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#but if someone wants to shed some light on Alice's visions
bellas-tear · 4 years
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I’ve never got Alice’s visions... so hear me out for a quick second i’ve got a theory... 
So she wakes up as a vampire and the only thing that keeps her from losing it is that she sees Jasper and the Cullens right?!
But like how, she can’t have made that decision yet...
She says that the future is always changing, the tiniest detail being different can create a whole new reality... 
And on the logic that she can see super into the future, she MUST have been able to see Bella coming into Edward’s life as soon as she made the decision to move to Forks which would have been weeks or even months before she actually moved - so idk why in canon this isn’t what actually happened... 
Because if Alice saw Bella, she would have known exactly the day that Bella starts school, and would known that Edward couldn’t read her mind and that she was also Edwards singer - so Edward would have been prepared for that and made sure that he hunted and also wasn’t weird and rude and thinking about killing the entire classroom. But Bella would also still be super intrigued by this untidy bronze-haired, golden topaz eyed boy from her Biology class and his pale ass family...
Alice would have been like - she’s cool Edward- you’re going to get along stop beating yourself up that you’re this monster that doesn’t have a soul... she thinks your hot it a mysterious kind of way. Also Eddie bro - you’re going to want to sneak into her bedroom and watch her sleep, that’s not so cute, so maybe don’t do that, so maybe like go on a date with her first and go to dinner with her...
But wait... Edward is going to be experiencing this vision at the exact same time because he’s a flipping mindreader, so he’s super prepared, and is already lowkey, highkey in love with Bella even before they meet, but he’s like - play it cool Edward, maybe don’t give her the mixtape of songs you made that remind you of her brown eyes and the way her heart flutters when you say her name...
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crystalirises · 3 years
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Alice of Human Sacrifice AU
hahaha glass coffin go brrrr
Trigger Warning though, this contains Insanity, Death, Suicide, and Murder
Beware pls
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31985884/chapters/80181121
In recorded history, there have been nine eight Alices in Wonderland.
This tale, however, focuses on the second and seventh sixth Alice.
To begin, we take a look at the second Alice. An unfortunate yet passionate soul who wandered deep into Wonderland in his quest to find his brother. Little did he know, he’d never come home.
The second alice was a man of music, a guitar strapped to his back while he fruitlessly wandered through Wonderland. He was a pure soul, charming and beautiful. With every song that came from his lips, all of Wonderland fell in love with his melodies. He sang songs of wonder, tales of past heroes who succeeded in their quests. He forgot that most heroes ended tragically.
With more people flocking to listen to his songs, he forgot his quest.
He forgot the reason he came to Wonderland. The praise and the people’s love consumed him from within, leading him further astray from his goal. Soon enough, all he could do was sing songs and hymns to the people who demanded more and more. His own songs drove him mad.
But to digress, who was this Alice? Who was he before the dream consumed him?
The second Alice, before he became an Alice, was a man named Wilbur Soot.
He was a musician, but first and foremost, he was a family man at heart.
He used to live in a quaint little cottage on the outskirts of a village with his son and three brothers. They were an inseparable family, along with their closest friends the Fernmis family. Wilbur Soot was an ambitious man, but he always placed his family before his own hopes and dreams. While two of his brothers were of the combative side, he preferred to spend his days composing melodies. He would perform in the village square, and the people loved to hear him sing. He would sometimes bring his son with him, for the boy was blessed with a musical charm like his father. Their songs filled the people’s hearts and minds. It was a perfectly blissful life.
Until his twin brother went missing.
For a year, no one knew where the esteemed warrior went. If he was even alive or dead.
Then one night, the musician heard a voice within his dreams. A cry for aid. His brother’s cry.
Wilbur had immediately packed his bags the next day, for he could still hear his twin’s voice in his mind. His friends and family had looked at him with worry, afraid that he’d lost it. But he knew Techno. He knew his brother. And so, he prepared to go on a long journey, his brother’s voice his only guide. He bid farewell to those he loved, pressing a kiss to each of their cheeks.
After days of walking (or perhaps it had been months?), he came across a clearing and went to sleep. When he awoke, he found himself in Wonderland. Like the tale states, he sang his way through the land, beckoning people to his melodies and hymns. He gained fame and adoration.
Yet the longer he stayed, far from those who truly loved him, his brother’s voice fading until it was finally lost within the deepest recesses of his mind, a piece of him snapped inside. He stumbled away from the adoring crowd, their booes echoing in his ears the moment his tired and bleeding figures stopped strumming. His cries of help were muted from days of endless singing.
When he stumbled near the riverside, his fingers coated in mud, he saw the glint of silver before him. Like it was fated to be, he pulled out a silver gun from the earth, hands shaking while his gaze fixed upon its shiny visage. Nevermind his quest. Nevermind his brother who was lost to the madness of Wonderland. He dared not stay another second in that hellish landscape. He threw one last glance at the screaming mob, steady while he aimed the gun to his temple. As his fingers pressed the trigger, he could only pray that those he left behind would forgive him for leaving.
But that’s not where the story ends, now is it? For it was not the second Alice’s faith to die. No, his fate was worse. After all, there are far worse fates than death. That, he would come to know.
He awoke once again. Reborn. His head aching while loud ringing screamed in his ear. The dream would not let him die. For he was now the second Alice. And the dream would not permit him to die. With the gun in his hand, his mind muffled by voices not his own, he turned the barrel towards the rushing crowd. Their screaming was the cause of his pain. Their hatred was the cause of his agony. He wanted them gone. He wanted them purged. So, he took aim and fired.
Again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and—
Nevermind that his mind was morphing these strangers to look like his loved ones. He knew deep down that these were nothing but visions, they weren’t there. His twin brother had long since died or succumbed to his own madness, and he had left everyone else within reality. So he shot and shot. He didn’t care for the blood that spilled on the ground, the red roses that bloomed from their bodies. These people were husks, sacrifices that the dream demanded from him. He was stuck now, eternally tormented with the image of his loved ones dying again and again.
In the aftermath of his spree, he was left alone, a silver gun in hand and his path coated in red. He looked down at the corpses, heart breaking and mind darkening with every dead gaze he met. They were his loved one’s eyes. But no, that couldn’t be. They were safe. He was sure of that. The voices in his head whispered sweet praises into his ear, urging him to wander the forest in search for more souls to claim, for more blood to shed. Wilbur, no, the second Alice did as he was told. He stepped over the bodies, disappearing into the forest to find more sacrifices. He was doomed to this fate. He should not have strayed so far from home, now he would never be free.
Now the sixth Alice… Now that story is quite the tragedy. Although, aren’t they all? But there is a different kind of pain to search for a man you barely knew, but heard so much about, only to meet your end at the hands of the man who was supposed to love you. A tragedy, indeed, no?
That’s the tale of the sixth Alice, the corpse… otherwise known as the late Fundy Soot.
It had been years since he’d last seen his father in person, the man a fading memory in the back of his mind. He was young, ambitious, and scared. Niki, one of his best friends and a member of the Fernmis family who had taken him in the moment everyone in his family disappeared, had been missing. There were whispers in the village about what could have happened to her. He preferred the rumor that she had found a rich princess to marry in some far off distant land.
But Fundy did not believe in dreams or fantasy.
Niki was out there. Alive but lost. He had to believe in that.
Though his other best friend had warned him not to do anything rash, Fundy waited for the opportune time. When the moon was high in the night sky, the clouds blocking the light of the stars, he crawled out of his open window. With a small pack in hand, he raced towards the forest. He had lost everyone in his family, a fact that was not forgotten by the villagers. They murmured his name, pegged him as a curse. He cared not for the villagers’ opinions, but he had to do more than wait. Niki was out there. Fundy needed to find her. With one last look towards his home, he turned away. He would find Niki and bring her home. He won’t lose someone again. He won’t.
Well, you know what they say. Like father, like son. Fundy walked for miles, until he finally collapsed in a meadow of flowers, the sun scorching his back. He fell into a deep sleep, and when he awoke, he was in Wonderland. Fundy stared into the blood red sky, the long gangly trees seemed to cage him from all around as glowing yellow eyes stared at him from the gray gloom of the forest. Fundy swallowed down his worries and his fears. He had a quest to finish.
But, you see, his quest was a hopeless one. His life meant nothing to the world of Wonderland. He was nothing. After all, the dream did not have a use for non-believers. Fundy was nothing.
But deeper he went into Wonderland, yet not a single soul did he come upon. The longer he walked, he swore he could hear peculiar sounds within the forest. The first sound was a low chuckle, followed after by a scream. The second sound was the sharp sound of a gun shooting deep within the darkness. The third sound was that of a crowd, a small glimpse of a castle appearing among the tops of trees. The fourth sound was low murmuring, like the whisper of death. The fifth and last sound was the roar of a raging fire, heat licking at the back of his heels.
Then he was out of the forest, coming upon a clear silver river.
But he wasn’t alone. He didn’t get the chance to scream before a bullet pierced through his heart.
The sixth Alice was gone in a second. Dead. With just one bullet, he was gone.
The musician madman of Wonderland had laughed for a few minutes. How dare the dream send another husk of his son? Hasn’t he shown how tired he was of murdering countless doppelgangers? The dream had thought it amusing to haunt him with the image of his son, but he was done playing the dream’s games. He knew that nothing was real. That everything was but a horrible dream. Like all the others, this corpse would soon fade away into a red and bloody rose.
But what bloomed instead was a rose of blue, speckles of orange decorating the petal and its thorny stem. The flower grew around the corpse, wrapping around the poor son’s neck like a necklace. The body had not faded. It would never fade for the dream knew that the father would shoot without hesitation, and it had ensured that the corpse would remain eternal, dead but never rotting. A second passed. A minute passed. An hour passed. But the corpse remained. The madman approached the corpse with unsteady feet, breath stuck in his throat while a hand reached towards a cool cheek. He had left a kiss on this cheek once, when he’d first left home.
He screamed, fingers clawing at the flower that had wrapped around his son’s neck, but it clung to the skin. For a moment he imagined that his son was whimpering. That by tearing at the rose, he was hurting his son. He took a shaky breath, the voices slithering back into his mind again.
His son was sleeping. He was alive. He hadn’t killed his son, of course he didn’t. The madman laughed to himself. His baby was just sleeping. It was a long trip to Wonderland, of course his baby would be tuckered out. And so, he drew his son up into his arms, content to wander the land with the corpse that would never wake again. If anyone were to draw near, the madman would shoot them where he stood. His son was sleeping, and he’d kill anyone who dared to wake him. The madman would continue his murder spree, for the sake of his sleeping son, he will continue.
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Now if you ever find yourself in Wonderland.
There’s two warnings involved with the second and sixth Alice.
If you ever come across a mausoleum near a river, a glass coffin inside.
Run, but never scream or make noise.
Lest, you want a bullet in your head.
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Do note that this is a bit different from the actual Vocaloid song, this au was inspired by that song but some stuff has changed. For instance, there are nine Alices here instead of the original five within the song.
Also, it doesn't matter much but the Alices here are just:
First Red Alice - Techno First Blue Alice - Wilbur First Green Alice - Dream First Yellow Alice - Tommy and Tubbo Second Red (Pink) Alice - Niki Second Blue (Orange) Alice - Fundy Second Green Alice - Eret Second Yellow Alice - Ranboo The dream - Blood god (dying god)
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lovlydovlyjaycie · 3 years
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The Walking Dead / Supernatural: A World Changed
Hii so this is gonna be a story about a crossover but also not really a crossover from the walking dead and supernatural.
Summary: Y/N is from Boston and moved to Los Angeles to be a nanny, she’s been doing it for a while now and loves the two, soon to be three, children like they were her own. One day she goes to work and it seems like the world around her is falling apart. People are dying, unbeknownst to her they are coming back to live. She is trying to find a way so she stays alive and the people around her too and she needs help, but she’d rather does it on her own.
This part will talk more about what happened before y/n met the Winchesters. This will tell us why y/n has a hard time trusting people and staying in one place. There will be flashbacks and they are all written in italics.
Characters: Y/N, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Jack, Jody Mills, Donna Hanscum, Claire Novak, OC Clark Cattaneo, OC Jayden Cattaneo OC Alice Cattaneo,  OC Mark Cattaneo , OC Birdy Cattaneo, Johnny, Nancy, John, Rob
Warnings: DEATH, angst, language, violence. You might not want to read this if you’re squeamish about blood and dead bodies.
The Devil - PJ Harvey
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=09019xe0TiQ
Part 7 The lighter 
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I got ready for bed and was about to get in something more comfortable to sleep in when I heard a loud scream. I quickly went downstairs to see what was going on. “AAAHHH!” I heard it coming from outside. I didn’t see anybody, but it sounded close. I walked in the driveway to see if I could see anybody outside, but it was pitch black. The only place it could really be coming from was the shed. Maybe Johnny hurt himself inside? I quickly ran towards the shed. The door was slightly open, but when I got in I saw something horrific.
I backed up against the wall and clasped my hand over my mouth. “Oh my God.” I whispered. My legs gave out and I dropped to the floor.
My eyes started tearing up and I felt sick to my stomach. Bodies where hanging from the ceiling. Three bodies with blood pooled underneath them. The arms legs and heads where taken off. I blinked my eyes hoping that my mind was tricking me. But when I opened my eyes again everything was still there. I was frozen in my spot. Too afraid to move. I wanted to go to bed and pretend that all of this was just a really bad dream. I started pinching myself to see if I was dreaming now, but no, it was all still here. 
Then I heard some labored breathing from the back of the shed. I stood up as quietly as I could not to make any sound. I looked to the back and saw a human laying on a table trying to move. I quickly looked around for something to use as a weapon and to my left a saw a crowbar standing against the wall. I grabbed it and held it tightly with two hands and put it in front of me. 
I slowly walked towards the table where I saw a human laying. Getting closer I saw it was Ezra. As soon as I realized that and I really didn’t see anybody around I lowered the crowbar but still held it tightly, ready for anything.
“Ezra?” I said quietly. “Are you ok?” She was covered in blood and had a nasty cut on her forehead. Her mouth was covered with tape. She looked at me really scared. “It’s ok. I’m here to get you out.” I said reassuring her. I pulled the tape off so she could speak and I got her hands and feet loose from the table. “What happened? Where’s Noah?” I asked again. She looked towards a body that was hanging from the ceiling. The head was gone. A tear fell down my cheek. Who could do something like this? “Who did this?” I asked. I knew something wasn’t right with them. I feel stupid that I never investigated more. Or just left. How could I be this stupid. “You’re friend did this.” Ezra said sitting up on and hopping off the table. “Who? Rob?” He was always strange to me. Was this why. 
My thoughts got broken up with when I saw Johnny walk in. He saw me straight away. So I decided to stand in front of Ezra. Hoping that he wouldn’t hurt me if I was in the way.
“What is this, Johnny?” I said in disbelief. I put up the crowbar. He was slowly coming closer. “I’ll explain everything to you if you put the crowbar down. It’s not as bad as you think.” He said calmly. “Not as bad as you think? THERE ARE BODIES HANING FROM THE CEILING, JOHNNY!” He kept getting closer. “Just calm do-” “STOP MOVING RIGHT NOW! DON’T COME ANY CLOSER.” I yelled and he listened. “Y/n, we’re surviving. And sometimes we just have to do something that not everybody likes. But it’s for the best. Like this we get to eat.” He explained. I sucked in some air. I felt light headed. “The pork..” I stated. I can’t believe this. Suddenly a new rush of anger flooded me. “You’ve been giving my children human flesh this en- entire time.” I stuttered. How could anybody be so sick and twisted to do such a thing. “So they could have everything they need to live. Just take some time to understand. I know it’s a lot to ta-” “No shut up with the ‘I understand’ BULLSHIT.” I interrupted. “It’s ok, just put the crowbar down and we can talk about this.” He tried to reason. “NO! Are you crazy?! The living are supposed to safe the people that are still alive. And you- You’re just.. You’re killing them and eating them.. You’re sick. Is your family in on it too?” I asked. “Yes, and if you give me a chance to explain you’ll understand. We’re all trying to survive here.” I was furiously shaking my head. “NO.” How could somebody do this.
