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ilkkawhat · 3 years

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to fall on deaf ears

[prompted by myself, using "I never ask for help because I'm not sure I know how." + "It's alright to feel broken every once and a while. And it's alright to take time to heal." off of that prompts list to expand on a vague idea I got from a dream a few months ago. read on ao3 here or continue below]

“If you got a callout tomorrow to the restaurant where you got shot and Officer Clark died, could you focus?”

He pretends that it’s just like any other restaurant that serves them up a crime scene. He ignores that even while the name of the restaurant had changed, just as he had changed his exterior style with a buzzed head, the insides were still the same. There’s still the slits of warm, golden yellow light lining the walls, radiating a gentle glow to add to the elegant, intimate atmosphere.

There’s still the brick tunnel that’s overlit with fluorescence, a segue into the kitchen where it all started.

Where it all went so horribly wrong.

He can still see the pool of blood seeping down the corridor. Spreading to the walls under an imposing shadow answering his desperate calls that fall on dead ears.

He can still smell the gunpowder.

“Could you be there for your team?”

Sara puts a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him. She gives him a look and he shrugs her off, eyes fluttering and plastering on a smile to indicate he’s fine.

He gets to work.

“Would you want you backing you up right now?”

He thinks he’s okay, just one step at a time. One breath at a time. There’s no more threat, the restaurant has been cleared so they can investigate the body lying motionless on the floor.

A body lying in a pool of blood. Arms spread, eyes closed.

A discarded weapon just out of reach.

A body that doesn’t just look like him…

It is him.

A shaky laugh mingles with a sharp breath, shaking his head in disbelief, he thinks about pinching himself because he must be dreaming, he’ll wake up in just a minute and get his assignment to an unrelated case that doesn’t have his name written anywhere except for his signature on the field report.

But even as he falls to the floor out of a reflex—the same reflex he had in a house of a hoarder—when there’s a loud crash from the kitchen that sounds not completely, but still close enough to a gunshot, he realizes this isn’t a dream.

It’s a waking nightmare.

“Nick!” Sara calls, reaching out her arms after Nick immediately backs away, shielding his shot arm with his other. An embarrassing whimper mixes with his cry—his plea of “No!” and Sara eventually gives up as he huddles himself under a table, a small table that would seat a couple on a date that he then knocks over to protect himself with the same barricade that Ray and Papa—the real target of the mad doctor who viewed Nick as nothing but a nuisance in his way, and treated him as such when he shot him without any sort of hesitation or bargaining or empty threat of telling him to back off—which he wouldn’t have done anyway, of course, but perhaps in hindsight, in another dimension, perhaps he would find himself behind the safety of the table. Perhaps he would have been able to fire a few more shots to incapacitate the serial killer.

“Nick—” Sara starts again.

“Get down!” Nick warns her, because there’s a shadow approaching from the kitchen—he readies his gun—his finger on the trigger—

“Nick, no!”

Sara bats the gun out of Nick’s hand, but the damage is done. A shot is fired, and it’s fortunately a miss, lodging its way into the cemented wall of bricks, engulfed in the shadow cast by one of the stationed uniforms meant to babysit the CSIs as they conduct their investigation.

“Jesus Christ, Stokes! What, did you think I was a ghost or something?” the officer sneers with a red face, and Sara shoots the man a sharp glare before placing herself in front of Nick.

Any words he may have had to bite back were lost anyway to his hyperventilation, still trapped in the morbidly vivid flashback of the shooting. Clark’s shooting. His shooting.

This wasn’t just any restaurant.

This is where he was shot.

And this is where Nick Stokes almost died.

That’s his reasoning for his unfortunate reaction to what he thought was a real threat, but just as before, his call falls on deaf ears and he’s exiled from the restaurant and stripped of his defenses.

Catherine soon rolls up with the coroner, having been called immediately. Their eyes only just meet as she gets an earful from Brass, who is ranting on about how she should have known better than to send Nick there, especially not after what had happened.

Nick did have to wonder if this was some spiteful attempt to show him that no, he’s not fine. That he needs to go back to therapy. That he has a twisted definition of recovery to the point where he thinks he’s already recovered when really, there’s still blood on his hands and a hole dangerously close to his heart.

And to make matters somehow even worse, the next scene he’s sent to after a brief suspension that’s sugar coated as “mandatory vacation,” is with the good doctor himself, and across the street from the Clark family.

They are among the prying bystanders that flock the perimeter of the crime scene tape. He approaches them, because he feels they are owed an explanation, not just for the horrors that happened on their street, but for the horrors of the past that he never got a chance to testify to. Not to them, at least. They didn’t want to hear him.

And unsurprisingly, they don’t want to hear him now either.

The children hug around their mother, and Clark’s widowed wife spits in Nick’s face before he can even open his mouth. The nearby uniforms don’t stop try to stop the commotion, as murmurs through the crowd then break out, “is that the CSI that killed Clark?”

He knows they wouldn’t listen to the truth even if he told them.

He nods as respectfully as he can, before turning away and coiling his fist as he walks back towards Ray.

“You okay?” Ray asks in a careful voice.

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” Nick shakes off.

“That was Officer Clark’s family, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah...Ye—” Nick stops mid sentence, losing his breath and his face contorts into a reluctant cry that he pushes back down into his chest, pressurizing the pulsing wound that stings near his heart. He shakes his head and keeps walking, not allowing himself to break down in front of his esteemed colleague, let alone the general public.

He’ll hold it in, as he always does, until he’s safe in the privacy of his own home.

But as he’ll soon come to find out, that privacy is just as much of a facade as the bravado he continues to put on in order to do his job.

So instead, he settles for the brief moments of privacy he gets in the locker room, which has always acted as a sort of sanctuary for him, dating back to his days on the football field in high school, or the baseball field in college. The time to reflect after a long and grueling game, the adrenaline having sweated out of his body and he gets a moment to think to himself before he has to either celebrate a win or mourn a loss with the rest of the team. The rest of his family.

The time to gather himself before he goes to a home that’s not a true home.

It’s a broken one.

A home where monsters spy on him. Where demons attack him.

Where he can’t sleep without fearing that the wrong move will blow it all up.

“Nicky?”

He lifts his head, and drops the shirt that he was holding in his hands.

“Were...you listening to anything I just said?” Catherine asks in a slow voice.

“Yuh-huh,” Nick smiles as he picks up the shirt, quickly putting it on to cover the scars that seem to scream out of his skin.

He hopes that she doesn’t pick it up too, and realize that it’s the same shirt he wore the day Warrick died.

“You seemed like you got lost for a minute,” she smiles sweetly at him, scratching the top of his head. “What’s the matter?”

“What do you mean? Nothing’s the matter.”

“Nick. I’ve known you for over eleven years now,” Catherine sighs. “You may look like you have a healthy body, but that tired look in your eyes tells me...you don’t have a healthy mind.”

He meets her eyes, glistening with the same softness that his mother had on the night that she came home to find him sitting in the dark.

And for once, he tells the truth in a call that falls on listening ears.

“I never ask for help because I’m not sure I know how,” Nick admits, his eyes still transfixed on the shaking hands in front of him. “I just...I still feel so...so…”

Broken.

Catherine sits down next to Nick, taking one of his fidgeting hands and curling her fingers between his. She wraps her other arm around his shoulder, hugs him tight to her body.

“It’s alright to feel broken every once and a while,” she tells him. “And it’s alright to take time to heal.”

Nick nods silently, his lips quivering as he tries to stop the flood of tears by shutting his eyelids, but one still rolls down his cheek on the side of his face and onto the hand that’s holding him.

“And you will heal,” she assures him. “I promise.”

He hasn’t healed from the shooting, no matter how much he pretends that it didn’t affect him.

The ghost of Officer Clark still haunts him, as well as the souls he’s taken by his own bullets.

He hasn’t healed from being buried alive almost six years ago, his newfound claustrophobia and aversion to fire ants in particular conflicting with the longing for solitude and his new passion for entomology.

He still hears Walter Gordon’s voice telling him what’s going to happen every time he’s trapped by a green light.

Even though it was a long time ago, he hasn’t healed from the slow burning terror of being stalked. Before he moved out of the house, he would slowly discover things that Crane had moved, altered or even taken from him.

Yet he still has one of his jackets that Crane had “graciously” picked up from the dry cleaner’s.

And he’s definitely had plenty of guns shoved in his face, and with every new barrel he stares down he feels himself transforming into something hard, something that will take a lot more to damage—but he still hasn’t healed from that very first time outside of the training field.

He wonders, if Holly Gribbs hadn’t died, would he have died in her place?

“It just feels like I never will,” his voice, fully warbled in a sob that tangles his throat. “I-I haven’t f-for years.”

And he will never heal from the childhood trauma that he’s done everything he could to drown with repression, only for it to resurface with the same ease as a beach ball floating in water. Following him. Bumping into him, reminding him of what happened that night and what was taken from him.

“You will, Nicky. You most definitely will. And I’ll be here, we’ll all be here for you until you do.”

She cups his head to her chest and lets him release the tangled web that’s ensnared him, only letting him go when he feels he’s ready, and helps him stand back up and take his first step into a full recovery.

#csi fic #nick stokes #catherine willows #sara sidle #ray langston #csi 10x23 #mk.fic #mk.op #i was gonna cheekily send the prompts as an ask to myself but lol i figured that'd be a bit lame #(you can actually legit send asks to yourself and not on anon)#sorry i like to see you suffer nick #nick and catherine #also i haven't written a lot of nick and cath fics

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letterboxd · 3 years

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Heart Beat.

Minari’s film composer Emile Mosseri (also responsible for the Kajillionaire and The Last Black Man in San Francisco scores) tells Ella Kemp about his A24 favorites, Nicholas Britell’s friendship and the boldest Paul McCartney needle drop in movie history.

What do you think a broken heart sounds like? How about a warm, beating one? It’s something that Emile Mosseri has been thinking about for a while now. The past two years have seen him complete a hat-trick of beguiling, transporting scores for Plan B movies: Joe Talbot and Jimmie Fails’ The Last Black Man in San Francisco, Miranda July’s Kajillionaire and now, the film voted the best of 2020 by our community, Lee Isaac Chung’s Minari.

What binds these scores together is a delicacy that knows when to break free and turn into something altogether spectacular. But on Minari in particular, Mosseri is in full bloom, working for the first time in a way he’d always dreamed about. While The Last Black Man in San Francisco saw him compose to a loose edit, and on Kajillionaire he worked to a locked cut, Chung gave him the freedom to write music directly to Minari’s script. “It was a dream to work this way on Minari,” Mosseri says. “It was so beautifully written and so visceral.”

‘Minari’ composer Emile Mosseri.

Minari is an intimate portrait of a Korean family making their way in rural America, and the composer was interested in “trying to figure out musically how you can feel connected to your deepest childhood memories”. These memories belong, in the film, to David—a tiny king played by eight-year-old Alan Kim—as he comes to terms with his new life on a small farm in Arkansas, as his family strives for their own version of the American Dream.

The Yi family is made up of David and his sister Anne (Noel Kate Cho), their parents Monica (Han Ye-ri) and Jacob (Steven Yeun) and their grandmother, Soon-ja (Youn Yuh-jung). It’s a personal story for Chung, one that Mosseri felt honored to be a part of. “It’s a very intimate story with these five characters, which takes place mostly in this small mobile home—but emotionally, it’s very epic.”

There was something about Chung that had caught Mosseri’s attention early on. “I had met him at the LA premiere of Last Black Man,” Mosseri says, “and I sent him the Kajillionaire score.” Mosseri was already familiar with the filmmaker’s work: “His first film, Munyurangabo, is incredible.” He calls Chung “very open, but also sly” in terms of hitting the right notes and “gently steering the ship”. The partnership between composer and director was about working on “a more emotional level,” Mosseri says. “There was never any talk about what we wanted stylistically.”

The ‘Minari’ ensemble cast.

The result is a film graced with music at once lush and raw, grandiose and vulnerable. Mosseri is keenly aware of these nuances, and always made sure to walk the tonal tightrope in the writing process. “There aren’t sad cues and hopeful cues,” he explains. “Every cue has both feelings. Each musical moment dips in and out of the hopefulness and joy of a family, and then the pain and frustration and dissonance that they hold.”

The way Mosseri’s music swells and flows often feels intangible, magical, even—which comes more from knowing what to avoid, rather than acting with too much forced intention. On his first film, Mosseri brought brass and strings to the streets of San Francisco, and with Miranda July, he worked old Hollywood glamor into the concrete blocks of Los Angeles. Here, we twirl through the tall grass as gentle acoustic guitars and elegant string sections sigh and sway, while the Yi family work through their growing pains.

“We didn’t want to hear Korean music when you see Korean characters, and we didn’t want twangy music when you see an American farm,” Mosseri explains. “We wanted to come at it from the side somehow, in some way that’s unexpected.” ‘Rain’, his collaboration with Minari star Han Ye-ri, which features on the official soundtrack, encapsulates this juxtaposition. It’s an epic lullaby of sorts; Han sings in Korean to a gentle guitar; a pleasing swell of synths climbs alongside her voice. The effect on the listener is as if liquid love is trickling from every vein. “I wanted this score to feel like it had a warm, beating heart.”

youtube

Two of your three feature films to date have been released by A24, and so we must ask: what are your favorite A24 film scores? Emile Mosseri: Three come to mind. First of all, Anna Meredith’s score for Eighth Grade. It’s so adventurous and unexpected and fresh and just brilliant. It’s so pure and out-there. It also does this impossible thing of being hip and exciting and deep, but also hilarious. The pool-party scene fucking kills me.

Then there’s Under the Skin by Mica Levi. I remember seeing that at the Nighthawk theater in Brooklyn and feeling like it was the best score I’d heard in as long as I could remember.

And then of course, Moonlight. That film got under my skin in a way I didn’t see coming. I saw it by myself in a theater, after hearing all the hype for months and months. When a movie has that much hype you can get a bit cynical and it can distract you, so I went in a bit guarded, but I left the film destroyed. For weeks and weeks it resonated with me in a way that was so profound, and a large part of that is due to Nick [Britell]’s music. And the film is just perfection.

Scarlett Johansson in ‘Under the Skin’ (2013), scored by Mica Levi.

You’ve been described as Nicholas Britell’s protégé more than once… It’s funny, I think that came from me being a fan of his and saying nice things about his music. I met him at Sundance two years ago when Last Black Man was premiering. I went with my wife and my brother and I was so excited, I’d been waiting for this moment for so long. We walked in and Nick and Barry [Jenkins] were walking in behind [us]. And there was also Boots Riley, Kamasi Washington… all these people I looked up to. I hadn’t considered that I would see this film in the room with them, and it was the first time I was hearing the final mix and just agonizing.

Nick was incredibly generous and said great things about the score and was super encouraging, and he became a friend and mentor. But I’ve never studied with him or worked with him. Although, if you’re a fan of somebody’s work, you’re a student of any of these composers that you admire. Anything you watch and listen to, you absorb.

What was the first film that made you want to be a composer? It was Edward Scissorhands. Danny Elfman’s score was the first one that made me realize that this was a job. I’m always attracted to big, romantic melodies, and over-the-top sweeping stuff—but done tastefully. In that score, he sets the high-water mark for me. It’s so unapologetically romantic.

And then there are other obvious ones like The Godfather. It’s maybe a dorky choice because it’s the most famous movie ever, but it really is the best. And that got me into Nino Rota, and from there I found [Federico] Fellini and all these movies through Nino, the composer. And then I got really into the score for La Dolce Vita and more movies that he’d written for, which are so beautiful.

The ‘Edward Scissorhands’ (1990) score was an early inspiration for Mosseri.

Which films, new to you, blew you away in 2020? Take Shelter by Jeff Nichols blew me away. It unfolded in a way that was intoxicating and really exciting, and it just really stuck with me.

What’s been your favorite needle drop on screen this year? Aside from Devonté Hynes’ score being stunning, there’s an amazing piece of music placed in an episode of Luca Guadagnino’s We Are Who We Are. They use a Paul McCartney song called ‘Let Em In’, and they dropped it in this incredibly tasteful but unexpected way, in a really dark, emotionally loaded scene. It worked in such a beautiful and graceful way. It’s because it’s the most cheery McCartney, it’s full-blown upbeat and poppy McCartney. And this is the darkest-of-the-dark human pain, and it lands in this way that is such a bold choice, such a powerful move.

What should people listen to after watching Minari? One record I’ve been listening to a lot recently is Jeff Tweedy’s Love is the King. It could be a good companion to Minari. I’m a huge fan of his and it’s a gorgeous record. It’s very stripped-down and emotionally raw, and it’s both hopeful and heartbreaking.

Which filmmakers would you love to work with next? I’m always afraid to answer this question because there are so many filmmakers I admire. There are filmmakers I grew up with loving their films—working with Miranda was that for me. Spike Jonze or Yorgos Lanthimos are directors in her world that I also love and would love to work with. But there’s so many others. Derek Cianfrance is amazing and he works with different composers. I love his choice of collaborators musically. I love that he used the late great Harold Budd to do his shows [including I Know This Much is True], and then Mike Patton, and Grizzly Bear… the music is always incredible in his projects, but he doesn’t have a go-to person. His films are so heartbreaking and powerful and really, really raw. He’s fearless.

I feel very lucky that I’ve worked on these three films which are all very much like somebody’s ripping their heart out and putting it on the screen. I feel like Derek Cianfrance does that in his films too, in this unapologetic, super-vulnerable way of just ripping his soul out and putting it out for everyone to see. It’s incredibly appealing to find those projects, because they’re really rare.

Related content

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Awards Season 2020-2021: our annual list of major trophy winners

The Perfect Score: a Letterboxd Showdown

Follow Ella on Letterboxd

‘Minari’ is available everywhere in the US that movies can be rented, and screening in select theaters in the US and other regions. Listen to the official soundtrack and more of Mosseri’s film compositions in the official Spotify playlist via Milan Records. ‘Kajillionaire’ is available on VOD now.

#minari #letterboxd year in review #kajillionaire #the last black man in san francisco #emile mosseri #miranda july #lee isaac chung #a24 #a25 films #film composer #film soundtrack #film score #derek cianfrance #nicholas britell #nino rota #letterboxd

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weirdostoner · 4 years

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For the Love of a Monster Ch. 1

Instead of updating I decided to post this here 🤷🏼‍♀️ maybe I'll actually get to the next chapter soon. This is a billwise idea that just kinda took off. On mobile so sorry if the format is weird.

It was the summer when Bill turned 17 when everything came roaring back into place. The six years in between had been good to the Losers, though they now had the memories to fill in the hazy gap.

Ignorance is bliss Bill thinks to himself. He’s angry at himself- for letting the memory of Georgie fade to the back of his mind. As if his little brother didn’t matter. As if a part of him hadn’t died right along with the boy.

He comes back to the moment, to the six almost adults gathered around him. The few years that passed changed them all; similarities to their younger selves were all that were left. He thinks of the boy, the dead child , that has brought them all here and a chill fills him.

“This is fucking insane. I thought you killed the clown six years ago!” Richie’s voice had deepened, but remained no less nerve grating. It wasn’t the first time the others had heard him say some variation of the same, and they unfortunately expected it wouldn’t be the last.

“I-I’ve sa-said it b-b-before, R-rich-chie. S-so did I,” Bill replied no less confused than Richie, and growing more irritated with the other teen.

“Ok, let’s forget that,” Beverly cuts in- and everyone quiets to listen to her. “Has anyone seen It?”

The boys look to each other, some thinking for a moment before shaking their head.

“No,” Mike answers for all of them.

“Neither have I,” Beverly continues, “Don’t you think that’s...weird?”

Bill supposes that it is. Last time around they could barely go a day without It going after at least one of them. And it’d already been a week without any sign of the clown other than a little boy missing.

“Do you think it’s waiting?” Stanley voices, and Bill notices the way he’s shaking.

“C-could be, b-but w-why?” Why wait now that It was awake? Seeing as Bill had only managed to injure it, they’d all be scrambling once again for a way to kill It. Now was the perfect time for It to attack- so why hadn’t It?

“Maybe It’s still weak,” Ben’s answer is an obvious one, and also the easiest to stomach. It would mean they’d have more time to come up with a plan. Whether they had enough of it to be successful was the real concern.

“Maybe,” Bill says, choosing to neither agree nor disagree. Something in him told the teen that wasn’t it. The feeling of being watched only cemented it. He kept his face straight, though the hair on his neck and arms stood up. Despite being panicked, he felt no genuine fear, and didn’t want to alarm his friends with the reaction.

“Guys, it’s getting dark. Maybe we should just go home for now,” Eddie sounded nervous, for good reason. Though Bill wasn’t sure if he was more afraid of the clown or his own mother.

“S-sounds like a p-plan,” Bill says, standing up from the milk crate that acted as a chair. The rest were a bit slower in joining him, aside from Eddie and Stanley. One by one, they climbed up out the hideout, helping one another.

“What if It shows up and we’re alone,” Stanley asks, fear in his voice. Bill takes a moment to put a hand on his shoulder, steadying him.

“F-find o-one of us,” he answers,” a-and reme-member, I-it c-can’t hu-hurt you if yuh-you don’t l-let It.”

He’s not sure how much his words actually help, but the other teen tries for a smile regardless.

They each mount their bikes, waiting for someone to speak.

“W-we’ll meet b-back here t-tomorrow,” Bill says, because what is he if not a leader? “T-tomorrow o-or so-sooner if w-we need t-to,” he stresses, waiting for everyone to show their acknowledgment. Once he has it, he turns Silver in the direction of home.

If he could call it that. He sends a thought of safety to his friends and begins the ride back.

______

He’s halfway home, sky steadily getting darker, when he notices it.

And, well, It .

The sudden sense of danger puts him on high alert, latent instincts once again activated from what his body knows is a predator. He doesn’t stop pedaling. Glancing around slowly, his heart sinks into his stomach. In the treeline of a house in front of him, Bill sees a shock of wild copper and the orange glow of eyes. Then there’s just It- smiling maniacally at him with needle teeth on full show.

When It notices him looking back, It waves one long arm in a slow wave. Those eyes follow him as he passes, smile stretched across It’s face the entire time.

Bill pedals faster, pulling away from the ‘clown’. He glances back when he makes it down the street, but the clown is gone. A quick sweep around him confirms It really is and isn’t just playing a twisted trick.

Shaken from adrenaline, Bill continues his ride home, nervously glancing around. Parking his bike in the usual spot when he gets home, Bill climbs right up the stairs to his room when he’s inside. Neither of his parents try to stop him- barely seem to notice he’s returned.

