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frostedfaves · 4 years

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Tactical Village

Pairing: Jake Peralta x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N gets a little jealous on Tactical Village Day. Rewrite of 1x19.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: mentions of gun use

Tactical Village Day. A national holiday at the nine-nine, and everyone had a different reason for celebrating. Rosa was out for blood, simply because it was in her nature to be. Terry had the stress of raising twins locked, loaded and ready to be released. Amy wanted to prove her skill level to the captain and check out the new handguns (but good luck getting her to admit her obsession with 'finger feel'). Jake wanted "Coolest Kill" and a children's karate trophy. Truth be told, all I wanted this year was to want Jake less.

It's exhausting being friends with the person you're hiding your feelings from, even more so when his best friend Charles thinks everyone is in love with Jake and overthinks all of our interactions. I'd fully planned to spend the day perfecting my tactical skills while listening to Jake explain the extensive backstory of his character as a friend. Then fate decided to throw a monkey wrench into that plan, and unfortunately for me, she was attractive.

"I'm so sorry," Jake awkwardly laughed, letting go of her arms after saving her from falling. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine! I...wait, Peralta? Jake Peralta, hi! How have you been?" I couldn't fight the rolling of my eyes as she flipped her hair over her shoulder with a tilt of her head, grinning.

"I've been good, yeah!" He noticed her eyes flicker over to me and turned to introduce me. "Y/N, this is Nikki Becker. Nikki, this is Y/N L/N, my friend and fellow detective from the nine-nine."

"Pleased to meet you, Y/N." She shook my hand lightly before practically tossing it aside, never once taking her eyes off Jake. "I'm so glad we found each other again! We were best friends in the academy."

I glared at her as my arms found their way across my chest, locking together. "I thought Rosa was your academy BFF, Jake—"

"People can have more than one best friend," she quickly cut in, finally looking at me with a sickly sweet smile and eyes that could kill if they'd given us real bullets.

"Sure." I turned and walked over to where Rosa stood, smirking as I approached her. "Don't say anything," I quickly mumbled as I huffed out a frustrated breath and she chuckled.

"Why not? You were clearly winning."

"What?" I saw her eyes trained on something else and followed them to see Jake joining us.

"Hey, Y/N! Ready to check out those handguns now?" Before I could respond, we were also joined by Nikki.

"Jakey! They have this new gun that attacks through sound that's supposed to be really accurate. Come check it out with me!" she insisted, tugging on his arm as he looked to me with a raised eyebrow.

"It's fine, I'll go with Rosa." I held a smile as he finally let her drag him away until they were completely out of my sight, turning to Rosa with a sigh. "Let's not even talk about it. I don't want Charles to hear."

"He's gone to get a 'cafe con leche', so we've got about ten minutes. But if you really don't wanna talk about it we can draw some hair on the targets, grab some brand new weapons, and pretend we're damaging the vocal chords that produce that stupid voice of hers." I laughed and followed her outside.

The rest of our field testing and target practicing time went by smoothly...for Nikki, at least. She spent most of the time latched onto Jake like a long-haired leech while I spent my time shooting targets until they were covered with thick layers of paint, constantly running out of bullets every time I heard her vomit inducing giggle.

"Dude, are you alright?" Amy questioned when I slammed down an empty gun and reached for another one.

"Perfectly fine, Ames," I replied without looking at her as I shot five straight bullets into the poor target's head.

"Okay, I think you've had enough practice." She turned the safety on and took the gun from my hands, setting it back on the table I got it from. "What's going on with you?"

I parted my lips to answer her, quickly closing them again and turning to glare at giggly Nikki and oblivious Jake as he showed her how to handle a new assault rifle. Feeling sick to my stomach, I faced Amy again and tried hard to paint on a smile that she wasn't buying.

"Why don't you just save his and what's-her-face's time and tell him how you feel?"

I sputtered out a laugh. "Tell him how I—what? You're hilarious. No, I've decided to take a page from Rosa's book. Wait until I'm on my deathbed and then tell him how I feel...or felt. I don't know who I'm gonna like by then. Point is I can't get rejected when I'm dead."

"Y/N, that's ridiculous! You're really going to risk what could be the start of a great relationship? You and Jake talk about everything."

"This is different. There's a very real possibility that telling him how I feel could ruin the whole friendship and I'm just not ready for that, okay?"

She sighed. "Alright, I get it. But at least try to act like you're not imagining that girl's face every time you shoot a weapon." She gave me a quick pat on the shoulder and moved over a bit to work on her own target.

"No promises," I told her as I picked up the gun she took from me earlier.

We were now in our training simulation. Sneaky little Amy insisted that she should do perimeter security with Rosa and Charles because she thinks we would "kill at being the assault team, no pun intended". I think it was just her way of saying "tell Jake how you feel".

Luckily Jake was too involved with perfecting Rex Buckingham in all of his signature move and catchphrase glory to give me a chance to bring up any kind of feelings to him. I was especially thankful I had my back to him when he told me some little fact Nikki told him earlier, because I simply couldn't hide my grimace at the mere mention of her name.

We'd just approached the end of the hallway when shots rang out before I could react. I eyed the paint in my hair and on the wall by my head, frozen in place as Jake took the perp down.

"No one shoots a mate when Rex is around," he proudly stated in his accent with a grin, instantly letting it fall when he turned to me. "Hey, are you okay?"

I closed my eyes tightly before opening them and meeting his. "Okay, so I was going to save this for my deathbed someday but apparently I can die randomly in a hallway. So here goes. I like you. I have for a really long time and it sucks being friends with you and not being able to say anything because I don't want to ruin what we already have. But it sucks even more not being able to have more with you and definitely watching you and clingy Nikki together sucked the most."

He looked at me for a second with an unreadable expression, about to respond just as he was cut off by our radios.

"Peralta, L/N. Hostages in room 409, armed suspects."

"We'll talk later," he assured me with a small smile as he took off down the hall, and I couldn't tell if I should be worried or relieved.

The excitement of a perfect run and setting the course record along with the odd situation of Jake using Scully's move kept the squad occupied all the way to Shaw's. I hadn't had a moment alone with him since my big hallway confession and I only grew more anxious with time.

"Three shots of Jack Daniels, please." I kept my eyes on the liquor bottles as I waited for the bartender to come back, aware of Amy coming to sit next to me.

"Celebrating or drowning your problems?" she joked and I simply rolled my eyes at her. "Okay I'm sorry for setting you up like that but I just didn't want to see you struggle so much."

"Well good news for you. I don't think I'll be able to struggle anymore if Jake never talks to me ever again. I've officially scared him off."

"I promise you haven't." I froze in place again as he slid onto the stool on my left. "Hey Santiago, can we get a moment alone?" He waited until Amy disappeared before speaking again. "About what you said earlier—"

"Jake, it's okay. Whether you wanna keep being friends with me or if knowing I like you is too much to handle, it's okay. Really. Whatever you decide, I'll find some way to—"

Warm lips landed on mine and I closed my eyes instantly. I waited until his arms wrapped around my waist and found a place to rest my hands on, wanting to confirm that I wasn't imagining a second of this. My eyes fell open again when he pulled away, a little wider this time because I was still slightly doubting what this means.

"I know that probably wasn't the clearest answer so I'll say this. I'm sorry that I let Nikki ruin what was supposed to be a fun time for us, but I can't say I regret it because she helped me find out something I was too scared to ask you on my own." He smiled and pushed his fingers through my left hand. "I'm also really glad you didn't wait till your deathbed to tell me because I would prefer to start being your boyfriend now."

I pulled my hand away and lightly shoved his shoulder. "Take me on a date first, clingy." I grinned and he laughed, quickly handing over some cash to the bartender and holding up one of the shots.

"To the start of something more."

I tapped my glass to his. "To something more."

"To something more," Charles added, grabbing the third shot and tapping it to ours. He downed the drink and pulled us both into a hug before we could react. "I can't wait to babysit your children."

Jake and I made eye contact and nodded, ducking out of the hug simultaneously and locking hands as we walked off. When we were far enough away, we toasted again and drank, staring at each other with possibilities of the future reflecting in our eyes.

#queue #jake peralta #jake peralta x reader #jake peralta x fem!reader #jake peralta imagine #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine nine imagine #brooklyn nine nine x reader #b99 fic #b99 imagine #b99 x reader #b99 fanfic

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rosewood-liars · 3 years

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I’m disappointed that the producers of the PLL TV Series wrote out the fact Hanna is canonically Jewish even if she is non - practicing and had a blended tradition family ( Ashley Marin is not to my knowledge also Jewish ). There’s a whole scene in the books where Tom tries to bond with Hanna again, recognizes that the christmas celebrations are bumming her out & makes it up to her by celebrating Hanukkah. ( I’ll probably transcribe that encounter from the companion novel at the end of this post. )

I mean, maybe I should not be as upset by this as I am - because I’m not religious and have never been Jewish ever in my life.

However, I’ve also had experienced the frustration and big sad™ when something that me and a loved one did together was discarded and this just doesn’t set well with me.

( I think I will make more references to this ( even if she is non - practicing ) as a nod to the fact Hanna felt it was important enough to mention to Isabel during the Christmas party. )

First Reference:

Hanna drove slowly the rest of the way home, taking deep, cleansing breaths. After gunning the car up her family’s driveway, she nearly crashed into a line of vehicles she didn’t recognize. There had to be about fifteen sedans, SUVs, and crossovers parked in the circular drive. Then she noticed something blinking by the garage. Christmas lights. And was that a glow-in-the-dark Santa and an inflatable gingerbread man in the front yard? She took tentative steps toward the house. Dot, wearing some kind of bizarre headpiece, yipped at her feet when she walked inside. Wait. Were those reindeer antlers? Hanna scooped him up and stared at the two plush stalks on his head. Each was tipped with a tiny jingle bell. “Who did this to you?” Hanna whispered, ripping them off. Dot just licked her face. She looked around the living room and gasped. Holly leaves snaked around the banister. A mechanical Mrs. Claus waved from the console table that had once held Hanna’s mother’s austere ceramic vases. A tall, tinsel-laden tree stood in the corner, and the fireplace, which Hanna couldn’t remember the family ever using, was ablaze. “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” played on the stereo at maximum volume, and the whole house smelled like honey-glazed ham. “Hello?” Hanna called out. Laughter floated out from the kitchen, first Isabel’s goose-honk chortle, then her dad’s booming guffaw. Hanna rounded the corner. The kitchen was packed with people holding champagne flutes and appetizer plates filled with mini quiches and wedges of Brie. Many of them wore Santa hats, including Hanna’s dad. Isabel stood in the corner, wearing a red velvet dress tipped with Mrs. Claus white fur on the cuffs and hem, and Kate had on a tight-fitting red jersey sheath and black-and-white Kate Spade heels. Mistletoe hung from the chandelier, a carafe of mulled cider sat on the counter, and plates and plates of the most delicious-looking Christmas cookies and appetizers filled the island. Isabel spied Hanna and glided over. “Hanna! Feliz Navidad! O Tannenbaum! Merry Christmas!” Hanna sniffed. “Um, actually, I’m Jewish. And so is my father.” Isabel blinked dumbly, like she couldn’t comprehend that anyone, let alone her own fiancé, could celebrate anything other than Christmas. Mr. Marin appeared at Isabel’s side. “Hey, sweetie,” he said, ruffling Hanna’s hair. Hanna stared at him incredulously. “Since when do you celebrate Christmas?” She said the word like she might have said Satan’s birthday. Mr. Marin crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I’ve been celebrating it with Isabel and Kate for the past few years. I told Kate to tell you.” “Well, she didn’t,” Hanna said flatly. “We do the Twelve Days of Christmas every year. We always kick it off with a bash.” Isabel took a sip of champagne. “It’s a wonderful tradition. We started early this year with tonight—kind of a housewarming-meets-Christmas thing.” “And we’d like you to be a part of the tradition too, of course,” Mr. Marin added. Hanna stared at all of the red and green paraphernalia. Her family had never been that religious, but they lit menorah candles every night of Hanukkah. On Christmas Day, they ordered Chinese takeout, watched movie marathons, and went on a long family bike ride if the weather was decent. She liked those traditions.

Second Mention:

She pulled into the driveway of her house, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and watch hours and hours of bad TV. Strangely, her father’s car was still in the driveway—not at Longwood Gardens. And the Christmas decorations that had festooned the front of the property were gone. When she opened the front door, it no longer smelled like fresh pine and cinnamon sticks but more like . . . potato pancakes? “Hanna!” Mr. Marin appeared from the kitchen. “There you are! Come in, come in! We have a surprise for you!” He whisked Hanna through the living room, but not before she noticed that the mechanical Mrs. Claus had vanished, the Christmas tree was unlit, and the stockings that had hung over the fireplace—there were monogrammed ones for Isabel, Kate, and Hanna’s dad, and a blank one presumably for Hanna—had been taken down. The old silver menorah Bubbe Marin had given Hanna’s parents sat on the mantel. Three candles blazed. “What’s going on?” Hanna asked suspiciously. Mr. Marin turned Hanna toward the dining room. There was a huge spread of food on the table, and Kate and Isabel were sitting in high-backed chairs, tepid smiles on their faces. “Surprise!” Mr. Marin crowed. “Happy Hanna-kah!” Hanna blinked at the items on the table. There were all the traditional Hanukkah foods her grandmother used to serve: latkes, jelly donuts called sufganiyot, kugel, chocolate coins, and a large brisket. Off to the side were the old dreidels she and her cousins had spun for hours, turning the game into a kind of truth or dare—if the dreidel fell on the gimel side, Tamar, her younger cousin, had to steal a dollar out of her mother’s wallet, and so on. A blue foil banner with Star of David cutouts was draped across the windows, and candles glowed around the room. Small gifts wrapped in silver paper sat on everyone’s plates. “I thought you guys were going to Santa’s Village,” Hanna said slowly. “Oh, we can do that any day,” Mr. Marin said. “I thought you might be a little upset since we’re doing so many Christmas activities, so we thought we’d celebrate our holiday tonight! Hanukkah—or Hanna-kah!” He gestured to the food on the table. “Kate and Isabel did some baking this evening, though some of this came from the kosher deli near Ferra’s Cheesesteaks.” “Your dad says you know all of the Hanukkah stories, Hanna,” Isabel said politely. “I’d love to hear them.” “This is all so nice.” Hanna’s heart expanded, just like the Grinch’s. This was definitely the nicest thing her dad had done for her in a long, long time. Her father passed around plates, and everyone began serving themselves latkes and pieces of brisket bathed in sauce. Hanna took a moderate amount of food, feeling virtuous from boot camp. Wine was poured—even Hanna and Kate got some—and everyone opened their gifts. Kate and Hanna got gift cards to Fermata Spa. Isabel got a small Christmas tree–shaped charm to add to her silver Pandora bracelet. Mr. Marin had given himself a new Swiss Army knife. He immediately unfolded the scissors and cut the tag off of Isabel’s bauble. Then, Mr. Marin launched into stories about Bubbe Marin, who used to make the best potato pancakes in the world. “We used to go over there every night of Hanukkah,” he explained. “She’d always have huge gifts for Hanna.” “Isn’t that sweet,” Isabel trilled, looking surprised, as though she’d never imagined someone would shower Hanna with gifts. “And she had this African gray parrot, Morty,” Mr. Marin went on, spearing a latke. “He knew every swearword in the world.” “He was crazy!” Hanna giggled. “I think I learned some new ones from him!” “And he loved to watch those tabloid shows—what were they called?” Mr. Marin’s face was flushed. “E! News,” Hanna repeated. “He was obsessed with Giuliana Rancic. Remember? He said she was such a pretty bitch in that crazy bird voice!” “Who’s Giuliana Rancic?” Isabel asked, blinking quickly. Hanna’s father was too busy shaking with laughter to answer. Hanna laughed too, also not bothering to fill Isabel in. It felt nice to have an inside joke with her father again, something from their lives before Isabel and Kate. They continued eating, sharing stories about Hanna’s grandmother’s obsessions with yard sales, animal figurines, and her crush on Bob Barker from The Price Is Right. By the time the meal was over, Hanna and her dad kept bursting into laughter but not bothering to explain themselves. Isabel rose to clear the table, but Mr. Marin waved her to sit down. “I can clean up,” he said.

Third Reference:

Now, Hanna sighed. After her new family had thrown Hanna a Hanukkah bone a few nights ago, everything had gone back to normal shortly afterward. The Twelve Days of Christmas nonsense had resumed, though Hanna had been able to get out of a lot of it because of boot camp.

#• What Fresh Hell Do We Have Today ??? Let's See ... • ( Dash Commentary. )#• ... Maybe I Shoulda Kept My Enemies Closer ? • ( Hanna Headcanon. )

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sickhumor · 3 years

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Jokes for the more mature reader (dated humor)

On the ﬁrst day of school, the college dean addressed the freshman class to explain some of the campus rules. “The women’s dormitory is off-limits to male students and the men’s dormitory is off-limits to female students,” he intoned. “Anybody caught breaking this rule will be fined $20 the ﬁrst time, $60 the second time and $180 the third time. Does anyone have any questions?”

A male student raised his hand. “How much for a season pass?”

_______________________________

A ﬂea had oiled up his little ﬂea legs and his little flea arms and was soaking up the Miami sun when an old ﬂea friend of his walked by. “Oscar, what happened to you?" asked the first ﬂea when he saw how terrible his friend looked——runny nose, red eyes, teeth chattering.

“I got a ride down here in some biker’s mustache and nearly froze my nuts off,” wheezed Oscar.

“Let me give you a tip, old pal,” said the ﬁrst ﬂea. "Go to the stewardess lounge at the airport, get up on the toilet seat and when a stewardess comes in, hop on for a nice warm ride. Got it?”

A month later, while stretched out on the beach, the ﬂea saw Oscar again, looking more chilled and miserable than before. “I did everything you said,” Oscar explained. “I went to the stewardess lounge, made a perfect landing and got so warm and cozy that I dozed off.”

“And so?” asked the first ﬂea.

“And so the next thing I know, I’m on this guy’s mustache again!”

________________________________

When does Michael Jackson’s kid know that it’s time to go to bed?

The big hand touches the little hand.

