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clockworkgraystairs · 4 years

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There is no such thing as vampires #1 || Jurdan AU

Jurdan Smut Week 2020 • DAY 2

The prompt was technically dagger play...it didn’t really worked that way but HEY more smut! (vampire smut cough)

@jurdannet @jurdannetrevels

Rating: E (no I don’t mean ‘everyone’)

Warnings: Explicit content, mentions of blood, some biting (it’s a vampire au c’mon), swear words (just in case)

Summary:

Behind me stands a tall, slender man dressed in black trousers and one of those puffy white shirts men always use in period TV dramas. Raven curls frame the sharp angles of his face and his pale skin resembles marble. I stare at him unsure if my eyes widen because of the scare or how good looking he is. Maybe both.

His lips curve as if he finds my reaction somehow satisfying.

Extra comments: Just because I’m extra af, I’ll leave you the ambience music videos I listened while writing this. In case you’d like to hear them while reading:

Rain in a forest at night - Haunted Mansion/rain/thunder/wind - Narnia Lullaby

Written for: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 MA’AM AS ALWAYS THANK YOU FOR ALL THE HELP AND SUPPORT, FOR BETAING THIS UNENDING PIECE AND FOR HELPING ME CRAFTING THE IDEA FOR IT! ❤️

Part 1 || Part 2

Masterlist • AO3

“Please tell me again why are we doing this?” I ask for the third time, leaning to rest my head on my sister’s shoulder. We bounce as the uncomfortable van we travel in turns to a cobbled path, leading us deeper into the woods.

“Because,” Vivi hisses back. “Your little brother is currently in his Twilight-obsession phase, and he just broke up with his girlfriend so we’re trying to cheer him up!”

“He’s 9! And they lasted like, what? Four hours?”

In that moment, Oak turns violently from the front seat, scowling at me. “First of all Jude, we were together two full days ok? She was the love of my life and suddenly she’s not sure about us anymore? Now I shall never find love again! I might have to become a priest. I expect a little consideration.”

Vivi ruffles his hair affectionately. “We absolutely understand, your sister here doesn’t have an ounce of romance in her veins but of course she supports the cause.”

That said, he returns to his place. I bite my lip hard, trying not to laugh. Typical Oak. I love my brother I really do, even if half of the time I can’t understand his dramatic outbursts.

Sighing, I stare through the window, to the heavy clouds gathering on top of us. Great. We are probably far away from the highway by now, nothing more than trees, rocks and occasional wild animals around. For some reason, our father had thought that there was no better way of fixing a kid’s broken heart than going on a quest in search of legends and hidden castles.

The thing is that apparently, it works. Instead of an incessant whining about love being doomed, my brother spends the days throwing the most random facts about werewolves, vampires, ghosts and any impossible creature. To be honest, I don’t think wikipedia and the Twilight books are a reliable source, but if it makes Oak happy I could live a couple of days with it. And most importantly if I have to choose between this or spending the week back at home with my mother and twin sister going to tea parties for old ladies, well, the answer is very clear.

I remember reading a few books about myths when I was younger. When I turned fifteen, I developed a hard crush on Brad Pitt after I saw Interview with the Vampire, filling half of the walls in my room with posters of him. Even now ten years later, I actually enjoy talking about old folklore and legends, urban myths and stuff like that.

What bugs me, are the fraudulent morons who want to take advantage of Oak’s naive curiosity to engage us in the most ridiculous tours that were obviously a waste of money. So far, we’d entered three “museums” where most of the so-called relics were made of plastic, and a haunted house with special effects so poorly done, father had discreetly asked for his money back. Only another two of the places we visited were actually interesting, but since the guides spent most of the time flirting with Vivi or me, it had annoyed our father.

Now though, we are driving behind the car of an old couple who swore their ancestors owned a castle where true vampires had lived once. The sole mention of the word “castle” was enough to make Oak hang from our father’s sleeve begging to go.

I’m not going to lie, it is an intriguing idea. But I remain a little worried about how much money Madoc is ready to pay before he hurries his little son back to his fantasy books and videogames.

“Dad, did you know that vampires like to live in the woods because it allows them to make racing competitions without being interrupted?” Oak asks with enthusiasm.

Madoc gasps. “Do they? Is it because they’re so fast?”

Okay, he might be willing to pay more than I thought. Next to me, Vivi muffles a laugh and keeps taking pictures for her instagram, occasionally asking for my help.

Upon arriving at the castle I have to suppress a curse. This, now, is a real castle. Nothing like the pitiful buildings we’d visited before. It is huge, made of pure stone and a modest wooden bridge that connects the entrance with the spot where the cars park. A slight fog covers the sides of the castle giving it a creepier look.

A shiver goes down my back. I turn to find my family who are all equally gaping at the place in front of them. Oak is visibly shaking with excitement. Vivi shoots me an astonished look before taking my brother’s hand and following the couple across the bridge.

The first thought that pops into my mind is that this place must have been taken out from a movie. Or set up for one. Maybe this is one of those pranks for TV. There is no other explanation for the massive room we find behind the giant front gate. Every inch of the walls is covered by paintings, several images barely recognizable through the dust. Aged furniture rests under dust and spiderwebs, pointing out they haven’t been used in quite some time. The illumination doesn’t help either. Electric lights hang from a few spots on the walls, though not enough for the big space, which I suspect is the reason that long candles are lit up too.

My next thought is that I should’ve brought my sweater. The damn place is freezing.

“Phew, sorry about the dust!” The old man says, flashing an embarrassed smile to us. “We were not planning to have any visitors yet.”

“You said this is going to be a museum?” Madoc asks, carefully surveying the walls. Next to him, Vivi tightens her hold on my brother’s hand to prevent him from starting to run around. I swear his eyes are about to pop out of their sockets.

“It will indeed! This place has been in our family for generations, but since it’s hard to adapt it to modern technology it was abandoned.” He turns to Oak and winks. “Not to mention the creepy things that happen here all the time.”

His gaze widens. “What kind of things?”

“Well, some distant relatives used to try spending their vacations here. But after a couple of days they left in a big rush, claiming some strange force had commanded them to go away.” With a lower voice, he adds. “They also mentioned noises coming out from empty rooms and dark hallways. Steps. Shadows that followed them along the place.”

For a second everyone remains silent. The only noise I can hear is the wind outside and the start of a slight rain. Somehow my hands are even colder.

“The legend says,” The woman, whose name is Marrow if I remember it correctly, continues while taking one chandelier with her hand. “This was the hideout of ancient vampires, how many, we don’t know. But they didn’t appreciate people trying to live within their domains.”

“So why come here at all?” Vivi asks. “Isn’t it dangerous?”

“It might be.” She shrugs. “But that’s half of the fun, isn’t it?”

“We like to think we’ve found a safe way to open this castle to the public without taking any risks. We will use a part of it as a museum, to show some of the family relics. But be aware, no one is allowed to go further than the marked area.” He signals at the yellow tape stuck on the floor forming arrows.

“If you please...” Marrow says, motioning at the stairs where the markings start.

They get me for a moment, not gonna lie. The surroundings and the way they speak are creepy enough to make me doubt my beliefs for a second. I shake my head to clear those thoughts away and walk behind my family. There’s no such thing as vampires or haunted castles.

We go through passages. Madoc has to remind Oak to not touch anything, constantly. From what I see, he’s living his best day. Several counters line up side by side against the wall. Some of them contain jewelry, others weapons, old writing pens among other things. Most of them carry a family shield, although it’s too blurry to properly identify what it says.

The rain thickens outside and Marrow keeps talking. She tells the story of her so called ancestors, whose family were big enough to fill all the rooms in the castle. Elwen, Eldred… something like that, and his many wives had once lived here. Along with his abounding children. I see in Oak’s face the intention to ask about how that family arrangement worked but Vivi gives him a slight pull of his hair.

I would have thought our guides would try to keep a proud name for their so-called ancestors. But they don’t. In fact, she seems particularly interested in explaining how Eldred’s cruel and terrible nature brought him nothing but disgrace. His once prosperous castle and assets were gone little by little. He claimed he was under the effects of a curse, but no one dared believing him. At least not until people started disappearing.

I stop listening at some point, focusing my attention on the relics in front of me. I’ve always felt a significant attraction to weapons, but not the ordinary ones like guns or rifles. These ones though, such beautiful daggers and swords. I’d give a kidney just to hold one of them.

On the next shelf books pile one next to the other, the dust around them a clear sign of how long they’ve been unbothered. All except for one. The navy blue cover has almost no dust at all, yet it looks like it would fall apart with a gentle blow of wind. The title is partially gone, probably through time.

I turn my head to my family but they’re gone, probably to another corridor since I can still hear the muffled voice of Marrow and my brother. Would she care at all if I check out that book?

I bite my lip. As long as it doesn’t break it’s probably alright. Standing on the tip of my toes I reach for it.

“That is an excellent book.”

I shriek and whip around, my hand flies to my mouth trying to cover the embarrassing sound. The book falls open next to my feet.

His lips curve as if he finds my reaction somehow satisfying. “My personal favorite. Too bad the author was a poisonous bunch-backed toad.”

My mouth opens to apologize, but I only manage to let out a strangled. “Shit”

The stranger lifts an eyebrow and chuckles.

“Sorry, I- that wasn’t what I meant to say.” I stutter. I feel as if my heart has jumped to my throat. “I wasn’t trying to steal the book.”

“I did not say you were.” He answers, his voice is like velvet.

I nod and take a deep breath. “I came in with my family. Marrow is showing us the place.”

His dark eyes wander down my body, but not like one of those rude men on the streets. No. Something in his gaze feels feral, like an animal sizing up his prey. A strange urge to run pools in my stomach, yet at the same time my muscles seem to have forgotten how to do so.

He looks me in the eyes again and it’s all gone. I let go of the tension in my back and a breath I didn’t know I was holding. When he smiles again, I feel as if I could trust him. Why shouldn’t I?

“And are you enjoying the tour?” He bends to pick up the book I’d dropped before and puts it back on the shelf. His movements are fluid and carefree. I doubt I’ve ever seen such elegance in a simple action. It is unsettling as much as it is attractive. Then I realize I’m supposed to answer.

“Yes, this is amazing actually.” I look around and take in the aged stone of the walls and ceiling. In that corridor there’s only one electric lamp, the rest is only lightened by candles. I can see our shadows dancing along to the flames. “All of this really helps getting in the ‘mood’.”

“The mood?”

I look at him and notice his tilted head. “Yeah you know, the mood of enchanted castles and old legends. This is well put enough that a credulous person would believe any story. Marrow is pretty good at it too.” Motioning a hand to him I add. “They even have their own actor.”

A thunder roars outside. “I beg your pardon?”

I roll my eyes and flash him a smile. “You don’t really have to keep the charade with me. I’m not some schoolgirl.”

“Yet I managed to pull a scream out of you, didn’t I?” The way he says it feels as if he was talking about an entirely different subject. Heat creeps up my cheeks.

“That was… not the same.” I mumble. “I didn’t hear you approaching. That could scare the living hell out of anybody.”

“I have been told I am quite sneaky, I concede you that.” He nods. “Why don’t I give you the rest of the tour? As an apology, of course.”

He’s doing his job, I remind myself, he’s not flirting with you.

“You haven’t even told me your name.” I say. “If we’re roaming around a castle together I should at least know who’s guiding me.”

That sounded an awful lot like flirting. Dammit.

“Cardan, at your service madam.” The tone he uses feels like a caress, he bows his head in a way I’ve only seen in movies. He takes his role seriously. I almost chuckle, but the sound dies in my throat.

“Cardan.” I repeat, just for the pleasure of doing it. “My name is Jude.”

He straightens. “Delighted to meet your acquaintance.” He answers and offers me his arm. “Shall we, Jude?”

I can’t believe how far away my family has gone. Cardan and I walk through a couple of corridors and still there is no trace of them. Did we take that long talking?

He’s an excellent guide, I have to acknowledge that.

While Marrow uses a tone of suspense and mystery, Cardan has this melancholy in his voice that sounds as if he’s talking about a memory. It’s bewitching. He also drops the most ridiculous “facts” about the people on the paintings. I refrain myself from asking if inventing things is allowed for employees, because saying that the girl with the pearl necklace enjoyed to play on the beach while saying she was the Princess of the Sea, certainly sounds like it.

“If you bite your lip one more time, I am going to do it for you.”

My heart skips a bit and I let go of my lower lip. I hadn’t realized I was tugging it. It’s an unconscious habit. I turn to him and I find his gaze different, hungry. It sends a shiver down to a place I know it shouldn’t. He arches an eyebrow as though he notices it.