After he changes and climbs into bed, he takes a moment to think. Why had It come to Bill first?

Out of all the Losers, he’d been the least scared the last time around, so why choose him?

No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t come up with a sound reason.

Finally sleep came, thoughts of the clown still filling his head as he slipped further into its embrace.

He dreams of many strange things that night. Most of them in some way or another feature It. Nothing makes sense, but he feels no fear.

In fact...he feels almost safe .

He remembers none of them when he awakes.

____

It returned to Neibolt house in giddy spirits. Spying on his Billy at first had only enraged It. Seeing the boy (for despite how old the child might like to think himself, he would always be a speck next to the eons It had) surrounded by his friends always managed to irritate It. That they spoke of ways to try and harm Pennywise was what truly made It livid.

They thought It weakened from them. Some humans that were nothing but cattle to It. The very idea was humorous.

Soon they will see.

It did not hide from children and felt no fear for what they might come up with. Instead It remembered the heady mix of their fear, mingled together in the hole they called a hideout.

It felt excitement when the though of Billy returned. It would have a feast and a mate.

Billy wasn’t quite ready yet, still attached to his human friends. But the time was soon approaching, and with it a deal It knew his Billy would not refuse.

Smiling wide, eyes blank with insanity, Pennywise lowered Itself down the well and into Its home.

#billwise #pennybill #pennywise #bill denbrough #It #with a capital i #bill denbrough x pennywise #pennywise the dancing clown #fanfic #my work

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luckyspike · 5 years

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The Ol’ Switcheroo - A Good Omens fanfiction

everybody else has written it but i wanted to write The Night At Crowley’s Place

where our two supernatural buddies switch bodies

and aziraphale says the fuck word

everybody stays completely dressed the entire time by the way sorry to disappoint but i do love my ace avengers

link to AO3 if you prefer to read it there

They go to Crowley’s flat, after Armageddon. It wasn’t Aziraphale’s first choice, however as his first choice was, as far as he knew, currently sitting in a soggy pile of char and cinders, it was the only other sensible option. He sighed as they went through the front door, Crowley first and Aziraphale after him, the demon swinging the door shut behind the angel and wordlessly gliding past him, toward the office.

“Euch,” he said, from around the corner. Aziraphale followed.

“Euch,” he echoed, when he arrived. “Who, er … was that … ?”

Crowley looked glum, sunglasses fixed on the puddle. “Ligur. Result of your security policy, angel. Thanks.” He breathed out through his nose, long and meditative. “Saved my life, probably.”

“Then it was my pleasure.” They stood, staring at the puddle, shoulder-to-shoulder. After a few minutes, Aziraphale snapped, and the goo dematerialized in a blinding holy glow. Crowley winced and looked away. “Much better,” Aziraphale risked, weakly.

“Yuh.”

They stared at the floor a bit longer. Truthfully, neither was sure what to do next.

Crowley was the first to speak, after a while, hands in his pockets, still staring at the floor. “They’re going to come after us.”

“Indubitably.”

“So we’re still going to die,” he lamented, glum and bordering on whining. “They were going to torture me for eternity anyway, and that was before I coached an eleven-year-old into telling my boss to piss off.” He scuffed a foot over where Ligur’s remains had been. “I suppose I can beg for forgiveness - choose my face or whatever. They’ll still drown me in Holy Water. Dissolve me. Whatever.” He swallowed hard. “An eye for an eye. So, uh. Nice, er. Nice working with you. Glad we saved the world, anyway.”

Aziraphale looked to him, brow creased with upset and worry. “Crowley.”

“I mean they probably won’t kill you,” Crowley went on. “Angels aren’t usually like that, anyway, right? Especially if you apologize.” He considered it for a minute. “I mean, you’re definitely going to Fall at least, but I guess my last actions on Earth can be to tell you how that’sgoing to go. The trick is not to fall asleep while you’re taking the dive - I did that, got bored I guess, and I couldn’t slow down fast enough to -”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale cut in, sharp and firm. Crowley paused. Took a breath. Aziraphale softened. Then,

“No, you know what, you’re right, they’re definitely going to kill you. Probably hellfire. Did you see Gabriel back there? Itching for a bloody fight, and he’s just the paper-pusher. I can’t imagine how Michael feels right now, glad I’m not Up There anymore I’ll tell you that. At least you don’t have to worry about Falling, though. You think we’ll see God for once if we die?” He bit his lip, scowling. “Got a few choice words for Her, after all this.”

“Argh!” Aziraphale threw his hands up. “Crowley! Listen to me!”

“What?” Crowley snarled. “I’ve had a very trying day, Aziraphale, excuse me if I’m trying to come to grips with the death I didn’t think was going to come after a quick 6,000 years. I’m in my prime! Still plenty of good years left in me! And I stopped the bloody Apocalypse, very not-Hellish but you’re welcome, anyway, but that’s life for you, I guess. But I’m trying to make you feel better about it too, you absolute twat.”

Aziraphale, quite unconsciously, started twisting his fingers into his hair. “How is talking about our inevitable executions supposed to make me feel better?”

“Trying to make you laugh, innit?” He spread his arms. “We saved the world! Congratulations, traitors, enjoy the sweet embrace of death!”

Aziraphale stared at him for a beat. The demon laughed, and it ended up sounding a little bit like a sob. Aziraphale took his hand, and started dragging him through the office, past the houseplants* and into the bedroom, which he knew about only because he’d been there once in the late 80s, when Crowley had taken one of his shorter fourteen-month naps. He shoved Crowley onto the bed and stood over him, arms crossed, glaring down imperiously.

[* Which were rather surprised to see their Infernal Master hiccuping and making the odd squeaking noise that might have, from any other sentient being, been crying.]

“Stop crying,” he said with all the authority of a Principality, echoes of the universe just under the tone of his voice. Crowley gulped and made a valiant effort. “I have a plan.”

Crowley watched him. His glasses slid down his nose, and he stared, wide-eyed, slit pupils unmoving, before he muttered, “A Great Plan?” And then he started laugh-crying again, falling backwards onto the bed, pulling at his hair. Aziraphale sighed and leaned over him, hands on his hips.

“Crowley, this really is - oof.” He grunted as the wind was knocked out of him. Crowley had kicked him. Actually kicked him! Right in the waistcoat, and there was a bootprint and everything! Aziraphale glared at the bootprint, eyes narrow, while Crowley carried on with his dramatics on the bed. The angel frowned deeper as he tried to brush the stain off, and found it was truly ground in. It was the work of a quick snap to make it disappear and then, his face like stone, he grabbed Crowley around the ankle and jerked him off the bed. The demon’s back hit the hard stone floor and he gasped, the wind briefly knocked out of him, as Aziraphale stepped over him, one foot on either side of his skinny torso, and propped his hands on his hips. “Would you listen?” Aziraphale demanded.

Crowley blinked. “Okay.”

“I have a plan, not a great plan and probably not even a very good plan, but I have hope that it will be an effective plan, which is much better and involves neither of us dying.”

“Okay.”

He pulled a slip of paper from his waistcoat, and brandished it at Crowley. “Agnes Nutter’s prophecy, I don’t think, means pretending to be sorry.” When he saw Crowley starting to squint at the page, he sighed, and turned it around to read it aloud, instead. “When all is fated and done, ye must choose your faces wisely, for soon enough ye will be playing with fire.”

Crowley’s face screwed up with concentration. “So what the bloody fuck does it mean, then?”

Aziraphale steadied himself. If he were feeling more charitable, or if Crowley had been less ridiculous earlier, he might have encouraged the demon to sit down on the bed. He might have broken his theory more diplomatically. But he was tired, actually tired, and he was afraid, even if he refused to show it, and Crowley was being a child about this, and so instead of being kind and gentle and tactful he said, “She wants us to bloody well switch bodies, doesn’t she?”

“She what?”

“Switch bodies! I dress my holy essence up in your body, you throw my form over your infernal nonsense, and we fool them both! Literally choose our faces!” He let his arms fall to his sides. “Crowley, listen, you’re right: both sides are going to be furious. Someone’s going to have to take the blame for this, and you’re spot-on that it will most definitely be us. You’re probably even right about the executions, although we can’t know that for certain. Still, it’s … likely.” Crowley looked dangerously close to laugh-sobbing again. “But if we switch bodies, Crowley,” he said slowly, leaning in closer, “then they can’t use all the Holy Water and hellfire they want, and it will never work.”

Crowley’s mouth was open. “You can’t know … How do you know for sure that that’s what -”

“It makes the most sense, dear boy. You said it yourself: an eye for an eye. We made them look like fools and destroyed their plans, their only logical recourse is to destroy us.” He offered his hands to Crowley. “But if we switch bodies, or physical shapes at least …?” He raised his eyebrows, lips pursed. “Let me help you up, Crowley.”

The demon’s hands slid into his own. “Okay.” With a grunt, Aziraphale gripped his hands and raised him from the floor, only for Crowley to sway for a minute and then collapse into a sitting position on the bed. This time, Aziraphale sat next to him, calm, watching his face the entire time.

Crowley thought it over for the better part of an hour. Occasionally, he would move his mouth, as if he were going to say something, but then he would stop, and be quiet for a while longer. There were long stretches when all Aziraphale could hear was the quiet ticking of the demon’s watch, or the occasional traffic sound from the street outside. Big Ben chimed. Finally, Crowley’s shoulders relaxed a little. He hadn’t said anything, but Aziraphale was so familiar with his body language that he didn’t need to. Cautious, the angel extended his hand for a handshake. “You’re in agreement?”

“And we won’t explode?” Crowley asked, hand halfway to the angel’s.

“I have no way of knowing that. We’re dead either way, though.”

“True.” He swallowed, and his arm inched forward, before he snatched it back, eyes wide. “Hang on, we’re going to have to fully pretend to be each other, then.”

“Yes. That would be rather important.”

“You’re going to have to act like me.”

“Correct.” He frowned at the demon’s dubious expression. “I have known you for the entirety of human existence, Crowley. I think I’d be rather familiar with your mannerisms by now.” He might have said something of Crowley’s impression of him, but truthfully he wasn’t worried. He’d seen Crowley mock him many times in the past, and although it was childish and petty and sometimes hurtful, Aziraphale was also humble enough to recognize that under the layer of vicious mockery, Crowley was usually dead on. He sighed. “We can practice, if it makes you feel better.”

“Going to have to,” Crowley affirmed. “Definitely.” His mouth twitched into a frown, just for a second, before he whispered, “And you really think this is the way out, hm?”

Aziraphale patted his knee. “The only one I can see, dear boy. Trust me, if there were something less absolutely reckless I would have suggested it already.”

“Yeah.” Crowley stared at his navel for a minute, lost in thought, and then looked back to the angel, sitting up as straight as he ever did, and squaring his shoulders. “Right. Right, okay. You’re right. And I’m in. But before you put on this body you ought to know a few things.” He snorted, and Aziraphale hesitated, as if his friend might burst into hysterical sobbing again. Crowley didn’t, though, and instead crossed his legs, his hand on his knee, tapping out each point as he made it. “One: I’m a snake so there’s that. We’ll have to practice transforming, just in case.”

“Just in case,” Aziraphale muttered, thoughtful but not disagreeable. “Yes, yes, just in case.”

“Two: snakes have terrible vision and I’m sorry but you’re not going to be able to see anything really aside from a bunch of blurry smudges and some infra-red if it’s dark.” He smirked. “You’ll get used to it.”

“That explains your driving,” he replied, with a soft chuckle. To his enormous relief, Crowley joined him in it.

“Does, I suppose. Anyway, Hell’s dark so you’ll be fine with the infra-red. Right, next, three: Everything tastes like ash, so unless you want your favorite food to be ruined forever, don’t eat anything.”

Aziraphale’s mouth fell open. “Is that why you don’t eat?” he asked, after a minute, a wave of pity washing over him. Crowley frowned and then laughed, waving a hand.

“No, angel. I mean, it doesn’t help, but no, I do eat, about once every two or three weeks - you had to have noticed** - but any more than that and I just have to nap so much it’s hardly practical. But the point stands: if you don’t want to associate your favorite food with the taste of ash and brimstone, don’t eat while you’re me.”

[** He had, and he always suggested Crowley’s favorite restaurants for lunch dates around those times.]

“Noted.”

“Great. Four: snakes don’t actually have limbs, not sure you ever noticed, so the arms and legs are sort of, uh, fabricated and they’re fairly numb unless you stumble across consecrated ground, so just be careful how you go.”

Aziraphale nodded. “This is honestly explaining so much about you, Crowley. Is that why -”

“I walk like that for reasons of personal aesthetic, angel. It’s a learned skill. You’re going to need to demonstrate before tomorrow morning.”

“Ah.”

“Right.” He looked thoughtful. “Okay, got the snake thing, the vision - oh, if you get stuck you can taste the air, that’s got me out of a few spots over the years - the limbs, the eating thing. Er.” He drummed his fingers on his knee. “Can’t fly, you knew that one …” He thought it over, idly scratching his knee, and then, “Oh! I’m probably going into shed next week, so everything itches. Ignore it; I’ll deal with that if we live.” He stuck out his hand. “That’s it. Ready?”

Now it was Aziraphale’s turn to hesitate. “I’m not sure.” He put his hand out, hesitant. “I mean, I do want to live, absolutely, but if I’m going to have to remember all of this then I’m a bit concerned.”

“It’s not that bad. Like I said: you get used to it. The body’s not going to magically do anything else. Well, it’ll turn into a snake if you’re not careful, but we’ll iron that out.”

“Do you want instructions on this body?”

“Anything special I should know?”

“... Not really. No. Pretty standard, honestly.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “You know, if we pull this off, and don’t die, and switch back, and still don’t die, you’ll be the only angel in history to have a trial run of being a demon.” He barked a half-laugh, one time. “Lucky you.”

“Lucky me,” Aziraphale agreed, grimly. And then he nodded, Crowley returned the gesture, and they gripped hands. Neither of them had actually changed bodies before, but they’d inhabited them, possessed them, and re-corporated them, and although it was disconcerting, like using someone else’s shower and not quite knowing what all the knobs did, it was still at the base a body, and the change went as smoothly as they could have hoped. They sat still for a breath afterwards, Crowley-as-Aziraphale looking wildly around the room, eyes wide, fingers twisting into the bedsheets, and Aziraphale-as-Crowley squinting at him, trying to make anything out.

“I’ll never make fun of you for books on tape again,” Aziraphale concluded, in Crowley’s voice. Crowley-as-Aziraphale, in response, shoved a pair of sunglasses onto him.

“You look like a bloody prat.”

“You mean you look like a bloody prat.”

“No, you-being-me look like a bloody prat with that Mister Magoo horseshit. Stop squinting, it doesn’t help.” He licked his lips, and looked perplexed. “I want a Cornetto.” He stood, cautiously at first, and then took a few experimental steps, before turning and holding up a finger to Aziraphale, not that he could have seen it anyway. “Wait there, we’ll practice the walk, but I need ice cream.” He strode from the room, confident and even and steady (albeit with more swagger than Aziraphale ever attempted), and returned minutes later with a Cornetto in hand, biting into the top of it. “Oh, it’s so sweet.” He made a face. “How do you eat this?”

“I like them.”

“I mean, I’m not complaining, it’s the first normal thing I’ve tasted since I Fell that wasn’t charcoal or blood, but you have to eat some vegetables or something to balance this out.” He took another bite. “Mf, it’s good though.” He savored the ice cream for another minute, while Aziraphale experimentally stuck out Crowley’s legs and tried to study his feet. They were, as promised, mostly numb. Except for the itching, which he was resolutely ignoring and which was, possibly, slowly driving him insane.

“Right,” Aziraphale heard his voice say, around a mouthful of ice cream, “off you go, then.”

Aziraphale had to think about it. Hard enough being in a different body - his center of gravity was off, and unlike when he was possessing the lovely Madame Tracy he didn’t have another person that was used to the body along for the ride to help - but add in numb feet and not being able to clearly see the floor and he was more than a little disconcerted. Still, he managed to lever himself standing, feet spread wide and arms out. He swayed a little. He heard himself - his voice - whimper.

“Oh, we’re definitely dead.”

He frowned. “Don’t be so pessimistic, it’s just my balance is off. Give me a minute. You’re too tall and skinny, you damnable demon.” He pretended not to hear himself laughing in the background. “Right. Okay, so you always lean back a bit, kind of off to the left -” He straightened up, and then leaned, just as he’d said. “So far?” He risked a look over his shoulder - Crowley’s shoulder? - and saw Crowley-as-himself sitting with his face in his hands, watching with trepidation through a crack in his fingers.

“Better, anyway.” There was a beat. “Hang on - you … you changed the collar of my jacket. Angel, is that tartan?”

Aziraphale ignored him. “And then hands in pockets!” he said with forced cheer. “Always! These are very small pockets, Crowley!”

“Yes, they’re women’s jeans. The pockets are completely useless: it’s one of my finer pieces of work.”

Aziraphale shook his head. “Of course. Anyway, so you slouch to the left, and then there’s the way you swing your right hip.” He took an experimental step, and then another. And then grabbed a statue because he lost his balance, and nearly wiped out. “Oh, bother.”

“Alright, first of all, too much. Second of all, I would never say ‘oh, bother’.” Crowley stood and Aziraphale became aware of how warm he felt to Crowley, when he took the outstretched hand to help pull him back to his feet. “Alright, try again, but less Jack Sparrow on it.”

“Who?”

“Never mind.” He watched, appraising, as Aziraphale gave it another try. “Better.”

“I still feel like I’m going to fall over.”

“Means you’re doing it alright.” He put his head to the side - studious - and watched as Aziraphale took another wobbly step in his body. “Less sway. Think of it as an upright slither. Not big movements but you go side-to-side as well as forward.”

“I don’t have much experience with slithering, I’m afraid.” He tried once more. “Better?”

“Eh.” He saw the smudges of his body’s shoulders shrug. “Yes. But a bit stilted. But you know, it’ll fool them. It’s close enough.” He stepped aside. “Do a couple of laps. Really, angel, it’s all in the hips. Right. Better.” He did a few laps, as requested, Crowley watching appraisingly through his own blue eyes, hands in his pockets. “Yeah, yeah there you go. It’s all in the attitude, angel.”

“Attitude, right.” He paused, and then continued, announcing as he did, “Move, I’m better than all of you!” He smirked as Crowley laughed. “Get out of the way, I have to go climb a telephone pole and cut all the lines.”

“Yes! Yes, attitude!” He fell into step next to Aziraphale, walking backwards. “Let the hate flow through you.”

Aziraphale paused. “What?” He watched his own face fall.

“Right, forgot you haven’t seen Star Wars. It’s from a film, angel. Anyway, attitude. I’m better looking, I’m smarter, I’m infernally evil, I’m who every edgelord teenager wished they could be, I’m the ultimate being of temptation.”

It was unsettling, Crowley thought, how Aziraphale’s presence in his body could warp his facial expressions like that. He wouldn’t have ever considered that he could smile with such … affection. “Certainly,” Aziraphale told him. “Oh, certainly. Very evil. Not a single kind bone in your entire body.”

“Nope. Infernal. Forged in the fires of Hell.” He poked his body in the chest. “Literally bad to the bone.”

Aziraphale remembered himself, and resumed slouching. “If you have bones. I’m not convinced.”

“Hah, right.”

Aziraphale clapped his hands and stood up straighter, settling into typical Aziraphale posture in spite of being in Crowley’s body. “Tip-top. Now, you do me.”

“Angel, I’m sure I can manage.”

“Well, I had to prove I could, only fair for you to do the same. Stand up straighter.” Crowley rolled his eyes and obliged. “And get into character -”

“Of course you would say that. Hang on.” He looked thoughtful, and then clasped his hands in front of himself, smiling in a way that was probably meant to look warm and inviting but instead looked rather deranged. “Pip pip old boy, here we are all … uh … oh, Oscar Wilde! First edition! Tickety-boo and get a wiggle on! Buy one of my books and I’ll fucking murder you!”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale tried to admonish, but it was a lost cause. He’d started snorting somewhere around ‘wiggle on’ and outright laughing at the last part. “Dear boy, I don’t generally say, er, the uh -”

“Oh, you’re me now, you have to say it.” Crowley prodded him. “I wasn’t sure this mouth would even be able to do it. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuckery fuck. You do it.”

“The fuck word,” Aziraphale concluded, while simultaneously resolving to never tell Crowley about the Shadwell incident. They stared at each other for a minute, before they both, as one, started laughing, low and hesitant at first, and then harder, more genuine, until there were tears streaming from Aziraphale’s eyes and they were both forced to sit on Crowley’s bed before they fell over, leaning into one another. Crowley’s body seemed unconsciously drawn to Aziraphale’s natural body heat, leaning in a little closer than maybe necessary. When Aziraphale realized, he acted nonchalant, laid back on the bed, and distracted himself by pushing the sunglasses back up Crowley’s nose.

“This is absolutely bonkers,” Crowley sighed, likewise laying back, hands folded on his stomach. “It shouldn’t work, but it’s so daft that it might.”

Aziraphale sobered a little. “Yes, rather. Best chance we’ve got, though.”

“Million-to-one odds, I bet.”

Aziraphale hummed in agreement. “Probably. But, you know, remember when I was learning magic?”

“I have done my best to forget, but yes, I recall.”

“The magician I was learning from - lovely chap, really knew his stuff, could always make the tricks look so easy - was talking about theory one day, and said that some of the tricks seem to work like that. Million-to-one. Like the lady in the box of swords***, yes? It’s a million-to-one chance that the assistant makes it out without injury. And yet, they do.” He held up a finger, making his point and made an attempt to imitate the voice of his mentor, though it was worse than usual due to using unfamiliar vocal chords. “Million-to-one chances, Ezra, will come through for you nine times out of ten.”

[*** Aziraphale had never attempted the sword box trick. He did love magic, and fancied himself fairly good at basic tricks, but he knew his limitations. He also, on a deep level that he would never, ever confess to Crowley, knew he was fairly rubbish at magic and he didn’t think any lovely assistants deserved to be subjected to his attempts to learn the sword trick.]

“Hah. Hope so.” Crowley sighed, and grabbed his body’s wrist, looking at the watch there. “Sun’s going to be up in a few hours.” He dropped his arm back to the bed, and Aziraphale let it fall. “I should go. I don’t think they’ll wait long.”

“No, they probably won’t,” Aziraphale agreed. He pushed the sunglasses up, the better to rub his current body’s eyes. “We should have a plan.”

