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returnofnonya · 11 months

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From Thief To House Husband Part 3: Finale

Life was nearly perfect now. The eldest son of the Smith family was under my control. Or rather, under the control of my best friend Roy. Regardless he was too busy going to raves at gay clubs and getting his back blown out at night to cause me any more problems.

The other two Smith boys had already moved out and were enjoying their independence, so things were going perfectly.

Until Mrs. Smith came home. I had to pretend to love this woman, which was difficult because quite frankly I didn’t even like her. I was able to endure it until she told me that she got promoted again, this time to a position that would require less travel. No more business trips to leave me alone so that I could have my free time.

I tried putting up with her, but apparently distance creates longing. She wanted to spend time with her husband, oblivious to the fact that he didn’t even exist anymore. I couldn’t take it anymore, so on Christmas Day her annual handmade gift was divorce papers that I printed out after my lawyer sent them over.

Rather unfortunately for me, she was the breadwinner and stood to keep a pretty hefty sum of her fortune. I knew I had to sabotage her in the divorce, so I’d have to call upon the only potential ally I had left, Officer Kevin.

Kevin was an older guy on the police force, now a detective. He had always shown Roy and I mercy and tried to help us get on the right path. One of the only good pigs in existence as Roy and I would put it. I knew he had his regrets, so I decided to stop by the station and give him the opportunity of a lifetime.

Upon my arrival I requested to speak with him privately, and being a rich white man I found that it was pretty easy to walk into a police station and ask for whatever I wanted. In a matter of minutes Kevin and I were alone in the conference room.

“Uh…Mr Smith, it’s a pleasure as always to see you, but the incident happened almost a month ago. I’m not sure how else we could possibly help you.” He stated, confused.

“Not the police department, but you, Kevin Bacon.” I grinned, a nickname Roy and I had for him.

“Oh I see Roy has been influencing you a bit, yes?”

I shook my head. “No. Mateo. See Bacon, I didn’t die. I transferred myself into a new, fancy body.” I pulled out my briefcase and showed him the vials. “Each of these can extract my consciousness and allow me to focus on someone. They allowed me to take over this asshole, and for Roy to take over his son. Our lives have been paradise, but unfortunately this body’s wife has returned home. I filed for divorce, but there’s a problem. His wife is being represented by Santiago.”

Bacon caught on surprisingly quickly having seen lots of strange things unfold in his time on the force. “I see…it does suck for you that ‘your’ wife is being represented by the most bloodthirsty lawyer out there.” Bacon hated Santiago, he was one of the best lawyers around and loved by rich white trash. He could get DUI charges of a rich kid shotgunning tequila on a security camera behind the wheel of his car dismissed and sealed from the records.

“Yes, right now we both hate him, so I have a proposal for you. Become Santiago. Sabotage my wife’s chances against me, get me as much money as you can. Then you can spend your life as a relatively younger and incredibly wealthy lawyer and make sure he never lets another scumbag off easy.”

Bacon thought about this proposal, and his life. He got into the force to make the world a better place and tried to help good guys in bad situations like Roy and I. He had obviously failed in that department given that he and I stole other people’s lives and bodies. Come to think of it, he didn’t accomplish a single one of his goals. Surely by taking an asshole like Santiago’s body, he could stand to make some changes in the world using his resources and connections!

“…okay, I’m in.” He said, hesitant and determined at the same time. We sat down and began forming the perfect plan.

Later that night Santiago was in his office. Highest floor of the building, of course. He was preparing himself for a charity gala, despite really not giving a fuck about anyone underneath his tax bracket. He likes to go and enjoy fine wine and network while cutting one the smallest checks at the event. Given the fact that my vessel was currently involved in one of Santiago’s cases, it was pretty easy to be let into his office. Bacon and I walked in together, a half filled vial in my pocket for when the time would come.

That’s when we saw him wearing this stupid outfit. What possible reason would he have to wear this to a gala? Apparently he read the shock on our faces and simply said, “It’s noir themed. Now how can I help you Mr. Smith? Here to beg for mercy in the coming divorce? Having a beat cop with you won’t intimidate me at all.” This seemed to piss Bacon off, so he chimed in right away, “No. We’re here to tell you that you’ll be famous for negotiating one of the worst divorce deals in history after we’re done with you.” He seemed determined, so I handed him the vial and he took it immediately, throwing his soul into the unsuspecting Santiago who groaned, stumbling back for a moment before chuckling.

“Oh my god! I’m 20 years younger, and apparently hung like a horse! But…why do I feel so light?” Bacon asked using his new mouth. “Simple. I gave you half of a vial. You’re not rooted inside of Santiago like I am into this asshole, and you won’t be unless I’m satisfied with how the divorce ends. Keep in mind my body died after I abandoned it, so who knows what will happen if the possession expires?” Bacon looked shocked but I just chuckled and walked up to him, copping a feel of his new tits. “I need my insurance policy. You’re a good guy, after all. Now how about you stop looking like a betrayed puppy and show me how big that new meat is?” Due to the stress of his job and his former age, it had been a while since Kevin got laid. He was in no position to say no.

Soon enough we were making out fiercely, me ripping his button shirt open and grabbing at his tits while he pulled my pants and underwear off in one swift move using his new body’s strength. “Put it in, I’m ready…” I whispered against his lips. He seemed shocked by that given Santiago’s size, but it made sense when he reached for my hole and realized I had a vibrator inside of me all day long. He pulled it out, earning a moan from me as he shoved himself fully inside, causing me to arch my back and moan even louder.

Santiago was a regular Casanova. His assistant was paid more than enough to turn a blind eye to the secret after hour meetings that went on in his office. The sound of skin slapping filled the room as Bacon hammered me like his life depended on it. Even with my prep Santiago’s meat was huge and earned more and more moans from me as I gripped the edges of the desk for dear life. “Goddamn he’s a monster! No wonder he’s so fucking audacious!” I moaned as I clenched my hole around his cock, leaning up to start sucking on his tits.

“I haven’t had sex this good since the fucking 80s!” Bacon moaned out as he slammed in and out of me. His attention was directed to a mirror in the office and he watched himself as he controlled Santiago’s body, forcing it to have sex with the enemy who he was about to sabotage the whole case for. He couldn’t hold it anymore and he slammed one final time, moaning loudly as he busted deep inside of me and triggered a chain reaction, making me shoot a high arch that splattered his tits. I was only human, there was only so much prostate abuse I could take.

We stayed still for a moment, both panting and covered in sweat, a stupid grin on our faces. “Mm…here’s to getting our perfect life, Bacon.” I said before smacking his ass. “Now, go and begin sabotaging this case then you can keep his body forever and drop by to have some fun with me and my son.” I winked and slid out from underneath him.

Soon after that life went exactly as it should have always been for me. Kevin honored his end of the deal and made sure to destroy my wife’s case against me by creating a fake affair, allowing me to get away with 60% of her assets. I then let him drink the rest of the vial and permanently become Santiago.

From there on, life was a breeze. My other sons cut contact with me, the one that stayed was a whore who loved pleasing me, and I had a massively hung lawyer who lived to please me and get me out of any legal trouble I found myself in.

My days of being a thief were behind me, for good now.

(I had some pretty severe writer’s block but I figured you guys deserved a finish story. Hope you liked the thief to house husband series!)

#male possession #older to younger #revenge #male body possession

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eoharu · 2 years

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this will be my overall thought about this drama theme, and let me start it with changhee. it surprise me that changhee suddenly got into debt, he even paid it with all money he saved for 10 years working his ass off, more mind blowing that it was a debt that coming not from his fault nor ignorance but from his utmost sincerity. he even insist a noble act not to tell anyone the real reason, even to his closest friends.

but being the changhee, just like his friends said, he cannot keep it inside him. so he tell the water porter boy about Return to Paradise film, which ironically similar to what happen between him, hyeona and the dying hyung (I'm sorry i forget his name). he tell about his story subtly to him.

This synopsis is very similar to what happen between the three, second paragraph is definitely changhee sending away the hyung gently until he find his peaceful final moment, but reading the line "he also gives sheriff unknown period of jail time" makes my heart ache. I mean, the hyung got to die peacefully thanks to changhee, but changhee whose still alive has to endure many cosnquences for it. it clearly weighed him down, not only about the money, but also his relationship with hyeona. we've literally seen him breakdown. and honestly he doesnt deserve to suffer, after all selfless effort he did for others...

after the ending, comparing all events that happen to all characters, the "unknown period of jail time" said above feel like life itself. and as long as we live, we'll never fully liberated. we'll feel like as if we jailed; caged not knowing when we'll ever be at utmost peace and happiness. because it is life, just like the tide, push and pull, seconds ago i was happy and now i feel like shit. and it's constantly goes like that as long as we live. but this mbl really told me that amongst this crashing waves, we're not a helpless soul being tossed here and there. we still can find a little space where we fight back and can take control, where we can make choices to make us feel liberated; even only for a moment.

gu never feel liberated because he always feel whenever he has good day something bad always follows, he never had a perfect day. i think that's most of us perceive life, unless we feel complete happiness we think our life is a shit. but what a relieving revelation from mijeong, not a day, let alone a lifetime, life should be filled with happiness. it only need five minutes a day. it's okay even if you're happy for ten seconds. collect it diligently and it'll make life bearable. I think that's such a powerful mindset to carry on this exhausting life.

and i think that's somehow gu is liberated. such a silly me to think the choice will be either he's dead or he totally leave his dark life and live happily with mijeong, even to the point he stop being alcoholic. it should've been obvious that they won't choose such extreme choice, it's a slice-of-life and throughout the episodes there are always two side of coins and they coexist.

something sickening always happen to gu, he clearly cannot stop doing his job let alone the worst drinking habit, but then he make effort to notice and appreciate more about his surrounding, and especially since there's mijeong there embracing him as he is. he change himself step by step, every little step he takes make difference (putting down his alcohol is already a huge milestone). mijeong still have so many hatred but now she's also feel so loved since there's gu worshipping her; her saving her ex face from misunderstanding when she initially want him always to be perceived as terrible person is also an achievement itself.

gijeong and taehun face so many obstacles unresolved, but they still continue to love and understand each other. for me, the way they love even though their surroundings make it difficult, it's also their way of being liberated. changhee both experience owning a car and a store, but in return he also lose something big. yet, for his lose, his sincerity and good nature open a new path, to even better place he himself doesnt even know yet. I love how universe lead the changhee that has no real goal nor ambition to best places he's at first unaware. as if that's a karma for his good deeds and very fitting for his personality. he has no goal, so finally he's given one. one that make his fate always send people away will become a blessing, become his passion. that's somehow a littleㅡif it's not hugeㅡliberation for changhee who never have any desire nor passion within him.

that scene when taehun feel sorry about little kid because they'll probably face the harsness of the world, that's totally, exactly, what i always feel. i feel worried more than excited to see my little nieces & nephews grow up. but since life needs to goes on, for those who already live, what a living person should do?

this drama answer it so well. we're all served in these 16 eps how mundane life can be, it's exhausting, it's make you sick, even every little thing could annoy you. life often not goes in the way we want. in life sometimes we have really a limited choice. sometimes what we desire we don't get, sometimes we don't have any desire at all.

but it's really not always bad, and you, yourself, can make it better. you have choice and control to feel better by being grateful to every little thing happen around you, no matter how mundane it may seems. chatting with your friends, graced by nature, eat together after work, a coin that didn't fall the drain, someone calling your name... anything that make you smile, happy, or at least less miserable. if you're looking hard for it, you'll find it. gu didn't find his happiness all day long, and when he saw snow he feel better and that was enough for him. I think we're all, who's struggling to find happiness between our mundane life, could apply what he did too.

to be honest, at first i was taken aback by the ending, but after some reflection it's really such a nice, enough, and most importantly peaceful ending. like, i know life would be still exhausting as ever. but I'm kinda excited to collect my five minutes of happiness now. it feels like this drama, like how changhee hold the dying's hand, tell me as a matter of fact, that no matter how worst the life i get, i can be happy. I can go through this. i just have to move forward, and even it doesnt need big steps. i am able to be happy, make myself happy, and at last be at peace, even if it's only for a moment.

and then realization hit meㅡah... so that's what this drama try all along; to liberate me, liberate us.

#my liberation notes #my: rants #i feel so content #it fixed!!!! MBL enter my top TOP top fav drama #this drama should bagged many awards #AT LEAST BEST SCRIPT #and yep 2521 writer please take a note

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dothwrites · 4 years

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15.20 coda--at the end of the world

author’s note: while i am still reeling from the finale, this was my way of making some kind of personal peace with it. don’t mistake this for me agreeing with the choices made <3

---

“I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”--Madeline Miller

---

Castiel opens his eyes.

All around him is green. A moment later, he hears the soft sound of birds chirping in the background; from further away, the faint sounds of children laughing. The air is ripe with the smell of growth, damp in the air and life underneath his fingers.

He sits up. The sky is a perfect shade of blue, the kind found only in poet’s and painters imaginations. A few feet away, the shrubs grow, flowers spilling over themselves in their enthusiasm to be born. Everything is a riot of life and color.

“Cas.”

Castiel’s heart thumps against his ribs. He knows that voice.

He whirls around, already knowing who he’ll find. Several feet away, Jack waits, one hand raised in a short wave.

Castiel finds himself up on his feet, and within two short steps, he’s enfolded Jack in his arms. For a moment, he forgets about everything which came before, and allows himself this sheer comfort. If nothing else remains, then Jack is here.

Jack hugs him back, twice as fiercely, before they separate. Castiel holds him at arm’s length, trying to find injuries or hurt on him, but there’s nothing. In fact, it’s almost as if...

“Jack,” he says slowly, his arm falling away from Jack’s shoulder, “what happened?”

Jack smiles, a little lopsided, but still his boy.

“Well,” he says, gesturing towards a bench, “It’s kind of a long story.

---

For all that Jack said it was a long story, it ends up being remarkably quick in the telling. Castiel listens, sometimes grieving and sometimes proud, as he hears of how Sam, Dean, and Jack ultimately defeated Chuck. His heart grows in his chest as Jack recounts Dean’s words.

That’s not who I am.

A small part of him wishes that he could be there to see it, but he tucks that part of himself away. He said his piece. He relieved the burden which has been pressing down on his shoulders now for years. In his lifetime, it was nothing more than a blip on the map, but those years have made all the difference in the world to him. Finally, he can look back on them now without regrets.

“And so, I came here,” Jack finally says, shifting a little on the bench. He looks oddly guilty, like the times Castiel would find him sneaking snacks back into his room. “I thought...”

“What?’ Castiel prompts, after a few moments when it becomes clear that Jack has no interest in speaking.

“Sam and Dean don’t really need me anymore. I mean, I know that they want me, but the world is bigger now. And the people up here need me too.”

It’s then that Castiel looks around, scrutinizing his environment more closely. The nagging sense of familiarity hits and then he wonders how he didn’t see it before. His favorite Heaven, caught in an eternal Tuesday afternoon.

“It’s not right,” Jack says, his forehead wrinkled into an earnest expression of worry. “The people here are stuck. While I was on earth, we all talked about free will, but the people here don’t have it. They’re stuck forever in an endless loop of memories, and it’s all just...empty.”

Jack looks at Castiel, and Castiel doesn’t see God. He doesn’t see a divine being, or Lucifer’s son, or even an angelic being. He just sees his boy, lost and confused, but still so pure, still wanting to do the right thing, no matter what.

“Cas?” Jack asks. “Will you help me?”

---

Rebuilding Heaven is slow work, but time doesn’t really mean anything here. It’s delicate to rebuild the walls separating billions of souls so that nothing collapses. Castiel works alongside Jack, making suggestions as his mind trips along to potential problems.

Though it’s never said aloud, Castiel knows why Jack is working tirelessly. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, the knowledge sits that Sam and Dean are going to die. One day, they will pass from the earth, and come to Heaven, and on that day, Castiel wants everything to be perfect for them. He wants to show them a true paradise, a place without walls or barriers, a place where emotion is genuine and not just a manufactured memory. Rebuilding Heaven is his last chore, the last of his penance to be performed.

He does make one stop, however.

When he walks in the door, Kelly’s head lifts up from the book she’s flipping through. Her smile is a balm to the hurt places inside him, the ones that he likes to pretend don’t exist, because he was happy, yes? That was the whole point of everything, was to be happy. “Hey, Cas,” she greets him, shifting over and patting the couch next to her. “I was wondering when you’d be by.”

“I’ve been busy,” Cas says, settling down on the cushions. In Heaven, his body is easier than it was on earth, more flexible, and he wonders if that’s because after all these years, he’s finally returned to where he was supposed to belong, or if it’s because he no longer has the shadow of his love pressing down on his shoulders.

“Jack told me. Rebuilding Heaven? Sounds ambitious.”

“The old Heaven was...not ideal,” Castiel says. “I thought it was at the beginning: each soul gets a paradise tailor made to them. But then, I realized that human life is meaningless without the connections we form along the way. Each soul, stuck forever in its own loop is...”

“It’s lonely,” Kelly says, reaching out and squeezing his hand. Castiel returns the gesture, grateful for the connection. Her eyes are kind as she moves closer to him, her shoulder pressing into his.

“So what happened?”

---

In their time together, Castiel never told Kelly about Dean, at least not explicitly. But she had a brilliant mind and was able to see the threads of his longing woven into everything he did. Relating the story to her comes easily, and he tells her things which he would never tell Jack.

“And I was happy,” Castiel says at the end. “I was.”

“You trying to convince me or yourself?”

“Neither,” Castiel replies, bristling slightly. It was true that he might have been happier--he had performed a willful obfuscation of the original terms--but that doesn’t negate what he felt in that moment. The sheer love, the overwhelming gratitude, the incandescent happiness of being able, one last time, to proclaim to the world Dean Winchester is Saved.

Everything else is unimportant when viewed through those lenses.

“Why haven’t you gone to see him?” Kelly was always good at cutting to the heart of the problem.

“Dean has his life on earth. I have my work here in Heaven. I don’t...” Because, of course, he’s asked himself the same question many times. Why doesn’t he go find Dean and tell him of one last, improbable miracle?

“Cas, let me tell you: I didn’t know Dean all that well, but I didn’t need to if I wanted to know how he felt about you. It was all over his face.” Kelly turns to face him, suddenly serious. “Cas, you should go to him. At least allow him to speak his side. If he doesn’t feel the same way, then you’ll know. And if he does...”

Castiel shakes his head. Happiness in the being is what he’s told himself ever since he awoke to find himself in Heaven. Happiness doesn’t come from the having. He will live with himself and find contentment in the works which he does.

Kelly looks sympathetic, but doesn’t say anything as he walks out.

There’s work to be done.

---

Castiel sighs with satisfaction as he walks through Heaven. Slowly, the walls are coming down. Souls are mingling and interacting. There’s joy in the once quiet halls, the giddiness which comes from freedom after too long without. He moves through the different realms, silent as a thought, and goes unnoticed, at least until a gruff voice catches his attention.

“What the hell are you doing here, boy?”

A wide grin splits Castiel’s face. Only Bobby Singer would think to call an angel ‘boy’. He walks towards the old hunter, who looks the same now as he did in life, and is surprised when Bobby sweeps him up in a hug which would threaten to crack his ribs, were he human.

“You did good,” Bobby whispers, his voice thick in Castiel’s ear. “I heard what you and that boy Jack did, and you did real good.”

It means more than he would have thought, to have Bobby’s approval. After a moment’s pause, he hugs Bobby back.

When Bobby pulls away, he quickly knuckles his eyes, before clearing his throat. “So, you fixed Heaven on top of everything else? What do you have planned next?”

Castiel’s shoulders lift in a shrug. “There’s always work to be done maintaining Heaven. We don’t know what, if any, effects the restructuring will bring, so I suppose I will be traveling and making sure that everything is stable.”

“If that ain’t a load of shit,” Bobby scoffs. “From what I’ve seen, your boy has enough power in his pinky finger to do just about whatever he wants. Stop making excuses and get your feathery ass back down there.”

Castiel swallows. “It’s not quite as simple as that. Sam and Dean have a chance to live their lives, the way that they would wish for them to be lived. It’s not fair of me to intrude.”

“Now, if that isn’t the biggest pile of horseshit I’ve ever heard.” Bobby’s mouth twists underneath his beard. “Only one thing keeping you from going back down to see those boys, and it sure as hell ain’t concern for Heaven or some BS notion that they’re better off without you.” Castiel opens his mouth, but Bobby speaks over him. “And don’t tell me that you’re just waiting either. Something I learned a long time ago--you never have as much time as you think you do.”

Castiel closes his mouth and says nothing.

---

Bobby is wrong.

There’s still time. He doesn’t have to go yet. There’s still work to be done in Heaven, souls to be guided, walls to be broken. Jack still needs him.

There’s still time.

There’s still time, until there isn’t.

---

Castiel feels it before he knows what’s happening. It’s a rift, a tear, something which ripples throughout the universe and comes to hit him in the chest. He staggers backward, hand clutching at his shirt.

His first thought is that Heaven is under attack, but a second’s observation tells him that’s not the case. Everything is fine. The fabric of Heaven remains secure, the souls are unbothered. It’s only him that feels the blow.

With a flutter of wings, Jack appears beside him. His face is a mask of distress, tears welling in his eyes. “Cas,” he cries, clenching his hands into fists at his side. “Cas, it’s--”

“Dean,” Castiel says, finally understanding the bolt of pain which ripped through him.

It was too soon. He doesn’t know how much time has passed on earth, but he knows it was too soon.

It’s always too soon.

“Cas, what do I... I can heal him. I can go and heal him now. I can save him. I can...” Jack trails off, his feet still pacing in desperate circles. “What do I do?”

It’s a child’s question, and Castiel has no answer.

“Free will,” is all he says. “Whatever you do...It’s your decision.”

---

Castiel feels when Dean Winchester’s soul enters Heaven. He held that soul within his grace, he snatched it away from the filth and flames of Hell. He cradled that soul while he was reassembling Dean’s body, pulling atoms out of air to create skin, flesh, and bone. He would know that soul at the end of everything, and he knows it here, when it settles into the place which was created for him.

