Tumgik
#put them on my gravestone
autumnhobbit · 1 year
Text
It is an odd and humbling experience to read the names on gravestones and the birth & death dates
31 notes · View notes
ezraphobicsoup · 10 months
Text
i love getting in to Situations that end up leading to me being in a warriorcats roleplay whatsapp group chat vine edit
4 notes · View notes
once-delight · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
Today in oddly specific tumblr ads:
This particular horse race betting boardgame (??) which costs 45 USD 💀
So the algo knows I like games, and horses (kinda) which turned into that I would be tempted by a v expensive game about HORSE RACE BETTING
Never change, tumblr.
1 note · View note
dcxdpdabbles · 8 months
Text
DC x DP: The Real Blood Son
It's a year after Damian came to live with them that he decides it is an excellent time to bombard Bruce with his news.
"I had a blood brother." He says to Tim after the other commented how important blood meant to Bruce-ie, not enough to make him get rid of his other sons. "He was the first from the artificial womb mother made with Father's DNA; however, he was disposed of once his heart condition became known. I highly doubt you will last even twice as long Drake-"
"What"
Bruce didn't know that he could make his voice that cold. That dead. What in the world does he mean disposed.
Damian goes still. The kind of still where he isn't sure if he just earned a punishment and is trying not to react to the fear. "My elder brother. Did mother not inform you?"
"Damian," Bruce struggles to level his tone at Dick's hard stare. "She hadn't even informed me of you. Please, can you explain more about your brother."
The youngest nods. "He had no name, but he was my biological brother. He was forced to grow to age of three before they realized he was defective. Grandfather had him sacrificed to the pit."
Jason growls "what do you mean?"
Damian looks confused- as confused as he can with his league training kicking in. "The Lazarus pit is made from the bodies of young virgins. No older then ten. They are sacrificed in exchange for the Infinite Realms' power to sink into the water. The children are not aware of what is happening to them until the very end. They do not suffer."
Bruce feels sick.
They talk a bit more, on how certain followers throughout history were more then happy to offer the great Ra's their own children to renew the pit. How Damain had watched three children when he was seven be sacrifice- it happened every five years- and how the children were given the best week of their lives.
They purposely given the most joy they could feel before the blades to make the Pit as pure as possible. He talked a lot about watching the youngest- five years- be laughing and splashing in the Lazarus water before his mother cut him down, his screams drowning in the green liquid.
"They say the Pit absorbs the last emotion of the sacrifice. Grandfather hopes the children realize the importance and honor they have to be ended for a glorious cause, but occasionally a few are disloyal. When Todd had taken a dip, the previous Renew, had a brilliant girl who figured out what was happening and attempted to escape. She failed, of course, and her arm was amputated in a mission, but she died angry. That's why Todd had such strong madness compared to-!"
"SHUT UP!" Jason roars suddenly, eyes glowing green, and for a brief moment, Bruce swears he hears an undertone of a young girl in his scream "SHUT UP! YOU DONT KNOW ANYTHING! YOUR OWN BROTHER IS IN THERE"
Damain scowls "it's a honor. My brother's body was defective. But he at least had aidded in a glorious ritual."
Bruce can't help it; he leans over the BatCave Railing and hurls his dinner. Damian finally realizes that something is wrong.
They host a funeral for his three-year-old son, who died without a name, and place his gravestone next to his parents. They explain to Damian why the Renewal ritual is horrific but Bruce feels it take years before his son can see that.
Jason, went out into Crime Alley to let off some steam and had been going on a rampage against the underbelly of Gotham. He can't find it I'm himself to stop him.
Bruce asks Constantine to come over and do a small ritual, to hopefully unbound his child and let his son soul move on. Constantine warns that with the kid's name it may not work and that they could only free souls they share blood to but the English man tries anyway.
They send his son their prayers, and hopes. And they try to put him to rest.
Across the Infinite Releams to three dimensions to the right of the Wayne's soul resting ritual, The Fenton's adoptived son, Danny Fenton jolts in his English Class.
The strange stabbing scar above his heart- which is why he never takes off his shirt- burns then cools as if someone had tried to place the temperature-changing ointment. He rubs his best, confused.
What was that?
He'll have to check with FrostBite. Maybe his heart condition is acting up again. It happens every five years even though no doctors his parents have taken him to could figure out what it was.
Until Frostbite. The yeti claimed it had something to do with dark arts, but he's unsure what type.
Frostbite is still doing more testing.
"I wish you had lived, brother. I wish I knew you name"
The wind whispers, and Danny feels a flash of deep longing and grief before it's gone. Yeah, he needs to talk to Frostbite.
3K notes · View notes
dmwrites · 4 months
Text
One day, Joe Hills set out with a shovel in his hands. He slung it over one shoulder, whistling as he walked.
“Hey Joe, whatcha got there?” TangoTek asked, carrying blocks of ice.
“Oh, just a shovel.” Joe replied. “But it’s ice to see you, TangoTek.”
TangoTek laughed. Joe laughed. They both walked down the path in opposite directions.
It was a good day for a walk. The birds were singing and the sun was shining. But birds were not the only things singing! Joe walked over a hill to find BdoubleO singing loud and clear as he cut down a tree.
“Sir Joe! How wonderful to see you!” BdoubleO said, wiping away sweat on his face.
“Howdy, BdoubleO, why are you chopping down a tree?” Joe asked. He moved his shovel to his other shoulder so it would not hurt him.
“Why, I am using the wood to build a beautiful house!” BdoubleO said. He had big, twinkling eyes and an even bigger smile. “Why do you have a shovel, Joe?”
“I have a hole I need to dig.” Joe said. “And I must not be late for it. Goodbye!”
“Goodbye Joe!” BdoubleO said, waving.
The day was getting warm, and Joe Hills stopped by a river to get a drink of water. He saw his friend Cubfan at the river too!
“Howdy, Cubfan!” Joe called, waving.
“Hey Joe, whats up?” Cubfan asked. He was holding a raw cod fish and a fist full of glittery red redstone dust.
“I was just taking a break, I’ve been walking for a while today. What are you doing here, Cubfan?” Joe asked.
Cubfan looked all around at the grass and the trees, like he was looking for something in particular. Then he took out five diamonds and gave them to Joe!
“Nothing at all. Got it? If anyone asks, I was drinking from the river, same as you. Alright, man?”
Joe thought the diamonds were a very nice gift, and put them in his pocket. “Thanks, Cubfan! Indeed, I saw nothing!”
Cubfan smiled at Joe- he was always so fun to hang out with. Joe wondered why Cubfan looked like he was sweating.
“So what’s with the shovel, Joe?”
“I have an appointment. Very important stuff.” Joe said. “And I should probably get going before the sun sets! Goodbye, Cubfan! Enjoy your nothing!”
The day was beginning to turn into night. The sky was oranges and reds and pinks. Joe walked a little faster- he didn’t want to be late!
Then he came to a fork in the road, and Joe realized he didn’t know which way to go! He felt sad- was he not going to be able to get where he needed to be on time?
“Hi Joe!” Geminitay said, waving to him. She was walking down one of the paths towards him, carrying a basket full of bright flowers.
“Say, which way is the graveyard?” Joe asked. “I appear to be lost.”
“It’s that way, of course, right through the spooky forest!” Geminitay said, pointing down a dirt path. “But why do you want to go to the graveyard, Joe? It’s so scary there!”
“I have something urgent I must do.” Joe said, shifting the shovel over his shoulder.
Geminitay looked at the shovel, then and Joe, but didn’t ask any questions.
“Well, good luck. Watch out for big scary wolves!”
Joe hurried along the path in the spooky forest. The sun was about to fully set, and he was worried he wouldn’t be able to get to the graveyard in time.
All of a sudden, a huge creature ran into his path. Joe was not scared, though, because it was his friend Rendog!
“Joeth of the Hills, my dude, how the heck are you?” Rendog said.
“I am good, Rendog, but I am afraid I can not stop to chat! I have urgent business to attend to.” Joe said.
“Me as well, good sir, as I saw a rabbit just beyond those bushes and must give chase. Goodbye!” Rendog said, and dove back into the forest.
The moon was beginning to rise as Joe Hills stepped into the cemetery. He creeped along the gravestones, careful not to make a peep. He could hear skeletons rattling in the distance, but he was brave. He stopped at a gravestone with a torch above it, and began to dig. He dug straight down, until his shovel scraped against a coffin. He pried it open, using all his strength.
“Hi Joe!”
“Howdy, Cleo. Did you have a nice nap?”
It was Joe’s best friend, ZombieCleo! She had been sleeping in the grave! Cleo yawned and stretched, bones moving strangely under dead and rotting skin.
“It was wonderful, exactly what I needed! Thanks for digging me up! Let’s get out of here and go get some pumpkin spice lattes!”
“How spooky!” Joe said, and he and Cleo held hands as they went to get a yummy treat together.
——
This is my attempt at a “children’s story”-esque fic, and was supposed to be completed for Halloween. Better late then never lolll
448 notes · View notes
fllnordr · 5 months
Text
So… I have a lot to say about this post I saw on my feed today. I took screenshots and blocked out the username for the sake of the OP. I didn’t want this to be a callout post for one specific user, and do not wish them any hate or harm. I DO have a whole heap to say about this and the treatment Charles gets from the rdr fandom as a whole, not only the OP in the screenshot.
Tumblr media
I have a lot of problems with this post, and I have been wanting to talk about this issue and pattern I’ve noticed in the rdr community. Again, I do not mean to send any hate in OP’s direction or suggest that OP is racist in any sense. With that being said…
It’s an inherently racial stereotype to assume that Charles, a black and native man, is illiterate with such a lack of evidence or real reasoning behind it. He was isolated for most of his life after the age of thirteen, and he’s been with a gang for only six months. He is very private, and he is shy. He doesn’t talk much at all, much less about reading. I have never seen this sort of assumption made about any other character, claiming they’re illiterate, because they’re never seen reading at camp.
This is the most ridiculous take I have ever seen. Charles is the one who buried Arthur with his own two hands and created his gravestone. He was the only person who knew where Arthur was buried, hence being the sole creator of Arthur’s final resting place. Charles’ handwriting is the one we see on the gravestone. Charles is the one who wrote the inscription on the cross. He is not illiterate.
I think a problem I have with a lot of Charles fans is that they see him as a blank slate. They see Charles, a physically attractive man, who is quiet and take him for that alone. He is often seen as a blank canvas to project their own ideas onto and sort of mold to their own use and convince. And often times, whether knowingly or not, Charles is consistently watered down to racial stereotypes. Race is obviously a part of who he is, and it affects a lot of his actions, as it does with everyone, but that is not all who he is.
Charles is clinging to the fringes of what little of his culture that he does have. His mother was taken from him as a boy, and he holds onto what little he does have and that absence of his mother, and both of his cultures (because people also tend to ignore the fact that he is also black) is a huge part of who he is. But a lot of folks would rather see his shyness as blankness. He is not levelheaded, but he is moral. He is not always morally correct though. It’s frustrating to constantly see who he is being ignored for the sake of the false persona that’s been created for him.