“I’m taking my kids and Ezra out of here and you’ll never see us again.” I said to Johnny. “I can’t do that. It’s not safe for you and the kids out there. Here we can protect you.” He came closer now. “Stay back!” But he kept inching closer. “I know you won’t hurt me y/n. Just give me the crowbar.” I shook my head. “NO STAY BACK!” He wouldn’t listen, he was right in front of me now. Ezra took a step back afraid of what Johnny might do to her. Johnny put his hand on the crowbar. I was frozen. “Let go, it’s alright. Just let go. You don’t want to do this.” He said in his calming voice.
“NO!” And I hit him in the head. He fell back, but gathered himself quickly. I swung at him again and hit him in the shoulder. “Aahh!” But he brushed it off quickly and grabbed my arm. I twisted quickly and elbowed him in the face. Now his nose was bleeding badly. “YOU BITCH!” He charged at me, but I quickly swung again with the crowbar and he fell to the ground. I sat on him so him and pushed the crowbar sideways on his neck. He was trying to push me off, but I tried putting all my weight on him so he couldn’t get the crowbar off. “I TRUSTED YOU!” I yelled at him. He gave my kids human flesh. How could he. Then he flipped me over and I dropped the crowbar. I tried to quickly get to it. But I got pulled by my legs towards him. Johnny flipped me around and put his hands on my neck. I scratched at his hands trying to get him off, but no luck. I was starting to see stars and feel really light headed. My vision almost turned black when suddenly Johnny fell off of me.
Ezra was holding the crowbar and had hit him in the back of his head. I grabbed the crowbar from her hands and straddled Johnny again. This time sticking the pointy end towards his throat. “What happened to saving the people who are still alive?” He tried. “You’re not worth saving.” I said as I pushed the crowbar down. Johnny was struggling and chocking on his own blood. When he stopped moving I pulled out the crowbar and stood up.
“Let’s get out of here.” I said out of breath. Ezra just nodded.
We got out of the shed when someone said. “Put your hands up.” A tall dark man said. Then he looked at Ezra. “Ez.. Are you ok? Where’s Noah?” He hugged Ezra. “He’s.. He’s dead.” She said crying in his chest. After a moment Two more people came walking up. “Who’s she?” They started pointing their guns at me. “No no! She saved me. If it wasn’t for her I’d be dead too.” They lowered their guns when the tall dark man nodded at them. The was my que to put my hands down too.
Ezra started explaining what had happened when they got here. They never helped Noah. They had led them straight to the shed and knocked them out. I just looked down. I felt sick that I trusted these people. “Is that your blood?” The tall man asked. “No.” I said. 
“The rest? Are they inside?” He asked. “Yes, they’re sleeping.” I felt dead inside. Never have I ever felt this betrayed in my life.
“Ok, Zane, Josh, we’re going inside and finish this.” They nodded their heads. Ready to walk in. “NO! Let me go in first. My children are inside.” They nodded in understanding. “Five minutes.” I nodded.
I quickly ran towards the house and was about to run upstairs when something shimmered in the light on the dining table. It was John’s lighter. That fucker. I grabbed the lighter and went to the kitchen and put the crowbar down on the counter. I looked underneath the the counter to find anything that would burn. Lighter flued. That would do it. I walked towards the stairs and sprayed it on. When that looked good enough I sprayed a little downstairs and then I put the lighter in my pocket and quietly went upstairs.
I tried as quietly as I could to walk to the doors of Robe and John and Nancy. I had made a trail towards their door and started spraying it. When I was out I went to my room by the stairs to get Clark and Jayden. They were sound asleep.
“Hey sweetie. It’s time to wake up.” I said quietly to Clark. He slowly opened his eyes and had a scared look on his face. “What happened to your face mommy?” I looked at the mirror and saw myself covered in blood. Johnny’s blood. “It’s ok. We gotta leave. now sweetie. Put your shoes on.” He did as he was told and I stood up and grabbed my bag that I luckily already had packed. Clark had put on his shoe quickly. “Where are we going mommy?” I grabbed his hand and picked up Jayden. “Away from here.” And we walked downstairs.
Clark was so tired. As we got outside I asked the tall man “Could you hold him for a second there is something I need to get.” I quickly ran inside and got to the closet where they kept the guns. I got my things and a extra hand gun. Before I got outside I got the lighter that was in my pocket and opened it. For a second I looked at the flame. Then I threw it at the stairs and walked away. “Burn in hell.” I said under my breath.
When I got outside I noticed something moving by the shed. It was coming closer. It was Johnny. How could I forget. They always turn. 
“Mommy is that Johnny?” Clark asked. “Look away sweetie.” I said quickly as I turned him around. 
“Let me handle it.” The tall man said. The tall man walked towards Johnny and put a knife in his head. 
“Why is Johnny like the monsters now?” Clark asked, trying to understand what’s going on. “I’ll explain it to you when your a little older. Now lets get out of here. It’s getting hot.”
The house was going to attract a lot of the dead, we needed to get out of here as fast as we could.
-
Present day
“I felt so guilty that Clark saw him like that. I still feel guilty.” I told Al. This was not a fun memory to talk about, but it felt good to finally get it off my chest.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” She said. “And that’s how you got here?” She asked.
“No, after that They asked me if I wanted to come with them. They had a group of fifteen. And the tall man, Jay, was their leader. I had agreed to come with them, but I don’t think I stayed longer than two week with them.” I looked over at Clark he was walking over to me. He sat against my legs on the ground and played there with his sticks.
“Why did you leave?” She asked. I looked at Jayden who was slowly waking up. 
“We left because there was nothing to really protect us. They were looking for a place to stay when we got there, but hadn’t found it yet. So we where sleeping outside in the wilderness where anything could just catch us. There was also a lot of tension in the group before I got there. It also didn’t help that I used to live with the people that killed Noah. So they didn’t really want me there to begin with. So I decided to leave. I got everything ready to go, but then there was a herd coming. Everything went so quickly, but we got out in time before anything happened to us. Ezra had come with us too and we found a car. But she wanted to go back and check if there was anybody that survived. So we parted ways. Then I got in Nebraska somewhere and two brothers had found me and took me in somewhere in Kansas. But I only stayed for about a day. And now I’m here.”
“Why did you leave them?” Al asked.
“Because it always ends bad. How can I trust people after that?” I stated.
“Well, you’re trusting me with you’re story. Did they leave a weird impression?” she asked.
“No, not really, but they were hiding something. That made me make this decision.”
“Everybody has got their own story. They could just not be ready to tell you theirs yet. Did you tell them yours?” I shook my head. That was true I hadn’t told them about me. “So maybe, just give them time to let them tell you when they’re ready and you do the same. If that’s the only thing?”
“That is the only thing.” I stated simply. Maybe I was to rash in making the decision to leave. It seemed safe enough over there. The people seemed nice. Did I really make that mistake? “You’re right..” I should go back. If they’ll still have me. “I need to go back. It was safe there.” I was basically talking to myself now.
“I can give you a ride.. If that’s your story?” I nodded my head at Al and she turned the camera off. “Alright let’s go then. I probably can’t get you there all the way, but I’ll give you a good start.” She smiled. “Thank you.. For everything. I guess I needed this more than I thought.”
We got in her truck and started driving off.
After about twenty minutes. We saw a car coming up. It was the car Dean and Sam drove in when they found me. “That’s them.” I said. Al stopped her truck and we all got out.
“Y/n?” Dean said when he was getting out of the car. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.” That made me smile. “If it’s something we did.. I- I’m sorry.” “No.” I quickly responded. “You didn’t do anything. I just needed time to figure something out, but I’m ok now.”
“Are you Ok?” Sam asked as he got out of the car. “I’m ok. Clark and Jayden too.”
“Do you still want to come back with is?” Dean asked. “If you’ll have me. Yes.”
...
..
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Hope you liked it! Let me know what you think :)
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mizutoyama · 4 years
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HPHM OTP Playlist
(Inspired by @drinkyoursoupbitch​ & @carewyncromwell​ )
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Alice Beaumont x Charlie Weasley
It’s a long one... Sorry 😅(Been writing down songs that reminded me of Charlie and Alice’s relationship and its evolution for some time now...)
The order, while not perfect, is important. We start with Charlie realizing his feelings for Alice, followed by Alice’s own (very) slow realization, them dating through highs and lows, them breaking up, after the break up, until they finally find their ways toward each other again.
You came into my life
And I thought hey
You know this could be something
Two Is Better Than One (Boys Like Girls, Taylor Swift)
Oh I feel overjoyed
When you listen to my words
I see them sinking in
Overjoyed (Bastille)
Hey Juliet
I think you're fine.
You really blow my mind
Maybe some day you and me can run away.
I just want you to know.
I wanna be your Romeo.
Juliet (LMNT)
I remember the day we first met
The shy smiles and the spilling sunlight
I knew, just by looking into your eyes
Neverending story (Stray Kids)
She watches the sunset slip out of sight
She points to the lilacs in bloom
Her eyes filled with wonder
And my eyes they do the same
Just looking at her face
Looking at Her Face (Tyrone Wells)
What could a guy like me
Ever really offer?
She's perfect as she can be
Why should I even bother? 
She’s so High (Tal Bachman)
This night is sparkling, don't you let it go
I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home
I'll spend forever wondering if you knew
Enchanted (Owl City)
I think you're pretty
Without any makeup on
I think you're funny
When you tell the punchline wrong
Teenage Dream (The Rescues)
New and a bit alarming
Who'd have ever thought that this could be
True, that he's no Prince Charming
But there's something in him that I simply didn't see
Something There (Beauty and the Beast)
How can I love when I'm afraid to fall
But watching you stand alone
All of my doubt, suddenly goes away somehow
A Thousand Years (Christina Perri)
You might need time to think it over
But I'm just fine moving forward
I'll ease your mind if you give me the chance
I will never make you cry, c'mon let's try
Beautiful Soul (Jesse McCartney)
So this is the miracle
That I've been dreaming of
Mmm, mmm
So this is love
So This Is Love (Cinderella)
'Cause lovers dance when they're feelin' in love
Spotlight's shinin' it's all about us
It's all about us
And every heart in the room will melt
This is a feeling I've never felt but
It's all about us
All About Us (He Is We)
Remember those walls I built
Well, baby, they're tumbling down
And they didn't even put up a fight
They didn't even make a sound
Halo (Beyonce)
You've got me seeing stars brighter than ever
Shining just like diamonds do
I know that in time it could be all ours, brighter than ever
Your love is such a dream come true
Seeing Stars (Børns)
You’re already in my radius
My eyes are already a pair of binoculars
Other guys are outside my vision
Only you are growing bigger
Adrenaline (Girls’ Generation -TaeTiSeo)
As I looked up into those eyes, his vision borrows mine
And I know he's no stranger
For I feel I've held him for all of time
Ordinary Day (Vanessa Carlton)
It's a new world it's a new start
It's alive with the beating of young hearts
It's a new day it's a new plan
I've been waiting for you
Here I am
Here I Am (Bryan Adams)
I've got somewhere I belong
I got somebody to love
This is what dreams are made of
What Dreams Are Made Of (Hilary Duff)
You're the fire and the flood
And I'll always feel you in my blood
Everything is fine
When your hand is resting next to mine
Fire and the Flood (Vance Joy)
Do you feel the lightning inside of you
Will you follow through if I fall for you?
Don't look down
Up this high, we'll never hit the ground
Don’t Look Down (Martin Garrix)
And I'm racking my brain for a new improved way
To let you know your more to me than what I know how to say
You're OK with the way this is going to be
Must Have Done Something Right (Reliant K)
I can show you the world
Shining, shimmering, splendid
Tell me, princess, now when did you last let your heart decide?
A Whole New World (Aladdin)
When you're near, I hide my blushing face
And trip on my shoelaces
Grace just isn't my forté
I Do Adore (Mindy Gledhill)
She calls me sweetheart
I love it when she wakes me when it's still dark
And she watches the sun
But she's the only one I have my eyes on
I Must Be Dreaming (The Maine)
And Edison would spin in his grave
To ever see the light that you gave
Don't wanna take it nice and slow here
Don't wanna waste a minute more dear
Warmer Climate (Snow Patrol)
There's something about you I can't describe
If only you could see yourself through my eyes
There is nothing I won't do to show you why
You cannot hide, you're simply one of a kind
Something About You (Lucius)
Never knew I could feel like this
Like I've never seen the sky before
Want to vanish inside your kiss
Everyday I love you more and more
Come What May (Moulin Rouge)
My wildest dreamings
Could not foresee
Lying beside you
With you wanting me
As Long As You’re Mine (Wicked)
Make your fingers soft and light Let your body be the velvet of the night Touch my soul, you know how Andante, andante Go slowly with me now
Andante, Andante (Mamma Mia 2)
You be the Beast and I'll be the Beauty, beauty
Who needs true love as long as you love me truly.
I want it all, but I want you more
Wonderlands (Natalia Kills)
If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars (Snow Patrol)
You're the reason that I feel so strong
The reason that I'm hanging on
Mess is Mine (Vance Joy)
There comes a time you need to let me know
We'll fight your demons
When they start to show
Circles (As Tall As Lions)
And when you're needing your space
To do some navigating
I'll be here patiently waiting
To see what you find
I Won't Give Up (Jason Mraz)
So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light
'Cause oh that gave me such a fright
But I will hold as long as you like
Just promise me we'll be alright
Ghosts That We Knew (Mumford & Sons)
I don't want to talk right now
I just want your arms wrapped around
Me and this moment before it runs out
Eavesdrop (The Civil Wars)
You're a wreck and you know
You've got me wrapped around your finger
Like a boy tangled in vines
But I've figured you out
Daisy (The Maine)
You tell me all the things you do
Tell me that it's up to you
Crying in the peaceful night
Telling all the things you hide
But out there in the future
Maybe you're the rainbow
A Song About Love (Jake Bugg)
All I want is to keep you safe from the cold
To give you all that your heart needs the most
May I (Trading Yesterday)
Tell me that you'll stay
Even when I'm far away
My voice will carry through
Until the end it's me & you
We can make it if we try
Silhouette (Active Child)
Pain or tears, let's change them into stars.
Light a light that will shine on our tomorrow.
Though we may waver now and then, let's do this together;
We'll find that forever, glittering brightly with stardust.
Let it out (Miho Fukuhara)
And when you cry a piece of my heart dies
Knowing that I may have been the cause
If you were to leave and fulfill someone else's dreams
I think I might totally be lost
The Girl (City and Colour)
I don't know where you're going
And I don't know why,
But listen to your heart
Before you tell him goodbye
Listen to Your Heart (DHT)
Can I embrace you one last time?
Can I bid farewell for the last time?
Just please don't forget those loving, happy memories
Driving Me Crazy (Master’s Sun)
But it was not your fault but mine
And it was your heart on the line
I really fucked it up this time
Didn't I, my dear?