It was as perfect as Castiel could make it; down to the Impala sitting in the Roadhouse’s parking lot. He created every inch of Dean’s Heaven in homage, in apology.

It wasn’t fair. Dean deserved to live to a ripe old age. He deserved to enjoy the world for which he fought so hard. He should have grown old, should have found peace, should have discovered the foibles and pitfalls of normal, human existence. Dean worked too hard, for too long, and he deserved a kinder, softer fate. Instead, he’s here, and all Castiel can do for him is to craft his Heaven with painstaking care.

He pauses on the boundaries of Dean’s Heaven. Every fiber of him yearns to go forward, to rejoice in Dean’s presence, to see that beloved face again. He wants it so badly he can almost taste it, leather and gasoline and whiskey mingling together until he’s back in the bunker, listening to the sounds of his family--

Castiel takes a step away from the border. First one, then another. After three steps, it becomes easier.

Dean has his paradise, and Castiel won’t interfere.

---

Heaven moves as it always does, timeless and changeless. There is no turn of the earth to mark the passage of time. Instead, it moves like the ocean, rolling waves which are always moving and yet the surface remains the same. Castiel travels through various Heavens, observing the newly liberated souls, and taking his peace from their newfound enjoyment. It eases something within him to see his former home restored, better than it ever was before.

He’s inspecting a field of sunflowers when the sound of a car door closing surprises him. Immediately, his heart lurches in his chest, dipping down to somewhere around his knees before hurtling upwards to lodge in his throat. He swallows before he turns around.

Dean Winchester is there.

Castiel’s heart, always out of his control, performs a quick dance against the confines of his ribs. Dean looks...He looks whole and wonderful, vibrant and alive. The lines around his eyes look as though they’ve been carved through laughter instead of despair. His shoulders sit easier, no longer pressed down with the burden of the entire world.

Castiel licks his lips. “Hello, Dean,” he finally says, when it becomes obvious that Dean has no intention of making the first move.

Dean’s lips quirk up in a grin. “Cas,” he says, not moving from where he’s leaning up against the frame of the Impala. “You’re a hard guy to track down.”

Layers upon layers of subtext are placed within the seemingly simple sentence. Castiel remembers Purgatory as well as anything else, the desperate year of keeping one step ahead of Leviathans while close enough to Dean to protect him if need be.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel says faintly. “I wasn’t aware anyone was looking.”

Dean’s face performs a series of interesting maneuvers, dropping and rising and twisting. It finally settles into an expression like stone as he pushes off the car and storms towards him. Castiel waits, caught up in breathless anticipation of the oncoming storm.

“Look,” Dean growls, reaching out and snagging the lapel of his coat, almost like he wants to ensure that Castiel doesn’t escape. Castiel doesn’t even dream of it; there’s no other place he’d rather be than caught in Dean’s grip. “There was a lot of shit going on at the time, so I didn’t get to say it then, but there’s nothing happening now, so you are going to sit here and listen, all right?”

Castiel nods, but Dean doesn’t seem to notice. “I can’t believe you didn’t...” He runs the hand which isn’t still wrapped up in Castiel’s coat over his face. “You idiot,” he finally breathes. “A couple of dumbasses. You’ve had me, Cas. All along, you’ve had me.”

Castiel looks up at Dean in sharp surprise. When he meets Dean’s eyes, there’s nothing but the infinite compassion which he fell in love with. “You... You’re this force of nature that came bursting into my life. All this time, you’ve always been there, always helping, and I took that for granted, I know I did. But, god, Cas, I should have told you every day how thankful I was to have you there with us. I should have let you know what a miracle you are. You never gave up on me, not once, not even when I deserved it.”

Castiel’s breath hitches in his chest as Dean lets go of his coat. Slowly, with a shaking hand, he reaches up to cup Castiel’s cheek. “You never stopped believing. You never stopped trying. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Dean.” The name bursts out of Castiel’s chest in a harsh breath. Dean’s words are working their way underneath his skin, to the point where his body can’t contain them.

“Cas.” Dean gently angles his face up so that there’s no escape when he says, “I love you.”

“I’m sorry,” explodes from Castiel’s chest, the helplessness and grief he felt when he felt Dean’s soul leaving earth erupting in a single quick sob. “Dean, I’m so sorry, I should have been there, I should have done something, I never should have left you alone--”

“Cas.” Dean’s fingers press into his cheek, not hard, but firmly enough to get his attention. “It sucks, all right? There was so much I wanted...” The corner of his mouth drops. “I was going to get you out, and you, me, and Sam were going to head to the beach. I was going to get you drinking out of a coconut, maybe a Hawaiian shirt. We were going to do Christmas, I was going to take you to a theme park and see if you puked on roller coasters. I wanted...” For a moment, grief so overwhelming that it can’t be touched crosses Dean’s face, but then, with effort, he pushes it away. “There’s so much that I wanted, but it’s done now. And besides, you’ve been busy.” Dean raises his eyebrows. The grin on his face invites Cas to smile as well. “Reforming Heaven?”

“I wanted...There was so much I did wrong here. I thought if I could make it right, that maybe...” Castiel leans his cheek into Dean’s hand. “I wanted it to be perfect for you. You weren’t supposed to be here yet.”

“I know. I know. And it’s not okay, but you’re here, all right? Mom’s here, Bobby’s here, Charlie, and Jess, and Kevin, and Ellen and Jo...They’re all here, and thanks to you, I’m going to see them. You did that, Cas.”

“Jack did most of the work--” Castiel begins, but he’s cut off by the soft press of Dean’s lips against his.

Sparks burst in his chest as Dean’s hand slides around to the back of his neck to cradle his head. His other arm slides around his waist, and suddenly, Castiel is held by Dean Winchester, by this miracle of a man. Dean’s kisses consume him, until he’s no longer Castiel. Instead, he’s heat, and friction, and more.

“You and me,” Dean pants against his lips, pulling away just far enough to run his nose along Castiel’s. “We’ve got time now, Cas, we’ve got so much time. I’m going to take you apart, going to show you how much I love you, every single day. I’m going to show you everything.”

Castiel is drowning in the outpouring of Dean’s devotion. He’s helpless in the riptides. All he can do to save himself is kiss Dean again, tasting salt on their lips from where their tears trace down to their lips. Castiel cries partly for Dean’s missed opportunities and the fact that life is so cruel. But he also cries from happiness. Dean is right. Here, they have all the time they could ever want. There’s time to explore every feeling and desire, time for them to become themselves, without the pressure of the world around them.

They part. Somehow, Castiel’s hands have found their way onto Dean’s waist. One of his thumbs is braver than the rest of his whole body, as it sneaks underneath Dean’s shirt to touch bare skin. Dean grins at him.

“Hey, Cas,” he asks, pressing his forehead to Castiel’s. “Do you want to take a drive?”

Their fingers entwine as they walk towards the Impala. Castiel’s chest feels light, like Dean’s hand is the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground. “I’m still trying to figure out the roads here. It felt like I was driving around for forty years to try and find you.”

They settle into the Impala, where they’ve been so many times before, but now Castiel can enjoy every squeak of the leather seats. He can revel in the imperfections of the car because of the perfection that’s next to him. Dean Winchester reaches across the seat and takes his hand, as easy as breathing.

“I can’t wait to show Sam everything,” Dean says, as he guides the Impala back onto a road which Castiel is almost certain wasn’t there when he arrived. “I, uh...Hope it takes him a while to get here. But. Yeah, when he gets here, I can’t wait to show him everything.”

“We’ll see it all together,” Castiel finally says. It’s all he can say, his heart too busy dancing in his chest.

They have all the time they want.

---

Time slips and passes and stops. In between his time with Dean, Jack, and the rest of the residents of Heaven, and performing maintenance throughout Heaven, Castiel watches the earth. He sees those left behind grow older. Claire and Kaia start a family, Claire finally having set aside the kernel of anger in her heart. Castiel watches Sam and Eileen’s family grow, smiling when Sam finally goes back to law school and gets his degree. He spends the rest of his career fighting for justice for children lost in the system, those who can’t fight for themselves. Saving people, hunting things, indeed.

Several times, Castiel thinks about going to visit Sam, if only to assuage the grief he can still see the man carrying, but each time he stops. It hurts, but grief is a facet of life. This grief is natural. It comes honestly. It’s not manipulated by a sadistic higher being for a voyeristic pleasure.

Eileen comes out to the Impala and brings Sam back into the house with gentle touches. Throughout the years, she’s learned how to navigate Sam’s moods, and knows how to bring him back. They lay in bed, foreheads pressed together, Eileen’s body curved into Sam’s.

“I just,” Sam begins, twisting slightly so Eileen can read his lips, “I just miss him so much sometimes.”

“I know,” Eileen answers. It’s all she needs to say.

After a while, Sam gently wraps his fingers around Eileen’s wrist, partly for comfort, partly to grab her attention. “Dean’s baseball game is next weekend. Do we know yet if it’s going to conflict with Beth’s dance rehearsal?”

“It shouldn’t,” Eileen answers, and with that, the normal routine of their life is reestablished. The grief is always present, but it’s part of the human condition.

Castiel turns his eyes back to Heaven, where Dean waits for him. Despite it being Heaven, he insists on making repairs to Bobby’s house as well as the Roadhouse, even when Castiel reminds him, for the hundredth time, that if he truly wanted to, he could fix these imperfections with a thought.

“Sometimes, you just have to do things the hard way,” he answers, through a mouthful of nails.

Castiel rolls his eyes and goes to help him.

---

The morning dawns, quiet and gentle. The dawn is silvery-gold as it stretches across the grass leading up to the cabin. In the distance, the birds start singing. Castiel can smell the fresh scents of spring, dew clinging to the grass, the clean, bright potential in the air. His toes stick out from underneath the comforter, but a quick flip of his foot flicks the corner of the blanket back into place.

A warm, heavy arm winds over his waist. “Babe, it’s too early,” Dean mumbles into the nape of his neck. “Go back to sleep.”

Castiel strokes over the back of Dean’s hand. The words are tempting, but something has woken him up, and now that it has, he wants to know what it is. He props himself up on his elbows, ignoring the chill of the air as it bites at his bare skin, and concentrates. After a second, he startles.

“Dean,” he says.

Though he doesn’t put urgency or fear into his voice, something about his tone makes Dean open his eyes, suddenly alert. Castiel looks at him, and Dean rolls over onto his side. After their time together, they’ve mastered the art of the wordless conversation, much to the chagrin of Charlie, Kevin, and anyone within ten miles of them, at least according to Jo.

“It’s time?” Dean asks. He rolls closer to Castiel, stealing his warmth, as he trails his fingers over Castiel’s ribs.

“Yes,” Castiel answers, taking Dean’s hand in his and pressing kisses to each of Dean’s fingertips. “Won’t be long now.”

Dean’s fingers slide across his cheek before he curls his fingers around the bolt of Castiel’s jaw, pulling him down. Their lips meet in a chaste kiss which still manages to make fireworks explode in the pit of Castiel’s belly. He doesn’t think the thrill of kissing Dean will ever fade. Castiel doesn’t want it to.

“I should get going,” Dean murmurs, rubbing against the bristles on Castiel’s cheek. “You want to come along?”

Castiel relaxes back into the mattress, only reluctantly parting from Dean. “No, you go. I’ll be here when you get back.”

“I know.” Dean slides out of bed, and Castiel takes a moment to appreciate the play of his muscles underneath fair skin. He lets out a small, disappointed noise when Dean slides into a pair of jeans and a jacket, causing Dean to roll his eyes at him over his shoulders. “Yeah, keep it in your pants. Definitely wearing clothes to this particular meeting.”

“Shame,” Castiel murmurs, waggling his eyebrows.

“Shameless,” Dean corrects, leaning over the mattress to kiss Castiel once more, short and sweet. “We’ll be back before too long.” Another kiss to Castiel’s forehead, and then Dean murmurs, “I love you,” into his hair.

Castiel smiles. Much like kissing Dean, hearing those words will never grow old to him. He’ll revel in them, roll in the simple syllables, allow them to sink into him, with the simple truth that Jack tells him, that Charlie tells him, that Kelly tells him, that even Bobby and Ellen and Jo tell him.

You are valued. You are loved.

He smiles at Dean Winchester, this impossible, miracle of a man. “I love you too,” he replies.

Dean out of the bedroom. The door to the cabin opens and closes. Castiel rolls over onto his back and stretches, staring up at the ceiling.

There’s work to be done today. He’ll need to travel through Heaven, informing the various interested parties that Sam Winchester has arrived. There will be a party tonight at the Roadhouse, a celebration instead of mourning. Then he and Dean will get to show Sam their Heaven, will listen to Sam relate through his years.

There is so much work to do.

But they have time. They have all the time they need.

---

“Life never ends when you are in it.”--Lemony Snicket, The Beatrice Letters

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dangerousstrawberryshark · 3 years

Text

Random Thoughts: A Dark Past

This came into mind; the Male reader is a prisoner of war and is taken back to the mainland. As usual, me and @softboy5393 fanboying over this.

I went overboard with this.

You were taken by a Titan with a long face, like a horse into its mouth. You fell unconscious during the whole time.

When you woke, you were in some room. You looked around to see where you were, you noticed you had a red armband on your left arm. 'What the... where am I?'

Then the door opened. "Ah, I see you're awake." the unknown person said along with others. He had blonde hair and an undercut style which was pushed back. [This] He also had an armband on, but his was more of a lighter red.

You took the people that walked and noticed that Reiner was there. "YOU DAMN TRAITOR!" you attacked him. You didn't do that much damage before getting pulled off of him.

"WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS! DON'T TOUCH ME!" you yelled trying to get away from them.

"So, you're the guy that Pieck took? You island devils are sure are something." The one with blonde hair said, sitting down. Reiner was dusting himself off.

"I guess we should introduce ourselves? I'm Pieck. You already know Reiner. The one with glasses is Zeke and the one next to you is Porco." The girl- Pieck said. She had long, disheveled shoulder-length black hair, a Greek nose, and relaxed dark brown eyes.

"You probably have questions as to where you are?" you calmed down a bit to respond.

"Yes. And why am I here? Why did you take me from my home?" you said, backing away from them.

"You're in the nation of Marley. And it was Reiner's idea to take you."

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

It had been 4 years since you were captured. You've kind of gotten used to the new environment. 'So, humanity didn't die after all?'

You were shocked by the outside world. There were these flying ships in the skies, a cart that was driving without horses leading it. The food you have never seen before. A picture that was too detailed for any person to draw.

"That's a blimp, that's a car, and that's a photograph," Zeke said, showing you everything.

You also got to meet others. "That's Gabi, Falco, Sophia, and Udo. They are the next in line to inherit the Titans."

Gabi looked at you with mistrust. She had hatred in her eyes. "Don't mind her, she hates anyone from the 'Island of Devils.'" Zeke whispered into your ear.

It has taken a while for Gabi to get used to you but in due time.

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

You were walking with Pieck, Reiner, and Porco in the Liberio Internment Zone. There were stands everywhere and colorful decorations everywhere. You were amazed.

"Today's the festival, M/n. Ambassadors and famous families from all over the world are going to be here for Willy's speech. Of course, since you're with us, you'll be joining too." Pieck said she was your favorite out of all of them.

"Let's go try some things. Try this." she gave you some kind of dessert with a cone?

You gave it one lick... "WHY IS IT SO COLD?!?!" you said, others were looking at you weirdly.

"What's this?" You picked some triangle-shaped food with toppings and cheese? "Mmm, this is good! I never had anything like it!"

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

You had a fun time at the festival but now it was time for Willy Tybur's speech. You sat with the others but Porco, Pieck, and Zeke were requested.

Then the sounds of instruments began to play and Willy came on stage. He bowed before starting. "Allow me to tell you a story."

(This is the entirety of Willy's speech)

"Approximately one hundred years ago, the Eldian race ruled the world with the power of the Titans."

"Between the appearance of the Founder, Ymir, and the present day, Titans have stolen the lives of so many people that the present population of the world..." showed Titans eating people. "Could die thrice over and still not compare."

Then the lights turned red, people appeared covered in blood and screaming. "Because of Titans, and an extraordinary number of races, and the cultures ad histories thereof, have been stolen from the world."

"That slaughter has defined human history and the history of the Eldian Empire. And when the Eldian Empire ran out of enemies, it turned to the killings of its own kind."

You were shocked. Was this the history of your ancestors? Were they like this?

"Thus began the Great Titan War."

"Houses holding eight Titans shed blood in combat among themselves. In these desperate times, one Marleyan saw a path to victory. He was our hero, Helos."

"By artfully waging an information war, he led the Eldian Empire's biggest threats to turn against and kill one another. By joining hands with the Tybur family, they forced the unbeatable King Fritz to flee and retreat to Paradis island." the crowd began to clap. You were awestruck.

"But even exiled to the island, the king still held power. Tens of millions of Titans are capable of crushing the world flat still slumber on that island." the crowd gasps at the revelation and fear.

"The fact that our world still exists undisturbed to this day is pure luck. That is the only explanation our Titan experts could muster up. My fatherland, Marley, decided to take the initiative against the island and sent four Titans to neutralize the threat, but that plan failed and only the Armored Titan returned."

'That's why Reiner broke down the walls.'

"In other words, the Eldian Empire, the scrounge of human history, is alive and well."

"Now, the story up to this point consists of facts known to everyone. The truth, however, differs slightly. From here on, I'll discuss the memories passed down in my family alongside the Warhammer Titan."

"The complete truth will be revealed here and now for the first time. Approximately one hundred years ago, the one who ended the Great Titan War was neither Helos nor the Tybur family." Two people standing side by side to him.

One was represented Helos and the other, the Tybur family.

"The man who brought an end to that war and saved the world was King Fritz. He came to regret the Eldian Empire's savage history and the infighting among his own people."

"Above all, he grieved for the Marleyans and the oppression they lived under. When he inherited the Founding Titan, he and the Tybur family devised a plan." The lights turned blue with King Fritz and the Tybur family shaking hands in agreement.

"To establish a single Marleyan as a hero in the war. His name: Helos. After that, King Fritz moved as many Eldians to Paradis as he could. Erecting the great walls around them."

"He left a warning if anyone threatens his peace, countless Titans would be unleashed in retaliation. However, he never intended make good on this threat." Things began to add up to you. That's why the world hates Eldians. 'I'm not what they say we are!'

He continued. "King Fritz made a vow of renouncing war and bound his successors to uphold it, just as he had. Thus his ideology was passed down to each new King of the walls and the Titans with the power to crush the world remain dormant."

"Marley didn't stop Eldia and pure luck hasn't kept the world from being crushed, it was the king of the walls, Karl Fritz, a man who yearned for peace. That's it. That's all he wanted. He said if Marley grew strong someday and came in force to shatter his peace and seize the Founding Titan, he would accept it."

"He believed the sins his people committed were so horrific that they could never be atoned for."

"When the day of retribution finally comes, I will accept it until then let me enjoy this walled paradise, free from strife and conflict. I ask for nothing but a brief span of peace."

"Those were the final words the king left us with." King Fritz stood next to Willy bowing.

The crowd erupted into chatter. "What does this mean?" Gabi was shocked to along with her friends. You were twice as shocked as they were.

"If what he saying is true..."

"So, Marley and the Tybur family didn't save the world?"

"Willy wouldn't lie..."

"That means Paradis doesn't actually pose a threat, right?"

Willy spoked, the crowd went silent. "It's true, to secure our own safety, my family joined hands with King Fritz and became heroes to the world. While our fellow Eldians became devils but plainly, we Tyburs are petty thieves, growing fat on honor we did not earn."

"I stand before you willingly parting with my false glory because I have come to understand that the world we share is in grave danger" the crowd began to chat again. The drums began to ring.

"With the Founder's might, King Fritz erected three walls, using a great host of colossal Titans..." the background changed to colossal titans conjoining arms. "Counted together, the walls surely contains tens of millions of colossal Titans."

"They guard the King's peace as his shield and his spear or they did, but now, that peace is being threatened from within. An uprising has taken place on Paradis, the king has been deposed, the Founding Titan stolen."

The background changed to a devil. "The thief is an enemy to every man, woman, and child outside his island. An enemy of peace, his name... IS EREN JAEGER." Your eyes widen...

"If the colossal of Paradis are ordered to walk, the rumbling will be felt across the Earth and death will follow. Until now, only royalty has had the power to wield the Founding Titan and King Fritz's vow has kept his descendants from using it, but this Eren Jaeger has found a way to use the founder without having royal blood."

"Which means he could begin the rumbling at any moment. Once the walls of Paradis begin to walk, there will be nothing we can do. Except flee in vain from the sound of Earth-shaking steps that will herald our doom." your face turned into a worried one. Was this going to happen?

"These monsters will crush every city, trample every tree and flower, they will literally flatten our world. I have always hated my blood and more than anyone. I have wished that my race would disappear."

Willy sounded like he gonna burst into tears. " However, I confess that I want to live. That despite everything, I believed this world is my birthright just as it is yours."

"The people gathered here may belong to different races, different nations but if we're to survive this crisis then for the first time in history, we must join as one. SO PLEASE, if you wish to live and lend me your strength, help me protect our world's future!" The cameras began to flash. The crowd erupted into cheering.

"If we work together, we can overcome any obstacle, any threat! I ask each of you to join me as I go to fight the devils who would plunge our world into hell! HELP ME DEFEAT THEM!"

The crowd continued to clap and cheer. "Here and now, as a representative of Marley's government, I send this message to the devils of Paradis!"

"CONSIDER THIS, A DECLARATION OF WAR!" As Willy said that, a Titan erupted from the building behind the stage. A Titan you knew very well.

"Eren..."

#x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #male reader imagine #attack on titan #aot #random thought #attack on titan x male reader #aot x male reader #attack on titan fandom #attack on titan thought

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deadinside-butstill-horny · 3 years

Text

The Night We Met

Part One - The Night We Met

Pairing: Javier Peña/ Female Murphy!Reader

Words: 5.3k

Summary: Murphy's sister travels to Colombia after realising Steve might not quite be A-Okay and meets the Javier Peña.