I think a lot of folks need to listen to the one dialogue of Charles opening up at the campfire. Yes it is a relatable speech for a lot of reasons, but it is also about his race, how he experiences the world, and how he feels as though he has no place because of the loss of his mother, the lack of knowing who he is, his culture, and a whole host of other things. He is one of the best written characters in the game, and to brush that aside to make him into this ‘softhearted super caring ideal s/o’ is so frustrating. This is the same man who was ready to kill Uncle if the need arose. He is moral, but they are morals of his own, and he is not always correct. He is also flawed, just like everyone else. He is not a saint. He is a flawed and conflicted man.
To disregard Charles for who he is, is such a great disservice to the character and to all the work put into him, his story, and other people who have and continue to share the same experiences as he does.
467 notes · View notes
nightingaelic · 3 months
Text
Things that are Now Fallout Canon
(according to the Special LIVE Report from Galaxy News that preceded the Fallout TV series' teaser trailer release on December 2, 2023)
Vault 33, the focus vault of the Fallout television series, is located beneath Santa Monica, California. It's also implied to be very, very expensive to get into.
Bottle and Cappy, the mascots for Nuka-Cola and its theme park, Nuka-World, were about to embark on a seventeen-movie-long series of animated films before the bombs fell.
The sinking of the RMS Titanic happened in Fallout's alternate universe. The news announcer jokes about the world going down like the infamous ship, including the deadly lack of lifeboats.
Camels exist in this universe, too! The news announcer actually fucks this one up, because he says dromedary camels have two humps - dromedary camels have one hump, while Bactrian camels have two. Or maybe we'll get a sound bite from Todd Howard in a few months where he claims the camel breed names are swapped in Fallout, who knows.
Pets were not allowed in the commercially-advertised vaults. The news announcer regrettably informs listeners that they can't bring their cats, dogs, or even fish with them due to logistical concerns and safety hazards, but they are more than welcome to purchase Vault-Tec-branded gravestones and hold pet funerals before they move underground. Hypothetically-speaking, it wouldn't surprise me if people tried to smuggle their animals in, anyway.
Someone stole the Fallout universe's original moon landing flag from the Museum of Technology in Washington, D.C. - another headline report, with no further details. It was in the same exhibit as the Virgo II lunar lander, which stayed put for at least 200 years.
Vault Boy was named "World's Sexiest Man" in 2077 (when the report is being aired) - no word about which publication or organization bestowed this title upon an animated mascot.
Vault-Tec trademarked the thumbs-up emoji in the Fallout universe - which is very much in character for the company, but something about there being emojis in the world at all hit me wrong.
Vault-Tec instituted a "breeder search program" alongside vault placement purchases, and encouraged polyamory to get people to procreate (and buy more vault spots). I'll admit that this one seems plausible but shaky, because by this point in the report the news announcer is losing his mind while stalling for the vault door to open, and he might just be making shit up.
Nuka-Cola ran its own version of the Pizza Hut "BOOK IT!" reading program, called "ZAP IT!" Kids were required to read over 10,000 books to win rewards. If we use picture books for the math, and allow for five minutes to read each book, that's about 833 hours (34 straight days) of reading to get some soda.
Moby-Dick by Herman Melville and the ancient Greek myth of Daedalus and Icarus both exist in the Fallout universe.
Resulting Thoughts
"The ghoul" in the show is possibly named Howard - unsure if that's a first or last name. In the teaser trailer, Walton Goggins (who plays the ghoul) is shown dressed like a Hollywood cowboy on the day of the Great War, riding a horse to try to escape the nuclear bombs that hit Los Angeles with an unidentified child. Meanwhile, the Galaxy News headlines report that a box office hit called "The Man From Deadhorse" is getting a sequel, which is currently filming at California Crest Studios, and the news announcer says the film is "Howard-led." Whether the ghoul is the lead actor, we don't know, but it seems like a solid enough hint at his origins.
I'm glad that the show is going to delve more into the idea of the haves and have-nots, what with vault entrance being both selective and expensive. The most recent games in the series don't talk about this enough, in my opinion.
This isn't specific to the show adaptation, but it's becoming more noticeable to me that the Fallout series is crawling forward in terms of relating to modernity. I'm not sure how to feel about this - for example, I don't really mind if the soundtrack of Fallout 76 features the Beach Boys and other 1960s songs when it used to be strictly limited to 1930s and 40s music. On the other hand, I thought that using a news announcer that sounds more like a modern podcast host than a Transatlantic-accented journalist was an odd choice, and as I said above, I really did not like the idea that pre-war America knows what an emoji is. I'll get over it, but I'm anticipating that there will be some more artistic choices in the adaptation (and future games) that rub me and others the wrong way because they don't fit our definition of what Fallout "is." I'm not saying anything new, people have been arguing about that forever.
Overall, I'm excited. We're probably not getting a new Fallout game until 2030, so I might as well try to enjoy this. I will be keeping my bingo cards handy, though.
Anyway, I transcribed the damn report because I'm very normal. Feel free to use!
Fallout - A Special LIVE Report from Galaxy News
with occasional commentary from yours truly
[An upbeat, strings-led orchestral jingle plays, and black-and-white picture focuses on a spinning, silver globe. The globe is being circled by a vintage toy rocket. The words "GALAXY NEWS" fly in, and are quickly wiped and replaced by script declaring "Vault-Tec Presents..." The picture is circle-wiped and transitions to a high view of a vault entrance, with no visible script or markings to indicate which vault it is. The large, circular vault door is closed, and the access bridge to the door is not connected. A timer counting down from 60 minutes is overlaid in the bottom left corner, just above the Galaxy News globe logo and a signal tower graphic next to the word "LIVE." News headlines scroll along the bottom of the screen, the first of which reads "GALAXY NEWS SIGNS 10-YEAR PARTNERSHIP DEAL WITH VAULT-TEC." The headlines are separated by small lightning bolt graphics. The music continues throughout, and a male news announcer's voice cuts in.]
Good morning! Or, afternoon! Or evening, depending on where in the world you are. If you're just tuning in with us now, you're in for a treat. Welcome to the unveiling of Vault 33, one of the flagship vaults of Vault-Tec's arsenal of vaults.
[The second scrolling headline reads "VAULT-TEC VOTED AMERICAN COMPANY WITH BRIGHTEST FUTURE."]
Galaxy News is here live with an exclusive look at the next generation of apocalypse-proof, purpose-built luxury housing, sponsored by our friends at Vault-Tec. Vault-Tec: Revolutionizing safety for an uncertain future.
[The third scrolling headline reads "ROBCO INTERPLANETARY PROBE PROBES DEEPER INTO SPACE THAN ANY PROBE HAS PROBED BEFORE."]
If you're a regular viewer of our programming, we consider you an astute, engaged citizen, doing your part to stay informed on the latest news impacting this beautiful country of ours, and so it will be no surprise to you that we are on the precipice of a nuclear armageddon. But, fear not, Vault-Tec is building the ultimate shelter-in-place solution for the more doomsday-savvy customer: A veritable ark meticulously designed to weather the geopolitical storm surely headed our way any day now. And for the first time on live broadcast, the fine folks at Vault-Tec will be giving you a tour of their newest product unveiling, from the comfort of your home.
[The announcer takes a break, and the music swells. The vault remains closed, and no activity whatsoever is visible around it. It might as well be a static image. The fourth scrolling headline reads "NUKA-WORLD BREAKS ATTENDANCE RECORD FOR FOURTH STRAIGHT YEAR. GALACTIC ZONE GIVEN CREDIT FOR INCREASED NUMBERS." The initial song ends, and a new strings song with a more staccato rhythm begins. The news announcer returns.]
Welcome, once again, to Vault 33, nestled in the coastal west side of sunny Los Angeles County, and minutes from the yet-to-be-destroyed, bustling downtown promenade. Should nuclear annihilation one day come for this quiet beach-side town, you can take comfort in knowing you are safely buried deep, deep below what numerous trade publications once called "one of the best places to live." Right now, ladies and gentlemen, what you're looking at is peace of mind. Billions and billions of dollars and decades of R&D funneled into the high-grade protection engineering that only Vault-Tec can bring you.
[The fifth scrolling headline reads "WE ASKED OUR VIEWERS TO ANSWER A SIMPLE QUESTION: WHAT IS THE GREATEST NATION ON EARTH AND WHY IS IT AMERICA? HEAR THE RESULTS TONIGHT AT 10PM EST." At this point, the news announcer starts to sound less formal and more excited.]
Aren't we a bunch of lucky ducks! Vault-Tec has tapped us into their closed loop security feed to bring you a sneak peek behind a vault entrance airlock. That large, fortified steel blast door you see there is the only thing standing between you and the rads.
[The sixth scrolling headline reads "UNITED STATES AGAIN ACCUSED OF ATMOSPHERIC COUNTER-ESPIONAGE BY THE REDS."]
Very soon - very soon, I'm told - Arnold? Are we - yeah - and we're very soon, and we're very soon. Very, very soon, I'm told, that gear door will open, and Galaxy News will be on the ground to give you all a walking tour of the facilities! Including the accommodations one might expect in a state-of-the-art, modern residence thanks to a partnership with RobCo Industries and some of your shelf-stable forever favorites like BlamCo and Sugar Bombs! There's nowhere to hide from explosive good taste! Boom!
[The news announcer disappears again, and the strings conclude and are replaced with a meandering clarinet-led number. Several scrolling headlines go by: "U.S. RENEWS DEFENSE CONTRACT WITH WEST TEK, HERALDS VALUE OF POWER ARMOR IN ALL THEATERS OF WAR." "ESPIONAGE THREAT SUBDUED IN DOMESTIC URANIUM MINES." "PRESIDENT DECLARES NUCLEAR STOCKPILE 'SAFE ENOUGH.'" "BULLETIN OF THE ATOMIC SCIENCES SETS DOOMSDAY CLOCK TO HALF A NANOSECOND TO MIDNIGHT." "ATLAS OBSERVATORY CHRISTENS NEW TELESCOPE, RE-COMMITTING TO A NON-VIOLENT PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE." The song ends, a new one begins, and the news announcer returns. The vault still hasn't opened, and he's dropped what was left of his professional tone.]
And we are... stalled out. We're still... having technical difficulties. You know, sometimes things go bad and there's just no way you can plan. It's kind of like what's happening with the world right now, there's no way you could've been born into the world and know how you were going to end - know how the world would end. How will the world end, in fire or in ice? Well, it turns out -
[laughter]
It turns out it's gonna be fire...
[The twelfth scrolling headline reads "CHRISTMAS TOY TRENDS: RETAILERS REPORT SHORTAGE OF POWER ARMOR FIGURINES."]
Arnold! What's that? Okay. Yes.
[sound of paper pages being flipped through]
Okay. Arnold just handed me a fun fact. We're gonna do fun facts, fun facts.
[The thirteenth scrolling headline reads "NUKA-COLA QUANTUM GETS FDA APPROVAL, FOUND TO CONTAIN 'HEALTHY AMOUNT OF RADIATION."]
Fun fact about the construction of these massive vaults: They use concrete. Hm. That hardly counts as a fun fact, Arnold. Now is there an update on when the door... the door's gonna be open? Arnold? I'm sorry, is there an update on the door? Is there an update on the crane? Is it a crane problem, or a door problem? Is it a pr- is it a crane problem, or a door problem? Arnold? Arnold! Arnie!