_________________________________

An old lady—a spinster and a virgin, and proud of it—lived in a tiny village. She knew her last days were approaching, so she told the local undertaker that she wanted the following inscription on her tombstone: BORN A VIRGIN, LIVED A VIRGIN, DIED A VIRGIN.

Not long after she had made her wish known, the old maid died peacefully in her sleep. The undertaker told the stonecutters of the lady’s request. The men, practical to a fault, thought about the inscription and concluded that it was unnecessarily long. They wrote simply: RETURNED UNOPENED.

__________________________

RECORDED MESSAGE OF THE MONTH!

“Hello, welcome to the psychiatric hotline.

“If you are obsessive-compulsive, please press one repeatedly.

“If you are codependent, please ask someone to press two.

“If you have multiple personalities, please press three, four, five and six.

“If you are paranoid-delusional, we know who you are and what you want. Stay on the line until we can trace your call.

“If you are schizophrenic, listen carefully and a little voice will tell you which number to press.

"If you are manic-depressive, it doesn’t matter which number you press. No one will answer.”

_________________________________

What’s a female bisexual?

A lesbian with car trouble.

_________________________

While at the fairgrounds, a woman wanted to take a ride on the Ferris wheel before heading home. Her husband waited while she took a spin. The wheel went round and round and suddenly the woman was thrown out. She landed in a heap at her husband’s feet. He gasped and bent down. “Are you hurt?” he asked.

“Of course I’m hurt!” she replied. “Three times around and you didn’t wave once.”

____________________________

A little boy walked in on his parents in the heat of their lovemaking. “Mommy, what are you doing?”

“Um,” she stammered, “well, Daddy is so fat that I’m bouncing all the air out of him.”

“I don’t know what good it’s going to do," the boy replied. “The lady next door is just going to blow him up again!”

__________________________

The young woman complained to her friend about her boyfriend's extraordinary sex drive, “I barely have the strength to go to work in the morning." she said. “Now that he's off on holiday. things will only get worse."

“How long is he off?" the friend asked.

“It varies," she replied, “but usually, time for one cigarette."

______________________________

One morning, a Texan walked up to his savings-and-loan branch office and found it closed. After several minutes of pounding on the door, the manager appeared. "We’re closed!" he shouted through the glass.

“But your sign says you’re open nine to ﬁve," the customer replied.

“Those aren’t our hours. Those are the odds we'll he open tomorrow."

_____________________________

As soon as the famous movie director passed through the pearly gates, Saint Peter told him they had a ﬁlm they wanted him to direct. The director tried to beg off, pleading exhaustion, but Saint Peter explained that this was a very special ﬁlm—the script was by Shakespeare.

The director was tempted for a moment but declined. Then Saint Peter said the art direction would be by Da Vinci. The ﬁlni maker warmed considerably to the project but again decided against it,

“The music will be by Beethoven," Saint Peter added.

“Screenplay by Shakespeare! Production design by Da Vinci! Original score by Beethoven!" the director exclaimed. “I'll do it!"

“There's just one thing." Saint Peter said. “God has this girlfriend who sings. . . ."’

_____________________________

An archaeologist was digging in the Negev Desert in Israel and came upon a casket containing a mummy After examining it, he called the curator Ola prestigious natural-history museum. “I’ve just discovered a three-thousand-year-old mummy of a man who died of heart failure!" the excited scientist exclaimed.

"You can’t know all that from looking at ‘him," the curator replied. “Bring him in. Well see."

A week later, the amazed curator called the archaeologist. "You were right about the mummy’s age and cause of death. How in the world did you know?”

“Easy. There was a piece of paper in his hand that said, “10,000 SHEKELS ON GOLIATH.”

_______________________________

What's the difference between a terrorist and your wife?

You can negotiate with a terrorist.

_________________________

A geneticist believed he had discovered a method for putting the theory oi human cloning into practice. He decided to clone himself ﬁrst. Everything went perfectly except that, through some minor miscalculation. his clone was rude, vulgar and foulmouthed. When he was unable to correct the problem, he threw the offensive clone out his laboratory window. The following day, the scientist was arrested for making an obscene clone fall.

___________________________

A man walked into a Porsche dealership, opened the door of a Boxster, took a seat behind the wheel and smiled. A salesman approached and asked, “Are you thinking about buying this car?”

“Oh, I’m deﬁnitely going to buy this car,” he said, “but I’m thinking about pussy.”

____________________________

Dave arrived in hell and was told he had a decision to make. He could go to capitalist hell or to communist hell. Naturally, Dave wanted to compare the two, so he wandered over to capitalist hell. He asked the ﬁrst man he met, “What’s it like in there?"

“Well, in capitalist hell,” the man replied, “they ﬂay you, boil you in oil, chain you to a rock and slash you with sharp knives.”

“That’s terrible!” gasped Dave. “I’m going to check out communist hell.” There he discovered a huge line of people waiting to get in. He pushed his way through to the head of the line, where he found Karl Marx busily signing in people. Dave asked what communist hell was like.

“In communist hell,” Marx said, “they ﬂay you, boil you in oil, chain you to a rock and slash you with sharp knives.”

“But that’s exactly the same as capitalist hell!" protested Dave.

“True,” sighed Marx, “but sometimes we don’t have oil, and sometimes we don’t have knives.”

_______________________________

What’s the difference between an onion and an accordion?

No one cries when you cut an accordion in half.

_________________________

Billy Bob parked his rig in Florida for a few days before driving back home. He was about to dive into the surf but ﬁgured he’d better check out the alligator situation with the townsfolk. “Nope, no gators here,” a local assured him.

Billy Bob had swum out 50 feet before his brain kicked in again. “Hey, how come there ain’t no gators in here?” he yelled back to the guy onshore.

“Because they’re afraid of the sharks,” came the reply.

_____________________________

The high school student spent most of his afternoons in the basement mixing chemicals. One day his father went down to ﬁnd his son surrounded by racks of test tubes and pounding something into the wall. “Danny, don’t put nails in the wall,” his father admonished.

“It’s not a nail, Dad,” the young man explained. “It’s a worm. I found a formula that turns things as hard as a rock.”

“Tell you what, son,” the man said with sudden interest. “You give me the special formula and I’ll buy you a car.”

The next day when Danny got home from school, he saw two brand-new cars in the driveway. “Dad, what are these?” he asked.

“Oh, they’re for you, son,” his dad said, smiling. “The Toyota’s from me. The Mercedes is from your mother.”

_____________________________

What’s the difference between a dentist and a sadist?

A sadist has newer magazines.

__________________________

The couple had broken up but remained friends as well as neighbors in the same apartment building. Some months after their split, the two met in the elevator. The woman’s ex had his arm in a cast. “Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked sympathetically.

“Well, if it’s not too much trouble, would you help me take a bath?”

She agreed, and back at his apartment, she eased him into the tub and began to wash his back. As she lathered his chest she noticed his growing erection. “Now isn’t that sweet,” she cooed. “It still recognizes me.”

___________________________

A lady walked into a tattoo parlor and said, “Can you do a tattoo of a turkey on my right inner thigh and one of a Christmas tree on my left inner thigh?"

“Sure,” the tattoo artist said. “But if you don’t mind me asking, why did you choose those two designs?”

The lady smiled. “My husband,” she explained. “He says there’s never anything to eat between Thanksgiving and Christmas!”

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bisexualdaemon · 5 years

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Closer (Vampire!Shawn)

a/n: Oh, hey! Long time, no see! This idea came to me out of nowhere. Hit me like a freight train. I made this edit and it nearly killed me so I had to write this. The title comes from the Kings of Leon song, HIGHLY recommend checking it out before or after reading this. It’s always given me vampire vibes. ANYWAYS, here’s a little Vampire!Shawn for you...I’m kind of obsessed with it.

warnings: 6.1k (WHAAAAT?!) of vampire content, smut, blood, the works

It was long past midnight and the streets were quiet. Even in New York City there was an hour, usually between three and four in the morning, where hardly anything moved. It was his favorite time to take a walk, especially now when his dry veins ached. Shawn stalked up 7th Ave, away from his townhouse on St. Lukes Place, and whistled softly to himself.

In these quiet moments, he remembered the city as it was, decades and decades ago, filled with far fewer people and much more debauchery. He let the old sounds of memories long faded fill his ears, raucous laughter and tap, tapping of horseshoes on stone. The opening and closing of club doors that poured a cacophony of jazz music into the street. The acrid smell of bodies and saltwater, cigarette smoke and too sweet perfume, crept into his nose. Scott and Zelda laughed as they walked on either side of him, Duke Ellington humming along behind, making their way to Broadway to see Josephine in her last show before she moved to France.

Josephine. Shawn paused along the deserted avenue and closed his eyes. God, he missed her. Passionate, committed, righteous...he could taste it all in her blood. The fire in her veins had reddened his eyes on so many occasions in those days. Iron mixed with prohibition whiskey. A shiver ran through his body as his canines lengthened. He ran his tongue along their sharp, defined points. Feeling the warm metallic tang of his own blood trickle down his throat, he relived the sensation but felt no relief from his craving.

Six weeks. It had been six weeks since he’d tasted human blood. Her blood. A day hadn’t passed that he didn't think about that night, the sticky mid-July humidity clinging to his cool skin hours after sunset….

The Trinity. The neon sign flashed outside above the bar. Shawn had always laughed at the name, the obvious religious connotations. It was a vampire bar after all. Run by two vampires who once served wine to King Henry VIII, the bar had settled in the West Village almost a hundred years ago. It changed names, the owners changed identities, but the clientele remained cold and thirsty all the same. The Trinity was low-key but exclusive, a semi-dive bar with a bouncer out front, hilariously named Vlad, a massive Russian man with fists the size of a normal man’s head. Shawn flashed his red eyes at him, the only membership card he needed to gain entry.

“Meat is scarce,” Shawn heard him mumble. He winced at the euphemism. Meat just meant live bodies, humans who had come willingly to the bar as potential sources of blood. At Trinity, humans received a card that allowed them entry once every three weeks. For vampires, it was the best way to keep the blood supply fresh and undiluted. For humans, it was a status symbol, an underground and privileged one. But it also meant that some nights were slower than others, especially after events and holidays.

Some vampires were less appreciative of human life than others. They saw The Trinity as a trap, an easy way to catch prey. Willing sources were so scarce that vampires often lost control and bled them dry, whether they meant to or not. Shawn was a little less macabre. He was old enough to appreciate the fragility of humans, old enough to taste the subtle differences in blood quality. Humans allowed into Trinity passed a blood test, so he felt they were best kept alive. He couldn’t find a drug and disease-free meal just anywhere. Yes, he fed here. It was like Whole Foods and real-life Tinder all in one place.

He took a seat at the bar, nodding over to a group of younglings, a little too feral to be trusted. A thick cloud of smoke poured over him from the corner, choking Shawn’s sensitive sense of smell. He coughed and waved it away, revealing a familiar old woman in the corner with gleaming red eyes and long white hair. She took a long pull from her six-inch cigarette holder and blew another cloud of smoke at him, obscuring her very vintage 1820s corset.

“Bonjour, Shawn,” she said at the end of her exhale.

“Madame LaLaurie,” he waved a hand to greet her, trying not to make a face of abject revulsion at the red drops falling from her chin. Propriety was not a concept familiar to the old ones. Neither was blending in. Her costume froze her in time. Shawn looked down at his own black jeans and red short sleeve button up, a pair of chelsea boots on his feet. He was thankful that he’d been able to live—well, approximate living—over the years instead of calcifying, turning into an undead corpse refusing to move with the passing years. Dropping his head, he tried to shake the image out despite the smoke still curling in the air.

A whiskey sour, his usual, appeared like magic in front of him. Not actual magic–witches weren’t allowed here–but out of the hand of John Somerset, co-owner and purveyor of The Trinity.

“Shawn,” he nodded, his London lilt still clinging to his accent more than a century after leaving England, “it’s a slow night.” Shawn turned over his shoulder and squinted in the low light. The room was large, the size of a small warehouse, with several alcoves and nooks for privacy. Maybe twenty people milled about, some eyes flashing red, usually paired with a brown or blue or green eyed man or woman. One of them, a vampire with ginger hair and small features, wandered up to the bar with a young man, perhaps just recently legal. The vampire’s long white fingers wrapped around the boy’s hip. John’s eyes narrowed over the counter.

“Kit,” he addressed the vampire in a low voice, “be careful with the young ones.”

“Oh, John, worry not!” Kit’s grip on the boy visibly tightened. He turned to his companion and nuzzled his nose, drawing a laugh from him, “Tyler and I are just fine!” And so Tyler seemed to be, his rosy cheek pressed to Kit’s shoulder, intermittently turning to press wet kisses to his neck. It was a familiar sight. Kit Marlowe was a notorious letch, but he wasn’t much of a killer. Young Tyler was likely not in any danger, but John Somerset protected his bar as if it were his child. No foul play allowed.

Shawn slipped off his bar stool, leaving John to harass Kit. Wandering around the red-tinged room, he nursed his whiskey sour and took stock of the options in the room. He lifted his nose and closed his eyes. In one corner, the strong smell of nicotine and vaping liquid overpowered any unique notes he could have made out in blood. He moved on, scrunching his nose. There were a lot of masculine scents, pachouli, leather, amber, bergamot, and while Shawn didn’t discriminate based on gender–a man could be fun if he was looking to dominate–tonight he craved something a little more delicate.

A hand grazed his shoulder and he turned, startled, bowed and ready to attack.

“How dare y—”

A wall of warm jasmine and citrus crashed into him. It disarmed him, turning his limbs into rubber. She smelled like summer sun, or at least, what he imagined summer sun to smell like. He’d forgotten some time around the beginning of the Wars of the Roses, a hundred years after he’d last felt sunlight. He leaned into her palm, still resting on his shoulder.

“Open your eyes,” she whispered, her breath gliding across his face adding a touch of mint to her bouquet. He hadn’t realized they were still closed. He squinted, adjusting to the harsh red lights again, and looked down at her.

At first, all he could see was white. She was wearing white from head to toe. A white sheer top over a white lace bra, white pants with little tears in the knees, white pumps. The red on the sole of her shoes was the only pop of color. Her clothes fit perfectly around her curves, the cleavage she let show leading his eye to her long neck and the pulse point there, fluttering with her beating heart. Even with all that confidence, she couldn’t hide the rush of coming face to face with time itself. She was a mortal angel looking for trouble in this hellish pit.

After the initial shock, his eyes caught hers. They glowed in the low light, twinkling his own reflection back at him. She was close, close enough that he could see each individual pore on her face, unencumbered by makeup. Her skin was beautiful, taut over her cheekbones and flushed with all that sweet smelling blood. His mouth watered a little and his eyes lost focus as he took another deep inhale. He felt that tell-tale lengthening in his mouth with a shiver. He was so...hungry.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, vampires kept time in decades and centuries not minutes and hours, but he sensed her every movement. Her feet shifted; her heart pounded; her hands flexed and relaxed. He smiled and felt her heart pick up speed, taking her hand and turning it over in his palm to trace the blue maze of veins in her wrist.

“You’ve never been here, never done this before, have you?”

“How did you—?” She ripped her hand away from him, a proud tilt to her head, “I know what I’m doing.”

“Oh, you might,” he chuckled under his breath, tracing a cold finger down her cheek, satisfied at the gooseflesh that bloomed where he touched. “You’re certainly sure of yourself. It’s rare a human catches me unaware. How did you do that?”

“I think you were looking for someone,” the corner of his mouth upturned at her words, I was looking for you, “but I don’t usually hesitate when I see something I want.” She was so confident, he didn’t even think it was false bravado. Just pure adrenaline. He’d never met anything like her.

“So, hello,” she stuck her hand out formally, like she hadn’t already wrapped him around her fingers, like he hadn’t already made a place for her in his bed, and told him her name.

“I’m Shawn,” smiling, he took her hand and shook it, careful to control his grip and not hurt her. They stood there like that, hands clasped together, for a moment. It was long enough for Shawn to feel her skin under his fingertips and wonder if her whole body was like that, soft and firm and vibrating with energy, with so much blood. Her heartbeat rang in his ears, loud and clear as if his own heart had come back to life.

She reached up and pushed a fallen curl out of his face, “do you wanna dance?”

“I….don’t dance,” he shuffled nervously, all his smug self-assuredness gone in a second. Centuries and cat-like reflexes hadn’t improved his shoddy dancing skills and he really didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of his future meal.

“Oh, come on,” she grabbed at his hand and pulled, “everyone dances a little, even stuffy vampires.” He followed her, let her pull him onto the world’s smallest dance floor in front of a certified vintage jukebox. The Gershwins poured through the old speakers, sounding more like a gramophone than anything nearing modern audio quality. She yanked his arms about in a makeshift attempt at the Charleston, kicking her legs out at weird angles. He could tell that she could move, she just had never moved in the 20s in front of a big band.

“Okay, okay,” he caught her hips and stilled them, “that’s not bad, but it’s not the Charleston either.” He showed her how to rotate her ankles and add her arms, eventually just taking her hands and moving with her forward and backward, swinging his awkward legs around.

“See! You can dance!” she held onto his arms and stepped back and forth with him, “were you alive in the 20s?”

“Ahem, alive?” he grinned, “no, I wasn’t alive...but I was pulled onto many dance floors in this city to do the Charleston in the 20s.” Her eyes blew wide, the first truly human reaction he’d seen from her.

“So...how old are you?” she had stopped moving, too shocked and curious to concentrate on the dance.

“That’s a rude question!” He faked indignance, slapping his palm to his chest. She snorted, crossing her arms and jutting her hip out to the side.

“If I’m going to let you drink my blood, you could at least tell me how old you are!” His mouth fell open. The unspoken arrangement between vampires and humans at The Trinity was just that—unspoken. He’d been coming here for decades and no one had ever been so bold. He tried to think back to the last human who had ever demanded something of him, especially something so sacred as his age, and was coming up blank. She was serious. Moxie, they used to call it. She was overflowing with it.

Fuck it. His sigh would have been more dramatic if his chest still moved with his breath.

“I was born,” he took a deep bow, his curls flopping forward toward the floor, “in the year of our Lord 1322.”

