahv’s back, or turned him over to the guards at the gate.

He nodded jerkily.

“Okay,” Minho said. “Okay. I’m going to cut his shirt off now.”

Taemin stood rooted to the ground, muscles locked, watching in apprehension as the dagger lowered over Jonghyun’s prone form. Golba assessed him silently, clucking her tongue in disapproval before turning to retrieve several bottles and items.

True to his word, Minho did nothing but carefully slide the dagger through the fabric of Jonghyun’s shirt, cutting it away from his body to leave him shirtless on the cot. I’m the only one wearing a shirt now. The thought entered into his mind sudden and unbidden, bringing hysterical laughter bubbling up his throat to burst like vomit from his lips before he could stop himself.

Once he’d started he found he couldn’t stop, laughter doubling him over and quickly stealing his breath, leaving him gasping in between bursts. Minho shot him a sharp look, finishing his task quickly before muttering something to Golba and hastily approaching him.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing onto Taemin’s arm and pulling at him. He was trying to drag him from the room, and suddenly Taemin was shouting. He didn’t even know what he was saying, he just knew that he couldn’t leave Jonghyun and how dare Minho try to make him.

Minho didn’t relent, instead pulling harder and forcefully dragging Taemin with him.

“Let go!” Taemin shouted, beating his free fist against Minho’s back and kicking at his legs.

It wasn’t until they were outside and halfway down the muddy alley that Minho let him go. When he made to turn and go back inside, Minho gripped him by the shoulders and spun him around, latching his hands onto Taemin’s upper arms to hold him in place. “Taemin, calm down!”

“Let me go! I’m fine!” Taemin struggled to free himself, but Minho’s grip was like iron against his skin.

“No you’re not. You’re freaking out right now. Jonghyun is going to be fine, okay? Golba can help him.” Minho was infuriatingly close, voice calm and attempting to soothe him.

“You don’t know that!” Taemin spat back. “You don’t know anything!”

“I do, Taemin. She got me through a wound that should have killed me, she can help your friend. But you need to calm down first. Please.”

Ragged breaths seesawed through his lungs, feeling almost painful as he inhaled desperately. He forced himself to take in the words that Minho was telling him. Jonghyun was going to be fine. He was going to make it.

“It’s okay now. We made it,” Minho said softly, dropping his grip on Taemin’s arms.

It’s okay now, he repeated to himself. Jonghyun was going to be okay. Golba was going to help him. They weren’t too late. He’d never have to lose anyone important to him again.

As he felt himself growing more stable, embarrassment immediately flooded his veins. He couldn’t believed he’d just freaked out in front of the Stark. Averting his gaze, he coughed quietly to clear his throat.

“Come on, Golba has a back room. You need some sleep.”

Taemin’s first instinct was to refuse, to demand that he stay up while Golba worked so he could make sure that everything went alright. Trust, he reminded himself.

“Okay,” he said instead, voice subdued. He’d been ignoring it, but exhaustion had been pulling at his limbs for a while now.

He was quiet as Minho led him back into the house. Golba didn’t look up as they entered, hunched over Jonghyun and working diligently. He wanted to thank her, or apologize, but the words caught in his throat and he swallowed them back down.

Minho led them to a door off in the back of the house, opening it to reveal a tiny room with two additional beds. “For more patients,” he elaborated as he stepped inside. Taemin nodded, taking in the sparsely furnished room. He could feel his mind starting to race again, so he flopped down onto the first bed he came across and smothered his face in the pillow. It smelled faintly of disease and sickness, but despite that he found himself drifting in a matter of minutes.

The other bed creaked as Minho laid down. He said something to him, but Taemin couldn’t make out the words with the way they echoed as if spoken from inside a tunnel. In the next moment he was asleep, mind blissfully quiet.

#writing #fanfic #shinee fanfic #2min #shinee #g: au #au: got #5k and up

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32flavasshoetique · 4 years

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Bruno, the International Guy of Honour

Bruno, a taking a trip buddy coming from S & atilde; o Paulo I complied within a Bolivian hotel a few years back, kindly agreed to be my kum (best man) as he had actually planned to become in Eastern Europe concurrently.