“Is that a thing vampires like to do?” I say, trying to lighten the mood. The last thing I want him to know is that for the last twenty minutes I’ve been listening to him speak wishing he put a different use to that wicked mouth of his.

His gaze doesn’t change. “It is a thing I would like to do.”

I am pretty sure my expression is giving me up by now. Knowing my traitorous body, I’m probably flushed, my mouth open in awe. Desire coils inside me.

At my lack of answer, he continues. “Why don’t I show you something vampires really like to do?”

He walks back without letting go of my hand. I notice he steps out from the marked section and into a forbidden corridor.

The sensation returns, the one that is telling me to run. The problem is that I don’t know whether to run away, or straight to it. My mind wants both and my body, only one.

“You’re going to the restricted area.” I’m partially surprised by how breathless my voice sounds. “You can’t go in there…”

Cardan pauses and a confused expression crosses his face. A second later, it returns to his charming and teasing smile. “Are you afraid?”

I am.

Yet, I don’t care. I walk into the shadows with him.

As we cross the passage darkened by the lack of chandeliers I tell myself this is a terrible, terrible idea. The way he devours my mouth the moment a door slams shut behind us, convinces me it is the best.

Cardan pushes me against the wall, the cold temperature of the stone goes through my clothes making me gasp. He takes the opportunity and kisses me harder, his tongue explores my mouth with such deliciousness I have to bite back a moan.

My fingers are tangled in his hair pulling him closer to me, if such a thing is even possible. His hands are everything but still. They roam intensely from my breasts, down my sides and finally to my rear, where he grabs me, pressing me against his pelvis. I hear him groan and the sound makes something clench inside me.

Before I can double-think about it, one of my hands lowers to rub his hardness, still hidden behind his trousers. His breath hitches. He pulls back a bit and whispers to my ear. “Needy little human.”

I frown a moment, something about his words not clicking inside my brain but whatever it is I forget it the moment he slides his cold hands under my jersey. I yelp at the sensation, not sure if what flutters down my back is a result of the temperature or the eagerness which he’s holding me with. When he reaches my bra I hesitate for a moment. Cardan pauses too and leans back to stare into my eyes.

“Do you want to stop?” His voice is throaty and charged with desire. Still, he doesn’t make a move, waiting for my answer.

An instinctive part of me knows this is something I shouldn’t be doing. But that’s definitely not any close to me wanting to stop. Without removing my eyes from his I take the hem of my jersey to pull it over my head. The piece of fabric hits the floor, but neither of us pays attention to it. Once again Cardan’s gaze roams me in that predatory way.

I don’t stagger this time.

When my bra falls to the floor too, I take his hand and guide it to my jean’s button. “Do I look like I want to stop?”

Without hesitation he yanks the button open and slides his hand inside to cup the apex of my thighs. The contrast of my warm skin against his coldness makes my hips buck. Cardan buries his other hand in my hair and tilts my head back. I can feel his lips nipping down my jaw and my neck. A moan escapes my lips as he swipes a finger along my heat. He hums in response, the vibrations of it against my neck makes my eyes roll back.

He continues his ministrations until he feels me wet enough to slide a finger inside, he curls and pulls out. Then back inside. My breath comes out in elaborated pants as he quickens his pace. My hands almost finish unbuttoning his shirt when he slides another finger through my folds, his movements turn fast and punishing. Wet sounds taint the silence around us. As pleasure takes full control of my body I cling to him like a life saver, trying to muffle my moans.

“Let go Jude, let go for me.” He breathes next to my ear. My back arches and I sob a curse, writhing down on his hand.

He slows down as I come back from my orgasm, but never stops. Despite the freezing surroundings a drop of sweat runs down my chest. My heart beats as if I just ran a marathon. Cardan’s lazy moves continue, frequently grazing that spot that makes me mewl.

I hear him sigh. “You smell so good.” He claims my mouth one more time and bites me hard enough to make me wince. His tongue caresses my lower lip and a warm throb expands through my veins. He freezes and pulls back, releasing me. I stare at him in confusion, or at least as much as I can manage giving my current state.

He pants a couple of times before looking up at me. There’s a fiercess in his eyes that would’ve been scary under normal situations, right now, it only makes me want him more. He swallows before finally speaking. “If we go further, I won’t be able to stop.” His voice is like sandpaper.

My body seems to work on its own account, as I move to cup his face between my hands. “I already told you.”

“Jude…” He warns me, but I interrupt him joining my lips to his.

“I want this.” I breathe into his mouth. Cardan lets out a defeated groan before pulling my body back against his. Either he’s been holding back or it is until that moment that I realize how strong he actually is. He kisses me like a starved man and I can feel my pulse rise once again.

Soon his shirt joins my other clothing. My fingers trace his chest and torso, marveled at the softness of his skin. I mimic him moments before and kiss his neck. A low sound that almost resembles a growl comes out from his throat. My hands travel lower.

Somehow I manage to free his raging erection from his trousers, closing my hand around him. He hisses and then tilts his hips up to my touch. I start pumping him with unsure movements before gaining confidence to do it harder, tighter. Now it’s his turn to curse. Even though it sounds like something taken out from a Shakespeare novel, it makes my core pulse.

Cardan grips the hem of my jeans strong enough that for a moment I fear he’d rip them away.

“Take these off.” He demands instead.

I’m not sure of how I manage to do it. My mind feels blurred with a mix of sensations. Disoriented, not sure about exactly how my body is doing all of that, and the bliss of knowing I’m enjoying every second of it.

Before the air hits my skin, Cardan lifts me from the ground. My legs circle his waist in a reflexive move. His lips quirk in approval. Then my back is once again pressed against the wall, making me arch in a failed attempt to avoid touching the cold stone. A sound leaves my mouth, though it is not clear if it’s a protest or a moan. I hear him chuckle in my ear and I turn my head, searching his lips.

His kiss is slower but still deep. I feel as if small electric sparks are tickling every single one of my nerves. More, I need more. Cardan holds me in place with his hips, letting his hands wander up and down my legs.

The tip of his shaft is grazing my core over the thin fabric of my remaining piece of clothing, with an aching slowness that is not enough to ease my thirst. More.

I might have said that out loud because Cardan’s hips grind faster against me. It feels so good. And yet, it’s not enough.

I whine his name like a plea.

He continues for a couple of torturing seconds before reaching between my thighs again. There’s no teasing now as he moves my panties aside and immediately sinks his fingers inside me, pumping in and out with a pace that has me gasping in no time. He murmurs something I can’t understand and lines himself up to my entrance.

With soft, deliberate movements he slides through my heat, letting me feel every inch of him until he’s completely filling me. Then he stills. My muscles twitch around him, trying to adjust to the invasion. The exquisiteness of it is making my head swoon.

Cardan grabs my jaw and locks his gaze with mine. I can imagine what he’s looking at. Hooded eyes and flushed skin, though he doesn’t let me think a lot about it as he starts to move. Slow at first, with careful strokes that quickly evolve into long and deep. My mouth falls open at the sensation and my eyes shut.

“I warned you.” I hear him pant. “That there was no coming back.”

A whimper escapes my lips. I’m not even sure I’m actually trying to say something. He doesn’t seem to care either and leans to whisper to my ear. “You are mine now, Jude.”

There is something in the way he says it, his words carrying some compelling implication I can’t fully catch. His lips trail down my neck and I want to answer. To tell him that I am, that after the way he’s taking me, how could it be otherwise?

That’s when I feel a sharp stinging pain on the base of my throat.

I cry out and try to shake it away but whatever it is won’t let me go. Cardan’s words echo at the back of my mind, Needy little human.

As if sensing my thoughts he grabs my thighs and opens them wider, he thrusts into me harder and faster. Everything mixes in sensation. Pain leaves as fast as it came, leaving behind it that throb in my veins I can’t really explain. It is more intense now, what I felt as warm now is scorching. My entire body feels like it’s on fire, I’ve never felt so exhilarated before in my life. I don’t want it to stop.

Cardan sucks on my neck again and I moan his name. Without realizing it, I’m on the brink of another orgasm. I only realize it because he groans when my legs start to shiver around him. I cling to his neck and his hair. If I’m pulling too hard I can’t really know. A familiar swirl comes up from my core to the rest of my body as I spasm around him. It takes me a moment to notice the broken moans and sobs I hear come from my own mouth.

He keeps going a little longer until his fingers tighten over my skin, surely leaving bruises on both thighs. Muffled moans ring against my skin as he comes, thrusting in a couple of times more before stilling. A warm sensation covers the place where we join together. His mouth lets go of my neck. I grunt and shiver.

He puts me down carefully, still holding my waist, which is good considering I don’t know if I’m able to stand by myself. I feel dizzy. Cardan lowers his lips to mine one more time. He’s slow and gentle as though he’s worried. There is a slightly metallic taste in his tongue but I don’t pay attention to it. I trace the fine features of his face with trembling fingers. Little by little my senses start to take in the surroundings, the cold.

The place rumbles with another crack of thunder.

“You have to go back.” Cardan says, barely pulling his lips apart. Go back. I frown, then images of my family crash in my mind. I look around searching for the door, there is something on the floor. I realize soon those are my clothes. Shit. The tour, Oak. How much time have I been gone?

I dress in a hurry, not really caring if I put on my jersey correctly. He does the same but with the calm an elegance he has.

Panic must be written in my face because he grabs my chin and turns me to him. “Hey. Calm down.” He soothes me. Then his tone changes, turns commanding. His eyes are darker too. “Listen to me. You are going to do exactly as I say, do you understand Jude?”

I want to ask why, but for some reason I only nod. Cardan grabs my hand and pulls me out of whatever room we were in. “You must follow this passage until you find a way to turn left. Then continue until you see a painting of a black snake then turn right, you cannot miss it or you will get lost. Walk straight, and you will be back to a safe area.”

“But-” I start. I don’t want to go alone. And I don’t understand why but I don’t want to separate from him either. Which is nonsense, I barely know him and still...

He interrupts me. “I cannot go with you, I have lost so much control already and I don’t think…”

“Cardan, I can’t-”

A growl echoes in his chest and he pulls me closer to him. While his voice is still hypnotizing it sounds threatening now. “You will not tell anybody about what you saw here. Now go if you intend to leave this place alive.”

Then he's gone. I can’t recall if I blinked or turned, because a moment before I could still touch him and now he vanished.

I take a deep breath and start walking. Focus. Go straight, then turn right. Or was it left?

All passages look the same, some spaces don’t even have a painting or anything at all to help me differentiate them. Sometimes I whip around, thinking I heard a familiar chuckle behind me. Distant rain is the only sound that is a constant companion, but even with it I’m able to hear an echo of every step I give. It unsettles me more with every minute that passes. Although I feel more in control of my body than before, my knees falter constantly and a sensation of tiredness slides over my mind.

I find the snake painting just as I’d started to think I would be trapped here forever.

It’s huge, and despite the years that have probably passed the scales still seem to shine. The head is painted in an angle that gives the illusion of the eyes following the person looking at it. It doesn’t help that the candle’s flames also make the snake look as if it’s moving. Stalking. Before noticing, I start hyperventilating. I shut my eyes close and turn away. Something is terribly wrong with me, I need to get out.

Turning right, I start running. I cover my ears fearing that if I don’t, I’ll start hearing the snake’s hiss behind me.

I cross an arch made with the same stone and stop right in my tracks upon realizing somehow I’m back at the room where we first arrived. I blink to adjust my eyes to the change of light, since here’s where all the electric lamps are. The room is empty though.

I’m not sure of what I am supposed to do now. Sit and wait? Go out to the car?

While I’m weighing my options, trying to choose any that doesn’t imply dropping myself on the floor to have a panic attack, I hear murmurs and steps getting closer.

“Jude!” My little brother yells and runs to me. Behind him, Vivi scans me like she’s trying to find something wrong. I straighten my back and put on my best calmed face.

“Where were you?” She demands. “We lost you hours ago! Are you ok? You look pale.”

Always such a mother hen, I sigh. “I’m fine. I fell behind and lost y’all. Then... I guessed it would be better to just… return here.”

I try not to frown at my last words, since I didn’t fully intend to say them. You will not tell anybody about what you saw here.

“Jude knows how to take care of herself.” My father adds. I could hug him, but we’re not exactly the affectionate type. So I just flash him a smile.

Vivi does not look convinced but still stands down. “I guess so. The weather did a mess with your hair though.” A flash of Cardan’s fingers pulling from it to gain access to my neck sends a shiver through my body. Had that really happened just minutes before?

Before I can answer, Marrow calls for us. We turn to find her standing next to a big set of paintings that apparently were covered with a curtain. “You cannot leave without meeting the royal family.”