“Oh my God,” she gasped. He watched as she did the quick math, the cogs spinning behind her eyes as they grew wider with the realization that he was—

“Seven hundred.” She wavered and he stepped forward to steady her, let her lean into his side and breathe through the shock. She looked up at him and reached for his face, but he caught her hand first and held it to his chest.

“Well, I'm 697. The big 7-0-0 is a few years away.” He grinned, his fangs just peeking out from behind his cold lips. If he could blush, he would have in that moment. With her proximity came another wave of jasmine, mixed with something else, something much more feminine and earthy. He leaned down and touched his nose to her jawline, grazing it slightly and inhaling deep. It was heady. He could tell she felt it too. Her head tipped back and invited him in. His body stirred in a way it hadn’t in a very long time.

In another, more feral, life, he would have taken her right there.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he panted, a memory of humanity rather than a need for breath. She released the tension in her body, having braced for the bite he wasn’t ready to give.

“Jesus fuck, yes,” she nodded. He wondered how long she’d been waiting for him to ask. If he had to bet, he’d say before she even laid a hand on him. They gathered their phones, checked at the door, and headed to the street.

“Excuse me, miss!” Vlad called as they passed. He locked eyes with Shawn, “sorry, Shawn, you know it’s protocol.” Shawn shrugged and nodded, presenting her to him.

“Hello, miss, I just need to make sure you’ve consented to leave with him,” he focused on her neck, at the pulse beating loud and clear there, an almost foolproof lie detector test.

“Yes, I agreed to leave with him,” she looked back at Shawn, steady as a rock, and he nodded, bracing for the next bit. The bit that caused panic in the faint of heart and had lost him many an evening meal.

“And you understand that The Trinity is absolved of any liability for any injury that might befall you after you leave here.” Shawn heard her heart kick up a little but she stood her ground, swallowing loud.

“Yes, I understand.” She nodded, holding out her hand to shake on it. Vlad’s eyes lit up with amusement, taking her hand in his much larger one and shaking. Apparently her charm worked on even the most sullen of bouncers.

“Okay, miss. You’re good to go. Have a good evening,” he tipped his head and glanced past her shoulder at Shawn, “take good care of this one.” Shawn gave him a two-finger salute.

“See you, Vlad!” She waved cheerfully, grabbing Shawn’s hand and rushing into the night. He hailed a cab, impatient to get back across town. It was late and he wanted to enjoy the rest of the night, he had a feeling he wasn’t going to want it to end.

When the cab pulled up to his six-story Greenwich Village brownstone, he was tracing patterns on her knee, the rip in her jeans the only skin available to him. She looked out the window, letting out a giggle before slapping her hand over her mouth.

“You have to be fucking joking,” she crawled out of the cab, the tiniest clutch he’d ever seen in her hand. She let him lead her up the steps to his door, her neck craned all the way back to look up.

He let her inside and shut the door, their shoes echoing off the cool black and white tile. He’d watched this house be built in the 1850s, had snatched it off the market then and there. Over the years, he’d moved around. Europe, Asia, Canada, but he always came back here. His best memories were in this city, so he called this house home.

It was covered in relics from the past. A savonarola chair from the 16th century in the corner. An original Thomas Gainsborough portrait of himself hanging in the entryway. A suit of armor, the one he was wearing when he began this new life after death, stood at the top of the stairs. He turned and watched her study the portrait.

It was provocative for the time. Shawn had foregone a powder wig in favor of his curls, wild and unkempt in a halo around his chiseled face. It had been a challenge for Thomas, so used to the round and cherubic faces of the time, his brushstrokes not suited for a man with so many angles. She looked back at him and pointed, raising her brow, and he nodded.

“Yes, Thomas made me sit for hours upon hours for that,” he moved to stand behind her, his hands busying themselves along her ribs, “thank God it made it through the Blitz.” She leaned back into him, becoming breathless at his ministrations. His fingers pulled at her sheer top, freeing it from her jeans to allow his hands underneath against the bare skin of her stomach.

“Your hands are so cold,” she gasped. He brought his lips to her neck, leaving a trail of chaste kisses along her carotid.

“I know a way,” he traced the artery with his tongue, “to warm them up.”

“Oh?” She pushed her hair over her other shoulder to expose more of her long neck to him. He smiled against her skin and turned her to face him. God, she was beautiful, so fucking full of life. Had there ever been anyone who stirred him like this? He lifted her from underneath her thighs, wrapping her legs around him.

“Not here,” he nipped at her jaw, enjoying the squeak that left her in surprise, “no one bleeds in my entryway.” He carried her up the stairs, never panting, never stumbling. Even without his eyes as a physical marker of his Otherness, no one living could watch him and not know he wasn’t exactly human. He’d been vampire for so long now that it was all he knew.

They watched each other with every flight he climbed, eyes locked. His pupils were blown wide, anticipating the coming high. She pushed her hair out of her face and bit her lip, the only outward sign of nervousness he’d seen. When they reached his bedroom, spanning a whole floor of the house, her heart was pounding against his chest. He pressed her against the wall, still holding eye contact.

He finally broke away to lay his head against her chest. The sound of her heartbeat consumed him. Her skin burned his cheek. His fangs ached. He felt the rhythmic pumping of blood course through her body, around his neck in her wrists, around his waist in her thighs, and lower as she slid down on the wall and he pressed his cock to her pulsing heat. A growl escaped him, deep and animalistic.

He couldn’t find her mouth fast enough.

Their mouths collided, teeth and tongues, harsh breath and feral moans. He sucked her citrus-soaked breath into his lungs, drunk on her scent. She slid her fingers into his hair at the nape and guided him deeper into her mouth. She sucked on his lower lip, dangerously close to his exposed fangs. Biting gently, she pulled a groan from him. He backed away from her, letting her legs fall from around his waist. She tried to catch her breath, hands braced behind her against the wall.

The air between them crackled with opposing energy, hot and cold, alive and dead, predator and prey. When they collided again it was desperate, a labyrinth of hands and arms and legs tearing off clothing. She popped most of the buttons on his shirt trying to get it off. He accidentally ripped two more holes in her jeans trying to force them down her legs. With each barrier removed, more skin was revealed. Neither of them could stop touching, the urgency overwhelming them. Her skin was butter soft, even under his sensitive fingertips. If he could burn, he thought her hands might be leaving hot welts on his skin. Both in their underwear and nothing else, Shawn stepped back, perching himself on the edge of his massive bed.

“Come,” he beckoned. She stalked toward him, her perfect breasts bouncing with each step. He bit back a whimper. There hadn’t been a woman in his bed in years. He had almost forgotten what perfect creatures they were, all curves and softness, warmth and femininity. Reaching out, he pulled her thighs toward him. She straddled his lap, knees planted in the plush crimson red duvet. He cupped her face with his hands, running the pads of his thumbs over her cheekbones .

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he looked at her unblinking, letting her have all the time she needed to be sure. “If you want, you can get dressed and leave right now and never see me again.”

“No!” she cried, digging her nails into his sides like he was the one preparing to flee, “I mean I’m sure. I don’t want to leave.” She scratched at his cold skin, a soothing gesture. He pressed a kiss to the valley between her breasts, right above her heart. He let it beat against his lips, feeling the pebbled gooseflesh bloom on her skin, slowly trailing upward toward her neck. Her breathing was ragged, audible in the quiet of the room. She weaved her hands into his curls, tugging them impatiently. Smiling against her skin, he finally reached that pulse point he’d picked out earlier in the entryway. He cradled her head to the side, exposing the vein in her neck, thick and throbbing. He inhaled, running his nose from her shoulder to her jaw. Her scent was so strong. The citrus exploded in notes of lemon and tangerine. He wondered if she tasted like it.

His fangs broke skin.

Blood burst from her. Two streams of thick, hot life poured into his mouth. He battened onto her neck and suckled, his eyes fluttering shut, softly moaning against her. Colors exploded behind his eyelids, a kaleidoscope of yellow and orange and white, lemon and tangerine and jasmine. His arms curled around her, pressing her into his chest, farther into his mouth. Her whole body was vibrating with the force of her moans, her hands in his hair like a vice grip.

Her blood was liquid fire in his mouth, burning him from the inside out. He could feel the warmth returning to his fingers, a rusty pulse beating in his calcified heart. It was a hollow imitation of what being human felt like, full of faded memories that came back to life in an instant and then died again. A woman with flowers woven into her hair, a pale blue shift clinging to her nervous frame. A battle raging in a war he didn’t choose to fight in. A priest praying in Latin over the lifeless body of an infant.

Shawn’s eyes flew open.

He released her, taking harsh gulps of air, his seldom used lungs brought back to temporary life. The unbidden memories dissipated as quickly as they had come, but they left him disoriented. He fell back against the mattress, his fingers trembling against her thighs on either side of him, and looked up at her.

Her head was thrown back, chest heaving like she’d run a marathon. He winced at her neck. The puncture wounds were neat, he wasn’t an animal fresh from the Quickening, but he’d left blood smeared on her shoulder. She was still bleeding, two crimson rivulets pooling at her collarbone.

A high tinkling laugh startled him. Her face was flushed with exhilaration, the adrenaline rush overpowering the blood loss. She leaned over, placing a hand on his bare chest.

“It’s beating!” she exclaimed, wonder and confusion swimming in her eyes. He blinked at her, bleary-eyed and unsure if he could open his mouth to speak.

“Only for a little while,” he scratched out, his throat still burning from her citrus-flavored blood, “it will fade in a day or so.”

“Then will you feed again?” she looked down at her fingers, scratching lightly through his thin dusting of chest hair.

“No,” he took one of her wrists and kissed it right where her pulse beat strongest, “I only feed once every few months. This feeling, the heartbeat, it can be addicting for my kind. I try to ration as long as I can to fight the craving.” He looked over at his curtained window, checking the time. It was still dark as pitch, plenty of time left in the night with her.

“What are those?” Her fingers touched the two freckle-like spots on his neck. He hissed. She looked at him, alarmed at the sound. Quick fear made her pupils retract into pinpricks, but they relaxed as soon as he reached up to cup her cheek.

“Shh, it’s not you; they’re just sore,” he stretched his neck to the side to give her a better view. “It’s my change mark, the impression left by the vampire that created me. When I feed it aches as the first day I received it.” He didn’t know why he was telling her this. It wasn’t like him to divulge personal details about his life to take-out from The Trinity. Then again, he didn’t usually take his meal home, either. There was just something about her...he couldn’t name it. He just knew he didn’t want her to go away.

She shifted on top of him, brushing his lap. His eyes widened. She was wet. So wet that he could feel it seeping through his own boxer briefs. He took a breath to steady himself, but that only brought him musky waves of her arousal. His hands grabbed at her hips to still her.

“I can smell you,” he moved underneath her, making sure she could feel him. He was painfully hard, straining underneath the two layers of thin fabric keeping him from feeling her, from losing control completely. She gasped, bracing herself against his chest and smiling, blood rushing to her cheeks.

“You could do something about that,” she teased, running her thumbs over his hard nipples. Everything was sensitive; everything was hard, his whole body teeming with energy and life after taking his fill of her. His need for nourishment had been satisfied, leaving him with a different kind of hunger, one he was sure she was feeling too. She fought his hold on her hips and ground down on his lap pointedly.

He flipped them, loving the sound of her squeak at his display of easy strength. Her hair spread out in a halo against his duvet, making her seem more angel than human. He ducked and pressed a kiss to her lips, a quick taste before he stood to rid himself of his underwear. She lifted herself up on her elbows to look at him, finally naked in front of her. Her eyes darkened in the way that only a human’s can, in that moment when they’re most animal.

“Are you coming?” She welcomed him between her legs, feet flat against his mattress and knees spread, her pretty white lace panties practically translucent against her soaking slit. He reached behind her to the bedside table and dug a condom out of the drawer.

“Not yet, but you will be soon,” he rolled it down his length. Her eyes rolled and she fell back against the bed, too turned on to be annoyed at his bad joke. He braced himself above her, leaning down to nuzzle the mark he’d left earlier, licking at the blood still clinging to her chest. It was cold, devoid of life but still rich with her taste. She mewled, lost somewhere between pleasure and pain. He pressed a final kiss to his bite, the tang of her blood still clinging to his lips.

“Shawn,” she clawed at his back, wrapping her legs around his waist and lifting her lips to his ear, “please.”

He growled, pushing inside to the hilt in one stroke. They both cried out, his head falling forward to mouth at her chest. She threaded her fingers into his hair to hold him, breathing through the stretch of him inside of her. With her arousal, the floral, fertile jasmine scent of her overwhelmed him. It rippled off of her, filling his bedroom. He slowly moved in and out, a lazy rhythm to prolong the closeness. He could have moved like that for hours, giving her just enough pleasure to keep her on edge but never sending her over. But she’d given him what he’d wanted, given him part of herself, shared what makes her alive to give him a fleeting glimpse of what that felt like again.

“Harder, baby,” she moaned. He bristled at the pet name, fucking her into the mattress harder, his hips colliding with hers over and over. They both panted profanities, her back arching and pushing her breasts into his chest. He took one of her nipples between his lips, flicking the hard bud with his tongue. The salty sweetness of her skin filled his mouth. She started to tremble beneath him, her arms clinging to his straining biceps.

“Shawn,” she looked him in the eye, her words punctuated by his relentless thrusting, “fuck...I want….you…to bite me again.”

He didn’t argue.

His fangs found a home just beneath her breast, her sweet blood, fragrant with her passion, erupted into his mouth. She screamed her release, pushing her body as far into him as she could, until he fell over the edge with her. He drank from her until they were both more blood than bone, until her limbs went limp and he couldn’t hold her up anymore. Images flickered in his memory, the same ones from before, the ones that usually made him gasp in the pain of dead memories, but he was so fully sated that they couldn’t touch him. He collapsed beside her, eyes closed and gasping for breath.

Her fingers traced his wet lips and slipped inside his mouth. They were covered in her blood. He turned to look at her as he sucked them clean and marveled at her hooded eyes, dark with the erotic sight before her. He released her fingers with a pop, swirling his tongue around the tips and smiling at the moan he elicited.

“That was…” she started.

“Incredible,” they both laughed.

Shawn crawled off the bed with unsteady legs. It was a drunk sort of walk, he hadn’t had human blood straight from the source in so long, hadn’t been fucked back to life in even longer. The intoxication was acute, the world a little more saturated and loud. He flipped the light on in his bathroom to grab a towel and discard the condom. Catching his reflection, he stopped quick. He’d almost forgotten what it looked like when he fed. His flushed complexion returned, rosy cheeks and chest colored with fresh blood under his skin. His chest moved, his heart pumping for the first time in six months. He’d gone so long without feeding this time. Too long.

He dabbed the towel at her shoulder and her breast, thankful for the enzymes in his mouth that quickened the healing. The blood around the bites had already coagulated, leaving a bit of a mess behind, but at least she had stopped bleeding. When all the excess blood was gone, she was left with four neat wounds, each smaller than the head of a pin.

“There. You might be sore for a couple of days but they should heal quickly,” Shawn instructed. She nodded, looking a little miffed about what to do next. It was the body’s natural instinct to fight or flee under the eyes of a predator, but he could tell she wanted to do neither.

“Do you…” he hesitated, he’d never done this before but he wasn’t ready to let her go yet, “do you want to sleep here? With me?”

She answered his question by burying herself in his sheets, all still pristine white underneath his red duvet. Not one drop of blood had spilled onto his bed. He crawled in after her, opening his arm to let her curl into his side.

“You really are warm now,” she wondered aloud, playing with his fingertips in between her own.

“All because of you,” he kissed the top of her head, an intimate gesture, but no more intimate than claiming her blood for his own, “now sleep.”

So they slept. He slept hard, his body surrendering to real rest for the first time in months. The dreams that usually plagued him after feeding were absent. His old life, his human life, didn’t come back to haunt him. His wife, his child, the wars he’d waged for men with too much power and no care for human life, all stayed dead. She chased it all away with her warmth and her jasmine scent and her citrus blood.

He didn’t know if it was hours or days later when he woke up to an empty house, her scent still desperately clinging to his sheets. All he knew was that she was gone and all he had was her name.

Lost in thought, in the memory of her, he found himself in front of The Trinity. He’d come here a couple of times, looking, hoping to see her again, but he’d given up. It wasn’t usual for him to ever revisit a human twice. In fact, he could only name a handful of women he’d had more than once. But she wasn’t coming back. He’d thought back on that night so many times and thought of all the things he could have done wrong, but in truth, he was a vampire and sometimes that was enough. He was too old, too mature to let a human consume him like this.

Vlad waved him in and he sat in his usual place at the bar nursing his usual whiskey sour. John chattered about some event he was hosting. Some kind of political thing, Alex Hamilton was expected to show. Shawn really hated him. Still a fucking hot head like he was in life. It had only gotten worse since the musical. If only people knew how many times the real A. Ham had been in the audience.

It was near closing time when John decided to shut up about vampire politics and let Shawn sulk in peace and quiet. He’d been so careful the last decade to temper his thirst. He went longer and longer and longer between feedings, meticulous about who he fed on and where. No personal life, no invitations, no sex.

She’d broken all his rules and then she’d just left him. It was just one night. One night that he’d never forget. He sighed, slumping over his third whiskey sour and hoping that tomorrow he’d be less pitiful. He needed to call it a night. Nodding at John, he laid down some cash and slid off his barstool.

Fingers grazed his change mark. He jumped near out of his skin, whipping around only to be knocked over by the familiar floral and citrus that he’d been looking for.

It was her.

“Shawn?”

*****

I mean like....I have to continue this, right?

(btw, his brownstone townhouse is a real place on the market for a cool $20 million rn)

permanent taglist: @justanotherfangurl272 @siennarossi @trustfundshawn @alone-in-madness @rodneywaber @harryandmolly @thatindiannerdygirl @the-claire-bitch-project @mendesromano @fromthicctosticc @esoltis280 @softmendesss @sinplisticshawn @nedthegay @september-lace @itrocksmysocks @disaster-rose @mendesoft @luvluvxx @i-play-video-games @ihearthemcallingforyou @hi-my-name-is-sid @gentleshawn @kitykatnumber @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @ijustreallylikeshawnokay

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes au #shawn peter raul mendes #vampire!shawn #my writing

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charlierainfordsso · 3 years

Text

Okay, since it’s Christmas/New Year, your local ginger Jorvik-obsessed grinch is feeling vaguely festive. So, as a present, I gift to you a long Charlie x Josh piece, which explores how they met and is full of nauseating fluff and so much sweetness you’ll probably have to go to the dentist for cavities. It’s under the cut, happy holidays- now let me grinch in peace.