Content Warnings: 18+ Smut-ish (I wouldn’t wanna read it out to my mom), dry humping, dirty talk in Spanish which reader doesn’t understand so does it really count?, gratuitous love of the black shirt from the torture scene.

AO3

MASTERLIST

Author Note: So here is my return to writing! The word count got away from me but I loved every second of it. Always after prompts, so drop me a message on here if you'd like to see anything in particular. If it's in my wheelhouse, you'll definitely see it.

Pedro in the black shirt in this scene is what inspired me to write this, I can’t lie.

If you were brutally honest with yourself, this spur of the moment decision may have been a mistake.

Other people could make these choices and not have that nagging feeling in their gut from the second they booked their fuckin' airline ticket. You had attempted to grab life by its metaphorical horns and go and sort this shit show out by yourself, but after your momentarial bravery was used up, all that was left was a crippling anxiety that threatened to send you into a full scale panic attack if you thought too hard about the fact you were following your big brother to Colombia.

Yes, Colombia. You, a U.S. national with no particular interest in hunting Pablo Escobar, had decided to vacation in sunny, crime ridden Bogotá on a whim.

You were fuckin’ dumb.

Sarcasm aside, you weren’t actually here on vacation, you were going to check on Stevie. Your brother, one of the DEA agents assigned with taking down Escobar.

You’d been worried about him for a few months, it had sounded like he was dealing with heavy shit in South America, you knew that was the job, but he was still your brother.

His calls had gotten less and less frequent until he stopped returning them all together and the only reason you knew he was alive were your pep-talks with your sister-in-law, trying to help her keep her shit together, but hell, you weren’t a therapist or a miracle worker. So when Connie rang asking to stay at your place you had obliged and she had returned to Miami a mere shell of her former self.

After a mammoth amount of prodding over the course of two days you managed to wring the truth out of her, not the nuggets of information she had given you over the phone in hushed whispers during her time in Colombia but the whole messy story; the communist Elisa Alvarez, Steve’s kidnapping and the cold edges your brother was developing.

It was all you could do not to book the tickets there and then, but you held out and supported Connie in the ways Steve couldn't have, taking care of Olivia when you could and just trying your hardest to be there for her. Your presence alone seemed to be enough to help her through the days that followed. A week and a half after her return, you booked your flight to Colombia in secret.

You had to check on Steve.

He hadn’t answered a single one of your many many calls. You packed light and told Connie the morning of, and whilst she didn’t like it, she understood. You supposed that a part of her was relieved to know her husband would have someone in Colombia that wasn't there to kill him.

So here you sat, two hours into your flight to the paradise destination; Bogotá. Your brother's address scrawled on a scrap piece of paper in the one hand and a glass of cheap whiskey in the other. The alcohol did little to to calm your nerves, this was a dangerous place for a cop, let alone a fuckin’ clueless civilian.

When the plane finally touched down, you stood from your seat emptying the last few drops of whiskey which had tried to evade you onto your tongue, you picked up your backpack and queued to leave the plane.

The second you left the aircraft the humidity hit you like a brick wall, it was like all of the fresh air had been sucked out of the atmosphere. On a normal evening you would appreciate such a warm climate, but now the heat meant frustration to your tired brain and it only added to your baseline levels of anxiety as your hairline and upper lip were drenched as you walked through the arrivals gate.

Cards on the table; you didn’t have much of a game plan, you spoke no Spanish and stuck out like a sore thumb. You had the address but no means to get there, you didn’t relish the idea of getting in a taxi as a woman alone in a foreign country, but with little to no other options you went to hail one of the cabs that sat outside the airport.

Your fears turned out to be for naught, well not quite naught as the man had raked his eyes across your body for a large percentage of the trip in his mirror, but he had the good grace not to kidnap or murder you, which for you meant it was a successful journey, how low you had set the bar was just occuring to you.

After paying the gentleman he dropped you outside what appeared to Steve’s apartment building. You take a moment on the pavement to recollect yourself ready for your reunion. Peeling your denim jacket off, you decide instead to wrap it around your waist, tying the sleeves securely. With a harumph, you grab the handle of your suitcase, and drag it behind you. Your success thus far gives you a second wind of determination.

Though apparently dumb luck can only get you so far, because after heaving your suitcase up a flight of stairs and rapping on the door of apartment 20 until your knuckles ached, it began to dawn on you, you had no clue if this was even the right building.

“Fuck.” you mutter to yourself, you should’ve rang Connie or tried Steve again when you landed, but you’d been so single minded in carrying out your plan all common sense had apparently abandoned you. So with a million different scenarios of things you could’ve done better playing out behind your eyes you dragged your suitcase to the small lobby of the building, where the front door stood.

You huffed and dropped onto the bottom step in surrender, not quite sure where to go from here.

Weeks of anxiety and worry finally took their toll on your body as reality set in, and as it did so you couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer stupidity of the situation you’d put yourself in. A light chuckle escaped your body as you held your face in your hands,you rubbed at your eyes as a way of refreshing yourself before sighing and leaning back.

You must have sat with your head in your hands for around three hours before anyone of note arrived, you had received strange looks from residents in their comings and goings as they stepped around you, your expectant looks turned to disappointment when you realised they weren’t Steve. In fairness, you, a gringa sitting on the stairs at 2am, most likely wasn’t a daily occurrence to these homeowners.

By the time he came through the door, your eyes were closed and your head was leant on the bannister, trying to get what little rest you could. Your eyes opened a crack to see a man and a woman enter the building and turn right, the man had his arm around her as he stared at you in confusion, the look was so quick you may have missed it if you blinked, but they were talking in low whispers of Spanish and from the looks of things he didn’t give you a second thought.

So you extended him the same courtesy and shut your eyes once again, you heard the metal jangling of keys going into the lock, the sound of smacking lips and then the door was closed. You figured that was the end of it, instead you heard hurried footsteps coming towards you, your eyes shot open as he rounded the corner.

“Estás bien?” The man questioned. It took you a moment to realise he was talking to you, as you took him in you were struck by your stupidity, how could you have dismissed this man so quickly even in the throes of a mental breakdown. His chocolate brown eyes bore into your own as you realised he was waiting for a response.

“Uh… no hablo... español?” you pretty much asked him, cringing internally at your butchering of the most basic sentence of this gorgeous strangers language, his lips quirked at your mumbles making his mustache raise on one side with his smirk. Now, you’d never been a fan of a mustache, Steve and your father had both taken to styling their facial hair in such a way, and as a rule of thumb they were a big no-no. But my god. This man made that mustache his bitch and that bitch worked for him.

“You’re American?” He questions, smirk dropping along with his eyebrows in confusion as his brain processes the information.

“Oh thank god and Jesus fuckin’ christ above. You’re American!” Your timid nature had given way to pure unadulterated relief. “Stevie, Steve Murphy, he lives in this building, yeah?”

“Yeah… Stevi...Steve lives here- I’m sorry, who the hell are you?” He asks with a puzzled look and a shake of his head, there’s an air of distrust about him for some strange reason.

“I’m Y/N Murphy, I’m his sister.”

“Sister? Mierda... does he know you’re here?”

“Nope,” You pop your P as you shrug at the man before you with false nonchalance. “He’d have to answer the phone to me or Connie to know that now, wouldn’t he?”

“Steve.” The stranger sighed, annoyed.

“Sorry, who are you?” You asked, yourself becoming more bemused by the man by the second.

“I’m Steve’s partner, Javier.” He held out his hand which you were more than happy to take in a shake, his tan hand was soft yet strong as it held your own captive within it. “C’mon in I’ll give him a call, God knows what time he’s planning on getting back.”

“Uh, I don’t want to interrupt…” You mumble, waving your free hand vaguely towards where you knew the woman was waiting for him, making him smirk once again.

You were beginning to think that the sarcastic raise of his mouth was just his default resting face.

“You’re not interrupting anything.”

Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘cause I’d think it to. This is how people die in America, let alone fuckin’ Colombia, but if it's a choice between dying at the hands of a gorgeous man who seems to know your brother or a stray that wonders in through the non-descript lobby door then you’d rather go out with a nice view, even if he did have a girlfriend.

If you had to gamble, you’d say you had a damn good chance of making it out of this apartment alive.

So you nodded and used the hand he hadn’t released yet to pull yourself up into a standing position. He wasn’t particularly tall but he still towered over you, your eyeline gave you a great view past his black shirt which was unbuttoned quite liberally, you assumed that was courtesy of the woman he’d entered with.

“Thank you,” you nodded at him with a genuine smile of relief. He didn’t reply, only grabbed the handle of your pull along suitcase before extending his arm towards his apartment and motioning to wordlessly say, after you.

Now you know how people say when you can feel a stare? You had the sensation before, but as you leaned over to pick up your backpack from the bottom step, you felt his eyes laser focus on your denim clad ass. You turned your head in disbelief and found his eyes still lingered there for a moment before meeting your own. Unbelievable. Part of you was flattered, the other part was bemused that he had a beautiful woman in there waiting and here he was ogling you.

You rolled your eyes, instilled with a new confidence as you turned and walked towards his apartment, you felt his eyes follow your form once more.

Steve’s hot partner was an ass man... Good to know.

...

As it turns out Javier’s girlfriend, or what you we’re starting to think was more of a one night stand, was not happy with the situation at all, you came to this discovery as Javier pointed you to the sofa before beginning arguing with her in hushed Spanish, the beautiful woman huffed and sent a dirty look your way before storming out and slamming the door behind her, with enough power to make it shake in its bearings. You raised your eyebrows at Javier from your seat. He shook his head with a sigh and began lighting up a cigarette, he turned and offered you one.

“No thanks, I quit.”

“Woman with an iron will?”

“Not quite,” You whisper, shaking your head.

He smiles before clearing his throat and moving over to pick up his landline. Javier presses a combination of buttons, before putting it to his ear and blowing the smoke from his lungs. His eyes met yours as the phone rang, he gave you reassuring wink.

“Murphy? … Yeah… you need to get back to your place now... You’ve got a guest.... No … come find out why don’t you?” Sarcasm dripped from his lazy tone, his voice was so smooth. It was like chocolate on gravel, you could listen to him talk for hours, which led your mind down that deep dark hole of what he sounded like during more carnal acts, he’d be a talker, for definite, what with all that confidence and swagger. “‘Kay… I’ll see you soon.”

Shaking your head you centred yourself, it had been a dry patch for you. You needed to calm down and not throw yourself at your brother's partner, even if he just so happened to be the first man you had any interest in to show you attention in months.

“He’s on his way,” He confirmed what you already knew but you liked hearing him speak so you nodded in thanks. An awkward silence filled the air for a few moments, as you two perfect strangers shared one another's company.

“Drink?” He offered pointing at the bottle of whiskey on the counter.

“God, yes.” You all but moaned at the offer. Javier chuckled, and grabbed a second glass from his cupboard, before pouring you both a generous serving. He walked around the back of the sofa, and passed you the glass of liquid gold and took a seat next to you. Close enough to initiate something, but not touching, quite a respectful distance.

Initiate something? God Y/N, get your mind out of the gutter. This poor man had only invited you in because you were his partner's sister and he was doing the decent thing.

“Uh… The television work?” You ask, pointing at the empty screen.

“I didn’t realise you could speak Spanish…” His voice was dripping with false surprise, mocking your earlier attempts at the language, though he reached across and switched the box on with the remote, he began flicking through the channels so quickly he almost gave you a headache.

“Oh yes, I’m very proficient, I just didn’t want to intimidate you earlier. Hola Señor Javier.” You say continuing his ruse. He chuckles at your words, it's a deep warm noise that shakes his entire frame. You were definitely thinking about adding Javier’s voice to your top ten list of favourite sounds.

He flicks through the channels, for a few seconds before sighing and dropping the remote in your lap. Taking your assignment seriously, you sit up, bringing yourself a few inches closer to the man next to you, purely accidentally of course and begin flicking through the channels as Javier had done moments before, though 3am TV scheduling left a lot to be desired.

News, News, Colombian QVC, News, News, Soap opera. Bingo!

“Ah, now we’re talking.” You mumble, eyes stuck on the screen of the Colombian Soap opera playing. The two of you sat in silence once again as you slowly sipped on your drinks watching drama play out.

You watched in silence for around ten minutes, not understanding a single word of what was being said. The scene was on two latino actors sitting in a bedroom. The woman was sat on the bed being confronted by the man in a serious tone.

“What is she saying?” You question narrowing your eyes at the beautiful woman's tone. Javier, who had been watching your reactions the whole time as you got into the awful tv show scrambled as he tried to listen and translate the woman's words.

“Uh… her dads an alcoholic and she’s trying to support her son… that guy didn’t know about the son... I think… she was happy living a double life without the worry and she wants him to forgive her and start over…” Javier translated, giving you the general cliff notes.

“Oh shit,” You gasped at his words, but your attention diverted to the screen where the two had continued their heated argument and began kissing or rather where the man was devouring her neck, “I’m getting vibes that he might be open to forgiving her.”

You chuckled at your own joke, as did Javier. Though this time when his body shook his bare elbow touched your own.

How was he so goddamn warm?

All he was wearing was a black button down shirt. One that looked to be the wrong size it was so tightly fitted- not that you were complaining about the view. My God, were you horny today.

You took a gulp of your drink, trying to refocus for the third or fourth time this evening, trying so desperately to reign in your inner school girl and focus on the television, though that didn’t help as the actors were now eating one anothers faces on a bed. The silence was thick with tension, though that could’ve been entirely on you; one innocent touch of a man's elbow and you’re a blushing mess.

Get a grip Y/N.

The silence dragged on as you pretended to watch the soap opera you had absolutely no understanding of in a futile attempt to ignore the man next to you. You can only imagine what he thought of your levels of focus on the tv, as you stared at the box in the corner of the room like it was the greatest cinematic masterpiece of all time and you were getting ready to write a full-scale analysis on the work of art.

Javier broke the tension in the room by finally asking the question that had been on his lips all evening.

“You came all the way to Colombia... Why?” Javier grabbed a cigarette off of the coffee table, placing his drink where the carton of smokes had been. He lit the stick and waited for your response, honestly, you were thrown. The question had come out of nowhere whilst you were still trying to analyse why exactly this man had such an effect on you when he was doing nothing but being a good host. You hastened to think up a half coherent reply before you just answered truthfully.

“Steve stopped answering the phone, I mean he’s always been shitty at checking in, even when he was in Miami. When he got here we’d have a catch up every week or so, we all know how dangerous it is for you guys over here, so we joked about calling it ‘the alive check’. For the last couple of months, I was checking in with Connie more than Steve but he’d still pick up once every week, without fail. Then four weeks ago the fucker stopped answering my calls all together and Connie showed up on my doorstep with Olivia in tow last week.”

“Look, you coming down here probably makes more problems than it solves, Steve’s a big boy if he doesn’t call to check in, it's probably ‘cause he’s busy... He’s-” Something about Javier’s dismissive tone rubbed you the wrong way, call it sleep deprivation or blame the weeks of stress, but you were tired of being called paranoid. You were not an overbearing mother hen.

“My brother always answers my calls. Or at least he used to. I can’t begin to understand what you guys are going through, but I’m not losing my brother to some piece of shit Colombian drug dealer.”

Javier raised his hands in mock surrender, cigarette still in mouth. “He’s actually more of a drug lord slash narcoterrorist, but-”

“How is he?” You interrupt Javier’s attempt at diffusing the situation with humor, turning to him on the sofa. You rearranged yourself, bringing your leg up so your knee touched his thigh as you gave him your full attention, you plucked the smoke from between his lips and held it between your two fingers as you spoke. “Tell me Steve’s fine. Tell me I’m worrying for nothing and I’ll get back on that plane and leave tomorrow morning."

You take one drag and offer it back to him, he accepts it, deliberately looking you in the eyes as he places the cigarette in his mouth, attaching his lips to where your own had been seconds earlier. He takes it from his mouth and stubs it on an ash tray that rests on the arm of the sofa, his focus is single minded on his task. The pressure in your lower stomach is mounting as you stare at the tanned man before you who is carrying out a menial task that has you more turned on than you’d ever admit.

When the red tip is extinguished thoroughly, taking much longer than you thought it needed to, Javi turns to you, his mahogany eyes have you pinned in your tracks. You found yourself admitting they were gorgeous for the second time this evening, they were the type of brown you could never quite describe, they had so much depth, not quite a chocolate, not quite coffee, they were rich and deep pools. They reminded you of the forest, not the green leaves but the earthy brown, the strong beams of wood that held everything up around it.

Javier's hand emigrated forward slowly, your eyes followed the movement in your peripheral but you didn’t dare look away from the pools of molasses as he reached to grip one hand at your denim thigh, his eyes roamed your face for any sign of this being an unwelcome approach and when he found none his other hand began its climb to rest on your jaw, just below your ear.

You couldn’t say if you moved towards him or if he advanced on you, all you knew was he was on you now as the tips of your noses rubbed against one another.

“Quiero saborearte…” He whispered so lowly you barely even heard it before he leaned in that last inch and captured your lips in a single, chaste kiss. Your lips connected and you realised the heat you had felt from his arms had been nothing. Fire coursed through your veins upon contact, surging through your blood and going south to a pressure that built in your lower stomach.

Your hand shot up to land on his collarbone, before you could even really consider your own actions you pulled apart until your foreheads were the only thing touching. He was intoxicating, you could lose yourself completely in this man, he somehow smelt like cinnamon, whiskey and sweat, a combination you’d never thought would send liquid fire through your central nervous system. You’d give anything to taste him properly, but this was wrong. So so wrong. This was your brother's partner, this was inviting complication to your door, when you were just here to check on Steve. You were here for Steve.

You were here for Steve...

“... This isn’t a good idea.” You all but whisper, closing your eyes. Regret pulses through your veins at your self imposed restraint.

“Never is.” He leaned forward and captured your lips. You didn’t have any fight left in you, exhausted and at wits end you embraced your spiral into stupidity instead and your hands glided across the clammy skin of his neck to grab at his short ink black hair. You wrapped your fingers around it to drag him closer to you, your lips clashed, all teeth at first but you didn’t care as his tongue began to fight against yours for dominance.

He tasted as good as you imagined, he was the right combination of sweet and bitter, with undertones of whiskey and tobacco on his tongue. Your response to his assault on your mouth told him it was go time, Javier pulled you into his lap and his hands lowered to your ass. Your body was flush with his own as your breasts pressed against his chest, you could feel every solid line of his lithe body against your own.

You licked at his honied tongue, before withdrawing and pulling his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking on the soft plush skin. His mustache tickled your upper lip, a sensation you weren’t used to but could so easily grow to love. This made him tighten his grip on your backside in response and he let out a throaty groan at the meat he found there, Javier was definitely an ass man, you felt his bulge pressing against your core as you both began grinding against each other in earnest. You felt like a horny teenager as you grinded on a man you barely knew.

You felt him grip at the bottom of your tank top and begin to lift it, except he stopped, and began to rub patterns on the stomach he exposed. Javier’s mouth descended from your lips to begin to suck and lick at your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his work as pleasure rippled throught your body. His hands slid the length of your body to grab at your chest, which conforming to every stereotype was heaving, he palmed your breast blindly as his face was still buried in your hair, sucking and kissing along to your ear, before he raised his mouth a mere inch and whispered “Te follaré toda la noche niña.”

He said it with such surety that your body convulsed in on itself without even needing to know what the man above you was saying. You could only hope it was absolutely filthy and profanity ridden, because then at least, the sentiment would be shared. He bit at the lobe of your ear before his hands left your breasts and travelled to the hem of your tank top, getting ready to pull it over your head.

It was strange to say that you remembered your brother was on his way here as a man tried to take your t-shirt off, but that’s just the way it went. You knew if that top came off, dry humping would be the most PG action of the night and if Steve turned up and found you mounted on his partner, he probably wouldn’t be too thrilled.

You couldn’t stop yourself from stroking the man's hair whose face was planted in between your tits as his hips rose against your own pushing his hardened length up against the seams of your jeans, you gasped as he hit that sweet spot. You let out a noise that sounded like a wail. You wanted nothing more than to lie back and let this man have his filthy way with your body. And you know, from the hour you’ve spent with this man it would be phenomenally filthy. The kind of sex that would ruin all men for you, but no. You had to be a good sister. Like a fuckin loser.

Sighing, you threw your body sideways before you could change your mind and ended up on your back. Javier followed you, caging you with his frame as he covered your body with his own. Gripping your face like he was a starving man and you were the only sustenance he’d ever need. It would be so easy to get lost in him, to give in to that magic tongue but you couldn’t let this go any further so you placed a hand on his chest.

Taking your cue he paused his tongues assault on your mouth and stopped, resting his forehead against your own. You were both breathing heavily trying to come back down to reality, his eyes were no longer the chocolate brown you’d been comforted by when you met, but rings of obsidian staring into your soul. You wanted this man, my god you did. But this would make more problems for Steve.

The two of you stayed that way for a while, foreheads and bodies pressed against one another until both of your breathing evened out. The silence dragged, heavy in the air as you two strangers both waited for the other to break it.

“...Is Steve okay?”

“...No... He’s been fuckin’ mess ever since Connie left.” Javier sighed whilst closing his eyes and breathing deep. You raised your hands from his chest, which was difficult as he was crushing his body to yours and cupped his cheek, you joined your lips once more, much like the first kiss. This was sweet and there wasn’t a carnal appetite behind it but rather an understanding.

The loud knock on the front door startles you both as you’d been so wrapped up in one another you’d not heard the steps leading to it. The two of you split apart like a pair of guilty teens caught in the act. You both stared at each other for a second before he nods at you and walks to the front door whilst rearranging his bulge discreetly in his jeans, this was something you pretended not to see as you sat back up right on the sofa. You had only a moment to fix yourself, as you pulled your tank top from where it was hooked by your breasts and ran your fingers through your hair so you didn’t look like you’ve just had the ravaging of a lifetime.