Little Lion Man (Mumford & Sons)
If I was a burden to you
If I was a baggage
I should’ve left you earlier, I’m sorry
Happy (2NE1)
It's been seven hours and fifteen days
Since you took your love away
I go out every night and sleep all day
Since you took your love away
Nothing Compares to You (Stereophonics)
Sometimes I find myself sittin' back and reminiscing
Especially when I have to watch other people kissin'
And I remember when you started callin' me your miss's
All the play fightin', all the flirtatious disses
Littlest Things (Lily Allen)
You said this was all for me
Like a lie, you coldly turned around
Why? Why? You’re gone away
Come Back Home (Unplugged Ver.) (2NE1)
The time when anything made us happy
Looking at each other
You were my strength
When you trusted me
LUV (Apink)
I will miss you the more I erase you
I will shed more tears than today
Like fate, I won’t ever have anyone like you
Good bye my love (Ailee)
I'm sorry that I hurt you
It's something I must live with everyday
And all the pain I put you through
I wish that I could take it all away
And be the one who catches all your tears
The Reason (Hoobastank)
Well, you only need the light when it's burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go
Let Her Go (Passenger)
I tossed and turned in the end
With no one to talk to
I searched again and again
But I never found you
Up All Night (Owl City)
You didn’t say anything, and it was over
I didn’t say anything too, that was our end
The past was still clear
MILK (f(x))
But now the sun shines cold
And all the sky is grey
The stars are dimmed by clouds and tears
And all I wish
Is gone away
To Wish Impossible Things (The Cure)
Et au sud de mes peines j'ai volé loin de toi
Pour couvrir mon cœur d'une cire plus noire
Que tous les regards lancés à mon égard
J'ai tenté de voler loin de toi
C'était salement romantique (Coeur de pirate) (Decided not to put the translation ‘cause the one I found was bad.)
Don’t look back and leave
Don’t find me again and just live on
Because I have no regrets from loving you,
so only take the good memories
Haru Haru (Big Bang)
Even if you easily turn away,
easily get farther apart
I know I won’t easily forget you
If you see me, still the same, still like this
You will call me a fool
And One (Taeyeon)
The one person who appears even when I close my eyes
The person who is next to me even in my dreams
Do you even remember me?
Do you even think of me?
I miss you, please
The One Person, You (Jessica)
It's always times like these
When I think of you
And wonder if you ever think of me
Cause everything's so wrong and I don't belong
Living in your precious memory
A Thousand Miles (Vanessa Carlton)
Come up to meet you
Tell you I'm sorry
You don't know how lovely you are
I had to find you
Tell you I need you
The Scientist (Coldplay)
I just wanna love you again
Please come back to me girl
We just broke up but we need each other
Come back to me, you feel the same way
Wanna Love You Again (2PM)
Tired of being tangled in this mess and I
I'm ready to wish you the best tonight
Let me let you go
Let Me Let You Go (Namie Amuro)
Whoever I'll be gazing at, whoever I'll be spending time with,
a day when I can forget you won't come
I'll keep loving you in my heart,
but we can't be together anymore
Cause life's no love story
Love Story (Namie Amuro)
Think of all the things
We've shared and seen
Don't think about the way
Things might have been
Think of Me (Phantom of the Opera)
Now she's here shining in the starlight
Now she's here suddenly I know
If she's here it's crystal clear
I'm where I'm meant to go
I See the Light (Tangled)
Why are you looking down all the wrong roads
When mine is the heart and the soul of the song
There may be lovers who hold out their hands but
He'll never love you like I can
Like I Can (Sam Smith)
And I will swallow my pride
You're the one that I love
And I'm saying goodbye
Say Something (A Great Big World)
If I would have known that you wanted me
The way I wanted you
Then maybe we wouldn't be two worlds apart
But right here in each others arms
Almost Is Never Enough (Ariana Grande)
Why kiss another frog
You're the only one I want
It's obvious, Why can't you see?
Wontcha Take me to the place we used to meet
A Place Called You (Emma Stevens)
Can we start it all over again, this morning?
I lost all my defenses, this morning
Won't you show me the way it used to be?
Morning (Beck)
I will love you unconditionally
There is no fear now
Let go and just be free
I will love you unconditionally
Unconditionally (Katy Perry)
If you’ve gotten this far, congrats! And thank you! While this playlist has many songs, it’s only the tip of the iceberg.
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Dear Nothing (2/?)
Flanking the sides of the highway were trees shedding their leaves, and houses decreasing in property value the farther the taxi drove from the city.
Pop music played softly as the driver made a familiar turn.
Alice scrolled through recommended posts on her social media.
A girl had just been sentenced to life for putting several bullets through the skull of the child trafficker who deflowered her. Police had been aware of the man’s activities for years, but did not hold him in custody. Perhaps they had been paid off. More likely, they simply did not care.
A photo of former high school classmates in matching dark blue Hilfiger bikinis appeared on her feed.
“Besties forever ^_^” the caption read.
In her peripheral vision, blue and red lights flickered.
“Maybe someone died,” her driver said.
Wherever one went, whatever one did, whoever one spoke to, there was death. Everyone understood this. It was not a profound statement. Whether it was car accidents, collapsed condominium foundations, climate change induced typhoons in Southeast Asia, incurable cancer, or novel contagious diseases, one could not escape the slithering shadows of decay.
Perhaps the death was inside the vehicle she rode. Perhaps it floated in the air she shared with a stranger. Perhaps it stuck to the car handles, or the window pane, or to a small corner of the seat cushioning which had not been meticulously cleaned enough.
It was futile dwelling on such things.
The driver was from another country. Yet, he understood the highways and streets of the city better than those who lived in a place without systematically analyzing how it functioned. She noticed he was one of the few drivers she had rode with who did not have google maps open. Judging from the grey appearing in his temples, he had been around for longer than when driving people about the city had burgeoned into a low paid gig-economy.
In other words, he knew what people in his social class needed to know.
The wealthy didn’t really need to know anything concrete to get around. While the impoverished might know alleyways and which abandoned complexes were less dangerous, and have roads of the city imprinted into their minds, they did not know the right people.
Alice always found car rides to be calming. Not serene, however. Serene had connotations with nature utterly incongruous with vehicles. 
Her thoughts drifted to a jovial classmate from middle school, who perished a few years ago from a reckless driver. 
“Where do you want me to park?”
“Over there is fine.”
“I cannot park on the road.”
“Oh, sorry, I meant over in that parking lot just ahead.”
“I can park on the side of the building in front.”
She checked, then double checked, then triple checked to ensure she had her wallet and phone safely stored in her zippered coat pocket, and that the contents were all neatly tucked and zippered in place. 
The driver maneuvered the car parallel to the sidewalk before the upperclassmen dormitories and pushed on the brakes. Then he exited the vehicle and began pulling the luggage from the trunk.
“Thank you,” she said through her mask. The driver lifted her luggage from the trunk, and onto the sidewalk.
“Have a good day, miss,” he said. He returned to the driver’s seat, shut the door, and went on his way.
The grass was as green as it was any other year. Here and there, squirrels scurried about cutely. Nothing had changed for them. Their small features were indistinguishable to her. A few had dark brown fur. Some of them may have been the same baby squirrels she had seen as a freshman during the summer. When one of them died, she never saw the remains. Perhaps the workers covering the grounds saw them. She never thought too deeply about where their bodies went. 
When people died, there were ceremonies. It costs money to bury or cremate someone. Humans had large bodies and there were government offices that needed to be notified if someone was no longer alive. 
She swirled her suitcase behind her as she walked towards her arranged housing.
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13x07 ~ Cravings: Part I
Summary: The boys stumble upon a case involving victims being found chained to autopsy tables. Maddie, having already begun to process the severity of the case, slips up and tries to get herself out of the case. Meanwhile, Sam starts to feel things about Maddie he hasn’t had the chance to think about it. but when the hallucinations of Toni grow unbearable, he makes a choice he’ll regret a while.
Character(s): Sam & Dean Winchester, Maddie Rayner, mystery character
Word Count: 11,935 i’m sorry
Warning(s): explicit language, beginning of smut but dean ruins it, mentions of torture, really good description of hospitals?, gore
Masterlist
She stood in the bathroom a ways from the living area of the motel room, twisting her damp hair into a braid to keep it up and out of the way. Her eyes stared at her reflection in the mirror, trailing along her jawline and nose. She tried to come up with a reason why so many people fell head over heels in love with her; she couldn’t see why.
The bathroom door moved. Maddie jumped slightly, her hands freezing in her hair that was almost finished. She tied the remainder with a hair tie and tossed it over her shoulder.
Swathed in a blanket of warmth from her shower, the bathroom was filled with cold air when she opened the door. She regretted having the air snake up her bare skin, brushing its fingers along her freshly shaven legs.
She grabbed her bracelet from the toilet, slipping it onto her wrist. Having a weapon close was always peaceful to her for protective reasons. She decided to get dressed first before investigating the noise. She emerged in an olive green tank top tied at the stomach. Ripped jeans exposed her knees and parts of her thighs, and simple boots adorned her feet.
Her strides were almost silent on the hardwood floors. She was careful about where she placed her foot after each step. She was pleased she had adopted the habit of walking everywhere to find out what parts of the floor creaked the most. She had a mental map of where those areas were, and it was in the loudest zone did the floor creak behind her.
Before she could turn, however, a fist slammed into her jaw. She almost felt the bone crack if knuckles hadn’t struck her face immediately after. Her head whipped back rather painfully, but she wasn’t prepared to feel hard floor crush her spine. Pain exploded in her back and rattled her wings, which begged to be released. A groan left her parted lips.
She would’ve laid there for a second more, chest heaving, but she rolled out of the way when her attacker’s boot went gravitating towards her head. She managed to get in a crouch, her bracelet transforming into its staff. She twirled the weapon around to grip it in a fist.
Her attacker straightened to his full height, and he was towering at that. Hazel eyes filled with anger—and lust?—stared down at her. The man’s chest heaved and a sheet of sweat shone on his brow, which was contrasted with dark hair. He’s human, that’s good, she thought.
“Who are you?” she breathed, straightening her legs slightly to get a better vantage point. She brought her arm out and rested the staff’s point to the man’s throat.
He didn’t answer. His arm swung around the staff and tilted it up, which slammed the end of the scepter into the air and missed her face by millimeters. Her head tipped back slightly in anger. She was slightly shocked that this man would try and do something as stupid as that, but she could tell he had other plans in mind for her.
Her staff was ripped from her hand. She snarled with rage when it was snapped in half by the man’s knee. He tossed the weapon aside and grinned, eyes sparkling. “Now it’s a fair game,” he commented with a rather attractive English accent.
The cross tattoos on his hands made flashbacks remind her of the three weeks trapped with Toni Bevell, a Woman of Letters all the way from Britain. She looked up at the man, realizing that Arthur Ketch himself had managed to track her down again.
She was too busy staring at him to realize how hard of a punch he threw to her cheek. Her feet slipped right from beneath her, and her face slammed against the floor. Her nose was bleeding profusely now, with waterfalls of blood dripping down her face. She struggled to get her hands beneath her to get herself to her feet.
Something sweet was shoved against her mouth and nose, causing her to automatically close her eyes for a reason unbeknownst to her. Her mind went into overdrive when she recognized the drug doused on the rag, feet kicking and fists swinging to try and get Arthur’s hand off her face. He picked her up by the hair, adding to the pain throbbing in her body.
Maddie’s eyes opened to see the door opening. Sam had left earlier to grab some dinner for the two of them, a sort of “gift” after having eight hours’ worth of sex.
She looked at Arthur sidelong and felt him look ahead of him. His arm straightened, revealing her gun in his hand aimed right at Sam’s head.
“Mads, I’m ba—”
His words were cut off when a bullet slammed right between his eyes. The bags he was carrying dropped from his arm as his body fell to the floor.
She screamed as loud as she could, sending her heel into the bastard’s bits. He dropped her with a curse, with Maddie breathing in air as the chloroform was released from her nose. She was on the verge of passing out; the room spun, swayed, and blurred beneath her. She stared at Sam’s slumped body.
The room switched from floor to ceiling. Arthur hovered above her and planted the gun to her forehead, a brooding expression blanketing his face. “Asmodeus said you could fight, but this is what you bring to the table?”
The gun twirled around his finger, the butt of the weapon staring down at her. She looked at Arthur with swimming vision. Her head hurt and felt light as air. It was hard as hell to concentrate on one thing, especially when her mind was trying to focus on Sam regardless of her current state.
She tried saying his name when Arthur whammed the gun’s butt on her forehead. The ceiling flashed to darkness.
It took the owner of the home a moment to answer the door. Sam glanced at his brother, who was fussing with his tie and an irritable expression pulling his features. Casting a glare at him, Sam faced the door when it opened. A pretty young woman with fair hair, skin, and flecks of brown in her blue eyes smiled brightly at the two Hunters, a septum piercing catching Sam off guard. She leaned against the doorframe and looked at the badges they flashed her.
A puzzled look made her smile fade. “Let me guess. FBI?” she asked.
Sam and Dean shared a confused look. “There a problem?” Sam asked, raising his eyebrows in confusion. He glanced at his brother, who shrugged his shoulders as a response.
The woman jabbed a thumb back behind her. “There’s already an agent here. Her name’s, uh, Alice Cooper? She’s investigating my husband’s death . . .” Her voice trailed off as tears clouded her eyes. Sam’s heart broke for the woman.
He took a chance and leaned in to see who was already there. He caught the sleeve of a black sweater, but the woman obstructed most of his view. He swallowed lightly and took a glance in the driveway. A Grand Caravan was parked furthest from the Impala, but no other car was in sight. Who’s here? he thought.
Regardless of company, the woman invited the two brothers inside. Sam took note of the narrow hallway leading to the kitchen and another room behind the staircase, but his eyes stopped wandering when they were met with ashen ones.
Maddie sat on a plush sofa, clad in a tight-fitting sweater, a navy green pencil skirt and black stiletto heels. Black eyeshadow contrasted her face with a swipe of eyeliner and maroon lipstick. Her hair was swept over one eye, its thick appearance billowing with mock shortness.
She looked absolutely stunning.
“Could we have a minute to discuss things? There seems to be a mishap back at headquarters,” Dean blurted sweetly, flashing the attractive woman a wink and waiting for her to go upstairs before immediately taking his gun out and aiming it at Maddie’s head. His tone dropped to pure anger. “Why the hell are you here?”
Maddie simply chuckled and flashed a sour smile. “Nice to know Dean’s always playing bad cop. Can’t complain, really, you have the alcoholism and daddy issues to prove it,” she stated with a sassed eyebrow arch and crossed arms.
Dean gave her an expressionless stare. He looked emotionally drained, really. Sam cleared his throat and nodded his head towards the ceiling. He wasn’t sure that his brother would shoot Mads point blank in the head, but he didn’t want to take any chances.
“I’m not gonna repeat myself.” Dean adjusted his grip on his gun.
Mads stood from the sofa and put a hand on her hip. Her hair shone against the sunlight beaming through the bay window. She chuckled again, glancing at Sam with a slightly humorous expression. It faded instantly when Dean tightened his grip on his gun and took a step closer to her.
“Easy, Dean, you don’t wanna know what happens if you pull that trigger.” Her eyes rolled upward to the ceiling and narrowed back at Sam’s brother. “There’s a grieving woman upstairs. You think it’s a good idea to shoot someone in her house? Can it and kill me later.” Her voice was filled with venom and authority. Her head moved closer to him, lips curling as she added, “I’ll enjoy tearing your head off.”
Sam let out a disappointed and worrisome sigh. He meant to keep it in, but his jaw clenched when Maddie winked at him. Instead of rolling his eyes like he usually would, he looked away from her. It was best to not let her know the far-too-obvious redness creeping up his neck was going to end up with clothes being shed.
Clearing his throat, he took charge. “Alright, Mads, why don’t you take the morgue and Dean and I can handle the vic. We can meet at whatever motel you’re staying at and talk after.”
Her face paled. She licked her lips subtly, her eyes looking around the room. She looked scared out of her wits. He brushed a finger on her elbow to get her attention back on him. He simply stared at her instead of saying any words.