[sigh]
Okay...
[The news announcer gives up, and a song with a lot of muted trumpet comes in to serenade more scrolling headlines. "NO ONE'S BEATING THIS DEADHORSE. 'THE MAN FROM DEADHORSE' TOPS BOX OFFICE. A SEQUEL IS ALREADY IN THE WORKS AT CALIFORNIA CREST STUDIOS." "ATLAS WEATHER EXPERIMENT BELIEVED TO BE THE CAUSE OF UNEXPECTED SNOW FLURRY IN LOS ANGELES." "DEVELOPING: REDS CONTINUES TO DENY EXISTENCE OF STEALTH SUBMARINES, US INTELLIGENCE SUGGESTS OTHERWISE." Woodwinds replace the trumpet, and the news announcer returns, pivoting to an unrehearsed sales pitch for his sponsor.]
If you have the money, please - please, guys - get a Vault-Tec vault. Get in there! Think of it as a life raft, a bit. Our country is the Titanic, and these vaults are the life rafts - right? - attached to the side of it.
[The seventeenth scrolling headline reads "NUKA-COLA MASCOTS 'BOTTLE AND CAPPY' TO APPEAR IN ANIMATED FILM FROM CALIFORNIA CREST STUDIOS. WILL BE THE FIRST IN A SEVENTEEN PICTURE DEAL BETWEEN THE COMPANIES."]
Now, were there enough life rafts on the Titanic? If you remember - no, no there weren't enough, and so many, many people died, and so, it's a nice allegory actually, because they're not going to die in the freezing ocean, which would be - actually, it's a little faster to die by fire than it is by drowning in the cold, so it is kind of an advantage to be dying now, th- rather than on the Titanic, the RMS Titanic.
[The eighteenth scrolling headline reads "SUPPLY LINES FOR RED FORCES BREAKING DOWN." Sort of like this announcer. He pivots again.]
Now - can you call a survivor of a nuclear holocaust a person, anymore? I don't know. Their brain is going to be cottage cheese, and they will be crawling... crawling on the ground, stuffing sand in their mouth, their blind eyes melted out, like the white of an egg, just dripping and dribbling out of their eye sockets.
[The nineteenth scrolling headline reads "VAULT-TEC ANNOUNCES COMPLETION OF VAULT 33 UNDER SANTA MONICA, CA."]
They raise their face towards their... god... and scream, "Nooooo! Whyyyyyy! What did it all mean?" It turns out it didn't mean much if you didn't get a spot in a Vault-Tec vault."
[The twentieth scrolling headline reads "MILITARY UNITS SENT TO QUELL UNREST IN SEVERAL STATES."]
"Now, let's talk about the luxury interiors of Vault-Tec vaults. We have camel leather. You've heard of cow leather. Probably. Camel leather is a great deal softer, isn't it? It comes from the camel, who keep their water on their backs in a hump. Sometimes two, if they're a dromedary. Now, let's talk about camel leather and why it is more supple, and why it is cooler to the touch, and we can talk about it forever but what you want is luxury, what you need is safety: Where you go is Vault-Tec. That's it.
[I feel like I need to point out that dromedary camels only have one hump, and no camels store water in their humps: It's actually just fat up there that they can live off of while traversing deserts. Regardless, the announcer is gone again. The scrolling headlines remain. "NUKA CORP SPINS OFF ATOMIC RESEARCH ARM INTO SEPARATE CORPORATE ENTITY AFTER SEC APPROV." "SUPER DUPER MART ANNOUNCES RECALL OF BLAMCO MAC & CHEESE FOR TRACE AMOUNTS OF DAIRY." "VAULT-TEC STOCKS SOAR AS US ECONOMY BECOMES FEAR-BASED." "BUREAU OF ALCOHOL, TOBACCO, FIREARMS AND LASERS TAKE DOWN NATIONWIDE WEAPONS SMUGGLING RING." Another woodwind-heavy song starts up, and so does our announcer.]
Um... Arnold?
[throat clearing]
Arnie! Can we- do- do we have a- can we start a clock? Can we - is there, like, anything we can do? I feel like people need something to hold onto, there's a lot of empty air. There's a lot of dead air, here. People need something to hold onto, people are freaking out, and I'm freaking out because I like to have - I like to bring people comfort - uh, in, in this crazy time. There's, there's only a few things you can predict -
[laughter]
In - in the world, and uh, I thought that opening the vault on time would be one of those things.
[The twenty-fifth scrolling headline reads "MILITARY SETS THREAT LEVEL OF POSSIBLE BIOLOGICAL WEAPON ATTACK FROM REDS TO HIGH."]
I was kind of counting on it as a - a thing that would bring some amount of normalcy, some amount of comfort. Something happening the way it's supposed to in a world that feels like it has been turned upside down by evil. But, unfortunately that is not the case. Here we are. Another thing we don't know. Another thing we have to grapple with.
[The twenty-sixth scrolling headline reads "TEDDY FEAR MANUFACTURER SETTLES CLASS ACTION LAWSUIT, DENIES TOY BEAR CAUSES SLEEP PARALYSIS NIGHTMARES IN CHILDREN."]
This particular vault and these technical difficulties that we're having right now have absolutely nothing to do with the product that you will buy when you buy a Vault-Tec vault. Now, Vault-Tec vault living is living the dream, and it's the only way to safety unless you're... the President of the United States, or something like that, and you have a mountain in Colorado to go under and direct the events of the world. Not many of us are that, there's only one of those... uh, and his various and sundry advisors, I'm sure they'll be fine, but you won't! You won't be fine!
[The twenty-seventh scrolling headline reads "WERE TEDDY FEAR BEARS MISUNDERSTOOD? ONE PSYCHOLOGIST THINKS SO."]
If a vault is out of your price range, there are lower-cost alternatives to purchasing a spot with Vault-Tec. They don't sound... good, if you ask me. Anti-radiation pills? Good luck with that. Not sure how anti-radiation pills will hold up against temperatures rivaling the surface of the sun, for example. But maybe that's just me!
[He's gone again. We're 15 minutes into the countdown, and the woodwinds have really started to outdo their own whimsy, at this point. Headlines continue. "TEDDY FEARS SKYROCKET IN POPULARITY AND PRICE DUE TO SCARCITY CAUSED BY RECALL." "VAULT-TEC ANNOUNCES NEWLY AVAILABLE SINGLE VAULT SPACES FOR SALE." "THIS YEAR'S FALLOUT SUIT DESIGN FEATURES ENHANCED PROTECTION, 20% MORE ZIPPERS." The whimsical woodwinds finish up and a bouncy, brassy horn piece takes over. This summons the announcer.]
When you see that vault, it's all gonna be worth it, fellas. It's all gonna be worth it when you see that vault. Now kids, you're probably wondering: Can I bring my pet doggy, or my pet kitty, into the vault? You can't. Unfortunately... it's a hazard in so many different ways. Uh... tch, uh, their hair can get caught in the ventilation system, you'll have endless problems, where do you put their waste? Where do you put... their food? So many, so many problems, so... we have specially-made Vault-Tec gravestones.
[The thirty-first scrolling headline reads "VIRGO II LUNAR LANDER NOW ON DISPLAY AT MUSEUM OF TECHNOLOGY IN WASHINGTON, D.C."]
We have specially-made Vault-Tec pet gravestones for your children to have many funerals for their pets before you go into your Vault-Tec vault. Memorialize your pets now with Vault-Tec mini pet gravestones! Dig a hole in the sand, put the pet in there, and put that gravestone - and it's got a space where you can write the pet's name - right before you go in the vault, no pets in the vault. Not even fish. No, not even fish.
[The thirty-second scrolling headline reads "FLAG FROM VIRGO II LUNAR LANDING STOLEN FROM MUSEUM OF TECHNOLOGY." The news announcer is really getting aggravated.]
What is happening? What is - Arnie! What is - what is happening? Okay - okay! Alright!
[The music and the headlines fill the space again. "NUKA-WORLD TO RAISE TICKET PRICES FOR UPCOMING SEASON, EXPECTING AN 'EXPLOSIVE' YEAR." "GWINNETT ANNOUNCES NEW PALE ALE SO PALE IT'S TRANSPARENT." "HAPPY NATIONAL SOCK HOP DAY!" "VAULT BOY NAMED WORLD'S SEXIEST MAN." The news announcer tries again, attempting to play up the complete inactivity happening onscreen.]
So much is happening here, we've got... the crane, as you can see, it's - it's about to be lowered, and I'm told - and I'm told... the weather. The inclement weather is - keep - I think the weather... there's a pressure cha- it needs to be - yes, of course. The pressure needs to be right to open the vault, or else the differential pressure between underground and overground will cause... a, uh... uh, the furniture to, uh...
[The thirty-seventh scrolling headline reads "VAULT-TEC REGISTERS TRADEMARK ON THE THUMBS UP EMOJI." This one made me physically recoil.]
L- Look... get a Vault-Tec vault. If you can't afford a whole vault for your family, that's fine. Buy time in a timeshare, one of our timeshares. And it's not the kind of timeshare you're going to regret, this is one that's not a scam, because you can look down at your intact body in a Vault-Tec vault and say, "Look at me! I'm whole!"
[The thirty-eighth scrolling headline reads "NUKA-COLA PATRIOTICALLY SALUTES SUCCESS OF NEWEST FLAVOR LAUNCH - NUKA-COLA VICTORY. EXCLUSIVE REDESIGN COMING NEXT YEAR WITH 'A TASTE AS SWEET AS FREEDOM.'"]
Stay whole in a Vault-Tec vault! Keep it together, meaning your corporeal form! Keep it together in a Vault-Tec vault! You'll be skipping around in a workout area, and... check out those barbells! Why not work those biceps while you're down here? What if there's an emergency, and somebody breaches your Vault-Tec vault door? Well, you're gonna want to be in shape to fight off that rageful beast!
[At this point the scrolling headlines loop back to the beginning.]
Now, is it a human? If you kill it, will its soul go to heaven or hell? Don't worry about it! Just get it out, because even its presence in your Vault-Tec vault could kill you and your entire family! These people are irradiated. It's not healthy, right? It's like putting your hand on a radiator. Don't do it.
[Music break. That vault still isn't opening. The song ends, and the news announcer clears his throat.]
We don't... have the exact scoop yet, ladies and gentlemen, so Arnie, why don't we put some music on while we wait for the skinny?
[noticeable pause]
I- I- I- I- don't know what song, put on anything, I'm dying up here.
[The next song opens with energetic trumpets that sound like they're charging through a movie theater snack stand. It's followed by a big band track that seems to re-energize the announcer.]
And, if you're just joining us, we're preparing to head inside the latest and greatest product offering from Vault-Tec. Vault 33, a pristine subterranean society purpose-built for America's best and brightest to wait out the nuclear fallout. There's no telling what will remain once this global conflict reaches its inevitable conclusion: That's why it's important for patriots like you to purchase a guaranteed spot in America's future. It's up to you to keep our golden society going, propagating forth until we have the ranks to repopulate the world outside.