The canvases are ordered to mimic a family tree. A man with a severe expression rests at the very top. Eldred, I assume. Just by looking at it I feel judged. I can’t imagine what was like to actually live with him. The pictures of his wives look all so different but under them, their sons do have resemblance to one another. A weird sensation tickles my fingers as my gaze continues travelling over the paintings. Finally, I get to the last one. Once more, I cover my mouth to avoid an undesired sound.

Staring back at me I see Cardan.

I don’t care if it’s a painting, there is no way I could not recognize those features. Those lips.

“A big family, I see.” Madoc’s words seem so far away.

Marrow hums in agreement. “The Greenbriars always felt proud of their vast offspring. Such attractive sons and daughters. It’s a shame the curse took most of their lives all those centuries ago.”

“Did he…” I start, without knowing how to continue.

She approaches me to look at the canvas. “Ah, young master Cardan. He was the last one of Eldred’s children.” Then a frown appears on her face. “There was a lot of controversy regarding his death. Some say he died because of the curse, some others say he was the curse. The books all have different versions.”

“That sounds creepy as fuck.” Vivi says.

“Creepy as fuck.” My brother mimics her, the thoughtful expression on his face makes him look ridiculous. We cackle as Vivi shouts Oak he’s not supposed to say bad words.

By the time we get out of the castle the rain has decreased to a drizzle.

Madoc carries Oak on his shoulders, listening to his non-stop squeals of excitement after visiting what he calls ‘a real vampire hideout’. This time, I don’t find the words to contradict him. Vivi is the first one to get to the car, shouting back some nonsense about the Greenbriars needing a protection hex.

The moment I step down from the bridge something shifts in my head and I feel as if I had just woken up.

Perhaps it is me who needs a protection spell after all.

Before closing the car’s door, I turn to the castle one more time. Marrow and her husband wave at us from the front gate.

A dull ache throbs on the base of my neck and my hand flies to the spot. I retrieve it and see blood staining my fingers.

My heart misses a beat when I lift my gaze to the upper windows, where a tall figure with white shirt and dark hair is looking right back.

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badbhye · 5 years

Text

ALLURE (m)

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: vampire au, smut

summary: A night with one of your regulars takes a different turn.

warning: explicit sexual content, prostitution, female receiving, multiple orgasms, unprotected penetration (stay safe y’all), orgasm denial, overstimulation, mild bloodplay, dom/sub-themes... but like corny romantic

word count: 5.3k

A/N: this wasn’t something I had planned but I really wanted to post something to get into the habit of writing after my hiatus! and it ended up taking me forever to write lmao

The air is different — heavy. It's a feeling you're beginning to get familiar with, almost welcoming it. The hair on your neck stands up, and you almost relish in the goosebumps that rise across your skin.

He's here.

You don't know how you can always tell, maybe it's the way he commands the air around him, maybe his presence alone is just so alluring that you just know. Maybe it's just him. You're never told when he's visiting but there are always tell-tale signs of his arrival. The rooms are shrouded in darkness, nothing but the pale moonlight seeps in from the windows. It's cold without the warm glow of scattered candles, but you're not permitted to question it. It's quiet as you make your way up the stone steps, which is quite unusual for your line of work. There's always a sense of liveliness in your surroundings while you work. But tonight, it doesn't hone the same energy, there is no overwhelming scent of perfume lingering in every crevice, no muffled voices seeping through the cracks of the door. It's just you.

You can feel your heartbeat in your throat, breathing accelerated but it isn't out of fear like it had been the first couple of times. It's a feeling of excitement that courses through your veins at the prospect of being reunited with him. Standing on the last step, you school your features. It is unwise to show anything other than complacency in your line of work after all. Taking a deep breath, you wait until you're called. You know that he's aware of your presence, that you don't need to make yourself known to him. He's known since the moment you've stepped inside the building.

"Enter."

It's faint to your ears but you bristle at his voice. Limbs moving almost automatically at his command as you push open the door. It's so silent that the creaking of the door seems deafening to your ears. But that doesn't matter when you spot him lounging on the bed. He doesn't look your way, you'd think he hasn't even acknowledged your presence if it wasn't him who had granted you permission to come in. As you move forward, you frown. He looks different. Taking a deep breath, you fight the urge to pull at the corset that restricts your chest. Your eyes go back to his face, admiring his features, but he remains still, gazing into nothing. You're aware that he's not like anyone you've ever encountered before and even with your multiple meetings, you've never gotten rid of this ounce of intimidation that he holds over you. It's so different for someone else to have this sense of power over you, especially in your work environment. It's not like he's ever used the asset, but the prospect that he could sends a thrilling jolt down your spine.

You don't dare speak a word to him as you make yourself sit at the edge of the bed but are at a loss when you get a better look at his face. He looks lifeless and that's saying something considering he is one of the living dead after all. His eyes that used to hold such a mischievous twinkle lay grey and glassed over. You've heard of encounters with his kind before, they were brief, a little exaggerated but enough for you to have your own preconceived notions. But he wasn't like anything you had ever heard, he was gentle, charming, trustworthy. He was alive. So, seeing him like this, fair to speak, alarms you a bit. Gingerly, you move closer to him, hand slowly cupping his cheek. You're met with an immediate response when he exhales, eyes closing as he lightly nuzzles his cheek into your palm. There's relief on his features as soon as he feels your touch, chest deflating like he hadn't taken a single breath until this very moment.

"I've missed you," he mumbles mostly to himself but it's like your senses are working on overdrive and you're hyper-aware of everything around you. He moves closer and you hold your breath, bracing yourself but all he does is lightly shift your silk robe until it falls off your shoulder, leaving you only in your corset and panties.

You flush until his scrutinizing gaze, something that only happens in his presence. You'd overcome the nervousness and shyness many years ago considering that you showed off your body for a living. The constant praise you received made you realize that you were indeed beautiful enough that men and occasionally women would pay to worship you for a night.

You shudder when you feel his cold fingers work on the ribbon to undo your corset, it easily falls open, your breasts bursting out at the lack of confinement. He hums in satisfaction, eyes glazing down your figure. You want to squeeze your thighs together for some relief already, but you know better than that, so you patiently wait even though the silk of your panties is practically sticking to you now.

He moves back, leaning against the headboard. "Come here," he beckons, eyes tracing the curves of your body until he reaches your center. "Get yourself comfortable on my lap."

You don't hesitate to comply, your body aching for any sort of friction. You let out a small whimper as soon as you can feel him between your legs but you control your movements, careful not to start rubbing just yet. He shifts his hips that your core feels every inch of his cock and you all but fall over at the shock you get on your clit.

"M-master," you mewl your first words to him, voice breathy.

"Taehyung," he says, watching you try so hard to stay still and obedient. You don't respond, just open your eyes and look at him in confusion, eyelids still heavy at the close proximity between you two. He hums, enjoying the feel of your body on his own, a hand trailing down your side, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. "Call me by my name, love."

You shudder at his touch on your lower back, at the patterns he's leaving on your skin as your eyes flutter to meet his own.

"T-Taehyung," you moan out softly.

At that, you feel his cock twitch beneath you.

"Why don't you get me ready to take you," he suggests, hands moving to start guiding your hips. You immediately start rubbing your clothed pussy up and down his length. At every movement, you feel it getting harder, thicker, making you clench around nothing in anticipation. You close your eyes, trying to forget about the barriers between the two of you as you drag your clit against his pelvis. Your silken panties were almost forgotten when you eventually lose yourself in the feeling. You're so close to release you can taste it. Your whines increase in volumes, stuttering and breathy when pleasure jolts through your veins. You can feel Taehyung's hot breath on your neck, making your thighs twitch as you grind down even harder than before.

"Taehyung," you breath out. "I'm gonna-" It's difficult to let out coherent words when the pleasure you're feeling is amplified. It's not surprising now, but you never fail to be shocked at the sheer pleasure you feel whenever you're with him. It's like you're reduced to your virgin self, experiencing the wonders of a cock for the very first time.

"Let go, love," Taehyung says, guiding your hips to move faster. "lose yourself on my cock."

Those are the only words you need to hear and soon enough, you're tensing as the head of his dick is pressed against your nerves sending shock waves up your spine and wave after wave of pleasure seeps through your veins. Your head falls back as you let out a long drawn out moan, baring your neck to him. You almost want him to bite you, to sample your taste, to make you his. But you know it's futile to want these things, you're nothing but a simple whore after all.

You're so lost in the feeling of your orgasm that your eyes only flutter open when your head hits the plush mattress.

“You’ve made such a mess,” Taehyung smiles. “You’ve dripped all over me.”

You follow his movements, peering down at the evident wet stain on his dress pants. After your sight finally focuses, your cheeks heat up, not used to coming undone so quickly into the night.

"Master," you speak when you manage to compose yourself a little. "Let me take care of you now."

"There is no need to, my love," Taehyung replies as he settles himself between your legs. "I am already being taken care of." You clamp your mouth shut when you see the stark red colour of his pupils, swirls of crimson plaguing the golden hue of his iris. His hands trail your skin, slowly descending down your breasts, the coolness of his skin making your nipples stand tall as shivers wrack down your body. His pace is agonizingly slow and you have to hold your tongue in fear of you demanding him to just fuck you already. You knew your place. When his icy touch reaches your panties, he pauses, eyes finally meeting your own. "May I?"

You quickly nod, knowing your voice would betray you when you're under his stare. He chuckles at your enthusiasm and slowly begins to slide down your underwear. He takes his sweet time, enjoying the way the silk sticks to the wetness of your pussy as he pulls the sodden pair down your thighs. Your folds glimmer in the moonlight, thighs shining as the light catches your skin. Your wetness sparkling like stars and Taehyung swears he can see your entire body glittering in the same way - like you are all the stars in the sky combined. Once he's pulled the underwear completely off your legs, he can't help but bring the ruined pair to his nose and inhale deeply. He groans loudly at the scent that's left on the silk. "You smell divine." He doesn't hesitate to tongue the center that's been drenched with your release, his cock twitching once more when your taste floods his senses.

You squirm beneath him, watching him put your ruined panties in his mouth. It's torture to see him ravage them when your pussy is on display for him. "Why are you tasting scraps when the main course is right here?" you ask, suddenly feeling bold. You know you would be scolded for this if Madame ever found out but you really can't help yourself when you see the way his lips suck everything they can from the ruined material while leaving your quivering hole neglected and painfully empty. You swear you see him lose his composure when his sharp eyes peer down as you spread your legs even more for his viewing pleasure. He stutters, your panties still caught between his teeth, breath hitching in his throat when he spots a fresh trail of wetness slide down your folds.

"I don't like to waste my food," he coolly responds, grabbing you by the thighs to further make room for himself. "Especially when it's this delectable."

He's quick to have his head between your legs, leaving open mouth kisses up your thighs. You can feel the way his fangs occasionally press down, biting the flesh but never breaking the skin. As he gets closer to your center, he begins to suck on the supple flesh of your thighs, leaving marks in his wake. The feeling making you let out weak whimpers, growing increasingly desperate for the same attention where it matters.

"M-master," you gasp, eyes tearing up. "Please!"

"What do you desire, my love?" he asks, peering up at you from between your legs. He's so close to where you need him most, you can feel his breath fanning your wetness. That sensation alone makes you want to squirm but the hold Taehyung has on your thighs is so strong that you stay rooted in place.

"Hmm?" You see him raise an eyebrow at your silence, tongue peeking out to lick his lips at the strong scent of your arousal invading his senses.

"I want you to ravish me," you let out, barely a whisper but you know he's heard you because his lips form an easy smile at your words, delighted by your words.

"Anything for you, my love."

He doesn't tease you any further, licking a straight stripe up to your clit almost immediately. The sensation has you vibrating as you can't help but cry out at his tongue's assault. You're still so sensitive from your first orgasm so every touch, nip, and taste is more potent. But you're certain that your initial orgasm has little to do with it and more to the fact that it's Taehyung that's feasting on you like you're his only life source.

"Taehyung," you moan wantonly, hands reaching to grab at his hair and push him deeper into your core when you feel him nipping at your clit. "Please!" you cry out, not sure what you're begging for at this point.

He doesn't stop sucking when he plunges a long finger inside, you groan as your back arches off the mattress at the intrusion. He's quick to add another finger to the mix, scissoring them slowly as he tongues at your nerves, sending jolts of pleasure down your legs. You can't control yourself as your hips begin to move on their own accord, trying to get as much of his fingers stuffed inside of you.

"My love is so impatient," Taehyung tuts, slowing down his movements but his fingers stay knuckle deep inside of you.

You whimper when he starts to pull his fingers apart, the stretch burning. "I'm sorry, master," you let out. "I'll be a good girl for you."