She finally looked back at him. “Y’know what, why-why don’t I head back to the motel, see what we’re dealing with, do some more r-research . . . sounds good.” She turned to leave, but Sam followed her. He glanced behind his shoulder to make sure Dean wasn’t on his heels, and thankfully he wasn’t. Maddie and Dean were a deadly combination.
A cloudy sky welcomed them. Maddie’s hair whipped around her shoulders as she walked, black streaks blending in with the brown that brightened up when patches of sun slipped through the clouds. He looked at her backside for a fraction of a second; he felt disgusted with himself.
He noticed how her jacket was the one piece of clothing (that he’s seen so far) without two slashes in the back for her wings.
He reached out and touched her shoulder. She immediately reacted by rolling her arm beneath his and arming herself with her staff, the tip resting directly on his throat. Fear and anger blanketed her face. He couldn’t see any of the humor that was in her eyes only minutes ago.
Sam put his hands up to give her the sense of authority. He looked at his friend, whose chest was heaving and tears streaming down her cheeks, with sorrow. Whatever hell she went through before he met her was unbeknownst to him, but he didn’t let it faze his emotions. He kept his own tears at bay by forcing himself to look at her. His jaw clenched, though.
There was a moment of silence, save for the near-silent sobs from Maddie. The two Hunters remained like that, one with their hands raised and an emotionless expression and the other armed with a fierce and deadly weapon, until she finally put the staff down and slammed it into the concrete.
Putting his hands down, he took a small step towards her. She took a step away and covered her face with her hands. His heart broke for her, similar to the way he felt when she was with Dean all those months ago. She was scared, of course, and he felt sorry for making her feel that way.
The words he wanted to speak were sitting patiently on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to say them. He feared he’d spark the boiling rage she kept under lock and key.
He merely stared at her for a moment before the staff transformed back into its bracelet form, the metal snaking up her fingers and shrinking as it got closer to its destination. He watched it finally lock into place before taking another step. Maddie didn’t move.
“Maddie,” he began calmly, only to finish his steps and wrapping his arms around her. He felt superior in this position, he found, considering her minute stature to his gargantuan size.
She shook in his arms. An overwhelming feeling of something washed over him. He didn’t know the right word to describe it, but all he knew was that he didn’t want to let her go, ever. He tightened his hold on her, burying his mouth in her hair. Coconut and sage made its way to his nose; he grew to adore that smell.
He felt her arms slowly wrap around him, too. He jumped at the contact, waiting for the hands to pale and grow veiny. He waited for the dark hair lighten to a blonde color. He was waiting for everything to fade and melt into the farmhouse in Missouri.
Nothing happened.
After moments of more silence, Sam pulled her away from him softly. His hands remained touching her, however. A warm sense of homeiness made him let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He looked down at her, his own tears clouding his vision.
Sam wanted to kiss her. He begged his hands to just grab her face and smash his lips against hers. He wanted to just hold her and tell her it was okay, that nothing would hurt her as long as he was around. He wanted to protect her, even if it was against all odds and he would end up being killed for it.
He wanted her to feel like she could be herself without having to end things with a knife to someone’s throat.
The front door opened when he leaned in. He flicked his eyes up at Dean, who had a confused look on his face. Sam pulled himself away from Maddie. A blush crossed his face as he cleared his throat; it was for the best. The last thing she needs is a distraction.
Dean opened his mouth to mutter something, but the glare Sam sent made his brother snap his lips closed. Instead, he stabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Alright, turns out Ms. Giammusso, or-or whatever the crap her name is, was sleeping with someone else, a . . . Tony Venne. Vanessa says he doesn’t live too far, I figured we would go over there.”
Maddie cleared her throat and managed to find words. “S-Sam and I were planning on going to the, uh . . . to the m-morgue,” she stammered. Her eyes were scattered everywhere but his face. He could’ve sworn he saw a blush on her face, too.
His brother looked at him funny. Sam ignored it, of course, since all Dean seemed to do was look at him with a rather brooding expression. He finally shook his head and muttered, “Need a ride?”
Sam mumbled, “Yes,” and proceeded to slump to the car. He ducked into the passenger seat before Dean could say anything about Maddie riding along. He found her sitting behind Dean, which concerned him. Her face was free of any remains of tears.
The second Dean got into the front, Maddie summoned her staff and placed the handle over his throat. A simple jerk back would certainly crush his windpipe.
Her head leaned to the side as she began speaking. “Point a gun at me again, Winchester, I’ll make sure your brother never finds your body. Is that clear?” Her voice was a horrifying snarl, with truth and venom emblazoned into each word as it crossed her lips. Sam could only stare at her with widened eyes.
He watched with a slight sigh of relief when his brother nodded and the weapon was withdrawn. Dean inhaled a view gulps of air and a glower Sam’s way. He squared up in his seat and started the car, adding with slight sarcasm, “Oh, what a wonderful life it is.”
Dean had dropped her and Sam off an hour ago. Sam went right into the lobby, checking himself in as Agent Cooper and Laurens for an autopsy report. He must’ve thought she was next to him by the confused look he gave her through the double doors when he turned.
She looked at him with a nervous swallow and a shift on her feet. She still couldn’t get over how unbelievably hot he looked in his Fed suit, however she could tell he was thinking the same thing about her as he eyed her up and down as he rushed back outside. His hands were spread out in an excessive way, in her opinion.
“What are you doing? Let’s go.”
Maddie looked around again and tried to come up with an excuse to not wanting to go in. She blamed her fast metabolism and her fake hunger, but she, inevitably, failed miserably from the bitch-face Sam flashed at her. He grabbed her hand—sending shockwaves of electricity to ricochet up and down her spine—and dragged her into the morgue.
The second she took a whiff her breath hitched in her throat. Her chest seemed to stop working completely; her lungs seemed to reject oxygen and her heart started beating faster and faster. Her hand squeezed Sam’s as hard as it could. Sam pulled his hand and let it hang by his side. Tell him, her mind spat, tell him so he won’t drag you here ever again.
Sam led her toward a back office. Dark hardwood floors made her feel like the room was spinning. She caught a few passers-by in the eye, some flashing smiles or glancing at her body. The outfit she still wore made her regret choosing this shirt.
A door slid open with a soft whir. The smells were immensely strong now, enough to make nausea rise from her throat the second the door closed. She covered her mouth and darted for the trash can by the desk. She squatted and heaved her stomach contents into the bin; Sam ignored her moans.
She heard his footsteps on the tile as he began looking for the right body. She couldn’t recall the name of the victim now; she was too busy on either keeping her head in the trash can or booking it then and there, leaving Sam here to fend for himself.
You just had to come along, didn’t you, Maddie? Her brain was already pissed off at itself. She kept puking long after her stomach felt empty and only acid came. The smell didn’t really bother her. It took her mind away from the reeking smells of the medical supplies. Her fingers were turning white by the time the door slid open and someone walked in.
“Can I help you with anything?” His voice brought back memories of dark rooms and sharp objects carving into flesh.
Her heaving froze in her throat. Her eyes opened (she was unaware they were closed) and stared at her vomit. Her back tensed, her knuckles turning more white than they already were. Her stomach leaped to her throat. She felt like puking all over again despite that she was empty on stomach content.
Tears sprang to her eyes the second the man spoke. Sam, oblivious to the voice’s owner, turned on his heel and seemed to smile at the offer. “Do you know where Kevin Giammusso’s body is?”
Don’t talk to him. Don’t talk to him, don’t talk to him. Don’t you fucking talk to him!
The man’s footsteps slid across the tile. “Giammusso? He’s in chamber . . . six. Let me help you,” the man replied with a smile in his voice as well. Maddie shuddered as the politeness of this bastard seemed to reel Sam in right away.
That’s what he does. He acts nice to hide the sadistic psychopath underneath.
A body chamber opened. The door slammed against the others, making her jump and squeeze her eyes shut. Black and white stills of the same thing happening to her flashed across her eyelids; the darkness that she always knew was taken away, replaced by bright light and coldness on her back. A brief release of that coldness as she was picked up. A return of that coldness that she hated so much but couldn’t make it stop.
A corpse was laid on the autopsy table with a thud. A violent throb in the back of her head made her almost scream. She couldn’t count how many times her skull cracked by the force that slammed her on an autopsy table much like this one.
She expected to hear metal clamps strapping down the corpse. She expected to hear a calming voice that would convince others the man doing this was a good man, a harmless scientist doing his job. Her mind waited for hands to grab her by the hair, one possibly covering her mouth so she couldn’t scream as they dragged her towards the table. Her mind waited to hear a gunshot or the plunge of a knife into Sam’s heart.
Nothing happened.
Stifling a sob, she kept her head in the trash can. She felt eyes on her back. Of course, her Fed suit didn’t contain any slashes for her wings. The kinds of questions they would’ve arisen were incomprehensible.
A hand rested on her back, followed by a calming voice. “Are you alright?”
Maddie wanted to grab a gun and shoot herself in the head if it meant she wouldn’t be in this situation right now. She squeezed her eyes tighter, a few tears slipping into the trash can. She felt herself shaking. She wanted to grab a knife and stab this bastard in the neck for a slow death.
Her throat closed when she tried to speak. Words never came from her opened mouth, nor did anything from Sam to help her get out of this. She begged him to say something, ask a question, or just simply dismiss this man from the room. Sam was a fake FBI agent. He had the fake authority to overpower people of any profession.
After sitting there, head in a trash can and a bastard’s hand on her back, she finally managed to speak. “I-I’m . . . f-f-fine.” Her voice was broken and shattered with fear. The man didn’t notice as he rubbed a sweet spot on her back—right between her wings, a place that was his favorite to touch whenever she was “a good girl”—and stood.
He left. The door slid shut as she watched the man leave. She looked at the door for the first time since they entered; she couldn’t see the coroner anymore. A sigh of relief was followed by more heaving.
Sam came over and sat on the floor with her. His hand reached out to touch her back, but she swatted him away and scooted towards the wall with the trash can in her lap.
“Mads, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. A-are you okay?”
She began rocking back and forth as she put her head inside the trash can again. Her head shook profusely. She was too shaken to say anything.
How is this bastard alive? The news headline proclaiming his death was broadcasted nationwide eighteen years ago. It was the year she was finally free. It was the year she no longer had to be paranoid of what happened behind the closed doors of the CDC.
The man that just stood in this morgue was executed by lethal injection on July 21, 2000.
Moving closer to her, Sam leaned against the glass desk behind him. A computer was one of the main things on the tabletop, aside from notebooks and files on various bodies.
Her mind immediately went toward her file released by the FBI in 2006. It detailed her criminal record, a rap sheet possibly longer than Sam and Dean’s combined. She couldn’t remember all the juicy details that would catch the coroner’s attention, but she couldn’t be too cautious. Who knows how long this bastard has been back from the dead?
Perhaps Heaven had something to do with this . . .
Of course Heaven had the nerve to bring this bastard back to life. She knew they would pull something like this eventually, but she hadn’t necessarily thought it all through. She prayed she would be dead by the time Heaven did something like this.
Sammy’s head leaned towards her. His brow was upturned the slightest in concern, those little arched wrinkles making a dash of her anxiety flicker away. He stared at her, she knew, and she finally lifted her gaze back to him. She searched his face for any sign of familiarity, even if she hadn’t necessarily disclosed why she was in this state. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and returned the trash bin to its place beneath the desk.
“We-we, uh . . . we have to go,” she announced. Her voice was barely above a whisper.
A confused look crossed Sam’s face. He looked up at her when she stood. Busying herself with her hands by running them through her hair, it was the only thing Maddie could do besides wanting to blow this place up with as many bombs as she could.
The Hunter stood shortly after she began making her way towards the door. Without a second glance at the body atop the autopsy table, she held her breath as she was stepping out of the wretched morgue office.
Sam turned and rolled the doctor’s stool closer to her so he could sit. He looked up at her; it was the only time she could feel taller than him.
His words were filled with worry. “What? Maddie, what’s wrong?”
She fought tears. She tried her damnedest to keep them at bay, but she couldn’t hold it in for much longer. A toxic swirl of emotions ran through her: anger, fear, sadness, and most of all, shock. This coroner, who was supposed to be dead and rotting in Hell for eternity, was alive and kicking. Nothing was different about him at all; he was the same monster that he was before the execution.
“Maddie, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on,” Sam said, his words soft and somewhat quiet.
She didn’t care about that. She wanted to leave this place and leaving it in shambles. She wanted to blow this whole town up if it meant that the coroner would be dead. She didn’t care if there were innocent casualties.
She looked at the door. She tore her jacket off and let her wings free themselves from her back. It was true that this outfit was the only one without slashes in the back; she kept an “emergency” shirt beneath every piece of attire she wore.
Feathers floated towards the floor. She looked down and scooped them up, cramming them into her pocket. Molting season was close.
Her head leaned down, eyes cast to the floor as she tucked in her wings. It was a brief period of freedom for them, but she knew it would be best to keep them in as long as the coroner was aware. Hell would break loose if he found out she still had them.
She couldn’t meet his pleading eyes no matter how hard she tried. She didn’t have the heart to tell him what happened to her thirty-three years ago. She didn’t even know how to begin to explain it to him. It was too complicated, too emotional, too difficult to talk about without breaking down and becoming as vulnerable as vulnerable gets.
Maddie looked at him through the open door. He, too, looked scared. It was rare when she saw him like this. He was scared for her, yes, but she wanted to scream at him about his own problems. She wanted to yell at him for worrying about her constantly when all she did was get tortured by his brother. He had the option to not give a shit about her. He had the right option to ignore her.
So why did he take a liking to her?
She shook her head and started walking towards the main entrance. The smells were making tears slip from her eyes. Each inhale from her tight chest felt like an effort too great to be considered normal. She felt Sam stalking after her at a pace similar to a predator; slow and painstakingly cautious.
“Maddie,” he began, but his mouth shut when she ripped open the glass door. She took a deep breath of clean, purified air and stalked towards the section of trees across the parking lot. Sam stormed after her, his steps quicker than her despite his stature. He called her name, but she ignored him. Nothing was more adamant than getting the fuck out of this place.
She whirled around once she was hidden by the trees. She rolled her shoulders, wings expanding and arching to their height of seventeen feet. She saw his eyes trail towards her wings, a movement that he always did whenever she had them out. She didn’t mind. It was kind of hot, for an odd reason unbeknownst to her.
She shook her head when he inhaled to talk. “Sam, I . . . I can’t be here. That man can’t be here.”
A confused look pulled at Sam’s features. Maddie could tell he was debating on loving her or leaving her. Surely he thought she was crazy. Freaking out in a morgue on a case, especially when she was heaving her Wheaties in a fucking trash can. “What are you talking about?”
She stabbed a finger at the morgue. “We can’t be here. If he founds out that I’m a Hunter, we’re fucked.”
Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. A hand lifted to his hip as he sighed in annoyance. “What the hell is wrong with you? You almost blew our cover, Maddie! I think you should go back to the motel.”
Scoffing, she set her tongue between her teeth. She glanced at him and flapped her wings, her hands reaching out and slamming him against the back of a tree trunk. If it weren’t for the flap backward that slowed her down, his spine would’ve broken easily. Her hand reached up and clenched his jaw.
“Don’t turn this on me. Don’t you dare say this is my fault. You dragged me here in the first place. I didn’t even wanna come to this fucking morgue!” She watched his face go through various expressions: pain, fear, anger . . . she saw it all. She could tell he was scared. He had the right to be scared; she scared pretty much everyone when she was mad.
Maddie let her hand fall to her side as she turned. It was hard to walk in grass when wearing heels, but she managed to make it a good distance before turning her head to look back at Sam. His chest heaved as he stared back at her, his Fed suit making her regret trying to intimidate him. She rolled her eyes and said, “I’m gonna do research . . . see if we can get a lead.”