Javier pulled open the door and you clutch your hands into your lap, not quite sure what kind of reception you were about to receive from your brother. You hear the two men greet one another in hushed whispers, you couldn’t make out Steve's voice much until you hear his voice clear as day “...what the hell was so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

You stand from your spot on the sofa and quickly realise the button on your jeans is undone; if you’re honest you don’t even know how he managed to do that without you noticing, even though it's not the time you take a solitary second to commend Javier on his artistry of disrobing a woman. Turning quickly you pull the rivet back through the hole and swing around as Steve crosses the threshold from the hallway.

Steve looks from you, to Javier and then back to you once more in complete surprise. It takes his brain a hot second to process that you’re here in front of him and in Colombia before he rushes you. Clutching you tight and hugging you to his chest. You hear something that sounds suspiciously like a sob leave your brothers chest before he collapses into you. The front door and Javier’s bedroom both in rapid succession, giving you the privacy you knew your brother would need after breaking down like this.

You couldn’t support Steve’s weight with your considerably smaller frame and the two of you fell to the ground as you held your broken brother. His body shook with silent sobs as he buried his face in your shoulder.

You said nothing as you held him and stroked his hair. In that moment you thanked your every instinct that screamed at you to come to Colombia.

This had definitely not been a mistake.

Part Two

#javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #narcos fic #pedro pascal x reader #I LOVE THE BLACK FUCKING SHIRT #narcos fanfiction #javier peña #murphy!reader

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beccanoodles · 3 years

Text

Spike and Faye Pairing Analysis

March 2021

Ah the hit or miss pairing of the century! If you don’t love it, you probably hate it lol. I’m a very analytical person so I love analyzing works of art and overall enjoy deep discussions about them too. I have SO much to say when it comes to Cowboy Bebop (and oh I plan to), but I have decided to start with my very own OTP. Here, I am not really going to discuss Spike and Faye’s feelings for each other, but rather why I think people are drawn to this pairing and why I think they're totally valid. Get ready for a long read!😁

⚠️SPOILER WARNING!!! [Major Cowboy Bebop and the movie Out of the Past spoilers]⚠️

First off, let’s clear something up. I am confident most of us can agree that Spike was in love with Julia. Some people assume Spike and Faye fans are deranged and disregard Spike and Julia’s romantic relationship to try and make something of Spike and Faye that never was. While some people may have their various theories and opinions on this, generally, I don’t think anyone denies Spike’s love for Julia. As we will see, this pairing is not really driven by who loves who...let’s first look on the surface.

I don’t know your experiences with the series, but in mine, every time I show this to people it never fails for someone to say something along the lines of,

“Wait, they don’t end up together?”

“Why didn’t he kiss her!?”

“He should have stayed with her...”

and so fourth.

Naturally, this pairing catches many eyes.

Think about it, you are given two really cool, really hot and really deep characters that are really fun to see together! There are so many parallels between the two and they are arguably the strongest characters of the bunch. Granted, you can agree with this and still not ship them, but these aspects are part of what opens up the door for many fans of the pairing.

However, there is certainly more to this pairing than them simply looking good together right? As the years pass and I’ve now seen the show multiple times, my understanding of it has evolved in many areas, Spike and Faye included.

Spike and Faye really couldn’t have ended up together. Sure, it’s a nice thought, but It would have been an entirely different show if they had. I don’t feel that the show should have happened any other way and I don’t think many other fans would either.

So, what am I saying here?

What’s the point of this paring if I don’t think they should have ended up together?

It is what's so frustrating about them, yet keeps you coming back and what honestly validates this pairing in my opinion. Spike and Faye are not driven by what is, but rather, what could be.

I personally feel the themes of classic film Noir are not discussed enough when it comes to Cowboy Bebop! This is one of the show's major influences, especially when it comes to the plot and characters.

One of the common tropes of a film noir is that of a protagonist who is drawn back into his past and ultimate doom, usually by the “seduction” of a femme fatale. In these movies, the women are either a femme fatale [devious, dangerous, mysterious, greedy, troubled, or unreliable] or a woman of virtue [reliable, dutiful, trustworthy, conventional and loving].

I am going to use the 1947 classic, Out of the Past to make my comparisons from here on out.

In Out of the Past, Jeff is a former detective who gets caught up in a love triangle between a gangster and his girlfriend Kathie, sound familiar? He attempts to run away with her, but is betrayed and runs off to start a new life in a new town. Here, he meets Ann and falls in love with her, but of course, his past catches up to him and he is drawn back into the world of criminals (largely by Kathie’s involvement). This ultimately results in his and Kathie’s deaths and Ann’s heartbreak.

Even though Kathie is the femme fatale in this movie, I found myself comparing her more to Julia’s role in the show, than to Faye’s and I found that Faye actually fit best in Ann’s role (this is a bit unusual considering Faye is typically seen as the femme fatale of this show).

Does that mean I think Julia was as ill intentioned as Kathie or that Spike fell in love with Faye? Well, not exactly, let’s look at it a bit further.

“The kind of beautiful, dangerous ordinary that you just can’t leave alone...Like an angel from the underworld or a devil from paradise.”

Most of what we get about Julia is from Spike’s point of view. From this, we learn she is at the center of Vicious and Spike’s conflict, but aside from that she is basically depicted as “The Virtuous Woman” of a noir. The colors around her are warm and she is shown caring for Spike. There is an innocence and modestly about her as well.

Yet, when we finally do meet Julia, we get a different image. We know she is tied up with dangerous men, but is she herself a dangerous woman?

She is certainly capable of betrayal.

Suddenly she is a bad-ass-gun-toting woman in leather and black, surrounded by hues of grey and dark blue. Intentional or not, Julia is a major part of what lures Spike back into the past and ultimately to his death. In this case, Julia is the femme fatale of Spike’s story and thus, their relationship is doomed from the start.

Faye, on the other hand, is portrayed in somewhat of a contrast. When we first meet her, she is the clear cut femme fatale, appearing cunning, strong willed and seductive. However, we soon find that she has quite a bit of kindness and naivety hidden behind her facade. She uses the former tactics as a way of emotional (and probably physical) protection. Gren points this out in his conversation with her.

Gren,

“You’re just afraid they’d abandon you so you abandoned them. You distanced yourself from the whole thing.”

As the show progresses, we start to see less of her “femme fatale nature” and something more genuine. Think about it, between Hard Luck Woman and RFB Part 2 we don’t see much of Faye as her typical conniving or unreliable self, aside from changing the course of the Bebop maybe. Sure she takes off, but it isn’t at all for the same reasons she did in Jupiter Jazz or Speak Like a Child, for example.

I would argue we actually see her more trustworthy and caring than ever. Since I don’t want to spend too much time talking about Faye’s character development (not here at least) I’ll give one example of this.

When she returns to the Bebop after her encounter with Julia in RFB Part 1, she gives Spike the message, even though the outcome might hurt her (i.e. he leaves and/or dies). While she does first say “It’s gonna cost you,” she doesn’t really mean it because she tells him without hesitation only moments later.

This isn’t to say Faye good, Julia bad. Both women have their layers and even though we know way more about Faye, I don’t get the impression that Julia is selfish and cunning like Kathie was. But I do get the feeling she was enclosed in a world of crime and betrayal the way Kathie was. We really only know the basics of Spike and Julia’s situation. Who knows the details like motive or how long it lasted etc. etc. We can only speculate...

There is a scene towards the end of Out Of The Past, where Kathie tells Jeff to go away with her. This time it is her asking him, just like Julia asks Spike. During this she mentions,

“I never told you I was anything but what I am, you just wanted to imagine I was. That’s why I left you.”

This got me thinking...did Spike imagine Julia as something she wasn’t? Or something he wanted her to be that she just couldn’t be?

It could explain why we get such contrasted images of her.

There are themes of this “dreamlike” relationship between Jeff and Kathie, similar to Spike and Julia’s “It was all a dream.”

The two of them were going to “live and be free,” probably something neither of them knew how to do and most likely wouldn’t have been able to get away with.

When Jet asks Spike if he can just forget the past, this is his answer.

Spike,

“There was a woman. For the first time in my life I saw a woman that was truly alive. At least that’s what I thought. She was the part of me I had lost, that part that was missing, that I had been longing for.”

I always wondered about this, because Spike is clearly talking about Julia, but right after is when Faye shows up. To me, that spoke volumes...

Faye is a woman who is terribly human and terribly alive.

Going back to Faye and Ann, I find their similarities shine not so much in the “Virtuous Woman,” concept, but rather in Ann’s dedication to Jeff and her optimism for the future. She is also the last person to talk to Jeff before he leaves for the final time, as if he were being presented with one last alternative. Spike spends his last moments with Faye as well, in which she basically begs him not to go and keep him in the present that she has now discovered for herself. She may be stuck, but she is definitely someone that yearns for human connection, love, and life.

The problem is, Spike and Faye are both set in opposite directions. Her’s leads to a future and Spike knows this because he points it out early on (My Funny Valentine). He also knows, his most likely does not. He has already dug himself too deep into this hole, if you will, that there is really no turning back.

But let’s say none of that was an issue? What could be?

I sat and watched this movie (Out of the Past) with my mom. She didn’t know anything about it and didn’t know why I was watching it. I wanted her genuine reaction. The whole time she was getting mad at Jeff until the very end. I asked her why and she said that she wanted him to be able to live happily with Ann. I explained to her why he had to do what he did. She understood this, but still couldn’t help but be sad at how things turned out for him, when they could have been good.

Even though Kathie and Jeff are the “lovers,” of this movie, you don’t really want them to end up together. Forget that Kathie has a devious nature, regardless, you know where it has to end and you don’t want to see your hero die.

Like Kathie, Julia symbolizes Spike’s inevitable doom and Like Ann, Faye symbolizes his possible future.

“I’ll be with you till the end”

“You’re the one still tied to the past Spike!”

“Why do you have to go? Where are you going? What are you gonna do, just throw your life away like it was nothing?!”

It’s two sides of a sad coin...

We want Spike to have a future and because we love the characters of the show, it would be really great if he could have it with them, but that is where the tragedy is. It's only an idea we can think about, a possibility presented to us as it was to Jeff and Spike before their deaths.

The bottom line is, when it comes to Spike and Faye you are really only given a taste. You are not given what you expect to see, which is why I say this ship is driven by what could be. As it is with most of the character relationships in the show, no major breakthroughs are made until the very end, when it's too late. Then it just feels like such wasted potential, but sometimes in life, that's how it is. And thus, we have been given a very classic noir here ladies and gentlemen!

So no, I don’t think people miss the mark when they ship Spike and Faye, nor do I find they invalidate the show by any means. I kind of like that Watanabe switched it up and didn’t do the expected, but left us those subtle hints. He didn’t outright give Spike another lover, but he gave us someone that represents what he could have. Kind of does that with the crew as a whole too!

UGH. I love-hate this show and I love this pairing! Thank you for reading my thoughts and I know this may not be the case or reasoning for everyone, but just based on what I have seen around the community and where this show draws inspiration, this is what I have concluded. I didn’t get into Spike and Faye’s feelings for each other because it gets a little more theoretical there, but I would like to do a post on my thoughts on that as well sometime. I also didn’t touch too much on Spike’s reasoning for choosing to face Vicious in the end, just because I know that will only lead into a whole other analysis lol. But you know I have my thoughts on that and certainly plan to share them 😎 Also, I know I basically spoiled it, but Out of the Past is such a great movie!! I think if you’re a fan of this show it's definitely worth a watch! There are so many more parallels to Cowboy Bebop that I didn’t even mention. Anyways, thanks again and talk to you soon!

#Cowboy Bebop #Spike and Faye #spike x faye #analysis #cowboy bebop analysis #pairing analysis #pairing #my ship #out of the past #film noir #did i mention #I LOVE THIS SHOW #YES i've been working on this for two weeks like i was writing a midterm essay for school #DON'T JUDGE ME 🤓😂#OOTP is really good watch it #last scene gives me chills😨#spaye #faye x spike #faye and spike

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potassium-pilot · 3 years

Text

Prompt 27: Benthos

Why am I back here again, Dia thought.

There was no reason, really. It felt right to her. Whatever the others might say of this place, whatever horrors she experienced here, Amaurot fascinated her. She traversed the city and listened to them, to her people…or to the people that she once knew, at least.

Why would Emet-Selch allow them their opinions still? Why would he not want them all to simply agree with the course of action taken by the Convocation? Would it have not made him feel more justified to rewrite history? These were questions that plagued her when she thought of Amaurot.

“This place creeps me out, you know”, Ardbert commented.

“Noted. Now where do you think we should go next?”

“Ishgard, if you would.”

“Before that.”

“Urgh, I don’t understand you sometimes. Why can’t it be as simple as, ‘This place is creepy and dark and made by an Ascian; perhaps we should avoid it.’”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s more than that, and you know it. This was…our home once.”

“No, it’s a recreation of Azem’s home. It’s dead, Dia. Dead and gone.”

“I’m aware of that, thank you. I also watched the Final Days and we’re apparently due for a repeat. That doesn’t mean that a recreation can’t be found intriguing.”

“It can if you let it.”

She kept walking past Macarenses Angle. Azem’s crystal seemed to pulse as she walked in the same rhythm. She seemed to want something, to add her own voice.

“Azem, no more kissy-face with Emet-Selch, I’m begging you”, Dia whispered softly as she gripped the stone in her inventory. She bound for a nearby bench, and took a seat. The familiar pull of the past taking her away embraced her.

*********

“On that note, I would like to draw this meeting to a close.”

Emet-Selch’s voice rang across the assembly hall. The fourteen stood in respect before he dismissed them.

Azem dreamed of the day they would finally intervene, recognize that their duty to the world has always been plain. The circumstances which led them to this point, however, devastated her. Her fellow convocation members, her friends, her family- all of them were in danger. She needed to protect them, and although the matter was grave indeed, it was strangely refreshing for her to see the Convocation finally acknowledge the threat at their doorstep.

The solution was anything but.

A dark primal concept?! Azem thought, They want to kill half of Amaurot to save Amaurot?! Unacceptable! That won’t save anyone! The dark primals only want more power, more aether! Their dark primal won’t rest until it’s consumed everything whole. I saw it happen with the other primal concepts, bless Lahabrea’s heart; I will not see this primal of theirs consume everything I hold dear.

To that end, she marched to the office of Elidibus, and knocked on his door.

“Enter”, he called.

She opened the door and greeted him with a typical wave and smile. “Can we talk? Just you and me?”

“I’m a bit busy at the moment, but I can certainly find the time for you. What do you need, Azem?”

Azem stepped forward and took her seat. “That was…a more emotionally charged debate than I was prepared for”, she tried to calm herself with humor, and Elidibus gave a light laugh in return. “Indeed. I suppose the Final Days do bring out a different side of all of us. You paid attention in a meeting for once.”

“I know. I never thought it would come to this”, she joked before asking in a more serious tone, “But…are you okay?”

“I’m better than okay. I have a chance here, Azem. We have a chance. We can save Amaurot.”

“But…can we though?”

“Azem, we debated this for hours. Half of Amaurot is better than complete engulfment.”

She argued the point as firmly as she ever could have, which meant little compared to the masters of debate she encountered regularly. Primals demand much and more, and drain power and aether. Dark primals demand sacrifice, in particular. Unfortunately, she exhausted all arguments in the assembly hall. She had no rational argument left within her to turn them away from such an irrational solution.

“And we’ll use what’s left to bring them back.”

She had also argued that what these primals can bring back will be nothing more than husks; the amaurotines would be long gone.

Especially Elidibus.

“But why you?”

“What do you mean, Azem?”

“Elidibus, if you become the heart of this primal, that’s it. There’s no going back. You’ll be consumed whole, left with nothing to show for it. The only thing that could even have a shred of you is…” she didn’t finish the sentence. She couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“If I use the power of the primal to recreate my form, as we discussed.”

Azem shook her head, her face growing hot. “Elidibus, that won’t be you. That’ll be a creature, an abomination with one sole purpose.”

“Better that than to leave Amaurot in the hands of calamity.”

Damn this mask, she thought as her tears stung her eyes. She stood up, and stepped to his side, making Elidbus turn to her and gawk at her clear breach of Convocation etiquette. She fell to one knee, and took his hands.

“Please, Elidibus”, she choked out through the lump in her throat, “I don’t want you to die. You’re so young. You have so much potential. You have a future ahead of you, my friend.” Her voiced shuddered before she begged him, “Reconsider, give me time to think of a better solution. Stand with me as I’ve stood with you before.” Her tears were contagious, as the young amaurotine felt his own well up too.

“I’m sorry, Azem. But time is so precious, so valuable. My future means nothing if all I hold dear is brought to ruin.”

Her tears dripped behind her mask and rolled down her cheeks.

“Damn it all”, she seethed, and ripped the mask of her face to wipe away her tears. The face she kept from her young friend for so many years laid bare in front of him.

“Elidibus, look at me.”

“I-I am…”

“No, I mean without the mask. Please. I may never have this chance again. I beg you.”

He hesitated.

He thought back through the years. He respected her, treated her like a sister as she treated him like a brother. They dined together, enjoyed their leisure time together, she knew his family as he knew hers. Yet through it all, he did not remove the mask in front of her. It felt akin to baring himself naked to her.

But when he stared into her eyes and witnessed the sorrow emanate from her soul, the choice became clear.

He removed his mask and revealed to her the hazel eyes and cherub cheeks he concealed. It only agitated her further to see the man- barely a man- that would become Zodiark’s heart.

“I will not sit by and align myself with this madness. I will not associate myself with the end of our very star. If the Convocation should move forward with the proposal to summon this dark primal…I will resign.”

His tears burned in his eyes, and he wiped them away with his hands. “Don’t do this, Azem!” he sobbed, “Don’t make me choose between my loved ones and my world!”

“I chose my world when I argued against the summoning. Your loved ones are in this world, Elidibus.”

“Don’t you see I have no choice?!”

“You have a choice, Elidibus, and I beg you to make the right one!”

“I will not forsake my duty, Azem!”

There, the line was drawn in fire. Azem and Elidibus stood on opposite sides of it, and watched the past burn.

She turned her back to him and replaced her mask on her face.

“Then it would appear our business is concluded”, she stated coldly.

The door opened and closed. The rustle of her robe as she stormed out was the last thing he heard before he sunk his head into his arms as they crossed on his desk and cried softly into them. The salt water stained his desk.

The memories flashed too quickly for Dia to keep up, but the last memory was clear; Azem clutched a white robe and red mask, and wept into the cloth.

********

The tug of the past released itself from Dia’s soul and she returned to Emet-Selch’s paradise.

“It would appear the burden of Azem has unveiled itself to you.”

Dia jerked her head to her right and met her gaze with Hythlodaeus.

“Hello, my new old friend.” She couldn’t help but smile. “Hello to you, Hythlodaeus. How are you?”

“I am well. Forgive me for startling you; I was merely curious as to how the stone fares with you, and if it grants you the wisdom I had hoped it would.”

She let out a light laugh. “Yes and no.”

The amaurotine hummed. “Helios was capable of balancing her impulsive nature with implacable wisdom. This made her a great fit for the seat of Azem along with her combat prowess. Perhaps this was why Hades loved her so; his impulsiveness rivaled hers, thus do I find myself at the bottom of the sea.”

“You know where we are?”

“It’s difficult not to draw conclusions when fish people occasionally wander in.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“Did you know Elidibus, Hythlodaeus?”

“Not as well as I knew dear Hades, but I knew him. Helios loved inviting him over for drinks, the occasional card game, and park outing. He followed Helios like a lost puppy, and it drove Hades crazy.” Dia laughed at his recollection. Hythlodaeus turned his head to face the ground in front of him.

“When Elidibus sacrificed himself, she lost more than just him. Hades was also corrupted to Zodiark’s influence to the point where he never appeared in the apartment again. She knew only sorrow, and I could only be of such comfort.” He moved his gaze to hers.

“Dia, I barely know you, yet I can see you’ve suffered great loss and sacrifice. I can only hope you can keep those you hold dear. I can only hope that you will live a happy life. Most of all, I can only hope that those who find you dear shall keep you close. Already do I find myself holding you dear…both of you.”

“What?”

“I speak of the other piece of you that resides within; a strange thing, it is. He’s not rejoined with your soul, yet he’s perfectly aligned with it”, Hythlodaeus explained.

“Oh good, it can see me. Just the thing to give me nightmares”, complained Ardbert.

“He need not fear. Much like Hades, I am gifted with the ability to see souls. I mean no harm.” Dia couldn’t help but find herself amused at his squeamishness with the amaurotines.

“I see. Thank you, Hythlodaeus.” She rose from the park bench. “As a matter of fact, I need to tend to the ones I hold dear now.”

“Of course. May we cross paths again soon, my new old friend.”

She nodded with a bright smile and prepared Teleport.

“Thank the gods we’re leaving”, praised Ardbert.

Cram it, she whispered.

***********

The night sky glazed over the Source. It was 10pm and Dia only just left the Syrcus Trench. She called upon her black chocobo to carry her to the Rising Stones. The doors flung open at her command and she walked past them with what confidence she could muster.

“Ah, Dia, I expected you to be in Ishgard. Is aught amiss?” greeted Alphinaud. He sat at a table near the bar alongside Alisaie and G’raha with a deck of Triple Triad cards.

“Oh, uh, well, I had hoped to speak with you in private, but if you’re busy…”

“Nonsense. I’m happy to make time for you. That said, must it be in private?”

She thought about it for a moment. “I mean…I guess it’s not anything particularly sensitive…”

“Anything you can say to Alphinaud, you can say to me”, Alisaie added.

“As well as I”, G’raha chimed in.

She didn’t expect an audience, but she was presented with little choice.

“Very well”, Dia took in a big breath through her nose and let it out through mouth. “I just want to say…I want you to be okay, Alphinaud.”

His eyebrows furled in confusion.

“Sixteen summers is far too young to be dealing with any of this. Hells, when I lost my fathers to the Calamity, I could barely keep myself together and I was twenty-five.”

“You lost your fathers to the Calamity?” G’raha asked.

This shocked the other two as well. For as long as they’ve known her, they knew surprisingly little of her past before she joined the Scions.