___

When the roads of Jorvik became blanketed in at least two foot of snow overnight, traffic ground to a halt. There was no way lorries and cars were getting through this. The owners of the delicate warmblood horses tucked them away in their stalls, wrapping them up more carefully than any Christmas present. Suddenly, the landscape was dotted with hairy, sturdy ponies and cobs, the only horses capable of ploughing their way through the deep drifts to get where they needed to be.

But Charlie could.

Isolated from the rest of Jorvik, the rangers of Redwood Point worried about how they’d feed their horses. Rovar’s Gap had drifts up to their armpits. No feed lorry could get through there.

Right now, she was in Silverglade village, loading supplies into a well-crafted sleigh. Standing patiently at the front, their breath curling into white clouds of steam, were Dreamweaver and Foxfire, known more commonly by their stable names, Fancy and Sven, respectively. The two grey Irish cobs could have passed for twins were it not for Sven’s paler coat. It had been a long time since Chas had worked the two in harness together, but she’d dug the old leather out from her tack room, shined it up, and borrowed a sleigh from the Jarlassons, who bred and drove Clydesdales.

The two harnessed horses drew a crowd of curious children, all wrapped up to the ears in scarves and hats and mittens by their doting parents. Sven, good natured as ever, bent his great shaggy head down to their affection. Fancy kept hers up and haughty, but still had a crowd of admirers. The mare almost seemed to be posing, aware of how striking she looked in the brass and leather gear.

Charlie flicked her red hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand as she noticed a stir over by Steve’s barn. She glanced back at the loading process, but Courtney, Big Bonny, and Lance, who was back in the village visiting his parents for Christmas, rather than at Starshine, were all helping out. They seemed to have it well under control, so Charlie made her way curiously towards the barn.

She didn’t expect to see Josh holding court, but that’s exactly what she saw. Blankets and cushions were spread out over the floor of the barn, and a group of entranced teenagers were gathered while he told a story with lively gestures and his wonderfully free grin. He had a lock of his white-blonde hair falling into his eyes, and Charlie wanted to brush it out of the way. She’d offered to cut it, but he said he liked the longer length. And it suited him. Softened his features a little.

Charlie took her eyes off her boyfriend and let them wander over the group of teens. These few had chosen to stay for the winter Jorvik experience, rather than the oh-so-popular summer camp. She wondered how many of them would stay on at the end, like she had, two years ago now.

But then again, she thought as she glanced over to Josh with a small internal smile, I had love to make me stay, and that’s a powerful motivator.

None of the teens looked older than fifteen, and Charlie, though she was only nineteen, suddenly felt rather old, envying their fresh faces, their innocence, their differences all lost in the face of their shared love for horses. She hoped none of them would have to learn of the Soul Riders, and the fine and dangerous line they walked between good and evil to keep the two separate. Across the miles that separated Starshine Ranch and Silverglade, Charlie felt Stargazer sense her sudden weariness. She knew that the handsome chestnut Jorvik Warmblood raised his head from his grazing, gazing across the river as though he could see her.

‘Are you okay, dear heart?’ His resonant voice asked her gently in her mind.

‘I’m fine, fire horse. Not a thing to worry your head about.’ Her response seemed to settle him, but she could feel his concern linger, so she added; ‘Go back to your grazing. We’re not strong enough to do this for long without a headache yet.’

He sent her a wave of affection that she returned, then she felt his presence leave her mind as she returned to the here-and-now.

Josh was spinning the youngsters a tale that he’d once fooled her with; the Jackalope story. He hadn’t noticed her yet, so she leant quietly against a wooden column and folded her arms, listening to the same soothing drawl that lulled her to sleep on the bad nights. He didn’t understand all that she did to keep Jorvik and then the world from descending into chaos, but he knew all about nightmares. And he was the one thing that kept them at bay for her, just as she did for him.

“…I zagged and I zigged, but the beast caught me… with the razor-sharp teeth of a rabbit and the pent up anger of an antelope, it gored me through my favourite foot!”

Charlie covered her mouth with her sleeve, suppressing a snigger. She knew this game of his well. He’d see how ridiculous he could get before someone caught on. It was how they whiled away the long hours of herding cattle between Starshine and Mistfall, him with his story-telling and her backing him up, straight-faced, as they rode along.

“When the winter wind blows, I still feel the sting…” Josh dropped his voice ominously, and Charlie gained a petty amusement from the way the younger teens clung to each other’s arms, “…and my foot’s never been the same since. I won’t show you the scar, the sight of it would horrify you! To this day I can’t take my boots off in front of others.”

He straightened up from his looming posture and the young riders glanced at each other nervously, clearly spooked. Charlie remembered being at their stage well. Experienced enough to know that Jorvik was a magical place, and yet…not wise enough to know what to believe.

“What do ya think?” Josh asked cheerfully, seemingly unaware of his nervous audience, but Charlie caught the glint of mischief in his hazel-green eyes. He looked around, finally spotting her. She lifted one hand from her folded arms, gave him a tiny wave. He gave that heart-flipping grin of hers, and a sly wink. Play along. She could do that.

“Well obviously,” she said, keeping her voice neutral and deadpan as she pushed off the column and sauntered forwards, “you zagged when you should have zigged.”

Her words garnered the attention of the teens, and she heard their flurry of whispers. All things she’d heard before.

“…she’s the one who got trained by those weird druids…”

“…I heard her horse is the bravest in Jorvik …”

“…well I heard they’re both equally crazy…they ride stunts no sane person or horse would try…”

“…she knows Anne Von Blyssen, the dressage rider…”

But she kept her attention on Josh. The teens’ distraction gave him enough time to arrange his face in a very good mockery of surprise.

“You mean some kinda zig-zag manoeuvre? That’s so crazy it might actually work! Gotta pass that to my buddies in the US.”

“You do that.” Charlie remarked with a grin, before turning to the teens. “Alright kids, story time’s over. You guys have horses to take care of.”

They scattered faster than those unnervingly stealthy chickens at Sunfield Farm. Chas wandered up to Josh, stepping into his waiting embrace and wrapping her arms around his torso. She buried her face in his shirt, breathing in his scent. Pine and fresh air and saddle oil.

“Hi,” she said happily into his shoulder, tightening her hold as his hand stroked her hair, “what brings you to Steve’s?”

“Hi yourself darlin’,” he responded quietly, “picking up some feed for Mary’s sheep. What are you up to then?”

Charlie gestured vaguely behind her in the direction of the sleigh. “Taking supplies up to Redwood Point. Can’t get a lorry up that slope with the snow, never mind over the bridge.”

Charlie gave an internal shudder at the thought of any motor vehicle trying to cross that stone arch in snow. It was bad enough without. She felt Josh’s chin move on her hair as he looked towards the sleigh.

“Smart.” he said approvingly, and she felt a pleased warmth at the compliment, stepping back from his embrace to move around to his side. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, and she put hers around his waist, as they wandered outside, strides in sync. “Looks like we’ve got a little time before they finish loading.”

Charlie gave a hum of agreement. She glanced over to the young riders, now fetching their mounts from Steve’s paddock. Their orange tops, swapped from t-shirts to thick fleeces for the winter, marked them out as visitors. Their loaned horses, the Jorvik Warmbloods that Moorland specialised in, were shaggy with their thick winter fur. Charlie was pleased to note there were a couple of boys among the riders. Moorland’s riding camps had always had a bit of a gender imbalance, but that seemed to be changing.

“I remember being one of them.” Chas said a little nostalgically, shooting Josh a mischievous grin as they ambled up to the runestone on the tiny hill behind Steve’s taking in the view. “Simpler times, eh?”

“Worse times,” Josh said firmly, “because I wasn’t with you.”

“You sap.” Charlie nudged him affectionately with her elbow, before standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, fully aware of just how cold her lips were. He retaliated by tickling her ribs under her thick fisherman-knit jumper and she squirmed away, putting her hands on her hips in mock-offence. He pouted teasingly at her, before opening his arms. Unable to stay mad at him, even as a joke, she accepted his hug.

“First time I saw you, you were one of them,” Josh recalled, gazing down towards Moorland. Chas cocked her head and he glanced at her from the corner of his eye, “but I never told you about that, did I?”

Chas shook her head. “You have to tell me now.”

Josh cleared snow off the low stone wall and sat, pulling him down with her. “It was in the days before the ranch, when I still worked at Moorland…”

“A year before,” Chas recalled, “that was when I arrived.”

“Right,” Josh nodded, “your hair was all blonde and spiky and short then.”

Chas held a strand of her long red hair and examined it. Sometimes she still thought she could see blonde dye at the very ends, though it had been so long since she’d dyed it.

“Anyway, there you were, this spiky scrap of a girl with that stallion that everyone else gave up on for his temper, but you saw yourself in him…and I remember lookin’ at you two and thinking…”

They looked like they’d like to fight the world. And they looked like they might just win too.

That was what Josh thought when he saw them. Loretta had wandered over to introduce the newest batch of summer campers, giving him some half-hearted flirting since Justin wasn’t paying her any attention. As usual, the oblivious boy remained…well, oblivious.

They were the usual bunch of fresh-faced horsey hopefuls, wide-eyed and wondering. Most of them were British, and stared at his Western gear in abject fascination.

But she was different. It wasn’t that she wasn’t British. She was, and when she spoke it was a Highland Scots accent that sounded like the river rolling over smooth stones. It was her attitude. She stood apart from the others, tall and lean as a whip, golden eyes distrustful and sharp as a fox. At her back stood that stallion, Stargazer. Josh knew that stallion all too well. He was a rescue. Nobody knew his past, but he treated each human as though they were his mortal enemy. He’d launched the farrier through a stable partition just last week, and nobody in Moorland stables hadn’t experienced the fiery chestnut’s wrath. With the exception of Justin, the only human Stargazer seemed to tolerate. And even then, only barely.

Yet here that fiery devil-horse stood, muzzle nearly touching this strange girl’s shoulder. He was more fierce than a knight guarding a royal, or a dragon guarding a damsel, like in the stories Josh’s mother had read him as a child, tucked up in bed in their Wyoming mountain cabin. What kind of magic had she worked? Not, of course, that magic was real (or so he thought at the time) but if it was, she had to have used it.

Her hair was in spikes that seemed to represent her personality. When she answered a question her responses were often monosyllabic, always cutting. Her face was striking, a straight arrogant nose, a strong, sharp jaw, heavily freckled from the summer sun, but never showed a smile or even a twitch of her lips.

Josh was intrigued by her, he couldn’t deny it. His mother had never tired of reminding her that troubled people led others into trouble, but he found himself around the troubled ones, humans and horses alike, all too often.

“Charlie Rainford. Strange kid.” Thomas had remarked, his dark eyes, so like his son’s, watching the new riders take care of their horses. The girl, Charlie, seemed to be in her own world with Stargazer, the usually temperamental stallion dozing as she brushed him. “Won’t talk about her parents or home life at all. Just that they sent her here to get her out of the way. Horses make her happy, and she’s a natural. I’d swear she’s ridden before- and maybe she has. But she’s reckless- rides like the Devil’s chasing her. And if she doesn’t, then the horse runs like it anyway. They’re bad as each other.”

Josh let his gaze drift to her again. “He thrown her off yet?”

“He tried. Bucking, bolting, nearly flipped over. Went the whole nine yards. She stuck like a limpet and hasn’t had a problem since.”

Josh was fascinated. What had made Stargazer take to her? Why hadn’t she given up on the sour horse like everyone else?

From that day on, as much as Josh tried to break the habit, he couldn’t help but notice Charlie Rainford whenever she was nearby.

“Really? I caught your attention even then?” Charlie was amazed. She remembered that first meeting. She’d been hurt and a little disoriented over her parents abruptly launching her to Jorvik, finally having had enough of her constant chaos and troublemaking in a desperate bid to get them to look at her, their daughter, rather than an expense, someone to be paraded at parties for all their rich friends then hidden away again. Jorvik was strange, loud and confusing. The only thing that had made sense was Stargazer, that let-down, angry look in his eyes the same as hers, and she’d known instinctively that all he needed was someone who wouldn’t give up on him.

She’d noticed Josh as she trailed at the back of the group, distancing herself. He’d seemed friendly, polite, but distant. A couple of years older than most of the summer camp riders. She’d heard the other girls whispering about him in the stables, about how “cute” he was. All she’d seen was another person to potentially let her down if she got close. So she’d stuck to Stargazer, the horse becoming her rock and anchor, the only thing that supported her as her world was turned upside down by magic and mayhem.

Eventually though, that had changed. The quiet, calming manner Josh always had around spooked horses had gradually worked on her, settling her. He’d shared his dreams of having a ranch with her, and in response to him letting his guard down, she’d confided her past in him. Though he hadn’t quite understood the whole Soul Rider business, he’d supported her through it, eased her grief over Elizabeth when the time came. And she always knew when he needed a distraction from his homesickness, or just someone to listen to him.

At the end of Charlie’s summer camp, she’d flat-out told her parents she wasn’t coming home. She was a legal adult, Jorvik needed her and accepted her for who she was. The other reason, of course, was her steadily growing love for Josh, which she hadn’t admitted to anyone then, not even to herself.

The admission of their feelings had come at Christmas last year, in a beautiful yet all-too-cliche mistletoe moment carefully set up by Alex and Maya (with how clueless those two were about eachother, Charlie thought, it was a miracle they’d clued into Josh and Charlie) at a party hosted by the Moorlands. And now, here they were. Charlie looked at Josh’s side profile, suddenly aware of how very lucky she was. He turned his head and caught her looking, smiling at her. She traced his features with her gaze.

“What are you lookin’ at?” he asked her, pulling her closer against his side. Charlie shook her head, feeling a faint warmth in her cheeks.

“Nothing at all,” she murmured, “merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

He tilted her chin up with a finger, dropping a sweet kiss on her lips before grinning at her. “And happy anniversary too.”

#sso #star stable online #star stable fanfic #star stable christmas #star stable josh #christmas fanfiction

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madzilla84 · 4 years

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Do you play animal crossing? I can't decide if I should try it. If you play it would you share what you like about it?

Oh, anon! *Thank you* for this ask and thus the chance to ramble about Animal Crossing, because YES I DO.

(I cut it because it got long AF, unsurprisingly)

Back in 2013, shortly after Animal Crossing: New Leaf came out, I was on holiday in NYC and pretty depressed (I know! In NYC! But it turns out it follows you anywhere, what a snek), and I was wandering aimlessly around, and found myself in the Nintendo store (as you do). I'd never played Animal Crossing before, but I tried out the newly released New Leaf on one of the shop demo consoles, and immediately bought one (cheaper there, plus it came in purple!!) and the game. I sort of told myself it'd be useful for the long journey home, and then I could maybe dip into it every so often and maybe get some other games.

I never did get another game for my 3DS, as I was immediately hooked on AC, and remained so for the next year-and-a-half (until my first video game love, Dragon Age, released a new instalment). I also play the AC app, Pocket Camp, which came out in 2017, but it's quite a lot less engaging and fun due to its microtransactions system (typical mobile game) and repetitive challenges. It's still cute though.

In its most basic form, Animal Crossing is a community/life sim/sandbox, where you play a human villager (or islander, in this new instalment) who lives in a town/island populated entirely by cute, anthropomorphic animals. The animals have different personalities and you can befriend them by completing simple tasks for them, visiting their homes or giving them gifts. (Or whack them in the head with your butterfly net if you don't like them and want to them to leave. Aww.) In the last title, New Leaf, you arrived as the town's new mayor, whereas in the new one, you're arriving on a deserted island as a new resident.

Usually, you start off with nowhere to live and no money, and through collecting items and completing tasks you earn Bells (£££) to be able to buy and upgrade a house, buy furniture, tools, clothes, etc. You can also craft and customise items, and design your own clothes. As you develop your town/island, more facilities wilt open such as shops and other businesses; you unlock other places you can travel to, you can go deep-sea diving, fishing, bug hunting, shell collecting and fossil digging. This is how you make money, but you also fill your town/island's museum with all your findings, turning it into an amazing exhibit. (Which is actually interactive! When you complete a full dinosaur skeleton, you get DINO FACTS for each one!) The new museum/aquarium in New Horizon; looks *incredible*.

It's quite a slow progression - it's impossible to like just obsessively play for hours and unlock everything, there's a lot of You Must Wait baked into the game, which is actually really satisfying as there's a real sense of progression and milestones and achievement over time. Some stuff is seasonal, like rare fish you can only catch in the summer at a certain time of day. You really see the impact you're having on this little town, as it progresses from a handful of tents and a shack to a thriving community filled with animals and shops and architecture. Your villagers have set birthdays, and will invite you to birthday parties at their home.

There's so much I love about AC. I find it absorbing and relaxing - the world is beautiful and cute, and the music is lilting and soothing. It's a persistent world, so it carries on when you're not there and things change regularly, so it encourages checking in every day. The shops sell different items each day, the fruit and flowers regrow, etc. If you don't play for quite a long time, your animal friends will notice and become concerned. (Or leave town. Rude) There's so much to do, but it's all optional - some people love the collecting aspect and want to find every fish and bug in the game. Others just want to expand and decorate their house, while others just want to play with friends. Others only care about populating their town with their absolute favourite animals and focussing on friendships with them. You have 'daily tasks' that will be available every day but you don't have to do them; it really is something you can play for 15 minutes or 5 hours. (And your animals will gently chide you if you play too long without a break, aww, thanks Uncle Nintendo)

It has seasons that reflect the real world, so it's winter in-game when it's winter where you are, and the landscape and plants will change to reflect that. (Cherry blossom, sun, autumn leaves, snow!) There's variety in weather and it also reflects the time of day, so if you log in at 2am, it's 2am in game. (There is nothing more cute than logging in to find it's raining and all your animals are walking around with little umbrellas awwwww) It makes it feel like you're visiting a real, tiny world in your console. There are also in-game events reflecting real world ones like Easter, Valentine's Day, or Christmas.