"Can my good girl take one more finger?" he asks, smiling sweetly, a fang peeking out and you're shell-shocked when you realise that this boyishly charming man has had you tied up, bound and gagged in this very room before. You break out of your reverie quickly and nod enthusiastically, aching to get anything he'll offer you.

"My greedy girl," Taehyung teases, but you can see how pleased he really is when he adds another finger so agonizingly slow that you shiver. You're breathing is labored again when he slides in and out of you, blushing when you can hear all of it so clearly even though you've long forgotten the feeling of embarrassment regarding anything sexual. But right now, in his presence, you feel so out of your general character. You're so eager to please, not because of the money you'll be greeted with at the bedside tomorrow morning, but to be rewarded with your master's satisfaction. You want to please him, want to be the reason he comes undone.

"I'm close," you stutter out, groaning when his fingers glide across your g-spot, reaching in so deep. He goes down to suck on your clit, his fingers not ceasing their movements and you all but scream, tears flowing freely down your cheeks as you rock your hips, eager to find your release. It's so close you can taste it, your eyes roll in the back of your head, your body shivering at the prospect of reaching an orgasm so strong. Taehyung's teeth nip at your sensitive flesh, immediately soothing it with your tongue and he groans when he feels you get wetter than before. You're wailing at this point, hurdling to your release at full speed, and right when you can almost feel it at the tip of your fingers, Taehyung lets go of you but not before he slurps up the nectar leaking out of your pussy.

You unabashedly sob out loud at the loss of contact, feeling extremely sensitive but also very unfulfilled. Your breath hitches as you hiccup, hips grinding onto nothing as you ache to find any sort of friction to aid to your release. You groan when his icy touch ceases your movements, fingers digging into your hip. "Ah-ah," Taehyung tuts. "You need to pace yourself, sweetheart, that was just an appetizer."

You try hard to stop your sniffles but you feel so pathetic at that moment, like a child being robbed of their candy and you can't help but throw a tiny tantrum in reaction.

"I was so close," you sob. "Please, please master, let me come, I need to come."

All the years of experience you've had has now completely vanished, you're nothing but greedy and desperate, reduced to nothing but a crying, sobbing mess as you beg for relief.

"All in due time, my love," Taehyung says as he sits you up, sitting you down in his lap once more. He immediately pulls you down to a deep to kiss your tears away, wiping at your wet cheeks making you stiffen for a split second. There’s a different sense of gentleness he embodies unlike your prior meetings with him. When he reaches to give you a deep kiss on your lips, you eagerly begin to return the gesture, the lingering taste of you in his mouth making you moan into the kiss, you start to grind your hips against his once more but he's quick to stop you. "What did I say?"

You stare back at him with wide eyes but notice that he's still staring at you with the same adoration as before. Getting shy, you shift your gaze. "To be patient," you mumble softly. Usually, by this time, he'd have you tied to the bedpost, balls deep in you but now, he's so calm and gentle. There’s a softness to him that you’re not quite familiar with but greatly enjoy.

"Good girl," he smiles, giving you a peck on your lips and it takes all your strength not to chase after his lips.

It's laughable how utterly wrecked you are right now. You love sex and have quite the stamina during your time in these rooms but something about Taehyung has you writhing like you're completely wrapped around his finger. You're certain that his kind also acts as some sort of aphrodisiac, the power to have someone at their mercy but you know that Taehyung would not hold this power over you, regardless of being a vampire.

"Are you ready for the main course?" he asks teasingly, gently laying you down on your back.

You nod quickly, the ache between your legs never fully ebbed away and the prospect of him finally fucking you had you clenching once again.

"I want to hear it," he chuckles though he does reach down to slip out of his pants, cock finally springing free.

Your eyes immediately fall down to where his length stands proud, a mouth-watering sight. "Yes please," you speak up, eyes not leaving his dick. "Please fill me up with your cock."

He groans at your words. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he smiles, hovering over you and you immediately reach out to feel the silk of his robe. You take this time to admire his features, he looks so ethereal like this. He's truly the most beautiful creature you've ever laid eyes on and the way he carries himself, radiating absolute divinity. It's breathtaking. And when he's smiling at you the way he is now, it's so easy to forget your reality, like you truly are his lover and he yours. It's so easy to get lost in this fantasy, to crave this intimacy, forgetting that you'll probably be in this room tomorrow, but with someone else.

You're brought back to reality when you feel Taehyung's dick prodding your folds and on contact, you're mewling, your pussy desperate to engulf his length. Rather than shoving his entire length in one go, he slowly prods around your entrance adding little to no pressure, ultimately making his dick slide up and down your slit. Every time his head taps your clit, your hips jump as if you’ve been shocked but you bite your tongue and stop yourself from crying out in hopes of appearing patient - and reaching your orgasm before he’s as much as entered you. But you’re sure Taehyung can smell the saline aroma of the air as tears gather around your eyelashes once more. One more push forward and he’s leaning closer to you, kissing your eyes gently as he slowly inched his way inside.

Even though you're painfully wet, you still have to hold your breath until he's fully seated inside of you, to get yourself used to the feeling, no matter how many times you've done this before and because you want to savor the sensation. Taehyung's probably the most magnificent cock you've had lodged in you in all your years of experience.

You hiss when he’s fully settled inside you, hips rotating slightly. Taehyung can’t help but watch your expression, mesmerized by the way your eyes screwed shut, your lashes wet with unshed tears, mouth open as a silent moan escapes you. He’s enthralled by how much beauty can be encased in one person. It’s a thought that’s been plaguing his mind ever since he first laid eyes on you. At first, he believed it was his blood lust that drove him to you, but after the nights he’s spent with you, he’s never truly satisfied. Not even after having you in ways that indulge his baser needs to control, to overpower. And now, when he’s here with you, watching you come undone at his touch, he feels such thrill, like he’s alive again. His patience is wearing thin, the instinctual need to make you submit is strong, but he pushes it aside, knowing it’s useless. He’s so busy following each movement of your body, your face, that it’s when you weakly pant out a Taehyung please that he’s brought out of his reverie.

“Please stop teasing me,” you whimper but don’t urge him to move, instead opting to grip at his arm with weak desperation.

“Anything for you, my love,” he murmurs, quickening his pace. Your cries increase in volume at his faster pace, your grip also tightens on his arm, clinging onto his robe.

“F-fuck,” you cry out helplessly. “Taehyung it feels so good!”

“Tell me, love,” Taehyung grunts, his lips ghosting on the shell of your ear. “How long has it been since you’ve felt like this?” he whispers. “Been fucked like this?”

It’s guttural, the way his words leave him as if the idea of you being with anyone else is appalling. He nips at your ear when you fail to give him an answer, sending shivers down your spine. When you open your mouth to answer, all that comes out are broken pants.

“Answer me,” Taehyung demands, hand cupping your cheeks to make you face him.

“N-never,” you cry out. “Only you make me f-feel this way,” you manage, voice breaking.

“Hmm,” Taehyung hums, pleased. “It’s shameful that you have to give yourself to those dogs when they can’t even treat you right,” he slams into you. “Make you writhe like this,” he twists his hip, making you gasp. “Have you come undone like this.”

“Tae-hyung,” you hiccup. “I can’t hold on—”

“Not yet,” he says, pulling out only until his head is nestled inside you. “You come when I say you come,” he grits, slamming his length back in until he’s filled you to the hilt.

“Can you do that, love?” he asks, pressing harder into your warmth. “Can you hold on?” he teases, running his thumb over your incredibly sensitive clit.

You gasp when his thumb presses harder onto your sensitive bud, biting your lips to hold try and control the sheer amount of pleasure hurdling you towards your release.

“It’s t-too much,” you stutter. “Please, I can’t.”

“You will,” he replies easily, teeth grazing your neck and the feeling brings pinpricks of fear rise against your skin, sending a new wave of arousal course through you. Taehyung’s never fed from you, its something that Madame is strictly against. It’s still a shock that she allowed a vampire through the door as it is, but feeding is something she would not excuse. It’s surprising that regardless of the rule, Taehyung has never tried to breach it. Even though he’s expressed his interest in such lewd, almost sadistic acts, he’s never once even mentioned his desire to feast on you. He’s never as much as paid attention to your neck before. Another nip to your skin has you shuddering, it’s taking all self-control not to fall apart beneath him like this, and you’re sure he can sense it too. With another sharp twist of his hips, you ultimately lose control as hot waves of pleasure jolt through you, igniting every cell in its wake. You’re crying out, a string of incoherent words stumble out of your mouth as your thighs twitch at the shocks of your release. Taehyung hisses at the sudden clenching of your walls but doesn’t relent on his almost bruising pace as he helps you ride out your orgasm.

When your breathing slows down and your vision comes back into focus, you whine at the oversensitivity. “Tae, please,” you let out. “It hurts.”

“Hmm, does it?” Taehyung asks, chuckling but does not slow down his pace. “What did I tell you?” he punctuates his question with a sharp thrust, making you gasp.

“T-to be p-patient.”

“And,” he says, voice a little strained. “Were you?”

“N-no,” you groan, finding purchase on the sleeves of his robe.

“No, princess,” he grunts out, fingers reaching to brush over your clit once more. “You weren’t.”

You immediately jump at the added jolt of pleasure that follows his movements, you feel yourself unraveling once again, involuntarily clenching around his cock. His hips stutter at your tightening. “God, you have no idea what you do to me,” he grits through clenched teeth. He grips your leg and hikes it even further up, making him nestle even deeper inside you. You’re all but wailing at that point, blubbering at the sheer strength of his thrusts.

“M-master!” you scream. “F-feels so, so, good,” you cry out, your vision going in and out of focussing from the pleasure. You keep your eyes on him, noticing how his brows furrow in concentration, the way his pupils are now a deep shade of ruby, not a drop of gold in the iris. His fangs have also elongated, peeking out as he bites down on his lips. He lets out grunts every time he pushes into you, moaning out your name, you notice how his lips find purchase near your neck before he pulls out again. His thrusts become a little less calculated as he begins to lose control, so lost in the feeling of you.

“Taehyung,” you call, voice weak and rough. It’s when you manage to rest your hand on his cheek that he pauses briefly. He doesn’t say anything, just looks at you in question.

“I-” you begin, struggling to get your words out under his scrutinizing gaze. “I want you to do it,” you let out, shifting so your neck is bared to him. “Please,” you add when you notice hesitation cross his eyes.

"I trust you."

The internal dilemma he's facing is short-lived when he pulls you into a heated kiss, beginning to lightly thrust into you again. You whimper against his lips but fervently kiss into his mouth, hands reaching to tug his hair. When you pull away for air, he kisses down your jaw, sucking lightly when he reaches your neck. Teasingly nipping the flesh but not breaking the skin. He picks up speed once more, hitting you as deep as he can, making you writhe once more. You groan, eyes rolling in the back of your head once he begins to roll your clit between his fingers. You're whining into his ear, holding on for dear life as he bites and licks at the juncture of your neck. The grunts that escape him are anything but human at this point, spiking fear and excitement in your veins which only begins to rile him up even more.

"Taehyung," you sob. "Fu-uck, I'm coming, I'm coming," you blindly chant which only makes him pick up the pace, assaulting your clit even faster.

It's when you feel his teeth finally break skin makes you still as stinging pain spreads down your arm, immobilizing you but soon enough, it morphs into something different. You find yourself chasing the pain, angling your head so Taehyung has even more room to plunge his teeth in your veins, he moans in return, the taste of you driving him insane. Soon enough, the tightening of the coil in your belly finally snaps and you feel yourself hurdle to the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced. His thrusts pound into you at an inhumane pace but you can't feel anything anymore, too lost in the utter euphoria, veins vibrating in bliss. Taehyung groans, teeth still latched onto the juncture of your neck as his hips dig into you, halting when his seed spills into you. You flinch when he finally removes his teeth, opting to gather the blood trickling out of the puncture wound. You relish in his tender kisses, feeling light-headed from the blood loss. When he pulls away to look at you, you give him a lazy, half-lidded smile.

He pulls out of you slowly, making sure you feel no discomfort before laying you back down.

"Are you okay, my love?" he timidly asks. "I wasn't too rough was I?"

You shake your head stiffly. "You were perfect," you study his features. His face, now, looking more lively. The maroon of his eyes replaced with stark gold that shimmered in the pale moonlight. Your eyes fall to his lips, stained red from your blood and without thinking, you pull him into an open-mouthed kiss, the metallic taste invading your senses. The kiss is slow and lazy, unlike the tryst the two of you had mere moments ago. He chuckles when you try to roll him over, easily heeds your movements and rests your head on his chest.

You sigh into his chest, his cool skin easing your overheated body.

"Love?" Taehyung asks after a few moments of silence go by. You peer up in curiously, silently beckoning him to continue.