Brazilians are a fairly uncommon event in Serbia beyond telecasted sporting activities, whichperhaps discusses why my brand-new household was thus stunned when he got here bearing zero similarity to Ronaldinho. Tall, charming, multilingual, and also along withtelenovela excellent appeals, Bruno included smiles as well as a few blushes on the surface of my women in-laws while generating a quick enhancement of their efficiency in English.

Bruno to me feels like Pippa to Kate, an unpleasant surprise scene-stealer in the large moment. My relative, no doubt also influenced by the delight in England only months previously, helped make the analogue also clearer throughenlisting 4 bloom females to follow our team in the wedding ceremony.

The bachelorette

Pre- wedding event celebrations in Serbia are drastically different coming from the NorthUnited States strike of engagement events, wedding downpours, bachelorettes, day spa days, and hair and also makeup trials. There is actually little bit of doting over brides in the days anticipating (or even the day of) the wedding celebration.

After a number of days of challenging drinking and dance in Belgrade’ s numerous pubs, coffee shops, and splavs (floating clubs), I discovered on my own on my last day of singledom partaking a small café along withmy sister-in-law, Aleksandra. Chain-smoking and also pummeling back vodka, she supplied me a few terms of Serbian-style inspiration:

” Are you nervous for tomorrow?”

“.

” No. Merely excited. ”

” You should be nervous, being a bride-to-be. Everyone watching your every move, criticizing your every defect. Trust me. It is nerve-racking.”

The crowning moment

I urged that the wedding event occur in Belgrade’ s Saborna Crkva, the basilica throughwhichSerbian Master Peter was actually crowned in 1904. The Saborna is located effortlessly in the Stari Grad, or old area of Belgrade, a cobblestoned location widespread withphoto chances.

The cathedral is actually simple outside; a gray, classically styled outside perverts a luxurious display of oil-painted iconography and Complex greatness on the inside.

My princess-excitement reached full steam as the chanting priest crowned me and we walked around the sanctuary, my train floating happily at the back of. I had no concept what the hell the choir was singing or even what the Orthodox priest was inquiring me, however I really felt pretty incredible along witha big-ass crown on my head.

Ain’ t no event like a Belgrade gathering

The function took place at a bistro in Zemun, a historical location of Belgrade positioned on the Danube River. Withits huge windows experiencing the river, the dining room required little bit of else however an archof white colored florals and simple main features to develop a cheery scene.

This carries me to yet another distinction in between N. American as well as Serbian wedding practices: missing is actually the profane ” as soon as in a life time ” money-spending on tabletop design, vintage-inspired Etsy discovers, exquisite hors d’ oeurves, photobooths, and also celebratory take-home junk for visitors.

There aren’ t even any sort of pep talks, embarrassing garter belt extractions, or even ” gain the main feature” ” activities. Somewhat, the characteristics of solid serbian brides wedding receptions are meat laden plates, challenging alcohol consumption quickly complying withthe service, the kolo (memorable dance in rounded formation), and also rambunctious Gypsy metal bands.

I was actually on-the-floor drunk by the opportunity the cake got there, two big firecrackers blazing out of its own sides.

The kolo dance and drinking began long before dinner was actually provided, and proceeded relentlessly throughout the supper solution. I was on-the-floor drunk due to the time the birthday cake got there, pair of giant firecrackers blazing away from its own edges. My footwear and also artificial lashes vanished due to the opportunity the Gypsies showed up along withtheir heralds.

I danced on an office chair in an incredibly un-princess-bride-like manner as the live band performed ABBA deals with. The Wonder Bra I acquired at Victoria’ s Top secret put daringly out of my dance dress, whichI regularly readjusted like a senior prom queen.

As the final attendees left, Bruno as well as I drank gin and also swapped intoxicated Spanishdiscussion & iquest; Donde están mis pantalones? & iquest; Donde está mi bicicleta? Packed down withbags of leftover pie and also pork, our experts were driven back to my other half’ s loved ones ‘ s apartment in downtown Belgrade.

The after-effects

I was determined to join the after celebration on the streets of Belgrade along withBruno and also Aleksandra but passed out in a drunken amazement as an alternative. Zdravko, extremely sharp and also clean, did his first husbandly responsibility by wiping away the bulky coat of make-up on my face.

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