"What if I don't have a partner or family right now?" you may be asking. "Don't give up on love so soon!" I say. Where better to meet eligible partners than in a cherry-picked community of like-minded individuals? If you find you need a bit more assistance, Vault-Tec has breeder search programs to help you find the one, or the two, or the three, four, five! Vault-Tec is a very open society, so go ahead and purchase that single vault space, and that single may become a double before you know it! And what better place to find someone to love, than safe underground?
Please stay tuned as we prepare to bring the crew, and the world at large, inside our Vault-Tec facility.
"But what if I don't have the money for a vault right now?" you may be thinking. You should never let not having the funds today stop you from reaching your dreams. You can always pay tomorrow, into perpetuity. Vault-Tec is reportedly constructing financial packages that allow for customers to continue payments on select economy vaults, in the event of total societal extinction. So don't worry, purchase away! Vault-Tec upholds traditional American values, and they believe no one should be excluded from the pursuit of life, liberty, and debt.
[Music break, wherein the song concludes and switches to something more pensive and staccato.]
A- Alright? Yes? Arnold is telling me - yes? We are moments away! Moments away - from having some kind of movement here. I'll believe that when I see it. Sorry Arnie, but your credibility with me could not be any lower at this point.
Let's talk about the amenities in these concrete miracles. Radiation King will be providing television sets, modern kitchen appliances.
[throat clearing]
The sofas will be... I'm sorry, do we know who makes the sofas? I'm sorry, do we - do we know who makes the sofas? Do we know who makes the sofas? Arnold, do we know who makes the sofas?
[Arnold does not reply. The announcer is miffed.]
What else is new. Yeah.
[Dejection turns to anger immediately.]
If you could please just give me something? If you could please just give me something to update? I'm sitting here with nothing! I'm sitting here... with nothing! This isn't my job! I'm a journalist! I report things, I don't... vamp! Is there even a - is, is there a clue? Is there, do the crane people - have the crane people chimed in? Have the door people chimed in? Is it all one person?
[Arnold presumably says some inaudible form of "I don't know." This does not please the news announcer.]
Well maybe con- maybe connect yourself to them. You should get yourself a radio. Get yourself a radio, Arnold. That's your job, to communicate with me the facts about what's going on, and it's my job to communicate to the people who are watching - we're trying to save their lives - you know, and this isn't advertising for me. This is a product I believe in!
Arnold, what do you do? What skills do you - are you somebody's son? Are you - are you somebody's kid, or something?
[Arnold can finally be heard, somewhat garbled from distance or technology: "My uncle is, uh, is the general manager of Galaxy News, your employer." The news announcer considers this.]
Your uncle is the manager of Galaxy New - mmm. Well, that explains how you got this internship. I'm sorry for everything I said, but... you can understand my frustration, here.
[The music concludes, but the announcer keeps going.]
The, uh, vault foreman is out here, and he is, uh, uh, doing hand signals. Ooh, yes, it's going to be a while, let's play some music for the people, Arnie.
[A new song starts. We're nearly 30 minutes into the countdown before the song switches over and the news announcer starts up again.]
All right folks, we have an update! They've got eyes on the gatekeeper out walking the grounds. It appears he was attempting to retrace his steps after misplacing the key and his wallet - still no word on the key itself, please stand by for more on the wallet, as this story continues to unfold.
Still on standby as we wait for the situation in the vault to resolve, but folks, there is plenty to get the American public up to speed on in the meantime. World news stories! Breaking, breaking news from the international desk. Peace negotiations between America and her adversaries crumbled in Anchorage, Alaska, this past weekend, a city recently liberated from foreign occupation, leading experts to believe nuclear war is indeed on the horizon. One more reason, America, to tune into the presentation Vault-Tec has for us today. Preparation, resilience, and smart spending are the only way our precious republic makes it through that long, dark night.
[This revelation approximates the date of the broadcast, which is happening not long after the Battle of Anchorage. The clash in Alaska officially ended on January 10, 2077: This news bulletin proves that attempted peace negotiations followed, then failed.]
Going the way of the dinosaurs has never felt this fun! If only the dinosaurs had Vault-Tec technology. Now, the dinosaurs died because... a meteor came from space, right? They had nothing to do with it. We have everything to do with our own demise. It's almost like… people are a virus that is destroying the Earth, we're a planet-killing virus. And people do say, "Oh, well, you know, well, the cockroaches... will outlive us and the the aardvarks or whatever will outlive us." Well, they won't. They're going to die too, because this is the real deal, guys. This is the end. So if you're not underground, I don't know what you're doing.
I wonder how we'll evolve. Will we develop a different kind of skin, some kind of leathery, plastic skin to fight off the nuclear fire? Who knows, but the only way to find out is to purchase a Vault-Tec vault, or a space in one of our timeshares.
[Music break again. It's a rather lively waltz.]
For those gathered around their Radiation King TV sets today, thank you for your patience. Rome wasn't built in a day!
[laughter]
Very soon you will witness… one of the greatest modern advances since the Virgo II moon landing - you won't want to miss this, the future of you and your future children depends on it.
[Exasperation sets in.]
Honestly, who wrote this copy?
[Arnold presumably raises his hand.]
You did, Arnold? Well, that's not surprising. It leaves… yes, well, it leaves a lot to be desired. They couldn't hire a professional writer? You look like you're 15 years old.
[Arnold inaudibly corrects him.]
You're 23? Yeah, well, 23-year-olds look like they're 15 now, still too young. What could you know about the - what could you possibly know about the written word, Arnold? Goddamn it. What could you - what do you know about writing and oratory? Nothing, I'll answer y- for you, nothing. The lack of professionalism - myself not included - disgusts me. The lack of professionalism disgusts me, Arnold!
Speaking of nuclear fire, you should see the muffin tray they left out for me. People want a blueberry mu- you want a muffin, okay? A muffin. Not a little squirt of dough, with a little powdered su- give me a muffin, give me a real thing, okay? Give me some snacks! You're going to give me some coffee? Good. I need a snack, to balance it. I'm not the only person in the world who needs a little bit of fat in their stomach when they eat a... big haul of caffeine.
[throat clearing]
Stand by as we wait for the situation in the vault to resolve.
[The music does some flourishes, then finishes.]
Ladies and gentlemen, it's official: We're experiencing some technical difficulties. And before we can open the vault - Vault 33, our flagship vault, full of the, uh, finest luxury items available to mankind, a- as of now - maybe we could put something on to keep people company while we figure out the technical difficulties. Sorry, these difficulties of course have nothing to do with Vault-Tec's vault tech. In- in- indeed…
Look, I need to have a whole cigarette right now. Just put on the song. Where are my smokes?
[The music starts up again while the announcer burns through a cigarette at the speed of a Corvega.]
Well, well, well! Here we are again! Ladies and gentlemen, we're dealing with a hiccup. Now, hiccups... might seem like a momentary stoppage, but this is a big hiccup. It's like God is hiccuping.
Vault-Tec is reporting that there's only one gatekeeper and one key on this vault model. The keys for these vaults are one of one, it fits like a glove, but it's - it's - these - these locks are very, very complicated.
God, it's so good to be on the other side of this. I don't think people know. People really don't know what's coming, and that's probably good. If you haven't watched… if you haven't watched the news up to this point, don't pick it up. Don't… just try and stay ignorant, uh, really don't find out what's going to happen because… it's bad, um, it's over.
[laughter]
The Earth is a slaughterhouse, and we are cattle!
[laughter]
We- we'll go back into, uh, a society resembling Bronze Age Mesopotamia. That's where we're going. It's not fun. Um... disease is… really prominent, um… we don't treat women well - let's just face it, it's - they - we don't treat them well now, but back then… oof. Rough. Rough treatment of women. You think we're racist now?
It's going to get bad. Where you want to be is underground. Vault-Tec vaults.
[A really tinny muted trumpet rises to its occasion as he disappears again for a bit.]
You know what else is great about Vault-Tec vaults? The air purification system. Let's talk about air. You need air to breathe, I need air to breathe, we need air to breathe. Vault-Tec's got it in spades! We've got oxygen candles straight from our finest nuclear submarines that you can burn, that turn nitrogen and carbon dioxide into oxygen molecules. Perfectly breathable, perfectly safe for your children, and your children's children, and your children's children's children in case we're there for three sweaty generations of sweaty living underground! In a fresh vault!
In fact, we put a family in a vault for 10 years and let them out just to see how it would go… and here they are now! "We loved it, uh… We loved it! That was great!" Uh… that's - I'm making it up! I'm making that up. I am imagining what could happen if I had more information about the vaults, but I don't have that information, so I'm making it up! Ha! Vault-Tec vaults, yes. Say yes to the tech!
[The music saves us for a bit.]
Unfortunately, we are back, the vault hasn't opened, and we have had absolutely no movement towards the vault opening, so! Hope you enjoyed that music. I know I was tapping my feet. Let's get back into it, where are we?
The US government has been quietly testing T-60 power armor suits as part of their long-standing defense contract with West Tek, following up the T-45 and T-51 efforts in the ongoing war with the People's Liberation Army.
[hisses through teeth]
How about that? How about that. The Man from Deadhorse gallops to a fast start at the box office! The Howard-led western is said to be the next smash for California Crest Studios.
[So the ghoul's name is probably Howard Something, or Something Howard. Interesting, but the announcer doesn't care and decides to throw another tantrum.]
Am I crazy or is this taking forever? I don't think I'm crazy, but I feel crazy! In fact, I might be the only person involved in this whole production who hasn't lost his mind! I'm looking at you, Arnie, I'm looking at you!
[Looking at Arnie yields nothing, again.]
"You don't know what to do, you don't know what to do." You idiot! I can't even get the word- I can't even get the information from you. Worthless!
[grunt of rage]
It's just me and Arnie here, I'm in hell, he's sitting there smiling at me, I'm in absolute hell!
Do you have a spot, Arnie? Do you have a spot in a vault? Oh! You do! What vault is that?
[long pause]
Oh, that's the one I'm in. Oh. Dear God.
[deep breath]
I guess we should get to know each other.
Ladies and gentlemen, we don't even know what's wrong here… but I can assure you that what isn't wrong is Vault-Tec technology, this has nothing to do with Vault-Tec's patented lock technology and everything to do with stupid people and human error. If you're this inefficient at work, what is home li- do - how do you wipe yourself?
[Uncalled-for, news announcer man.]
Ladies and gentlemen, please enjoy this music while we figure out what's going on.
[Musical break number who knows. Just over 11 minutes remain on the countdown.]
In other sponsored news, Nuka-Cola is celebrating the success of one of their newest flavor launches, Nuka-Cola Victory, with an exclusive redesign release later next year. Students that read over 10,000 books can be part of the ZAP IT! Program, rewarding literacy with sugar!
[deep breath]
I don't like Nuka-Cola. Personally... I don't like Nuka-Cola. Too sweet. I don't drink it. But it's popular, I have stocks in it, I invest - I invest in it. I don't drink it. It's the way the world is. Just because it's popular, doesn't mean it's good, just because it's good, doesn't mean it's popular. A can of Nuka-Cola, what is that, it's energy slowed down, right? It's the energy of the universe slowed down, right? What are we, what am I? We are energy slowed down into the form of a human being. All that's about to stop.