"Thank you," he says, voice small. "For before."

He doesn't need to explain himself for you to understand what he’s referring to. You nestle into his chest once more, sighing deeply until you're comfortable. "You don't need to thank me," you respond, mumbling into his skin but you know he can hear you just fine. "...I liked it," you meekly say, shying away in the comfort of his chest even more. You feel his chest move as he laughs lightly, pecking the top of your head before pulling you even closer into his embrace.

"How did I find someone so perfect," he mumbles low enough so you can't hear him.

You're so sluggish after the night's events that you don't even question that Taehyung has spent the entire night in your arms. It's not common for clients to stay after you're done with a job. Taehyung usually stayed to make sure you were okay because you'd usually be ready to sleep for the next twelve hours but he never stayed for this long. That's why you're genuinely surprised to find him gently waking you up.

"My love," he whispers when you sleepily groan. "As much as I want to spend all my time with you, I must leave before daybreak."

You whine a little, blearily blinking up at him, still exhausted from before. Even though you'd much rather stay tangled in his arms, you shift so you're not laying on top his chest anymore.

"When will I see you next?" you ask after he quickly stands up.

He leans close to brush the hair out of your face, leaving a gentle kiss on your lips before he smiles. "I'll be back before you know it."

You nod a little, slowly closing your eyes, and when you open them, he's gone.

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oranolio16 · 4 years

Text

You knock quickly on Comte’s office door before barging in. Arthur grins at you before pointing at Theo and Vincent in the corner of the office. “I took the liberty of inviting them luv, thought they’d want to see your amazing thing.” He looks at the group you pulled in behind you, “ Ahh you got the rest too.”

You nod quickly, thankful that Comte’s office is actually quite spacious.

“Okay guys, sit down.”

They do, looking at you expectantly.

“This thing here is called a Smartphone. People in the future use it all the time.”

You wave the sleek black rectangle at them. You point to Isaac, whose on the edge of his seat, “Ask me any question, I’ll try to answer it.”

“What’s it for?”

“In the future, there’s this thing called the internet. It’s like a huge, free library. Or an alternate world. There’s everything in it, from Music to Art to Scientific stuff. You literally search it up, I mean type in the name of the thing your looking for and you’ll find it instantly. You can even date on the internet.” You grin at that, catching Arthur’s eyes.

The Men look shocked and interested.

“It’s completely free?” Leo asks curiously.

“Yup, you only need a smartphone. Mines made by a company called Apple. It’s an IPhone.”

Dazai elbows Isaac, “Looks like your descendants made the company. Apple though?”

“ANYWAYS,” you break in when it looks like Arthur will join Dazai, “I wanted to teach you the culture of the future. People in the future find Vampires very sexy. In fact, Vampires have stories dedicated to them. Very popular stories.”

“WHAT?” Jean looks Shocked and horrified. “Do people know we are undead, bloodsucking monsters?”

You nod sagely, “It turns people on in the future. Ladies would pay to get bitten by a vampire.”

Jean makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat. Arthur looks entirely too happy, “The future sounds amazing! Can I go through the door?” He gives Comte a pleading glance.

“No. Never. You, in the future? Unsupervised? It’s a disaster waiting to happen!” Comte looks horrified while Dazai laughs and high fives Arthur. Isaac and Mozart join Jean in looking disturbed.

“So, I’ve decided to read you all one of the greatest works of literary fiction. You’ll enjoy this Jean.” You swear Jean shudders at your grin. Sebastian looks as amused as you do, whipping out a notebook and Pen.

“This story is called Twilight. It is a riveting tale about a teenaged girl who moves back to her home town named Forks. She meets a Vampire who has the ability to read people’s thoughts. They meet at school. They fall in love in the most dramatic way but the vampire, Edward, doesn’t want to bite her. She wants him to bite her. He thinks he’ll hurt her and leaves, she’s heart broken but he comes back. Any questions?”

You glance at Jean who’s muttering prayers under his breath, looking shocked. “Well, that guy has no class. Who woos a lady by leaving her?” Arthur demands, looking disgusted. “He wants to keep her safe, that’s why. Or were you not listening you fool?” Theo snaps back. “I think that’s incredibly romantic!” Vincent offers, “To have the strength to leave your love to keep her safe is chivalrous.” Napoleon nods in agreement with Vincent.

“But the ability to hear thoughts? He’s powerful, is he a pureblood?” Comte asks you. “He’s not alive but no, he was turned by his adoptive Dad called Carlisle. He also has four other Siblings, Alice, Rosalie, Emmet and Jasper.” Comte smiles at that, “How nice.”

“So, let me continue.” You open the file on the screen and clear your throat. “My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite shirt — sleeveless, white eyelet lace; I was wearing it as a farewell gesture. My carry-on item was a parka.

In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small town named Forks exists under a near-constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the United States of America. It was from this town and its gloomy, omnipresent shade that my mother escaped with me when I was only a few months old. It was in this town that I'd been compelled to spend a month every summer until I was fourteen. That was the year I finally put my foot down; these past three summers, my dad, Charlie, vacationed with me in California for two weeks instead. It was to Forks that I now exiled myself— an action that I took with great horror. I detested Forks.”

“How stupid. Why would she go then?” Mozart criticised.

“Maybe she wants to be with her Father?” Vincent suggested.

“But he comes to her. There’s no point.” It seemed as if Mozart had developed a disliking for Bella before she’d even done the really stupid stuff.

Isaac looks at you and asks, “What’s an Airport?”

“It’s where they store Airplanes and people go to travel on them. Think of Airplanes as flying carriages that can go over everything, sea and mountains. They’re shaped like giant birds and carry people over long distances.”

“Oh.” He looks dissatisfied.

“I’ll show you pictures later.” He perks up at that.

You glance again at Jean, who looks nearly catatonic. “Flying carriages? Mon Dieu, what’s that? Sorcery?” You can’t help the wheezing laugh that escapes.

“It’s engineering Jean, not Sorcery. Promise.” He looks at you dubiously, obviously unconvinced.

“Listen, do you really think the Pope would condone people flying in carriages animated by sorcery?” Jean frowns as he focuses, then asks you, “ Have you flown in them?”

“Yes. Hundreds of times. They’re perfectly safe. Well, not perfectly, but adequately I suppose.”

“They do crash often don’t they, though? Your always at risk, aren’t you?” Arthur comments slyly, watching Jean pale dramatically at the thought of you falling out of the air in a magic-powered carriage. “Plenty of people die in them-“

“Arthur, No. Stop scaring Jean. Jean, I promise I’ve never been in a plane crash and hopefully I never will.” Jean still looks unconvinced, but he nods.

“Right. Any more questions?” No one asks, so you continue. “I loved Phoenix. I loved the sun and the blistering heat. I loved the vigorous, sprawling city.

"Bella," my mom said to me — the last of a thousand times — before I got on the plane. "You don't have to do this."”

Mozart looks highly irritated and turns to Vincent, “See? She doesn’t have to go. Her mother doesn’t want her to do this. Honestly, she’s being unnecessarily dramatic.”

Vincent looks confused, but sympathetic. “Maybe her mother’s only saying it to reassure her? Maybe she actually would appreciate her daughter giving her time on her own?” Mozart gives him a sceptical look.

Theo just gives the book a look of disgust, “She’s Vervelend. Does this get better, or is future literature so... terrible?”

“Guys, it does get better. I think. Just sit through this and I’ll show you anything you want, promise.”

Dazai gives you an approving nod, “Bribery. I like it.”

You roll your eyes at him and look back at the story, “My mom looks like me, except with short hair and laugh lines. I felt a spasm of panic as I stared at her wide, childlike eyes. How could I leave my loving, erratic, harebrained mother to fend for herself? Of course she had Phil now, so the bills would probably get paid, there would be food in the refrigerator, gas in her car, and someone to call when she got lost, but still…”

“That’s an irresponsible mother. Is she raising the child or the child raising her?” Napoleon mutters to Isaac, “I don’t blame the daughter for trying to get away.”

Isaac nods, “But what if it isn’t her fault? I mean, it could be a medical condition.”

“I want to go," I lied. I'd always been a bad liar, but I'd been saying this lie so frequently lately that it sounded almost convincing now.

"Tell Charlie I said hi."

"I will."

"I'll see you soon," she insisted. "You can come home whenever you want — I'll come right back as soon as you need me." But I could see the sacrifice in her eyes behind the promise.”

“See? That’s actually very sweet of her.” Vincent tells Mozart.

“We’ll see.” Mozart replies cryptically.

"Don't worry about me," I urged. "It'll be great. I love you, Mom." She hugged me tightly for a minute, and then I got on the plane, and she was gone. It's a four-hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles, and then an hour drive back down to Forks. Flying doesn't bother me; the hour in the car with Charlie, though, I was a little worried about.”

Comte looks uncomfortable at the last sentence, “I do hope her father is decent, and that he isn’t...”

“A scumbag.” Leo finishes the sentence off for Comte. “But he might be. Why would her Mother leave, otherwise?”

#@heavensbabygirl #@heavensbabygirl prompt #@sadshaxk #ikevamp #twilight

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comicteaparty · 4 years

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May 2nd-May 8th, 2020 Creator Babble Archive

The archive for the Creator Babble chat that occurred from May 2nd, 2020 to May 8th, 2020. The chat focused on the following question:

What are some of the weirdest things you've Googled while researching for your story?

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

For Whispers of the Past, the weirdest thing I googled was probably: "puncture wounds versus lacerations" and "chance of survival after getting stabbed." Pretty sure I also looked up: "treatment for arsenic poisoning," "lethal dose of arsenic," "arsenic in nature," "broken ribs symptoms and treatments," "pneumothorax," "can a horse kill someone by trampling them?" and "how far can you fall without dying?" Basically, just a bunch of medical questions. For another story, I think the weirdest thing I looked up was, "can you take antidepressants and sleeping pills together?" More medical questions

carcarchu

@ cronaj's answer "i swear i'm an author not a serial killer"

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

Hmmm.

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

I think for me was searching up symptoms of PTSD, eating disorders, and also victims of cheating

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

Probably that time trying to research poisonous substances available in Victorian and earlier households with potentially fatal results if ingested but not immediate, and their symptoms/treatments

The answer, incidentally, is that most of them aren't treatable if you've had a high enough dose to get symptoms.

And non-lethal doses tend to have unpleasant long term effects

Deo101 [Millennium]

I don't remember all the crazy stuff I've looked up. What's popping into my head at the moment, though, is I did almost a month of research into time travel paradoxes for a plot that I ended up not using! So that's fun

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

Also that Victorians kept arsenic (a white powder) in the same place as sugar (a white powder) in often unmarked containers since literacy was low and labels only work if you can read them

There was far more accidental poisonings from putting arsenic in your tea than I can count

carcarchu

what about having a picture of a skull and cross bones on the arsenic tin

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

I think it was arsenic. Maybe cynanide...

Ahaha

You'd think so wouldn't you?

That's not even going into the whole thing about green dyes for clothing being made from arsenic as well I think and being uh

Literally fatal to wear?

Well done, Victorians.

Let me grab y'all a source for that one

https://youtu.be/K2McemVuG28

Here you go!

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Oh my god what the

Them victorians are so morbid

Did you know that they have a garden of poison

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

Welcome to writing historical!

Yes I did

I wanna go

But yeah go back a century or two

Literally everything seems to be poisonous

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Arsenic, radium......damn they don’t follow WHMIS

carcarchu

wasn't even that long ago when they were putting mercury in everything

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

Including NORMAL FOOD

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

And toys

Kids were playing with them

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

Oh the Bradford Sweets Poisoning was a whole thing!

Hang on

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/1858_Bradford_sweets_poisoning

This one is uh

Definitely worse

carcarchu

bruh

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

Yeah

There's so much of this...

It's amazing humanity made it this far

So yeah that's what I've googled

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Would that...even fly here nowadays

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

What the arsenic

Nooope

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Hooooo god that is mildly terrifying

Like I make sweets for a living

I don’t even want to think how I’ll feel if I accidentally poisoned 200 people

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

It did lead to modern food hygiene laws and much better regulations on chemists being responsible for their supplies

But yep

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

I remember someone telling me “Behind every rule/regulation was someone who got hurt or died”

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

Yeahhhh

Sometimes also where there aren't rules because hahaha some companies are shit

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Yeah it’s sucks and it’s even worse because you KNOW they’re just pushing the limits

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

Capitalism has always been like that, it's just people can see it a bit more now

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Yeah, the age of information has really exposed the nasty side of things huh Hmmm I think I’ve studied something really different for my webcomic. I was looking into the justice system and how it treated minors

And I had to look up burn victims/homicides soooooooooooo

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

Whoops sorry for the ping, I thought you said mirrors not minors and was gonna ask

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Oh god that would be....completely different

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

I'm writing about vampires, mirrors are more common (concept and word)..