“It’s not the point. My point is, you have experienced so much loss, and pain, and betrayal. The people you’ve lost, the things you’ve seen; no one your age should be subjected to such things, and yet you are, and yet you grow stronger for it. I want you know that I see you, Alphinaud. I see you and I am so proud of you. But I don’t want you to bear it by yourself.”

Alphinaud wiped his building tears away with his sleeve. “I don’t bear it alone”, he explained, “I never have. I’ve had you. You’ve been my beacon when the light of the dawn grows dim. You’ve been an anchor to keep me aweigh where I would find myself adrift. We’ve shared these burdens together, and I promise, wherever we go, we will always share them.” She couldn’t help, but drop down and wrap the young one into her arms. The other two rose from their seats and piled themselves onto the pair. Dia and Alphinaud released the floodgates onto each others shoulders, quietly sniffling.

“We fight together. These burdens shall be lifted by all of us”, said G’raha, “Come what may, we need not fight alone.”

“Dia, in the past, you’ve fought these battles in solitude, but our future will be shaped by all of us fighting at your side.”

They enjoyed this rare moment of closeness together. Dia’s not one for sentimentality, but she couldn’t stop herself. She wanted him to know.

Elidibus, I’m sorry you were led to make such a decision and that Azem couldn’t be there. That you should bear the burden of the ancient world at such a young age is a tragedy no one should experience. But I will make it right with this one.

This one will not walk alone.

14 notes · View notes

zodiyack · 4 years

Text

Under Stars

Requested by anon: Hi, my love! I have a request where Y/N take the bullets instead of John. Like, she put herself in front of him allowing him to kill those men. She sees herself alone, since Thomas is married, Arthur has Linda and everyone is kinda moving on with their lives. After discussions (which makes her fell alone and useless) , Y/N sacrifices herself for John and his happinness, saying before she dies something like "I want you all to be happy". Sorry if u already made something like that + (Addition to their request)

Pairing: Shelby Family & Gray Family + Shelby!reader (no romance)

Warnings: Death, angst, murder, mention of depression, sad soft stuffs

Note: TITLE IS INSPIRED BY AURORA’S “UNDER STARS” FOR THE MEANING OF THE SONG WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE K BYE I’M SORRY! Also; extra bit at the end, I added it cause the title, I hope it’s okie! I cried while writing this oml

Taglist: @matth1w @redspaceace

masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

“Got nothin’ better to do on Christmas morning?” John put down his gun when he realized it was only Michael.

“Tommy wants everybody at Charlie’s yard now, come on.” Michael gave a slight tilt of his head. Y/n creeped out next to John, hair messed up from her nieces’ and nephews’ game of climbing on their aunt human-sized-jungle gym the previous night. They sure were excited hear that their aunt would be staying for Christmas.

He turned, pushing his dog into the house and trying to close the door so they could get going. “Get in. Get in!” They walked around, “What’s going to happen? It’s fucking Christmas.”

“Look John, we don’t have time for this.”

“Alright, just come into the house.” Michael interrupted him, “Just come to the meeting-” but he continued like Michael never even spoke. “Have some food”

Esme rushed to the door, pushing John aside when he opened it, despite his “ey”s, and stomped over to Michael. She got extremely close to his face and angerly spat out her take on the situation, “Tell Tommy Shelby we can look after ourselves!”

However, Michael remained calm. “Tommy says they could come for us today, Esme-”

“’Tommy says’,” she turned to John and Y/n, repeating her mimic, “‘Tommy says’,” turning back to Michael, she released the same anger, “Are you his fucking parrot?!”

“Look, it’s the mafia! Alright? This is the New York mafia we’re talking about!”

“And we’re the Peaky fucking Blinders.” John stated, gun slung over his shoulder.

“No, we’re not, John! We’re not the Peaky fucking Blinders unless we’re together!”

Esme stepped closer to Michael, “You were together in the gallows, with one man missing.”

Michael took a second, then ignored Esme and returned to his calmed state. “John. John, come to the meeting. All right? Think about the kids.” John’s gaze began to move, as did his body when Esme turned to see his reaction, “Come to the meeting, and if you want to leave, then fine.”

“No. It’s Christmas day. We have a family now, we’re staying at home!” Esme shouted. Michael looked to Y/n with a pleading raise of his eyebrows. She closed her eyes and shook her head with shrug, there wasn’t much she could do to change Esme’s mind.

A man pushed over a hay bale, vaulting over it and readying his gun.

John, already facing the direction of the cart, did the same, cocking his gun and yelling to Esme and his sister. “In the fucking house!”

Michael lifted his head, noticing the man and cart. “Esme-” More men jumped out. Michael recognized the cart, which he had passed on the way here. The honking of his car’s horn as he rushed, a form of pleading for it to move out of his way.

John fired at them, hitting a hay bale but missing the men. “John!” Michael pushed Esme inside and tossed a gun to his cousin, who ran beside her brother in an attempt to help. She quickly realized her brother’s mistake in the choice of his gun. He was quick to shoot again, but the men were quick to shoot back, weapons faster than his shot gun.

Esme halted behind the door, glancing to the siblings with fear. No. It couldn’t be. It pained her just much as it would had it been the other Shelby. It wasn’t John, though he had been in the front, it was his sister. She pushed herself in front of her brother. Unknown to anyone but her, her mind flashed with thoughts of her family, of John’s family. Of Charlie and her other nieces and nephews. Of her mother.

The bullets hit her in repetition, over and over and over again. The bullets from the mafia continued hitting her stomach and chest leaving bloodied holes in her clothing and body. Time felt like it was moving in slow motion.

Y/n felt nothing but content. Peaceful. Free.

The violent scene resumed around her soon-to-be-lifeless body as she dropped to the ground. Michael was hit with a bullet, not enough to kill him, but grazing him just right, just enough, to make him drop to the ground as well, dragging John down with him.

A peaceful moment. Though she now lie hanging onto life as tight as she could, maybe just to say goodbye, she felt peaceful. A smile found it’s way onto her face, the shock and pain got to her, a dreamy look filled her eyes.

She could hear Esme’s painful screams, the agony and sorrow dripping from her throat. She felt John lift her head onto his lap and his tears drip onto her face. His face was red, nose snotty and eyes puffy as he cried for her to hold on. As he cried and told her that they’d find someone who could help. As he told her that they would kill the mafia for what they did to his sister.

“J-John.” She coughed up blood. Her head twitched slightly as John’s hand caressed her cheek, Esme and Michael now kneeling over her body as well. Y/n’s eyes scanned Michael’s wounds, to which he gave her a look. A look that read regret and possibly a message of “now’s not the time”.

“Take c-care of Esme and y-your kids. Tell them I-I love them. Tell all of our fam-family I l-love them.” She smiled up at his teary face, blood coating her teeth and spilling out of her mouth a bit. “I want you all to be happy.”

With that last sentence, her eyes stopped acknowledging their presences and flicked up to the sky. A final breath left her mouth and her head lolled limp on his lap. His thumb, still stroking her cheek, felt the warmth leave her body, slowly being replaced with a dreadfully-familiar cold. The cold of the dead.

His sister now lied dead in his lap, a smile still upon her face, no hint of regret anywhere. Esme clung to him once she processed Y/n’s passing. The way she shoved herself in front of her brother so carelessly, like she wanted it to happen. She thought of the way Y/n had been hesitant to join them or Tommy and Grace, or really any of the couples of the family, when they went places.

Before Y/n passed, when she was looking to the heavens, her mind showed her a sight. She stood before her mother, who was smiling and well in the afterlife. Y/n couldn’t think of anything else, but joining her. Her mother moved to the side, showing her more of what she could join in on.

She knew all three of the women in front of her. Grace talked with John’s dead wife, both of them smiling at Y/n and eagerly beckoning her over to them. Her mum slowly moved her hand, welcoming Y/n to the paradise.

So, she grabbed onto her mother’s extended hand and greeted her new company.

. . .

“Go fuck those bastards responsible!” Polly sobbed a yell at Tommy, returning to her place over Y/n’s body, brushing her hair from her face. Her lifeless body was brought to the family and chaos ensued.

Tommy grabbed handfuls of his hair and tugged while yelling until his face turned red upon the discovery of his dead sibling. Arthur threw items, flipped tables, and let the cries of agony escape him just as Tommy had. The rest of the family had pretty similar reactions, aside from Ada.

Her eyes were greeted with the sight of her sister, bloodied up and dead. Her hand darted to her mouth, tears spilled from her eyes, her legs moved to Y/n’s side before she could think of the action. Whimpers and small croaks of screams left her mouth muffled.

They knew one of them were likely to die at some point. They wouldn’t have handled that well either. But. Their sister? The kind and cheery one of the bunch. The one who hid her tough shield behind her forgiving smile? No one thought she’d be the first to leave the living.

Her depression was known, and her family helped her care for it, helped make her happy and let her know how much they loved her. They tried their hardest, and her thoughts of suicide were gifted to her in a disguise of murder. But why?

Why her?

“It should’ve been me...”

“Don’t say that John...she wanted you alive...”

“It should’ve though...” Pangs of guilt were sent straight to not just his heart, but his brothers’. His sister’s. His aunt’s. His wife’s. His cousin’s. They felt guilty for what had been done, the murder of Y/n was no one of the Peaky Blinder’s fault, but everyone still blamed themselves.

. . .

John and Esme cuddled into each other by the fire, no words being spoken, their hearts heavy and eyes watery. One of John’s children walked up to them, rubbing their puffy red eyes that matched their parents’ and tilting their head at their father.

“Are you crying cause you miss Auntie? Don’t worry, she’s just sleeping. Under those stars outside my window. She’s.. she has only fallen asleep.”

“What?”

“Auntie. She’s only fallen asleep. And when God says it’s time, he’ll wake her up.” The little boy climbed onto the sofa. “I hope she’s dreaming of me. What about you, mummy?”

Esme’s mouth had dropped in shock from the sentence. “I-I- uh yeah... I do too, my love. I think she’s dreaming of you, for sure. I- I think she’s dreaming of you, me, daddy, all of us.”

“I hope she has a good sleep. Speaking of sleep, can you tuck me in? Aunt Y/n did it a special way...I miss it when she tucked me in.” John and Esme’s hearts ached at the sight of their child, eyebrows scrunched in thought before he jumped up and his face filled with joy. “Maybe when she wakes up she can tuck me in again!”

“Of course sweetie...” Esme’s voice cracked with sadness laced through her words and smile. “Time for bed, dearest... Wanna show mummy and daddy how Auntie used to tuck you in?”

The boy beamed with happiness, nodding eagerly at the idea. “Mhm!” He grabbed his parent’s arms and pulled them into his room, telling them instructions. After he finished, they sat on his bed with him, their tears breaking free at his final sentences before he kissed them goodnight;

“Goodnight Y/n! I hope you wake up soon, we miss you! Sleep well and dream good dreams of me under those stars of yours!”

1K notes · View notes

atinytokki · 3 years

Text

Paradise

vi. Bad Habit

“You be good now, son,” were Father’s parting words. “Listen to your grandparents. I’ll see you as soon as I can get away.”

He had already said his goodbyes to Haneul, who was locked away in her bedroom, sick.

With the end of Father’s visit came school, and while San had enjoyed meeting his peers and flying through his course work last year, he was afraid it would be too easy for him this time.

Days spent inside gazing forlornly out windows while someone else told him things he already knew sounded less adventurous than they always made it out to be. And it sounded a lot like Haneul’s current state of existence; a prisoner.

Over the remainder of summer she had worsened and worsened. There was no evidence of this other than her decreasing time spent out in the world and Dr. Hong’s increasing time spent at their cottage.

He had met with Father last night, on the eve of his departure, apologising about taxes and prices and other things San didn’t understand. What he did understand was that Haneul now needed a medicine more expensive than they could afford.

“You’ll do as you’re told, right?” Father nudged as he began to pull away from a tight hug. “They really need you now.”

San could only nod weakly and relinquish his grip on his father as he stepped up to the front seat of the cart and let Grandfather drive on in the direction of the western docks. He would work ceaselessly when he arrived at home, every extra coin sent to Namhae for Haneul’s sake.

Managing household affairs was supposed to be a distant future for San, but already as he stood in the ocean and watched the sunrise, he could feel it creeping up.

He couldn’t be sure whether anything Dr. Hong had done was working or not, and Haneul didn’t seem keen to tell him.

San had fed her, administered every type of medicine they had in the cabinets, sung to her, read to her, played half a game of cards with her, and still nothing was bringing her out of her darkened mood.

Playing cards against someone who would rather stare out the window wasn’t the most fulfilling.

“Is something out there?” A high-pitched voice interrupted his musings. Little Inho had approached, school bag slung over his shoulder, likely expecting San to walk him to school. It was his first year and he was very excited.

“No, no,” he answered in a rush. “Just my imagination. You’re early.”

San’s observation changed the topic swiftly, and Inho went on to explain why he had come at the crack of dawn. “The garrison is finished! Don’t you want to go see it?”

“Are you sure?” San snorted, adjusting his own school bag and beginning the walk into town. The last thing he wanted was for some construction accident to befall the clumsy boy and become his responsibility.

“Yes, the officers who will attend it have already moved in,” Inho told him confidently, leading the way past shops and vendors to the site which had earlier been the source of constant noise and disruption.

“Woah,” San breathed when he laid eyes on it. It was no mere naval building, but an entire complex built near the town hall, complete with a jailhouse, offices, armoury, and some strange sort of display at the front that San couldn’t put a name to.

“Oh, the stocks and the whipping post,” Inho supplied easily when he asked. “Haven’t you heard of it? That’s where the criminal goes.”

“I thought criminals went to jail… or to the noose,” San muttered uncomfortably. They hadn’t been showcased for the town to see in strange torture devices, but then again, San had lived in a small town.

“But sometimes they go to the stocks or the whipping post,” Inho told him matter-of-factly, even as he stumbled over the long words. “To be publicly shamed.”

“Do you think there will be many criminals there?” San asked, not sure who he was addressing his question to, or why he was even asking.

Inho could do no more than shrug and skip away in the direction of the schoolhouse, sending San hurrying after him.

Considering how smart Inho was, San had no worries about his performance in class, so he turned his thoughts to his own situation.

Other than the several new students— children of naval officers moving in, according to the morning announcements— nothing much had changed.

There were more arithmetic problems to solve, more scientific experiments to conduct, and more ancient tragedies that hit too close to home to read.

Due to Haneul’s absence, the schoolmaster sent books home on San’s back for her to read, and even when he tried reading them to her she didn’t become conscious enough to show signs of paying attention.

It seemed like she was getting worse and worse and their relationship was following suit.

The wind fluttered the curtains of his bedroom where San watched birds fly out to sea and wished he could follow.

For the evening it was just him and Haneul while their grandparents went on an evening walk along the beach.

It was the first of many evenings like that, where Haneul stayed in her room and San in his, alone save for his imagination, his books, and the small wooden pirate ship he had whittled in secret.

Regardless of the new boys he sometimes played with, San felt less and less connected as he entered his teenage years. As excited as he had been about Namhae when he arrived as a child, it no longer seemed that he belonged. That he had ever belonged in the first place.

Surrounded by the ocean, the very symbol of freedom, life was nonetheless monotonous and restricting. School was followed by work in the carpentry shop and then sitting in silence by Haneul’s bedside, watching his grandparents leave for their walk, and if he was lucky enough, sneaking out to play with his new friends along the beach at night.

Without really realising it, he was acting out the way he did as a small child when life was frustrating. San was a man of action, and if there was nothing to be done, he resorted to desperate but futile acts in a disturbed mood.

On one such winter evening the year he turned fourteen, his grandparents returned early from a shorter beach walk, hands held the whole time, to see San hurriedly putting the carpentry shop back together after some rowdiness with the officers’ children.

Neither of them spoke, and Grandmother simply padded upstairs to let her husband deal with the problem.

“Is anything broken?” He eventually asked a silent San, who quickly shook his head and continued putting chairs upright and tools back on the bench. “What exactly did you boys do in here?”

San exhaled through his nose before admitting, “We were studying at first but some of them brought die and cards so we ended up playing…”

“And drinking?” Grandfather finished for him, voice unchanged though there was disappointment in his eyes.

“No,” San lied smoothly. “Some of the older boys did, but—”

“But this is how you spend your evenings?” The older man cut to the heart of the matter, settling into his chair while a long pause unfolded in the wake of his question.

Maybe it was the effects of the rice wine but as soon as San opened his mouth, he couldn’t stop.

“I’ve been to probably every place on this whole island. I know everyone who lives here. If this is how I spend my evenings it’s because there’s nothing else to do. Haneul is upstairs dying and no one cares, not even Dr. Hong. Do you know it’s been six months since he recommended a new medicine? The one I feed her every day does nothing. The money Father sends from the mainland does nothing. All the books I read in school, and all the furniture we sell in the shop, and all the friends I make do nothing, Grandfather. Maybe if you would just fix up the sailboat like you promised when we first came, maybe then I’d feel like I wasn’t so trapped on this island where every day is the same and nothing I do changes anything.”

Finally out of breath, he couldn’t bear Grandfather’s heartbroken eyes on him any longer and ran to his room.

As he cried into his pillow he tried to pinpoint the moment it had all gone wrong. His life wasn’t supposed to be like this.

The more he thought about it in his hazy, turbulent mind, the more he realised it had always been this way. And it was never going to change.

Morning brought the same gentle quiet of crashing waves and calling birds and the walk to school. San managed to avoid seeing his grandparents until school was done for the day, too guilty to know what to say to them if he did.

He and Grandfather worked in silence on a set of new sliding windows for Mr. Shim, and San was content to keep it that way, letting his actions speak with apology instead of his words.

But soon enough Grandfather opened his mouth.

“Your father hasn’t been sending money.”

San sat up from his work and furrowed his brows in confusion.

“It’s too dangerous,” Grandfather explained with a sigh. “Pirates and all. We wouldn’t want it to be stolen.”

Pirates were a variable none of them had accounted for. Although San’s friends always assured him the Royal Navy had them on the run, they were enough of a threat for trade to be severely impacted.

“Would you like to come on some of our evening walks?” Grandfather offered as they cleaned up and closed the shop. “That’s how your Grandmother and I deal with being powerless, and it might keep you out of trouble.”

The truth was, San did want to go. He had always wanted to tag along, because anything was better than watching Haneul toss and turn with pained moans, her clouded eyes far away from him and the seaside paradise their home used to be.

But he turned up his nose and faced away to hide his wet eyes. “No.”

Not if the only reason was to keep him out of trouble.

Life went on that afternoon and every afternoon following, with the issue dropped. San didn’t invite his friends over again, and only arranged to meet them at one of their houses or the beach.

Just before winter break, he went out one evening and nearly stumbled over the sailboat. Muttering to himself, he bent down to push it out of the way before the reason for its appearance dawned on him.

“It’s fixed!” He realised, eyes filling up with happy tears as he danced around the thing and quickly ran to Mr. Shim’s to knock on the door.

“Excuse me, sir!” He panted when the old ferryman opened it for him. “The boat— our boat— my grandfather finally fixed it! Can you, I mean would you, if it’s not an inconvenience, possibly be able to teach me how to sail it?”

Mr. Shim blinked at him for a moment before straightening and taking a glance at the setting sun. “I’ll send Jiyong to meet you in the square tomorrow afternoon?”

A slow smile spread on San’s face as he nodded his agreement and bowed respectfully several times over in thanks.

Tomorrow afternoon couldn’t come soon enough.

San flew through his schoolwork and brushed off his friends, begged Grandfather to let him off work early just this once and arrived in town’s central square right on time.

It was busier than usual by the garrison, and as San approached the crowd that had gathered he learned why.

Someone was chained to the whipping post, and an officer was flogging him right there for the whole island to see.

Wincing as a blow struck the man’s skin and left angry red blood trails behind, San wondered aloud who was being punished.

“A pirate,” Jiyong’s voice answered him as he drew up alongside the teenager, joining the crowd with his arms crossed to peer above heads and view the spectacle. “Not sure whose crew he belongs to, but he’s definitely one of the pirates they caught over the weekend.”

It was no disturbing occurrence, San reminded himself in an effort to keep from plugging his ears against the pirate’s cries. He had seen pirates before, almost been attacked by one in that cave on Dalhae.

He should be happy a pirate was getting his comeuppance.

“What’s going to happen to him?” San couldn’t help but ask when the man was unchained and dragged back into the prison, listless and painted in his own blood.

Jiyong let out an acknowledging hum before launching into an explanation.

“Well, you see, according to our laws here in Jaecho, when someone is caught with reasonable suspicion of being a pirate or of aiding a pirate, the navy can within its rights have them imprisoned, whipped, and whatever other interrogation tactics they use in there. But it’s not always a good idea to beat a suspected pirate, especially in public, should the claim be proven wrong and the accused demand reparations and public apologies. That would be… embarrassing.”

“I take it that situation has happened before,” San snorted.

Jiyong joined the laughter for a moment before nodding reluctantly. “A few times that I can think of.”

The sound of the door closing ominously behind the unlucky prisoner brought San’s attention back to the man’s fate. “Will he be executed?”

“Not unless he’s a proven pirate,” Jiyong rattled off instantly. “And to be one of those you must be either found guilty and sentenced to death by court, or marked with a pirate brand from a previous encounter, in which case the trial can be skipped.”

San went pale when it dawned on him why. There must be so many executions to get to that skipping the court process for several of them was necessary.

Jiyong continued, oblivious, “The branding is Admiral Kim’s tactic of keeping track of pirates that may slip through his fingers the first time he arrests them without enough evidence. If he catches them again, in the act of piracy or not, as long as he finds a brand he can have them hung and whatever else he pleases as soon as the schedule allows. And all the other pirates will see the corpse hung from the gibbet and beware.”

San shivered but spoke up as he caught on, “So since this man has been at the whipping post, there’s a high chance he really is a pirate, just an unbranded one?”

“Exactly. Or else we might’ve been watching his execution.”

Knowing that was a sight he would rather not try to stomach, San turned towards the harbour and Jiyong followed him.