[laughter]
All that's about to stop! All that's about to go away! Maybe there's life on other planets. Maybe there's not. Are they going to come save us, no! If I were on another planet, and I came here, I would have an endless belly laugh at our folly, I mean, the folly of man! It's funny, there's so much written about the "folly of man." I mean, read Moby-Dick. Read… uh… what di- what happened with the - the wax wings, the wax wing guy? Wax wing man, Mr. Wax Wings, Daedalus. What's his name?
[Arnold hazards a guess we can hear: "Shakespeare?"]
Arnold, Shakespeare? Arnold, Arnold, good god… Shakespeare? Where did you go - you went to one of these hippie schools...
[Arnold tries again: "I think it was Icarus?" The announcer is ecstatic.]
Icarus! Icarus. Wow! You are good for something. Wow, Arnie!
Now, Icarus, he was close to the sun. In a Vault-Tec vault, you'll be as far from it as possible. You will be up to 50 feet underground, in a Vault-Tec vault, safe and sound in the knowledge that the wax on your wings will not be anywhere close to anything that will make it melt, except our new Vault-Tec oven!
[The horns come in again.]
Where are you f- what's your family situation? Do you have kids or…
[Arnold probably shakes his head.]
No kids? Good for you.
[laughter]
Are you single?
[Arnold: "Yeah."]
Ahh, yeah. I wouldn't recommend going into a vault single. You might want to lock someone down and take you in there - if only to help you fight - and, uh, survive, it's good to have a partner. Yeah… oof!
Anyway, glad I'm safe and secure in my vault! Um… I'm in the tax bracket that kind of... automatically gets a vault, so, sorry everybody. Uh… I'll be, uh, doing this thing called surviving, while you are all burning.
[deep breath]
What's the point of any of this? What's the point of any of this? Nobody - nobody listening to this can afford one of these things. Everybody listening to this is about to turn into an idea!
[laughter]
Instead of a being! But, here we are! Let's whoop it up! Let's whoop it up! It's a big parade… for the end of mankind! It's a big parade! Here's the final celebration, Arnie! Here we are!
Let's stake our claim in a dying planet! Let's plant our flag in a dead rock, and see how we feel. Let's see how we feel after the flag is planted, Arnie.
[a deep sigh]
I don't know how much longer I can do this, man.
[another deep breath]
My voice hurts, I'm thirsty, we're out of water, the muffins they laid out at the top of the day are dry and old, I feel dry and I feel old.
I give up! I give up.
[chuckles]
What's the point of this? I mean, what's the point of anything? I'm... I'm broken.
[Emotion creeps in.]
I'm broken. I'm changed. I am broken and I have changed. I…
[one more deep breath]
Thanks to you, Arnie. Thanks to you, man. Thanks, you're the best, yeah, thanks to you, pal. Thanks to you, buddy boy. You are just awful. You disgust me. Yeah, I'm just - I'm sorry. I'm - I'm just… I'm fried, man. I'm - I'm fried, pal. I'm fried. Dead. Gravestone, dead. Oh yeah, that's, okay.
Oh, god. Where are we in the process of the door opening?
[Arnold: "Yeah, it's over."]
What?
[A record scratch stops the music. Two minutes remain on the countdown.]
What's that? Oh!
[The announcer clears his throat, and the music changes to a triumphant fanfare.]
Ladies and gentlemen, I'm getting word. Ladies and gentlemen... I've gotten word that we are star- we are starting, ladies and gentlemen. It's happening! Here we are! Here we are, we got it, we got it, and now…
N- and now, this afternoon is unlike any other afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. It was the morning, now it's the afternoon - here we go! The crane is loweri- Here we go!
[relieved laughter]
Okay! Really close to the time where I can go, and get out of here! The crane is lowering, it is happening, the tumblers are tumbling! The crane is lowering, the tumblers are tumbling, we are… go! We're going! It's opening! It's opening!
[The static image of the vault has not changed in the slightest bit.]
You try doing this! You try doing this, Arnie! You try filling the time! Next time we'll switch places, Arnie, and you can try it! Oh boy, oh boy, here we go, thank god we're doing it and it's happening. I see motion, I see- I see Vault-Tec… I am convinced! Guys, this is great, it's been great, Arnie? It's been great. Arnie, it's been great. You know, I hope we are in the same vault. I'd like to spend the rest of my life with you, Arnie.
[slightly unhinged laughter]
As long as this happens right now, I am fine with spending the rest of my life with you! As long as the vault opens right now. The fact that nuclear fire could fall from the sky at any moment has made this broadcast that much more important. Thank you, thank you so much for joining us!
326 notes · View notes
venusphoriia · 2 months
Text
— Maybe In Another Life
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
;; ₍ # ₎ ⁀➷ Clarisse La Rue x Reader
─ she honestly would’ve loved you.
cw ཿ⠀ not proof-read, major character death, description of coping with losing a loved one, angst no comfort, (written with a female reader in mind, but honest no pronouns are used (I think??))
ପ a/n ; literally a quick dump (it’s been sitting in my drafts for about a month) because I’ve been super busy. I’m still working on Lovesick Denial Part 2 and another request, so one of those may be released next. Thank you so much for the support and I hope you enjoy! (⊃。•́‿•̀。)⊃♡︎
Tumblr media
Clarisse stares blankly at the gravestone. The flower gently twirls in her hands mindlessly. The sun felt warm against her skin, the wind—a perfect breeze. The weather was calm, mellow like the calm after a storm.
The sky was bright, much too bright for Clarisse’s liking. Especially now, but she knew this weather is something you enjoy. Everything looked so alive, free—perhaps even a bit happy. She felt so out of place. Nothing felt right, like something was missing. She knew, but she wanted to deny it a bit longer.
She sinks deeper into her thoughts—memories that she treasures. For a moment, she allows them to completely consume her senses, reliving them as if they were the present. She can hear your heartfelt laughter from afar, drawing closer as you approach her.
You quickly quiet your movements, sneaking up on Clarisse from behind. She closes her eyes, pretending not to hear you (like she always does). She feels you creep closer, you hand slowly reaching out towards hers. A soft chill runs up her spine as your fingertips brush against her skin.
She waits quietly for the sound of your voice, but it never comes. Clarisse brow furrows softly, she closes her eyes tighter in concentration. Your hands slip into hers, but they aren’t as soft as they used to be. Still, she imagines your smile as you slowly trail your hand up her arm, carefully tracing her scars as you alway did, until your hand rests along her neck.
Again, she listens carefully for your soft laughter, but again, she’s left waiting. She feels your hand cup her face and again the touch feels odd. It’s warm, but so foreign. Even the way you held her felt so…different. She tries to correct the mistakes in her mind, wanting to indulge deeper into her fantasy.
Again, she waits. Yearning to hear your voice, she waits as her eyes desperately remain closed.
“Clarisse?” Again, she is left disappointed. She breaks away from her daydream, her eyes slowly opening. Tears slip past her eyes as she meets a look full of pity and concern, “…You alright?”
The question is hesitant as if scared to provoke Clarisse’s anger. Clarisse looks away, down at his hand that carefully holds hers. The flower in her hand was tight in her grip as if she was afraid to let go.
“I’m fine,” her tone is rough as she wipes away her tears, pulling away from Chris’ touch.
Chris Rodriguez, son of Hermes. Someone she had grown close to since—no, she doesn’t want to think about it. She places the flower among the many others on the gravestone. A beautiful Daffodil among the many others. Clarisse smiles softly to herself as she sees the gifts others have left behind in your memory. She knew you would appreciate them all.
Your greatest fear was being forgotten—or worse being remembered as someone who never did much with their life. It brings Clarisse a little comforting knowing that your anxieties would’ve been put to rest if you had realized how much you are truly loved.
Clarisse wipes away her tears again, clearing her throat before standing back up. She walks past Chris, not being able to find the strength within herself to even spare him a glance. He doesn’t comment on it, following behind her, but also being mindful to keep his distance.
She looks down at her hand, the ring feels rather tight around her finger. A wave of anger, hurt, and disappointment hit her as she swallows the bitterness in her throat. She looks away. She pretends it’s your ring, your engagement—that she’s your fiance.
She truly would’ve married you. If only you’d been able to stick around, maybe you would have said yes.
Tumblr media
© venusphoriia 2024 — do not copy or repost any of my works on any other platform, please and thank you !! ( ˘ ³˘)♡
150 notes · View notes
bingwriterxo · 11 months
Text
a love more than love
pairing: wednesday addams x reader
summary: in which wednesday breaks her normal routine to visit you
warnings: mentions of death
word count: 750+
author's note: i posted this on wattpad a while ago, but i really enjoy it, so i wanted to bring it over to this platform, too!
Tumblr media
"Isn't this your designated writing time?" Enid asked her roommate, watching with curiosity as the raven-haired girl dug through her wardrobe, looking for a specific piece of clothing. 
Wednesday sighed, drew away from the piece of furniture, and turned towards the blonde. "Yes, Enid, but more important things have arisen."
"Such as...?" The blonde knew it was a dangerous game to pester the other girl, but she wasn't used to Wednesday going against her calculated schedule. It intrigued her more than it should have, and she wanted answers. 
"If you must know, I'm going to visit Y/N," Wednesday admitted. "It's been one year."
Enid's gaze flitted to the floor for a moment before returning to her roommate. "Oh." 
A heavy silence blanketed the two girls, and the Addams turned back around to continue her search, though it only lasted for a moment or two before she faced the werewolf again. 
"Have you seen my sweatshirt? The one with the zipper?" she asked, tapping her foot on the floor as she impatiently awaited a response.
"Thing dragged it under the bed the other day," Enid said, pointing towards Wednesday's mattress. With a curt nod as a thank you, the raven-haired girl walked over to her bed before dropping to her knees and reaching beneath it, her fingers finding the offending item. She pulled it out, dusted it off, and then put it on over her shirt. "Do you want me to come with you?"
Wednesday ignored her question. "I'll be back before night fall."
* * * 
The cemetery was completely empty of anything living when Wednesday arrived. She wandered through the area in search of your gravesite as she hadn't returned since the burial, but it wasn't hard to find: your tombstone--a stark white granite and surrounded by vibrant flowers, all left by friends that had visited that day--stood out amongst the others.
She sat in front of the gravestone, drawing her knees to her chest and resting her chin atop them, her arms wrapping around her legs. For a moment, she merely stared at the epitaph that had been engraved in the stone:
We loved with a love that was more than love.
It was a quote from your favorite Edgar Allan Poe poem, "Annabel Lee," and was a sentence that Wednesday had heard fall from your lips numerous times. It slipped off of your tongue in such an elegant way that it had seemed almost as natural to you as breathing. 
"We loved with a love that was more than love," Wednesday recited in a murmur. She reached a hand out, traced the words with her forefinger, tried to ignore the feelings that were stirring within her. "I loved you with a love that was more than love." 
Softly, she pressed her palm flat against the stone as though you would be able to reach out and touch your hand to hers, run your pinky along the edge of her own before looping the two together, bring her hand to your lips and press a light kiss to the tips of her knuckles. But you were no longer able to do any of these things, and she would never experience your fingers interlocked with her own again, and that thought alone caused a tear to slip from her eye and roll down her cheek.
"You weren't supposed to die." She pretended not to notice the crack of her voice, the guilt that was weighing in her chest, the sadness that invaded her heart. "It was supposed to be me."