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Yes! I think it’s because back in the day silver was used in mirrors and that’s why you can’t see a vampire’s reflection

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

weirdest thing I searched so far is about er the male modeling industry and how they have to slap cheeks and junks to get the body to fill in clothing

and I wondered "do I need to do a deep dive in this or"

Nutty (Court of Roses)

I tried to look up what damaged vocal cords looked like, so i could show it when Count Bailey got poisoned, but I mostly got body camera shots inside a person's throat, so I had to largely wing it by darkening the veins in his neck lol Other than that, I have to look up Irish slang a lot, as Merlow slips into it more when he gets drunk.

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

I have a twittee thread somewhere about mirrors and vampires

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Okay tuyetnhi I’m a bit more...disturbed yet intrigued by that idea. Nutty yes I noticed that! I liked that small detail actually And Eilidh, i would love to see that twitter thread

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

Yeah, I ended up making a deep dive and ho boi

it's darker than I expected LOL

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I tried to look up people getting crushed by cars or falling objects but the videos were very blurry and made me dizzy so I just went fuck it my comic's not realistic anyways I'm winging it

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

Probably an extensive search for all things occult? Its such a wide topic so it was daunting to sift through everything, but also really cool to see so many different cultures have been influenced by such things! Ive read some excerpts about the sixth sense and human capabilities too, very interesting!

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

@Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!) That is the most splendidly weird research I have heard of

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

I was trying to research for one of my characters and i'm just

the things they do

I scream everyday

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

lol tuyetnhi got me to look it up but all I can find is stuff about sexual assault

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

that's what I mean

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Whoa okay

That’s really dark

Like I had to look up abuse relations

DanitheCarutor

Oh geez, I've looked up a lot of stuff. Recently I Googled public bathrooms and backs of toilets because I'm too lazy to get up and look at my own toilet. SAECKs/SAKs, the price with and without insurance, how it works and if men can use them. (Which was kinda sad that I didn't know they could although the resource was surprisingly hard to find, all except one link I found were about women using them.) I've looked up medical stuff like the different stages of certain cancers, their symptoms, treatments and other things involves like their effect on the person's mental health, if things like physical therapy is needed and the effects of the treatment along with the types of treatment needed. Also the cost with and without insurance, as well as cancer treatment facilities for people with low income. Various mental illnesses/disorders, the different types treatment, the effects of the treatment, as well as cost and facilities that offer free/cheaper treatment for people with low income. Lactose intolerance, celiac disease, gaslighting, trauma brought on by abuse. Things like the mental effects of children taking on adult responsibilities early on, growing up with lack of stability and human trafficking. Types of physical abuse that doesn't leave obvious bruising/scarring, psychological abuse (outside of gaslighting). Court stuff, like legal charges for attempted murder, court procedures. Caregiver programs for family members caring for someone with a severe mental illness. What actions are taken when someone files a charge for being drugged against their consent and the steps that need to be taken if your ID and credit cards/debit cards have been stolen, as well as what the police need do in those situations. Gosh, I can go on and on, just go on forever about all the things I've researched.

Most of it is medical and mental health related.

I feel this is fitting for some of the subjects we've Googled.

DanitheCarutor

Wow, I didn't realize how much I looked at the cost of stuff. Like a good chunk of my research has been dedicated to what different insurances cover, how much, the base price without insurance and payment plans for people in the latter category. I guess the upside is I'll have some knowledge on the different insurance companies if I ever get to a point where I can get it, as well as payment plan options if I'm ever hospitalized.

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

Googling images of cadaver hands for reference was... not a pleasant experience

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Most recently I was looking for heart dissections. I had to take a break cuz I was making myself feel sick X')

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Searching up burn victims was not fun either

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

also this has made me realize that artists can be a very morbid bunch

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

yeah like dang ya'll lmao

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I know someone who had to look up (a bit gory) "can you strangle/hang someone with your intestines"

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Chances are the audience is not gonna know either so

dunno how much accuracy matters in this situation :p(edited)

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

I mean....unfortunately I know what it's like to see a drowned corpse So if it's accurate....I would...strangely appreciate it more?

Like you never know your audience

DanitheCarutor

When I was first starting to dabble in comics I was attempting this dark fantasy/mythology-ish story that would have some gore. I looked up stuff like "skull being crushed", "what does 'x' limb look like when being ripped off", "what does a corpse look like after sitting for 'x' many days". Most of my searched led me to the Best Gore site, which is totally recommended if you need references for your gory horror comic, but is NOT a site for the faint of heart. You will most likely get sick from the content... and the comment section.

Oddly enough, when I used to do the occasional stand alone gore-ish illustration I'd get 1-2 comments with people being grateful for the accuracy. It's... interesting that they would know what would and wouldn't be accurate with stuff like that.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Oh, I looked up burn victims before.... Yeah, I've looked up a lot of weird stuff.

chalcara [Nyx+Nyssa]

I had to look up fresh and healed burnscar myself for a comic, a character survivived a housefire.

Most of the time I am googling history actually - and mostly tech-levels of a given time and what was contemporary with what - guns and knights for example co-existed for quite a few decades, that kind of stuff.

Deo101 [Millennium]

Y'know I'm thinking about it more, and I'm realizing why I can't recall the weird stuff I've looked up. I usually ask people for information! I know a lot of different kinds of people who are more than happy to talk about their experiences, so I can ask them for first hand experience with a lot of situations where I then don't really need to look up much other than to maybe fill some holes I have. It's a different kind of research

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Huh, the weirdest thing I’ve googled? Well, there’s the ever-uncomfortable ‘Googling certain body types for reference but probably looking like a creep to anyone who looks at my search history’. I’ve also googled very oddly specific things like ‘What is a 5-cube called?’ (It’s a pentaract). I’ve also watched videos that demonstrate how a bump key works, and to my FBI agent, I swear it was only for my comic. My search history gets pretty eclectic. I look up a lot of religious lore, and do lot of research into medieval times - mostly about the daily life of the average peasant. Also things like quantum physics, customs in other countries, and animal facts.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Just realizing that I once researched "medieval brewing." That was an interesting train of information.

Erin Ptah (BICP | Leif & Thorn)

For a lot of gruesome or dangerous scenes, I try to aim the search toward movies and TV screencaps. Like, if you need to draw a crashing car, find a series with a dramatic car chase where they slammed a stunt car into a wall in high-def slow-mo.

kayotics

I think the weirdest thing I looked up was trying to figure out the answer to the question “is the gas released by decomposing bodies flammable? And if so how much gas do you need?”

eli [a winged tale]

now I’m curious what’s the answer

kayotics

The answer ended up being that if there was enough gas being created it was probably not enough to be flammable: aka it would not light up the room.

I ended up asking a friend who knows more about decomposition to figure out the answer, but I just wanted to make sure if a character brought a torch into a musty murder basement, it wouldn’t light them up like a Christmas tree

Mostly: it gets smelly and stale

eli [a winged tale]

Good to know!

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

Hmm I think the wierd thing I looked up was whether Smile Therapy was a real practice? There are Photos too and I have a feeling it was real. Another thing I look up was; How would a real lady pirate dress in historical times? I did alot of extra research for some little visual hints.(edited)

I feel like Mob psycho nailed the creepiness of Smile Therapy because they were patients forced to pretend to smile, that's what I envision each time. That ep stayed with me(edited)

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

oh my god

Miranda

What is that picture from?? it's creepy haha(edited)

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

mob psycho 100

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

smile therapy is terrifying. Imagine getting punished if you didn't smile

in the end you'll be smiling as a conditioned reaction to fear, not because it's genuine

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

Yes exactly, the original one was hard to record so the Google was ambiguous about its existence but there's photo proof that it was a thing

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #comic tea party #ctp #creator interview #comic creator interview #creator babble

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ginnyzero · 5 years

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Good Books are Hard to Find

I have spent my fair share of time looking through the science fiction/fantasy section at book stores and browsing through Amazon trying to find that next author to read. The one where, no matter what they write, you’re going to want to buy every single novel because they are just that good. And when you do find a writer who exhibits the signs of being decent, you have to stand there and cross your fingers that as the series progresses they remember their own premise, world building and don’t go off into the badlands of ‘bad fiction tropes.’

I try to give every author I try a good three books (if they’ve got 3 books published) to hold my attention. Sometimes, I make it to four books. However, by the third book usually I can tell whether or not the author writes the types of stories that I want to read. (The first book is usually their best effort and doesn’t always translate into the second or third books. Sometimes writers do improve.) Or, other times, I figuratively throw the book across the room and into a box for Becca to read and review later. I try to give the authors a fair shake. If by the third book, I’m not happy and they have more published. I’ll go ahead and read the summaries for the next stories to see if they get any better. So far, this actually hasn’t worked.

Here are some of the reasons of why some books just don’t work for me:

They’re a knock off of a better writer.

Look, no one owns the basic building blocks of a fantasy world. If a writer wants to write a noir style detective in an urban fantasy world, then more power to them. But changing the name and changing the color of a coat doesn’t an original or an engaging story/character make or else, you’re just a poor rip off of Jim Butcher’s Dresden files without Butcher’s spark. I already own the Dresden files. They’re long. They’re engaging and you have to have more than an interesting title to keep my attention. Or else, I’ll just put it back down on the shelf and go buy the latest Jim Butcher book.

Love Triangles.

I’m no longer in high school. In fact, I never observed this behavior even in high school. So, the love triangle just confuses me completely. I understand the fantasy aspect of it. But past the age of sixteen, whether or not you’re dating two guys at the same time isn’t really that big of a deal as long as they both know about each other. In fact, usually, by the time we’ve met both guys. I don’t care for either one of them because they’ve been so obviously set up to be the main female character’s perfect mate. It feels so forced and stilted. Characters first, relationships second, love relationships third, please.

Serial Love Interests.

This is the next step after love triangles. I want to be able to root for somebody romantically. I don’t like picking up each book, having the same main female character and then having to get invested in a totally new male love interest. Only to find out from the next book’s summary that they’re not even going to be in it anymore. It makes me wonder what is wrong with the girl that she can’t keep a guy! I can understand that it is somewhat realistic for women to date several men over the course of their lives. If we must have several love interests over the course of a series, let them stick around for a few books so we can figure out exactly why they’re not any good for the main female character.

(I suppose this can be said about male characters too, but I see this more with female protagonists than I do male protagonists.)

Premise that Doesn’t Fit the Plot.

I chalk this up to poor research or the “and they solve crime,” meme. A lot of the books in the urban fantasy genre in particular I’ve noticed seemed to be shelved in the wrong section. Because, honestly, they’re really mysteries. And while I like a good mystery, sometimes the premise of the stories don’t actually fit with a mystery conclusion. Or, the premises would be much more interesting than the ‘they solve crime’ that the writer defaulted to. I have seen this multiple times. Basically, if you choose a profession for your character, then make sure your stories actually follow that professional line of work.

Look, if you’re going to write a bounty hunter. Then read and watch stuff about bounty hunting so you actually know what a bounty hunter does. They tend not to work for the type of people they actually hunt and security work isn’t their forte.

If I see a story where the premise is the main character is a nurse in a supernatural setting, I’m really hoping for a Grey’s Anatomy, House, ER style story lines where we have an interesting hospital staff diagnosing and curing interesting diseases and dealing with distraught families. I don’t want to see the nurse solve crime. That’s not what a nurse does! Leave the solving crime to the police detectives and private investigators. Please. There are so many more interesting stories than just ‘they solve crime.’

Also, if I do pick up a book about “they solve crime.” I want the books to be about “they solve crime” not the zany life, lack of character growth and whacky love life of only one of the characters. If the premise is two kickass female characters start an agency to solve crime, then make sure it’s a story about two kickass female characters, not one mildly kickass character.

Unqualified Main Characters.

You’d think I’d be talking about the mechanics, bounty hunters, security agents and nurses running around with a note pad and a camera solving crime. But I’m not. I’m talking about the private investigators who don’t know how to investigate or creatures who don’t know about or don’t want to know about who they are and the type of people they’re investigating! If you are a vampire and you are a private investigator that is supposed to solve vampiric problems, it is in your best interest to know a bit about vampires! Otherwise, I end up flipping to the back of the book to make sure the character survives. (Of course they survive, there wouldn’t be the next book if they didn’t, but I’m still morbidly going “how in hell are they going to get out of this intact?)