AC really did help me a lot. I found playing it in the evenings so relaxing at the end of the day, I loved being able to be creative with how I designed my town, I loved the sense of community I found with my little group of animals I got so fond of. (Oh, the pain when one of them moved unexpectedly! Noooo!) I'm *so excited* for the new game - it looks absolutely gorgeous from what I've seen so far, and they've added so much new stuff, as well as addressing a few irritating niggles from previous titles.

The world is scary and stressful more than it's ever been these days, and Animal Crossing’s uncomplicated niceness and goodness couldn't have come along at a better time. I've never wanted to yeet myself off to a cute, abandoned island more, tbh.

Some videos!

Nintendo Direct: New Horizons [Nintendo]

Animal Crossing and Mental Health [Boldly Wired]

Animal Crossing Ruined My Life [AmazingPhil]

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salems-varieties · 5 years

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Anime for Halloween

I should have posted this before my movies list. But hell, It’s here now and Y’all can binge-watch over the next month. But little disclaimer. These are anime I have seen and ones I associate with Halloween because they have to do with something from the holiday. So anything with Vampires, witches, demons, etc. Anything I got a Halloween-y vibe from. This list is gonna be kind of long. Now time for me to suffer typing it and yall to get an idea from reading it.

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Title

Synopsis

My thoughts on the Anime

Everything in bold is strictly my opinion. Agree to disagree with me, and put down your own opinion in repost or in the comments but be respectful. Rude or anything of the sort will be deleted or reported depending on the severity.

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07-Ghost

Teito Klein, a student at the academy, is one of the most promising soldiers produced. Although ridiculed by everyone for being a sklave (German for slave) with no memories of his past, he is befriended by a fellow student called Mikage. While preparing for the final exam, Teito uncovers a dark secret related to his past. When an attempt to assassinate Ayanami, a high-ranking official who killed his father, fails, Teito is locked away awaiting punishment.

This one is religious, HOWEVER, Demons and the Gods of Death kinda make it more Halloween-y so :p Also as a side note; It’s only subbed so all y’all who prefer dub are gonna be disappointed.

Ancient Magus Bride

Chise Hatori, a 15-year-old Japanese girl, was sold for five million pounds at an auction to a tall masked gentleman. Abandoned at a young age and ridiculed by her peers for her unconventional behavior, she was ready to give herself to any buyer if it meant having a place to go home to. In chains and on her way to an unknown fate, she hears whispers from robed men along her path, gossiping and complaining that such a buyer got his hands on a rare "Sleigh Beggy." Ignoring the murmurs, the mysterious man leads the girl to a study, where he reveals himself to be Elias Ainsworth—a magus. After a brief confrontation and a bit of teleportation magic, the two open their eyes to Elias' picturesque cottage in rural England. Greeted by fairies and surrounded by weird and wonderful beings upon her arrival, these events mark the beginning of Chise's story as the apprentice and supposed bride of the ancient magus.

I love this one so much. My only issue is what would have made it more Halloween inspired would have been if they’s gone through Samhain and not skipped straight to Yule. BUT monsters, mages, witches, alchemists, and fae make this anime perfect for magic inspire Halloween watch.

Another

In 1972, a popular student in Yomiyama North Middle School's class 3-3 named Misaki passed away during the school year. Since then, the town of Yomiyama has been shrouded by a fearful atmosphere, from the dark secrets hidden deep within.

Horror, horror, horror and gore. Enjoy this with friends and family who have a strong stomach and are old enough to not get scared. The deaths are absolutely horrific and it takes place all around a middle school class. (Read the novel, of the same name, it’s based off if you dare)

Ao no Exorcist

Humans and demons are two sides of the same coin, as are Assiah and Gehenna, their respective worlds. The only way to travel between the realms is by the means of possession, like in ghost stories. However, Satan, the ruler of Gehenna, cannot find a suitable host to possess and therefore, remains imprisoned in his world. In a desperate attempt to conquer Assiah, he sends his son instead, intending for him to eventually grow into a vessel capable of possession by the demon king.

Anyone who’s been around anime long enough knows or knows of this anime. Who wouldn’t have added this into their Halloween Anime list? It has to do with Demons and the Son of Satan.

Black Butler

Young Ciel Phantomhive is known as "the Queen's Guard Dog," taking care of the many unsettling events that occur in Victorian England for Her Majesty. Aided by Sebastian Michaelis, his loyal butler with seemingly inhuman abilities, Ciel uses whatever means necessary to get the job done. But is there more to this black-clad butler than meets the eye?

Classic as well. Don’t forget the movies and season 3. We don’t speak of season 2 0.0″ Also the manga has taken a VERY dark turn as of recent so if you’re looking for reading material, there you go.

Blood-C

Peaceful schoolgirl by day, fearsome monster slayer by night, Saya Kisaragi is leading a split life. Equipped with a ceremonial sword given to her by her father for sacred tasks, she vanquishes every monster who dares threaten her quiet little village. But all too soon, Saya's reality and everything she believes to be true is tested, when she overhears the monsters speak of a broken covenant—something she knows nothing about. And then, unexpectedly, a strange dog appears; it asks her to whom she promised to protect the village, curious as to what would happen if she were to break that promise. Tormented by unexplainable visions and her world unraveling around her, we travel with Saya through her struggle to find a way to the truth in a village where nothing is as it seems.

Another very gory anime. Children, please do avoid.

Bloodivores

60 years ago, a strange case of insomnia struck the population, forcing them to stay awake for more than a full week. The victims, completely sleep deprived, all went mad. To cure this illness, a new medicine was produced, but the side effects turned the patients into vampires. Humanity went to war against this new species and triumphed, but some of the vampires managed to survive. Born from a Human and a Vampire, the main character Mi Liu, "The Child of Hope," is to represent the new hope that will connect the two species. Ringleader of a bank robbery, Mi Liu is arrested and transferred to a special prison of the National Defense Agency that monitors Vampires.

Genetically created vampires. Need I say more?

Blood Lad

Staz Charlie Blood is a powerful vampire who rules the Eastern district of Demon World. According to rumors, he is a bloodthirsty and merciless monster, but in reality, Staz is just an otaku obsessed with Japanese culture and completely uninterested in human blood. Leaving the management of his territory to his underlings, Staz spends his days lazing around, indulging in anime, manga, and games.

A vampire otaku... Thank you, this is exactly what I needed.

D.Gray-Man

Losing a loved one is so painful that one may sometimes wish to be able to resurrect them—a weakness that the enigmatic Millennium Earl exploits. To make his mechanical weapons known as "Akuma," he uses the souls of the dead that are called back. Once a soul is placed in an Akuma, it is trapped forever, and the only way to save them is to exorcise them from their vessel using the Anti-Akuma weapon, "Innocence."

*Piece of advice. D. Gray-Man the first series was not finished in Dub if you’re one who prefers Dub. So heading into D. Gray-Man Hollow, you’ll be confused as hell. It’s best to just watch Sub so you don’t have to worry about missing a huge chunk of info.

But if you like anime about demons and exorcists there’s more than just Blue Exorcist. This one I suggest because it’s phenomenal, but that’s personal opinion XD

Dance with Devils

Ritsuka Tachibana has always been a good student, so she is completely shocked when she is suddenly summoned by the student council. Even more, they seem to think of Ritsuka as a troublemaker. Led by the handsome Rem Kaginuki, the student council—also consisting of Urie Sogami, Shiki Natsumizaka, and Mage Nanashiro—tries to question her, but it soon becomes clear that they have ulterior motives.

This is one based off an Otome (Dating game) so try YT for gameplay if you wanna see the whole story. Yet another about demons and exorcists, but this time there are vampires and Cerberus added to the mix. Plus for those who know-how Otome heroines are basically pushovers, this one has a strong-willed girl as our protagonist. Thank you, Ritsuka for breaking the mold T/\T

Diabolik Lovers

At the behest of her father, Yui Komori goes to live in a secluded mansion, home to the six Sakamaki brothers—Shuu, Reiji, Ayato, Kanato, Laito, and Subaru—a family of vampires. Though at first the siblings are confused as to why the girl has arrived, they soon realize that she is to be their new "sacrificial bride," not to mention their other, more carnal intentions for her. After meeting the brothers, Yui quickly begins to question why her father would have sent her here and why she feels a strange, new pain in her chest. With each brother more sadistic than the last, Yui's life as a captive takes a harrowing turn in her new home. As her days turn into endless nights, and each brother vows to make her his own, Yui falls deeper and deeper into madness and ecstasy.

Otome with like 4? games, try YT for gameplay. I’m a little sad that it only has two seasons and the episodes are like 13-15 minutes long. Still, if you like Otome based games, you’ve most likely seen this. DO NOT EXPECT VANILLA ROMANCE. THIS IS NOT A FUN RIDE IF YOU EXPECT THAT.

Death Note

A shinigami, as a god of death, can kill any person—provided they see their victim's face and write their victim's name in a notebook called a Death Note. One day, Ryuk, bored by the shinigami lifestyle and interested in seeing how a human would use a Death Note, drops one into the human realm.

Classic... But not my personal cup of tea. I added it because it’s a salute to one of my dear friends.

Little Witch Academia

"A believing heart is your magic!"—these were the words that Atsuko "Akko" Kagari's idol, the renowned witch Shiny Chariot, said to her during a magic performance years ago. Since then, Akko has lived by these words and aspired to be a witch just like Shiny Chariot, one that can make people smile. Hence, even her non-magical background does not stop her from enrolling in Luna Nova Magical Academy.

This one is just cute and intense. Witches are starting to die out but one girl wants desperately to be a witch like her idol was. I love how this brings in witchy elements and some fairy tale elements.

Makai Ouji: Devils and Realist

The story revolves around William, an aristocratic family's progeny with rare intellect. One day, his uncle lost his possessions after his business failed. Fearing that his family's name has been tarnished, William returns home and searches with his family's butler for anything that can be converted into cash. A search of the premises yields an underground room left by an ancestor. In the room is a magical seal, and William unintentionally summons a devil. The summoned devil tells William his name Dantalion and reveals that William is the designator who can choose the acting ruler of the demon world.

If realists were like William, I think the world would be on fire. The poor people that have to deal with him. At least most of them are demons, maybe that will knock his head into gear... right?

Miira No Kaikata

High school student Sora Kashiwagi is accustomed to receiving bizarre presents from his father, who is on an expedition around the world. Unfortunately, these gifts have been nothing but nightmares. As a result, when his father sends him a huge package from Egypt, Sora prepares himself for the worst, only to be greeted by Mii-kun—a cute, pint-sized mummy! While initially wary, Sora soon learns that Mii-kun is harmless, a delicate creature yearning for attention.

I can understand people who don’t like horror or gore. I was there once. So here’s a cute anime about a boy and his pet mummy. Sanrio really did a great job turning the manga, which was darker than the anime, into something so cute and so wholesome.

Mirai Nikki

Lonely high school student, Yukiteru Amano, spends his days writing a diary on his cellphone while conversing with his two seemingly imaginary friends Deus Ex Machina, who is the god of time and space, and Murmur, the god's servant. Revealing himself to be an actual entity, Deus grants Yukiteru a "Random Diary," which shows highly descriptive entries based on the future and forces him into a bloody battle royale with 11 other holders of similarly powerful future diaries.

I have no word on this.

Owari no Seraph

With the appearance of a mysterious virus that kills everyone above the age of 13, mankind becomes enslaved by previously hidden, power-hungry vampires who emerge in order to subjugate society with the promise of protecting the survivors, in exchange for donations of their blood.

The Apocolypse starts and vampires rule the world. I dunno if that sounds like heaven or hell for me? But in this world, it would certainly be hell. Vampires rule the world but that doesn't mean the humans are gone. An army rises to protect what’s left from the bloodsuckers. And did I mention demons? Along with the concept of corrupt angels? Oh yeah, that’s gotta be hell on earth.

Pandora Hearts

To young Oz Vessalius, heir to the Vessalius Duke House, the perilous world called the Abyss is nothing more than a folktale used to scare misbehaving children. However, when Oz's coming-of-age ceremony is interrupted by the malicious Baskerville Clan intent on banishing him into the depths of the Abyss, the Vessalius heir realizes that his peaceful life of luxury is at its end. Now, he must confront the world of the Abyss and its dwellers, the monstrous "Chains," which are both not quite as fake as he once believed.

I couldn't have found a better gif for this anime. It’s Alice in Wonderland inspired but with a much darker twist than what Disney gave us (and yes I do mean both the original and the Tim Burton version). Enjoy this one because it’s not all dark there is humor to break up the heart-wrenching. But don’t expect it to always be comical.

Phantom in the Twilight

Set in modern-day London, the story takes place in a world where "Shadows" are born from human fear and anxiety. A young girl arrives to study abroad, only to be caught in a bizarre incident as she enters university. In a city with no acquaintances, the helpless girl wanders into "Café Forbidden," a mysterious café that exclusively opens at midnight. She meets an assortment of handsome men employed at the café, where guardians who protect the boundary between humans and shadow convene

Vampires, werewolves, ghosts, and even demons; this one would be great for Halloween. I will admit though, it’s lackluster considering these guys are supposed to be Dracula, the Wolfman, and so on. It might be someone’s cup of tea, just not everyone’s

Rosario to Vampire

Youkai Academy is a seemingly normal boarding school, except that its pupils are monsters learning to coexist with humans. All students attend in human form and take normal academic subjects, such as literature, gym, foreign language, and mathematics. However, there is one golden rule at Youkai Academy—all humans found on school grounds are to be executed immediately!

I couldn’t get through this one. I’m not gonna lie. It was basically light hentai and I’m not into that kinda stuff, but I feel like someone would have called me out for it not being here so T-T

Servamp

Mahiru Shirota firmly believes that simple is best and troublesome things should be avoided at all costs. It is troublesome to do nothing and regret it later—and this ideology has led the 15-year-old to pick up a stray cat on his way home from school. As he affectionately names the feline Kuro, little does he know that this chance meeting will spark an extraordinary change in his everyday life.

I’m gonna be completely honest, the manga was better. I love the anime don’t get me wrong. I’ve rewatched it many times. But it cut out so much from the manga. So as an anime, watch it first before reading the manga, then go back and nitpick. If you do it the other way around you may be more disappointed.

Soul Eater

Death City is home to the famous Death Weapon Meister Academy, a technical academy headed by the Shinigami—Lord Death himself. Its mission: to raise "Death Scythes" for the Shinigami to wield against the many evils of their fantastical world. These Death Scythes, however, are not made from physical weapons; rather, they are born from human hybrids who have the ability to transform their bodies into Demon Weapons, and only after they have consumed the souls of 99 evil beings and one witch's soul. This one is perfect for Halloween with it’s dark but funny themes. If you prefer the cutesier stuff like I do sometimes try Soul Eater NOT! The concept of soul-eating monsters and a school that teaches teens to fight and destroy them, A+ content. Plus some of those teens turn into actual weapons. Where is my sign up sheet? I would gladly take that over normal boring high school. Also add the grim reaper into the mix then give him a funny voice and disposition. Gold I tell ya.

Togainu no Chi

In the wake of a third world war that left Japan in ruins, an organization known as Vischio seized control of Tokyo and renamed it Toshima. Taking place in its back alleys are battle games known as Igura, overseen by the Vischio, in which contestants battle and bathe in each other's blood to earn the chance to go up against its tournament's king, Il-re.

This one is for all my lovely fujoshi/fudanshi peoples. It’s a dark anime and based off a rated M, BL Otome. Sinners welcome.

Tokyo Ghoul

Tokyo has become a cruel and merciless city—a place where vicious creatures called “ghouls” exist alongside humans. The citizens of this once great metropolis live in constant fear of these bloodthirsty savages and their thirst for human flesh. However, the greatest threat these ghouls pose is their dangerous ability to masquerade as humans and blend in with society.

This one is mainstream for a reason. It’s a good story, anime or manga. Mainly manga. Anyway, I haven’t seen Re yet, but I’ve heard it’s sheit. Still gonna watch it though cause why the hell not.

Uragiri wa Boku no Namae wo Shitteiru

Growing up as an orphan, Yuki Sakurai questions his reason for living and the ability to see a person's painful memory by simply touching them. After receiving anonymous notes telling him to die, Yuki is unable to shake off the nagging feeling forming inside of him. Unbeknownst to him, he is being watched, both by people who want to harm him and those who want to protect him.

Reincarnation from a girl to a boy and the girl had a hot lover that is now with her male reincarnation. And the lover is a vampire. Man, that’s confusing but the story is good. I have yet to read the manga. The anime was great from what I can remember, so give it a shot. It’s another BL anime, so proceed with caution.

Vampire Knight

Cross Academy is an elite boarding school with two separate, isolated classes: the Day Class and the Night Class. On the surface, Yuuki Cross and Zero Kiryuu are prefects of the academy and attempt to keep order between the students as classes rotate in the evenings. As the Night Class is full of utterly gorgeous elites, this can sometimes prove to be a bit difficult. It is completely necessary, however, as those "elites" are actually vampires. Yuuki and Zero act as guardians, protecting the secrets of the Night Class and the safety of their ignorant morning counterparts.

If twilight was an anime, but Bella and Edward were siblings and Jacob was another vampire. This is not a great anime but let's face it, some of us watched it as preteens, enjoyed it, and were head over heels for Zero and/or Kaname. It’s a trash anime, but great for those who are 21 and over. Do I hear drinking games, anyone?

All synopsis came from My Anime List (where the links take you). Also, I’m sorry it’s a lot to read, I just didn’t want to cut them down. Feel free to add what you think should have been on here, or what you think is a Halloween favorite on reposts. Comments are welcome and have a happy spooky season!