“Yeah.” Crowley closed his eyes - a part of him was loath to do it, it was so nice to be able to see - and sighed, scrubbing the strangely familiar face with his hands. “Alright. So the energies - they’re less likely to notice the mix of energies if we’re together when they come for us. They’ll think we’ve just contaminated one another. They’re not wrong, but that can be to our advantage overall.”

“Good plan.”

“But,” Crowley went on, thinking aloud, following the strand of thought as it went, “if they don’t see us meet they might suspect something.”

“What makes you think they’ll come for us at the same time?” Aziraphale sounded thoughtful, staring up at the ceiling. “Do you think if you wore glasses you’d be able to see better?”

“They don’t work, and they give me a headache. Focus, angel. They’ll definitely come for us together - we won’t be able to chase each other if they do. They’ll expect that.”

“Are we that predictable?”

Crowley frowned. “I think we might be.”

“Inevitable, I suppose. Alright, so we meet up somewhere. They’ll take the opportunity.”

“St. James’,” Crowley said, without hesitation. “Out in the open. They won’t be as suspicious if we’re out in the open.”

“No, they wouldn’t be. My people certainly won’t be, anyway.”

“And mine’ll just think I’ve finally tripped up badly enough to give them a clear shot.” He ignored the pitying look Aziraphale was giving him. “Natural state of demons, Aziraphale - they really are all out to get you.”

A chill came over Aziraphale suddenly, and a heavy silence settled over him. There was a curious ringing in his ears, quite unrelated to the curious vibratory sensations he’d been trying to reconcile since suiting up in Crowley’s corporation. “Crowley?”

“Hm?”

“I’m going to have to go to Hell.” He swallowed and looked over to Crowley, who was watching him out of his own blue eyes. They lay like that for a minute, looking at one another. Even in Aziraphale’s body, Crowley wasn’t much of one for facial expressions, but there was something there - pity, Aziraphale thought. It was unfamiliar, seeing it on his own face, but he’d seen it on Crowley’s before, and it wasn’t so different. “I’ve never been,” he murmured. “I’m not sure what to expect.”

“It’s … probably not what you’re thinking.” Crowley sat up, leaning on stiff arms, staring at the ceiling. “Not the part they’ll take you to, anyway. Not if they’re going to execute you - they’ll do that publicly. It won’t be in the Pit.” He shook his head. “Too much risk of you escaping into the Hellfire in the Pit.”

“So you don’t think I’ll have to see … him?”

“Who, Lucifer?” Crowley waved a hand. “Nah, only the Dark Council ever sees him these days. And I’m not even sure they see him all that much. He’s been ... quiet.” He shrugged a shoulder. “After the Antichrist was born, I figured that’s why he hasn’t been around. But then you’d think with Armageddon looming we’d start hearing from him more, you know? But we didn’t. I still can’t believe he showed up at the airfield. The only one that’s seen him for ages has been Beelzebub and maybe some other Dark Council members. And his head torturer.” Crowley made a face. “Mazikeen. Nasty piece of work. Lilim.” He shook his head. “Nah, you won’t see him. Or Mazikeen. I’m too small potatoes. It’ll be Beelzebub and Dagon and Hastur, probably, working on the Council’s orders. Maybe Verrier, but I doubt it.”

“Hastur? I know the others, I suppose, but who’s Hastur? Have you talked about him before?”

“Duke of Hell, I’ve mentioned him.” He sighed. “He’s my supervisor. I hate him. And not in like, the demon way where we say we hate someone because we actually like them. Legitimately hate him. He’d have killed me ages ago, if he’d had the chance, but until recently I’ve still been coasting on original sin and the Spanish Inquisition. Verrier is a big fan of original sin.”

“Which you didn’t do. The Spanish Inquisition, that is. You definitely did original sin.”

“They’ll never know,” he scoffed. “And anyway, isn’t original sin enough? Can’t have literally every other sin without it.” He shook his head. “Anyway, never mind. You’re just going to see ol’ Beelz, probably. And Dagon. And definitely Hastur - he won’t miss it.” He frowned. “Bet they’ll have an audience. It’d be their style. Make an example out of the traitor.” He growled. “You know, and it’s bloody hypocritical, isn’t it? I’m meant to rebel and go against the powers that be. That’s all I did! It’s - argh - it’s fucking Falling all over again!” He twisted a hand into the sheets. “Follow these rules, got it, oh, but there’s a whole list of secret rules that we won’t tell you, but don’t violate those, Crowley, you scoundrel, those are the really bad ones and -” He stopped when he felt a hand wrap around his wrist, insistent and gentle. He looked over to his own body - Aziraphale, though, that openness of expression was all Aziraphale - who was frowning at him.

“They wanted a war, Crowley. Both sides. The rules went out the window the minute they decided they were going to fight.” He squeezed Crowley a little, the demon’s body’s skin cold and dry against the warmth of Aziraphale’s body’s hand. “You knew, right away. I should have listened. I’d hoped … But you were right.” He took a breath. Crowley looked away, staring at the floor, Aziraphale’s shoes, the bed. Anywhere but his own body. “If it’s any consolation, they probably won’t have an audience for you. That would be too exhibitionist for Gabriel. And Michael, well. If anything goes wrong, Michael won’t want anybody else to see. No, it’ll just be the four of them: Gabriel, Michael, Uriel, and Sandalphon. That way they can spin the story however they want when it’s all done.”

“Typical,” Crowley grumbled.

“Oh.” Aziraphale sat up suddenly. “Crowley! Heaven!”

“Yes?”

He looked to Crowley-as-Aziraphale, who was staring fixedly at his shoes. “They’re going to take you back to Heaven.”

“Oh, goody,” he said, with all the enthusiasm of a man who, while considering things probably couldn’t get much worse, had just discovered everything had gotten worse. “Probably going to burn like … well, like that church in ‘41, but all over. At least your body will be alright. I can take it.”

“It won’t, though. It’s not consecrated.” He shook his head. “Hasn’t been since Yeshua. It’s been too long since She was there, and Gabriel has never bothered to re-bless it. It’s just … it’s just an office. A big, empty office.” He looked down, face falling. “No love left there at all.” He swallowed. “You’ll be fine.” Crowley was watching him, eyes wide with disbelief. “Things haven’t been the same for a long time, Crowley.”

“You never said.”

“I hoped it would change. I hoped it would … go back to the way it was before. It never did, though.” He shook his head. “It’s why I finally settled in the bookshop. If there wasn’t going to be love in Heaven, then I was going to make sure there was some somewhere in the world. For all sorts, not just the divine.” He forced a chuckle. “I’m soft, Crowley.”

Crowley patted his hand and they shared a look. “Your bookshop’s always been fine for me, angel,” he said softly.

“Yes. Yes, it has.” He took a deep breath. “All gone, now. It’s … I’ll recover. Find something else to do.” A thought occurred to him, suddenly, and his eyes widened. “Crowley?”

“Hm?”

“You said, when you came to Tadfield, that the M25 was on fire.” He looked over, and blinked. “The M25 wasn’t on fire when we came back.”

“No, of course it wasn - Oh. Oh.” He raised a hand to his forehead, twisting fingers into Aziraphale’s soft curls. “He couldn’t have. It had to - no. No, he can’t have - Ngk.” He grabbed his own body’s bony wrist again, and dragged Aziraphale off of the bed, toward the office. “He couldn’t have put it all back.”

“He must have,” Aziraphale breathed, using full advantage of Crowley’s long legs to keep pace as Crowley practically ran to the office. They got stuck, briefly, when they tried to force their way through the door at the same time, but Aziraphale slithered out and was already waving the TV on as he rounded the corner into the office, Crowley hot on his heels.

The news snapped on. “ - though the same research vessel was later found intact, with no injuries or fatalities reported among the crewmembers. This is similar to the incident earlier today on the M25 where there were documented reports of fire and death, however no evidence exists that this actually occurred. At this time, NHS is investigating, but mass hallucinations are believed to be the source of the majority of these reports. We have in the studio to discuss this further the doctor who -” Aziraphale waved the TV back off. They weren’t watching it, anyway, instead staring fixedly at one another, wide-eyed and deathly still.

“He put it back,” Crowley whispered. “He put it all back.”

“But Ligur -” Aziraphale shook his head, not allowing himself to hope, although twinges of a light feeling, of love, were stirring inside him. Crowley’s stomach roiled and growled in response. “He didn’t put it all back.”

“He’s eleven, surely you can forgive a mistake or two.” Crowley grabbed his shoulders, and Aziraphale fought the urge to lean into the warmth of his hands. “I’m going, angel. Meet me at St. James at one. By the usual spot.” He nodded. “If we survive, I’ll meet you after at rendezvous eight.”

Aziraphale frowned, groaned. “Crowley, you know I can never remember -”

“Bench in Tavistock. Angel, he put it back. I bet he put it back.” He started backing away, tripping a little over unfamiliar feet in his excitement. “One o’clock, St. James’! Bring the Bentley!”

There was a slam as the door shut behind Crowley-as-Aziraphale, and the pounding of wingtips on the stone floor. Aziraphale blinked - it didn’t help the vision - and then paused, because the running sound was no longer getting farther away. It was … he was coming back. The door banged back open.

“Don’t be nice to my plants while I’m gone!” Another slam, the sound of running, and this time it faded away entirely, punctuated by the clang of the fire escape door slamming shut. Aziraphale stood, hands clasped behind his back, and tried to ignore how Crowley’s body objected to good posture. “He never told me how to turn into a snake,” he said, at length, slightly disappointed. After a time, he shrugged, and started stalking around the office, looking at the chair (gaudy), the desk (huge but utterly devoid of anything useful), the books (books?), and the art. There was the da Vinci sketch, he’d always liked that, the uncomfortable wrestling statue, he’d never liked that, and … the eagle from the church in ‘41. He paused in front of it, smiling, and traced his fingers over the arch of the eagle’s wings. “When did you go back for this?” he murmured, tapping the bird on the beak. He sighed, happy, smiling so widely that Crowley’s face ached with the unfamiliar movement, and then, only because he knew he was alone and would never be heard, “Oh, Crowley. You old softie.” He tapped the beak once more, chuckled, and turned away. He’d ask about it later.

The plant room stood ahead, green and verdant, the early-morning sunlight trying weakly to slip through the clouds and skylight. “Well,” he murmured, walking toward the greenery, his hands brushing the leaves as he drew even with them, quieting their trembling, “aren’t you all just gorgeous?”

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale #crowley #i wish i didn't enjoy fanfiction so much

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autumnfanfiction · 5 years

Text

Robyn never went to sleep that night after her visit with Dolly. Something about what she was told piqued her curiosity, and she prayed to God it was true. It was more like a conversation with her doing all the talking and hoping that God was listening, but even with the prayers being full of optimism and positivity, deep down she didn’t want someone to come along. It frightened her more than it excited her she begun to realize as she sat back and stared at the walls.

In her 25 years of living on this Earth, she had only been with two people. Her first boyfriend when she was back on the island of her home Barbados, and she couldn’t really say he was her first love. It was a puppy love—– both of them young just wanting to see what a relationship was all about. They dated for a time, but they decided it’d be best to remain friends and that’s what happened until she moved to the U.S. at the beginning of her teenage years.

Her second boyfriend was her most recent relationship and current breakup. The reason why she detested love and thought it was silly to believe in such a thing, at least on her end. She was with him for 5 years, and it seemed all was going well—– they were in love, living together, and it seemed a proposal was coming her way with the next stop being at the altar. So she thought until they both discovered she had cancer, and that’s when their relationship began to plummet.

She shook her head and chuckled bitterly at the thought. Here she was possibly having to face the fate of coming face to face with death and the person she had been with, the person she thought would be there for her abandoned her. She gave him all the love she could give so much so nobody could call it ordinary. She loved hard, and maybe that was the problem. She gave enough love for both of them that he probably felt like there was no need to give it back, so he could just take advantage of her.

After the diagnosis, was done he treated her like the plague––– not wanting to touch or have anything to do with her. It broke her heart and crushed her self esteem that the man who once worshipped her body, found her to be unattractive because she had cancer. She vowed to herself she would never allow him to have that power of viewing and valuing herself any less than what she was.

Her condition worsened at a time, and that’s why she was sent to the hospital and had been for months so the doctors could keep a close eye on her. He never visited her once, and that angered her how he could pretend as if their relationship never happened. Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months, and he never called, came, or even sent a text message. He had left her to deal with this alone, and that was when Love was nothing more than a myth to her. Love left her heartbroken, it left her alone looking at four white walls day and night, and made her feel unlovable. She wanted other people to find it, but she just couldn’t see it for herself.

Light knocks on her door brought her out of her thoughts. “Come in.” She said softly but loud enough for the person to hear.

Her Nurse Sandy came inside, and she smiled at the bubbly nurse walking in. Nurse Sandy was responsible for her, and her Gran Gran and the two have been inseparable since.

“Hey, Robyn, how you feeling honey?”

“I’ve felt better, how are you?”

“I’m fine, but you know I worry about you. Is there something wrong?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Just been thinking a lot lately and trying to come to terms with Gran Gran leaving me soon. I guess I’m just fearful about being alone, you know?”

“Oh Robyn,” she offered her a smile “you’ll never be alone. You know there are people here around the clock that are here for you if you need any company. We’ve come to grow to love you here and just want you to get better but more importantly be happy.”

Robyn smiled. “I know. I just meant like my family since Gran and I are the only ones left.”

Nurse Sandy nodded and said nothing. She went to do the usual routine of checking Robyn and seeing if she could detect any signs that were alarming. “Have you felt any severe pains?”

“No, my chest pains are normal honestly. I cough regularly and I get night sweats periodically but nothing that’s out of the ordinary.”

The nurse nodded while writing Robyn’s declarations down and writing information of her own she gathered from doing her checkup. As she was Robyn noticed an envelope on her clipboard, and tried to get a good glance but with the way, Nurse Sandy angled the board it was no use.

“Nurse Sandy what is that?”

“Hmm? Oh! I almost forgot, he’d kill me if I forgot.” She laughed and handed Robyn the envelope. “This is for you, finished yesterday night, and delivered to you now. If you decide to write back just tell me and I’ll deliver it for you.”

Robyn raised an eyebrow before realization set in. Could it be her ex finally sent her something? She didn’t want to give herself false hope, so she asked, “Who is this from?”

“My lips are sealed.”

Robyn groaned. “Can you at least tell me if it’s somebody I know?”

Nurse Sandy smirked. “Definitely not,” she paused then smiled. “But I guarantee he’ll be someone you’ll want to know.” She winked then exited her room without another word.

Robyn sat the envelope on her lap and looked at it. The cover was beautiful—– her eyes drawn to perfection and she couldn’t really explain how this person was able to do this if they’d never met. Her mind went to a stalker then she laughed and quickly dismissed the thought, her best answer was that it was most likely a fan.

Not wanting to waste more time she carefully opened the envelope not wanting to rip it and took the letter out. She read it, and with the first read, it made her laugh at how cute the person was. After several more reads, there was a permanent smile on her face. And the drawing? She loved it so much. She felt it captured features she didn’t know she had. She couldn’t contain herself any longer, so she got up and went to her Gran’s room to share.

After reading it and showing Dolly the letter itself the only reaction it gauged from the older women was a smirk. Did she know something she didn’t? “What you smirking at Gran?” And she twisted her lips when all she got was a laugh

“None Anna. So yuh gon’ write back, yeah?”

She nodded. “I just don’t know what to say.”

“Neither did he, but him managed, and it’s good if yuh ask me.”

“Do you know something I don’t Gran?”

“Even if mi did, would mi tell ya?”

Robyn let out an exasperated breath as her Gran laughed at her obvious annoyance. Robyn knew she wouldn’t get any answers but she wanted to try at least. She shrugged and decided to start her response and hopefully it would make him want to continue writing. She’d never done this before and never felt this way before either so she definitely wanted to see where this would go.

Robyn didn’t notice, but she had a smile all throughout writing her letter. Dolly sat back and watched proudly as her granddaughter seemed happier she’s ever seen her besides them spending time together. She definitely had a hunch the letter was written by the man she told Robyn about. She didn’t mention it, but she had another vision, and actually, more than she let on. Those were exclusively meant for another pair of ears, and she couldn’t wait to meet the man behind the art.

Chris sat in his room all day impatiently waiting to see if he’d get a response back. The day went by, in a blur and it was time to see if a letter would be delivered or if he attempted to shoot his shot only to brick.

“What if she didn’t like it? Maybe I should write another one, but then that would mean I’m trying too hard.” He kept speaking to himself not noticing Nurse Sandy had entered the room with the very thing he woke up this morning wanting

She cleared her throat, and Chris looked up surprised not knowing anyone was in his room. “D-did she write back?”

Nurse Sandy silently waved the letter and Chris did a little dance in his bed while Nurse Sandy joined him in his hysterics. “She did, and I can say she was really happy with what you wrote and I probably should’ve let her letter tell you that, huh?”

Chris chuckled then waved her off. “It’s fine I’m glad to hear that. I’ve been waiting for this all day, what took you so long?”

“I have other patients to attend to Mr. Brown, you’re lucky I was able to sneak a couple minutes in to get this to you before you started wreaking havoc in this establishment.”

Chris playfully stuck his tongue out at her and took the letter from her. On the front of the envelope was “TO CB 💋” and his excitement was palpable when he saw the lipstick mark. He opened the envelope carefully not wanting to rip it before he swiftly took the letter out. He was about to read it when he noticed Nurse Sandy was peering over his shoulder waiting to hear what it said.

“Oh come on you’re not gonna share a little bit?” Chris smiled shaking his head. “You have other patients to attend to remember?”

She scoffed “Just petty.”

Chris laughed. “Well, I’ll be back tomorrow morning to pick up your letter.” She left the room, and he braced himself before reading what it said.

#chrianna #chrianna ff #chrianna fanfic #chrianna fanfiction #chris brown #rihanna #chris brown fanfic #rihanna fanfic

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neonganymede · 6 years

Note

if you're still doing those, 21 + Quirrellmort?

Ooohhh of course I’m still doing this!! Feel free to send me prompts any time!

21. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?”

send me a pairing and a number for a drabble!

“We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feelthe rain?”

Voldemort was pissed.

This wasn’tto say that Voldemort wasn’t always pissed about something. As the residentFormer-Dark-Lord, it came with the territory. Usually, he was pissed about the normalthings: Harry Potter, muggleborns, Harry Potter, Snickers. Harry Potter.

Today, though. Todayhe was pissed about the heat. Ridiculous, overwhelming, sweat-inducing heat that he’d never expected could exist. He wassweating in places that shouldn’t even thinkabout sweating, and he wished he could peel off the shirt sticking to hisskin. Quirrell warned him that he was too pale, though; so he was suffering in nastyjeans and this stupid shirt, and he was pissedabout it.

He didn’t even want togo on this road trip. It had been Quirrell’s idea to drive cross-country and see the sights, as he liked to say. Quirrellhad made this whole expedition sound much more amazing than it actually was.

Realistically, this had probably been the worst thing the two of themcould ever do. Their relationship was still new, and being stuck in the same enclosedspace was taking its toll on them. He and Quirrell had barely spoken since theypulled onto the long, winding road that would take them along the Florida coast.They hadn’t even seen any coast yet;just trees, trees, and more trees. Voldemortnever wanted to see another tree again in his whole life.

Voldemort glanced at Quirrell uncertainly, wondering what wasgoing through his boyfriend’s mind. Quirrell looked just as stressed asVoldemort felt; his tank top was wet around the neck with sweat, and he kept swallowingaround the dryness in his throat. His hair was wet, too—wet and slicked back tokeep out of his eyes.

Voldemort thought he looked damn beautiful. Beautiful and thirsty. He’d been trying so hard tomake this trip something they could both enjoy, and all Voldemort had done wasact like an asshole about it. He had to do something.

While Quirrell was focused on the road, Voldemort reached over forhis wand. He pointed it at Quirrell’s empty water bottle and murmured a quiet “Aguamenti.”

Quirrell’s eyes slid over to him, frowning patiently. “I toldyou, magic is only for emergencies.”

“Yeah, and you’re thirsty! Sounds like an emergency to me,”Voldemort debated wisely, which brought a smile tugging to life on Quirrell’s mouth.He reached over and picked up the bottle to take a long swig, then held it outto Voldemort.

“You should drink some, too. Dehydration seems like anundignified way to go for a Former Dark Lord,” Quirrell teased.

Voldemort felt some of the tension in the car beginning to lift.He took the bottle, drank some, and then returned it to a cup-holder. “Worsethan getting killed by a two-year-old?”

Quirrell gave a decisive hum. “No, not quite.”

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Maybe when you let yourselflive it down.”

“That’s fair.” Voldemort reached over to pluck one of his handsfrom the wheel. Quirrell gave it willingly, and Voldemort brought it to hislips to kiss. “Sorry I’ve been such an ass, Squirrel.”

“I haven’t exactly helped,” Quirrell tried to say, but Voldemortheld up a hand to stop him.

“Quirrell—”

“No, I never should have suggested this stupid road trip. I justwanted some fresh air after—eh-everything that’s happened, so I—”

“Quirrell.” Voldemort squeezed his hand, trying to convince himto calm down before he got too bent out of shape. He heard the unspoken words, andthey stung Voldemort deep to his core. Ijust wanted some fresh air after spending so much time in Azkaban. He felta pang of guilt, which he stifled with another hard kiss to Quirrell’s hand.

“Listen, man. I—” But before Voldemort could carry on, a loudclap of thunder rumbled through the car. Quirrell pulled his hand away so hecould roll up his window, and Voldemort mirrored him. Just in time, too. A fewdrops of water splashed onto his arm as the rain came down hard.

“Where did this even come from? The weather said there wasn’tsupposed to be any rain!” said Quirrell, marveling at the sudden downpour.

“I can’t even see the road,’” Voldemort murmured, squintingthrough the downpour.

“Neither can I. I’m going to pull over.” Quirrell sighed,sounding disappointed as he steered the car off the road and put it into park.Voldemort watched as Quirrell put his face in his hands and leaned against thesteering wheel. “I’m suh-suh-sorry,Voldemort! I never should’ve suh-suh-suh—”

“Hey, calm down! It’s okay!” Voldemort reached over and pulledat Quirrell’s wrists. Quirrell resisted him only for a moment, and then he wasgripping Voldemort’s hands in pale, shaky grasps. “Quirrell, you don’t have anythingto apologize for!”

“Yuh-yes I duh-do! I juh-juh-just wanted to spend some tuh-tuh—”

“I wanted to spend time with you too! That’s what we’re doing,right? Neither one of us have apparated the hell away from each other, so I’dcall that a start!”

“Wuh-well, one of us can’tapparate, so—”

“Even if I could, I’d still stay right here in his hot as fuck car and sweat my balls off just tobe with you. Don’t you remember, Quirrell? You’re home. Okay?”