I swear, there was one book I read where the main character was so under qualified for what she was doing, she spent half the book bawling. Look, even I like dropping characters into absurd situations where they are unprepared, but there is rallying and trying to do it and then there is hysterical sobbing in a ball in the corner. One makes for amusing reading and the other does not.

Basically, I don’t really care what profession your character has, but unless they are still in college or first two weeks on the job, make sure they actually know what they’re doing, especially if they are supposed to be solving crime.

Contradictory Main Characters.

Okay, have you ever been reading a book where the author tells you one thing and then as the story progresses she shows you something completely different? Sometimes it’s a corollary of the above. The author is sure that their main character is a kung fu master, but really they’re just going hiyah, hiyah to a mirror in their bedroom?

Now when this happens around a female character, it usually involves her love life. I like to call this the princess/nerd syndrome. You see, on the outside the female character is a nerd and nobody wants to date her, but on the inside, really she’s a princess waiting for the right man to come along and see her for who she really is. Well, over the course of the story it isn’t just the ‘right man’ who comes along, it’s four or five ‘right men’ all at the same time! So much for no one wanting to date our helpless, socially awkward, powers pariah, nerdy female.

Usually later this is explained away by some random hand waving power of bullshit that the character has no control over. No. She’s not really that great of a girl. She just smells good, has fairy charisma, she can bear the man’s children without her or the baby dying or is the ‘chosen one’ of prophecy.

I understand this is a fantasy. No. I don’t get it. I don’t want to get it. It drives me crazy. I stop reading.

Shock Writing.

This is what happens when I’m reading along in the book and things are going fairly well. We’ve got a strong character and suddenly I turn the page and the character is being brutally raped! Shock writing is when the writer uses something horrible an awful (rape, kidnap, murder, character death, false accusations, power loss) to grab the reader’s attention and “shock” them into keeping reading.

Some writer’s go overboard with it. You can pick up a book start reading and discover that everything that could possibly go wrong with this character will. It’s shock writing over saturation.

I personally don’t read books to be led through a sewer. Scenes such as sudden rape in an effort to appear edgy in what was previously a book I could recommend to my mother really turns me off. And if everything possible has to go wrong with your character for the writer to feel the story is interesting and good (often the character stops growing at this phase), then I’m not going to bother to pick up any more of their stories.

Flat Main Characters.

A lot of times, I’ll stop reading a book because I just can’t get invested into the main character(s). Sometimes this is because the writer just hasn’t allocated enough book space for their character to shine. This might be the difference between plot driven and character driven stories. Just, no matter how much I like the plot or think the premise is interesting. If I can’t get behind the main character and feel some sort of empathy for them, then there’s no way I’m going to be able to stay interested in the story. Sure, there are plenty of writers willing to tell me in their books about the likes and dislikes of their characters, but they never take the time out away from their main plot to show me.

Some writers are so focused on their action. They forget that the characters they’re working with aren’t plastic puppets on strings. That these characters should have hopes, dreams, likes, dislikes, things in their pockets and thoughts before they go to sleep. In an action fueled plot, there has to be pauses and that is when you learn about the characters, in the pauses. I find plot driven works to either be boring or exhausting. And a lot of times when I finish the book, I don’t know anything about the main character or they haven’t grown at all.

These are just some of the general trends I’ve come across while searching for new books to read. So, while the books were readable, they just didn’t fit what I was looking for in a story.

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shookethbrooketh · 6 years

Text

Mistakes

Summary: Dan and Phil grew up in a society where their love lives were all planned out for them; at the age of five, they were given a diary to write to their soulmate in every day, and it would only show them the gender and skin shade of their future partner. Everything else about their soulmate would remain hidden, regulated by a secretive government agency. At the age of 25, Dan finally attends the national convention to search for his soulmate, and he meets someone he’s sure is his soulmate; every detail matches up. But the writing in their diaries are different. Dan’s sure he and Phil are soulmates, but the system begs to differ. The system guarantees it doesn’t make mistakes, but somewhere deep within him Dan has no doubt. He and Phil are soulmates, no matter what some records say. Mistakes have already been made, but he’s about to make a lot more.

Rating: T

Genre: Soulmate AU, Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Implied Sex, Swearing

Word Count: 12.6k

Challenge: Trope Challenge

A/N: Another fic I wrote for the @phanfichallenge :)

Read it on Ao3! Read it on Wattpad!

It’s crazy, isn’t it? How your entire life can be in complete shambles, shattered like a flimsy piece of glass, and you feel like the ground is crumbling underneath your feet and nothing could possibly stop it, and then something appears out of nowhere to change your life. How suddenly one unexpected aspect of your life, your day, your being is able to save you from yourself and everything around you threatening to attack. How we as humans put all our eggs in one basket whose wicker lining is sure to break someday. It really is purely insane how everything finally feels alright, but deep down there’s still pain because you know, and you knew from the very beginning, that the one thing keeping you alive and happy is temporary, and soon everything will be shattered once again.

Dan woke up at noon, as he did often on days he didn’t have to work. He was exhausted from the late night he’d had sitting up and doing casework; he’d rather leave his job at the law firm and spend his evenings on his laptop scrolling like he did when he was younger, but he was so overwhelmingly consumed by work that there was no way out.

He stretched his long arms and legs, dragging his lanky body out of bed and over to his desk. It was cluttered with files from the previous night, but he brushed them all aside and pulled out his pale white diary, rainbow on the front glistening as he opened it up to the day’s page.

Before reading the already filled out left hand side, he paused to think. This is a marvel he experienced every few months, and especially around that time of year.

Sometimes he just paused and thought about their world. He stared down at the little diary and thought about how utterly crazy it was that the tiny book controlled their entire lives. That they were in control of what they wrote in it, yet they really had no control at all. That there was such a good chance that he’d never know whose handwriting sat elegantly in the left hand side of his diary.

Still, twenty years after after he began writing in it, the entire concept of the diary blew his mind. He still remembered on his fifth birthday when the entire family gathered around the cleanly wrapped box that nobody got him, the one that simply appeared like all diaries did. He remembered tearing through the paper and opening the box, lifting the book out of it. He was young, yes, but all children, even at that age, understood the severity of the diaries and what each little factor of it meant. He took a moment to admire the vampire-white cover, symbolizing the almost albino skin tone his soulmate held. Quickly, though, his eyes settled on the rainbow lying square in the middle of the cover; he knew of it, but he’d never seen it before. It told him that his soulmate was a boy, not a girl. That wasn’t a weird factor, but it seemed different to him simply because both his mom and his dad had a simple straight, black line across their diaries. It wasn’t bad even in the slightest; it was just different. Dan didn’t mind.

He tore himself back out of his own mind, focusing on the same diary sat on his desk. It was open to the date’s page: July 1, 2016. That’s why Dan was flashing back; it was July 1. Everyone knew the date July 1. That was Description Day.

Once a year, on July 1, everyone would take up their daily diary page to write a description of themselves; they’d write about their physical appearance, job, and general life, but leave out any details about where they live or even their name. Those were the two unspoken traits; there was a government censor on the diaries so that if anyone attempted to write them, they would immediately be erased. It couldn’t be that easy.

But this year, everything changed for Dan. At the age of 25, July 1 also became Convention Day. Everyone over the age of 25 who hadn’t yet found their soulmate was expected to attend a national convention every year to attempt to find them. They were often so large there was no chance of finding anyone, but the success rate was high enough to where they went on. Dan had turned 25 only two weeks earlier, and it was time for his first one. In an hour.

He leaped from his seat, suddenly realizing he had only an hour to get to the convention. Luckily, he lived right in the heart of London, where the convention would be held, but eating and getting ready would take him a while. Within five minutes he had downed a bowl of cereal and found himself in the shower, rushing to make himself look presentable for the convention. Everyone always dressed to impress at these things. Half an hour later he rushed out wearing his nicest suit and clutching his diary in his arms, a pen hidden away in his pants pocket. It took him five overly frustrating minutes to hail a cab, and when he finally settled into the back of the taxi with 20 minutes to spare, he let out an exhale he didn’t know possible.

“Convention?” The driver asked. Dan probably wasn’t the first one she’d driven there.

“Yeah,” Dan said, out of breath.

“Mind if I park and come in with you? You should be my last run.”

“Sure, why not?” Dan said. “Description?” That was a one word question almost anyone who met on the street would ask each other. It was almost expected as a conversation starter.

“Woman, medium-white,” she said.

“Nice. Man, pale as hell.”

She chuckled. “Good luck with that.”

“And to you.” Dan pulled the pen out of his pocket and opened his diary, not yet taking time to read the other page.

“You haven’t written yet?”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Overslept.” The woman nodded and left Dan to jot down his description. He wrote about his freakish height, curly brown locks, chocolate eyes, and tendency to wear nothing but black. He told his soulmate all about his shitty law job, his lack of sleep, and his long list of extremely odd habits. After running out of space, Dan decided his description was probably good enough and turned to read his soulmate’s. Hey, it’s me. You probably already know all this, but i’ve got a jet-black quiff, sea blue eyes with flecks of color, and extreme height. I should probably be a basketball player, but I’m just a simple zookeeper. You could probably guess I love animals, which is why I spend 90% of my free time wearing quirky animal shirts and mismatched socks. I’m so glad you’re finally old enough to come to the convention; I’ve skipped the last four years because there’s not much of a point if you won’t be there, but I’m glad we can finally both have our first time going. Hope to meet you there today :)

Dan smiled at the diary, rereading the entry and visualizing the same man he’d spent years perfecting in his head. He just seemed so adorable and lovable to Dan; how did he get lucky enough to have such a wonderful soulmate?

He felt a bit bad for him though, with their four year age difference. The man wrote to nobody for four years, even fearing that there was a mistake and he didn’t have a soulmate. The day Dan finally wrote back was the best of his life. Or at least that’s what he wrote. Dan knew the man best from his scraggly yet beautiful handwriting that curled across his pages every morning. He felt he knew everything about him, how he’d get up early and drink way too much coffee to get through each day, how he’d stick his tongue in between his teeth when he laughed, how he’d take time out of his day to spend with each and every one of the animals at his zoo. Somehow, he knew all these things, all there was to know about him, yet they’d never even met.

The diaries were almost like email in Dan’s mind. They would write back and forth to each other, like pen pals. Except instead of writing happy letters to each other, they’d each describe their lives until one fell in love with the other, and it was beautiful.

By the time Dan finished writing and reading, they were pulling into the convention center parking lot. Having lived in London for years, he’d seen the scene before, but it was the first time he’d be venturing into it. The driver parked and they climbed out of the car, Dan stretching his freakishly long legs and taking a deep breath of the warm, summer air. There were two entrances; one with a rainbow over the doors, and one with a straight, black line. Dan and his driver both entered the rainbow door then parted ways upon finding a split between women and men. That was as much as they could split people up; they’d end up intermingling anyway if they divided any further. After that, it was simply up to the people to find their soulmates.

For once, Dan’s height played to his advantage. He managed to peer over the heads of the rest of the crowd, searching for a black quiff at his own eye level. Although he could see over most heads, he was still overwhelmed by the sea of people he was forced to attempt to wade through. They were packed in the room like a can of sardines, left to roam, if they could even move. Dan would have thought the convention would have a bit more order.

He kept looking around, but he couldn’t see anyone near him that seemed to meet his soulmate’s description. Every now and then he’d come across a couple of men smiling and chatting, their diaries seeming to match. Dan wished he could have that. He clutched his diary in his arms, holding it close as he wandered the room of people with almost identical books. Of course, in all the chaos and focus on the book, he forgot to protect the pen he had sticking out of the top of it.

Dan slid through groups of people searching for someone, anyone that might be their soulmate, and found people jostling the diary secure in his hands. He managed to maintain control of the book, but the pen fell to the floor, and Dan instinctively bent down to pick it up. That proved to be a horrible decision, as the masses seemed to close in over him as if he wasn’t even there. Finally he grasped the pen and looked around, trying to find a hole to pop back up. All he saw were legs, legs, and more legs. One pair caught his eye; he noticed two mismatched socks peeking out of the pant legs of one man standing above him and remembered the sock description in his diary that morning. He pushed himself up through the crowd and came out face to face with the man, mere inches from their noses touching.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Dan said, his social anxiety kicking in. “I dropped my pen and the crowd is so thick that I could barely stand back up.”

It was then that he finally started to get a good look at the man; he was just as tall as Dan, had the darkest black quiff that must have been dyed, and his eyes, oh, his eyes. They were a marvel to look at; they were a beautiful shade of turquoise, but looking close enough Dan could see little flecks of gold, almost as if they were scattered in just to make them worth so much more.

“You look like-”

“And you look like-”

“Do you want to get away from this crowd for a while?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“I’m Phil, by the way.”

“Dan.”