“How do you know all this about courts and convictions anyway?” He asked the older man, who laughed and rubbed his neck bashfully.

“I study law when I’m not working,” Jiyong admitted, frowning when San seemed confused by the fact. “Did you think I was only going to work for Mr. Shim for the rest of my life?”

“But you’re his apprentice, you’re supposed to take over his business,” San reminded him matter-of-factly, crossing his arms in a way that probably looked a tad childish. After all, that was what Grandfather expected of him with regards to the carpentry shop.

“There’s no reason I can’t do both,” Jiyong insisted as the ocean came into view. “You don’t have to just take what you’re given in this world, ferrying passengers is fine but if there’s a chance to move up in status, I’d be a fool not to take it. Besides, it’s not like you haven’t taken up some bad habits.”

Clearly knowing too much, he accompanied his final remark with a wink and San found it necessary to change the subject to sailing before his behaviour was further exposed.

San got his first taste that day as Jiyong taught him everything he could possibly learn in a single afternoon about the handling of a small sailboat. And the following weekend he taught him everything else he could learn.

Grandfather had fixed the vessel for him in order to satiate his rebellious desires but, even as grateful as San was for his gift, the boat was quickly put to use for more unruly evenings.

He played hooky on and off for the rest of the school year, just enough to avoid being caught, and went out when he wasn’t permitted to. From his perspective it wasn’t as if he sailed into dangerous waters or endangered other passengers, and what Grandfather didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

For the time being it seemed he had no inkling. Haneul, on the other hand, did.

“Were you sailing?” The muttered question, barely louder than a whisper, interrupted his reading aloud.

San could only blink at her, surprised, as she gazed at him with her clear and piercing eyes, reflecting the candlelight by her bedside.

“You’re awake…” he breathed, stumbling to his feet in excitement. “Yes I was sailing, how did you know?”

Haneul’s expression didn’t change, but she glanced out the window and her eyes landed on the autumn moon. School had begun again after a scorching summer and San continued his nightly adventures unbeknownst to anyone else.

“You smell of the sea.”

San sat down again but closed the book and placed it on the table. Haneul hadn’t directly spoken to him in a couple of weeks, and even when she was coherent enough to do so, they never had much to talk about.

“Is it true you’re going to visit Father?” She asked quietly after a moment. It sounded like she wished she could come along.

San wasn’t sure how she even knew about those plans, considering the fact that he had only just asked Grandfather for permission that afternoon, but he nodded in answer and watched her face fall.

“I would bring you along but you’re still feeling ill and you don’t like sailing anyway and—”

“You need more attention than you’ve been getting,” she translated softly.

And, as usual, Haneul was correct but it embarrassed San to admit it.

“It’s just that I haven’t spent much time with him in the past few years.”

Because when he visits, he spends it with you, went unsaid.

“I’ll go over to Dr. Hong’s and ask if Eunkyung and Eunae can come visit you after school so you aren’t alone,” San offered when she didn’t reply.

The prospect brightened her mood for the rest of the evening, and as promised, San knocked on the neighbours’ door with his request before bed.

Eunkyung and Eunae had been too busy to manage more than a few afternoons at the Choi cottage, especially since there weren’t many games Haneul could participate in from the confines of her bed.

“How long will you be gone?” Inho asked with a pout as San slipped his shoes back on and prepared to go home, arrangements made.

“I’m not sure yet, maybe a week or so? You can survive walking to school without me for that long, right?”

Inho huffed but eventually agreed. “My noonas can take me. They’re boring compared to you, though.”

San couldn’t help but blush at the praise and gave the young boy an affectionate head pat before walking home and crawling into bed.

Perhaps it had been an exaggeration when he thought no one cared about him anymore. Sure, he often was alone and felt more like an outsider than ever, but he had Haneul, he had his grandparents, he had Inho and Jiyong and his friends at school, and most of all, he had sailing.

He dreamed about wind in his hair and sea grass bending over as if greeting a prince, the sky on fire with colour before him as he proceeded to his boat.

It was practically sailing itself across smooth and shining waves and San could sit back and feel the setting sun on skin.

He was where he belonged.

...

A/N: I have become swamped my school :< Been meaning to write this for some time, hopefully I’ll get a schedule underway but thanks for your patience, don’t forget to comment and motivate me lol and stay tuned ❤️

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jj-bxby · 4 years

Text

Where Do We Go? |Chapter One| JJ Maybank x Reader

Summary - Y/N is a Mainlander who has just moved to The Cut. When she meets her new neighbor, she just may have found the family she’s been searching for, and more.

gif credit @toesure

Warnings - None

Word count - 1.8k

A/N - This is the first fanfic I’ve written in about 3 years, so I genuinely hope you all like it! Gimme all of the three C’s: comments, concerns... cuestions. This is only the first part of the series, so if you would like to be tagged, just ask!

It’s never easy to start something over, especially when that ‘something’ happens to be your entire life.

If given the option, you would have left your home a long time ago, but there's only so much that a 17-year-old can do on her own. You smile drunkenly as you feel the summer sun shining on your skin, wind whipping your hair around your face wildly. The scent of the briny sea lingering in your nostrils as you pull into the road leading to your new home.

Outer Banks is supposed to be Paradise On Earth, and you can see why. After only being here for a few hours, you have already decided that you wouldn't really mind if you never leave this island again. A life on your own is what you’d always dreamed of, and you’re still a little dazed at the fact that it's finally your reality. After all of the sleepless nights consisting of fights, double shifts at the hotel near your house, and what seemed like an entirety of planning, you can finally go off on your own adventure.

You pull your car into the drive of the new home. Your new home. Cutting the ignition, you hop out of the beat-up Jeep and begin unloading your suitcases to bring inside. Off in the distance, you spot a group of kids that seemed to be around your age, all dancing to a beat blaring from one of their speakers. Beer cans were seized in each of their hands, and a joint was fixed between the lips of one boy. They all were giggling and chanting as a brunette boy tried to chug his drink, the booze dribbling out of the sides of his mouth and onto the grass. The happy sight made you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. You were such a straight-edge compared to these teenagers, never having had more than a sip of your mother’s wine while she wasn’t looking. Seeing them all with broad smiles plastered on their faces made you anxious, but yet something within you yearned to join them. To spin and howl and beam with all of them until the day turned into night, and the night turned into dawn. Maybe you would be able to fit in here after all, even if it takes some smoothing of your rough edges.

The group all looked in your direction after the dark-haired girl pointed you out, all of them pausing their twirling and jumping to acknowledge the new girl. They all give you a look of friendliness once your eyes meet, but the blonde with the joint flashed you a big smile and waved his entire arm at you, clearly wanting to be the center of attention. You felt your cheeks turn a shade crimson when you realized they were looking at you, but you give them a grin as you wave back before returning to pull all of your bags up to the front porch. You turned back to get one last look at the teenagers before you had to set foot in your house. The set seemed to have realized that the new neighbor may not want to hear their noisiness, as they had pulled their speaker and cooler a little ways away to the dock near a house, which you assumed had to belong to at least one of them.

Turning back to face your new front door, you took a deep breath to still your mind. This is it, this is your new beginning.

•

Okay, so unpacking is pretty damn boring as it turns out. And honestly, with weather this nice, how can I be expected to stay focused on a task that’s just so dull? I, at least, got my bags inside and some clothes placed in drawers, but it didn’t take long before my mind wandered and I step out into the backyard. This house may have seen some better days, but the view is to die for. Living life on a lake may not be ideal for everyone, but it is for me. Fishing, hammocks, and laying on a boat on a sunny day are all I could ever ask for. Even though I may not have a boat yet, I do have a hammock, and I’ll be damned if those aren’t good for some afternoon and I-have-a-lot-of-shit-to-do naps! I spot a couple of trees a few yards away from my new home to set up my new napping spot. After I finish tying off the support ropes into sturdy(ish) knots, I crawl into the netted bed, only needing steadying myself by flinging my arms around once (which, might I add, is quite good by my standards). Finally being able to rest my body after all of the moving and anxiety of the day feels so lovely. With the glow of the soft evening sun warming my skin in small beams through the tree leaves, I hardly notice how heavy my eyelids become, and definitely don’t mind when I drift off into sleep.

My dream is filled with the small party of teens from earlier today, but this time I’ve joined them. Now, I’m jumping and cackling with all of them while sneakily stealing the snapback off of one of the boy’s heads. I’m giggling as I toss my arm around the dark-haired girl and blonde boy, turning to give him a cheeky smile as he looks to me. Suddenly, his face is all I see.

“Hi… Uh, hey? You awake?”

I rush to stand up and immediately regret it. As I try to get up, I end up flailing like a fish and tumbling out of the hammock, falling onto my back and groaning. I look up to see where the voice came from, and find blue eyes piercing into my own.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to spook you like that. Here, can I help you up?” The boy asks, extending his hand to me. I gladly accept the help and get to my feet. I see that it’s now dark out and the stars are lighting up the night sky. “Again, I’m really sorry I scared you. But maybe be more careful next time getting outta that hammock, yeah? You kinda looked like a fish flopping out of water,” the boy chuckled, running his hand through his hair. Is it me being tired or… is he being extremely cute?

I gave him a little smile as my cheeks flush with color. “It’s alright, I’m not broken or anything. But, I do think that the least you can do for so rudely interrupting my nap is telling me your name.”

“Oh right,” the blonde chuckles, ”I’m JJ. My friends and I are actually throwing a kegger tonight at the boneyard, and I was trying to be neighborly and invite you. You know, make friends and all? You seem about our age, sixteen or seventeen, right? Life here is much easier with friends, you know. Oh!” JJ exclaims, “Do you know where the boneyard is?” He questions. When I shake my head at him, he grins at me mischievously. “Shame. Guess I’ll have to drag you there so you can join in. But first, I’ve gotta get your name.”

“Y/N,” I respond while smoothing down my hair and picking a few pieces of dirt from it. “But ‘The Boneyard’ sounds pretty ominous, what kinda place are you taking me to? And I don’t even know you or your friends, really. So how do I know you’re not just kidnapping me?”

JJ reaches over and pulls a small twig out of my hair. “Well, Y/N, I don’t know you. How do I know you aren’t some kind of axe murderer? Besides, do I look like I need to kidnap a girl just to get her attention?” JJ asks me with a smug look on his face.

“Touché, JJ. I guess I can come to this ‘boneyard’ with you.” JJ holds his hand out to me for a high-five, grinning wildly. I roll my eyes and slap his hand weakly.

“Wow, I literally just felt myself become depressed from that high-five.”

I give him a little shove on the shoulder and start to walk ahead of him. “So, ya gonna take me to this “Boneyard,” or what?”

“Yes, however, you are going the exact wrong way.”

“Oh.”

“C’mon, doll.” JJ takes my small hand into his and starts off towards the Boneyard. From being a few steps behind him, I can just make out the outlines of JJ’s shoulder blades peeking through the sides of his cut-off tee. The heat rose to my cheeks, realizing that this incredibly attractive boy is now taking me to meet his – likely – equally attractive friends, and he’s a major flirt. How in the hell am I going to keep up with this man? Figuratively and literally, his legs are way longer than mine, and I’m practically stumbling over my own two feet just trying to keep the same pace as him.

“So, Y/N, you’re from the mainland, yeah?” The boy questioned, looking over his shoulder to check on me as I nodded to him. “What in the hell made you move to The Cut?”

“Um, well, that’s a bit of a long story as to why I moved. But, what’s The Cut? Is that what you call it here?”

“Well, The Cut is the south side of the island, its where all of us who’re in the working class live, The Pogues, if you will. Figure Eight is where all of the Kooks come from. Y’know, the ones who sit around and play with Daddy’s Money all goddamned day,” JJ spat out the last part. “I’m just wondering why you would choose to move to our side, especially when you had a choice in the matter. I grew up in The Cut — All of the pogues did. Why not go full Kook?”

“Well, back on the mainland I was from a working-class family. I dunno, I wouldn’t have fit in with all of the mansions, and country clubs, and board shorts, I don’t think.” I shrugged my shoulders at him, “I wasn’t made for that kind of life.”

JJ nodded understandingly before beaming at me, “Well, I think you’re going to fit in quite well here, Y/N.” The boy stopped walking and I came to stand at his side, our shoulders brushing against each other. “Welcome to the Boneyard, babe.”

It truly was a sight to see. Teens were sat on fallen driftwood, all huddled around different bonfires, red solo cups in hands. Odd mixes of sunburned kids, girls dressed in oversized tees and jean shorts, preppy-clothed boys all mingled together, seeming to put aside any inequalities just for the night. People drifted from group to group, some gathered at the keg, and some simply standing and chatting as they drank. I grinned at the view ahead, knowing this was only the first of many parties to attend. I look to my side to see JJ’s blue eyes focused on me, and I tried to swallow down the fluttering feeling in my chest.

“Let’s go warm up, yeah?”

•

@midnightmagicmusings

#jj x reader #outer banks #obx #jj obx imagine #jj imagine #jj maybank obx #jj maybank #jj x y/n #obx imagine #obx fic #obx x reader #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagine

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chayacat · 3 years

Text

Devil’s Sweet Star (37)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut

***

Time passes so quickly when you have things to do... You have not even seen the days pass, that you have 2 days left before the Roseville festival. Time flies fast... too fast for your liking. And you have the surprising impression that if you close your eyes or blink just for a moment, these 2 days will have passed. The first banners for the festival begin to hang throughout Roseville. Flyers are distributed to all residents to remind them of this tradition that dates back to the creation of the city. So many generations attended, as a family, as a couple, young and old, tourists and inhabitants of neighbouring cities. And you who are, in a way, a foreigner because remember, you have been living here for only a few months, going not only to attend, but also to participate for the first time.

It was a busy morning for you. Mayor Tallis gave you an appointment to see the final preparations as well as to know the appearance and taste of the future cake. To which you replied that the appearance will be a surprise until the festival, but that on the other hand you could make him taste a part. Luckily you still had the pieces of the test cake that you had done with Corey and Amy. And we can say that the result was what you expected. The mayor was delighted to the point of not leaving a single crumb of it. He congratulated you and showed you the layout for the festival. You will therefore find yourself on the right, at the stand closest to the desk where the mayor will make his traditional speech.

“So, you will be here and next to you there will be Mrs. Parson the florist. We have a total of 7/8 stands in all. We usually start with my speech, and then once it's over, the festivities can begin. This will last practically the whole day. Is it right for you? Are you sure you can hold out all day?” He asks with a smile.

“If I can hold my coffee from opening to closing, then I can hold an entire festival! And then I would have my employees with me! you can count on us Mr. Mayor! and thank you again for calling on me.” you respond cheerfully.

“Very well! I will not retain you any longer in this case. I wish you a very good day miss!”

7/8 stands... it's a lot of people! But you can bet that many people will come to see you! This is a good opportunity to make a little extra in addition to coffee sales! And that can only be beneficial. Fortunately, Corey and Amy will be there to support you! Otherwise only you would have a hard time. After a while in the day, you will let them go, so that they can enjoy the festival too. If only you could enjoy it too with Jed. At least it will be to cover the event. And not only him for that matter! other newspapers will be there as well! and it can make a good advertisement for coffee!

You clean your worktop after preparing a batch of Brownies, chocolate lightning, March cakes and Neptune's pie. Amy and Corey began to greet the first customers, with a smile on their faces, ready to work. Quite a few of them greeted you with a smile, others were eager to be at the festival day to see the cake. And then there were those who were talking about the police investigation of Hoggins. Besides, you don't stop thinking about what Jed told you last night... His words looped through your head throughout the night.

It’s said that the world is small, that great minds meet and follow each other, that only the mountains don’t meet. But seriously... what were the chances that Hoggins and Jed would be "linked" by this sad story of which Hoggins is the author? Because it’s because of him everything that happened to this poor Carla... And what were the chances that, 4/5 years later, they would find themselves in the same city? Unless God worships gambling and is lucky, it’s impossible. Is Hoggins only aware that through his own fault, Jed's life has been completely destroyed? Maybe not... Or maybe yes and he doesn't care. Apart from his own person and his reputation, this bastard doesn’t care about anything.

You know what would be funny? To learn one day that it was him who killed your parents... it would be the icing on the cake, the bride's bouquet, the cross on the grave. Fortunately, this is not the case. But soon he will no longer be there. Even if it means spending an entire evening with Ghostface in exchange, Hoggins will soon die. Until now you refused to commit or even think about such a horrible thing, but for him, that's all you wish for him. And Ghostface will do the dirty work for you. Against a night... and a name.

“Excuse me miss... Could I have a cup of tea again? It is so delicious.” ask an old woman.

“Of course, Mrs Nolrich! It's very nice, it's a tea that I had imported directly from England!” You answer with a smile before serving her.

“It's nice to have such a nice person like you here. You know a lot of shops opened before you and they ended up closing. The secret of success is kindness and honesty and you are the only one who knows this secret. I hope you would stay here as long as possible.”

“Haha thank you but you know, if I have to open other cafes one day or move, I'm sure Corey and Amy will be very good bosses! They have a future for both of them.” you replied.

You return to prepare cakes in the back shop when suddenly Hoggins enters in the café. Although Amy informed him that he was not allowed to go behind the counter, Hoggins ignored the ban and entered the back room. That charming smile... you had only one desire, which was to slap him to make him lose. Enjoy the time you have left asshole. You ignored him completely focusing on your work, but his insistent throat scraping forced you to stop to face him.

“Mr Hoggins, I am sorry but normally customers are not allowed to enter the back shop.” you said with a fake smile.

“But I'm not here as a simple client, miss. I really wanted to see again... this magnificent bird of paradise. I learned that your charming café had been attacked, I fell from above! you really have to be silly or crazy to attack a creature as charming as you.” he responds.

“You know I'm in a relationship Mr Hoggins. And I don't intend to leave Jed for you.”

“I could offer you much more than this wretched insect will ever be able to offer you. So let him go! You could explore the world as you wish! you truly believe that a poor journalist like him might be able to do that???”

“Yes. We don't know what the future holds for you, Jed has a brilliant career as a journalist and a future that reaches out to him. He will surely travel the world to bring out the truth. As he did on you. And I want and always would be at his side to support him. As he will always be there for me.”

“Hmph. You don't know anything about him. Do you really believe that he told you EVERYTHING about him? I know much more about him than you do. You should be wary of him my dear. And be careful... An accident happened so quickly. Have a nice day.” replied Hoggins before leaving angry.

A lot of concern came to mind. What if Jed hid things from you? But what could he hide from you? No... he would not dare to lie to you or hide things from you... or if he does it is to protect you? But of what? or from whom? Did he get into trouble? It's possible! Journalists don't just have friends, unfortunately. Above all, they have a lot of enemies. People who are willing to do anything to silence them.

After, jealous as he is, Hoggins could very well lie to you. And surely it is. But better tell Jed about it. To make sure everything is fine. The rest of the day went quietly, despite your worries about Jed. And Amy and Corey understood that. They reassured you as best they could, they were so adorable these two. You were really glad you hired them. They helped you clean the coffee before going home greeting you with a smile on your face. Today was still a busy day and finally closing your café is a real relief. Jed was waiting for you as usual in the parking lot, his usual angel smile on his lips. You hug him and kiss him before getting into his van.

“I hope your day went well. Otherwise, I know a good way to rest: a good movie after a good meal.” said Jed, looking at you noticing that you’re worried. “What’s wrong? You can tell me you know...”

“Jed, I... you... you'll never lie to me huh? you... you'll always tell me things, won't you?” you ask worried.

Jed parked in front of the building before looking at you surprised by your words. He had that look that cats have when they see something new in the house.

“What? Honey... you know that I could never lie to you... I told you everything, absolutely everything. Why this kind of question?”

“I... I don't know. I tell myself that... as a journalist you surely have enemies and... that you must have often been threatened... and that you may still be so then...”

“Tell me the truth. Who said that? Hoggins? Did he come to the café? What did he tell you? He threatened you?!”

You tell Jed the whole conversation. Absolutely everything. He listened quietly, his gaze moving from surprise to anger. Instantly you thought he was angry against you, but when you hear him call Hoggins a bastard, you sigh with relief.

“How dare he...how dare he have the nerve to come to see you, to talk about me, and in addition to threatening you??? I swear to you that I'm going to kill him... he took Carla away from me, I won't let him take you! I... Damn it!” he said before looking at you. “Sorry...Listen. don't listen to him, okay? This guy is just a rotten one. He is jealous. But don't worry... he loses nothing to wait. The prison will seem like hell to him. He doesn't know what's going to happen to him.”

If he is still alive when the police will come to arrest him. Soon... Soon deliverance. It’s only a matter of time, of days, even. Let's hope that after that, it's over. No more trouble, no more problems, no more dirty guys trying to harm you. And let’s hope that Jed will never be aware of your deal with Ghostface. And for the rest. You go back to your apartment, take clean clothes and head to the bathroom to shower. Jed was preparing food and even from the bathroom you could smell a delicious smell of salmon and white butter sauce emanating from the kitchen. Once changed, you head to the kitchen, the table being set Jed finishing preparing the meal. You stick against his back, taking a little laugh from him. Looking at the pan containing the sauce, your curiosity and your desire to taste took over, slightly dipping your finger in the sauce to bring it to your mouth.

“Watch out...it’s hot.” Said Jed smiling

“Maybe but in the meantime it's good. And quite caloric. Not really surprising coming from a white butter sauce... You know I was thinking that... rather than watching a movie... we could... do something else more... amusing.” you respond by passing a hand over his ass.

“I thought you'd be hungry but...not in that sense.”

“Let's say both.” you replied with an seducing smile.

He turned around and kissed you lovingly. And little by little he lowered his hands. You let go of a little moan between your kisses which made him laugh slightly. He lifted you up and carried you to the room where he dropped you off on the bed. The meal will wait. For the moment we will relax ... in a completely different way than in front of a movie. one way more... fun and wilder. Even though Ghostface was more... enterprising as Jed, you must admit it to yourself. But Jed is not a murderer at least.

What will happen once you know who Ghostface is? Denouncing him is not the right solution, it will kill you before you even do anything. but keeping quiet isn't really better either. It's an endless tunnel for you at the moment, or two doors come yours. But which one will you open? And where will it take you? Who will support you? Only God knows.