Quirrell gave him a watery smile and nodded. “Wonderful.”

“Good. Now, what do you say we cool off a bit, huh? I bet thatrain feels great.”

Quirrell laughed, grabbing Voldemort’s arm before he could reachfor the door handle. He looked back at his Squirrel and wondered how he’d evergotten so lucky. He’d never imaginedhe could be capable of loving somebody somuch, but then he saw Quirrell’s smile and didn’t think it would have everbeen possible to not to fall in lovewith him.

“Voldemort,” Quirrell began, still chuckling, “we’re in the middle of a thunderstorm, and you wanna stop and feelthe rain?”

“Why not? I’ve spent my whole life making evil plans. I’m readyto enjoy the simple life now. Smell the roses. Raise a few kids. Feel the rain.”Voldemort shrugged a little, fingers closed around the door handle.

Quirrell was staring at him strangely, a weird smile on hisface. Voldemort tried to go back over all that he’d said, and the moment herealized was when Quirrell murmured, “You really mean that, Voldemort?”

Voldemort looked at the open expression on Quirrell’s face, atthe hope and pure devotion that Voldemort knewhe didn’t deserve, and swallowed his nerves. “Yeah. Yeah, I mean that.”

Quirrell’s ear-splitting grin was worth the vulnerability. Hepulled Voldemort close for a kiss, one that was sweaty and hot and sticky, andVoldemort loved every minute of it. He kept trying to pull Quirrell closeruntil, with a noise of excitement, Quirrell shoved him away.

“Come on! I’ve always wanted to kiss somebody in the rain.”

Voldemort raised an eyebrow, trying in vain to pull him back. “That’sa thing?”

“Yeah, it’s a thing! It’s a romantic thing. We have to be clichéand romantic, Voldemort! Get out of the car.”

Voldemort, laughing, followed Quirrell out into the rain,feeling the refreshing droplets cascade onto his face and arms. He didn’t understandhow rain could be so fucking warm, buthe quickly forgot about that when Quirrell, beaming, pulled him close to showhim that, yes, kissing in the rain was definitely romantic.

And something worth repeating.

#quirrellmort #quirrelmort #starkid #avpm #thank you so muuuuuch!#sorry this took so long #professor-quirrell

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snowbazzle-dazzle · 6 years

Text

85 questions tag game

I was tagged by @carryonmylovelies and @imdisturbedaskanyone (the peer pressure got to me)

Update: this is also vv out of date now

— What was your last…

1. Drink: milk

2. Phone call: my friend Jason

3. Text message: “MY HEART... IS EMPTY... WITHOUT... DOG” (to a friend who just got a new puppy and got tired of sending me pictures)

4. Song you listened to: Piano Man by Billy Joel

5. Time you cried: lmao last week

6. Dated someone twice: no

7. Kissed someone and regretted it: nope!

8. Been cheated on: nop

9. Lost someone special: yes

10. Been depressed: i think so, but we never got a medical diagnosis so i can’t be sure, and i’m all better now!

11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: i’m not a puker

— Fave colours

12. Blue

13. Green

14. Silver

— in the last year have you…

15. Made new friends: o yeah

16. Fallen out of love: love is a strong word but KIND OF

17. Laughed until you cried: YEAH

18. Found out someone was talking about you: no!

19. Met someone who changed you: yes

20. Found out who your friends are: kind of?

21. Kissed someone on your facebook friends list: non

— General

22. How many of your facebook friends do you know irl: all except for one (that’s u @dorky-hufflepuff 😉)

23. Do you have any pets: yes!! a cat and a bunny!

24. Do you want to change your name: no

25. What did you do for your last birthday: well i was supposed to meet up with a friend (who made me a cake) and spend the day together, but we both got lost walking to each other’s houses (we were supposed to meet somewhere along the way) and so instead we just wandered around with a whole ass cake for 2 hours👌 do not be alarmed, we DID eventually find each other and eat the cake

26. What time did you wake up today: 6:20 am kill me

27. What were you doing at midnight last night: reading a book

28. What is something you can’t wait for: a sleepover with (the same friend) Jason this saturday!

30. What are you listening to right now: nothinggg

31. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: yes, but it was short for thomas ... i’m still counting it tho fucc that

32. Something that’s getting on your nerves: what?? colour??? is?? a?? mirror??

33. Most visited website: GOOGLE SAyS IT’S ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN ASJIEODJ

34. Hair colour: dark blonde

35. Long or short hair: long

36. Do you have a crush on someone: oui oui mon ami (i literally have a crush on like,,, 3 people,,, at all times,,, but always one more than the other side-crushes)

37. What do you like about yourself: i can balance two separate eggs on two separate spoons for an impressive amount of time

38. Want any piercings: no im not about that life

39. Blood type: i honestly have no idea??

40. Nicknames: maria but pronounced more like “merie-yuh”.

41. Relationship status: single and too terrified of other ppl to mingle ;)

42. Sign: leo

43. Pronouns: she/her

44. Fave tv show: none, it’s been 100 years since i last watched tv

45. Tattoos: yes i AM about that life

46. Right or left handed: Right

47: Ever had surgery: non

48. Piercings: only the ears

49. Sport: figure skating

50. Vacation: im not sure what this question means but yeah

— More general

52. Eating: this is a loaded question for me

53. Drinking: bleach

54. I’m about to watch: my life go up in flames

55. Waiting for: the weekend

56. Want: the hecking Aristotle and Dante sequel to come out already

57. Get married: eventually, i hope so! but the actual relationship is more important than the title, so if my partner had something against getting married for some reason, i wouldn’t be too torn up.

58. Career: OOF IM SO TORN BETWEEN DIFFERENT FIELDS THERE ARE TOO MANY OPTIONS MAN

— Which is better

59. Hugs or kisses: HUGS

60. Lips or eyes: Eyes

61. Shorter or taller: Taller

62. Older or younger: Older

63. Nice arms or stomach: Arms

64. Hookup or relationships: Relationship

65. Troublemaker or hesitant: Troublemaker bc im hesitant so how the heck is that gonna work

— Have you ever

66. Kissed a stranger: nope

67. Drank hard liquor: uuMMMM DONT CALL THE POLICE ON ME

68.Turned someone down: yeah

69. Sex on first date: NO

70: Broken someone’s heart: i really hope not but idk?

71. Had your heart broken: yeah

72. Been arrested: nope

73. Cried when someone died: yes

74. Fallen for a friend: NERVOUS LAUGHTER

— Do you believe in

75. Yourself: this is such a situational question. i’d say i believe in myself about 60% of the time.

76. Miracles: no

77. Love at first sight: ok so there’s a whole SCIENCE to how this works, and i’ve looked into it in depth, but short answer: no. “love at first sight” is actually a complex primal attraction that isn’t controllable by the mind, but by ur hormones. sorry man.

78. Santa Claus: are u telling me there’s a chance he’s not real

79. Angels: nop

— Misc

80. Eye colour: Brown

81. Best friends name: i don’t have,,, A Best Friend,,,i have multiple close friends,,, but my closest is probably jason

82. Favourite movie: Amadeus

83. Favourite actor: Ezra Miller

84. Favourite cartoon: WAYSIDE

85. Favourite teacher’s name: my homie mr. papah (short for papafilipakis but that too long so we just say MR PAPAH OK)

Tag 20 people

if you want to do it, feel free to consider urself tagged, but i’ve already tagged people in at least one thing this week and i dont want to get on everyone’s nerves!

#tag meme #thank you for tagging me!#(i wasnt gonna do this but like i said i got peer pressured from the second tag)#not snowbaz #personal #im so sorry if u have to scroll through this on ur dash

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suddenly-n-octopus · 6 years

Note

I would like to see answers for all. :3

For you? Always.flower crown: when did you last sing to yourself? “Please dont throw your looooove away–please dont throw your loooooove away”

fairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know? If she would ever chose to be with me.

daisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life? I dont have one. I dont even know what that is.

1975: what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?My best friend and I talking about our fears in meeting each other finally. They turned out to be the same for her and after all this time i was surprised she still felt the same way. It may not happen but it felt good that she still considered the idea.(that context though)

matte: if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? Yes.

black nail polish: do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things? Make a popular selling video game. Turn said videogame into an on-going multi seasoned series/anime. Own an Owl.

pantone: describe a person close to your life in detail. She calls herself a panda,she loves books and chocolate. Dawson’s creek and gilmore girls are her go to shows. She can get tunnel vision when she gets angry. She hates her middle name with a passion. Shes a pyromaniac. Opal is one of her all time favorite stones. She cant dance. Can hold her liquor for a while. She has been an author, violinist, jeweler, carpenter, mechanic, pharmacy tech, and now a dispatcher. She’s tired.

moodboard: do you feel you had a happy childhood? I sorta didnt.

stars: when did you last cry in front of another person? Thanksgiving

plants: pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them.My best friend, ironically she lives in an area where the sky could be seen without the city lights interfering. I mean…its stargazing, you’d want someone you love to be with you to watch them right? we’d look at the stars and talk about them and their meanings..or rather what we thought would be their meanings with me mostly making terrible jokes.

converse: would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them?Yes

lace: when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you? Um. *waits* its 3a.m. now so ..you. You are a kind friend to me. I am grateful.

handwriting: if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom? Thats easy, i say it to myself daily when i think about this question. To my best friend: I love you for until always.

cactus: what is your opinion on brown eyes? Underrated and beautiful. FUCK.

sunrise: pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally. “That doesnt go there” -story of my life.

oil paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far? HA.. “That doesnt go there”

overalls: what would you do with one billion dollars? Thats a long one, first id go see my best friend..give her family money, pay mine and my mother’s bills, buy a place for my mom and sis, then buy a place for me, get a transplant for my kidney and pancreas, buy some waffles, pay for my sister’s college.

combat boots: are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way? I am not.

winged eyeliner: write a hundred word letter to your twelve year old self Save your money. Find her.Go to the doctor as much as possible. find her. listen and remember what grandaddy is teaching you. show him that you arent a waste of his knowledge. find her. say yes when the time comes. dont let friendship ruin your chance to finish. find her dammit. fucking find her. keep up with all of your games, dont trust anyone where you leave them. tell uncle joe you love him. tell tiffany that you like her too. but find her. watch the tribe more and find her. dont let them get to you. you arent trying to be white. you are being yourself because thats how you were raised. find her please.

.pastel: would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel? Pastel probably.

tattoos: how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain i love tattoos and would lke to get some of my own but i dont heal well anymore. i think they express a lot about yourself and what you love.

.piercings: do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not? Nah…i mean..should i??? my lashes are all natural honey :o

bands: talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way. I dont have a song that has affected my life.

messy bun: the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them. Chaos is inevitable, all men must die.

cry baby: list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel.Never been to one QQ

grunge: who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?Irina, a friend of mine who disappeared some years ago. She promised me that she wouldnt do so and…i havent gotten over that so the letter would be telling me where she is and if she is okay. I miss her.

space: do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised? I have a fold out table where my laptop sits. Not organized.

white bed sheets: what is your night time routine? I dont have a set routine for anything in my life. I never seem to maintain a schedule. so it varies.

old books: what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know? That i used to watch their porn that they stashed away terribly.

beaches: if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why? my hair is short so a dark blue, i like blue but green is my favorite.

eyes: pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do? five people? huff i have to know five people. *waves the thought* we’d go to the beach!!! my best friend hasnt been to one since she was a kid so definitely her, my only guy friend and his girl..thats three…uh…oh my guy friends girl’s friend…and uh…this is hard since none of who i am talking about actually lives anywhere near me or within a 1000 miles.

11:11: name three wishes and why you wish for them. goodness. um. to be healthy–no more health issues, my body functions normally and everything works. thats probably two wishes. so the last one would be..i wish that i was successful.

painting: what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up.I once went as a disco guy. yuh, my best costume ever.

lightning: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high? texted my best friend over some issues we were having…again. *cough*

thunder: what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars? Kill innocent people

storms: you on only listen to one song for the rest of your life, or only see one person for the rest of your life. which and why?my best friend. because i love her more than anything and anyone. I would rather see her for the remainder of my life than what the world has to offer.

love: have you ever fallen in love? describe what it feels like to realise you’re in love.I have, I am. the feeling is like knowing that you are getting something you really want and its coming to you, that anticipation of it getting there and you having it, but the anticipation is a constant. it wells withing stomach and rises into your chest but never out of your mouth or body, it just stays there.

clouds: if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair? I keep black, gun metal grey and warm grey nail polish at all times.

coffee: what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone? caramel macchiato and im rather trusting of anyone really.

marble: what is the most important thing to you in your life right now? my best friend.

#ask me #ask me stuff #woe #physickfawn

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buckyscrystalqueen · 7 years

Text

Other World Love: Part 3

Pairings: Bucky x Reader (SPN Crossover)

Warnings: Swearing I think

Word Count: 7,349

Part 1 / Part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well if it isn’t my good pal, Loki.” Crowley called out as the three of you walked out of the bunker.

“Of course you know him.” You groaned as you looked up at the two Gods that had joined the rest of the Avengers in front of the bunker. You heard everyone else in the group groan as the two trouble makers caught up and you quickly locked the door to the bunker, pausing for only a moment to listen to all of the different locks settle into place.

“Enough, Loki, we are here for one thing and one thing only.” Thor said as you and Bucky walked over. Crowley held up his finger with a smug smirk.

“Actually with him here only THEY will need your assistance.” Crowley looked back at you for only a moment before he headed toward the Gods. “Enjoy purgatory, kitten. See you on the other side.” You, Thor and Steve lurched into action as Crowley reached out toward Loki but before any of you could get to him, Crowley simply touched Loki’s arm, snapped and disappeared. Loki’s smile fell instantly when he realized the demon had left him behind and he began to grumble as Thor glared at you.

“We must leave now. I don’t want him out of his cell longer than necessary after that.” Bucky grabbed your hand and the two of you nearly ran the short distance to the center of the circle that had been burned into the ground in front of the bunker. You could barely register the Avenger’s halfhearted well wishes and shouts of good byes as the excitement of finally going home made your heart race. “Hold on to me.” Thor instructed you. You began to turn toward the God before Bucky spun you to his chest and lifted you off the ground.

“I’ve got her.” Bucky said protectively as you wrapped your arms and legs around him and he held you tight to his broad chest. You heard Loki laugh as was forced to grab ahold of Bucky’s arm. You barely had enough time to grab ahold of the straps of the duffle and register the idea that this was all going really fast when you were suddenly airborne. You could feel Bucky stiffen beneath you as a literal rainbow tunnel of light surrounded your bodies and you couldn’t help but giggle and pull yourself closer to him.

“This is insane!” You nearly shouted in his ear as the Earth zipped away beneath your feet. He didn’t say a word in response and you began to worry slightly until everything suddenly went black. You felt completely weightless for a moment and you felt Bucky cling to you even tighter as gravity kicked back in and the world around you exploded in a burst of color.

“Nearly there.” Thor shouted and you felt Bucky dip his head against your shoulder at the same time as you landed on hard ground. “Heimdall, they need to go to purgatory on Earth now; see to it.” Thor demanded without another word to you as he dragged a now struggling Loki toward an archway. Bucky stood up a little straighter as the arch you had just come through began to shift from a bright rainbow color to a deep grey.

“Can we never do that again?” Bucky asked and you leaned back to look at his very pale face. You smiled and giggled.

“We got one more baby. Try saying the alphabet backwards over and over again.”

“Step through.” Heimdall said as he gestured toward the now grey arch. You could feel Bucky groan as he hiked you up in his arms a little and headed for the arch.

“I hate space travel.” He groaned as he stepped into the arch and suddenly you felt like you were falling. You let out a slight squeak, squeezed your eyes closed and clung to Bucky tighter as his arms crushed around your waist. It took almost a full minute of freefalling before you finally felt a jolt as Bucky landed upright on hard ground.

“Are you (Y/N) Winchester?” a voice asked from behind you. Bucky put you down quickly and you spun around in front of him to come face to face with three monsters.

“Depends on who’s asking.” You replied as you pulled out your angel blade and another knife from your jacket. The werewolf in front of you smiled wickedly to show off his teeth and clucked his tongue.

“So the rumors were true. Baby Winchester has decided to follow in big brother’s footsteps.” The three men lunged at you and you reacted taking off two of their heads almost instantly before impaling the one who spoke in the chest.

“Y’all have underestimated Baby Winchester.” You said with a smile as you plunged your knife into his skull. The body dropped to the ground and pulled your knives out it.

“How did you do that?” Bucky asked with a chuckle as you stood up and you took a look around and shrugged before turning and reaching for the duffle.

“Years and years of practice. They will be a lot easier to kill down here but since word is apparently already out that I’m here, we gotta find Benny and get the hell out of here quick. We have a huge target on our back.” Bucky nodded as the two of you loaded up with knives and blades. “Just kill everything you see except me and a Cajun vamp.”

“What, you don’t want to go toe to toe with me?” He asked as he slung the duffle back onto his shoulder so the strap rested across his chest and you gave him a half mouth smirked as you stood up and spun the two angel blades you chose to work with in your hands.

“Darlin’ you may be super strong but you underestimate how quick I am on my feet.” He laughed as the two of you headed into purgatory to find the family friend who was going to get you back to your brothers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat on a thick log by the fire keeping watch with your back to the only water source you had so far and you sighed as your eyes frantically danced through the dark woods surrounding you.

“We are going to find him tomorrow, babe.” Bucky said and you looked down to where he was supposed to be sleeping against the log right next to you. You had been in purgatory a week and neither of you had gotten much sleep as you unsuccessfully searched for Benny and your way out.

“Yea, well he better pray I find him sooner over later because I am at the point where I want to start filleting…”

“Well now honeychile, that ain’t no way ta go thankin’ the man that’s suppose ta help ya.” A thick familiar Louisiana accent said from the brush off to your left. You head whipped in that direction and you scowled despite the smile that spread across your face.

“Yea well, you know if you keep a Winchester waitin’ we get a little stab happy.” Benny laughed as Bucky scooted to sit up next to you protectively. You could tell he didn’t like the fact that he was on the far side of you and you reached down and put your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “You dealt with Dean so you should know that by now.” Benny smiled as he finally emerged from the shadows with a giant handmade blade of his own.

“Well (Y/N) I cain’t say it’s good ta see ya heyah.” He claimed as you stood up a bit to give your friend a hug.

“Like wise but I appreciate you helping us out. Benny this is... my boyfriend?” You said questioningly as you sat back down and you peered at Bucky. He glanced up at you, shrugged as he pursed his lips slightly then nodded at the title. “Yea… boyfriend, Bucky. Babe, this would be the pain in the ass we have been looking for for the past week.”

“Awe mon cher! Yuh found luv… ‘bout time one o’ yuh Winchesters found yuhselfs a beau.” He shook Bucky’s hand and sat down on the ground across the fire.

“Yea well I had to go to a whole different world to find him.” You said as you looked down at Bucky once more. You could see his slight blush through the dirt on his cheeks as he looked up at you with a smile and you smiled back before getting back to business. “So portal; how far away is it and is it still there? Please tell me I can get the hell out of hell soon because I miss my freaking bed!” The men laughed with you and Benny nodded.

“Portal’s only a days walk; been since day yuh touched down. Purgatory ain’t likin’ live ‘n’s. It’ll pop open like it did fer yuh brotha.”

“You’re 100% sure it’s going to be there?” Bucky asked and Benny nodded.

“Yessa, I’m sure. Been dead down heyah fuh yeaahs ‘n I pay close ‘ttention to shit ‘round heyah. I made Dean a promise ta get his baby sistah home and I’mma man a my word.”

“So we leave when the sun rises?” You ask as you looked toward the sound of a tree branch breaking in the direction Benny had just come from.

“Yes ma’am.” Benny said as he jumped up and stalked toward another vamp that came running out of the woods. You didn’t move at all as the two men struggled for a minute before Benny decapitated the man. “Best ta get yuh outta heyah fast.” He said as he tossed the severed head into the river behind you. You swallowed a bit and shook your head at your next question as Benny sat back down.

“Am I giving you a hike out?” The vamp remained silent for a moment as he watched the fire before he slowly shook his head.

“’fraid I don’t belong up der no more, (Y/N). No mattah how much I wan’ be down da bayou, I ain’t wanna put y’all in da same spot to haf ta send me back down the crick when I fly crook’.” You could see the pain in his eyes and you nodded as your heart went out to the vamp in front of you.

“He’d be proud of you.” You said softly and Benny shrugged.

“I ain’t doin’ much ta be proud ’a, honeychile.” You both dropped the conversation and you scooted yourself down the log to close your eyes.

“Got eyes for a bit? We haven’t gotten much sleep.” Benny nodded and shifted around the dwindling fire as Bucky threw his metal arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side. He placed a quick kiss on your forehead as you got as comfortable as you could and you could feel him smile against your skin.

“We’re going home tomorrow.” He said softly and you smiled and kissed his chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It felt like you had just closed your eyes when Bucky was gently shaking you awake. You groaned and stretched in the dirt as Benny kicked dirt over the fire.

“If I never sleep on the ground again it will be too soon.” You grumbled as you grabbed your angel blades and the duffle from the ground.

“It isn’t that bad babe. Just like war conditions.” Bucky said as he gathered his knives and Dean’s blade.

“Yea well I guess it’s good thing I’m a girl and won’t be going to war then because this sleeping on the ground shit blows.”

“I feel ya on that sistah.” Benny said as he picked up his blade and headed toward the portal. The hike through purgatory to your exit took nearly all day; only running into a dozen or so monsters that were dead set determined to go after the youngest Winchester despite the fact that you were traveling with two protectors. By the time the sun had started to set, you began to feel the pull of your brother once again and you knew you were getting close. As you came up to a ridge, you could hear the activity picking up and Benny turned to you.

“Head up dat ridge there an’ be quick na; I’ll hold’m off.” You nodded and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Bucky pushed you toward the rocky mountain just as monsters began to almost pour out of the woods.

“Go baby go!” Bucky demanded as the two of you scrambled toward the blue hole that appeared above your head as the shouts of dying monsters and Benny’s loud taunting and encouragement rang out from below you over the loud winds that picked around you. You suddenly began to panic as the portal began to apparently swirl faster and you forced yourself to climb quicker. Every sore and tired muscle in your body screamed in protest as your boyfriend nearly dragged you the last 5 feet toward home. When you finally reached the top of the ridge, you glanced back over the edge.