It was Thornhill that caused your death: a single bullet had exited the chamber of her gun, and it had found its home in your stomach rather than Wednesday's. Minutes later, the raven-haired girl was left cradling your lifeless body with a horrible emptiness settling inside her. 
"You loved everyone with a love that was more than love," she whispered, frowning. "It wasn't meant to end so soon." A sob threatened to erupt from her throat, but she swallowed it down. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, cara mia."
With a shaky hand, she pressed her fingers to her lips before touching them against the stone, a gesture that the two of you had made your own. When you first began dating, on days when Wednesday couldn't stand much physical affection--which was quite frequent--you would kiss her by doing that exact motion, and she often found herself returning it. It quickly turned into a normal act of appreciation, and the two of you found yourselves doing it on a daily basis. 
"I will always love you with a love that is more than love."
841 notes · View notes
1caru · 10 months
Note
Please! Can you give us more LU in twilight’s hyrule?
More ancestor and descendant relationship between time and twilight! 🥹 *cries*
hehe I'm honored that you like my work so much and want more <3
unfortunately I already have a ton of other projects lined up, so I can't promise anything yet, but you did remind me that I wanted to write a bit of a second part to my Time and Skull Kid comic, so I whipped this up for you. it's not really edited or anything but hopefully you enjoy it anyway~
(here's the link to the comic that comes before this for anyone who hasn't seen it yet, please read it for context:
"Hold on, where's the old man?"
Twilight turned around sharply, drawing a surprised yelp from the sailor sitting on his shoulders. "What?"
"He was just here," said Four, "Did he just... wander off? That's not like him."
"Maybe he got grabbed by something!" Wind exclaimed, searching the dense foliage for any signs of monsters.
"We haven't seen any monsters since we arrived here, though," Hyrule said thoughtfully, “And we would have heard him put up a fight.”
Dread began to build in Twilight's chest as his wolfish senses caught the faintest sound of an ocarina. He lowered Wind from his back and approached Legend, pulling his map out and offering it to the veteran. "I'll go look for him. There's a Spirit Spring not far from here, wait for us there," he explained, tracing the path with his finger, "The tunnel up ahead is dark, so you'll need a lantern, but the tunnel after that is well lit and leads right to the spring. I'll be back soon."
"Hold your horses, rancher," Legend said, grabbing Twilight's shoulder with his free hand before the man could run off into the woods, "Shouldn't one of us come with you, just in case?"
"I... I think I know where he went," Twilight said softly, "Don't worry, I know every corner of these woods. Trust me."
Legend released Twilight's shoulder and watched as he almost immediately shifted into wolf form and darted back down the trail they had been following. He sighed and motioned to the rest of the group, glancing back at the map in his hand. "Well, come on then, guys."
*
Twilight raced along the scent trail, muscle memory carrying him effortlessly over tree roots and through small tunnels left by local wildlife. His ears flattened against his head in panic when he picked up Time's trail, heading in the exact direction he had predicted. Would he reach his mentor in time? Or had the man already discovered that which he should not see?
The plaintive whistle of the ocarina, which had been gradually increasing in volume, came to an abrupt halt, and Twilight's heart jumped in his chest as if to mimic it.
He was too late.
His paws slowed to a defeated trot as he approached the quiet clearing. He shifted back into his Hylian form, then silently crept through the bushes, bracing himself for what he would find.
Time knelt in the clearing with his back to Twilight, his arms wrapped around a very familiar little spirit. Just beyond them, a simple gravestone sat nestled in the mossy ground, the inscription on it as clear as the day it was chiseled:
Link, Hero and Mentor.
The spirit in Time's arms lifted his face from where it had been buried in the man's shoulder. Little yellow eyes met Twilight's pale blue ones, and the spirit gasped. “Link! Doggy Link is here too!”
Time turned in surprise, as if just remembering who he had been traveling with until ten minutes ago. He smiled at Twilight for a moment, but suddenly found it hard to make eye contact when he noticed the expression on his protege's face.
“Um, Skull Kid, would you give us a moment?” he asked softly, looking down at the spirit that was still clinging to him.
Skull Kid held on tighter, suddenly looking very scared that Time might simply vanish if he let go.
“I'm not going anywhere, I promise,” Time soothed, “I just need to talk to him. I'll stay right here, okay?”
Twilight nodded behind him.
Skull Kid studied Twilight for a moment, then looked up at Time. “...Okay,” he murmured. He picked up the ocarina he had dropped earlier and pressed it into Time's hand. “Play this when you are done, okay? You better play it!”
Time smiled. “I will.”
He watched Skull Kid hop off into the trees, then rose to his feet, cradling the little tan ocarina in his hand. His thumb ran over the polished surface, the texture so familiar yet such a distant memory. He looked back at the gravestone, suddenly regretting that time their little group had taught each other how to read their different Hylian scripts.
“Seems I've wandered somewhere I should not have gone, haven't I?” he sighed.
Twilight walked into the clearing and stood by Time's side, somberly following his mentor's gaze. “Did Skull Kid tell you anything?”
“No,” Time replied, “But actions often say more than words can.”
They stood there in silence for a moment, unsure how to approach the subject at hand.
Twilight opened his mouth to speak, but Time quickly raised a hand to stop him. “Pup, I will not ask for an explanation if you do not want to give it. The flow of time is all too easily altered after all, one little word can completely change the course of history. However,” he continued, turning towards the young man, “I've seen the way you look at me, especially when our journey began. Someone your age should not have to look so sad. If telling me about this will ease some of the burden you carry, then I am more than happy to listen.”
Twilight looked up at him, his thoughts tripping over themselves in an effort to reach a decision. He desperately wanted to tell Time everything, how he had met him, what he knew of his mentor's fate. He wanted to tell him that changing the flow of time was his greatest desire, that he wished every day for a way to save Time from a death filled with regret and sorrow. And yet, his mind always wandered to that moment, when he had dealt the final blow to Ganondorf. The blow that Time's spirit had taught him. Would he had been able to defeat the Demon King if his ancestor had not been there to guide him? Would “saving” Time ultimately mean dooming Hyrule? Would it mean dooming more young heroes after him to take up the sword and attempt what he could not accomplish?
The rancher closed his eyes and leaned forward, resting his forehead on Time's breastplate as his shoulders sagged and tears threatened to form. Time held him close, rubbing gentle circles on his arm with one hand and wrapping the other around his upper back, still clutching the ocarina.
“It's more of a memorial than a grave,” Twilight eventually spoke, "I met your spirit during my journey. You taught me your sword techniques. I suppose I just wanted to thank you by honoring your memory."
Time hummed in response. “I must have been a good teacher then. Your skills are amazing to watch in action.”
Twilight let out a watery chuckle. “They saved my life more times than I can count.” He rested in Time's arms for a moment more, then pulled away with a small smile. “I think that's all I can say for now. Go ahead and spend some time with Skull Kid, I'll tell the others you'll catch up later. Ask Skull Kid to lead you to Ordon Village when you're done.”
“Thank you,” Time said gratefully.
Twilight nodded and headed back out of the clearing.
“...You know,” Time continued, looking at the ocarina thoughtfully, “That song he was playing, it's not from Hyrule.”
Twilight paused.
“It holds a very powerful magic, one said to put the sorrows of the departed who hear it to rest and allow them to pass on peacefully.”
Pale blue eyes widened as another memory floated to the surface. A stone sitting on a mountain path, howling a song that he had mimicked without wondering what it meant. A song that had been answered by a golden wolf with a single eye. A Shade, uttering words that Twilight had almost forgotten in his worry over Time.
At last, I have eased my regrets.
Perhaps things would turn out all right in the end after all.
508 notes · View notes
i-am-hungry-24-7 · 8 days
Text
How to remember? - Simon Riley + John Price*F!Reader
“If we meet in next life, how can I recognize you?” “We won’t remember each other, honey.” “Just tell me.” “Then just know, I love white flowers, okay?”
(The men still remain the memories from their past life, but you don’t.)
Price:
He hates white.
It just reminds him of his past life, your ward painted in flawless white, and you left him too early, in that room surrounded with lackluster white and the solitude ghosted him till the end of his life.
He wonders when will he encounter you in this life, a part of him is afraid, that he never see you again.
The thought clouded his mind as he steps into a flower shop, he comes here to pick up the bouquet he ordered. He gain the habit of decorating his flat with white flowers in his room for you, even though it sometimes brings him sorrow.
but his turmoiling mind drops to silence when he spots you.
You look bothered, there’s a man who keeps shoving different colors of flowers at you, but just no white among them.
“She loves white flowers.” Price strolls to your side, picks up a white rose, and he sees your face beams up when he gently shows you the flower.
“better understand the girl more before trying to flirt with her.
After the man rushes out of the shop with embarrassment, Price turns to face you, only to see you looking at him with gratitude.
He wants to cry, actually, he wants to take you into his arms, nuzzle his nose against your neck, tell you how much he misses you, how long he’s been searching for you.
But he knows too clearly, that you don’t remember him.
“Thank you, Mister...?” You ask with softness.
“Call me John.”
“Thank you, John.” You grin delightfully “The guy’s been keep talking to me since he come in.”
“I think he comes in for you, not for the flowers, love.” Chuckling, he picks up some Lily of the Valley and hands it to you.
“You have good taste in flowers, John.” you laugh along with him “But why do you know I love white flowers?”
“...” Price stares at your diamond-like eyes, confusion is obvious inside.
“Maybe we had met in our last life?” He swallows the bitterness back.
“Don’t know you’re such a romantic person.”
“Well, I’m here to get my bouquet. but...” you wait at the same spot as John walks to the counter, minutes later, he comes back with two bouquets in his hands.
and he gives you the one with white roses and Lily of the Valley, decorated with a sky-blue ribbon.
“Oh John, I can’t take this!”
“Consider it as a gift for our first meeting, eh?”
“Well...” He watched you take over the bouquet carefully and suddenly raised your head in excitement. “I know a tea shop nearby, they got some really nice Earl Grey, if you have time, how about we go there and learn about each other more?”
The white flowers shuffle slightly as you shift in happiness. John takes in your feature, finally, this time he can do this in reality, rather than tracing your figure in his mind every night.
and he smiles, hands resting your lower back to lead you out of the flower shop.
“Of course, my pleasure, love”
(white rose: love, loyalty/ lily of the valley: a return of happiness)
Ghost:
White in his memories always accompanied by red after the crimson stained on the flower necklace you always wore.
The painful color engraved in his mind when he took off your necklace from you, before you got put into the bodybag after the mission.
He brought the necklace you left everywhere, caressing it when he almost lost the courage to keep going, holding it against his chest without a gap in those sleepless and weeping nights when you visited his mind again and again.
Even until his next life, he still can’t see white without the hideous incarnadine.
It brings back the memories, the days he still basked in your warmth, instead of bringing you the white flowers and talking to your gravestone.
He doesn’t have a specific interest in flowers, but he knows you have, so he’s willing to go to every flower show, in the hope of seeing you in the crowds.
Today’s another day for seeking you among the countless people. It’s the opening day for the show, and they organize the areas with colors, so once he steps into the park, he heads straight towards the area for white flowers.