But one thing is certain.

You are not ready for what will happen to you.

***

(Well, it wasn't pie! especially that on the other side I'm seeing for the RE8 fanfic! Found a name is already complicated, but when you have several ideas and you only have to keep one... it's a real nightmare! As I told you there will first be a prologue a kind of chapter 0 compared to DSS! I hope you’ll like this chapter like the others ones! Well, it's time for my brain to rest! Have a great weekend to you all! See ya!)

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by deadlight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

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diaryofabeautyfiend · 3 years

Text

Small Time Witch (27)

A S G A R D

When you were a small child you attended a Christian nursery school until you were old enough to start kindergarten. One of your very earliest memories was how your teacher described heaven. She called it paradise where the weather was always warm and there were so many trees and mountains and sprawling landscapes. “In the middle,” she would say “is the Lord’s palace. It is so bright and shiny that you will almost be blinded by its majesty.” Perhaps the teacher had been a former resident of Asgard.

You stood at the foot of the Bifrost bridge where Heimdall greeted you. In the distance was the palace glistening like a jewel amongst the stone statues and mountains. The water beneath the bridge looked like it was made of glass it was so still and blue. If you didn’t know better you would have believed you were walking into Oz.

Heimdall stood next to you staring into the horizon with his gold eyes glinting in the sun. “It’s beautiful isn’t it?”

“Yeah” was all you could manage.

“Welcome to Asgard, Princess.” You were startled back into reality.

“I’m not a princess. Please call me Y/N.”

“Your marriage to the Prince is recognized by the throne. It would be improper of me to call you by your name. The Allfather is expecting you.” He directed you into the care of two palace guards who freaking bowed to you. They loaded you into a small craft that zipped you to the palace.

Thor was waiting for you at the door. He introduced himself extending his hand. You reminded him that you were family and you hug. “It’s weird, Thor, because in another life I know you. We’re very close and get into all sorts of trouble together. Usually alcohol is involved.”

He laughed and drew you into his Vice grip. “You remind me of my mother. That may serve you well today.”

“I hope so. The only Odin stories I ever hear are of him being super gruff. He was even a little mean to Jane. Who can be mean to Jane Foster? Sweetest person ever.”

“You know of my Jane?”

“Of course. We’re very good friends. When you’re in town you two usually stay with us. It’s nice.” You didn’t have the heart to tell him that Jane passed away due to complications from cancer. Bruce thought the Aether likely mutated her cells and her body didn’t handle it well. Knowing that you were friends with Jane put a little smile on his face so you chose to keep it to yourself.

When you approached Odin you bowed. He peered down at you from his throne. He looked older than you thought he would. The guy was ancient. You supposed he shouldn’t look young. He looked more frail than anything.

He stood up and walked down the steps to be closer to you. “So this is the Midgardian witch who captured my son’s heart? You are very impressive, young lady. I’ve heard of your talents. Let’s leave this room and retire to my chambers. We’ll have more privacy.” He offered his arm which you took. Thor followed behind. “Please, sit. Now, what can I do for you?”

“Right down to business. Ok. Your highness, I am here to negotiate the terms of Loki’s sentence. The King and small council of Vanaheim have offered to keep Loki in the palace, with your consent of course. In exchange, they will keep me in the Temple of the Vanir to learn their ways. Also, my powers allow me to absorb the energy of the infinity stones. There is a Titan searching for the stones, sir. In my time, he destroyed Asgard and Xandar looking for them. If I can possess even two of them, I can stop him before he lays waist to the Nine.”

He did not say anything for several minutes. You were terrified. Finally, “The Vanir intend to weaponize you. Is that what I’m understanding?”

“I suppose that would imply that they have some sort of control over me. I will not be a weapon against another realm.”

“And if they use Loki as leverage, what choice would you have?”

You took a deep breath so you wouldn’t have a tone in your voice. “With all due respect, Allfather, they wouldn’t have the strength to fight me. I know how this sounds. It is dangerous and there is no guarantee I’ll succeed. I have to try.”

“Thor? What do you think? Another one of Loki’s tricks?”

You started to panic. Thor’s brow was knitted together. He was skeptical of the whole plan.

“Please. Don’t you have your own prophet? How can I prove to you that I’m not tricking you? What can I do?”

“Thor, call in Freyr. Let’s see if he can make sense of this.”

When Freyr saw you his face lit up. “Princess! How lovely to see you again. May I have a moment alone with the girl?”

The two men left the room. “You remember meeting me?” Your voice was trembling.

“Of course! Are you still so naive to think time is linear? This, my dear, is your destiny. The Norns give you the illusion of free will when really all of this was predetermined. You are here because you are meant to fight this war.”

“And Loki?”

He patted you on the head, “He’ll come around.”

When Odin and Thor came back in Freyr did most of the talking. Odin agreed to come with you to Vanaheim to meet with the king and investigate this threat. That was all you could ask for.

He invited you to stay for a couple of days to get acquainted with your new home. It wasn’t a request that much you knew. Thor was happy to show you around. He brought you to your chambers which were near Frigga’s. He showed you her gardens and told you to feel free to explore. There were some sheers on a small table. You slipped them in your pocket so you could take some clippings. She had everything you could possibly need to preform a spell. Literally any spell you could think of.

Thor followed you listening to you speak about the flowers and herbs that grew wild there. The more you spoke the more he understood why Loki chose you. You were so like their mother but with a jagged edge. Poised and gentle but you would definitely cut a bitch without a second thought.

Once you sat down for lunch he worked up the courage to ask about his brother.

“Y/N, can you tell me why my brother did this? Why Midgard specifically?”

You put down your fork and looked him directly in the eyes, “I think you know the answer to that question. Because you loved Earth. Because Earth loved you. You found Jane. He was jealous and angry and took it out on you. But it took him years to admit that he was really so deeply hurt by Odin’s admission.”

“But why not fight me directly? The people on Midgard were innocent.” He was beginning to get angry. You had to remember this just happened so the wounds were still fresh.

“He did fight you directly in New Mexico. When he turned the Bifrost onto Jotunheim he effectively killed that part of himself. The part he thought monstrous. When he let go of Odin’s staff on the bridge, he thought he would either die or live on in exile somewhere. He was ready to leave it behind. But Thanos found him. First he seduced him with power and revenge then he tortured him into subjugation. For a whole year he tortured him. Then, during the attack, he was controlled by the mind stone and The Other could hear him. That’s why he didn’t relent when you said you would bring him home.”

Thor was quiet. You could see tears in his eyes. He had never thought of his brother as a monster. Even when the glory of Loki’s destruction rained down from the heavens, he still loved his brother. He thought back on how Loki looked when he saw him before Chitauri invaded. He looked sick and bruised. He was having trouble standing. The amount of force it would take to mark a god’s skin was beyond comprehension. And now, all he knew was that Loki was recovering on Vanaheim. He had no idea just how close to death Loki was.

When you returned to Vanaheim you went directly to the Temple of the Vanir. Thor went right to his brother. He was outwardly shocked by Loki’s appearance.

“Have you come to throw me in the dungeon?” Loki held Thor’s eyes to attempt to intimidate him. It wasn’t working. He winced as he tried to sit up straighter. Thor would not dare help him in fear of injuring his already fragile pride.

“No, brother. I’m here to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“Then perhaps you’ll listen.” Loki looked away from him but raised his hand to signal him to carry on.

“If your quarrel was with me why not just fight me?”

“I wanted to prove to father that I can do something. He conquered realms. Why can’t I? That’s what kings do! It is my birthright!”

“Loki, I fear you and father are more alike than either of you care to admit. A king’s job is to unite the realms not to simply rule.”

Loki looked away in shame. “I would have been a good king. Both loved and feared. I would have built an empire.”

“And we all would have watched helpless as it consumed and destroyed you. Forget all of that. You have been given a second chance, brother. A chance with this woman who shares your spirit. Do not squander it lying about feeling sorry for yourself.”

Loki quirked his brow. He thought you had taken your one way trip back home after the way he treated you. Surely you weren’t still carrying on with your plan. The thing was no matter where you were on Vanaheim, he could feel you. Now he can’t. “She hasn’t gone?”

“No. She’s in the temple preparing for the stone. I’m going there myself. Why don’t you join me?”

“Funny. I can’t feel her.”

Thor gave him a weak smile and patted him on the shoulder. “Mother gave her free reign in her garden. No telling what manner of spell she conjured. I’m sure it’s for your own protection.”

You were a clever little witch. He would never say it aloud but he loved how quick you were. If you succeeded with the stones you two would be the most powerful couple in the known universe. You could probably dethrone Odin together. No army would be powerful enough to stop you. He stuck those thoughts into the back of his mind. You were uninterested in power in the way that Loki was. He could not understand your altruistic nature. All of this risk and for what? For people who didn’t know you existed. Though, if you didn’t care for others, he supposed you would have moved on by now and never given him a second chance. Perhaps now was the time to put such irrational things aside and support you.

——————————————————————

The Vanir worked quickly to construct a room strong enough to withstand a nuclear blast. You would have to crush the stone to release its full power. The only weapon strong enough for that was Mjölnir. If you were not worthy enough to wield it, Thor would have to be in the room with you. There was a real potential neither of you would make it out alive. First thing first, you had to lift the hammer.

The weight of Mjölnir would be of no concern if you were worthy. You stepped up to the handle and with effort you rocked it a little. Thor looked nervous. “You can do this, little sister.”

You took a deep breath, closed your eyes and on three you lifted again with an unburdened mind and a clear heart. The hammer was in your hands.

Gasps filled the room. No one dared utter a word. You let Mjölnir dangle from your wrist and made your way to Loki. “Lok, listen, if I don’t make it...”

“Shush, mortal. You will.”

You put your hand over his mouth, “If I don’t make it, please know that for one brief blissful moment, you were happy. We were happy. I love you.” He gripped your hand and opened his mouth to speak but you stopped him. “Don’t say it if it’s not true. Please.”

“Y/N, you will make it. I have faith in you.” You stared into each other’s eyes searchingly.

“You want to kiss me right now don’t you?”

He chuckled, “Desperately.”

You planted the softest most barely there kiss on his lips. He pulled you in to deepen the kiss. The tip of his tongue pressed against yours for just a second and then he released you. You pressed a knotted clipping of Yggdrasil into his palm and hung a tiny gold screw driver around his neck. When you walked away a gold bracelet adorned with emeralds dangled around your wrist. Around your left ring finger was a twin piece of knotted Yggdrasil. The screwdriver was warm to the touch and, if he listened closely, he swore he heard your heart beating.

You went into the room and slammed the metal shut and froze the lock. You held out your hand and forced the cube to crush with your magic. All that remained was the stone. This little blue stone that shined with the light of a million lightning strikes. It floated in the air. You circled it balancing Mjölnir on your shoulder. You plucked the blue candy button out of the air and placed it on the floor. As if it knew it was about to be set free, it released a high pitched whine. You raised the hammer into the air and with all of the force you could summon, you struck it. The room flooded with blue light so bright you couldn’t look directly at it. It sucked in its energy and then exploded outward sending shards of the jewel into your skin. It pushed you around the room like a pinball pinging you off of any surface it could find. You felt like your flesh was separating off of your bones and you were turning to liquid. All at once it went dark and dropped you to the ground.

——————————————————————

Loki paced the floor muttering to himself. Everyone else held their breathing straining to hear any sound. An utterance to let them know you’re alive. That’s when they heard the explosion. Blue light radiated from every exposed crack and nail hole. They heard your body careening off the walls and, with an unsettling thud, the room fell silent.

Loki rushed to the door trying to pry it open. The lock was jammed. Thor tried too but it wouldn’t budge. Njord yelled over their banging that the door was at least five inches thick. You wouldn’t hear them. He tried the key but it broke in the lock. Freyr used his seiðr to crush the door. When it fell away from it’s hinges, you emerged. Your hair had gone completely white and your eyes looked cloudy. You blinked a few times and they went back to normal.

You handed Thor his hammer and patted him on the shoulder. “Sister, speak to us. Are you well?”

You smiled and nodded. You took Loki’s hand in yours. Electricity crackled off of your fingertips. You smiled and opened a black void behind you for which to escape. In the blink of an eye you were on Asgard then Midgard then back to the temple. He laughed and clapped his hands, “You are a clever little witch aren’t you?”

“Princess...” Njord looked worried. You were unaware of your physical changes. You may have been a mutant but you were still a mortal. The stone could have severely injured you. “Your highness, please. We need to get you upstairs.”

“Relax, Njord. I’m perfectly fine. I feel amazing.” You were talking a mile a minute.

He kept insisting and you grew impatient. The more impatient you were the more your hands glowed and your eyes changed. “Njord, let’s give the Prince and Princess some space. She’ll come upstairs shortly.” Frigga ushered everyone out so you and Loki could sit in peace.

You couldn’t sit. Your skin felt too tight for your body. You needed to expel some energy. “Y/N, what’s going on in your head?”

“A million things. I’m wondering if I should go to south London right now since I know where the aether is. I’m wondering if the rest of my powers are amplified. I feel like I’m plugged into a massive battery, Lok. Maybe I can heal you quicker than Njord. Can I try?!”

He laughed and pulled you down into the chair next to him, “You’re like an excited puppy. Let’s go outside before you piddle on the floor. We can test your powers there.”

He lead you to an open space where you could work without fear of hurting someone. Your powers were indeed amplified. Your electricity was more like lightning. You grew a sapling into a knotted mature tree. You split yourself up into many clones and made it rain over the two of you. All of that should have tired you out but it did not. The last thing was to heal Loki. That was sure to drain you as broken as he was. You placed your hands on his solar plexus and went to work. Every ache and pain subsided every cut knitted itself back together. He felt reborn. You were settled.

You went back to the palace for dinner to talk strategy with Odin and the king. Since you and Loki were the only ones who ever faced Thanos, it was crucial that you were involved. You came to the conclusion that you needed numbers. You would divide the realms and enlist help even from the Dark Elves and Jötuns. You and Thor would go to Earth to speak with SWORD who handled all extra dimensional doings. Everyone agreed that Loki shouldn’t travel to Midgard just yet. You insisted the Avengers not be involved but, your X-men friends would be delighted to assist. At this point, they were more powerful anyway.

When you retired for the evening, Loki walked you back to your room. “May I ask you something?” His eyes were fixed on the floor he tried his hardest to sound confident. You lifted his chin so he would look at you. “Why couldn’t I sense you when you arrived? Why can’t I feel you now?”

“I guess I just wanted you to feel your own feelings for a change. I thought I might be overwhelming you.”

“I thought...” he laced his fingers in with yours, “I thought you were angry with me.”

“Oh I was. You’ve never raised your voice to me. It hurt. I didn’t want you to know how much.”

He didn’t know how much he missed you in the short time you were gone. He missed you right now and you were standing right in front of him. He kissed you on the corner of your mouth, “I’m sorry to have raised my voice. I’m sorry I’m hurting you. I wish I could love you as you love me. I am trying, Pet.”

“Lok, you can’t fall in love with someone in such a short period. We have time.” You kissed him gently and slipped into your room.

He stayed outside of your chambers for a while with his head pressed against the door. Love was not something he gave freely. He wished things were different. He wished his future self never helped Thor. He wished he would know the happiness you spoke of. One day he would. For now he would keep on disappointing you.

——————————————————————

The next morning you woke up and surveyed the clothing you were gifted. Nothing screamed Midgard 2012 to you. You waved your hand over your body and came up with something more south London and less Stratford Upon Avon. Satisfied with your look you set out to Loki’s chambers.

You knocked but he didn’t answer. Once more and a giggling flustered chamber maid opened. She straitened up when she saw your face and readjusted her apron straps. “Princess!” she yelped. “Apologies. Prince Loki should be along shortly.”

“You know what? Tell him don’t bother.”

She called after you but you didn’t turn around. You kept your spine straight and let your head high. Your heels clacked loudly as you stomped through the halls with a walk that would make Naomi Campbell proud.

Thor was coming out of his room and smiled when he saw you, “Good morning, sister! You’re looking well.”

“Are you ready to go? I don’t think it’s wise for Loki to show his face on earth.”

Thor was pretty daft when it came to the whims of the fairer sex but your face was speaking loud and clear. You held his hand and landed in a warehouse in London. You searched high and low but struck out.

“What exactly are we looking for?”

“A void filled with a red mist.”

“And you are certain it’s here?”

“This is where Jane found it, yes.”

“Is this around the time she found it. Maybe it’s not here yet.”

“No, it’s here. I can feel it. I just have to ah! It’s here.”

He swung Mjölnir and the wall crumbled. You stuck your hand in and he grabbed you.

“Wait. Is this wise? I feel like one of the Vanir should be with you or at least Loki. If anything goes wrong I won’t know how to help you.”

“Your brother is more interested in his chamber maids than saving the universe. If anything goes wrong, call for Heimdall.”

“Did you catch him with someone else? It’s very common in royal marriages...”

The Aether called to you and effectively drowned him out. While he prattled on you put your arm through the wall and let it take you. It meshed with the space stone because they were meant to be together. Their energies lifted you up off the ground and light poured out your eyes mouth and fingers. You collapsed back down where Thor caught you. He shook you but you were unable to focus. You put your fingers to your mouth and pulled away with crimson soaked tips. Thor scooped you into his arms cursing you and then raised Mjölnir to call Heimdall. Just then you stopped him.

“No. No, I’m fine. Don’t call him.”

“But, sister.”

“No. Put me down.” He did as he was told and carefully set you on your feet. You smoothed your hair and fixed your clothes. With a flourish all of the blood vanished.

“Come on. Let’s go see Jane.”

“You are out of your mind. I have to get you back to Njord.”

“Nonsense. I have to see Dr. Selvig to fix what my darling husband broke. And you, brother, need to see Jane. You miss her. I want you to be happy. She needs to be happy. Just take her to lunch.”

He agreed but insisted you take more traditional transportation rather than using your powers. You found the nearest train station and took the tube to Jane’s office. This Jane was a lot less together than the Jane you knew. She was so stunned to see Thor at her door that she could barely speak.

You introduced yourself as Loki’s wife but assured her your marriage was less gothic romance and more Charles and Di. A reference that Thor didn’t understand but Jane did perfectly. She brought you to Dr. Selvig who was speaking nonsensically. He seemed to recognize you right away. Though you had not yet met he knew the energy that was inside you. You placed your hands on either side of his head and pulled the power of the space stone out of him. He was weak but thinking for himself.

You practically pushed the happy couple out of the door to have lunch on you. You conjured a credit card an an id for Thor. You said you had business to attend to.

Darcy offered to give you a ride which you happily accepted. Had her drop you in front of Claridge's, a very posh hotel in Hyde Park, where you intended to relax and partake in retail therapy. Magically their best room was available for the evening. You held your breath when they ran your card. You had no idea if it would work. Luckily it did. The porter showed you to your room. You asked for a bottle of single malt and a glass to be left in the seating area. You kicked off your shoes and started to unbutton your blouse when you heard a man clear his throat.

You had not immediately seen Mobius M. Mobius when you entered. Funny, neither did the porter. Electricity crackled in your fingers and, as you raised them to strike, he walked toward you. “Holster those weapons, Mrs. Laufeyson. Or is it Odinson? Either way. I’m not here to hurt you. Just to talk.”

“Do you drink scotch?”

#loki laufeyson #loki x reader #marvel #marvel witches #mcu x reader #loki angst #loki of jotunheim #loki x you #loki odinson #infinity stones #thanos #TVA #mobius m mobius

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calitraditionalism · 3 years

Text

Arc Three: Chapter Five

(AO3 counterpart here.)

“Brilliant turnout, isn’t it?”

Greyleaf forced a smile and looked at the massive dark brown tom beside him. “I didn’t know Coteries could get this large.”

“You saying you’ve never been to one of these?” Pebblestar, a tall grey tom was on Greyleaf’s other side. He tilted his head a little, ears slightly hanging instead of standing straight.

Greyleaf turned to him now. “Not yet. This is my first.”

“Well, you’ll have a grand time, lad.” Sealstar gave him what would be a gently pat on the back among the Plage; for Greyleaf, he barely managed to stay upright. “Go on and find your family. I’m going to see what the Magpies have this time. Even the warriors I’ve brought with me haven’t seen their wares before.”

“You do that,” Pebblestar said, careless as anything.

Sealstar immediately trotted off, his pawsteps audible over the chatter of the collected cats.

Greyleaf stood as straight as he could without lifting his front feet off of the ground, searching. The crowd was thick and multicolored. Finding a red-brown molly was not going to be easy, it seemed. He could see his brother talking to a huge white cat, which amazed him, given Mistface’s constant dismissal of anyone outside of his family. He started forward, but Pebblestar cleared his throat.

“You really think Cedarstar will be alright without you?” he said. “She was rather…loopy, when we left.”

“Oh-“ Greyleaf made some noise that was supposed to be a confident chuckle and failed miserably at its job. “Fever can do that. That medicine will keep her steady until I return. I won’t be staying long, anyway.”

Not if I don’t find her first.

Pebblestar’s mournful face looked even more troubled than usual. “I just worry for the girl. She’s a bit of a fool sometimes.” He offered a faint smile. “But I trust your intuition. You’re brighter than half of my comrades, and we all know it. StarClan gave you a gift.”

Greyleaf’s stomach heaved. He tried to look grateful for the compliment. “Thank you. I’m going to find my brother.”

Pebblestar dismissed him with a nod and Greyleaf managed to not hurry away from the conversation. He carefully made his way through the crowd, always watching for that telltale roan, but he met with no one except Mistface. He was more stressed than usual when a Hillock molly named Morningsky tried to push her very uncomfortable daughter on him as a seer for the leaders – not just because someone was talking to him, but because he was still no closer to finding that ‘her’. Relief rushed through his body as a story was announced and the crowd gathered around to watch the performers. He climbed into a tree with his brother, the apprentice and white tom, scanning the crowd as he could see them.