“Thanks Benny!” You shouted as Bucky grabbed your hand and the two of you stepped into the portal. You were instantly surrounded by a blinding white light as the winds picked up even more then suddenly you were plunged into an almost deafening silence. The two of you looked around the woods you found yourself for a second before Bucky finally spoke as he held his blade out in front of him.

“Did it work?” He asked and you shrugged.

“Cas?” You called out tentatively and you both jumped as the angel appeared in front of you. You dropped both your angel blades and threw yourself at him with a burst of ecstatic giggles.

“Let’s get you home, (Y/N).” Cas said. You nodded and took a step back. Bucky handed you your blades and pulled you into his side. Cas stood in front of you, gave you a small smile and you wrapped your arms around Bucky’s waist and held your breath as Cas touched both of your foreheads. You felt slightly weightless for only a blink of an eye before you came to a stop in the library of the bunker.

“Sam!” You shouted as you pulled yourself away from Bucky and the two of you started dropping a barrage of weapons on the table. “Dean! You two idiots better have pizza!”

“Here’s to hoping because I’m starving!” Bucky said as he realized it had been a while since either of you had eaten. You could hear the loud stomping of boots echoing through the bunker and you spun toward the sound just as Sam rounded the corner. You let out a laughed sob as you dashed across the room and jumped into your twin’s arms.

“I vote no more fucking witches for a while, sound good?” He teased as he put you down and you nodded as you moved to give Dean a hug.

“I vote you assholes quit using me as bait to test new theories on inter-world travel. I think Bucky would appreciate never having to ride that rainbow elevator again.” You said as you stepped back and looked at your boyfriend. “Alright, official introduction time; Sam and Dean Winchester, I am pleased to introduce you to Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky. And I want the official record to show that no one in this house will ever be speaking Russian for any reason whatsoever.” The three men chuckled as the shook hands and Dean smiled and clapped his hands together.

“Alright, you two go shower because no offense but you freaking stink. I’m gunna run into town and get pizza…”

“And I stocked a bunch of ice cream in the freezer and there is a bag of chocolates and Swedish fish and gummy bears in your room.” Sam said as he started collecting knives off the table.

“Come get us in my room when the pizza gets here.” You called out as you grabbed Bucky’s hand.

“Wait, hold on! He’s not staying in your room!” Dean called after you. Bucky chuckled as you paused in the door way and looked at your older brother.

“You really think you are going to stop the man with the metal arm and super human strength and your sister from being together?” You challenged and Sam laughed as Dean frowned. “Yea… that’s what I thought.”

“I’m a respectable gentleman, I promise.” Bucky said as he pushed you toward the bathroom and you squealed as he swept you up over his shoulder and carried you the rest of the way down the hall.

“This isn’t over, young lady!” Dean called out as the two of you headed into the bathroom and your reply to him was lost by the bathroom door shutting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You leaned against the door of the Impala with Bucky lying in between your legs, only half listening to Dean go on and on about hunt safety while you slowly pulled your boyfriend’s long hair into a bun. You were starting to wonder if rolling your eyes multiple times in a short period of time could do serious brain damage when Bucky shifted his head to look up at you.

“Is he always this long winded?” he asked softly and you couldn’t help but giggle and nod as you wrapped a bright pink hair tie in his hair.

“I heard that.” Dean said and you shrugged as you continued to gently scratch your nails against Bucky’s scalp.

“Dean, you have literally said the same six things like fifteen different ways. We got it.” You claimed as you looked at your older brother in the rear view mirror.

“You may have it, but he hasn’t heard this before.” He retorted as he pointed at your boyfriend through the mirror. You rolled your eyes again and you thought you felt the muscles behind them strain a bit.

“Sam, make him shut up.” You wined as you continued to scratch at Bucky’s head and Sam looked up from his book.

“What am I doing?” He asked as he looked back and forth from your annoyed expression to Dean’s aggravated one. You and your older brother began talking at the same time and Sam held up his hands as Bucky began to chuckle.

“Alright, enough you two; (Y/N) stop… lay off and Dean… stop being annoying, I guess… I don’t know, work it out.” You groaned at his lack of help and Dean scowled slightly as the GPS tells him to make a turn down the road the old asylum was on.

“You’re so annoying.” You whined as you pushed Bucky gently off your lap.

“Well that’s how you stay alive.” Your jaw dropped as you gestured to Bucky. “Hello? Super soldier for a boyfriend. Think I’m gunna be just fine without your nitpicking.” Dean scowled as he stopped in front of the asylum and put Baby into park.

“Fine. You and the super soldier can go one way and Sammy and I will go the other. Ghost counts at the end and loser has to do winners laundry for a month.”

“Remember, I like my delicates hand washed and my laundry now includes his too so you have fun with that.” You said as you pushed open the car door and got out of the car.

“I’m guessing this is normal?” Bucky asked Sam as he got out of the car behind you. Your twin nodded.

“They bicker harder than my dad and I used to. You get used to it.”

“That’s cuz she’s a pain in the ass.” Dean said as he joined the rest of you at the trunk. You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out and pinching his arm like a child. Before Dean could retaliate, Sam grabbed you around the waist and moved you to his other side.

“Stay.” He said as he pointed his finger at you. You saw Dean peek his head around Sam and smile victoriously.

“Dick.” You grumbled as you grabbed a container of salt and a tire iron and handed them back to Bucky.

“Cry baby.” Dean mocked.

“I will hit both of you with this tire iron.” Sam said as he held it up between the two of you before passing it to you. “You’ve been back less than a day and you’re both already annoying the shit out of me again.” You shrugged as you grabbed another container of salt.

“Yes, but you love us all the same. Keep him honest on his count, Sam.” You said as you headed toward the front door with Bucky at your side.

“Why do you let him get to you?” He chuckled. You simply smiled as you stopped at the padlocked door to wait for your brothers.

“It’s not that he gets to me it’s more like we have been in each other’s back pockets for nearly 30 years and we have nothing better to do any more. So we pick. It’s only turned into a physical altercation once…”

“Which you cheated on.” Dean said as he used his bolt cutters to cut the chain.

“We do it out of love.”

“Which is also why I say you get used to it.” Sam said as the chain fell to the ground. Dean tossed the bolt cutters back toward the car and took his tire iron from Sam.

“Losers go right?” Dean snarked as he pushed open the door. You shoved your brother to the right and stuck your tongue out at him as you and Bucky headed toward the left. The four of you were looking for a single china doll that had a single spirit tethered to it. That spirit, however had a couple dozen others trapped with it and they were all supposedly trapped in this building.

“It’s too quiet.” You said after a few minutes of walking down the halls and not seeing a single spirit. “Something’s not right.”

“So what does that mean?” Bucky asked as you turned down yet another hallway. You shook your head as you started searching rooms for anything at that point.

“I don’t know. This doesn’t seem like a place that is haunt… Shit!” You said as you glanced through a door and came face to face with Crowley. You leapt back and scowled as the King of Hell snapped the door away.

“You should have gone right, kitten.” He said in a mocking sing-song voice. With a swipe of his hand, you and Bucky were thrown back against a wall and pinned in place. Crowley chuckled as he pulled a comic book out of his jacket pocket. “I told you you would pay. I need to… take him off your hands .” He said as he flipped through the pages. Your heart stopped as you saw the cartoon version of your boyfriend on the pages. You screamed and fought against the invisible force to get free as Crowley cleared his throat and began shouting words you didn’t understand.

“желание.” (Longing)

“CAS!” You screamed as Bucky growled. The angel appeared before you and looked around confused.

“No, stop!” Bucky shouted as he fought against Crowley’s powers.

“ржавый” (Rusted)

“The boys are in the East wing; it was a trap! Get them out of here and come back for me!”

“Babe, go!” Bucky growled through his teeth and you shook your head as Cas disappeared.

“семнадцать” (Seventeen)

“I won’t let you turn!”

“рассвет” (Daybreak) Crowley shouted over you. Your stomach turned as Bucky nearly arched off the wall in pain. You could hear the plates of his metal arm scraping across the cinderblock behind him as his hands balled into fists.

“печь” (Furnace)

“James, stay with me!”

“Девять” (Nine) Cas finally popped up in front of you as Bucky finally fought against the force holding him to the wall. He fell to his knees on the floor and screamed as Crowley took a half step back.

“Доброкачественная” (Benign)

“I need to speak fluent Russian now!” You shouted at Cas over the torment screams of the soon to be Winter Soldier.

“Возвращение домой” (Homecoming) Cas looked at you stunned and you shook your head. “Now Cas!”

“один” (One) Cas reached up and touched his fingers to your forehead and you felt an ice cold chill rush through your head. He pulled away and nodded to you.

“грузовой автомобиль” (Freight car) You looked up at the word that you now understood as the room went quiet. Bucky… The Winter Soldier slowly stood up and looked straight ahead.

“Ready to comply.” He said in Russian. You saw Crowley smirk as he looked back at you.

“Hurt him.” You shouted fluently; the words sounding so foreign to you. You watched Crowley’s face drop as he looked toward the soldier. The Winter Soldier charged and grabbed the demon by the throat and threw him against the wall with such force, the wall crumbled and Crowley slammed into the ground one room over. With the snap of his fingers he disappeared and you collapsed to the ground. “Wait.” Bucky looked over at you to wait for your next instruction and you looked at Cas.

“Can you cure him if I try to do the reprogramming?” You asked.

“I have no idea but now is as good of time as any to try.” You nodded as you looked back at Bucky and sighed.

“OK. Go tell the boys to meet us at the bunker. We gotta get him to the dungeon and try I guess.” The flutter of wings signaled his exit and you looked at Bucky.

“You're going to be OK, soldier.” You said to him in his programed language. His brow furrowed ever so slightly as you walked up to him slowly to test the waters. “Close your eyes and count to 20 slowly.” He gave you a small nod and began counting in Russian as Cas came back into the hall. With a small nod, you grabbed Bucky’s shirt and held on tight as Cas sent the three of you back to the bunker. As Bucky finished counting, you pointed to the chair.

“Sit down and wait for further instructions. Do not move, do not speak. Sit.” You felt terrible for having to control him like this but you had no other option. As he sat down on the chair, you grabbed ropes and chains and held them in front of Cas. He used his grace to secure Bucky as tight as physically possible to the chair and ground. Once he was satisfied, he stepped to the side and nodded.

“General reprograming is telling him the exact opposite of what he currently believes is real. This is gunna take a while. I’m sorry, it won’t be pretty.” You nodded as tears welled in your eyes. You kneeled down on the floor just out of reach and in Russian, said the first thing you could think of to bring your boyfriend back.

“Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. I call you Bucky and you are my boyfriend. The Winter Soldier program is done. The words longing, benign, freight car, seventeen, one, furnace, day break, nine, homecoming and rusted no longer mean anything to you. You no longer work for Hydra. You are not a killer. You are free.” He continued to look straight a head as his brow furrowed and you nodded at Cas. He placed his finger tips to Bucky’s forehead and they began to glow bright blue. Suddenly, Bucky grit his teeth in pain and screamed as his whole body tensed; straining against the ropes and chains that held him down and you couldn’t stop the tears that poured from your eyes.

“Again.” Cas said gently as he pulled his hand away. You nodded and scooted forward ever so slightly as you repeated your statement. The process seemed to take forever, but every time, you thought you saw a little more ‘Bucky’ in the Winter Soldier’s eyes. It took Sam and Dean an well over hour to get back from the asylum but even when the came back, you refused to stop. At the five hour mark, as Cas removed his fingers, Bucky finally looked down at you.

“Again… in English.” He said softly as he stretched out his fingers to reach for you. You moved and kneeled right in front of him and started again as you held his hand.

“Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. I call you Bucky and… and I love you.” He stretched as far as he could to kiss you and you met him most of the way. You cupped his cheek in your palm and he pulled back to look at you.

“I love you, too doll. Keep going; I can hear you.” You nodded as you sat back on your heels and continued through your tears. As Cas placed his fingers on his forehead, you forced yourself to pull back, just incase.

“Few more times; it’s looking good.” Cas said as he pulled his hand back. You nodded as you took Bucky’s hand in yours and continued on. By the start of hour six, Cas believed from what he could see, the pair of you had successfully overridden the Winter Soldier program. You asked Cas to go and get Sam, knowing his pronunciation would be a little more reliable than Dean’s. As your brothers walked into the dungeon you stood up and stood along the wall.

“Alright. Time to try it.” You said as you stood next to Sam. You pulled him down to your level and whispered the Russian words in his ear one by one. You kept your eyes on Bucky, who only cringed on the final word but remained completely sane.

“I can understand what you’re saying but they don’t physically hurt anymore.” He said as you stood back and looked at him. You huffed a laughed and shook your head.

“Well how about that. The Winchester’s just managed to hijack a super soldier.” Dean said as you walked over and started untying and unchaining Bucky.

“Can we all agree that we should never consider doing this again?” You asked as you got one arm free. Bucky grabbed your wrist and pulled you onto his lap with a smile.

“Not gunna lie, listening to you speak Russian is kinda sexy.” You rolled your eyes as he gave you a chaste kiss and gently pushed you off his lap so you could finish.

“What the hell happened, anyways? ‘Cause we were just looking for spirits before Cas came and told us we had to leave because you two were in trouble.” Dean asked as he began to help you. Cas waved his hands and the ropes and chains disappeared and both you and your brother startled a little bit at the suddenness.

“Crowley happened.” You said as you helped Bucky up. “And I’m gunna kill him for it.”

“He had a comic book. Read off the words that snapped me into the Winter Soldier.”

“I had Cas teach me Russian while Crowley was distracted and commandeered him before Crowley could do damage.” You said as you headed into the kitchen to get something to eat and drink. “Buck sent Crowley flying through a wall before he tucked tail and disappeared.”

“Can you remember it?” Sam asked as he helped Bucky, who was a little weak, to sit down at the table. He nodded as you slid him a glass of water.

“It’s kind of like a dream but I remember it.” He finished his water in two gulps and looked at Cas across the table. “Thank you. I don’t know how you did that but I can almost feel a weight lifted off my shoulders now.”

“It was absolutely nothing. Basic reprograming we would have done in heaven.” Bucky nodded with a small shrug.

“I also forget you’re an angel sometimes. I’m still not used to that.” You and your brothers laughed as you took a seat on Bucky’s knee.

“It took us a bit too. You’ll get used to it. Now, we have to deal with Crowley… again.” Dean said with a groan.

“Yea, after a nap please? My knees are killing me.”

“So that means no blow job?” Bucky asked you in Russian. You blushed as Cas hid his face. Sam looked at you quizzically as if he partially understood what you were saying but couldn’t place all of it.

“Nap first. I’ll blow you later.” You responded with a giggle.

“Whoa! I thought we said no Russian?!” Dean snapped as Cas said a hasty good bye and flew off. You shrugged with a knowing smile as you got up and pulled Bucky along after you.

“I changed my mind now that I can speak it fluently. Sorry bro.”

“So not fair!”

“You should have the angel teach him Russian. That way when I choose to tell you in detail what I plan on doing to you in bed, he’ll learn real fast that it’s probably for the best we are speaking in Russian.” You laughed as you headed out of the kitchen away from Dean’s protests and nodded.

“Sweet torture from a little sister. One one hand he has no idea what I’m saying and it drives him nuts and the other…”

“He knows how crazy you drive me in bed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you guys want for dinner?” You asked as you walked into the library and looked at the three men. Bucky was helping Sam translate a Japanese lore book your twin had found years ago in the library as Dean played a game on his phone.

“I don’t know. Let’s just go out. I’m sick of this place.” Dean said as he tossed his phone on the table. “We need a case or something.” Out of no where, a voice you recognized called out through out the bunker.

‘Initializing Stark technology dimensions program.’

You stepped further into the room as Tony, Natasha and Steve walked into the library.

“So you’re hijacking our bunker now?” Dean asked as he stood up from the table.

“Checking in on our friend.” Steve said as looked over at Buck.

“He’s been reprogramed… if that’s what you’re getting at.” You said as you took a seat at the table across from your boyfriend. Your visitors all grabbed chairs and joined you.

“How did you manage that?” Nat asked as Dean sat down across from her. You could almost see him drooling out of the corner of your eye at her low cut, tight fitting suit and you bit your cheeks so not call him out on it.

“The angel. We had an incident where I got turned. (Y/N) learned Russian, commandeered me and her and Cas reprogramed me.”

“Ten bucks says they aren’t here just to check up on your well being.” You said in Russian as you looked at Bucky as if to prove a point.

“You’re right, we’re not.” Natasha responded as she crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair. You wanted to face-palm yourself for forgetting Natasha was raised in Russia as you looked up at the assassin and mimicked her posture.

“Then what do you need?” You asked.

“Can we do… whatever this is in English please?” Dean asked as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What do you need?” Bucky asked as he glanced between you and Natasha with a small smile on his face.

“Your demon friend is sending demons over to our world in an attempt to bring something back to yours.” Tony said. “And handling demons is a little outside our pay grade.”

“Son of a bitch.” “Oh, shit.” “Jesus Christ.” The three Winchesters grumbled in unison.

“Alright. We got it.” Dean said as he pushed back from the table.

“What do you plan on doing?” Steve asked as you stood up to grab summoning spell ingredients.

“Put an end to his petty bullshit. This is most likely between him and me.” You groaned as you stepped around Tony’s hologram and headed toward the stairs to get to the laboratory on the second floor.

“Is this because of the thing he asked me?” Bucky called after you. You nodded as you headed into the war room.

“Like I said… Мелкая чушь.” (petty bullshit) You heard Sam ask Bucky what Crowley said as you walked up the stairs and you sighed.

“He doesn’t belong in your world. He would have been much happier with me.” You heard Natasha say in Russian behind you as she followed you up the stairs.

“I guess it’s a good thing you don’t make the rules on what he does then, isn’t it?” You snapped.

“I could have fixed him, you know. He didn’t…” You spun on your heel in front of the lab door and pointed at her.

“Look, he made his choice to come back with me. You’re making it beyond obvious that you’re jealous that he chose me over you. Sorry to break it to ya, sweetheart but he did. Back off. Be grateful you’re a fucking hologram to me because I would shove your ass over the fucking balcony, you jealous bitch.” She growled and lunged at you, sailing through your body and landing hard on the floor behind you as footsteps ran up the stairs.

“Get her out of here, her jealous rage is showing.” You said to Steve and Dean as they turned down the hall. You dipped in to the lab as Natasha began screaming at you in Russian. You grabbed the things you needed quickly as her voice disappeared down the hallway. You rolled your eyes at the childishness of it all as the door opened behind you.

“You OK?” Sam asked softly and you shrugged as you began to hand him bottles of ingredients.

“She’s butt hurt he choose me over her. Boo hoo.” You said as you grabbed a bowl, threw some candles in it and headed out of the room. “We need to figure out a way to seal the doors in the other world.” You headed down stairs to see Steve talking to Dean and Bucky in the War Room with Natasha and Tony no where to be found.

“You OK?” Bucky asked you as headed down the stairs.

“You and I need to talk about why she is so jealous of the fact that you came back here with me. I’m assuming your dick has something to do with it.” You snapped in Russian as you walked past your boyfriend.

“My dick has nothing to do with it, thank you.” He retorted as the group followed you toward the dungeon. “Well, not directly at least. She wanted it, you got it. Simple as…”

“English, please!” Dean groaned you paused in front of the swinging cabinets.

“Shut up, De.” You grumped as he pulled the doors open. You watched a shiver of memories flood through Bucky and your brow furrowed. “You gunna be OK?” Your boyfriend looked up at you and nodded.

“Just… don’t leave me alone in here.” He said in Russian, to hide his slight weakness. You nodded as you stepped into the room. Sam quickly began to set up the summoning spell as Dean drew the necessary sigil on the floor and lit the candles. Steve watched in awe as your brothers mixed ingredients from memory for a spell the three of you had done so many times it was almost second nature. You stood over almost in front of Bucky, his flesh hand gripped tightly in yours as his metal hand rested on your hip.

“You’re gunna wanna be outside of the circle.” You said to Steve as you pointed to the devil’s trap on the ground. “Even though you’re in a different world who knows what this idiot is able to accomplish.” Cap nodded and took a side step out of the circle. He stood in between the metal shelves as Dean moved out of the circle and leaned back against the wall. Sam sat back on his heels and pulled his knife out of his pocket; slicing his palm and holding it above the bowl. As the blood dripped on top of the ingredients, you handed your twin a match book.

“Et ad congregandum...eos coram me.” Sam said as he dropped the match in the bowl. A puff of smoke filled the room and you sighed.

“What the bloody… bollocks.” Crowley said as he spun in the devil’s trap and looked at everyone.

“So what’ve you been up to, Crowley?” Dean said as he pulled his demon blade out of his back pocket and began spinning it between his fingers. Crowley crossed his arms over his chest.

“Nothing. Running hell…”

“Cut the shit, Crowley. We know you’re looking for something in the Marvel world.” Crowley glared at you and as quickly as he could, prattled off the words to turn Bucky into the Winter Soldier. You felt Bucky tense behind you as Steve began shouting. You glanced up at Bucky, prepared to quickly intervene if necessary as he relaxed when the words did nothing.

“Should I just pretend?” Bucky asked in Russian as he looked down at you and you snorted in a failed attempt to hold back your laughter.

“What do you want with the Winter Soldier?” Steve demanded as Crowley scowled at you and your boyfriend.

“That’s my personal…”

“It’s now ours. Your causing problems in other worlds; shit ends now.” Dean said as he walked forward with the demon blade gripped in his fist. “I don’t know what your issue is but cut it out.”

“I don’t know what your issue is…” Crowley mocked, childishly. Dean swung his arm out and cut Crowley across the cheek. The King’s eyes grew wide and he gasped.

“Well, I never!”

“Can it, Crowley. What do you want from Marvel?” Sam asked as Crowley looked at the tiny drop of blood on his fingertips. The demon rolled his eyes as he sat down on the chair.

“Nothing.”

“Oh, for the love of all things unholy…” You grumbled as you tilted your head up and looked at the ceiling. “We really don’t have all day and I’m perfectly content with simply exorcising you.” Crowley glared at you, challengingly.

“You wouldn’t…” You crossed your arms over your chest and cocked your eyebrow as a cocky smile spread across your face.

“You left my ass in purgatory for a week. Don’t tell me I wouldn’t.” Crowley continued to glare at you and you squinted your eyes at him. Your smile got even bigger when he looked away, indignantly. “Fine. Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus…”

“Alright!” He roared as he glared back at you. “I want him!” He said as he gestured to Bucky. “But since I can’t have him, I was looking for another similar to him.”

“There are no other super soldiers, Crowley.” Dean said as he threw his hands up in the air. “The other ones were killed in the comic books; didn’t you think to read first?”