He sits on the bench for hours, eyes searching every corner, scanning every person, but there’s no you inside them.
Simon takes a glimpse at the sun, it’s about to set, and the soothing orange of the dusk covers the red inside his mind a bit.
maybe you’ll be here tomorrow, he stands up and starts pacing back to the entrance.
Just as he’s about to leave, he hears a familiar grumble nearby, and he instantly snaps his head in the direction.
There’s you, dressing in an ivory-yellow sundress, looking at the map, and trying to figure out the path to the white flower area.
Simon doesn’t hesitate before he strides to your side.
“The white flower area is on the right side.”
You jump when you hear someone suddenly talk to you, yet your voice is still full of appreciation when you speak.
“Oh! Thank you! I’m trying to figure out how to go there!” You laugh sheepishly “Are you planning to go there too?”
“Yeah, I can lead you there” He nods “If you want to”
“Great! I’m more than happy if you can bring me there.”
Simon walks slightly in front of you on your way to the area, he assumes standing beside you may pressure you too much, but he can’t help but keep looking back at you.
You look as stunning as the memories he recalls when he was alone, but now you are beside him again, and all he can do is stay silent, so those affection and love managing to slip out of his lips won’t succeed.
“Looks like we arrive!” You fish out your phone immediately and start taking a bunch of photos, he moves til he’s inches behind you, watching you infatuated with the snow-white flowers waving in the breeze.
It sure is beautiful, Simon thinks when he immerses in the scene in front of him— Your flowing yellow dress brings out the beauty of the flowers, but nothing’s more fascinating than the elegant grin spreading along your lips.
“Sorry, I just immediately started shooting the flowers. I just can’t resist the pretty of white flowers” You apologize when you turn around and still find the man leading you here still at the same spot, yet a question comes into your mind at the same time. “but why do you know I was looking for white flowers?”
“I guess...” He looks into your eyes, contemplating if he should say this “I guess we met before, in the past life.”
“Hey, surprising that you’re the kind of person who believes in past life!” You raise your eyebrows “But yeah...”
“I have no idea where the idea comes from, but I feel like I have met you before.”
Simon holds his breath when the words flow into his ears. There’s no doubt that you don’t remember him, but he can feel the soreness forming around his eyes.
“Well, I need to go” Checking the time on your phone, you continue “I haven’t asked your name yet, Sir.”
“Simon.” He mumbles under his breath.
“Simon, it’s really nice to meet you.” Your smiles widen.
“I’ll be here tomorrow at 4 pm., I look forward to seeing you here, and we can go have dinner together too.”
Waving goodbye, Simon doesn’t move his eyes from your rear until you disappear in the distance.
and he looks at the white flowers again, but he blinks twice when his eyes land on the flowers.
There’s no dark red in them anymore, but a hint of comforting yellow is surely spreading across the white.
134 notes · View notes
steddieasitgoes · 1 year
Text
It’s Mother’s Day 1973 and Steve’s mom isn’t home.
Instead of spending the day with her only son, she’s left to follow her husband on his latest business trip. Steve doesn’t remember where she’s going, just that she promised to bring him back a snow globe for his collection. The one that sits on the highest shelf the bookcase in his room — collecting dust.
He’s been pawned off to his nanny again. Poor Ms. Anderson who has put her own middle-aged life on hold to raise a kid whose not hers. Steve’s not stupid. He knows his parents pay her well to take care of him, but he still wishes she’d tell them off. At least, put up a fight, so she didn’t have to spend all her weekends with him.
Usually the duo stay cooped up in the Harrington’s House. Ms. Anderson will cook him a nice meal and they’ll spend the afternoon playing games or watching movies. She’ll fall asleep early in the movie and Steve will disappear to play with his toys or snoop through his parents things to try to figure out where they’ve gone this time.
Today’s different though.
It’s Mother’s Day, after all.
Today, Ms. Anderson has taken him to Roane Hill Cemetery. She lets him hold a massive bouquet of pink carnations as she gathers a picnic blanket and basket from the back of her car.
“What are we doing here?” Steve asks, struggling to keep pace with Ms. Andersons determined steps.
“Visiting my mom.”
“But isn’t she…” Steve doesn’t finish the sentence.
“Yeah,” she says, spreading out the blanket next to a small gravestone. “But just because someone’s gone doesn’t mean they’re out of our lives. Coming here makes me feel connected to her.”
Steve doesn’t understand that. 
How can Ms. Anderson feel connected to her dead mom if she can’t even look at her? He doesn’t even feel connected to his own mom when she’s in the same room as him.
Maybe it’s a girl thing, he thinks.
Steve sits down quietly, after that. Ms. Anderson clearly needs this visit and Steve’s not going to interfere with her plans. Not when said plans get him out of the house for the first time in a week. So he sits and listens to Ms. Anderson talk to the headstone. Watches as she digs out a small flower pot in the ground to place the flowers in.
It’s only when she ducks her head in a prayer that Steve decides to explore.
“Don’t go too far,” she warns. “And be mindful of others!”
The cemetery is full of older people. Some sit on blankets like Ms. Anderson with gorgeous flowers and picnic baskets full of food, ready to spend hours with their departed mothers. Others, stay for a few minutes. Set down flowers and tap headstones before ducking their heads while retreating to their cars.
There’s laughter and tears and Steve doesn’t know how to feel about all of it, except lonely.
He wishes there was someone his age around here.
Steve ventures deeper into the cemetery, where the trees are taller and fuller. Older, Steve thinks. It’s through a small clearing that he spots a boy about his age sitting in front of a headstone. An older man stands behind him, a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
He’s too far away to know for sure, but he’s pretty sure the boy is talking to the headstone. Head tilted forward, shoulders hiccuping up and down like the boy is crying. Steve wonders who he could be visiting. Certainly not his mom, right? He’s much too young to not have a mom — Steve should know.
He watches as the little boy leans forward and kisses the headstone and Steve realizes it must be.
Steve must make a sound, a gasp or a small cry because the boy and the older man’s head whip around in his direction. He’s still too far away to hear, but he can tell the man is telling the boy something. Whispering in his ear before nodding his head in Steve’s direction.
He should leave. Ms. Anderson is probably done with her prayer now and she’ll be worried if he’s not back soon, but he can’t leave. Not when he spots the little boy trudging through the tall grass towards him.
“Are you lost?” the boy asks.
Steve shakes his head.
“What are you doing all the way out here then?”
Steve shrugs. “Was that… were you talking to your mom?”
“Yeah,” Eddie nods, looking over his shoulder. “Uncle Wayne says it’s good to come talk to her ‘cause she gets lonely too. Are you here for your mom?”
“Oh no,” Steve says. “My mom is, well she’s not here but—”
“Do you want to help me?” Eddie asks, before Steve can finish it. “Wayne wants me to go find a yellow flower in the field over there. It’s so big I could use some help.”
“Sure!” Steve says, happy to finally have someone his age to talk to. “But why yellow?”
“It’s my mom’s favorite color!” Eddie smiles. “She said, she always felt like the sun was touching her when she wore it. It was her happy color.”
Years later, when Steve and Eddie have reconnected and they’re going through Steve’s closet to find items to donate, Eddie will ask Steve why he has so many yellow sweaters.
“It makes me feel like the sun, warm and happy,” Steve says, smiling softly. “I used to wrap myself in yellow whenever my parents left me home alone.”  
And it’s then and only then do the two of them realize they met long before they crossed paths in the halls of Hawkins High and even longer before portals to hell-like dimensions open.
833 notes · View notes
lamina-tsrif · 24 days
Note
DO YOU WANT TO FIGHT TO THE DEATH??? IS THAT IT?
WAR LEAVES NO VICTORS BUT I HAVE ALREADY POLISHED MY GRAVESTONE PUT THEM PAWS UP 🐾🐾🐾
Tumblr media
91 notes · View notes
fuctacles · 6 months
Text
Making moves the nerd way
"Halloween" for @steddieholidaydrabbles Part II of the previous warm-up but can be read alone
G | 1k | no cw | almost getting together, slightly oblivious Eddie
next up
Eddie was sitting on the kitchen floor, painting empty pizza boxes while Steve was trying to focus on making dinner. Despite the newspapers spread around him, he managed to stain his surroundings with grey paint. 
“How much do you have left?”
"I'm making a graveyard, Steve, not a random burial site with three corpses. It would go faster if you helped me, you know?” 
“Well, do you want to eat? Because I can’t cook pasta and paint tombstones at the same time.”
Eddie grumbles something under his breath. 
“Point taken.”
So they resume their activities, a weird mixtape of Metallica, Queen and Tears for Fears playing in the background. 
“Okay, little Picasso, time to eat," Steve announces eventually.
"Don't call me like I'm a toddler," Eddie scolds him, but the fact that he's peeking over the table while on his knees, eyeing the plate put there, does nothing to help his statement.
Steve smirks at him, at the half-tied mop of hair surrounding his eyes over the counter.
"Wash your hands before eating. Kiddo."
"I'm older than you!" he protests but hops up anyway to do as he was told. It's good Steve reminded him though, he'd probably just throw himself at the spaghetti like a savage, paint stains or not.
They eat and discuss the acceptable damage to Harrington's lawn to prop up the gravestones. Eddie's devastated to hear he can't just put holes in the ground.
"We can prop them up with sticks. Or weigh them down with rocks. We'll figure something out," Steve shrugs and that placates him for the time being. He helps with the dishes but is quickly shooed back to his art station. Steve joins him later, with a hand in his hair.
"How is it going, baby?"
Eddie grumbles, not looking up.
"I know you mean it in like, a kid way, but maybe don't call me that?" he says, double-focusing on the cardboard in front of him.
"Okay, kid, sorry," Steve amends, petting his hair, and scratching his scalp gently. Pretends not to see Eddie fold under the treatment. "Does my little artist need help?"
"Your little artist has been asking for help for the past two days."
Steve snorts, detangling his fingers from the long hair.
"That's fair, sorry. I guess you wore me down," he says, sitting down. "What do I do?"
Eddie finally turns away from his work, considering him.
"You can paint them over," he decides, handing him the grave he's been working on. "I'll cut them up." He grabs a new pizza box for himself, the needed shape already drawn on it with a Sharpie. His scissors follow the outline slowly and jaggedly, struggling with the thick cardboard.
“How many do we need?” Steve asks, dipping the brush in paint. 
“At least ten. I don’t have stuff for more anyway, figures I can just make extra later when I have time and supplies.”
Steve looks around.
“We have like, three,” he observes.
“Well, chop chop then, my little helper.”
Steve sighs and gets to work. 
While he’s happy to indulge Eddie and help him out, he’s been imagining their evening together differently. Getting one-on-one time in their little traumatized family was a rare thing unless you're already an established couple. Or him and Robin, but that's because they work together. Needless to say, it was hard to make a move on someone. Even with something already brewing between them. 
“So, are we putting our enemies’ names on them?” he settles on learning more about Eddie instead. Hopes he doesn’t mind treating his graveyard project like a shared effort, that Steve says ‘we’ instead of ‘you’.
“Oh, I’m totally absolutely putting Vecna on one. Other than that I think I’ll keep them fantasy-themed. Maybe use all the NPCs my Party killed throughout the campaign. I think we’ve seen enough of that in real life.”