The story of the Runagate troubled him, truthfully. He couldn’t place a word on why, but as the white molly slithered out her words with a devil’s charisma, something nagged at the back of his head. He thought of the shadows.

Then his eyes roamed, reached the far side of the crowd. They landed on her.

A tall red-brown molly. Thin and with exhausted eyes.

Greyleaf did not hear the rest of the story. He stared at her as if looking away would make her vanish (and he was secretly afraid it would). He barely even registered the applause when the story concluded, hardly noticed climbing down the tree. He left his brother without a word, paws pulled straight to her. He pushed past cats without a second thought.

When he emerged from the crowd, he expected to be nervous to be right in front of her, anxious when she looked his way. He wasn’t.

“Hey,” he said.

The molly blinked. Then she almost flinched and her mouth dropped a little.

“…It’s you,” she nearly whispered.

A grin, shaky with relief, spread across Greyleaf’s face. “It’s me.”

The molly looked around, then motioned with her head and stood up. Greyleaf followed her to a shaded spot, thankful that no one else was close by.

“They told me about you,” she said, sitting down. “You’re…”

“Greyleaf.” He mirrored her. “And you’re…”

“Redheart.”

“I thought so.” Greyleaf exhaled the tension out of his body, and though he wasn’t grinning anymore, he felt that joy all the same. “I heard you were coming here. I had to see you. We never got to talk, but-“

“I know.” Redheart was taller than him, but she was sitting in a way that their eyes met at the same level. Respectful. Friendly. “You’ve seen them, then. They spoke with you. The…” She trailed off, tail pointing at the white molly who had played the Runagate.

Greyleaf blinked. “I was told by the leaders about you. But I…I saw that shadow. When we first met. Only once, though, if that’s who you mean.”

“That’s them.” Redheart wasn’t precisely smiling, but glee radiated off of her. “Greyleaf, you have no idea what this means to me. I haven’t been able to talk about this with anyone.”

“Neither have I.” Greyleaf’s tail tapped the ground, releasing a little bit of his own colorful swirl of emotions. “It’s- I don’t even know what to do with it. With this knowledge. I’ve had it all my life.”

Redheart leaned a little closer, dropping her voice low. “I’ve had it since I was an apprentice. I have nightmares, all the time. I always see it.”

“Same here.” Greyleaf felt that familiar nighttime horror clutch his heart, but his paws kneaded eagerly and he felt himself sit with something akin to confidence. He wouldn’t know if it was for sure, but it felt like it. “It’s just always been that way. I don’t know why.”

“Do you know what it is?” That conspiratorial tone did not quite fit her regal appearance.

Greyleaf looked around himself, just to be sure, and whispered, “They said it was StarClan. Or something pretending to be it. It’s eaten in front of me, I know that much.” A bubble of entirely inappropriate, kitlike excitement swelled in his chest. “What do you know?”

“Everything. It’s been here for generations. It’s got control over the entire Territory and all its inhabitants.” Redheart’s eyes were large enough that he could barely see a ring of white around them. “I’ve heard all of it. It’s…”

She spoke quickly, stare intense and almost wild, like everything was trying to force itself out of her throat at once and it was causing her pain. The more Greyleaf heard, the more he sat back a little, straightened, felt his expression go numb. He had felt the horror when he saw the thing himself; the actual knowledge of its workings made it so much worse that a part of him was shutting down so he could absorb it without fleeing or crying out.

“I don’t know what we can do about it on its own,” Redheart said at last, “but I have a plan. I want to get everyone out of the Territory as fast as possible. I need your help to do it. I can’t do this alone. You can quit with the leaders and come to Clast with me, and we can spread the word and get cats out in groups. If we all go, if we separate, it won’t have anything to eat. It might die.” Her gaze burned like fire. “We can let it starve, and then our home is safe again, and we can all come back.”

Greyleaf didn’t say anything. Multiple voices in his head were shouting over each other, trying to make themselves heard. One screamed that they had it so good now, that taking everyone away from this paradise would guarantee death, and maybe it would get them anyway. Another begged him to agree, to abandon his post and start collecting cats to bring out of this cursed place. Yet more demanded a promise that everything she said was true and that she wasn’t just saying all of this out of a demented mind. There was an overhead declaration, speaking over all the others, that she didn't need his help. He would be useless. He was a healer, not a deputy, not someone with charisma. He wouldn't be able to do anything.

He knew it wasn't that kind of help she needed. She couldn't go back to living life with all of this weight alone.

Neither could he, really.

He shut his eyes and took a breath, barely able to look back at that intense stare. “I don’t know if it can be done. If there’s a chance, I…”

A sudden feeling of being watched pinpricked the back of his head. He looked sidelong and saw Mistface observing him with a very curious, puzzled expression.

“I better go,” he said, finally speaking at a normal volume. “My brother’s…”

Redheart immediately corrected her posture. Instantly, her face was calm and stern, like a proper deputy. Greyleaf knew those tired eyes were just barely containing her own terror and desperation.

“Consider it,” she said. “Just consider it.”

She got up and walked away before Greyleaf could say anything.

---

“Mama’s dyin’.”

That was all Greyleaf needed to hear.

---

“You’ve got a visitor, Redheart.” The black-and-white molly he thought was called Peregrinefang stepped away from the house and trotted off, giving Greyleaf room to stand in the entrance and be observed.

Redheart, half asleep, cracked one eye. Then both shot wide open and she got to her feet.

Greyleaf weakly smiled. “So when do we start?”

#warrior cats #steorra #arc three #chapter #chapter five #greyleaf #redheart #sealstar #pebblestar #mistface

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365days365movies · 3 years

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May 10, 2021: Blade Runner 2049 (2017) (Recap: Part Two)

Said I’d talk about artificial humans in sci-fi, so...

There are a HELL of a lot of examples of artificial humans in science-fiction, as well as the ethical and philosophical concepts that their existence raises. Now, your definition of “artificial” may differ from medium to medium. At its base form, these are humans that are not born, but made. I’ll be talking fleshy organic humans, not robotic ones. The most common of these is, of course, clones.

A clone, strictly speaking, is a genetically identical copy of a pre-existing organism, in this case a human. While this isn’t technology we’ve applied to humans as of yet (due to the NUMEROUS ethical problems and questions), we have done so with animals, mostly sheep and cats. It’s actually a good way to de-extinct certain species, and we’ve already done experiments with that. Of course...that has its own concerns.

Keeping up the Jurassic Park reference streak! Anyway...

There are a FUCKTON of examples of clones in science-fiction, but since I’m a massive comic book nerd, I’ll use Superboy. The genetic combination of Superman and Lex Luthor, Conner Kent is one of the most prominent clone superheroes. He’s not the only clone of Superman, of course. He’s not even my favorite clone of Superman, to be honest...

Bizarro am the worst. ME WILL LIVE ON THAT HILL.

Oh, and let’s not forget THE most prominent artificial human in comic books PERIOD. I don’t care what her origin in the movies is, that’s never been my favorite version of Wonder Woman. Making her a demigod robs her of something important, in my opinion.

...Should I make a comic book blog? Shit, thinkin’ about it.

OK, before I do that, these are just my favorite examples. Fact is, there are FAR too many examples of artificial humans to go into, whether they’re built, grown, sculpted, conjured, or a chemical reaction with an extra ingredient in the concoction.

And look, I could go on all day about this, but we got a long-ass movie to get back to. SO, lets jump back in. Part One is here!

Recap (2/2)

Understandably exhausted, K returns home, confused and conflicted. However, he’s greeted with a surprise from Joi: a prostitute! Namely, this is Mariette (Mackenzie Davis), one of the girls who approached him earlier. Joi’s called her here in order to be “real” for K, the effect is impressive, if somewhat...off-putting. Still, while K obviously didn’t need this to be happy with their relationship, Joi might, and Mariette’s all on board.

And it doesn’t take K terrible long to get on board, either. As both Mariette and Joi strip, it makes me wonder...how much does this subscription service for Joi cost. There’s no goddamn way this is free, right? Like, how exclusive IS this AI? And they cut from that scene to a Joi commercial, where we hear that Joi becomes anything you want her to be, and does anything you want her to do. But something tells me that...well, that it’s not quite so simple.

Once the night is over, Joi tells Mariette to leave, and not nicely either. Mariette leaves, rebuking her on the way out as well. K, meanwhile, knows that the Blade Runners will soon be coming after him. He’ll be going on the run, and Joi wants to go with him. And so, they put her inside of a remote device, while deleting her information from the main apartment console. This gets the attention of Luv, who head over to the apartment to figure out what’s going on.

K goes to Doc Badger (Barkhad Adbi), who analyzes the horse for him. It’s discovered that old radiation can be found there, and that amount and kind of radiation can only be found in areas where a dirty bomb has been set off. This would be in the desolate and weird-ass ruins of Las Vegas. While nobody lives there at this point, K and Joi go to check it out.

An IMMENSELY frustrated Luv, unaware of K’s discovery about himself, goes to confront Joshi about K’s whereabouts. Luv berates her for being afraid of change, and tells her that she “can’t fend off the tide with a broom”. Which is a great line. However, as Joshi is no use to her at this point, Luv just straight up kills her. Which, I’m sure, will go over well with the whole “Replicants aren’t dangerous” thing.

Meanwhile, in Vegas...shit is WEIRD. First off all, the desolate wasteland is full of statues of giant sexy wimmin, and I mean GIANT statues. Beneath one of them is a series of beehives, which K goes into to get a hand of beeeees. After that, he goes into an abandoned hotel/casino, rigged with tripwires and booby traps. OK. What.

So, somebody’s using this place as a hideaway, despite the entire city being destroyed by a dirty bomb, and probably extremely radioactive. K searches around and finds it empty. He begins to play a piano, hoping to draw someone out. He ends up drawing out a dog, as well as the inhabitant of the hotel.

Rick Deckard (Harrison Ford), baby! Quoting Stevenson’s Treasure Island and holding K up at gunpoint with dog at side is the original Blade Runner himself, Rick Fucking Deckard. God, I love this. Deckard hunts K down throughout the casino, where we see some trippy holograms, and the future of Vegas stageshows (probably).

The two fight, but eventually call a truce and decide to get a drink at the bar. K gets to it pretty quickly, and confronts Deckard on his potential child with Rachael. He confirms that Rachael was indeed pregnant by him, but he had never met his child. Which was the plan, to be fair. He wanted their child to be protected, not hunted down and eventually dissected.

Sometimes, to love someone...you gotta be a stranger.

To an old Frank Sinatra song, a forlorn K (now calling himself “Joe”) looks around, and sees carved wooden animals that resemble the horse that’s haunted his life and memories so much by this point. Which makes sense, considering the foil unicorn from the previous film. Neat little tie-in there.

But paradise is not all it’s cracked up to be, as someone soon comes to find both K and Deckard, despite the fact that K came alone. Although, now that I think about it, Joi may not be one that you can truly trust. Deckard and K try to escape their pursuers, but are caught pretty quickly. In the process, K is injured, but manages to get up in order to fight back. However, this is Luv with these people, and she beats K down EASILY. Turns out that Luv is actually an enforcer, rather than just a secretary. And when Joi awakens from K’s device to ask her to stop, well...she kills the device, and she kills K. In the process, she also takes Deckard away, leaving K behind. Fuck.

K wakes up, only to discover Mariette standing over him in the Las Vegas wasteland. She takes care of him as he wakes up, also stitching up with wounds from the explosion. She tells K to trust her, as well as her compatriots. One of them is the hooded woman from earlier, a Replicant named Freysa (Hiam Abbass). An old friend of Sapper’s she saw the delivery of the child, the “miracle”, and also hid the child away, as it was a symbol that the Replicants are more than just slave, that they are their own masters.

Freysa is building a revolution in order to free the Replicants once and for all. And I’m hard-pressed to disagree with their cause, not gonna lie. However, this comes at a price. In order to prevent Wallace from killing the cause, K must prevent Deckard from leading them to Freysa. They must do what they can until they can reveal the child to the world. For she will be their leader.

Fuck.

Understandably COMPLETELY crushed at this revelation, and more confused than ever, K collapses. Freysa tells him that they ALL wish they were the one, and they all believe. It’s at this point, that K realizes exactly who the Hybrid is: Dr. Ana Stelline. The horse from earlier, it turns out, did in fact belong to her, and she planted her childhood memory with the horse in K’s mind as a Replicant. Damn. DAMN! That’s why the memory moved her so: because it was hers.

Meanwhile, Deckard awakens to a separate nightmare: Jared Leto telling him how he feels about him. After all, Deckard helped to create the first Replicant-human hybrid. He asks him for his help in obtaining the child, so that the key of Replicant reproduction can be further unlocked. And he proceeds in convincing Deckard by playing audio of Rachael and his first meeting (from the first film, of course).

Niander fucks with him further, by suggesting Deckard was summoned all those years ago specifically to fall in love with Rachael in order to father a child with her. But despite all of this, Deckard refuses to give up any of his information. And so, Niander pulls out his ace-in-the-hole...and it’s a real shitty thing to do to a man in mourning.

Damn. Dude rebuilt Rachael, tries to tempt Deckard with her, FAILS, then lets Luv shoot her in the head. Fucking power move, and fuck Niander for playing it. Dude is a DICK. Meanwhile. that one visual from every single ad of this movie is happening, and I can FINALLY use one of the 8000 GIFs of it, goddamn.

Not gonna lie, it’s an iconic appearance, so I get why it’s so famous. Anyway, K considers a suicidal option, now that he knows the truth. However, before we get to see the final decision, we get to see Deckard being taken back to LA for interrogation by Wallace. However, to prevent him from potentially leading Wallace to the secret of Ana Stelline, K suddenly appears, opening fire on their ship.

The craft is downed, and K exits the car to engage in a firefight with Luv. He appears to win, but Luv isn’t killed once she’s shot. The two have a fistfight out in the rain, and Deckard waits for water to slowly kill the craft that he’s still inside of.

As expected, Luv handles herself well, and despite a number of close calls, she JUST. WILL. NOT. DIE. Damn, she’s resilient. However, despite K, Luv, and Deckard all nearly drowning in an INTENSE fight between the Replicants, an enraged and crazed Luv finally eventually drowns, ending her threat for good.

K saves Deckard from the sinking ship, and agrees to stage his death, allowing him to meet his daughter for the first time. Once at her facility, K returns Deckard’s horse to him, knowing that it was a gift from him. He tells Deckard that his best memories all come from her, implying that this makes him similar to Deckard’s son, which he picks up on when he asks if he’s OK.

Deckard goes to meet his daughter, and K hangs out on the stairs outside. He feels the snow fall on his hand, and he just...watches it all fall around him. He sits, and he watches it all. And meanwhile, Deckard meets his daughter for the first time.

...Can I just say...GODDAMN!

That movie was absolutely stellar, and it’s definitely landing in the high ‘90s for me, calling it now. I...wow. Seriously. Amazing.

See you in the Review!

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pamphletstoinspire · 4 years

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July, The Month Dedicated to the Most Precious Blood

THE SIXTEEN CARMELITE MARTYRS OF COMPIEGNE

The French Revolution reveals the titanic struggle between good and evil. During the terror, over 40,000 Frenchmen were executed just for holding fast to the Catholic Faith and objecting to the worst excesses of the Committee of Public Safety. The blood lost in the years of 1792-1794 staggers the imagination even in the retelling and the campaign against the Church was as diabolical as it was cruel.

Contemplative religious communities had been among the first targets of the fury of the French Revolution against the Catholic Church. Less than a year from May 1789 when the Revolution began with the meeting of the Estates-General, these communities had been required by law to disband. But many of them continued in being, in hiding. Among these were the community of the Carmelite nuns of Compiegne, in northeastern France not far from Paris -- the fifty-third convent in France of the Carmelite sisters who followed the reform of St. Teresa of Avila, founded in 1641, noted throughout its history for fidelity and fervor. Their convent was raided in August 1790, all the property of the sisters was seized by the government, and they were forced to discard their habits and leave their house. They divided into four groups which found lodging in four different houses all near the same church in Compiegne, and for several years they were to a large extent able to continue their religious life in secret. But the intensified surveillance and searches of the "Great Terror" revealed their secret, and in June 1794 most of them were arrested and imprisoned.

They had expected this; indeed, they had prayed for it. At some time during the summer of 1792, very likely just after the events of August 10 of that year that marked the descent into the true deeps of the Revolution, their prioress, Madeleine Lidoine, whose name in religion was Teresa in honor of the founder of their order, by all accounts a charming perceptive, and highly intelligent woman, had foreseen much of what was to come. At Easter of 1792, she told her community that, while looking through the archives she had found the account of a dream a Carmelite had in 1693. In that dream, the Sister saw the whole Community, with the exception of 2 or 3 Sisters, in glory and called to follow the Lamb. In the mind of the Prioress, this meant martyrdom and might well be a prophetic announcement of their fate.

Mother Teresa had said to her sisters: "Having meditated much on this subject, I have thought of making an act of consecration by which the Community would offer itself as a sacrifice to appease the anger of God, so that the divine peace of His Dear Son would be brought into the world, returned to the Church and the state." The sisters discussed her proposal and all agreed to it but the two oldest, who were hesitant. But when the news of the September massacres came, mingling glorious martyrdom with apostasy, these two sisters made their choice, joining their commitment to that of the rest of the community. All made their offering; it was to be accepted.

After their lodgings were invaded again in June, their devotional objects shattered and their tabernacle trampled underfoot by a Revolutionary who told them that their place of worship should be transformed into a dog kennel, the Carmelite sisters were taken to the Conciergerie prison, where so many of the leading victims of the guillotine had been held during their last days on earth. There they composed a canticle for their martyrdom, to be sung to the familiar tune of the Marseillaise. The original still exists, written in pencil and given to one of their fellow prisoners, a lay woman who survived.

Give over our hearts to joy, the day of glory has arrived, Far from us all weakness, seeing the standard come; We prepare for the victory, we all march to the true conquest, Under the flag of the dying God we run, we all seek the glory; Rekindle our ardor, our bodies are the Lord's, We climb, we climb the scaffold and give ourselves back to the Victor.

O happiness ever desired for Catholics of France, To follow the wondrous road Already marked out so often by the martyrs toward their suffering, After Jesus with the King, we show our faith to Christians, We adore a God of justice; as the fervent priest, the constant faithful, Seal, seal with all their blood faith in the dying God....

Holy Virgin, our model, August queen of martyrs, deign to strengthen our zeal And purify our desires, protect France even yet, help; us mount to Heaven, Make us feel even in these places, the effects of your power. Sustain your children, Submissive, obedient, dying, dying with Jesus and in our King believing.

On July 17 the sixteen sisters were brought before Fouquier-Tinville. All cases were now being disposed of within twenty-four hours as Robespierre had wished; theirs was no exception. They were charged with having received arms for the emigres; their prioress, Sister Teresa, answered by holding up a crucifix.

"Here are the only arms that we have ever had in our house."

They were charged with possessing an altar-cloth with designs honoring the old monarchy (perhaps the fleur-de-lis) and were asked to deny any attachment to the royal family. Sister Teresa responded: "If that is a crime, we are all guilty of it; you can never tear out of our hearts the attachment for Louis XVI and his family. Your laws cannot prohibit feeling; they cannot extend their empire to the affections of the soul; God alone has the right to judge them." They were charged with corresponding with priests forced to leave the country because they would not take the constitutional oath; they freely admitted this. Finally they were charged with the catchall indictment by which any serious Catholic in France could be guillotined during the Terror: "fanaticism." Sister Henriette, who had been Gabrielle de Croissy, challenged Fouguier-Tinvile to his face:

"Citizen, it is your duty to respond to the request of one condemned; I call upon you to answer us and to tell us just what you mean by the word 'fanatic.'"

"I mean," snapped the Public Prosecutor of the Terror, "your attachment to your childish beliefs and your silly religious practices."

"Let us rejoice, my dear Mother and Sisters, in the joy of the Lord," said Sister Henriette, "that we shall die for our holy religion, our faith, our confidence in the Holy Roman Catholic Church."

While in prison, they asked and were granted permission to wash their clothes. As they had only one set of lay clothes, they put on their religious habit and set to the task. Providentially, the revolutionaries picked that "wash day" for their transfer to Paris. As their clothes were soaking wet, the Carmelites left for Paris wearing their "outlawed" religious habit. They celebrated the feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel in prison, wondering whether they would die that day.

It was only the next day they went to the guillotine. The journey in the carts took more than an hour. All the way the Carmelite sisters sang: the "Miserere," "Salve Regina," and "Te Deum." Beholding them, a total silence fell on the raucous, brutal crowd, most of them cheapened and hardened by day after day of the spectacle of public slaughter. At the foot of the towering killing machine, their eyes raised to Heaven, the sisters sang "Veni Creator Spiritus." One by one, they renewed their religious vows. They pardoned their executioners. One observer cried out: "Look at them and see if they do not have the air of angels! By my faith, if these women did not all go straight to Paradise, then no one is there!"

Sister Teresa, their prioress, requested and obtained permission to go last under the knife. The youngest, Sister Constance, went first. She climbed the steps of the guillotine "With the air of a queen going to receive her crown," singing Laudate Dominum omnes gentes, "all peoples praise the Lord." She placed her head in the position for death without allowing the executioner to touch her. Each sister followed her example, those remaining singing likewise with each, until only the prioress was left, holding in her hand a small figure of the Blessed Virgin Mary. The killing of each martyr required about two minutes. It was about eight o'clock in the evening, still bright at midsummer. During the whole time the profound silence of the crowd about the guillotine endured unbroken.

Two years before when the horror began, the Carmelite community at Compiegne had offered itself as a holocaust, that peace might be restored to France and the Church.

The return of full peace was still twenty-one years in the future. But the Reign of Terror had only ten days left to run.

Years of war, oppression and persecution were yet to come, but the mass official killing in the public squares of Paris was about to end. The Cross had vanquished the guillotine. These sixteen holy Carmelite nuns have all been beatified by our Holy Father, the Pope, [Pope St. Pius X, 27 May 1906] which is the last step before canonization.

Blessed Carmelites of Compiegne, pray for us!

#blessed carmelites of compiegne

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