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chernyaevs · 5 years

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MISHA CHERNYAEV, the MAGNATE, is 23 and a SENIOR. HE is majoring in BUSINESS. They are not part of the Imperium Society and from the outside, they think it’s A CIRCLEJERK FOR KIDS THAT WERE 'GIFTED' IN ELEMENTARY. I often see them around campus PLAYING WITH HIS DOG. They remind me of TUCKED IN SHIRTS, HIGHLIGHTED BOOK PASSAGES, HALF FINISHED MUGS OF COFFEE, AN ECHOING VOICE.

piper here again with a less sunshiney baby! i have a bit more to say upfront about misha because i made rue on impulse at 2 am and i’ve actually been brainstorming for him for a week straight now! anyway, i actually have a small compilation of wc at the bottom. i know. it’s a miracle. (THIS ENDED UP LONG I’M SORRY. I ADDED A DOG GIF AT THE BOTTOM FOR YOUR PATIENCE!)

was born in the summer time (gemini energy) in a rich village located right outside of moscow as the youngest child in the seven person family. the chernyaev’s are an extremely influential name in western russia, and that reputation has passed down to all of their five children.

two of his four siblings detested the tycoon lifestyle upheld by their parents; one now works in hong kong as a chef, while the other studies art in milan. this has left misha alone with his two other siblings to bare the brunt of work and reputation.

he lived a secluded childhood, the gap between him and his closest sibling being 8 years and his social skills being less than fine-tuned during his elementary years; accidental insensitivity because of his upraising, crude words he learned from inattentive parents, etc. which still lingers to this day.

around age 9 or so he began to display early symptoms of OCD. his family brushed them off for three or so years until his habits became hard to ignore.

his obsession with judaism, despite coming from a family of secular jews, was what tipped off his mother first. he would beg to be taken to synagogue and spent a few hours at night trying to learn hebrew. if/when interrupted, he would start all over again from the beginning.

he would also never touch anything that came in uneven numbers. the number he likes to count in is 4. he developed multiple counting/touching rituals with things as time progressed and his illness went unchecked.

eventually he was diagnosed and treated at age 13. he’s had his ups and downs with medication and was involuntarily admitted into a psycho ward at age 16. but things began to look up on his 17th birthday.

he was gifted a beautiful lil samoyed pup that he lovingly named yoshi, from his choice mario kart wii character. yoshi has been a great distraction from his sudden compulsions, and though he is no where near a ‘cure’ he serves a great purpose to misha.

misha was accepted into ashcroft with the, erm, assistance of his parents, who were also willing to pay his way into the society as well before he asked them to refrain; simply because he didn’t believe he had any exceptional talents outside of maths and mario kart, plus he didn’t want to be associate with ‘a bunch of jerkoffs’.

he’s had an ok four years! has a close-knit group of friends, doesn’t party that much, just enjoys hanging out with yoshi and studying. he’s taken a few classes in english literature, but he doesn’t expect it to go anywhere :/ he’s well aware of the obligations he has back in moscow.

for now he’s just chilling with his dog, who he takes everywhere. he still practices judaism though isn’t as dogmatic about his beliefs, and tries to keep a semi-low profile.

wanted connections:

seems like a married couple: please..... i would love this. someone who understands him in a very pure way and who he’s comfortable being a little bit affectionate with in public!! can also be a slowburn (;

roommates!!: misha rents off-campus because rich boy life. he wouldn’t charge that much just to have someone there to make him feel a little less alone, cause although he’s used to it, it can be a little disheartening.

study buddies: he’s wicked at math. can probably be bribed to do essays for you.

unlikely friends: someone who’s an extrovert and has more charisma than him, someone he can learn from considering he’s meant to be a hot shot business tycoon one day.

former lovers to friends: this would have to be discussed in pms lol, but i wouldn’t be surprised if he picked up a girlfriend at any point and shit just went downhill.

love/hate: i love angst. he’s not intentionally cold with most people but he would be with this person!! but he’d also sorta love them. you know how it be.

friends from holiday: misha traveled a lot during the summer months so any other rich kids out there hmu!! or i’ll hit u up. or just anyone who lived in a semi-nice location that a tycoon family would visit. thanks.

AND HERE IS YOSHI, THE BEST BOY

#class:intro #( this is so fuckng long i am sorry. )#( anyway like this and ill slide into the dms for plots/the wc listed ! )#( tw mental illess )#( tw ocd )

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lassluna · 5 years

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Christmas in the Tower

AN: Hi @bleebug Merry Christmas Eve! It’s me, your Knight Rook Secret Santa! I had a lot of fun conversing with you through asks. I hope you like this little story.

It’s Christmas time, but despite all of Killian’s planning for giving his daughter the best Christmas yet, things still don’t go as planned…

ao3 FFn

“Papa! Papa!” Did you feel that?”

He blinks, feeling shaken awake suddenly.

“Papa are you awake?” He smirks at the blonde lass doing the shaking. He isn’t exactly surprised; especially since he sees Alice, practically bouncing on her feet, still in her nightgown, illuminated by the candle by the bed.

“No.” He responds, closing his eyes but he can’t help the grin.

“But you responded.” She points out, he can practically hear the eye roll from her, and she’s nearly 10 years old, filled to the brim with attitude.

Liam would say she acts identical to how he was at this age.

“Perhaps I am awake then Starfish.” He murmurs snapping one eye open. “The question is why are you? The sun’s not even up.” He asks, maneuvering out of his hammock. In one swift movement he grabs his daughter, making her shriek and laugh as he tickles her.

“Do you feel that?” Alice asks between laughs. He stills, trying to understand what she felt.

A shiver crawls up his spine.

“It’s cold.” She announces with a smile.

“Oh?” He replies, already knowing where her mind is going. “And what does that mean darling?”

He smiles grows wider. “Christmas Papa.” She insists, like it’s completely obvious. “Christmas is coming!”

Considering Alice was trapped in the tower, Killian always tries to come up with ways to keep her happy and entertained. He hates that every day was so monotonous for her so he decided to come up with as many special days as possible. They had a holiday for just about anything he could think of. Some days were Mr. Rabbit birthdays.

(He was from Wonderland so he had birthdays several times a year according to 5 year old Alice.)

Other days were silent days, where they tried their best to be as absolutely quiet as possible. An extra hour is added to her bedtime is added if Alice won.

There was a Tea Day, Pirate Day, Papa’s Day, Daughter’s Day, Marmalade Day, anything she could think of, he tried his best to make happen.

However, of all the holidays they had, Christmas had to be Alice’s favorite.

She’d read about it in a book when she was young, a holiday from a realm Killian himself had never visited and became absolutely obsessed with it. Therefore they had to celebrate it as well. Killian would never pass up an opportunity to make Alice happy. So he did a bit of research on ‘Christmas’ through a bunch of stories and fables.

“When do you think Christmas will be here?” Alice asks jumping up and down. They’d decided that Christmas was the day that snow fell around their tower, usually occurring a few weeks after it starts to get cold.

Killian shrugs. “It’ll get here when it gets here.” He assures her. “In the meanwhile, why don’t you get me your favorite book, and I’ll make us some tea?” He asks.

Killian isn’t surprised at all when the book she picks is a Christmas book.

Within the next few weeks, Killian plans for the special holiday, trying to find the best things to make Alice really enjoy it.

First off, he’d found a new set of books, a brand new chess set (as they had several missing pieces, slowly being replaced by random do-dads they found) and best of all, he’d found a sorceress who would make a charm to let it snow inside for a bit.

Secondly, he’d found a tree big enough for Alice to decorate, but small enough that he could haul it up to her in the tower. It wasn’t exactly a pine like in all the books, but Alice always loved their make-shift Christmas tree.

It wasn’t exactly practical, but Killian would gladly clean up puddles of waters if it meant Alice got to really feel snow for once.

It would be absolutely perfect.

“I’m almost done with your present Papa!” Alice says smugly, ink smeared on her cheeks and splattered on her dress.

“Oh really?” he asks. She nods excitedly. “I’m sure I’ll love it.” He says taking off his jacket and putting it on its hook. The tower seems warmer than it should. However, he notices Alice wrapped up in her favorite wool blanket.

“Feeling alright sweetheart?” He asks. He always worries over the possibility of Alice getting sick. He knew from experience that neither healer, nor a midwife would dare come near the tower. There was a bug going around in town, so he’d hate to transfer it to his girl.

Alice nods. “Of course Papa.” She confirms. He places his hand on her forehead and feels her temperature. She feels perfect.

“Are you alright Papa?” She asks.

Killian nods. “Of course.” However, maybe he was a little tired from the walk from the village, he’s usually fine, but Killian wasn’t as young as he used to be. He knew he was aging, saw the streaks of white in his hair, he’d jokingly blame Alice for it, her and her tendency to climb on the shelves as a toddler.

Perhaps he just needs more sleep. He’d feel better in the morning.

Perhaps he was fine then, but the next morning, he felt a bit less than fine. His throat felt soar and talking just made it worse. He also had a splitting headache.

Also, when had it gotten so cold in the tower?

Getting up that morning, Killian felt every day of his 300 years and it was awful. He could barely remember the last time he felt this way, sure he knew he was getting older, naturally older, but still. Despite it, he got breakfast ready for Alice before she woke up. Today was the day Alice finished making her decorations and he’d go haul the tree up to her.

“Papa? You don’t look so good.” She points out; a frown on her face.

“I’m fine Starfish.” He assures her. She shakes her head, bounds up to him and places her small hand towards his face. She pulls back sharply.

“Papa, you’re really, really hot.” She points out. “Your eyes are red and you sound funny.”

He shakes his head. “I’m fine Al, don’t worry, just didn’t get much sleep last night.” It’s a lie, he had been surprisingly tired the night before, had gone to bed nearly immediately after Alice.

She doesn’t seem so sure, watching him quizzically (reminding him of Liam with that look of theirs) until he finishes making her breakfast; oatmeal with blueberries. Once she has her food, she is completely enwrapped in her food.

She doesn’t at all notice Killian check on the make shift pulley on the tower, nor descend down the tower far slower than usual. Killian’s coughing and wheezing by the bottom, feeling completely drained by the effort.

Perhaps there’s possibly a problem. Killian thinks to himself, leaning against the cool stone. Perhaps Papa isn’t truly invincible. He shakes his head.

He has to get the tree, it’s only a ways away; he reminds himself. The last thing Killian wants to do is disappoint his daughter on Christmas. Alice waits all year long for this day, for these events. After all Alice is prevented from doing, Killian refuses to be the cause of any more pain.

So he does what he has to do, he pulls himself forward to find the perfect tree and get it to his Starfish.

Perhaps it would have been best to get a smaller tree. Killian muses. He’d imagined it smaller.

Or he’s just getting old and frail and sick. Captain Hook could lug two of these trees double the size without breaking a sweat. Killian thinks bitterly. It’s a toxic line of thinking, but he just can’t help it. He can barely move after lugging it through the entire forest on his back, now the idea was using the pulley to bring it up the tower…

He looks around, then up at his daughter’s worried face.

“Are you ok Papa?” She calls.

He’s fine. He can do this.

Killian secures the tree tightly with various knots and loops, and then begins pulling the rope. He has it secure around his hook, using his entire body to haul the tree up. It’s a slow long process but not an unusual one. He does this occasion when he gets large amounts of supplies from the local village. Those were often heavier than this tree.

He’s nearly at the top, so close; he can see Alice’s smiling face. He can imagine her dancing and laughing around the tree as they decorate it, humming lyrics to songs they’ve never heard; making up the tunes as they go along.

Killian can see Alice pressed against the barrier, trying to reach out and help the tree along, its so close.

He doesn’t know if it’s the exertion, or the cold that causes it, but then he starts to cough. It was the body jerking kind of cough. It was all it took for him to lose his focus and the tie around his hook to slip off.

He didn’t even need to look up to know what the terrible crash he heard was from. His heart practically shattered in his chest as he saw the perfect little tree reduced to splinters by a mere slip of the hand.

Alice was looking down at them looking absolutely devastated.

“I’m so, so sorry Al.” He calls up to her. “I’ll go find another one!” He assures her, already thinking where he could go to find a better tree. It was a bit farther but he could do it, he coul- He was interrupted again by a wave of coughing that shook him to the core.

“Papa!” Alice shouts, he can see her banging on the barrier, each hit making the magic appear briefly. “Come home.” She insists.

“The tree-“

“Come home.” She says sternly. “Please Papa.”

Killian could never resist a ‘Please Papa.’ So he does make the climb, during which, he almost loses his balance a few times, almost becomes a pile of splinters himself.

He staggers inside, gasping and grateful for the tower’s warmth. Alice collided into him, making him lose his balance.

“I’m so sorry Alice.” He insisted. “I can go back and get another tree; we can still have a great Christmas.” He didn’t want to disappoint her. He couldn’t bare it.

But Alice shook her head smiling. “You’re sick Papa.” She reminds him.

“I’m fine Al.”

“Papa, you always tell me that no matter how much I deny it, the truth is the truth.” She says, sounding way too smart for her own good. “You need to rest. We can have a great Christmas without a tree.”

He could see her mind already racing. “Are you sure?” He asks again.

She nods, pushing him towards her bed.

“Alice, I have my own bed I can…” But she was insistent, even at 10 years old.

“You need a proper rest if you’re going to get better. I’ll take the hammock, I’m a big girl Papa.” Perhaps it was a testament to how badly he was feeling that he let his ten year old take care of him. He let her help him with his coat, and tuck him into bed.

It reminded him so much of her namesake.

Killian doesn’t remember closing his eyes. He just remembers opening them and seeing, where there once was a list of chores painted on the walls, now was a painting of a large Christmas tree in various shades of green.

(He had a feeling she did that on purpose)

He could barely move the next day, his breathing was worse, and according to Alice he felt hotter than the day previous.

Alice to her credit, refused to let him out of the bed, she made him tea and marmalade sandwiches.

“We’re going to get you all better Papa.” She insists, as he lays back and watches her decorate her tree. Her hand made ornaments secured with pins and glue. Garland made from paper and paint rather than cranberries as they were far too heavy for the pins and the glue. “And we can still have Christmas.”

He smiles and laughs at how much fun Alice is having. He thinks perhaps he hasn’t ruined everything. By the time Alice is finished, the tree looks absolutely beautiful.

He knows he’s too sick to go back into town for the new chess set, but at least he has the charm and the books, Alice can play in the snow right here inside and she could read the books while he cleaned up the water. Killian knows she’ll love it.

“How are you feeling Papa?” Alice asks after a bit, “I can warm up some broth.” She offers.

He shakes his head, he feels fine. He feels perfect here with Alice…

“Papa, you’re still really hot.” She sounds worried, but Killian can’t imagine why. Milah comes over, tucking Alice close to her.

“He’ll be fine Alice, he just needs rest.” She assures her. But Alice doesn’t look satisfied.

“Milah?” He calls. For some reason he doesn’t think Milah should be here, but he can’t remember why. She’s as beautiful as ever, looking every bit The Pirate Queen.

“Milah’s not here Papa.” Alice assures him. “Papa, it’s just the sickness talking, you need to tell me what to do to make you better.

“Just let him rest sweetheart, your father will be fine with a little rest.” Milah says, she takes his hand and holds it tight, he doesn’t want to let go. He’s so tired all of a sudden… “You’ve raised a beautiful young girl Killian.”

“Just let me rest Alice, Milah is here…she’ll watch over me…” He repeats. Milah never used to leave his side. Back before…before….

“She looks so much like you, she’s strong and resourceful, she can handle anything the world throws at her.” Killian nods in agreement.

“Where’ve you been Milah?” He asks, because seeing her here reminds him how much he’s missed her.

“Just watching over you my love. You’ve suffered for so long, but finally you found peace haven’t you?” He shakes his head. There is no peace, not in this tower, not without being free…

“Papa? She’s not here. Papa. You need to stay awake and tell me what to do…” Alice says, she sounds frantic, but he can’t imagine why…

“Then let’s be free Killian.”

“Papa?”

“Papa!”

Killian is cold when he wakes. And wet. It’s an odd sensation if he’s being honest.

“Papa?” He blinks and it takes a moment to open his eyes.

It’s dark out. He didn’t remember it getting so dark. He blinks again and he sees Alice’s face in his view, she’s putting something on his head, it’s we and dripping, but also strangely solid…like…snow?

“Starfish?” He responds. She’s drenched, bundled up in his pirate jacket. Her eyes are red and tear streaked. But she’s smiling now.

“Are you with me Papa?” she asks.

“Where else would I be?” Because Killian doesn’t exactly understand what happened, how did it become night time and why is there snow in the tower?

However, he sees the blue charm around Alice’s neck and the reality hits him suddenly. “You were burning up.” Alice insists. She sounds hurried and scared. “I’m sorry for riffling through your things, but I didn’t know what to do, you were talking to Milah and then Liam and then even someone named Swan…”

His fever must have been really high if he was talking to birds…

“I found this and it was so cold, but when I touched it there was Snow everywhere!” She admits with a grin. He could only imagine the face she had when she saw it. “I used it to cool you off. I’m sorry, I know you were saving it for something, you must have been for it to be in your super-secret pocket of your jacket…”

“How did you know about that?”

Alice rolls her eyes. “You used to hide candy in there Papa, of course I found it.” His clever girl.

“I’m so sorry Alice, that was supposed to be one of your Christmas presents.” He admits. “The other is in my other jacket pocket.” He explains because if the charm was ruined, at least she could have the books.

“You mean these Papa?” Alice asks, picking up a wet stack of books, edges ruined by water; because of course that had to get ruined too. “It’s alright Papa only some of the bages got damaged, we can write in all the missing words. They’ll be our own stories!” She says excitedly, practically beaming.

His beautiful girl, always trying to see the best of every situation, he smiled at her optimism. “I thought you deserved to have a day in the snow for once, but you had to use it to help me, I destroyed the tree and your presents are back in town…” He trails off. He’d ruined everything.

Alice shakes her head.

“Papa the only thing I need to have a good Christmas is you.” She says burrowing into him. “I was so scared that you wouldn’t wake up Papa, that I’d be alone. You being my Papa is the only thing I need.” Killian hugged her back, bringing his precious daughter close.

“You’re the only thing I need to Starfish.” He assures her.

“Do you think I can give you my present?” She asks with a hesitant voice. He nods.

“Of course darling.”

Alice goes to the shelf, fumbling to climb to a hidden nook she keeps; and pulls out a box, wrapped with her drawings and tied with a string. She places it in his lap.

Killian tries to be careful; keeping his snow drenched hands from damaging any of her pictures and carefully unwraps it.

It’s their chess set, but all the pieces are there. “Did you find the missing pieces?” He asks in surprise, picking up a black rook which he knew for a fact had been missing for months.