Before she could take off, Sam called out to her. A part of her wanted to turn and run back to him, to embrace him like they did in Ms. Giammusso’s driveway. She longed for that contact again, that safety that washed over her when she breathed him in. Her entire body was hellbent on returning to him in tears. An apology lingered on her tongue, but she shoved it down.
“Be safe,” he muttered, “Dean might still have you on his mind.”
She muttered a soft thank you. She still felt Sam’s eyes on her as she flapped her wings, her body launching into the air. Cold air splashed across her face as she gained altitude. She glanced down at Sam, who was a little dot on the ground, and rolled her eyes when a blush warmed her cheeks.
She managed to land somewhat close to the motel she was staying at, flying in jet streams that shortened her trip to ten minutes. It was a cozy little building, standing at a single-story with pretty landscaping and scenery. A sign exclaiming an outdoor pool in the back had caught her attention. It’s been awhile since she been in a pool, yet alone a bikini.
Her hand fished in her pocket for her key. She looked up at her door and jammed the key into the lock, shoving open her door with a grunt. “Holy hell, why do I even bother with these damn rooms?” she muttered.
She tossed the key on the end table by the door. The couch looked tempting to lay on, but the case was all that was on her mind.
She had to disappear. She had to force herself to go off the map, out of sight until this case was over with. The coroner had to have her in his sights by now, asking whatever being that brought him back to life to end it now. To end this game of cat and mouse and finally bring what he created back to him once and for all.
A shudder ran through her.
“Cool it, Maddie. You’re . . . you’re fine. Everything’s gonna be fine,” she muttered to herself. She felt a tiny bit better, but the cloud of dread and fear still hung above her as she shed her clothes and got into the shower.
As the hot water cascaded down her body and wings, she braced a hand on the tile wall. Her heart was racing, her chest hurt from breathing so hard, and she couldn’t help but let tears slip down her face. Who could blame her? That bastard coroner, a person who wasn’t even medically licensed to be a coroner, was topside and having the time of his godforsaken life.
You have to kill him, her mind said. Her eyes snapped open when the words floated around in her head. Of course she had to kill him, it was the only way to make sure he wouldn’t come back.
It was the fear of gathering the courage to even step back into the morgue that made her legs nearly give out.
She considered finding an angel and demanding how the coroner was alive. It was a plausible plan, yes, and it would work out nicely; an angel would die and so did the bastard that she swore she’d forget. Her mind went elsewhere. She debated on going to an angel or even summoning a Hellhound.
Hellhound sounded much better. She could control if it tore the coroner to shreds, and she could also manage to see exactly what to do with him. She could knock him out with a single punch and tie him to a tree or something. She’d torture him as well, long and slow. She found her hands longing for blood to pour over the skin and dye it a deep crimson.
She smiled at the thought of the coroner bleeding out as he should have been seventeen years ago.
She turned the water off. She stood in the shower for a moment, looking at the droplets of water drip from the tip of her nose or hang in her lashes. Her knuckles turned white as she increased the pressure on her hand on the wall. A small stab of pain ignited beneath the skin, but she didn’t care.
Stepping out, she grabbed a pair of clothes from the duffle bag on the toilet. She slipped into the jeans, cursing slightly when they got stuck on her hips. It took a second to finally get them on, while the low-cut halter shirt looked rather dashing on her if she were judging. She pulled on a dark flannel as she gathered her old clothes reeking from the morgue.
The bathroom was blown with coldness when she opened the door. She tossed her Fed outfit on the bed left unkempt from the previous night’s tossing and turning. The case had kept her up all night, which ended up with an eight-hour phone conversation with Sam.
She smiled when she thought of him. Her tongue came to rest between her teeth, and when she turned, she almost screamed.
Sam shoved his hand over her mouth. He slipped behind her with ease, his head lowering to reach her ears. “It’s okay, it’s just me,” he whispered. Calmness was in his words, but she noticed a stab of pain.
Her hand pried his from her lips. Shifting her gaze from his, she turned and jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t do that,” she spat with a scoff. She ran a hand through her hair before shoving her old clothes into her duffle. Wasting the time of shoving them in dressers worn to dust was something only a fool would do.
“Sorry.”
Maddie loosed a sigh. She straightened, her wings expanding from her back as she stretched her arms out. Tiredness racked her system, but she shoved it aside. Cases come first, and this one was going to be a long one.
She felt eyes on her wings. She was used to it by now, but it still caught her off guard every now and then. She felt uneasy this time; she felt like a piece of prey being observed for dinner. She turned regardless. She could take Sam down in seconds. Of course, he had to have had his fair share of fights with women stronger than him, but she wasn’t anything he’d gone up against before. There was no woman, human or not, like her on this planet.
Taking him out would be easy. Letting go would be harder.
Instead of suffering in the silence that pursued, she sparked up the conversation. “Did you go back to the morgue or did you ask Dean to pick you up?”
A sigh left the Hunter. “I, uh, went back in to question the coroner, but he must’ve left after you stormed out. How’re you doing, by the way? You looked terrified of him.” She felt his caring stare on her.
Fuck his selfless conscious. Anger boiled within her, a dose of adrenaline that rushed into her veins. She wanted to slap his face and tell him to shut his mouth before she really gets mad. She wanted to tell him everything about this damned coroner, about this damned bastard that deserved to rot in the deepest part of the Pit for eternity.
But she couldn’t find the words. Words that she didn’t think she’d have to explain to anyone had crossed her mind before she met the Winchesters, before Heaven had gotten involved in this shit-show that was her life. She didn’t want to explain anything, really. She felt reality would strangle it out of her if she kept her mouth shut.
“I’m . . . I’m okay. I told you I’m not the biggest fan of hospitals, and I guess the coroner . . . I don’t know. Can we just leave it? I don’t like talking about it.” She avoided his eyes as she crossed the room to grab her gun from the bathroom counter.
He must’ve followed her, for when she pivoted on her foot, he was right in front of her. She ran into his chest. One hand lifted and landed on his chest. She expected it to sink into slightly pudgy skin, but holy shit was she wrong; solid muscle bound in years of hunting made her fingers grip his shirt slightly. It was too little of a movement to render a response from him.
She looked up at him with a stiff expression, her body fighting to hide the blush creeping to her face.
She prepared to push him away and storm toward the duffle bag on the couch. She prepared to leave the warmth that he radiated, the sense of protection and hominess that followed him around like a dog. She prepared to do something she never thought she’d do with him.
She wasn’t prepared for his hands to grab her face and his lips to mold onto hers.
Her eyes widened a bit. The gun fell to the floor with a clatter. Electricity coursed through her body, sparks of pleasure lighting up in certain parts of her body. Her breath hitched in her throat, heart thundering as Sam’s thumbs stroked her skin. His fingertips were rugged with callouses, but she didn’t care. The heat that surrounded her and the softness his lips made her never want to separate from this moment. It was bliss.
All things pointed to death, however. Surely this would get them killed. If a demon caught wind of this—hell, if Dean found out about this—they would certainly use it against both Hunter and Rayner. She knew things like this gets people killed. She’d witnessed the very thing and sworn she’d never . . . never fall in love again.
She was wrong.
Her skin ached for more contact. She deepened the kiss. Lifting onto her toes, she got closer to the Hunter. His hands slid from her face to her hips, those strong and calloused fingers taking hold of her ass and lifting her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he walked toward the bed, turning and shoving her off him. Her body bounced on the mattress.
She couldn’t stop her eyes from wandering behind him. Her mind screamed at her to stop, to stop this thing that was gaining momentum and surely spinning out of control if he continued. Her mind fought to control the rising hunger in her core that begged for more of Sam Winchester; more of the man that saved her from the wrath of his brother.
What are you doing? her mind screamed as Sam grabbed her flannel and tore it off, tossing it to the floor across the bed. Maddie lifted herself up and grabbed his jacket, pulling him down on top of her and kissing him again. His hands caught himself, arms braced on either side of her. He looked down at her with a soft smile.
His expression soon darkened, eyes cast in a predatory light. She smirked, hands wrapping around his neck as he buried his face in her neck. His teeth grabbed part of her skin and bit down, hard, sucking and gnawing until pain ignited beneath. She threw her head back as her core thrived at the feeling of contact.
Her mind went to the case for a fraction of a second. She hesitated arching her hips to get closer to Sam’s girth, and she paused as her hands reached down to take his pants off. The voice in her head still screamed at her to stop whatever was happening. It warned her of the consequences if someone found out about this, but it was the kiss that Sam pressed to her lips that made her dismiss all the warning bells.
Hands fumbling with his belt, she tossed the accessory to the floor. His pants soon followed, a move she made that was somewhat surprising to Sam’s part; the look on his face was priceless.
Seconds passed and both of them were down to their underwear. Her eyes wandered the dips and curves of Sam’s chest, the solid abs and the impressive shoulders and biceps curved to perfection. She felt herself become more than pleased with the sight of Sam without a shirt on, and she prayed nothing would interrupt this beautiful moment.
She felt Sam’s eyes tracing her body. He seemed to take note of the curves of ink swirling and twirling from her neck and all the way to her ankles, the navel piercing drawing him to her stomach. He simply stared for a moment, seemingly awestruck that he had managed to capture this temple of a body in his hands.
“Don’t just stare, Sam,” she purred, licking her lips when she lifted her hands and crossed them above her as if they were bound. She rocked her hips when Sam attacked her almost bare body, teeth and tongue scraping over skin that was sending waterfalls of wetness to surge from her.
She cursed a few times, apparently to Sam’s pleasure, by how he snarled, “Say that again, baby.” She did as she was told. The words dripped from her lips like poison, drawing the Winchester in like a moth to a lamp. Her head tilted back when he crashed his lips to hers again, a monstrous move made by only the finest men she’s slept with. It was unlike any one-night stand she’d ever had . . . it made her regret leaving the poor souls to wonder what happened in the awestruck hours before.
She took her hands from above her to wrap around Sam’s face. She pulled him closer to her, her gaze staring deeply into his darkened eyes filled with lust. He didn’t seem to be affected by the sudden pause in this activity, no, for he paused his groping and stared down at her with another soft smile.
A breath left her lips. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered. Sam kissed her cheek as he slipped his hand beneath her bra. She bucked beneath him when his hand squeezed one of her breasts. She felt another volley of pleasure explode in her core.
Sam mimicked her smirk and sat up, taking her hand and lifting her up to a sitting position on the bed. Maddie rolled her shoulders, wings expanding from her back, and waited for Sam to position himself behind her. She lifted her wings so he could squeeze flush against her back. He seemed drawn to her wings, but that didn’t stop him from pressing his lips to her jawline.
His teeth nipped at the skin. He sucked and bit to her desirable pleasure, causing her head to roll back and rest on his shoulder. Sam’s hands wrapped around her frame, fingers clawing at skin and fabric until he managed to unhook her bra. It was a lacy one, both fit for hunting and recreational activities. And boy, was this recreational.
He managed to flip her over on her stomach and pin her arms to the bedsheets. She was stricken with shock for a second, but the snarl Sam spat into her ear was enough to throw her over the edge: “Gonna eat you out, just you wait.”
She didn’t really understand what he meant in the slightest. Yes, she understood that he was, indeed, going to fuck her until she couldn’t walk. She was just anticipating on the method as to how he’d fuck her until she couldn’t walk. Various positions flashed across her mind, with a few making her smile and writhe beneath Sam.
A moan left her lips. Her back arched inward, wings shuddering in the air. She felt feathers quiver in their positions, some becoming bigger than they appeared in a rather poofing sort of way.
She felt another moan leaving her lips when Sam flipped her over and clamped a hand over her mouth.
One hand still held hers above her head, sending a slight shock of fear to rush through her. She tried speaking, however the Hunter took his hands from her wrists and pressed a finger to his lips, a universal signal to be quiet.
“Sam?” The motel door closed.
“Dean,” he breathed. She yelled into his hand in protest. He jumped slightly at the sound and took his hand away. “Sorry.”
Maddie sat up, grabbing the nearest thing she could to cover herself up. A blush warmed her cheeks, eyes glued to Sam’s narrow waist as he turned to face his brother. She cocked her head a bit, perplexed as to how such a gentle and good man could be so . . . dominant.
The eldest Hunter jabbed a finger to the door. “Outside. Now.” The door opened and slammed shut, causing Sam and Maddie to jump in their skin.
Dean didn’t seem pleased at all. Of course, he just walked in on his brother almost having sex with none other than Maddie Rayner, one of the most notorious Hunters in the entire world. Sure, he wasn’t happy. And, yes, getting close to people in this life was a one-way ticket to Hell (both physically and metaphorically).
Sam grabbed his shirt and pulled it on. To her dismay, those rolling muscles beneath golden skin and arm veins that she fell for disappeared. She was saddened for a moment, but she perked up when Sam turned and said, “Stay in here . . . get dressed. I, uh, want you outta here before we’re done. There’s a window in the bathroom.”
Her heart dropped. She wanted to drop everything and run back into his arms. She wanted to forget the case, forget the coroner, forget the entire world was going ape-shit crazy and just kiss him again. Those moments they shared since the beginning had to be building up to something, something beautiful and toxic and scary. She hated to admit the fear that clawed at her soul was almost numbing. She was scared of losing him, of losing the Hunter that made an exception to monsters.
But it was for the best. She understood. Instead, she turned and trudged to the pile of clothes. She tossed him his jeans as she plucked her flannel from the floor with a sigh. She felt the floor move slightly with Sam’s steps, and before she could turn to leave, she felt his lips on hers again.
She protested softly. She didn’t break the kiss to slap him. She didn’t break the kiss at all. Who knows when the last time this could happen without consequences?
Maddie watched him step back. She watched the way he buttoned his jeans and stalk to the door in socks. Her heart broke for him, of course. It shouldn’t happen. Things like this just don’t happen to her; she doesn’t sleep with someone she’s grown to know, grown to like, grown to love.
A shudder ran through her at that word. Love. It was a gross and disgusting word. A vile, troublesome and agonizing word that plagued everybody in the world. She felt like throwing up. She felt like reaching down her throat and forcing herself to puke. It was better to not love anyone than be loveless.
She loved the art of torture. That was the way she was raised: to like that word. Loving the art of torture. Loving the sensation of blood running down flesh that was gnarled and disfigured beyond recognition.
She loved the way angels struggled against their bonds. She loved the way they screamed at her to stop, or the way they moaned in pain.
She loved the way moans left lips . . . she loved the way grunts were followed by struggling . . . the kind of struggling that sent pleasure rocketing to her core . . . the way hands ran up and down her body, tracing every curve with a sharp bite at her neck or back . . .
STOP. IT. You’re a Rayner, dammit! Act like one.
She shook her head, stooping down to grab her own jeans. She shucked them on effortlessly, wrapping herself in a blanket of warmth from her wings afterwards. She heard the boys arguing behind the door. It was to the point of a screaming match did she wander over and lean against the wall to listen.
“You need to stop whatever the fuck is going on between you two,” Dean spat.
“Dean, there’s . . . there’s nothing going on between us.”
“Really? Then what the hell did I just walk in on? Sam, you know this can’t happen. You, of all people, should know that.” Dean’s voice lowered slightly, possibly in remorse. Given Sam’s track record with women, Maddie could see why the man would say that.
“I-I know.”
“Oh, you know? Do you know what’s going to happen if Heaven finds out? What if Hell found out? How about every freakin’ monster that exists, what if they find out that you’ve just shtupped a freakin’ Rayner! Sooner or later, someone is going to find out about this and use her against you . . . I’ve seen you break before, Sammy, and it ain’t pretty. End it. Now, or I will.”
A tear slipped from her eye. She pushed herself from the wall and began walking back to the bed. She was interrupted by a slam on the wall from the outside.
“She can take care of herself, Dean. Has been her whole life.” Sam’s words were thick with poison.