“You said it.” Steve mentally kicks himself in the ass. Just his luck to start a topic that goes straight into the trauma of their Upside Down past. How is he supposed to make a move now?
He shuts up and starts painting the cardboard more angrily while Freddie Mercury screams his lungs out in the background. He doesn’t notice when the cardboard cutting ceases. 
Not until their hands brush when they both reach for the paint. He looks up to see most of the boxes cut up and shaped, waiting for paint.
“My hand started to cramp from the scissors. And you looked so peaceful, I wanted to join you,” Eddie explains. Steve watches him bite at his bottom lip, mulling something over. “I’ve always liked working with someone on projects like that. Help out with school play scenography, make Halloween costumes with Wayne…” He shrugs, like it’s not a big deal, but the soft, genuine smile tells Steve otherwise. “So uh, thank you, for letting me do this here. For joining me, too.”
And Steve realizes this could be a date, too. He could make a move like this, on his kitchen floor, fingers stained with paint. 
“Of course. I have this weekend off, we could work together some more,” he offers. Then frowns at Eddie’s stunned expression. “What?”
“You want to spend your time off with me, playing with paint?”
“Well, I was hoping you have something more planned. We could work on our costumes, maybe?”
He’s alarmed when Eddie makes a pained noise.
“You’ll take Aragorn from me!”
“What?”
“We’ve been fighting over Lord of the Rings characters for Halloween costumes and if you join us there’s no way Henderson will let me keep him.”
“I don’t need to join in, I’d rather just help you with your costume.”
To this, Eddie turns suspicious.
“Why?” he squints.
“Eddie,” he sighs, staring fondly into his eyes, and grabs his wrist for good measure.
Eddie’s eyes go big like saucers when it hits him.
"Holy shit. Do you want to have a nerd date with me?”
Steve chuckles. 
“I guess I do.”
227 notes · View notes
jacksprostate · 3 months
Text
For a moment, my world is a single concussive blast, shattering my skull and sending my soul straight to hell. Direct flight. Short enough, there's no single serving refreshments to match the minty white hot incineration of my mouth.
When I open my eyes, cavern the size of Kansas blown through my last good cheek, the afterimage light of the bullet inflicted on the world — it's with the distinct sense that I fucked up.
I had told Marla, I wasn't killing myself. I was killing Tyler. But doesn't anyone with a gun in their mouth want to die?
I try speaking, and it works about as well as one would expect. I wave them away. Even Marla. Strangely enough, they listen. Or maybe they go to find a paramedic. No one ever told them to staunch the massive source of blood flow first. That's alright.
This is time to think. Solo reflection before group therapy.
I am alone, and Tyler is nowhere in sight.
Maybe it really was a murder suicide. Both victims, Tyler Durden. Cause of death, his stupid, stupid creator stopped wanting him. I realize this puts me in the stance of God, and I shudder. Tyler is not one of millions axeing themselves because daddy dearest and holy didn't love them enough.
And yet, I'm standing in his paraffin iconography. His pointless tomb.
Tyler says, "That's not quite nice, you know."
Tyler.
Cortisol receptors, burnt, back on fire.
Houston, we have a problem.
Tyler.
Tyler says, "Did you really think that would work? Tied it up in your head with a little bow, metaphorical gravestone marked with my name?"
Tyler says, "Didn't think you had it in you, psycho boy."
I stumble. I fall onto the ground and my head should ricochet and get scrambled like hens who've just met the fox. I fall on the ground, and my head falls into Tyler's lap. He looms over me, eyes crinkled like when he kissed me and introduced me to lye.
Tyler.
He cards his fingers through my hair. Supports my head with his palm. Turns it this way and that, tsking, humming.
Tyler says, "You did quite the number on yourself, psycho boy."
It feels like he could crack my skull open, pour out the contents like it's egg drop soup. There is sweetness to how he handles me.
"I told you," he says. "We won't really die."
Did Tyler move the tip of the gun? Did Tyler save my life?
"No. You fucked up killing yourself all on your own," Tyler says.
I wasn't trying to kill myself. I wanted to kill Tyler.
"Same thing," Tyler says, and my eyes water.
He lets his fingers slip close to the mangled chops of my cheeks. It is something that should probably hurt, but when he sticks his fingers in my face, I feel nothing. I can't tell if it's because it's not real and I don't have the energy for Tyler to use my hands, or if it's because my pain has become the ultimate white ball of healing light.
Two of his fingers slip into the gash of my old scar. It's been open since I learned about Patrick Madden. He fingers my mouth, traces the bitten chunk of my tongue. Tyler chides me. How could I ever expect fight club to release me from myself, now? It loves us too much.
"Not just Tyler Durden," he says.
Tyler says, "You might be my shadow, but they love you, too. They see you."
Be still my beating heart.
Why paraffin, Tyler?
Why not blow up the building. Doesn't this mean anything?
I thought it was my secret will to live. Tyler had come to me, perfectly handsome and an angel in his everything-blond way. My will to live tried to commit suicide, sure, but maybe he didn't. Did Tyler add the paraffin, just like how he tipped the gun?
"I told you," Tyler says. "I didn't tip the gun."
I didn't though. I wanted to die.
Why paraffin?
Tyler says, "Look at what you are now. What you've come to accept. In the best operas, the best stories, you don't really die. You learn a lesson. You up the stakes."
He pulls at my newest wound, stretching the skin tight. It gushes blood direct into my throat. Tyler opens me like a chip bag, and now I have no corners to my mouth but the ones all the way back at my ears. I've got four nice chops, ready to be pared.
Dragon of avarice.
Rough cut of beef. Pork. Good enough for stew, maybe.
I can hear the police helicopters, closer, closer. The impending doom of my discovered resurrection.
Tyler says, "You've been here since the start. I wouldn't be here in the first place if you didn't want me."
Trying to kill myself would never kill Tyler. I love him too much. It's the experience of being me I want to let go of. I stopped wanting to wake up.
That means I'm the hallucination.
Tyler says, "Think of it as metamorphosis."
Tyler is a sculptor. Carver. He is slicing the unneeded and unwanted parts of me away. This is just the largest cut of his knife. I think of little soap bears made by Boy Scouts. I am his self portrait.
Tyler says, "This is only the first step."
The helicopters land. There's stitches on every single officer.
135 notes · View notes
writingoddess1125 · 5 months
Note
Okay since Corazon is dead, sadly, and he will never get to see his child grow, do you think reader will take them to his grave and told stories ( mostly about how clumsy he was) to their kid?
Heart of Gold
Ready to Cry! You've been Warned
⚠️ Warnings ⚠️ Sad Topics, Character Death, Bittersweet.
Tumblr media
If you Like Click Here! <-
"Mami! Mami!" Your 6 year old daughter called out to you, running ahead as she smiled back at you proudly- it seemed a 20 minute hike didnt slow her down as much as it did you.
Dulce looked more like him everyday- it would be difficult to hide her once she got older... his big goofy smile, The Mess of blonde hair that seemed impossible to tame besides a beanie you put her in.
With a on her lips she continued to trudge through the snow, not letting the winter weather denture her it seemed. She hated to miss the weekly visits to her father..
It was another few minutes of walking before you reached it- The beautiful open clearing that had a single headstone surrounded by clear untouched snow besides two bare rose bushes on either side of the grave. It looked truly sorrowful during the winter and made the reality harder-
During the spring the clearing was filled with pink bleeding heart flowers and the rose bushes would blood, making it feel like Corazon was near by and next to you. Youd had planted it all when your daughter was one and the since bloomed just around her birthday- You'd said it was a gift from her father.
Dulce rushed forward, Sitting right infront of the stone. Uncaring of the cold as she started her normal routine. Clearing the snow off the stone while chatting away.
"Hace Frío.. don't worry! All the snow gone soon" Dulce said cheerfully, finishing wiping the snow as you took a seat. Pulling out candles to light, however pausing when you saw something to the left of the stone. Picking it up it was a fresh pack of unopened cigarettes- the same brand Corazon uses to smoke.. setting it down I front as you decided to leave the offering someone had clearly left your partner-
Dulce helped you light the candles and set out some of the things your brought, a cherry cake and a bottle of the liquor he liked. Once everything was set you sighed content.
"Can you tell me about him?" Dulce asked, always asking this when you two visited and wanting a new story about him.
"Yes my darling- Well He Acted very tough" You said with a giggle, choosing your words carefully.
"See- Your father had the act of a big tough guy, but if you scratched the surface you saw how much of a Goofy sweet man he was. Biggest heart too"
Dulce smiled widely, her attention fully on you as you spun your tale. Talking about the time Corazon had taken you out on a date, trying to be smooth and woo you over as he reached over to wrap a arm around you- however his lit cigarette catching the feathers of his coat and setting him ablaze. Dulce laughing as you described the child like scream he had as he tossed the coat to the ground and rapidly stopped on it like a mad man-
Or when he tried to walk towards you in a 'attractive' way- long strands and -but his long giraffe like legs seemed to not catch up as he face planted hard right before you cracking a tooth and givibg you a bit cheesy smile as you helped him up.
You had Dulce laughing and smiling for half an hour as you told her new and exciting tales of her father. After a while she had to take a moment to catch her breath- you as well. Dulce looking to the stone, as a serious look went over her eyes- Biting her lip a bit hesitantly.
"..Mamí... how did papa.. leave?" She asked softly, you frowning softly at her words.
"That is something even I'd like to know.." You said softly, looking at the gravestone of your lover. You had so many questions yourself... who would kill him? Who had brought him back? Had he intended to leave you and Dulce the way he had?
You wish at times as well it had been you who had brought him back, placing his tombstone- but more then anything you were greatful for whoever it was.. They had brought him home. Your hand reaching out and touching the icy stone with a gentle hand.
Dulce sees you do this, reaching out herself to touch the stone- her tiny fingers flinching at the coldness of it all. She stared for a moment, before reaching into her pockets clumsily-
"Mira, Papa, hice esto para ti- I made it in school" Dulce said softly as she set the now unfolded peice of construction paper down on the gravestone using the full box of cigarettes to pin it so it didn't fly away. There a crayon drawing of three stick figure people standing in the snow- Dulce in the middle holding your hand to the left and to her right a rendering of her father. She had never seen him- but you had told her what he looked like and even showed the single photo you had of him.
The stick figure man having a big red smile, a pink hat and the black feather coat- which looked like your daughter had done squiggles on his shoulder but that just made it sweeter. However what made your eyes misty was the big yellow heart on his chest and the blue halo around his pink hat.
"I hope you like it- Mamí says you had a heart of gold, I couldnt find gold so I hope yellow is okay?" Dulce said softly, beginning to talk about what she did to color it and make it pretty just for him. Speaking to the stone like he was truly there sitting infront of her, saying how she fell when she went to find a pink crayon since another kid took it and so on.
You bit your lip to hold back tears at this, The ache in your heart at the sight and you gently bowed you head to keep your daughter from seeing.
After a moment of silence you reached over, having finally been able to hold back your tears. Reaching over you pat your daughters back-
"Let's head back sugar" You say softly, Your little girl nodding as her nose wad starting to turn red. Scooping her up in your arms you turned away from the stone. Beginning the long walk back to your home-
Tumblr media
145 notes · View notes