“Nope.”

He feels it in his hand and then he realizes. “You made it out of clay.” He turns it over, seeing her name etched in the bottom.

“The knight was the hardest one, but I like how it came out.” She insists. He picks that up as well, a white one this time. She’s right; it looks remarkably similar to its counterpart.

“Merry Christmas Papa.”

“Merry Christmas Alice.”

#knightrook #knightrook ff #knight rook secret santa #bleebug #lassluna

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hovercraft79 · 5 years

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Winter Song

Ch 30 Jingle Bells

Chapters: 30/31 Word Count: 1,761 Fandom: The Worst Witch (TV 2017) Rating: Teen Warnings: None Summary: Tonight is the big New Year’s Eve bash at Pentangle’s and Hecate, much to her dismay, has agreed to go. But Pippa knows her friend. And she has a few surprises up her sleeve to make Hecate’s night special.

Notes: This story is part of the B-Sides: Stories from the world of Hecate’s Summer Playlist series. It is a prequel to Hecate’s Summer Playlist.

Jingle Bells has been around forever. Pick whichever cover is your favorite.

THIS IS THE LAST ONE! I’m so glad I stuck this out and finished – I hope you are, too. As always, thanks to Sparky for all the editing. She’s a good sport about it every time. Also, I should say thanks to my family for leaving me to feed this little obsession. They’re great.

Hecate checked her bag one last time. She couldn’t believe she’d let Pippa talk her into spending New Year’s Eve at Pentangle’s Academy. The Pentangle’s New Year’s Eve party was famous – infamous really. Though Pippa had promised she’d enjoy herself, Hecate couldn’t imagine that would be true.

She flipped open her pocket watch and checked the time. Pippa had been very cagey about tonight’s plans, saying only that she should pack to spend the night and be waiting in front of Cackle’s at five-thirty in the evening. It was five twenty-eight. Hecate gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror, smoothing her hands down her Ordinary style jumper and woolen trousers. Again, Pippa’s instructions – dress warmly and be ready to blend in with the Ordinaries. She flicked her wrist and transferred to Cackle’s entry.

The cold hit her like a brick, and for a flash of time she was back in the ice. She pushed the feeling away, casting a warming spell so strong she would be sweating soon. She still didn’t know what all of this business was about; she could be at Pentangle’s in two easy transfers, or half an hour on her broom.

Ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching!

The sound started small, then grew, louder and louder with each passing second. A moment later a red carriage, pulled by a pair of white horses wheeled through the gate. The driver wore holiday green, matching the horses blankets, the upholstery and the swags of greenery decorating the carriage.

The only thing out of place was a deep pink figure riding in the back seat. Hecate cut the warming spell. She didn’t need it anymore. She watched the carriage swing around the drive, keeping her face impassive until the carriage swung to a stop in front of her.

“Hello, milady!” Pippa leaned out of the carriage offering Hecate a hand up. The driver was on the ground in an instant, taking Hecate’s bag and helping her into the carriage. In no time, Pippa had Hecate in the seat and tucked under a heavy quilt.

“What is all of this?” Hecate asked, inspecting the inside of the carriage and the quilt and… and how lovely Pippa looked in her pink coat and fuzzy white hat. “I don’t understand…” Merciful Merlin… was this a date? Hecate’s eyes widened.

“There’s nothing to understand, Hiccup.” Pippa could see the panic rising in Hecate, and she second-guessed herself again. “I’ve been getting ready for the party all day, and I wanted to relax a bit. With you. This seemed like a fun way to get you to Pentangle’s.” Pippa fluffed and tucked the quilt around them, making sure they were touching, but only just so. She didn’t want to make Hecate any more nervous than she was, or make her feel trapped in any way. “Do you like it?”

In truth? Hecate didn’t know if she liked it or not. But Pippa looked so hopeful and… well, she didn’t dislike it. “It’s… nice… I’ve never done the whole carriage ride thing before. It’s not as cold as I expected.”

Pippa leaned over so the driver couldn’t hear her, whispering in Hecate’s ear. “That’s because I chanted a little bubble over the carriage so it wouldn’t be too cold, just cold enough.” She leaned back, but not quite all the way, and she was immensely pleased when Hecate seemed to relax into her as well. “Isn’t the sky lovely tonight, Hiccup? It’s like you can see the whole Milky Way tonight.”

“It’s beautiful,” Hecate said, pulling her eyes away from Pippa to look up at the sky. “This is lovely. Thank you.”

“Thank you for coming tonight. I promise you’ll have a good time.”

Hecate doubted that. Even in the best of times, parties were not to her liking… but for Pippa she would try. “I’m sure I will.”

Pippa smiled reassuringly. “Would you like some hot cocoa? I got the dark kind that you like with the cinnamon and the hint of cayenne.” She reached into a basket on the floor of the carriage and pulled out two travel-mugs of cocoa. Hecate accepted gratefully.

“You remembered,” Hecate sighed, warming before she’d even taken a sip of the cocoa. One thing she had to admit about Pippa, she remembered details like that. To be honest, Hecate seldom drank cocoa at all anymore, but she’d always loved that particular mix. Pippa had returned to Amulet’s with it after a winter break had taken the Pentangles to Mexico. She’d given Hecate a canister of it every Christmas after, until there weren’t any Christmases after. Hecate hadn’t been able to buy it for herself.

“How could I forget? It’s just like you… dark and spicy…”

“And a little bit bitter?” Hecate said, drily.

Bright laughter bubbled up from Pippa at that. “Just the perfect amount, Hiccup – like good coffee and dark chocolate.” She bumped her with her shoulder. “You always made me laugh more than anyone else.”

Hecate relaxed into the carriage seat. She loved hearing Pippa laugh. Pippa had never laughed at her expense, even when they were girls and she was laughing at something Hecate had said or done. She never laughed at her. And Pippa had always laughed at herself more than anyone else. “You too, Pip. No one has ever made me laugh quite like you did.” It was true, too. She could play with Ada and be silly and Dimity… well, Dimity was amusing in her own way, but Hecate had never found the ability to just let go with anyone else in quite the same way. She wondered if that was still true or if their separation had stolen that as well.

Pippa leaned a bit heavier into her. “You’ve gone into your head, I think, Hecate. Flying after happy memories, I hope?”

“Memories of us from a long time ago,” she said, sadly. “I’m feeling the gap, I suppose.”

Nodding, Pippa hooked her arm through Hecate’s under the blanket. “It creeps up every now and again, doesn’t it, like a familiar chasing down its shadow? When that happens to me, I just focus on my very favorite memory of us until it goes away.”

Hecate turned away, watching the bright lights of the village as they rolled past. “Favorite memory? I don’t…” She started to say she didn’t have one, but that was a lie. One memory shined brighter than all the rest – the first day they’d done their broomstick waterskiing routine perfectly. They’d been so excited, Pippa had flung her arms around Hecate and spun them around until they collapsed onto the grass, laughing and hugging. Pippa had even planted a loud, sloppy kiss on her cheek. “The first time we made it through the routine.”

“That’s mine, too.” Pippa pressed tighter against her before settling back. “At least, it used to be.” She felt Hecate stiffen so she added quickly, “Now I think my favorite memory of us hasn’t happened yet.” Hecate loosened, her posture relaxing into the curve of the seat.

They rode the rest of the way in companionable silence, simply enjoying the scenery and the company. As they finally approached Pentangle’s, Hecate could hear the roar of the party blaring from the roof. Her lips pressed together in something she hoped would pass for a smile – or at least something Pippa would pretend was a smile. The driver hopped down from the carriage with practiced grace, hurrying over to assist Hecate and Pippa as they climbed down more cautiously.

Pippa grimaced as she landed on the frozen ground.

“Ankle?” Hecate leaned down to fuss, but Pippa shooed her away.

“It just twinged a bit - wasn’t careful.” She handed Hecate some carrots from her pocket. “Go thank the fellows who did all the work tonight while I settle up, would you?”

Hecate took the carrots and moved around to greet the horses. The first one she came to was a beautiful chestnut with the name ‘Hammurabi’ stamped into his leather horse collar. “Thank you, Hammurabi, for conveying us to our destination.” She held a carrot in her open palm, rubbing the horse’s velvety nose as he nibbled the vegetable and lipped at her hand. “I’m a bit of a fan of Codes as well, you know. Too big, some would say.”

Once he’d finished the carrot, she moved over to the other horse, another chestnut, this one with a white blaze down his forehead. “There’s a handsome boy,” she said, holding out another carrot. Hecate checked the name. “Oh! I beg your pardon, Lady Evangeline! Aren’t I a silly witch?” She rubbed the blaze on Evangeline’s forehead, talking softly to her, and then again to Hammurabi when the big steed nudged her with his nose.

She looked up to find Pippa watching her intently, a small smile on her lips and something unreadable in her eyes. She gave the horses one last rub and joined Pippa on the walkway; by unspoken agreement they watched the carriage until it disappeared around the bend. As soon as it was out of sight, Pippa transferred their belongings to her quarters.

“Shall we head to our party, darling?” Pippa asked, holding out an elbow. “I’ll transfer us right up.”

Hecate would have loved to stay right where she was – or to have stayed in the carriage for that matter, but she squared her shoulders and nodded her head. Pippa snapped her fingers, and they disappeared.

Bracing herself for the noise, Hecate was surprised when they appeared in the blissful quiet of Pippa’s living room. “I don’t…”

“This is our New Year’s Eve, Hiccup. I wouldn’t subject you to the Bacchanalia that’s going on up there.” She snapped her fingers and waved her hands. A mini-buffet table appeared next to the sofa, filled with crudités of all sorts as well as a selection of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages. The chessboard sat ready as did a handful of other games and a movie or two. “I’ll have to make an appearance, and I’d love for you to join me, but I intend for us to celebrate down here. No one up there will even know I’m not there.”

“Y-You did this for me?” Hecate breathed, looking around in amazement.

“I did this for us, Hiccup. It’s a new year and a new start. I wanted it to be something we would both enjoy. Now…” she pointed to the chessboard and arched one eyebrow. “It’s my last opportunity this year to try and even up the score. Let’s play.”

#ww2018winterfluffevent #hicsqueak #hecate hardbroom #pippa pentangle

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uno-san · 5 years

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Stardew Valley Wishlist

I'm obsessed with the game but there are a few things I wish were present in it!

1. Make proposals more exciting and unique! Maybe you have to go on a quest to make your proposal perfect with the help of someone your s/o is close to. Or perhaps go into an emotional cutscene after you offer the mermaid pendant and your s/o shows disbelief or something and you guys talk. I would just like something a little more in depth then "I accept!"

2. MORE WEDDING CONTENT!!! I want the wedding to feel more special. Give us a chance to dress up our characters for their special day, have the lucky couple exchange vows, have a reception where everybody is just dancing and celebrating where you can walk around to talk to the villagers on your wedding day.

3. Okay this part isn't necessary but it would be cool: Choices on what your wedding looks like! Just have your s/o ask you questions on wedding choices. Maybe just what sort of flowers you want. Just a little detail that makes your wedding yours.

4. I'm sorry these are so centered on the bachelors/bachelorettes, I just love them 😭

5. Pleeaaase let players have the option to hurt each other in multiplayer with weapons! I beg of you, my friend stopped walking into my cherry bombs (Okay, maybe this is just 90% something the game doesn't need, lol)

6. Spirit's Eve! I love anything based on Halloween, but I feel that Spirit's Eve has wasted potential. I want there to be something that pulls me into joining again! Perhaps have the maze more interactive by picking someone you have enough hearts with to go through, making each year through the maze different because you can choose someone else. I honestly can't say what could be added for Spirit's Eve. I just want something more out of a cool holiday.

Stardew Valley is 1000% worth its price and so much more! I love the game the way it is. This list is just a few things that would be cool!

If you wanna add/comment on this post, please do! I'm excited to hear what you guys have!

#stardew valley #sdv #chucklefish #concernedape #sdv farmer #stardew farmer

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orbemnews · 3 years

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China Wants to Boost Births. But It’s Wary of Losing Control. When Fan Jianhua had her third daughter last April, she was afraid that she would be fined for violating China’s birth limits. Ms. Fan was already heavily in debt paying for treatment for her 6-year-old, who has leukemia. To her relief, when she registered her new baby with the police, she didn’t have to pay the $7,500 fine. “I was really happy and could finally relax,” said Ms. Fan, 34, a stay-at-home mother in the central city of Danjiangkou, in Hubei Province. Slowly, in fits and starts, China’s ruling Communist Party is loosening its long-held restrictions over childbirth and women’s bodies. Some local governments have tacitly allowed couples to have more than two children. Beijing has said civil servants will no longer be fired for such infringements. Party leaders have pledged to make population policies more inclusive, a signal that some have taken to mean the rules will be eased further. A growing number of voices in China, including lawmakers, scholars and officials, have urged the government to abolish birth restrictions. The party needs to take more aggressive action if it wants to reverse a precipitous decline in birthrates. A once-a-decade population census, released on Tuesday, showed that the number of births last year fell to the lowest since the Mao era. Low fertility translates to fewer workers and weaker demand, which could stunt growth in the world’s second-largest economy. But the party is wary of giving up control and has resisted scrapping birth restrictions wholesale. Instead, Beijing has been taking a piecemeal approach by slowly dismantling the once-powerful family-planning bureaucracy and carving out exemptions. In many places, police officers, employers and city officials are deciding how strictly, or loosely, to enforce the rules. That can mean more freedom for some, like Ms. Fan, to have more children. But it also creates uncertainty about the risks, adding to a reluctance about having more children. The strategy could also founder amid broad cultural changes. Anxiety over the rising cost of education, housing and health care is now deeply ingrained in society. Many Chinese simply prefer smaller families, and the government’s efforts to boost the birthrate, including introducing a two-child policy in 2016, have largely fizzled. “If the restrictions on family planning are not lifted, and they are encouraging births at the same time, this is self-contradictory,” said Huang Wenzheng, a demography expert with the Center for China and Globalization, a Beijing-based research center. He said that removing all birth limits would convey an important message. “I think such a step has to be taken.” Since it imposed the one-child policy in 1980, Beijing has maintained among the world’s harshest restrictions on procreation. That gave the national family-planning commission a powerful hold over the most intimate aspects of people’s lives, exacting fines from couples and urging — sometimes forcing — women to have abortions or be sterilized. When Chen Huayun, 33, was little, officials in her hometown in the eastern province of Jiangxi checked the laundry lines of houses for baby clothes, she said. Ms. Chen’s parents, who were civil servants, hid her or sent her to stay with her grandparents during the school holidays because she was their second child. “This was considered an illicit birth, and it was never spoken publicly of, so they were not fined,” she said. “It was only when they retired that their colleagues knew that I existed.” As it became clear that China’s society was rapidly aging, official murmurs about a reconsideration of the one-child policy surfaced but were quickly dismissed. It took years before the government moved to allow all couples to have two children. Now, the population is aging more rapidly than those of many developed countries, including the United States, and some argue that the government cannot afford to keep any restrictions on procreation. “We have to take advantage of the fact that a certain number of residents now are willing to give birth but aren’t allowed to,” China’s central bank said in a working paper it published on April 14. “If we wait to lift it when no one wants to give birth, it will be useless.” People of working age would make up 60 percent of China’s population in 2050, it predicted, down from three-quarters in 2010, a decline that would hurt the country’s productivity. Today in Business Updated May 11, 2021, 1:13 p.m. ET Beijing has sought to show that it is listening. “The total fertility rate has fallen below the warning line, and population development has entered a critical transition period,” wrote Li Jiheng, the civil affairs minister, in December. He said the government would make child-care and education more affordable. And in January, the party-controlled national legislature urged local governments to stop imposing “excessively severe penalties” for the violation of birth limits. Beijing’s reluctance to abandon birth restrictions stems in part from the view that not all Chinese people can be trusted to know how many children they should have. “We found in some impoverished areas in the west that people are still obsessed with having more children,” Yuan Xin, vice president of the state-backed China Population Association, told the official China Daily newspaper. “So a more relaxed family-planning policy may mean more children for them and make it more difficult for them to escape poverty.” In China’s far western region of Xinjiang, the authorities have more harshly enforced family-planning rules in what Beijing has depicted as a fight against religious extremism. The campaign has led in recent years to a rise in sterilizations and contraceptive procedures — forcibly imposed in some cases — in the region’s Muslim-dominated areas. China’s family-planning policy has long given local officials a powerful weapon of control — one that may be hard, or costly, to wrest back. Before they were unwound, family-planning agencies hired around eight million people, down to the village level, who corralled women to be fitted with intrauterine devices or coerced them into abortions. The officials also collected large fines from couples who broke the rules. One senior researcher at the Central Party School estimated in 2015 that the fees amounted to between $3 billion and $5 billion annually. In recent years, the government has been reassigning family-planning employees to roles including in population research and tackling Covid-19. But local governments retain the power to enforce birth limits as they see fit, which has led to inconsistencies. The central government said in May last year that civil servants did not have to lose their jobs for violating birth limits, yet months later, a village committee in the eastern city of Hangzhou fired a woman after she had a third child — prompting a public outcry. Ultimately, the fate of China’s family-planning policies may change little. A generation of highly educated women are putting off marriage and childbirth for other reasons, including a rejection of traditional attitudes that dictate women should bear most of the responsibility of raising children and doing housework. Liu Qing, a 38-year-old editor of children’s books in Beijing, said getting married and having children were never in her future because they would come at too great a personal cost. “All the things that you want — your ideals and your ambitions — have to be sacrificed,” Ms. Liu said. Ms. Liu said Chinese society imposed a motherhood penalty on women, pointing to the discrimination that mothers often faced in hiring. “I’m furious about this environment,” she said. “I’m not the kind of person who would accept this reality and compromise. I just won’t.” For other Chinese, having fewer children is a matter of necessity when holes in the country’s social safety net mean that a major illness can lead to financial ruin. Ms. Fan, the woman in Hubei who was spared a fine, said that she and her husband, a laborer, were getting increasingly desperate. Public health insurance had covered half the cost of her daughter’s treatment for leukemia, but they were on the hook for $76,000. She had a third child only because she heard that a sibling’s cord blood could help in the treatment of leukemia. But she later learned that such treatment would cost more than $100,000. “I don’t dare think about the future,” Ms. Fan said. She added that if her daughter’s condition deteriorated or they went broke, they would have to give up treatment. “We can only leave it up to her fate,” she said. Research was contributed by Claire Fu, Liu Yi, Albee Zhang and Elsie Chen. Source link Orbem News #births #boost #China #Control #Losing #Wary

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masterstrange-closed · 4 years

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

While Donna and Victor exist in comics, and April in the animated film --- the majority of these characters are based off of my own head canons with the limited canon there is for them and are portrayed selectively over at @maskedheroics.

𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄

Occupation: Student

Hometown: Manhattan, New York

Birthdate: December 4th, 1977

Status: Deceased (Drowning)

Donna was Stephen’s best friend; they were always so close since the day she was born. So close in age, they felt more like twins; having a strong sibling connection. They held very few secrets from one another; and were never afraid to call the other one out when they needed it or be there when they needed a shoulder to lean on. They were the weird ones together in Nebraska. Popular, but strange to the others all the same. Close in age, the two often could be found running around the fields or swimming out to the little island on the lake that neighbored their property along with their other friends.

Donna was a year younger, she had her mother’s energy and her father’s wit. Often going toe to toe with Stephen intellectually. Before settling on medicine, Stephen had debated pursuing music as a career. This changed one day when the siblings were playing in the fields and Donna hurt herself badly; bleeding and a broken bone. Stephen remained calm and logical, taking care of her until their parents came home to take over. It was then she told him that he’d make a good doctor, “maybe even a better one than dad”.

They bonded over Sci-fi; Donna wanting to go into Astro Sciences introduced Stephen to Star Wars, Star Trek, etc. Preferring the former the most. Her goal was to become an astrophysicist; she spent hours upon hours stargazing. Even saving her money to buy herself a decent telescope.

They had plans to go back to New York together, after they both finished school. Stephen went first and Donna was suppose to meet him there when she graduated high school. New York had really been their stomping ground for years. it was heartbreaking for him when Stephen went to live that dream without her.

He used to tease her constantly about astrology, which she was obsessed with. He’d roll his eyes and launch into a rant every time she attributed something he did to his star chart. to which she’d grin matter of factly and inform him that his actions only further proved her claims. Before he learned that astrology had some legitimacy to it, Stephen still used to keep his eye on the astrological predictions in the paper and magazines, reading them in her honour. Even though he wouldn’t believe them for years to come.

Her loss is something he blames himself for to this day.

𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐖𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄

Occupation: Student

Hometown: Manhattan, New York

Birth Date: April 8th, 1980

Status: Deceased (Brain Tumor)

Four years his junior, April had always been a spirited child. She held a close bond with her sister Donna; whom she had shared a room with the majority of her childhood. April had always wanted to explore places, talk to people. She often slowed them down when out and about as she wanted to do everything. She was a happy child, a loving child. Her instrument was the ukulele, which never failed to amuse their parents in the sea of ‘classical instruments’; she could be found plucking those few strings as happy as can be.

Then her migraines started. It was her father who insisted she eventually go for the tests that showed that what she actually had was a tumor growing. April spent a lot of time in doctor’s offices from then on. Instead leading to a lot of treatments to stunt its growth and shrink it. These solutions often were temporary. When she wasn’t in hospital, April knew what they were saying behind closed doors. They were talking about odds and statistics about the possibility of her time being short.

That wasn’t how she wanted to live her life; if April only had borrowed time, than she wanted to use every second of it. While she was hardly a hell raiser, she didn’t drink or smoke, she was a bit of a rebel. Rebelling mostly against time and her family that wanted her to stay home. She volunteered, considered herself an activist, and while she didn’t attend college formally - she did take classes in social studies to further her knowledge in the causes she cared about. She was also the first in the family to know about her brother’s sexuality — a closely guarded secret as she herself was also partially closeted to her family.

One cause was her family; wanting them to be okay if she wasn’t there. Especially after her mother passed away from similar issues. As Stephen took her on as his own medical project, April met him in middle and tried to do the same as a personal project. Trying to get through to him about his changing personality and drinking — most of her words ignored no matter how loud they were. She knew Stephen had blinders on when it came to her. She was his sister, his patient. April knew as her condition worsened, and her brother’s attempts became more experimental, that it was no longer just about her. It was also the weight of Donna and their mother — what he considered his fault and failure.

The last thing she said to him, after was the fact that none of this was his fault. Trying to spare him from adding her to his personal burdens. As much as Stephen tried, he couldn’t. April was the first and one of the few official professional failures. Prompting him to become more selective in his patients. Refusing anything that was too risky, he had learned from his failure with April.

𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄

Occupation: Student

Hometown: Wilson County, Nebraska

Birthdate: May 9th, 1987

Status: Deceased (Motor Accident) / Undead

Stephen’s youngest brother is a sore spot for him; he was already ten when Victor was born and at first things were fine. Yet as Stephen grew older and more focused on his achievements, along with bitterness at how his father was so much easier on little Victor in his old age; he grew more distant. He began university when Victor was shy of ten years old; after that, their relationship was phone calls, visits and holidays.

Victor only ever knew their Nebraskan life, putting him at odds with his brother on many views as he grew older. Victor also grew to resent Stephen for his distance and hand in the loss of their sister and the fact he pushed their mother when she was sick.

Victor died without them ever finding peace between them. Stephen later would feel shame for not being there for him and helping him more.

Years and years past. Decades even; but the brothers would cross paths once more after his body was reanimated by a Vampire in an attempt to enslave him as their thrall. Victor, however, as able to break free and go on a search for his brother — finding him and being taken into the sanctum for safe keeping. Victor was panicked and so confused; lost in time and adjusting to his new species status. The tension of old wounds between he brothers festering to the surface once more.

However, instead of fighting — Stephen and Victor were able to eventually set their differences aside. Working together to help him adjust and put to rest the ghosts that haunted them both. Victor moved out of the sanctum eventually — but remained in Greenwich Village near his brother who, using the remaining medical pull he has, keeps him well fed on blood donated to prevent him from needing to hunt.

#𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 / headcanons.#/ do not reblog.#/ personals don't interact.#maskedheroics #maskedheroics / donna strange.#maskedheroics / april strange.#maskedheroics / victor strange.#/ cw drowning.#/ cw death.#/ cw illness.#/ cw tumor.#/ cw motor accident.

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anabeo · 5 years

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BEAST

Short Fiction

I don’t remember what I noticed first: the large herd of sheep about a hundred yards ahead of us or Birdie suddenly leaving my side. Strange, isn’t it, how such a seemingly banal detail can change the course of an afternoon.

What I do remember is the five of us - my boyfriend Paul, Julian, his current conquest Kat and Birdie the dog - leisurely walking along a National Trust endorsed trail through a nondescript forest. It was one of those unusually hot spring Bank Holidays, where every self-respecting Londoner boards a train out of the city to get drunk in some sleepy home county village, as if the smog-free air could counteract the inevitable hangover the following day.

I was absentmindedly kicking a pebble when Paul gripped my arm. He pointed towards the undergrowth right beside us where a pheasant’s colourful head was poking through. The bird stood frozen in shock, pretending he wasn’t there. Nothing to see here. “Remember when ...” Paul began with childlike excitement, reminiscing about a trip to France we took years ago but I wasn’t listening. Distracted, I looked behind us and saw that Julian and Kat had fallen behind. He had put his lanky arm around her, her body half pressed against his slender frame so that she was almost walking sideways. Like her open-toed boots, which I had secretly deemed countryside-inappropriate, this position favoured romance over stability. It was only a matter of time until she stumbled on one of the roots protruding from the path. Julian instinctively bent down to catch her fall and as she came back to her feet, giggling faux-embarrassed but revelling in being saved, he looked up in my direction and flashed me an unabashed grin. I could feel hot blood rising in my cheeks. I tried to rub it away with my hands and forced my attention back to the pheasant who had already disappeared.

Julian, Paul and I used to go on these little getaways a lot. Paul’s parents owned property in the Devonshire countryside. Three Georgian farm houses with ridiculously scenic wisteria running up their walls. We had spent endless summers there, living out the timeless cliché of going from carefree kids to angsty teenagers. It was where Paul and I had first kissed almost ten years ago, the same year Julian had decided not to come along. In the years that followed, Julian got caught up in his burgeoning artist career and the resulting increase in female (and male) attention while Paul devoted his time to becoming a model employee and boyfriend. We started to grow apart, as they say, and only got together when Paul was overcome by an infrequent yet powerful burst of sentimentality.

Paul and I had almost missed the train in the morning. My attempt at seducing him had turned into a very much not stimulating argument about complying with schedules and how this ‘wasn’t the time’. He accused me of being irresponsible and impulsive, all things he used to consider charming. Maybe he could sense that I was trying to cover up the incessant guilt that had taken up permanent residence in the back of my mind since a major lapse in judgement had led me to go home with Julian a couple of weeks ago. I had been trying to convince myself that it didn’t matter. One time didn’t matter. I decided that if Paul didn’t know and I could forget about it, it basically didn’t happen. Now I just had to figure out how to forget.

Julian’s call about three months ago came unexpected. He was restoring sculptures somewhere in New Cross and remembered I lived close by. If I wanted to get a private tour, he wondered. Since I left my full-time office job to ‘write’, I had been spending most days watching re-runs of Friends, reciting my favourite lines to Birdie for added comedic effect. Needless to say, I welcomed any distraction. Looking at some art was bound to re-ignite my creativity, I had assured myself.

Julian was working on one of a dozen or so adult-sized statues when Birdie and I stepped into the sculpture workshop. He looked up at me and smiled, his face a divine concoction of Basquiat and Michelangelo’s David. He hardly stood out in the sea of white marble males.

Over coffee he told me elaborated stories about the eccentric customers he had to deal with, while Birdie rested her head on his dusty lap. Our meeting turned into a weekly ritual which quickly became the highlight of my week. I drank up his juvenile energy and uncompromising idealism. I rode the wave of his excitement out of my own dull routine.

A couple of months into our still innocuous get-togethers, Paul suggested one evening we should plan a trip with Julian, ‘like the good old times’. I nearly chocked on my microwave raviolis. ‘God, I haven’t seen that crazy guy in ages’ he exclaimed leaning back theatrically in his chair ‘I wonder what he’s up to!’ ‘Uh-huh’ I nodded vaguely as if trying to remember when I had last seen Julian ‘Yeah. Me too.’ I was briefly overcome by the ugly relieve of not having been found out, but the looming reunion didn’t make me give up on my meetings with Julian. If anything, it reassured me that I didn’t tell Paul because I felt ashamed about having a good time while he was at work making the money that paid our rent. Other than that, I was just meeting a mutual friend. There was nothing wrong with enjoying another person’s company, I reasoned, unaware that I wouldn’t be able to hold onto this flimsy lie for much longer.

I spent the bus ride to the train station coming up with highly unlikely excuses to explain the questionable familiarity between Julian and I, Paul was inevitably about to witness. ’Oh yes, we ran into each other at the Brexit march! How could I have forgotten, silly me!’ but I needn’t have worried. Julian wasn’t alone. Kat, arrestingly beautiful yet not without a certain whiff of intellectuality, stood beside him on the platform clasping his hand. I knew then that he would have better things to do than talk to Paul about a series of platonic lunch dates and an ordinary one-night-stand.

As we continued along shady forest paths and sleepy village lanes, I could hear Kat and Julian enthusiastically discussing her laudable involvement in a feminist charity, every now and then taking a break to kiss. Their sickening display of affection didn’t allow me to join their conversation but the thought of talking to the victim of my transgression made me feel equally nauseous. With no one other than Birdie to take my mind off my current situation, I was at the mercy of my own thoughts.

By the time we reached the field, my inner monologue had turned into a thick cloud of obsession. All I could think of were Julian’s delicate fingers violently gripping my hair, Julian’s hot breath brushing my ear, Julian’s teeth sinking into my skin.

It was as if I couldn’t escape the dimly lit pub where I had run into him. Or maybe I had known he was going to be there. Maybe I had been hoping he would gently stroke the side of my hand as he whispered into my ear. But his words where now echoing in my head like a contemptuous Greek chorus: “Let’s get out of here…Let’s get out of here…Let’s…”.

I hadn’t resisted when he interlaced his fingers with mine and let me out the door. I hadn’t objected when he pushed me against his kitchen wall and impatiently unbuttoned my shirt. I could have blamed the wine that had made my head hazy but when I unbuckled his belt, I knew what I was doing, and I didn’t care. The electrifying sensation I had felt when he ran his tongue across the inside of my thigh, was now reverberating through every inch of my body in a punishing loop. I desperately tried to redirect my mind to the present, but the unwanted daydream was impairing my perception of the surroundings.

When I finally noticed Birdie wasn’t by my side anymore, chaos had already erupted. I could hear Paul shouting: “Birdie! Stop! Come here! Fuck!” and running towards her faster than I had ever seen him move before. Birdie had singled out one of the dozen new born lambs that had been grazing peacefully just seconds before. I felt an inappropriate sense of calm because I knew my dry-food-fed, belly-rub-loving dog who was scared of balloons. She would come back any moment. But Birdie was caught in a trance. With alarming precision, she started mounting the lamb, digging her teeth into its fluffy coat. The lamb baa-ed in agony as it fought for its life until it managed to wrangle free. But its fragile legs still weren’t ready for the demands of pursuit. As it tried to stumble to safety, Birdie grabbed hold of its front leg and started to shake the tiny body until it tangled limply from the predator’s fangs. Then, just as quickly as her instinct had overcome her, it left her body like an exorcised demon. Suddenly she dropped the lamb and stood around baffled, unsure of what to do next. Centuries of targeted breeding had taken away her ability to kill.

Only now did she run back to me, hoping her master would provide her with direction. Her familiar eyes looked at me, desperate for approval. She could sense something was wrong, but she wasn’t equipped to figure out what. Didn’t she do what she was supposed to? “It’s ok” I told her, gently stroking her soft ears as small drops of blood dripped from her lip “It’s not your fault, good girl”. With trembling hands, I took Birdie’s lead from around my neck, attached it to her collar and started walking towards the rest of the group who had formed a circle around the victim.

When I finally reached the lamb, I wasn’t quite sure what I was looking at. Two red holes oozed a thick, maroon liquid from its neck. The blood was seeping into the white, coarse coat turning it a red-hot pink. Its front leg was almost completely detached, bone exposed, dangling on a thin piece of skin like a stuffed animal after a fight between siblings. Its tongue had pushed out between its tiny teeth fighting desperately for air. Paul was kneeling next to it and awkwardly petted the fine gashes on its back. “It’s still alive” he whispered to no one in particular. I stood there frozen watching the other sheep who had already gone back to their normal lives. Somewhere admits this unanimous herd was the lamb’s mother, oblivious to the fact that her child lay dying right in front of us. I couldn’t help but envy her inability to form long lasting memories. Kat had positioned herself in a safe distance, eyeing Birdie as if she had just devoured a baby. She was hyperventilating. Every now and then she cried out hysterically: “How could she do that? Oh God, how could she do that?” I could feel Julian move towards me and take Birdie’s lead gently from my hand. “I’ve got her, sit down, you look like death.” There it was again, the familiar feeling of his skin against mine. I realised our hands were still touching. I could sense Paul looking up at us but I as much as I didn’t want to let go off Julian’s hand, I couldn’t return Paul’s stare. Instead I focused on the lamb. Its visible pain made my stomach tie up in knots. I had done this. It was hurting because of me. I had to make it better. “We need to kill it” I finally heard myself say.

“What are you talking about?!” Paul’s look turned from confusion into resentment. “We can’t just kill it! We need to call a vet! We can’t just go around killing lambs!” I felt angry at Paul for pretending this wasn’t happening. As if we could save it by simply holding onto some fictitious moral high ground. With sudden resolve, I pushed him out of the way and knelled beside the lamb. My heart was beating so fast that was secretly thankful for the opportunity to sit down. I took out a paring knife I had brought to cut the brie for a picnic that was now unlikely to happen. With trembling hands, I picked up the lamb’s head. Its breath had become audible laboured and its eyes were almost shut close. It was smaller and lighter than I had anticipated and made no effort to resist my hold. Its apparent willingness to participate in its own euthanasia caused an empty feeling to rise in my chest. I wanted it to keep fighting to give me a reason to stop what I was about to do.

I gripped the knife has hard as my clammy hands would allow.

When I ran the blade across its throat, it didn’t so much as twitch. Its tiny body simply relaxed as it let out its final breath. I let go and looked down at my hands, covered in blood. Hot tears started running down my cheek. I tried to suppress the loud sobs that were escaping my mouth. Instinctively I waited for Paul to put his arm around me, but I couldn’t feel his body next to mine. I looked up to see Julian softly stroking Kat’s back who had buried her face in his chest, unwilling to witness the bloody crime I had just committed. He stared blankly at the lamb with a mix of curiosity and shock. Birdie was sitting next to him panting, savouring the smell of fresh blood. When I finally caught Paul’s eye, his face was twisted into a grimace of utter disgust. He slowly shook his head in disbelieve, horrified by the stranger suddenly in front of him. Through clenched teeth he muttered: “I can’t believe you just did that.”

Paul didn’t say anything else for the rest of the day. Not when we hurriedly buried the lamb under some shrubs, not when we walked back to the train station. In fact, he never really spoke to me again. But I didn’t know that yet.

When we got on the train, we dispersed like repelling atoms. Birdie stretched out underneath the table of the four-seater I had chosen to collapse on and fell sleep instantly. Paul walked decidedly past us and sat down at the other end of the carriage, facing away. Eddie Vedder was shouting from his headphones, as if he wanted to make sure none of his senses would have to engage with me. I could see Kat and Julian diagonally in front of me. Kat rested her head on Julian’s shoulder, her eyes closed. Although she was probably counting down the minutes until this day was finally over, her expression was peaceful. Her sun-kissed cheeks evoked memories of serene summer holidays past. I noticed how her breath had synced with Julian’s, their chests rising and falling in unison. The stillness that permeated the almost empty carriage, was only interrupted by the reassuring humming sound of the wheels against the tracks. As the train rolled forward through the dusky countryside, I looked silently out the window, my mind finally blank.

#short story #short fiction

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