Dean’s reply was silence. She listened for more words to be exchanged, however none were spoken. She jumped when the door opened, with Sam storming inside with an irritated expression on his face. He slammed the door shut as she wiped her tears.
“You okay?” she asked.
“You need to go, Mads,” he muttered behind his shoulder. He grabbed their clothes and separated them, tossing her undershirt and socks to one side of the bed and his things to the other. Maddie inhaled to protest, but he straightened and turned to face her. “I don’t want you here. Dean’s ticked off, as usual, and I don’t want you to get caught in the crossfire.”
She scoffed and crossed her arms. “As you said, Sam, I can take care of myself. Have been my whole life.” She lowered her voice to emulate his when quoted him. “I don’t understand why you can’t just—”
His eyes squinted a fraction as he yelled, “You can’t take care of yourself with everybody hunting you down, Maddie!” He threw his shirt into a pile by the door. She stared at him with tears in her eyes. He sighed and seemed to calm down by his softer and quieter tone. “Heaven and Hell are getting anxious. And you killing angels in your wake isn’t going to help.”
Her head turned slightly in disbelief. “How do you—”
“I’ve watched your trail, Maddie. You may be good at killing but you’re not that great at covering things up. Bury bodies, next time. Vertically. Satellites look for bodies buried horizontally, and they’ll probably notify authorities if one turns up.”
Her face softened. She wanted to drop everything and comfort him. He was stressed and frustrated and downright tired of everything, the bags beneath his eyes and exhaustion that contoured his cheeks were emblazoned on his face.
She watched him grab his boots and put them on. She stood there, helpless, staring at the man she was falling in love with. It made her sick to her stomach when she thought about that damned word. Her adoptive father, Dante, had beaten that sense out of her: nobody would love her, nobody would ever show her affection as long as she remained in this profession.
Maddie saw him go towards the door. She glanced at the clenched fists at his sides. She took a step toward him. She wanted to come with him. It was a horrible decision, yes, but she didn’t care.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“I need a drink.”
She glanced at the fridge filled with beer.
It wasn’t until midnight did he finally find the place he was looking for. The gravel road and the fields surrounding it were almost therapeutic to the anguish that jolted his system. He slammed his car door shut, stalking toward the slight slope that introduced the first part of the fields.
His heart was dark with anger towards his brother, while his skin still tingled in places Maddie touched. He still ached for her embrace, the feel of feathers brushing against his back or chest.
He crouched in the grass. A cold breeze ripped through the air, sending his hair to float back off his shoulders just the slightest. He didn’t mind the sudden change. He felt like he was dying of a heat stroke anyway. He looked down at his waist, drawing Ruby’s knife and gripping it tightly in his hand.
The woman standing in the middle of the road was rather pretty. Black hair, crystal blue eyes, and a splash of freckles made up her vessel’s face, with a slim figure and a gorgeous black dress making her stand out in the night.
Eyes trailing to the human standing in front of the crossroads demon, a frail-looking man stood. His balding head caught the moonlight like a traffic sign. Dressed in a cardigan sweater was over a tan dress shirt, accompanied by matching business pants and dress shoes, he seemed rather business professional. The man resembled a teacher of some sort or even a professor at the local college.
His mind reminisced about his collegiate life. There were times during cases when he would yearn for the late night studying, or the frat parties his friends were invited to. He’d see college students out drinking one night and smile softly to himself; he wished those days were good memories and not events leading up to the love of his life’s death.
He felt the tug at his heart long before he noticed it hurt his chest. He winced faintly, features pulling back when he ran a hand along the blade’s wooden handle. He debated if he should do this again. It’s been months since he’d begun this, but the gnawing sights of the woman he despised and feared were growing too vivid. He hardly slept the night before, so why waste it trying to sleep when he could be doing more important things?
“This is new,” a British accent commented.
Sam jumped in his skin and fell to his side. He looked to his left, and the bitch herself squatted next to him. Her hair was down this time, a slight difference than the previous versions of her. A beige jacket was unzipped over a white dress shirt. Pants matching the jacket stretched down Toni’s legs, ending in black heels donning her feet.
He gazed back at the transaction in front of him. The demon was circling the man, lips moving. He was too far away to hear what she was saying, but he could tell the man was pleased with her words. The demon, stepping closer to rest her hands on the man’s chest, glanced behind him and towards the Hunter.
Her eyes were submerged in a pool of maroon. He narrowed his eyes as he stood, gripping Ruby’s knife tighter than he usually held it. He stormed up the little hill and onto the gravel road, steps long and dominating. He heard Toni’s footsteps behind him to his displeasure, but the thing he was planning on doing was going to relieve him of her presence . . . hopefully.
The demon crossed her vessel’s arms with a slight chuckle, eyeing the knife. Her expression flickered slightly but otherwise remained the same.
“Sir, you need to go,” he said to the man, pointing behind him. The man looked confused at his order, but to Sam’s dismay, he began protesting.
“She can make my dreams come true!”
“And you’d be this big-shot professor at an Ivy League school for ten years, then, what, check out and spend the rest of your days in the Basement? Go back to snorting Buds with the high schoolers.”
The man looked at the demon, who looked at him over her shoulder with an arch of her brow.
She smiled and flashed him her eyes. “Weed isn’t that bad,” she purred with a wink.
Sam caught the fear in the man’s eyes, for he turned and sprinted toward a Nissan parked down the road. The Hunter watched him go, and waited until the car was started before taking a step toward the demon.
A chuckle left her. “Nice job, Winchester, you just scared off a client,” she snapped. She uncrossed her arms and made her way towards the center of the crossroads. “Where’s that whore Rayner of yours, anyway?”
Anger spread through his veins. His fists clenched as he took a few more steps toward the demon. He was right in front of her now, and he found himself shoving the knife against her throat. His mouth twitched upward in anguish. He could end this demon right now. He could shove this knife so far down her throat she’d choke on it as she died. He’d relish in her suffering, of course. Every demon deserved to die no matter their business on Earth.
A cleared throat came from behind him. He didn’t need to look back to know it was Toni trying to pry his attention from the task at hand. He ignored her, but she spoke anyway. “Have reason, Sam. A killer doesn’t kill without a motive.”
“A killer doesn’t kill without a victim, either,” he muttered beneath his breath.
“Who the hell are you—”
The demon’s words were cut off when he slit her throat. Blood spilled from the clean slice, flowing down her chest and staining her dress a darker black. He let the body fall as the demon choked on its own blood. A hand flew to pry his from the knife, but it was to no avail.
He felt that tug again. It started months ago when he had first met Maddie and his hallucinations were at their worst. Toni had killed Maddie in a dream, slicing her head off and plopping it in his lap as he was tied to that same chair in the farmhouse. The second he woke up he felt that tug. It was deep within, and it was a tug that then transformed into a hunger. He gorged on the Bunker’s food to try to satisfy the tug, but no matter how much he ate, nothing would make it go away.
It was when he confronted a demon not a month ago when that hunger strengthened to a craving.
Sam fell to his knees. He stared at the blood gushing from the demon’s throat. Toni began protesting, telling him that none of this was real. That his drinking days were over with. She screamed at him to stop whatever he was going to do, but her screaming only made him lean down and press his lips to the cut.
His tongue flicked out and grabbed as much blood as it could. He felt it filling his mouth, expanding his cheeks as he sucked the substance from the demon. He swallowed and went for another drink when the demon managed to inhale hard enough to shove her hands beneath him and shove him off.
He almost fell on his back. He caught himself as the demon got to her vessel’s feet, a fist clenched and lips drawn back in a snarl.
“You’re insane!” she screeched, one hand lifting and holding the cut in her neck closed. Blood dripped between her fingers.
A smirk lifted a corner of his mouth. He already felt the hunger fade. His exhaustion from months of sleeplessness also went with it, and he felt a new rejuvenated feeling course through him. He felt more alive than the last time he had demon blood in his system. Perhaps it was the knowledge he’d gained from the years it's been, but he wasn’t sure.
His smirk grew as he took steps toward the demon. Fear was glued to her vessel’s face as she began walking backward. “Insane? No.” He slowly extended his hand outward until he had a palm facing the demon. “Powerful is more like it.”
The demon’s eyes widened before plumes of smoke rose to her throat. Some of it seeped out of the slice in the bloodied skin, while the majority of it poured from her mouth. Choking and wheezing came from the demon next, followed by a sizzling noise as Sam slowly closed his hand into a fist.
Skin began lighting up beneath the vessel. He saw a flame ignite beneath the demon’s feet, with more of its soul pouring out its mouth. He closed his eyes then, digging deep inside himself to exorcise this demon.
He debated if he should exorcise or kill her. An incantation lay waiting on the tip of his tongue on instinct, but he swallowed it. The demon choked one more time before letting out a single scream. An explosion of fire shrouded the demon’s vessel. The heat warmed him up quite a bit despite the utility jacket he donned, but nothing prepared him for the light to fade to reveal a pile of ashes on the gravel.
He let his arm fall to his side. He glanced down at his hand, fingers curling in and out of a fist. His chest gave a single heave, and it was then that he realized his heart was racing in his chest. It’s been so long since he’s used his powers, it felt like he was just learning how to control them again.
Alas, his experience from Ruby came back to him like a slap in the face. He understood now that he had fed again, he’d have to keep his hunger satisfied for however long he wanted to keep Toni at bay. Obviously, he’d use his powers as a side job . . . Hell was still looking for Jack, so why not learn new things while he was at it?
A small chuckle made him smirk. He turned to make his way back to the car he rented but stopped in his tracks.
Toni stood, arms crossed, with a death glare. “All that effort,” she began, “for what? A trophy? No wonder that Ruby demon liked you. You’ve got all the layers of freak.” He went to charge at her, but she kept speaking. “Your addiction was bad, back then, but now? Killing demons again and again and again . . . to prove your importance in this case? In this disaster of a mission against all odds. . . if anythi—”
His hand lashed out and grabbed her by the throat. He was shocked to see her grab his hand and grip his sleeve, mangled protests leaving her lips. Sam lifted the bitch off her feet. He would give nothing more than to snap her neck, but he knew that wouldn’t make her go away for good. But the blood in his system would hopefully make her disappear for a while.
Eyes squinting and a devilish smirk pulling at his lips, he stated, “Like I said. You’re just an accent in a pantsuit.”
He dropped her back on her feet. Her hand dropped from his sleeve and went to her throat, coughing filling the chilled air. She looked up at him and inhaled to scream at him, but she disappeared with a flicker.
He stood in the middle of the crossroads, staring at empty space once occupied by the woman he feared. He felt ashamed, embarrassed, and angry at himself. He let a woman—a human woman, for that matter—get in his head and control him, manipulate his decisions until he was too in over his head to crawl out. Years ago, with Ruby, he swore he’d stick by Dean’s side no matter what. No one would get between him and his brother . . . that’s all that mattered in this trainwreck of a journey since May 2, 2005.
Tell that to Maddie, he thought. He sighed. He looked around him, waiting for the moment a screaming Toni Bevell would return to belittle and mock him for his futile efforts to make her stop. He waited for that moment he’d regret most: everything to fade behind the pages of the scripture he’s written to keep his mind off his nightmares and memories of torment.
Nothing happened. He felt a weight lift from his shoulders, finally. Sam felt his chest rise and fall heavily, a habit of his whenever he did something tedious. He glanced at his clenching fist again, pleased with the affect the blood had. Before he was working on his skills, he felt inexperienced.
Now? He felt more powerful than ever.
Sam turned back to the car he rented. It was parked down the road a ways; he mentally damned himself for parking so far away, but also thanking himself. He could use the time walking to prepare a plan on how to get himself back with Maddie.
It broke his heart to know he was pissed at her . . . but he couldn’t control his emotions back there. It felt like millions of tiny butterflies were fluttering in his stomach when he kissed her in that motel room. Millions of alarms went off, as well. He could be killed for falling in love with her. She could be killed for letting it happen.
He felt a stab of pain in his heart. He couldn’t imagine Maddie dying. She’d go down fighting tooth and nail to get the last say. She’d go down bloody with everything she had in her, no matter how battered she’d be.
“Dammit, stop it. Don’t . . . think about that shit. It hasn’t happened, it isn’t going to happen,” he said to himself. He was still a few feet from his car.
His mind wandered from Maddie to the case. He was still shaken up—despite his high on demon blood—about how freaked she looked when the coroner came into the morgue. The look of absolute horror on her face had torn his heart in two. He wanted nothing more than to crush the coroner’s face in his hands, but he knew Maddie wouldn’t take that lightly. He knew she wanted to be the one who would end the man.
He was at his car. He took the keys from his pocket, sticking them inside the handle and unlocking the door. He slid himself into the car, running his hands down his jeans. His breath still reeked of demon blood, and it took all he could to not force himself out of the car and feed again. It was only a matter of hours before he would begin to detox . . . he knew it would be beyond painful, but it was better than seeing Toni 24/7.
Sam slid the keys into the ignition. He glanced in the rearview mirror as a habit and froze when he saw someone sitting in the back seat. The coroner sat with a wicked smile
“Agent Laurens,” he greeted. Sam felt the barrel of a gun rest on the side of his head.
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thedogsled · 6 years
Text
QOTD - reference
Pre-season 13
The best journeys answer questions that in the beginning you didn’t even think to ask – Jeff Johnson
Forget what we became, what matters is what we’ve become, and our potentials to overcome - Aniekee Tochukwu Ezekiel
Destiny is no matter of chance. It is a matter of choice. It is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved – WJ Bryan
New beginnings are often disguised as painful endings – Lao Tzu
To avoid criticism do nothing, say nothing, be nothing – Elbert Hubbard
Anger: an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured – Mark Twain
Education is the kindling of a flame not the filling of a vessel - Socrates
Trust yourself. Think for yourself. Act for yourself. Speak for yourself. Be yourself. Imitation is suicide – Marva Collins
13.01 - Lost & Found
The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone – Harriet Beacher Stowe
Do not fear death so much, but rather the inadequate life – Bertolt Brechy
Democracy is a device that insures we shall be governed no better than we deserve – George Bernard Shaw
Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end – Seneca
We must travel in the direction of our fear – John Berryman
Neither should a ship rely on one small anchor, nor should life rest on a single hope – Epictetus
A traveler is really not someone who crosses ground so much as someone who is always hungry for the next challenge and adventure – Pico Iyer
13.02 - The Rising Son
Cease endlessly striving for what you want to do and learn to love what must be done – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
The most authentic endings are the ones which are already revolving towards another beginning – Sam Shepard
If you want to shine like a sun, first burn like a sun – APJ Abdul Kalan
History is a vast early warning system – Norman Cousins
I don’t like to commit myself about heaven and hell. You see, I have friends in both places – Mark Twain
To succeed in life you need three things: a wishbone, a backbone and a funny bone – Reba McEntire
13.03 - Patience
Age does not protect you from love. But love, to some extent, protects you from age – Jeanne Moreau
Don’t be pushed by your problems. Be led by your dreams – Ralph Waldo Emerson
It isn’t the mountains ahead to climb that wears you out, it’s the pebble in your shoe – Mohammed Ali
Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste death but once – William Shakespeare
Indifference and neglect often do more damage than outright dislike – JK Rowling
Too many people know the price of everything and the value of nothing – Oscar Wilde
Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming “Wow! What a ride!” – Hunter S Thompson
13.04 - The Big Empty
It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious – Oscar Wilde
The world is wide, and I will not waste my life in friction when it could be turned to momentum – Frances Willard
Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing monkey bars. You have to let go at some point in order to move forward – CS Lewis
Nations, like stars, are entitled to eclipse. All is well, provided the light returns and the eclipse does not become endless night. Dawn and resurrection are synonymous. The reappearance of the light is the same as the survival of the soul – Victor Hugo
One can never creep when one feels an impulse to soar – Hellen Keller
In every day, there are 1,440 minutes. That means we have 1,440 daily opportunities to have a positive impact – Les Brown
13.05 - Advanced Thanatology
Hardships often prepare ordinary people for an extraordinary destiny – Christopher Markus
Do not worry if you have built your castles in the air. They are where they should be. Now put the foundations under them – Henry David Thoreau
Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living. It’s a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope – Dr. Seuss
There are some things you learn best in calm, and some in storm – Willa Cather
The same boiling water that softens the potato hardens the egg. It’s about what you’re made of, not the circumstances – Unknown
The hardest thing in life is to learn which bridge to cross and which to burn – David Russel
When a flower doesn’t bloom, you fix the environment in which it grows, not the flower – Alexander Den Heijer
Bravery never goes out of fashion – William Makepeace Thackray
13.06 - Tombstone
Normal is an illusion. What is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly – Morticia Addams
A ship is safe in harbour, but that’s not what ships are for – William G T Shedd
The roads diverged in a wood, and I – I took the one less travelled by, and that made all the difference – Robert Frost
Courage is being scared to death and saddling up anyway – John Wayne
Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future – Oscar Wilde
Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that – Martin Luther King
13.07 - War of the Worlds
Remember that just because you hit rock bottom doesn’t mean you have to stay there – Robert Downey Jr
When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot in it and hang on – Franklin D Roosevelt
Never love anybody who treats you like you’re ordinary – Oscar Wilde
The only thing worse than being blind is having sight but no vision – Helen Keller
To thrive in life you need three bones – A wishbone, a backbone and a funny bone – Reba McEntire
We build too many walls and not enough bridges – Isaac Newton
Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds – Albery Einstein
13.08
Imagination is the only weapon in the war against reality – Lewis Carroll
Practice like you’ve never won. Perform like you’ve never lost.