“Seriously, De? You’re asking the King of Hell if he read comic books?” You said as you glanced over at your brother. He flipped you off but continued to look at Crowley.

“Well I realized that now, obviously.” Crowley said as he crossed his arms and legs. “You Winchesters always go and spoil the fun.”

“You’re an idiot.” You grumbled.

“Quit sending goons to the other world!” Sam demanded. “They will be prepared to kill everyone of them off from here on out including you.”

“Why do you always have to cause trouble, huh?” You asked as you gestured Steve out of the room to teach him how to handle the supernatural.

“You know you love me, kitten!” Crowley called after you as your brother’s finished up their chat.

“One of these days, I’m gunna send him through a wall… again.” Bucky said as he followed you back into the library.

“And, I’ll let you.”

#Bucky x Reader #Other World Love

20 notes · View notes

rustedsteele · 7 years

Note

I want to see what happened when Sephyr dies at the end of his long life! Who's surrounds him when he finally passes away? What does he take away from living?

The penthouse had been quiet that day. As yet Sephyr hadonly seen the nurse, checking in on his as she did every single morning. Hisshallow breathing served as the only sound in the room and in that moment hedesperately wished he could reach the radio by the window. He groaned slightlyat the thought of even trying to get up, his head lulling against the softpillow at the top of the hospital-grade bed. His cool blue eyes feel shut as hetook a long breath in. He hadn’t been sure until the week before that it wastime, but it most certainly was. He couldn’t walk on his own, this was no kindof life.

Sephyr Steele had made the decision a week ago to end hislife. He had first approached his long-time friend, Baxter and explained thatif he wasn’t able to get out of bed under his own power, he did not want tocontinue living. As if by instinct Baxter had tried to talk him out of it, butrelented at the sight of pain in the Rock Star’s eyes. He truthfully looked asthough he had already given up and in truth, he had. Eventually Baxter agree,allowing him to choose the way in which he would like to go. Sephyr opted foran overdose on his former drug of choice, as he did not qualify for assistedsuicide. Baxter agreed to allow it, if Sephyr could keep his name away from it.The Rock Star of course already had a source, so a date was set.

It was that morning that he had wondered to himself if hereally was ready. In only a few short moment his friends and family wouldarrive to say their good byes and Sephyr could feel the anxiety building in hischest at the thought. He had never been one for good byes. They did not sitwell with him. He knew of course that he owed this to them. At the very leasthe owed them the chance to say good bye to him. Closure for some, like Finn andBaxter. Those were the two he looked forward to the least. Despite the doubt,he knew he was indeed ready. Letting go now, on his terms. The best endingSephyr could have asked for.

As he thought to himself, he almost failed to notice thefront door opening. From where his bed had been moved he couldn’t see the door,but he suspected that it was the sound of Baxter letting everyone inside. Itwas about that time. He had sent out text messages, letting everyone know heneeded to see the ‘one last time’. Everyone of course knew that it meant. Hehad been kinder to Finn, explaining it in person. The twenty-one year old hadtaken it better than Sephyr had expected. His son knew that the old man wouldnever survive being bed ridden anyway. As the footsteps and low chatterapproached the door, he tipped the bed up into a sitting position, slightlyashamed of how weak he looked now.

The first figure to step through the open bedroom door wasof course Finn. The young sandy-blond man stepped up beside his father’s bed,leaning over to kiss his forehead. “Hey pop.” He muttered out, sadness clearlyringing through his tone. No one wanted to know that the moment they left,their parent was going to die. Truthfully, the Rock Star understood.

“Hey Kiddo.” He replied somewhat weakly, reaching over topat the younger man on the shoulder. “Gonna be alright?”

“About as alright as anyone here.” Finn explained, gesturingto the surprising crowd of people who had gathered around the bed. Some withmoderate success, being pushed to the fringe of the crowd. “Bet you didn’tthink everyone would show.”

“Seems silly.” Sephyr hummed. “All you fuckers takin’ timeout t’ come down an’ say good bye to this old ass washout.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Came a voice from the foot of the bed,and Sephyr glanced over to look at the source. Sawyer Thulus.

“Oh don’t worry. I will.” Sephyr laughed. Sawyer seemed muchless amused.

“Dude, are you for real? Don’t.” The security guard’s eyesmoved to the sheets at the end of the bed and very suddenly, Sephyr feltterrible.

“Sorry.” He muttered out as the rest of the group closed in.

“So how is this going to work.” The ever realistic voice ofBaxter came. “Because I’d hazard a guess that Sephyr would like to keep this abrief as possible.”

“I would.”

“Very good, sir. Please select someone to-“

“Baxter?” Sephyr interrupted.

“Sir?”

“If you could, because this is my last day and all, just-just not call me Sir?”

“Oh course, Mr. Steele.” The Valet said, a cheeky grin onhis face.

“You fuck.” Sephyr muttered. “Just for that you’re goingfirst.”

“As you say, Sephyr.” The reply was much warmer than hisobvious jab at his former employer. As the Valet stepped to the edge of thebed, Finn stepped aside. Sephyr intended to leave his son until last, becausehe had some very serious things to say to him. Although he did for Baxter aswell. The Valet sighed lightly, a hand moving to rest on his friend’s arm. “Ithas been good, hasn’t it?”

“In the end.” Sephyr said, taking a deep breath and movinghis hand to rest on top of Baxter’s. “There are so many things I wanna sayBax…. But there’s not enough time.” He watched the Valet nod knowingly. Some healready knew, of course. “I’m so sorry, for the things I did to you. For thescar on your head, for the scar on your arm, for the mental issues. I’m sorryyou spent like ten year worryin’ about me tryin’ t’ kill myself. You alwaystold me that my life was actually remarkable, an’ you were right. I let a lotof it go t’ waste an’ I dragged you into it. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be.” His Valet replied. “I’d do it again,to be honest.”

Sephyr laughed a hollow, unbelieving laugh. “Thanks, but yuhdon’t have t’ be nice t’ me right before I die.” He shook his head lightlybefore he felt Baxter squeeze his arm slightly.

“I am not.” He remarked plainly.

“Thank you.” Sephyr hummed. “I- I’m so glad you metVictoria. I’m so glad she’s breakin’ down those walls. I made yuh build up somewalls that I’m bettin’ she’s still strugglin’ with. Not t’ mention yourparents.” He cast his eyes to the side. “I want you to know that I love you.Like a brother. You were there for me when no one else was. For everything youdid for me, thank you.”

“You are very welcome, Sephyr.”

“I’m leaving you a quarter of the money.” Sephyr told him“So don’t be shocked when you read the will. Oh, and the BMW. And whatever youwant out of the mansion, I’m sure Finn won’t mind.”

The valet regarded Sephyr with a sad smile. “Very good,sir.”

As Baxter stepped back, Sephyr resisted the urge to allowtears to form. He hated this sort of thing. Baxter had been his best and mostloyal friend, there was so much more to say. He had said other things inletters, letters they would get some days after he had died. Finn, Sawyer,Baxter and Lily would all get letters, things he knew he’d never be able to sayin a setting like this. At least they would know how he really felt.

With Baxter out of the way, Sephyr motioned to Sawyer. Thesecurity guard looked unsire as he edged around the room, pushing some of thehair from his eyes. “Sorry, need a damn cut.”

“I like it long.” Sephyr said quietly, curling the handfarthest from Sawyer into the sheets. “Ohhh boy.”

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly.” The man hummed lightly. “I’mshit at these.”

“Me to.” Sephyr laughed lightly, looking away for a momentto take in a breath. “Listen, Sawyer. You already know some of the things Iwanna say. You were the best head of security I could have asked for. Yuh did yourjob better than anyone ever could have. Yuh took a damn bullet for me, man.”

“In the chest.” Sawyer nodded. “Best thing I ever did to behonest.”

“No no no.” Sephyr laughed, shaking his head. “Woulda beenbetter the other way. But you did it and I’ve always been grateful. You kept mesafe more times than I could count an’ you were lookin’ out for Bax and Finnto. I hope whatever you decide t’ do next is exactly what you need t’ keepmovin’. I left the other quarter of the money t’ you.” He offered a smallsmile.

“Really?” Sawyer seemed rather shocked by that notion.“Why?”

“Consider it your severance.” The Rock Star chuckledlightly. “You’re one of my best friends, of course I’m leavin’ you money. I’dleave you a car but yuh don’t drive so-. Take stuff outta the mansion if yuhwant. And make sure you hold onto Anna. She loves you.”

“I’ll do my best, boss.” Sawyer tried to smile, but it wasclear this was an uncomfortable moment for him. “I’ll see you in hell, eh?”

“Seventh Circle for us both.”

“Oh no.” Sawyer beamed. “I’m takin’ the throne!”

“Good lad.” Sephyr grinned back at him, watching him stepaside.

When Sephyr looked around, he certainly had to thinkcarefully about who to select next. Out of the group around his bed he chosehis sister, Lillian. She moved around the crowd to stand at her brother’sbeside, her arm on his shoulder. She was older than Sephyr ever wanted to seeher, her grey hair masked only by her hair dye. Certainly she looked good forher age, but that didn’t change the fact that she was nearly sixty. His sweet,baby sister was almost sixty years old.

“Lily I-“ He sighed as she threw her arms around him,hugging him tightly as she began to cry. “Hey now, you’re not the one dyingtoday.”

“No, but I’m the one watching my brother die.” She said asshe stood up straight, looking deep into his eyes with her own hazel orbs. “Andwe barely knew each other.”

“Oh I wouldn’t say that. I came to your shows, you avoidedmine. I came to New York and you invaded my Mansion twice a year. I knew whoyour friends were, you knew some of mine. We knew each other as well as anysiblings ever do.”

“But we lost so much time because of-“

“Lily please. Don’t even bring him up.” Sephyr looked sad,angry and ashamed in the same breath. “Please, not today. I need one day whereI’m not thinkin’ about him and the shit he did.”

“I’m sorry.” She sighed. “I just wish things had beendifferent.”

“We all do, but that’s not how life goes. I’m glad yuhtracked me down. I’m glad yuh came t’ find me, that I got t’ know you when wewere adults. I’m proud of the person you are, the person you became. I’m sorryI wasn’t there when you were little, but its better I wasn’t. I left you a car,and a bit of money when the mansion is sold, if it’s sold. If not, I’m sureFinn’ll throw you a bone somewhere.” He smiled and patted Lily on the head. “Ilove you, little sister.”

“I love you too, big brother. I love you so much.”

As Lily stepped away she did not stop at the edge of thecrowd like the others head. Instead she stepped right out of the bedroom intothe sitting room. Sephyr sighed lightly, knowing she was going to cry.Shockingly, he was thankful she had left. If she’d been balling right next tohim, he would have started. He turned his head from the doorway, calling Murryover to him. As soon as the other man was in range, he punched him square inthe arm.

“Ow!” The manager howled. “Dude, how do you still punch thathard?”

“I was savin’ it for you.” He replied with a laugh. “Onemore for old time sake. I’m gonna miss your ugly ass.”

“Funny I was going to say the same thing.” Murry ran a handover the sore spot on his shoulder. “Now I’m going to have a bruise to rememberyou by!”

“A bruise, a car, a couple guitars, whatever the kids wantout of the mansion. You know, the shit I promised you.”

“Oh what, no money for me?” Murry joked. “Fuck you man.”

“Fuck you too, ass hole.” The tone Sephyr spoke those wordsin was almost warm, welcoming. The two had been friends for so long, this wasthe only way they knew to communicate. Anything else would have been wrong.“Good bye, Murry. Was a hell of a ride.”

“Keep ridin’.” Murry replied, leaning down to hug his oldfriend, holding him for just a moment before he let go. “I love you, you littleshit.”

“I love you too, you giant fuck-knuckle.”

Before Sephyr had a chance to call over his next victim,there was a loud knock at the front door. With a puzzled expression, Baxterstepped away from the group as if by instinct. He moved along passed thesobbing woman on the sofa, opening the front door. There was something of agasp as Baxter drew in breath, stepping aside with a quick “Of course, comein.”

In the bedroom doorway Sephyr could see a man he neverexpected to show up, even at his deathbed. Roy McCormik stood with a bouquet offlowers. He set them at the foot of the bed, stepping over and placing a handon Sephyr’s shoulder. “I didn’t know what else to bring.”

“Yourself is more than fine.” Sephyr said with a note ofshock. “What the hell are you doin’ here?”

“What does it look like? I’m saying good bye to an oldfriend. “ Roy tried to smile, but his heart clearly wasn’t in it.

“Oh.” Sephyr managed, a clear hint of sadness in his tone.“I’m glad to see you.”

“I’m so sorry, Sephyr.” Roy said after a moment. “We should havehad more time- We should have been better friends.”

“I was the bad friend, Roy.” Sephyr admitted readily. “Itore us all apart. I was never good for anyone, not till I got help. You gotaway from me an’ lived a great life. Be proud of that. We had some good timesdurin’ tours. You were always the level headed one.” Sephyr’s hand moved toclose around his old friend’s hand. “Thanks for coming Roy. I’m so sorry, foreverything.”

“I couldn’t just not come.” The older man sighed. “You aremy friend. I’ll miss you. I’m… I’m sorry too.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

The look exchanged between the two of them spoke volumesabout the issues they’d had. It was a look of guilt, of sadness, of regret; buta look of caring. Roy was torn apart and Sephyr looked as though he might justbreak down. Their hands lingered together, clear and untold secrets betweenthem. The ending of a chapter never explored. As Roy took his step back, Sephyralmost didn’t want to let go. He did, in the end, calling both Victoria andAnna to his side. As both girls stepped to either side of his bed, both tookone of his hands. He met both of their eyes, squeezing each hand in turn.

“Hey girls.”

“Hey.” Both replied, a laugh on either set of lips, followedby another laugh between the two.

“Anna.” Sephyr started, turning to face her. “I have so mucht’ thank you for. You were my beard, an’ you never jidged or even consideredtakin’ it to the press. I have loved you since we got together.” He chuckledlightly. “An’ I’m so glad you have Sawyer. You were the best beard I ever had.”

“You’re welcome, honey.” Anna replied in her southern drawl.“I loved every minute.”

“I’m sorry, for the things you had to see. I’m sorry for-“

“Don’t.” she shook her head, running her hand through hishair. “I’d do it again and love it just as much knowin’ what was happenin’. Ilove you. We all love you. Don’t tell me you’re sorry for making us.”

Sephyr was quiet for a moment, pausing when Anna leaned downto brush their lips together for a very brief moment. “I think you deserve restmore than anyone else I know.”

Tears finally rolled down Sephyr’s cheeks as he reached outto hug Anna, a shaky sigh on his lips. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, love.”

As they pulled away, Sephyr wiped tears from his eyes,turning to look at Victoria. The woman standing on his other side was alsocrying and at that sight, Sephyr’s heart shattered. “Oh come on now.” Hemanaged to get out. “Pretty girl like you, cryin’ over some old codger likeme?”

“Shut up.” Victoria snapped almost playfully. “I’ll cry if Iwant to.”

“S’not your party.” Sephyr said, making a musical joke.There was a long silence between the two of them before Victoria leaned downand wrapped her arms around the older man. He in turn wrapped his arms aroundher. “Thank you, for everything.”

“My pleasure, old man.” She replied, pausing to draw in along and shaking breath. “It was so worth it.”

“I’m sorry for the things you had to see when you came.” Hesaid quietly. “And thank you so much for looking after Baxter. Please don’t let‘em get to sad about this shit. Ain’t worth i- OW.” He howled, head shootingback to look at Victoria, who’s hand had just grazed the top of his head.

“You’re worth it.” She stated very clearly, everyone aroundher nodding. You changed lives, Sephyr. You changed a lot of lives. Everyone here’s going to miss you so much.Please, for once, give yourself that much credit.”

Sephyr was crying again, his hands moving to his face tohide it for that moment. It felt so good, so right, that at least some of thepeople in his life had seen him, for him. He had never felt validation likethat. His hands dropped and his arms wrapped around himself. His eyes met everyset in that room, a genuine and sincere smile on his features. “God, I love allof you so much.”

There was a round of ‘we love you too’s’ and a last hug fromVictoria before she stepped away too, rejoining her husband. Baxter, who hadbeen standing next to their daughter, ushered the girl forward. The teenagerlooked a little unsure of how to approach this situation, her black hairfalling in front of her beautiful blue eyes. She stood next to the bed, lookingup at her ‘uncle’.

“Hello Iris.”

“Hey uncle Seph.” She said, looking down. “I don’t want todo this.”

“Me neither, kid.” Sephyr said slowly. “But sometimes, thisis for the best. You don’t wanna see your uncle bedridden for years, do yuh?”

“Ew. No. You’d hate that.” She had the same look of disgusther father had perfected over the years.

“Then come and give me a hug.” He extended his arms, whichshe folded herself into readily. “I love you, Iris. I’m so proud of the womanyou’re becoming. Listen to your father. He’ll be there for you when you needhim most.”

“Don’t worry, Uncle Seph. I’ll keep him safe.” She saidquietly, knowingly. She was wise beyond her years. “You can rest.”

“Thanks Iris.” He replied, holding her just a little tighterfor a moment. “And don’t you dare let anyone tell you you’re not amazing.”

“Dang right!” She beamed as she pulled back. “I’m SephyrSteele’s niece!” She giggled, kissed Sephyr on the cheek and trotted back overto her father. She really was one of the smartest children Sephyr had ever met.

And then came the time to say good bye to two of the peoplehe was dreading saying it to. To his left he could see Ellis, waiting patientlyto be called on. Sephyr reached out, silently calling the actor to him. AsEllis moved to his side, Sephyr didn’t even speak. He pulled the other man downto himself, tightly wrapping his arms around him. Ellis hugged him back andthere were tears on both sides. There was hardly any noise in that moment, bothunderstanding what the other meant just by the urgency in which they held eachother. Brothers who had been torn apart and who had almost not recovered. They lovedeach other so much, but Sephyr’s issues had certainly gotten in the way. Asthey pulled back from each other, Sephyr didn’t wait for Ellis to speak.

“I’m sorry, and don’t you dare interrupt.” He said quickly. “I’msorry for telling you I hated you. I’m sorry for not talkin’ t’ you for twentyyears. I’m sorry the band broke up, that you’re still alone, that you had tohire someone to loo kafter me. I love you, you are my brother. I’m so fuckingsorry you had to deal with all my shit.” He sighed.

“And I’m sorry I outted you.” Ellis replied. “We are both toblame, my brother.” Ellis’ hand moved to the other’s shoulder to squeeze. “Theending to a truthfully amazing man. And what an ending. Your terms, yourchoice. Exactly what you needed.” The Englishmen smiled down at his long-timefriend. “Mom and Dad would be proud.”

“I hope so.” Sephyr looked away. “I miss them, so much.”

“They missed you too, Sephyr. And with any luck, maybe we’llall see each other again.”

“Who knows.” Sephyr chuckled as Ellis leaned down to lookhim directly in the eyes.

“I do.” The actor smiled, leaning forward and kissing hisbest friend, his brother, a man he loved so on the cheek, stepping back. “Ilove you, very much, Sephyr. And please, when you pass him on the way out, tellKyle I miss him too.”

“I’ll make sure he gets the memo.” Sephyr said with analmost barking laugh through his own tears. He could feel his heart breakingagain. This day was full of that. “He’d miss you too, Ellis Simpkins.”

“Thank you.” Ellis said after a moment. They lingered nearto each other for a moment before Ellis stepped away, unable to keep himselffrom tearing up again any longer. He stepped to the back of the crowd, hismisty eyes turned away from the dying man in the bed.

Sephyr knew now who he would have to say good bye too. Finnwas the last one there, the last one who needed to say his good byes. The sharpbreath he drew in spoke volumes for his dread as he watched all the others whohad come to see him drift away from his bed to stand at the end of it. Finn wasleft standing right next to his father, eyes locked on the older man.

“Do you have to?” He asked, voice almost strangled with thepossibility of tears. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”

“Exactly what you do with me.” Sephyr told him, reaching outto take his hand. “Finn.. We’ve known a long time I wasn’t gonna be aroundforever.”

“I know. Doesn’t mean I’m ready tolose my dad.”

“I know. I’m not really ready tolose my son either.” He sighed lightly, reaching out for his son. Finn curledinto his arms, face buried in the older man’s chest. “But I’m so proud of you.I’m so proud of who you are, of what you choose to do with your time, of howgenerous you are. You’re the best kid a Dad could have asked for.”

“That’s your fault.” Finn cried,tears running down his face. “And I;m not going to be the same without you.”

“You will be.” Sephyr assured him.“You’ve overcome worse than this. I’m just a chapter. You’ve got the resta yourlife ahead of you. Don’t let me drag yuh down. Go out, help people, do the thingsyou do best. An’ whatever you do, don’t you ever give up music an’ art. I loveyour art.”

“I promise.” Finn replied. “Ipromise…”

Sephyr moved to that Finn was heldat the end of his arms, a space between them so that Sephyr could look himright in the eyes. “I love you, my boy. I love you so much. You’re my world. I’mproud to have been your father. I’m sorry for some of the things you saw, I’msorry I wasn’t always the best. But you’re amazing, an’ I have no regrets abouttaking you on. Please, don’t remember me for this. Bein’ stuck in a bed allday?”

“No.” Finn promised, leaningforward to press his forehead to his father’s. “I’m going to remember you inthe Firebird, heading god knows were to do something amazing. Because I’m proudof you too, Dad. You worked so hard to become the man you’ve been for the lastfourteen years. I love you so much.”

Sephyr hugged his son again,holding him for a long time as the two cried together. It was one of thehardest things the men and women around Sephyr had ever had to watch, the lastgood bye between a son and father who shared so many Things. The last moments ofa family who found each other when both needed it most. The passing of an epicchapter in the universe.

“Chin up, kiddo.” Sephyr saidafter a while, Finn sitting up from where he’d curled himself. “It’s almosttime.”

“I know.” Finn told the older man.“I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’m going to miss you to.” Sephyrsaid slowly. “But I’ll be around. Tones of music t’ hear me in.”

They shared a long look, the lastin their good byes as Finn slid off of the bed, standing beside his father.Each person who had said their good byes moved back to the bed to give Sephyrone last long hug. When the rounds were finished and he’d managed to makehimself let go of Finn, he watched everyone file out of the apartment.Eventually, when everyone had left, it was just himself and Baxter in thesilence of the room. The only sound was Sephyr, a quiet crying from the bed.Baxter let out a low sigh, standing next to his very good friend.

“Are you ready?” The Valet asked,a hand on the older man’s shoulder.