We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us – Charles Bukowski
Life has a way of testing a person’s will, either by having nothing happen at all or by having everything happen at once – Paulo Coelho
13.09/13.10 - The Bad Place/Wayward Sisters
Joy is the holy fire that keeps our purpose warm and our intelligence aglow – Helen Keller
Beware of monotony; it’s the mother of all deadly sins – Edith Wharton
You can waste your lives drawing lines. Or you can live your life crossing them – Shanda Rhimes
I’ve learned that you shouldn’t go through life with a catcher’s mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw something back – Maya Angelou
Heroes need monsters to establish their heroic credentials . You need something scary to overcome – Maragaret Atwood
I would rather wait with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light – Helen Keller
The further we’ve gotten from the magic and mystery of our past, the more we’ve come to need Halloween – Pata Guran
I desire the things which will destroy me in the end – Sylvia Plath
I think you travel to search and you come back home to find yourself – Chimomanda Ngazi Cidichie
Maybe who we are isn’t so much about what we do, but rather what we’re capable of when we least expect it – Jodi Picoult
We don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are – Anaois Nin
Sometimes being a friend means mastering the art of timing. There is a time for silence. A time to let go and allow people to hurl themselves into their own destiny. And a time to pick up the pieces when it’s all over – Octavia Butler
If your dream is only about you, it’s too small – Ava DuVerney
The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don’t have any – Alice Walker 
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imgilmoregirl · 6 years
Text
A Thing Between Light And Darkness (Chapter 13)
AO3 Link
Alice laid down on Gideon's bed, shedding some tears for a long while. He sat by his desk, tapping his fingers in the arms of his chair, watching her crying and trying to think about the right thing to say right now. This last vision they had, haven't been like the previous ones, because even thought, Alice was clearly attached to her uncle, they hadn't discovered anything about him that could change the way she saw him, but today she saw something that changed everything she thought she knew about her own life. For years, Alice believed her mother had died on that fire, unable to escape the flames surrounding the house, but now she knew Eloise had been the one to start that fire.
After a while, her sobs turned into small sniffles and Alice wiped her eyes after starting to take off her black nail polish, absentmindedly her gaze lost beyond the blue walls of the bedroom. Gideon sighed aloud, trying to draw her attention to him, but Alice was too lost into her own world to even notice his presence, even though he had been the one who brought her there.
"So,” he started, a bit unsure, “are you feeling better?"
Slowly, Alice lifted her head. Her eyes were reddish and swollen, her right cheek flushed by the time she had spent laying on that side and her puffed to the same direction; Gideon thought she looked quite a mess, but her appearance could barely start to show the real catastrophe that should be in her mind by now.
"You mean, to know that my mother murdered my father in cold blood and hoped to have killed me in that fire too?" Alice inquired, sarcastically. "I think not."
"It sucks," he agreed. "But I'm here if you feel like talking."
The girl shooked her head, sitting up on the bed and sliding her socked feet back into her black boots. She snorted some kind of humourlessly laugh as she laced up her shoes.
"No, thank you," Alice mumbled, closing her eyes as she adjusted her sitting position, before opening them again to look straight at him. "I just... I wanted to understand why."
"You saw why. She thought it could free her from the darkness."
As stupid and selfish as Eloise’s decision had been, Gideon thought he could understand why she did it anyway, even if she knew it all was just madness. She was lost, desperate and afraid of herself, of who the Darkness was making her become, so when Malcolm offered her an alternative, she held onto it like there was no tomorrow. Gideon comprehended her despair, because that was what he was felling most of the time, just to think about his own future.
Of course, no of this excused killing people, mainly family members, however he couldn’t just pretend the reasons didn’t exist at all. Alice jumped of the bed, starting to walk back and forward around the room.
"Yeah, but it doesn't make sense," she reflected. "How does someone get rid of the darkness with a dark act?"
"You have a point," he assented.
Pulling up the hood of her oversized coat, Alice let herself fall on the bed again, as if she wished she could just disappear from the world in that moment. Gideon saw that her eyes were shining with unshed tears again and he really wished he could do something for her, but he was feeling dizzy with all of this too and there were things bothering him.
"I need to say something," Gideon prompted. "I've been dreaming with someone, a woman I didn't recognise, until today... She is Eloise Gold."
Alice narrowed her eyebrows.
"That doesn't make any sense."
"I know and I have never even seen her before, so I don't know how or why I have been dreaming with her, but I did,” the boy continued, pretty aware that it probably looked like he was just babbling nonsense. “And there is an important detail about that."
"What?"
"I die in the end of the dream," Gideon concluded, darkly. "Every single time."
Shifting in place, like just the thought of it gave her chills, Alice moved her shoulders repeatedly. Gideon had never been one to take dreams as signs of anything, but this one, was so vivid and insistent that he was starting to think it might be a small glimpse of the future. After all, he saw Eloise in these dreams even before he first saw her in the visions.
There was a knock on the door, and both heads turned to its direction as it was carefully open by Rumford Gold, that peeked a look inside before stepping in a little too clearly uncomfortable.
"Alice," he called, "time to go home."
"Right,” the blonde nodded, standing on her feet and walking to the door, “bye Gideon."
"See you at school?"
"Sure," she smiled, although it was a very fake and forced smile.
Rumford stood there, waiting until she left to look back at his son, who was sat in swivel chair with a distressed expression stamped in his face. They weren’t on good terms and the only conversations they had, had been conducted by Belle or Alice, but now they were alone he had no idea how to start talking.
"Can - " Rum cleaned his throat. "Can I have a word with you son?"
"As long as it is just one..." Gideon chuckled without any humour, but then he sighed deeply, glancing briefly at his father before adding: "I know, bad joke. Sorry."
Gold breathed in. It was hard to talk, he realised, because they didn’t know each other and the tragedy of this, was they were a father without a son and a son without a father for so long, they had no idea how to put themselves into their roles. Rum had seen a big number of pictures of Gideon growing up that Belle showed him and he had some remembrances of the times Pongo followed his love around and she had the boy in his arms as a baby, she followed him as a toddler or held his hand while they walked to his first day at school.
Those were images that had always made him smile, but in neither of those occasions Rumford knew this boy was his own son. It hurt him to know he had lost the chance of being a parent to his only child and now all that was left to them was this: resentment.
"I know you must feel confused - " Gold tried to continue, but Gideon shook his head and lifted a hand, warning him to stop whatever he was going to say after that.
Obviously, the boy wasn’t willing to listen.
"No, actually everything is perfectly clear for me now,” Gideon affirmed. “We have a pretty screwed-up family. End of story."
"Oh, I so wish this was the end," Rumford whispered to himself, before adding in a louder tone: "There are things, you need to understand about who you are and what will become of you after your twentieth birthday when your powers finally settle down."
Gideon arched an eyebrow. This seemed the kind of scene that would come up in one of those family movies nobody really watched for fun, but because there was nothing else more interesting in the TV. Gaston had been the worst father in the world, they barely talked most of time, so Rumford’s efforts to have a proper conversation with him were really surprising for Gideon, however they were also unwelcomed just now, when he was so confused after being attacked by his second mad aunt within two days.
"Is this some kind of weird magical teenager talk you just feel the need to have with me?" Gideon inquired. "Listen, you don't have to, Gold. I'm sixteen, totally capable of reading a book and you are standing here making both of us uncomfortable for nothing. You never were my father, you don't need to try acting like it now."
His words hurt. Gideon could see it clearly in Rumford's expression, how his eyes widened slightly, before becoming undoubtly sad and teary. And this was another surprise for him, because he had never seen Gaston look weak, not even when he was drunk, but right now watching Gold showing his emotions without any restrains he wondered if he would be a different person, had he been raised by that man.
"If I could, I would go back in time and be the man I should have been from the start, I wouldn't let fear take me and I would have never locked myself inside the Manor so long," Gold said in a broken voice. "But I can't, Gideon and unfortunately I never knew you were my son."
"Yeah," he mumbled.
The silence was almost dense between, both were able to notice a million different thoughts were going through the other’s mind, but none of them could speak for more than just a couple of seconds. Rumford knew exactly how to proceed, but he was afraid that doing it would push Gideon even more far away from him than he already was. However, remaining quiet wasn’t working too.
"The thing is,” Gold slowly said, taking Gideon off of his musings, “you're a mystery for now and there is people who would pay to watch and see what you will become."
"Freaks,” the boy remarked. “All of them."
"Aye, that's why I need you to stay strong and not for me, but for your mother and all the people who love you. Eloise wronged herself when she answered my father's call to the darkness and I don't want the same to happen to you."
Gideon stood up, walking past Rumford to his shelves, taking a random book from there before letting himself fall on the bed.
"Obviously it will not. Eloise and I are not the same and I can decide for myself."
"This blind fate you have... That's what drawled me to your mother," Rumford nodded, ready to leave. "You may not be human, but you don't fail to be as spectacular and unique as her."
He passed through the door, murmuring a simple good night and left the house.
When Gideon entered the school the next day, he was feeling like he needed a couple more hours of sleep. He was preoccupied with everything that was happening and still could happen around his family, as he knew his mother was too. Earlier, when he went downstairs to get breakfast, he found Isabelle sleeping on the couch with a book opened over her stomach and a pencil slipped to the floor, the proof the was doing everything on her reach to help Gold get rid of his infamous father and half-sister.
The boy didn’t wake her; he knew Ruby could handle the library alone for a day and his mother needed to rest. When he sat to eat some toast, and drink a cup of tea, Mrs. Potts eyed him angrily and started to mumble a bunch of bad things about his father and how everything would have been better if Belle just heard her right from the very start and never even got involved with an Incubus.
He had agreed with a couple of wordlessly nods, but they both knew it wasn’t all truth. Gaston had been a horrible husband to Belle and if she hadn’t loved Rumford, she would have been fated to marry that man anyway, but instead of having her good memories of a time she cherished and a son that came from the greatest love of her life, all she would know would be sad and grey, like endless cloudy cold winter days. Maybe things weren’t perfect right now, but they also weren’t the worst picture they could have been painted into.
Gideon scanned the crowdy corridors, trying to find Alice, but she didn’t seem to be anywhere around and he wondered if she really would come to school, when he felt someone tapping his shoulder and suddenly remembered that is best friend usually got a ride with him.
"Hey, sorry I didn't make it to your house yesterday,” Roderick was already saying, showing him a tiny smile. “I feel asleep on my sofa, with costume on and everything else and only woke up after midnight."
A frown appeared in Gideon’s face, because Roderick had dark circles around his eyes, which indicated that either he hadn’t slept well as he claimed to or he had painted his face for Hallowing and didn’t manage to take it all of properly.
"That's alright, Rod,” Gideon answered anyway. “I had problems too, so I don't believe I would have gone for any tricks or treats."
Roderick waved his head with a smirk as they walked own the hallway, but then, he suddenly stopped near the door of their first class of the day, taking a look at the informative board with lifted eyebrows.
"Oh, man she really did it," he whined.
"What?"
"Mrs. Nolan,” Roderick pointed out, gesticulating to the list on the board, “she listed us for the staging."
"I can't believe," Gideon complained.
But yet, that was it, they were being called to participate Storybrooke’s annual staging of the civil war. The town had a long field – which once had really been a battle field – where every single year, the school took the students to, so they could pull on some ridiculous costumes, pretend they were shooting with old guns and then have some of the local food. It was boring and the last thing someone wanted to do, but as a way to make the students attend to the event, it had a weight on their final grade. In other words, it their presence was obligatory.
"You better do," Rod chuckled. "I bet you'll at least look great in a civil war costume."
Grunting one last time, Gideon entered the classroom. His life couldn’t possibly get worst. Or so was what he thought.
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lalesath-blog · 7 years
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In the post Vnc vs Pandora Hearts, you said the all the PH characters felt "whole" I'm planning on making a novel of some sort and want to know what you mean by "whole" can you give me like a long-ass paragraph of what is whole and what is not? Or what is it that made you feel the characters were "whole"? Thank you!😘
Oh dear lord, anon. Okay. Before we start, let me just tack on a disclaimer saying that… where as I believe most of what I’m about to say is generally accepted/“fact” some things may undoubtedly be or sound more subjective. So just keep in mind that this is my own perspective on the matter. Also: PANDORA HEARTS SPOILERS (since I assume you’ve read it?)
This is kind of a … tricky thing to answer. Saying “they should feel like a real person” is unhelpfully vague. Not to mention, plenty of real people are decidedly shallow;;
Achieving realistic characters starts with knowing them as the writer. Really knowing them. Knowing where they grew up. What their first pet was. What they eat as comfort food. What their “mindless” habits are. How many nicknames they’ve had. How many nicknames still remain. The feeling they get when they think of the nickname they haven’t heard spoken for 6 years because the only person who ever used it walked out of their life…. Obviously I just mean to say that you should KNOW your characters. Even seemingly trivial details. I’m not saying you have to know what color nail polish your character wears on Wednesdays, but getting a grasp on little things can shed a little light on personality quirks/habits that will make your character more nuanced.
Lots of little details tend to form tangible, meaningful results. Combine that with some original plot details and voilà~ Example: Knowing Sharon is very much into romance content gives some insight into how easily flustered and excitable she gets even regarding her interactions with Break. How she reacts to Alice’s curiosity and her kiss with Oz. She’s a romantic. In more than one sense. Which means she’s also going to be insecure about her body not developing… which ties into a plot detail about legal contracts.
—-Another really obvious thing… is that they need to grow. Develop. And despite popular belief, this development doesn’t have to be positive. There simply has to be a discernible process of getting from point A to point B. Sometimes this is more subtle (especially with secondary characters). And sometimes this is abrupt… but there always has to be meaning to it.
Example: Something I really, really loved… not to break anyone’s heart again… was Elliot’s flip. He was adamantly against self-sacrifice in the beginning of the manga. He tore into Oz, trying to communicate that that way of thinking was harmful/disrespectful to the people he cared about. And how that kind of thinking was inherently selfish/self-righteous and would only hurt the people he claimed to love… And Oz trying to claim that it would be FOR them.
Cut to Elliot choosing to sacrifice his own life to “end the nightmare” (so to speak)… and even to save Oz the burden of having to kill him.“I’m sorry, Leo.”
(I’m not crying… You’re crying).
—-In general though, I think being able to make your reader feel sympathy or EMPATHY for your characters is extremely important. ESPECIALLY when it comes to antagonists, imo. There’s nothing worse than a flat villain. If you don’t care about the source causing your protagonist to struggle, you can’t really take the story seriously, you know? And I cared about every damn character in PH. No matter which side they were leaning towards at any given time.
And characters should engage the reader. Cause them to think. Always. If you have someone questioning their own morality, you’ve hit god tier (Psycho Pass and Code Geass hit me hard with this). Make your characters convince me. All of them. Of everything. If I can’t be convinced they’re right, I at least need to understand. Which usually means delving into multiple layers of emotions. Example:–What does Vincent Want?Vince Wants to Erase His Existence For GilBecause He Wants Gil To Be HappyBecause Gil Never Abandoned Him–Why would he think Gil should abandon him?Because he was a child of misfortune born to parents who abandoned him/them and he felt he was nothing but a burden on his brother.–Why is he willing to go as far as killing himself?Because, due to the above, he never had a sense of self-worth in the first place… and the further trauma/guilt he sustained after the tragedy of sablier made it all the worse.
~~~Multiple Layers & Repeating Patterns~~~ Makes him feel super real, doesn’t it?And sure, Vincent comes across as an asshole a lot of the time… especially early on. But did I cry over his feelings for Gil and when he hugged Ada? You bet I did. Not to mention, I had Echo’s perspective of him as well. Which is another important detail. Characters adding more dimensions to each other through their various povs. 
Aaand now to the super obvious. Characters should have both negative/positive bits. Protagonists generally lean WAY TOO FAR onto the positive side (for me)… minus their one (1) hang-up. Which is usually a simple, easily explainable complex. Like the overly generic [UNDERDOG] issue…. ANYWAY.
People have flaws. People have insecurities. People have bad habits and different ways of reacting to conflict. Different reasons for acting the way they do. Make sure you know them. Example:Leo, for instance, comes across as being subdued. But he’s more volatile than Elliot. Why does he present as subdued? Because in their context, Elliot’s fire tends to put his out. How does Leo confront conflict? By literally letting someone else take control from him while he tries to ignore it. He’s been an escapist his entire life. Hair in his eyes. Glasses that block his vision. Books to distract himself with. Etc. It’s a reoccurring theme with Leo even in his day-to-day demeanor… which means it was important to know from the get-go.
And to cont. from a bit above… everyone also has bits of light. Even a sociopath. Maybe you create a sociopathic serial killer who, every Thursday, leaves a homeless boy a bag of take-out in the alley behind the restaurant the killer and his ex used to visit… before he killed them. The boy had seen him do it, yet hadn’t screamed or alerted anyone. And now your killer practices this sentimental ritual that he doesn’t understand. Maybe, by the end, he forms his own understanding.I think making the reader feel curious never hurts. Make them form questions they want answers to. Even little ones. If I never wonder about ANYTHING, there’s probably not enough detail. I’m not even saying there have to be definitive answers just… I want to notice things. Like why is break always eating candy? Does he actually like sweet things? He didn’t SEEM the type in the past? Is it just to compensate for his former personality? Is it because of Shelly? Is it a shout-out to Emily? Like with the doll? Did he used to smoke? Also he doesn’t drink??? Why? 
Really good characters? It’s like looking at them through a prism. By the end, you’ve seem them in a dozen shades of light. Example:
—-Xerxes Break:The MentorThe Loyal ServantThe Protector/The KnightThe Serial KillerThe VictimThe Wild CardThe Suicide RiskThe Comic Relief The BAMFThe Needy ChildThe Cold, Near-RecluseThe Brother FigureThe Partner  The Unhinged ClownThe [Tragic] HeroEtc.
He’s played dozens of roles on his own and through his relationships with other characters. Some of which are exceedingly different.
When you really get down to it, I think I personally also love the characters in PH so much because I can find something to relate to in all of them.Whether it be Lacie’s otherworldy dissociation, Leo’s escapist tendencies, Sharon’s drunken queen play, Oswald’s bluntness, or Vincent’s self-worth issues… I just. They feel like so much more? From their quirks & hobbies (Ada’s what… VOODOO room? hahaha/the trio of book nerds/Break and his doll… and his candy/Alice and being a massive carnivore/Gil smoking to emulate Oscar… and being afraid of cats/Elliot secretly ADORING cats but not wanting to admit it;;). To their contradictions. Their incorrect views on themselves. And on each other. The various self-realizations. The great dialogue. Just… asdfghjkl
ARGH. It’s SO hard to explain. Just. Characters are more than their goals and their easily definable trope traits. They’re more than their role in the story they’re in and that should come across.
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pensivity · 6 years
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[ @nunside - hanhae. ]
Spring comes in gusts — soft, gentle, with the messy delicacy of the season’s own breezy ‘hello’s’ and all the strangers’ wishes its collected ( it’s both the preserver and destroyer, dear romanticist ). She can add her wishes to the list. Spring makes her want to feel more hopeful; she survived a winter, after all.  She wants to believe that this lightness ( the feeling of sundresses in may, shedding the last of her winter coats along with last winter’s regrets ) lasts forever but she can’t help but feel hopeless when even the Azaleas start to lose their colors and the once delightful Cherry Blossoms once again become a background character.  This is life. Seasons. The days grow a minute longer each time she marks off her calendar, and summer draws closer. She will have to go home.
She relies too much on acceptance yet looks for it in the wrong people — what a pitiful waste of time to wait on an impossible entity. 
But when she meets spring again, she hopes she’ll think of all her lost stanzas. She’ll make her own garden, forget how to breathe in it.
But that is not for this spring. And maybe it’s all just karma that spring’s wind is dealing because in the midst of wanting so much acceptance, she has a hard time accepting others. Perhaps these things are hereditary ( what a cursed, cursed family ).
Curses are a funny though, because, sometimes, they’re quite hard to place. Sometimes they’re all bad, destructive, a SHAKESPEAREAN TRAGEDY; however, sometimes, they could lead you to where you need to be. Perhaps even a school festival that brings back a wayward boy. The one that’s been gone for a long time in a way that’s hard to label as just positive or negative. Maybe just right. 
And its a moment of either breaking or following instincts, the kind where your soul and drumming heart maybe want to reach out but that defensive brain just doesn’t know if seven years is a wait that’s long enough. 
And if these dusty flowers weren’t shedding from their branches like one of Monet’s dreams, she wouldn’t have to doubt whether she still knew this old love. ( but romanticism is another one of those curses )
And it’s confusing for her, and she hates how much she feels like her mother. Because she is angry, annoyed, disgusted by his choices ( and the fact that his only other choice was just as shitty, if not WORSE, just makes here even more irritated ). But then she remembers... But cannot forgive for whatever damn reason she lies about ( maybe an unforgiving nature is an inheritable gene, too ).
But despite this bitterness she has fostered for years, she cannot forget that he was once a friend. Her closest. One of her only.  One who ignored her plainness despite living in a society where looking in the mirror should be a confirmation of beauty, not a search. One who was cut off by a mother who trades sanity for reputation.
She couldn’t even call him. And she knows that it isn’t his fault, but she still blames him because it’s easier to blame someone you don’t know anymore. That is, until you know them again.
But there’s still a satisfaction she refuses to give him.  Maybe a part of her think she’s better than him in some elitist way
( which would undoubtedly be a lie to forget how her heart fluttered so all seven years ago ).
So she refuses to say hello, because being first would sound like the forgiveness she can’t respect him ( or mentally, herself ) enough to give. But if she stands close to him...maybe she can pay him the POLITE respect of responding to an old friend — any other reaction would be plain rude, correct? 
She crosses her heart her mother never finds out. And she regrets her steps and her secret desperation to be in his peripheral vision. She thinks it’s funny that she finds herself, a twenty-one year old woman, pretending to look at something that just so happens to be next to him. She regresses to her younger self; these youthful ideals are a delicacy which she had chosen to no longer indulge in. Until now     a moment she never truly expected after summers of dead dandelions and her neck on a silk leash. And she wonders if he could even recognize her; long, long, hair chopped off, those girlish ribbons burned along with youthful aspirations. No dresses, no pearls. Part of her hopes he won’t recognize her in the same way that Alice may wish she never fell into Wonderland; that rabbit hole is a place of madness.
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coordinatesofher · 7 years
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WALKING IN A DESERT WONDERLAND
I had been traveling quite a bit for a few months at this point, back to back, with little breaks in between. I had just made it back into LA only to stay a few days before taking a red eye to New Orleans for Christmas break. I had been working around the clock and was utterly burnt out, but despite my tired eyes, I gathered myself together for a dinner that my sister had arranged. It was a meeting with a designer that she was convinced I needed to help me with COH°.
I was drowning in article ideas, content creation, and company expansion prospects. I had a vision and lots of dreams, but I was a one woman show... an exhausted one at that. But, here I was sitting across from this talented young creative, Macie Menard. Even with my brain working at half capacity, it was easy to see that she was bright, smart, and a hard worker. Also, she had a calming spirit about her which was a great yin to my crazy yang. 
There was never a lull in the conversation. We hit it off. We had a lot in common in terms of interests, design aesthetic, and website ideas. And, most importantly, she loved food. We spent at least an hour just discussing our favorite foods and restaurants. That was all I needed to know. She was my kind of people. I was thoroughly impressed with her. My sister had been right. Macie was my girl. 
I offered her a job and a trip to Los Angeles the following month. I knew I would know everything I needed to know about her if I traveled with her. And, of course, for better or for worse, she would learn a lot about me and how I work and travel. Soooo, we set out on a weekend adventure together and did everything from mountain hikes to greenhouse exploring in the desert. Needless to say, the road trip was a blast, and we have continued to work together for the past 7 months.
I have come to discover that not only is Macie an incredible designer and a brilliant talent, but she is also a constant source of light in my life. Every Monday, without fail, we send each other long emails that we now affectionately call our "Coffee Chats." We basically both rant about life, the past weekend, ideas for the website, or random things that are inspiring us. I have come to look forward to those emails and to our weekly Skype chats about design and content creation.
Most of the graphics on this website are ideas that we both collaborate on together. Then, Macie makes them all magically come to life. Aside from graphic designing, she has also developed article ideas like our upcoming "Beauty Buys" article, and she has helped me in countless other ways to grow COH°. I have never thought of her as an employee. In my mind, she is a colleague and a friend that I work with on this vision we have come to define together.
Suffice to say, I was completely delighted to sit down and chat with her about our deep love for Los Angeles, working together at COH°, and, of course, our adventure weekend last February. Exploring California and visiting the Cactarium together was the pinnacle of everything we have come to stand for at COH°... "road trips, friendships, and a damn good plant photo." Yep, I just found my life's mantra. I'm going to need that on a t-shirt ASAP. Anyway, read more from us below!
xoxo,
KB
Here is my interview with Macie Menard on her thoughts about LA culture, California adventures, and, of course, the Cactarium:
Can you tell our readers a little about yourself?
I'm a self-taught graphic designer living in Louisiana. I'm married to my best friend/favorite travel buddy, and we have an English Bulldog named Ivy...who eats EVERYTHING.
How did you end up in California?
Well, it didn’t take much convincing. I had just recently joined the COH° team, so I made the trip out to LA in order to get to know my new boss a little more...well a lot more haha!
Girl, we got to know each really well within the first 20 mins of you being in LA. It is a hilarious story, but, we will keep it just between us for now! (lol)
Yeah, it was definitely an ice breaker!
So, I can't remember, had you been to Cali before?
Oh yes. I was there almost 2 years ago, but this visit made me emotional. When I flew into Los Angeles the sun was setting and the sky was pink. I literally shed a tear and thought: 'I would move here in a heartbeat. It feels like home.' 
I feel that every time I land. I completely understand. It is such a weird, quirky city, but for whatever reason, it’s the place I feel the most at home or the most myself rather. You know my vote on you moving. 
Yes, I know! It's more than a feeling (unintentional Journey reference about my journey to LA). For lack of a better word, LA is so inspiring. I love the city. Most people are disenchanted with the noise, traffic jams, and overpopulation, but I can totally look past all that. I like being in the mix of it all, but still being invisible in the crowds and in my own little world.
Honestly, that is my favorite part too. Nothing makes me happier than going to the grocery store and no one knows who I am. That anonymity is something I have come to love. What else is it about LA that really just sprinkles your donuts?
I also like that if you need a get away or want a change of scenery, it's just a drive and/or hike away. I still can't believe that the first morning in LA, I was hiking a mountain. In the afternoon, I was walking on a beach. The very next day we were snow tubing up in the mountains, and by that night we were in the desert and on the outskirts of Palm Springs. Mind. Blown.
Yeah, I definitely kept you on-the-go. You got a true 'Kristi Bailey - COH° experience'!
And, I loved every minute of it!
So, speaking of Palm Springs.... let's chat about the Cactarium!
OH! It was like walking in a desert version of Alice in Wonderland! 
Thats a great way to describe it actually. I love that. It was such a wonderfully weird place.
Oh yes. I was in heaven. Shoutout and a huge “thank you!” to the amazing Anna Gumpert for finding this place. There were cacti and succulents everywhere.
Some people might say that it was plantastic. 
Yes, some people who love dad jokes. (I'm sure most dad's wouldn't miss the opportunity to say plantastic. #CactusJokesOnPoint) Oh, that reminds me, I love that within our first 24 hours together, we spent time planting succulents on your rooftop patio. It was my kind of bonding experience!
We planted so many plants that afternoon. And, I’ve only managed to kill half of them so thats a big win for me. I’m sad I lost the others. It really succs... see what I did there ;) Don't worry. I've got plenty more where that came from. Anyway, it was nice to share my succulent obsession with someone with an equal or possibly greater obsession.
My obsession actually started at a young age. My great-grandmother had a gigantic pot of Echeveria. I had never seen a plant like it before. I sat there in awe as she cracked open a petal to show me it’s jelly-like filling and shared with me the perks of it’s low-maintenance and reproducing nature. It was then that I decided that when I grew up, I wanted to be a plant lady.
I actually lost you a few times in the gardens. You were totally in your element.
I really loved it there. When we got to the end of our journey through the cacti forest, there was a nursery with a selection of plants for sell. Of course, I had to get plants to go! The owner and his wife were there to give us the history of his father’s garden. They also assured me that my mini plants were allowed on the plane. (Travel tip: Plants are allowed to fly out of California, but not in.)
Yes, you can take anything on a plane out of Cali, but you can't bring things into the state. It functions as its own country in that way. Once, I saw a woman carry a whole raw Trader Joes turkey on a plane out of LA so I'm thinking a succulent is fine. Anyway, were you nervous about taking the plants in flight?
I was still a nervous wreck, and did not want to get my plants taken away from me, so I wrapped them up and hid them in my laptop bag for the whole flight. They made it home, and I still have one healthy cactus to start my future cactarium. 
OMG! Please start one!!! That would be both hilarious and amazing. Anyway, thank you for chatting with me! I’m so glad you “pricked” to be a part of the COH° team. It feels great to go from a 'cacti to a cactus.'
Honestly, ‘aloe’ working with you. Let’s stick together.
I do wish you lived here. Everything succs without you.
I will never desert you.
Wow. We are such succas' for plant puns! Macie, thank you so much for taking the time to chat about our experience at the Cactarium. I know we both loved it. Let's start planning our next adventure! I'm thinking passport this time! COH° gotta get those stamps!
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