“I dunno.” Sephyr said quietlythrough the tears. “Thought I was… but that was hard as hell.”

“As you knew it would be, sir.”

“You’re right.” Sephyr cried. “You’realways fuckin’ right.”

“Just as you say.” Baxter saidquietly, a small glistening of tears on his own cheeks. “I will miss beingright about your life.”

“And I’ll miss you bein’ right.”

Baxter set a small case on the bedin front of Sephyr. “As requested, as provided.” He said slowly. “Your poisonof choice.”

“S’weird havin’ you offer it.”

“I would imagine.” Baxter’s tonewas flat, almost monotone. “You’ll forgive me. I am just not looking forward tothis.”

“Please go.” Sephyr said as hebusied himself preparing the massive dose of his former vice. “You don’t needto see me this way.”

“I want to.” Baxter assured him. “Aman like you shouldn’t die alone. You were alone much too long already.”

“You have always been too kind tome, Baxter. Just promise this isn’t what you’re gonna remember.”

“No.” Baxter hummed. “The man Iwill remember is the man who saved my life after only knowing me nine months.That is the man I shall remember fondly.”

“Thank you Baxter.” Sephyr said,tying off his own arm.

When the moment arrived, Sephyrreadied himself to let go. He reflected on his life to that point, on theremarkable things he had done through his seventy-one years. It really had beenso much better than he’d let it be and while he regretted so much of it therewas so much he had enjoyed. He’d met his idols, he’d been mentioned in the samebreath as them. He’d made some amazing friends along the way, he’d fallen inlove so many times. He’d changed so many lives. In truth, despite everything,he was very proud of himself. In the end of everything, it had been a goodlife.

“Can yuh hit the music, Bax?” Sephyr asked as he rested the end of the needle against his skin.

The Valet stepped over to the radio, pressing the play button on the CD player. In an instant the sound of Queen;s ‘Who Wants to Live Forever’ rang out through the quiet penthouse, Sephyr’s body relaxing against the pillow on the bed. “I’m ready.” He finally said, his eyes lingering on Baxter. “Thank you, for staying.

“Of course, Sephyr. I would not miss it.”

As he pushed the plunger into the syringe in his arm, he reached out totake Baxter’s hand and held it tightly in his own. He could feel the drugs taking effect, the swimming in his head. Soon he would black out and death would take him quietly. The amount he had taken was much too much for his body or mind to survive. It would kill him, quickly. As the swimming got more and more intense, he settled properly, his eyes sliding shut.

“Good bye, my friend. My brother. Good Bye, Baxter.”

“Good bye, sir.”

As the darkness of death overtookhim, there was the slightest smile on his face. A man finally at peace.

#ask #headcanon #the death of a titan #so sad holy fuck #oc ending #V:: Canon

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mchadrow-blog · 6 years

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Fannie O’Linn Chadron Nebraska Dawes County Northwestern Panhandle Founder Attorney Teacher Show 062

Chadron The Northwestern Nebraska Panhandle town founded by Frances Maria Brainard O'Linn

Show 062

I'm Mitchell Chadrow and this is the Listen Up Show Podcast

Fanny was not only the founder of a town she was a noteworthy pioneer for settling the west, a school teacher, a postmaster, the fifth woman admitted to the Bar in Nebraska, a community builder and most of all a hero that should be studied by all in business and life.

-> What are we going to learn today?

-> What Legacy did Fanny Leave and how can her lessons apply to your everyday business and life?

-> Why do an entire podcast on Fanny?

;After doing research on her story I was shocked that even people in the town of Chadron know little about her let alone Nebraskians especially how her story applies to business

I started asking myself why has this most amazing woman somehow been placed on the back seat of history - maybe until now there has been no one to be her voice or maybe she has no relatives or family to tell her story. It really seemed unfair because she should at least be on a short list of notable Nebraska women. Tome, she really seemed to have been unforgotten but I’m changing all that now

I mean we all have heard of William Jennings Bryan the orator and Nebraska politician read and heard stories of the Travelings of Lewis and Clark Know about The Showmanship of William F. Cody and of course the Notoriety of Charlie Starkweather.

However, it’s not every day that a woman in the In the 1880’s helps start up a

town. builds a community of people in the heartland of America becomes a pioneer settling the west, is the fifth woman to become an attorney in Nebraska and the 11th registered with the US Supreme Court - she was a postmaster, a mid wife, a school teacher, and so much more

She was born back on April 13, 1848 in a small town called Magnolia the county seat of Harrison County Iowa, Fanny graduated at the University State University of Iowa in Iowa City as valedictorian and youngest member of the class' at the State University of Iowa in Iowa City. She became a teacher at Magnolia High School and then principal at Buena Vista High School.

When her father moved to Magnolia Iowa it only had a population of 500 however by 1876 Magnolia was removed as the county seat, which left the place with but little else than a small, local trade. Hallowed be the name Magnolia to many a pioneer, who knew the place as Harrison County's best town.

You can get the show notes back at mitchellchadrow.com/show062 signup back at my website at mitchellchadrow.com/signup get the latest in my blog posts and podcasts and free resource guides just by signing up back at my website mitchellchadrow.com/signup

Women's history is rich in the Panhandle of Northwestern Nebraska but at the forefront of this is another true hero pioneer that must be recognized now and has been uncovered. For me researching her story has been a journey of discovery, uncovering this amazing woman's story from various sources that has led me to so many other wonderful stories that I will also tell you here on future podcasts.

I am glad O’Linn’s story can be shared with my Listen Up audience and I hope her wonderful story helps motivate inspire and help you in business.

It's like a Wild Buffalo Bill Cody Show on tour but with Fannie, and being able to take you across the country to share all this history that she created in the communities where she lived

Ificould describe her in three words:

adventurous courageous dynamic

Our start up round is sponsored by startups Smarter

You need help starting that business whether it’s forming establishingvyiurpresence online or help forming or testing your business idea my listeners who signup back at startupsmartup.com/Mitchell get a free one page website on their platform and a free guide how to Startup Smarter so head on over to startupssmarter.com/Mitchell as my listeners get that free one page free website help on starting up that business

Now back to the show

Fanny came from a family of doer's and their great work ethic and business acumen most certainly had a positive influence on her

her dad Judge Daniel Egbert Brainard,

was also a pioneer and Fannys role model

both in herfathersdeeds and his actions

Fanny’s dad was Harrison County Iowa judge from 1857 to 1862 and a member of the state board of education for several years, he held the office of county treasurer and recorder from 1856 to 1858, and was agent for the post office department at Washington County Iowa looking after delinquencies. He held this latter position four years with headquarters usually at Iowa City, but most often he was out in the field examining postal matters in Iowa.

Both of Fanny’s brothers were entrepreneurs George and Orville together started their own newspaper publisher business in 1859 called the Magnolia Weekly Republican and then later the Dunlap Reporter after several years the first newspaper business was sold and neither George decided to farm but also carried the mail

Fanny was destined to be involved with the post office yuh see back in

1854 a post office was being set up in her hometown at that time Magnolia and Fanny's dad was involved becoming postmaster a year after the post office was established in 1855. Her brother George also became postmaster in Magnolia and 1862 was subsequently appointed postmaster of the House of Representatives in Iowa. George decided to lease the newspaper to a Judge FORD, instead of selling it outright.

Magnolia’s Chief feature was Schools and churches; aside from being the county seat of Harrison County Iowa which contributed toward the upbuilding of the place.

The early schools were kept in private houses. In 1858 the first school building was provided at that point. It was a poor "shack" of a house, two stories high, designed for agradedschool; it was used for school purposes until 1866.

Again Fanny taughtthere !

However, by 1868 she met and married Dr. Daniel O'Linn. Dr. O'Linn was a Civil War veteran who participated in "Sherman's March to the Sea" and was renowned as a physician and surgeon.

Fanny, her husband and two sons at that time decided to move to Blair County in 1872, where Dr. O'Linn set up business with Dr. S.B. Taylor.

The year before her brother George had the itch to get back into the newspaper business so by 1871 he started his second paper this time called the Dunlap Reporter

It’s no wonder why The family was described in HarrisoncountyIowa as being strong, high-minded and with true characters.

Tragically Fannie's husband died suddenly in 1880, it left Fannie alone with two sons and by that time she also had a daughter. She had to rely on herself so she decided to immediately take that principal position of she promptly took the Blair schools, followed by Tekamah, and took a leadership role in education in Washington County for four years.

Our Fast Pitch is sponsored by Chadrow.net

Chadrow Law a Law Made Smarter Legal Service Solutions forLife !

You need a will trust poalwbusiness startup formation documents or for any real estate transaction or litigation issues go over to Chadrow.net with informative articles that will empower you about the lawa freeresource guides on Estate planning digital assets business check out Chadrow.net learn more about the law

Something fundamental changed in American 1884 the Homestead Act was past

It provided anyone either a brand new start or a chance to own 160 acres their own land

Fanny viewed it as a new opportunity a new chance for a fresh start

she made the decision to move with her children from the place she always knew and loved and continue west toward Nebraska.

Her plan settle her own small frontier settlement and call it O'Linn.

Many twists and turns in this journey and like all business minded entrepreneurs your best plans don’t always go as planned - the question for fanny and you is how to handle these twists and turns when confronted that’s what makes you who you are and calls you toward your destiny

You see the town of O’Linn was not merely being named such because Fanny had an ego although she had every right - she was accomplished and achieve morethenmost woman or men could at the time she moved west to Nebraska to settle O’Linn.

But the name was to honor the memory of her eldest son, who had died shortly after their move to what would eventually be Dawes County Northwestern Nebraska called the panhandle some say Oklahoma

Fanny homesteaded near the junction of the White River and Chadron Creek, then located in Sioux County near Dakota Junction but today it’s Dawes County.

Her humble abode was merely one-room, 14- by 16-foot claim cabin half dugout and half soddy.

She one of a few earliest settlers in Dawes, she noted that summer that "the only houses ... were around Fort Robinson (while) we had only to throw our lines in the White River to have a catfish (and) found 49 varieties ofwild flowers."

As I mentioned earlier when her son Daniel Egbert was accidentally killed, locals began calling the settlement O'Linn in his honor.

I also mentioned because of her father and brothers involvement with the postal system she didn’t wasteanytimeapplying for a post office in September of 1884, and that’s how the name O'Linn stuck.

One of the first shops to open was owned by another settlor Burr Sheldon

It didn’t take longfirothers to quickly follow with a hardware store, bank, druggistandsaloon, some of which operated out of tents before buildings could be erected.

That December 1884 the first Methodist Church service in the county, known as the White River O'Linn Charge, was held in the O'Linn cabin by Rev. Joseph Gray.

Early in 1885, the population of O'Linn was advertised as 500, replete with five saloons and a dozen stores. Thus, when the Elkhorn, Fremont & Missouri Valley Railroad began scouting the area for right of way, Fannie felt certain that O'Linn would be the natural site for a depot and siding.

Unfortunately, her optimism led her to ask for more money than the railroad felt was justified, and instead they bought land some six miles distant at a site they named Bordeaux.

In the summer of 1885, a county seat election for the new Dawes County chose Chadron on a vote of 582 to 3 for O'Linn.

I have to think that the three votes fanny received was her vote her youngest son and her daughter

How was it that this pioneer dynamic accomplished woman didn’t receive one other vote from anyone else

In my research it was partly do to another settlor named Edward E Egan who started the first newspaper in the town surprising it wasn’t Fanny’s brother Orville who would also settle the area as well and the fact that the Railroad probably didn’t like being told by Fanny the more aggressive terms that her Homestead would become the location for the new Railroad stop. More about that on another podcast as I will do an entire story on Edward Egan the person who got the town and Railroad to rally around the name Chadron over O’Linn.

Our wrap up round is actually sponsored by Chadron.net

In honor of this special town of Chadron

The Chadron.net website is not just for people who live go to school work in Chadron or only Nebraskians it’s a place to learn about the rich history of the heartland of American and all this area and surrounding terroritoty has got you and your family

Chadron is known as the magic city even though Fanny didn’t get her wish to name Chadron O’Linn

She taught us if things to work out you pick up the pieces dust yourself off and keep moving

I became fascinated with Chadron because people would ask me if I knew there was a Chadrow NE and that there is a fire co and sports wear on the Internet called Chadrow - both turned out to be errors on the Internet never corrected but back in a lot of ways I’m glad because if you go back to Chadron.net you can learn more about the Chadrow 4 Chadron project bringing more tourists and people to the area and learn about our country’s founding and the amazing stories of people that come slice at Chadron.net and tell a story that can help inspire motivate you in your life and business

Now let me tell you more about this amazing town of Chadron ->

When the railroad arrived in July of 1885 O'Linn or now Chadron meaning the entire town literally picked up and moved to the new site - one store even kept operating while "being trundled over the prairie." Lowenthal

How many towns are you aware of the history of the US that could or can just pick up and overnight move giving it the name the magical city

Despite the perceived set back of not having her Homestead as the railroad stop or name of the town like a determined person she was with true character and grit

Fannie moved as well too, and not only that she became Chadron's first postmaster.

Later becoming what some say the fifth female attorney in Nebraska. However studying the law under the direction of her father the judge back in Iowa must have provided her great exposure to the law thus some say she might have actually been the 2nd practicing woman attorney in Nebraska

Whatever her ranking, Fannie O'Linn was one of the originators of the Northwest Nebraska Teachers Association, one of the initial promoters of Chadron's library, and again its first postmaster, becoming "one of the most widely known and respected women in the northwest ... present at the first wedding, the first birth and the first funeral in Dawes County."

It doesn’t stop there for those who say I have done all I can in business and life fanny kept going she was the first female insurance broker, was also involved heavily in organizations, such as the Women's Christian Temperance Union and the women's suffrage movement

Yes O'Linn battled tragedy throughout her life, but she persevered, playing a crucial role in the settlement and development of her communities both in Iowa and Nebraska

I was driven by this story for so many reasons - Just think she loses her husband then her oldest son she is on the western plains of Nebraska single woman in this really harsh tough life of circumstances who despite all of this pushed forward to her own future journey.

To recap in conclusion Here is a list of this amazing woman's accomplishment that only a few ever achieve:

She was admitted to the bar in 1885, was responsible for keeping the land office in Chadron, then started an abstract business, she started the town called O'Linn that eventually became Chadron. She was the first postmistress of the town, and was one of the first female postmistresses."

she even served as a midwife and is believed to have been responsible for helping to birth most of the children born in Dawes County from 1880 through 1910.

Her life was complex, full and varied. She battled with area ranchers and businessmen, was a correspondent for the Omaha Bee, served as president and historian for Dawes County for the Nebraska Historical Association, and was a charter member of the Order of the Eastern Star in Chadron. Her influence even extended into raising the young woman who would grow to fame as Dr. Leta Stetter Hollingworth, a pioneer in women's and educational psychology at Columbia University.

Unfortunately, her youngest son also predeceased her and only her daughter (who had been born in Blair County Iowa) would survive her; her descendants eventually moved away from Dawes County, leaving no one to tell her story or recount her achievements - until now.

By 1890-1891 she is listed asMrsFanny O'Linn attorney at law, notary public, abstracts, insurance, real estate, and loans.

Her dad moves to Chadron around this time The last years of Judge BRAINARD's life were spent in Chadron, Nebraska, with his daughter.

He passed away

On Dec 4, 1892 (at the aged 83) but his family buried him back in Magnolia where he spent most of his years at

Magnolia Cemetery Magnolia, Harrison County, Iowa, USA PLOT section 2 MEMORIAL ID 106692353 · View Source]

We can all learn something from folks like Fannie. I hope you all Listened Up and found out what is so special and important in really hearing this story

Fanny passed away on July 19, 1926 (at the aged 78) her Burial spot Blair Cemetery Blair, Washington County, Nebraska

Her grave marker is prominently displayed to honor the amazing legacy she left for all those who want toListenupto the story she left for everyone!

Until next time

My trusted friends

Please provide a well-written review on iTunes Mitchell Chadrow.com/iTunes it takes two minutes but helps others find the show subscribe anywhere we are also on Spotify stitcher iheartradio tuneinradio or any popular podcast aggregator one of my favorite overcast.fm or Mitchell Chadrow.com/overcast

Signupback at my website for the latest podcasts more articles and if you send me an email about your business startup I am happy to respond Mitchell Chadrow.com /signup

Thank you again

Check out this episode!

#business #entrepreneurs #startups #entrepreneurship #fintech #technology

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marsville · 7 years

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TAG I’M IT!

Get to know me tag game! Tagged by @sebcarring prepare for some basic info zzZz ahead Rules: Answer these 92 statements and tag 20* people. LAST: 1. Drink: Yogurt 2. Phone call: I deliberately do not answer calls. unless business/work. My boss, I guess. 3. Text message: nonsensical text message to my buddies.  4. Song you listened to: Open Up by Gallant. CHECK HIM OUT #Ology if you like RnB!  5. Time you cried: I don't remember. 6. Dated someone twice: noooo 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: Eh, probably. 8. Been cheated on: Nah 9. Lost someone special: none recent. 10. Been depressed: just sad, probably. 11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: Yes! I don't drink but wanted try the feeling of being drunk. It ended up me hugging the toilet, vomited! went to bed- head was spinning and remembered saying 'what's so fun about this?' Slept. LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS: 12-14: Blue, Teal, Cyan IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU: 15. Made new friends: Yeah, I try to meet and mingle with people with regards to my interest.  16. Fallen out of love: Naaah 17. Laughed until you cried: Yah! 18. Found out someone was talking about you: nah, can't be bothered and it don't matter. 19. Met someone who changed you: Firm believer of everyone you meet directly/indirectly changes you! So yes, especially the assholes on the streets. Defo, don't want to be them but I really do hope they find enlightenment!  20. Found out who your friends are: Loving it when I face adversity, super easy to trim down your 'friends' lists. 21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: Nah! GENERAL: 22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: Most of them! 23. Do you have any pets: 2 jumbo dogs, and 4 stray cats. 24. Do you want to change your name: wanted to but it doesn't matter, really, so what gives 😂 25. What did you do for your last Birthday: was working probably! Stopped celebrating birthdays but I am excited for this year, I share the same Bday week with my buddies so all of us are going on a bday trip together, Should be loads of fun! 26. What time did you wake up: 8am 27. What were you doing at midnight last night: Working but couldn't be productive, so exhausted! 28. Name something you can’t wait for: A WEEK OFF! Heck even a day off I'll tale it! 29. When was the last time you saw your mom: 2-3 days ago. 30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: I'll always be a frustrated athlete so maybe a bit more disciplined around training and training smart. 31. What are you listening to right now: Il Divo tracks! 32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: yaaah 33. Something that is getting on your nerves: exhausted but struggling to sleep! It's been frustrating really! 34. Most visited website: IG/Twitter/Tumblr RANDOM INFO: 35. Mole/s: loads on my fave 36. Mark/s: moles!  37. Childhood dream: Be an athlete! HA 38. Hair color: Black 39. Long or short hair: shoulder length. 41. What do you like about yourself: lately, I've been really kind to myself, If I fuck deal with it, move on, get better at it! And really trying to be level-headed.  42. Piercings: nah 43. Blood type: O+ 44. Nickname: AM 45. Relationship status: desperately looking for a pet goat! 46. Zodiac: Scorpio 47. Pronouns: She/ IT whatever don't be an asshole! 48. Favorite TV Show: The X Files, In The Flesh, BBC Hustle, 30Rock, House of Cards, Will and Grace 49. Tattoos: Nada 50. Right or left hand: Right 51. Surgery: on my calf, had a really bad infection on my skin when I was young. I barely remember it but the scar is still apparent.  52. Hair dyed in different color: Always wanted blue hail. Soon.  53. Sport: Rugby and Basketball but I'll play/try whatever sport!  55. Vacation: South Korea soon and back to HK before the year ends. 56. Pair of trainers: get black ones! MORE GENERAL: 57. Eating: yogurt 58. Drinking: yogurt 59. I’m about to: The Kills! 61. Waiting for: My brain to function so I can finish this shit! 62. Want: SLEEP! 63. Get married: nah, to a burrito- yes! 64. Career: carry on with my sports job while still do the arts on the side. WHICH IS BETTER: 65. Hugs or kisses: Hugs, I'll cuddle with anyone. Even a lamp post! 66. Lips or eyes: both but eyes are intense! 67. Shorter or taller: duh'mah' 68. Older or younger: OLDER!  70. Nice arms or nice stomach: NICE UPPER BACK waddup for both males and females. I WILL FUCKING STARE and ADMIRE the hours you put in! 71. Sensitive or loud: LOUD but knows how when and where to draw the line! 72. Hook up or relationship: The latter. 73. Troublemaker or hesitant: in the middle, a bit more on the former. HAVE YOU EVER: 74. Kissed a Stranger: Yuh 75. Drank hard liquor: Yuh  76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: Yuh, well, I thought I lost my glasses but nah so nah 77. Turned someone down: Yuh 78. Sex on the first date: yes but not on a date! Don't think that'll happen again. 79. Broken someone’s heart: Nah 80. Had your heart broken: Nah 81. Been arrested: Nah 82. Cried when someone died: Yuh 83. Fallen for a friend: Nah, maybe just the idea if it. DO YOU BELIEVE IN: 84. Yourself: Yes!  85. Miracles: yes! 86. Love at first sight: at farm animals, yes! 87. Santa Claus: nah 88. Kiss on the first date: depends how the date went OTHER: 90. Current best friend name: PJ, Pia, Rafa 91. Eye color: Brown 92. Favorite movie: Unfair! I have loads. Revolver, Rocknrolla, Coherence, The Black Lobster, M, Cloud Atlas, Drive, The Goonies, Footloose Tag yo' ass!

#whoever wants it #qew qew qew

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rustedsteele · 7 years

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Dabble: In The End

// I am reposting the dabble as a post so I can link through to it. It is under the read more.

The penthouse had been quiet that day. As yet Sephyr had only seen the nurse, checking in on his as she did every single morning. His shallow breathing served as the only sound in the room and in that moment he desperately wished he could reach the radio by the window. He groaned slightly at the thought of even trying to get up, his head lulling against the soft pillow at the top of the hospital-grade bed. His cool blue eyes feel shut as he took a long breath in. He hadn’t been sure until the week before that it was time, but it most certainly was. He couldn’t walk on his own, this was no kind of life.

Sephyr Steele had made the decision a week ago to end his life. He had first approached his long-time friend, Baxter and explained that if he wasn’t able to get out of bed under his own power, he did not want to continue living. As if by instinct Baxter had tried to talk him out of it, but relented at the sight of pain in the Rock Star’s eyes. He truthfully looked as though he had already given up and in truth, he had. Eventually Baxter agree, allowing him to choose the way in which he would like to go. Sephyr opted for an overdose on his former drug of choice, as he did not qualify for assisted suicide. Baxter agreed to allow it, if Sephyr could keep his name away from it. The Rock Star of course already had a source, so a date was set.

It was that morning that he had wondered to himself if he really was ready. In only a few short moment his friends and family would arrive to say their good byes and Sephyr could feel the anxiety building in his chest at the thought. He had never been one for good byes. They did not sit well with him. He knew of course that he owed this to them. At the very least he owed them the chance to say good bye to him. Closure for some, like Finn and Baxter. Those were the two he looked forward to the least. Despite the doubt, he knew he was indeed ready. Letting go now, on his terms. The best ending Sephyr could have asked for.

As he thought to himself, he almost failed to notice the front door opening. From where his bed had been moved he couldn’t see the door, but he suspected that it was the sound of Baxter letting everyone inside. It was about that time. He had sent out text messages, letting everyone know he needed to see the ‘one last time’. Everyone of course knew that it meant. He had been kinder to Finn, explaining it in person. The twenty-one year old had taken it better than Sephyr had expected. His son knew that the old man would never survive being bed ridden anyway. As the footsteps and low chatter approached the door, he tipped the bed up into a sitting position, slightly ashamed of how weak he looked now.

The first figure to step through the open bedroom door was of course Finn. The young sandy-blond man stepped up beside his father’s bed, leaning over to kiss his forehead. “Hey pop.” He muttered out, sadness clearly ringing through his tone. No one wanted to know that the moment they left, their parent was going to die. Truthfully, the Rock Star understood.

“Hey Kiddo.” He replied somewhat weakly, reaching over to pat the younger man on the shoulder. “Gonna be alright?”

“About as alright as anyone here.” Finn explained, gesturing to the surprising crowd of people who had gathered around the bed. Some with moderate success, being pushed to the fringe of the crowd. “Bet you didn’t think everyone would show.”

“Seems silly.” Sephyr hummed. “All you fuckers takin’ time out t’ come down an’ say good bye to this old ass washout.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Came a voice from the foot of the bed, and Sephyr glanced over to look at the source. Sawyer Thulus.

“Oh don’t worry. I will.” Sephyr laughed. Sawyer seemed much less amused.

“Dude, are you for real? Don’t.” The security guard’s eyes moved to the sheets at the end of the bed and very suddenly, Sephyr felt terrible.

“Sorry.” He muttered out as the rest of the group closed in.

“So how is this going to work.” The ever realistic voice of Baxter came. “Because I’d hazard a guess that Sephyr would like to keep this a brief as possible.”

“I would.”

“Very good, sir. Please select someone to-“

“Baxter?” Sephyr interrupted.

“Sir?”

“If you could, because this is my last day and all, just- just not call me Sir?”

“Oh course, Mr. Steele.” The Valet said, a cheeky grin on his face.

“You fuck.” Sephyr muttered. “Just for that you’re going first.”

“As you say, Sephyr.” The reply was much warmer than his obvious jab at his former employer. As the Valet stepped to the edge of the bed, Finn stepped aside. Sephyr intended to leave his son until last, because he had some very serious things to say to him. Although he did for Baxter as well. The Valet sighed lightly, a hand moving to rest on his friend’s arm. “It has been good, hasn’t it?”

“In the end.” Sephyr said, taking a deep breath and moving his hand to rest on top of Baxter’s. “There are so many things I wanna say Bax…. But there’s not enough time.” He watched the Valet nod knowingly. Some he already knew, of course. “I’m so sorry, for the things I did to you. For the scar on your head, for the scar on your arm, for the mental issues. I’m sorry you spent like ten year worryin’ about me tryin’ t’ kill myself. You always told me that my life was actually remarkable, an’ you were right. I let a lot of it go t’ waste an’ I dragged you into it. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be.” His Valet replied. “I’d do it again, to be honest.”

Sephyr laughed a hollow, unbelieving laugh. “Thanks, but yuh don’t have t’ be nice t’ me right before I die.” He shook his head lightly before he felt Baxter squeeze his arm slightly.

“I am not.” He remarked plainly.

“Thank you.” Sephyr hummed. “I- I’m so glad you met Victoria. I’m so glad she’s breakin’ down those walls. I made yuh build up some walls that I’m bettin’ she’s still strugglin’ with. Not t’ mention your parents.” He cast his eyes to the side. “I want you to know that I love you. Like a brother. You were there for me when no one else was. For everything you did for me, thank you.”

“You are very welcome, Sephyr.”

“I’m leaving you a quarter of the money.” Sephyr told him “So don’t be shocked when you read the will. Oh, and the BMW. And whatever you want out of the mansion, I’m sure Finn won’t mind.”

The valet regarded Sephyr with a sad smile. “Very good, sir.”

As Baxter stepped back, Sephyr resisted the urge to allow tears to form. He hated this sort of thing. Baxter had been his best and most loyal friend, there was so much more to say. He had said other things in letters, letters they would get some days after he had died. Finn, Sawyer, Baxter and Lily would all get letters, things he knew he’d never be able to say in a setting like this. At least they would know how he really felt.

With Baxter out of the way, Sephyr motioned to Sawyer. The security guard looked unsire as he edged around the room, pushing some of the hair from his eyes. “Sorry, need a damn cut.”

“I like it long.” Sephyr said quietly, curling the hand farthest from Sawyer into the sheets. “Ohhh boy.”

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly.” The man hummed lightly. “I’m shit at these.”

“Me to.” Sephyr laughed lightly, looking away for a moment to take in a breath. “Listen, Sawyer. You already know some of the things I wanna say. You were the best head of security I could have asked for. Yuh did your job better than anyone ever could have. Yuh took a damn bullet for me, man.”

“In the chest.” Sawyer nodded. “Best thing I ever did to be honest.”

“No no no.” Sephyr laughed, shaking his head. “Woulda been better the other way. But you did it and I’ve always been grateful. You kept me safe more times than I could count an’ you were lookin’ out for Bax and Finn to. I hope whatever you decide t’ do next is exactly what you need t’ keep movin’. I left the other quarter of the money t’ you.” He offered a small smile.

“Really?” Sawyer seemed rather shocked by that notion. “Why?”

“Consider it your severance.” The Rock Star chuckled lightly. “You’re one of my best friends, of course I’m leavin’ you money. I’d leave you a car but yuh don’t drive so-. Take stuff outta the mansion if yuh want. And make sure you hold onto Anna. She loves you.”

“I’ll do my best, boss.” Sawyer tried to smile, but it was clear this was an uncomfortable moment for him. “I’ll see you in hell, eh?”

“Seventh Circle for us both.”

“Oh no.” Sawyer beamed. “I’m takin’ the throne!”

“Good lad.” Sephyr grinned back at him, watching him step aside.

When Sephyr looked around, he certainly had to think carefully about who to select next. Out of the group around his bed he chose his sister, Lillian. She moved around the crowd to stand at her brother’s beside, her arm on his shoulder. She was older than Sephyr ever wanted to see her, her grey hair masked only by her hair dye. Certainly she looked good for her age, but that didn’t change the fact that she was nearly sixty. His sweet, baby sister was almost sixty years old.

“Lily I-“ He sighed as she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly as she began to cry. “Hey now, you’re not the one dying today.”

“No, but I’m the one watching my brother die.” She said as she stood up straight, looking deep into his eyes with her own hazel orbs. “And we barely knew each other.”

“Oh I wouldn’t say that. I came to your shows, you avoided mine. I came to New York and you invaded my Mansion twice a year. I knew who your friends were, you knew some of mine. We knew each other as well as any siblings ever do.”

“But we lost so much time because of-“

“Lily please. Don’t even bring him up.” Sephyr looked sad, angry and ashamed in the same breath. “Please, not today. I need one day where I’m not thinkin’ about him and the shit he did.”

“I’m sorry.” She sighed. “I just wish things had been different.”

“We all do, but that’s not how life goes. I’m glad yuh tracked me down. I’m glad yuh came t’ find me, that I got t’ know you when we were adults. I’m proud of the person you are, the person you became. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you were little, but its better I wasn’t. I left you a car, and a bit of money when the mansion is sold, if it’s sold. If not, I’m sure Finn’ll throw you a bone somewhere.” He smiled and patted Lily on the head. “I love you, little sister.”

“I love you too, big brother. I love you so much.”

As Lily stepped away she did not stop at the edge of the crowd like the others head. Instead she stepped right out of the bedroom into the sitting room. Sephyr sighed lightly, knowing she was going to cry. Shockingly, he was thankful she had left. If she’d been balling right next to him, he would have started. He turned his head from the doorway, calling Murry over to him. As soon as the other man was in range, he punched him square in the arm.

“Ow!” The manager howled. “Dude, how do you still punch that hard?”

“I was savin’ it for you.” He replied with a laugh. “One more for old time sake. I’m gonna miss your ugly ass.”

“Funny I was going to say the same thing.” Murry ran a hand over the sore spot on his shoulder. “Now I’m going to have a bruise to remember you by!”

“A bruise, a car, a couple guitars, whatever the kids want out of the mansion. You know, the shit I promised you.”

“Oh what, no money for me?” Murry joked. “Fuck you man.”

“Fuck you too, ass hole.” The tone Sephyr spoke those words in was almost warm, welcoming. The two had been friends for so long, this was the only way they knew to communicate. Anything else would have been wrong. “Good bye, Murry. Was a hell of a ride.”

“Keep ridin’.” Murry replied, leaning down to hug his old friend, holding him for just a moment before he let go. “I love you, you little shit.”

“I love you too, you giant fuck-knuckle.”

Before Sephyr had a chance to call over his next victim, there was a loud knock at the front door. With a puzzled expression, Baxter stepped away from the group as if by instinct. He moved along passed the sobbing woman on the sofa, opening the front door. There was something of a gasp as Baxter drew in breath, stepping aside with a quick “Of course, come in.”

In the bedroom doorway Sephyr could see a man he never expected to show up, even at his deathbed. Roy McCormik stood with a bouquet of flowers. He set them at the foot of the bed, stepping over and placing a hand on Sephyr’s shoulder. “I didn’t know what else to bring.”

“Yourself is more than fine.” Sephyr said with a note of shock. “What the hell are you doin’ here?”

“What does it look like? I’m saying good bye to an old friend. “ Roy tried to smile, but his heart clearly wasn’t in it.

“Oh.” Sephyr managed, a clear hint of sadness in his tone. “I’m glad to see you.”

“I’m so sorry, Sephyr.” Roy said after a moment. “We should have had more time- We should have been better friends.”

“I was the bad friend, Roy.” Sephyr admitted readily. “I tore us all apart. I was never good for anyone, not till I got help. You got away from me an’ lived a great life. Be proud of that. We had some good times durin’ tours. You were always the level headed one.” Sephyr’s hand moved to close around his old friend’s hand. “Thanks for coming Roy. I’m so sorry, for everything.”

“I couldn’t just not come.” The older man sighed. “You are my friend. I’ll miss you. I’m… I’m sorry too.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

The look exchanged between the two of them spoke volumes about the issues they’d had. It was a look of guilt, of sadness, of regret; but a look of caring. Roy was torn apart and Sephyr looked as though he might just break down. Their hands lingered together, clear and untold secrets between them. The ending of a chapter never explored. As Roy took his step back, Sephyr almost didn’t want to let go. He did, in the end, calling both Victoria and Anna to his side. As both girls stepped to either side of his bed, both took one of his hands. He met both of their eyes, squeezing each hand in turn.

“Hey girls.”

“Hey.” Both replied, a laugh on either set of lips, followed by another laugh between the two.

“Anna.” Sephyr started, turning to face her. “I have so much t’ thank you for. You were my beard, an’ you never jidged or even considered takin’ it to the press. I have loved you since we got together.” He chuckled lightly. “An’ I’m so glad you have Sawyer. You were the best beard I ever had.”

“You’re welcome, honey.” Anna replied in her southern drawl. “I loved every minute.”

“I’m sorry, for the things you had to see. I’m sorry for-“

“Don’t.” she shook her head, running her hand through his hair. “I’d do it again and love it just as much knowin’ what was happenin’. I love you. We all love you. Don’t tell me you’re sorry for making us.”

Sephyr was quiet for a moment, pausing when Anna leaned down to brush their lips together for a very brief moment. “I think you deserve rest more than anyone else I know.”

Tears finally rolled down Sephyr’s cheeks as he reached out to hug Anna, a shaky sigh on his lips. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, love.”

As they pulled away, Sephyr wiped tears from his eyes, turning to look at Victoria. The woman standing on his other side was also crying and at that sight, Sephyr’s heart shattered. “Oh come on now.” He managed to get out. “Pretty girl like you, cryin’ over some old codger like me?”

“Shut up.” Victoria snapped almost playfully. “I’ll cry if I want to.”

“S’not your party.” Sephyr said, making a musical joke. There was a long silence between the two of them before Victoria leaned down and wrapped her arms around the older man. He in turn wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you, for everything.”

“My pleasure, old man.” She replied, pausing to draw in a long and shaking breath. “It was so worth it.”

“I’m sorry for the things you had to see when you came.” He said quietly. “And thank you so much for looking after Baxter. Please don’t let ‘em get to sad about this shit. Ain’t worth i- OW.” He howled, head shooting back to look at Victoria, who’s hand had just grazed the top of his head.

“You’re worth it.” She stated very clearly, everyone around her nodding. You changed lives, Sephyr. You changed a lot of lives. Everyone here’s going to miss you so much. Please, for once, give yourself that much credit.”

Sephyr was crying again, his hands moving to his face to hide it for that moment. It felt so good, so right, that at least some of the people in his life had seen him, for him. He had never felt validation like that. His hands dropped and his arms wrapped around himself. His eyes met every set in that room, a genuine and sincere smile on his features. “God, I love all of you so much.”

There was a round of ‘we love you too’s’ and a last hug from Victoria before she stepped away too, rejoining her husband. Baxter, who had been standing next to their daughter, ushered the girl forward. The teenager looked a little unsure of how to approach this situation, her black hair falling in front of her beautiful blue eyes. She stood next to the bed, looking up at her ‘uncle’.

“Hello Iris.”

“Hey uncle Seph.” She said, looking down. “I don’t want to do this.”

“Me neither, kid.” Sephyr said slowly. “But sometimes, this is for the best. You don’t wanna see your uncle bedridden for years, do yuh?”

“Ew. No. You’d hate that.” She had the same look of disgust her father had perfected over the years.

“Then come and give me a hug.” He extended his arms, which she folded herself into readily. “I love you, Iris. I’m so proud of the woman you’re becoming. Listen to your father. He’ll be there for you when you need him most.”

“Don’t worry, Uncle Seph. I’ll keep him safe.” She said quietly, knowingly. She was wise beyond her years. “You can rest.”

“Thanks Iris.” He replied, holding her just a little tighter for a moment. “And don’t you dare let anyone tell you you’re not amazing.”

“Dang right!” She beamed as she pulled back. “I’m Sephyr Steele’s niece!” She giggled, kissed Sephyr on the cheek and trotted back over to her father. She really was one of the smartest children Sephyr had ever met.

And then came the time to say good bye to two of the people he was dreading saying it to. To his left he could see Ellis, waiting patiently to be called on. Sephyr reached out, silently calling the actor to him. As Ellis moved to his side, Sephyr didn’t even speak. He pulled the other man down to himself, tightly wrapping his arms around him. Ellis hugged him back and there were tears on both sides. There was hardly any noise in that moment, both understanding what the other meant just by the urgency in which they held each other. Brothers who had been torn apart and who had almost not recovered. They loved each other so much, but Sephyr’s issues had certainly gotten in the way. As they pulled back from each other, Sephyr didn’t wait for Ellis to speak.

“I’m sorry, and don’t you dare interrupt.” He said quickly. “I’m sorry for telling you I hated you. I’m sorry for not talkin’ t’ you for twenty years. I’m sorry the band broke up, that you’re still alone, that you had to hire someone to loo kafter me. I love you, you are my brother. I’m so fucking sorry you had to deal with all my shit.” He sighed.

“And I’m sorry I outted you.” Ellis replied. “We are both to blame, my brother.” Ellis’ hand moved to the other’s shoulder to squeeze. “The ending to a truthfully amazing man. And what an ending. Your terms, your choice. Exactly what you needed.” The Englishmen smiled down at his long-time friend. “Mom and Dad would be proud.”

“I hope so.” Sephyr looked away. “I miss them, so much.”

“They missed you too, Sephyr. And with any luck, maybe we’ll all see each other again.”

“Who knows.” Sephyr chuckled as Ellis leaned down to look him directly in the eyes.

“I do.” The actor smiled, leaning forward and kissing his best friend, his brother, a man he loved so on the cheek, stepping back. “I love you, very much, Sephyr. And please, when you pass him on the way out, tell Kyle I miss him too.”

“I’ll make sure he gets the memo.” Sephyr said with an almost barking laugh through his own tears. He could feel his heart breaking again. This day was full of that. “He’d miss you too, Ellis Simpkins.”

“Thank you.” Ellis said after a moment. They lingered near to each other for a moment before Ellis stepped away, unable to keep himself from tearing up again any longer. He stepped to the back of the crowd, his misty eyes turned away from the dying man in the bed.

Sephyr knew now who he would have to say good bye too. Finn was the last one there, the last one who needed to say his good byes. The sharp breath he drew in spoke volumes for his dread as he watched all the others who had come to see him drift away from his bed to stand at the end of it. Finn was left standing right next to his father, eyes locked on the older man.

“Do you have to?” He asked, voice almost strangled with the possibility of tears. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”

“Exactly what you do with me.” Sephyr told him, reaching out to take his hand. “Finn.. We’ve known a long time I wasn’t gonna be around forever.”

“I know. Doesn’t mean I’m ready to lose my dad.”

“I know. I’m not really ready to lose my son either.” He sighed lightly, reaching out for his son. Finn curled into his arms, face buried in the older man’s chest. “But I’m so proud of you. I’m so proud of who you are, of what you choose to do with your time, of how generous you are. You’re the best kid a Dad could have asked for.”

“That’s your fault.” Finn cried, tears running down his face. “And I;m not going to be the same without you.”

“You will be.” Sephyr assured him. “You’ve overcome worse than this. I’m just a chapter. You’ve got the resta your life ahead of you. Don’t let me drag yuh down. Go out, help people, do the things you do best. An’ whatever you do, don’t you ever give up music an’ art. I love your art.”

“I promise.” Finn replied. “I promise…”

Sephyr moved to that Finn was held at the end of his arms, a space between them so that Sephyr could look him right in the eyes. “I love you, my boy. I love you so much. You’re my world. I’m proud to have been your father. I’m sorry for some of the things you saw, I’m sorry I wasn’t always the best. But you’re amazing, an’ I have no regrets about taking you on. Please, don’t remember me for this. Bein’ stuck in a bed all day?”

“No.” Finn promised, leaning forward to press his forehead to his father’s. “I’m going to remember you in the Firebird, heading god knows were to do something amazing. Because I’m proud of you too, Dad. You worked so hard to become the man you’ve been for the last fourteen years. I love you so much.”

Sephyr hugged his son again, holding him for a long time as the two cried together. It was one of the hardest things the men and women around Sephyr had ever had to watch, the last good bye between a son and father who shared so many Things. The last moments of a family who found each other when both needed it most. The passing of an epic chapter in the universe.

“Chin up, kiddo.” Sephyr said after a while, Finn sitting up from where he’d curled himself. “It’s almost time.”

“I know.” Finn told the older man. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’m going to miss you to.” Sephyr said slowly. “But I’ll be around. Tones of music t’ hear me in.”

They shared a long look, the last in their good byes as Finn slid off of the bed, standing beside his father. Each person who had said their good byes moved back to the bed to give Sephyr one last long hug. When the rounds were finished and he’d managed to make himself let go of Finn, he watched everyone file out of the apartment. Eventually, when everyone had left, it was just himself and Baxter in the silence of the room. The only sound was Sephyr, a quiet crying from the bed. Baxter let out a low sigh, standing next to his very good friend.

“Are you ready?” The Valet asked, a hand on the older man’s shoulder.

“I dunno.” Sephyr said quietly through the tears. “Thought I was… but that was hard as hell.”

“As you knew it would be, sir.”

“You’re right.” Sephyr cried. “You’re always fuckin’ right.”

“Just as you say.” Baxter said quietly, a small glistening of tears on his own cheeks. “I will miss being right about your life.”

“And I’ll miss you bein’ right.”

Baxter set a small case on the bed in front of Sephyr. “As requested, as provided.” He said slowly. “Your poison of choice.”

“S’weird havin’ you offer it.”

“I would imagine.” Baxter’s tone was flat, almost monotone. “You’ll forgive me. I am just not looking forward to this.”

“Please go.” Sephyr said as he busied himself preparing the massive dose of his former vice. “You don’t need to see me this way.”

“I want to.” Baxter assured him. “A man like you shouldn’t die alone. You were alone much too long already.”

“You have always been too kind to me, Baxter. Just promise this isn’t what you’re gonna remember.”

“No.” Baxter hummed. “The man I will remember is the man who saved my life after only knowing me nine months. That is the man I shall remember fondly.”

“Thank you Baxter.” Sephyr said, tying off his own arm.

When the moment arrived, Sephyr readied himself to let go. He reflected on his life to that point, on the remarkable things he had done through his seventy-one years. It really had been so much better than he’d let it be and while he regretted so much of it there was so much he had enjoyed. He’d met his idols, he’d been mentioned in the same breath as them. He’d made some amazing friends along the way, he’d fallen in love so many times. He’d changed so many lives. In truth, despite everything, he was very proud of himself. In the end of everything, it had been a good life.

“Can yuh hit the music, Bax?” Sephyr asked as he rested the end of the needle against his skin.

“Of course, Sephyr. I would not miss it.”

As he pushed the plunger into the syringe in his arm, he reached out to take Baxter’s hand and held it tightly in his own. He could feel the drugs taking effect, the swimming in his head. Soon he would black out and death would take him quietly. The amount he had taken was much too much for his body or mind to survive. It would kill him, quickly. As the swimming got more and more intense, he settled properly, his eyes sliding shut.

“Good bye, my friend. My brother. Good Bye, Baxter.”

“Good bye, sir.”

As the darkness of death overtook him, there was the slightest smile on his face. A man finally at peace.

#TW: Death #TW: Suicide #TW: Cancer #TW: Illness #sad #Very sad #headcanon #death scene #the end #in the end #Sephyr Dies okay?

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