Phil took Dan’s hand unexpectedly, sending sparks through his body. They searched the crowd for any open space or even an unoccupied corner, but the place was packed, and people were still continuing to flow in. “I don’t usually think people do this before checking each other’s diaries, but do you just want to get out of here?” Phil yelled over the chatter of the crowd with the high ceiling’s echo. “We can come back if things don’t work out. Besides, I have a good feeling about you.” Phil smiled at him, and he couldn’t resist, nor could he seem to speak. All he did was nod, and then they were gone.

Fresh air entered Dan’s lungs as they escaped from the convention center, hand in hand on the sidewalk outside. “There’s a Starbucks down the street,” Phil said. “You wanna go there?”

Dan shrugged, just wanting to keep his hand in Phil’s. “Sure.”

They walked to the fork in the sidewalk, and Phil began to turn left while Dan went right. Their hands were nearly torn from each other, but Dan held on, pulling them back together. “Phil, isn’t the Starbucks that way?” Phil thought for a moment before pulling out his phone and pulling up what Dan assumed was Maps.

“Oh, you’re right,” Phil said, blushing as they walked in the correct direction. “I assume you’re from around here?”

“Yeah,” Dan said. “Just a few minutes down the road. And you?”

“Just outside the city. That explains why you know the area better than I do.”

Dan couldn’t help but notice that they were still holding hands. It seemed odd to him with the fact that they technically didn’t even know they were soulmates, but it seemed so right; it wasn’t even awkward, and Dan was the king of awkward. They were soulmates. They had to be.

“Anyway, Phil, what do you do?”

“Uh-” Phil stuttered, seeming nervous. “I’m a zookeeper.”

Dan smiled, knowing that was what his diary told him. “Great. I’m a lawyer.”

Phil smiled too, and Dan assumed his diary told him the same. “Awesome.”

“I can’t believe I found you,” Dan blurted, the awe finally setting in on him. He went to his first convention and found his soulmate in the cheesiest way possible. It was a movie he’d pay to see in theatres.

“Me either. First convention too!”

Dan chuckled at the fact that it almost seemed that Phil read his mind. “I know right? I’m sorry I’m so much younger than you; I can’t even imagine what it would be like to fearfully write to nobody for four years.” Dan stared at his feet as he walked, feeling the weight of the guilt he’d had about that for years.

“It was rough, but my parents assured me it happens all the time. The day you finally wrote back was the happiest day of my life,” he said, looking to Dan. “Well, aside from today, obviously.” Dan couldn’t help but smile at that, still in utter disbelief that any of it was even happening.

There were a few seconds of silence before they came up on the Starbucks, and Phil held the door open for Dan as they walked in. Dan’s heart beat out of his chest, every little action of Phil’s pulling him in deeper. They ordered their coffees, each of them taking careful note of the other’s order for future reference, and sat down at a booth.

“This is unbelievable,” Dan said for what he was sure was the second or third time. “I never thought I’d find you so easily.”

Phil smiled, cradling his coffee cup in between his hands and taking a ginger sip. “Me either. Do you think we should?” he said, nodding his head to their diaries they set on the table. Phil’s was the slightest shade darker than Dan’s, making the difference between the two distinct enough to tell which was which. They slid the diaries across the table and opened each other’s diaries to the day’s page. Dan looked to the page he wrote on earlier, expecting to reread what he wrote Phil this morning, except it wasn’t there. The writing on the page was in completely different handwriting, and said something completely different. Phil’s writing was different than the one Dan read from his soulmate that morning as well.

“We’re-” Dan stuttered.

“I guess we’re not-”

“Yeah, here’s your-”

“And here’s your-”

“Yeah.” They awkwardly exchanged books, neither of the pair able to complete a sentence. Dan couldn’t go on like that. “You seem really nice though... Do you want to hang out sometime? As-uh-as friends?”

“Yeah,” Phil said, disappointment clear in his tone. “That would be nice.”

Dan took a napkin from the holder on the table, pulled the pen he somehow still possessed from his diary, and jotted down his number on it, sliding it across the table to Phil. “Here,” he said. “Text me later.”

Dan stood up, swiping his diary and coffee cup off the table, tossing the latter in a bin on the way out. The warm, summer air hit his face as he stepped out of the air conditioning and hailed a cab, not having the energy to walk home.

After a short, silent taxi ride, Dan dragged himself up the stairs to his flat and threw himself on his bed, sighing. He could have gone back to the convention, he knew, but after that experience he just couldn’t. He let his diary drop to the floor, barely even caring about it at that moment, and left himself to just lie motionless there on top of his bedsheets.

Dan awoke a few hours later, the sunset visible outside his window. It had to be around 8 or 9; after his nap he wouldn’t stand a chance at sleeping a wink that night. He’d have to do something else beside sleep. He glanced to the pile of work on his desk, but he couldn’t think of anything but Phil. Thoughts of the man had occupied his mind since his eyes opened a mere few seconds earlier, and they weren’t leaving any time soon. He reviewed the afternoon with Phil, how strongly he felt about him, and, over and over again, when he found out that they weren’t soulmates.

Dan threw his head back on his pillow, frustrated. How could Phil not be his soulmate? He connected better with Phil than with anyone he’d ever met. Dan sighed, leaning over to pick up his laptop from the bookshelf beside him and rant about his experiences on Tumblr, but something caught his eye. Glimmering against the floor was the diary he’d thrown there earlier, left open to a page that was only half filled out. Dan picked it up, glaring at the page. He’d never seen it before.

It was only then that Dan realized he’d never read any of Phil’s-his soulmate who wasn’t Phil’s-entries from before he got his diary. They were written there his entire life, but as a five-year-old, he never thought it important to read them, and as he grew up he simply never had the time. Now of all times he thought he’d settle in and take a look. The first entry was written in huge, messy handwriting and poor spelling and grammar.

Hi there!!! My name is-oh wait. I cant say that can I? Im sorry. Im new at this. I just got my diaree for my birthday and Im super exited too write to u. Daddy says that sense Im writeing first that u mite not ansir four a wile, but hopefuly its soon becuz Im reely exited too meet u. its reely wild that we all have this thing they call soulmates isnt it? that each of us has one speshal person were suposed too spend our entire lifes with? i guess im thinking about it to hard. i just hope that sum day ill be abel too actually meet u and we can get maryed, witch daddy says hapens four most peeple. i reely hope im one of them. well, im starting to run out of room, so im going too stop writeing four today. ill talk too u again tommorow XD

Dan laughed at the message. It was so obvious that a five year old wrote it, but it was adorable. He imagined a tiny Phil sat at his desk in his childhood home, his legs swinging back and forth under the seat because his feet couldn’t yet touch the floor. He could only imagine the excitement on his face as he finally started writing to Dan-except it wasn’t Phil. It never was. Dan hit himself in the head, trying to remind himself that Phil wasn’t on the other end of that diary, but something told him it wasn’t working.

Still, Dan pressed on, turning the page and continuing to read. Hours and hours past as he read his soulmate’s writing. He would occasionally cringe or laugh at the events of the boy’s life; after all, he was no older than nine years old by the time Dan finished. Every page of the diary made him fall more and more in love with the man on the other end. The only issue was that the only one he could imagine as the man was Phil, and even though they weren’t his, nor did they have anything to do with him, he still attributed every single word he read to Phil in his mind, and he was still ten times more in love with Phil than with the man who was really on the other side of the diary.

....i can’t believe u finally answered! i can’t wait 2 get 2 know u. maybe someday i’ll even get 2 meet u... that would b so cool... i’ll talk 2 u tmrw :)

Dan read the first entry he ever received as a kid from the nine year old soulmate-who-definitely-wasn’t-Phil, smiling at it and slowly shutting the book. He looked over at his bedside clock and saw a glaring, red 3:29 on it. He really had been reading for hours. Technically, though, it was the next day, which meant he could write his own day’s entry. He looked to the floor and found the pen strewn there from when he threw the diary down earlier, picking it up and clicking it to prepare to write.

He flipped the diary to the day’s page and smiled at the thought of -not- Phil’s face when he would see that Dan wrote before him for once. Almost every day the other man wrote first. He set the pen to his respective side and began to write.

Today, I met a man. Not romantically, of course; that’s not how the system works. But we were at the convention and I met him, and he was a lot like you, to the point where we really thought we were soulmates, and then we looked in each other’s diaries and learned that we weren’t. It was devastating, but I think we’re going to be good friends in the future, and I can’t wait to meet you someday too. I know it’s odd to see me up this early, but I’ve been up all night reading your old entries from before I got my diary. They’re absolutely adorable; they just make me want to meet you even more. Someday, maybe. Have a good day :)

Dan signed his entry off the same way he normally does; he tends to either wish his soulmate a good day, or tell him he hoped he already had one, depending on how busy he was and if he managed to write before work or had to wait until after. Dan yawned, setting his diary aside and picking up his phone. He didn’t bother looking at it, as a sense of exhaustion had suddenly come over him, and he wanted to get some sleep before the morning. It was a Saturday, so he’d have all day to relax, but his sleep schedule could only get so fucked up before it started affecting his daily life, so he might as well at least make an attempt to fix it. He simply put his phone on its charger and rolled over, clutching his diary in his arms as he drifted off to sleep.

Dan woke up to sunlight streaming through his window, illuminating his face. He groaned and rolled over to face his clock, which read 10:38. At least he’d almost slept adequately. He forced his phone off its charger and saw a singular notification on the screen: a text from an unknown number.

Hey.... It’s Phil.

Dan almost spasmed himself awake upon reading the text, memories of the previous day flooding back in. Dan took deep breaths, trying to keep his cool; Phil couldn’t see him, only his text.

hey phil! i had a lot of fun with you yesterday :)

Dan sighed, setting his phone done and leaning to pick up his laptop. As he settled back under his covers, he saw his phone light up, and there it was: another text.

Me too! You wanna hang out sometime?

Dan’s eyes popped open, surprised at his immediate response.

yeah, totally! tonight sound good? we can go to the bar down the street.

Down WHAT street?

i’ll send you an address lmao. tonight good? 8ish?

Sounds great!

Dan threw his head back against his pillow, sighing and letting his phone fall next to him. What was he doing? What were they doing? It was all moving so fast, except it wasn’t moving at all. Nothing was moving; they weren’t soulmates. They were just going to hang out. As friends. Except Dan still thought of him as more than friends. He would give anything to spend time with Phil, but he knew it would only be digging him deeper into a hole that could cause him a lot of trouble, or worse.

But then again, he missed Phil more than he could possibly have imagined, and it had only been a day. If he didn’t see him again, he could very well go insane. Besides, pining over Phil in the diary he wrote to his actual soulmate probably wouldn’t go the best. He had to let out his pent up feelings somehow.

He took deep breaths, telling himself over and over again what was going to happen until he managed to accept it. “I’m meeting Phil at 8. I’m meeting Phil at 8. I’m meeting Phil at 8.” He repeated the phrase until it sunk in to the point where he was almost comfortable with it. Almost. By then it was 11; he had 9 hours. He might as well get some work done.

He sent Phil the bar address before putting his phone on its charger and sitting down with the pile of cases on his desk and letting time pass. That was his least favorite part about this law gig; there was so much boring, arduous casework that it nearly put him back to sleep. How was it even possible for a 25 year old who hadn’t even worked at the firm for a year to have so much work? He managed to work through a few cases before he started getting so overly hungry that he couldn’t focus anymore. He managed to scrape together a meal, and by the time he had finished that and a few YouTube videos, it was 6:00. He didn’t want to get up, and quite frankly he didn’t need to, but he decided he might as well pull himself out of bed and start getting ready early.

Dan let himself stand in the shower twice as long as he needed to and absorb the warmth of the soft water droplets. He knew the evening could bring more stress than he could handle, so he set himself on making sure he was as calm as possible before going. He then spent twice his usual time in front of the mirror fixing his hair and therefore destroying any sense of calm he may have had. By the time he felt ready to walk out the door, it was 7:30. He thought he may as well head out early; it was a beautiful night, and that would give him enough time to walk and take in the city instead of taking a cab.

The walk down the stairs seemed longer than ever today; the enclosed space was terribly humid from the summer air, and all Dan wanted was to get outside into the open and out to Phil. Eventually he reached the bottom, and he pushed the door open, taking a deep breath and stepping into the evening light.

It was beautiful, really, the walk to the bar. The sun was due to set in about an hour, so the light was already beginning to dim as it disappeared behind the cityscape. He began the walk in that glorious hour when he felt the need to photograph everything around him; the glare on each tiny detail made the entire city a work of art. By the time he reached the quaint bar, the light had dissipated, leaving a light blue sky to soon turn to many shades of oranges and pinks. It was calming; the situation made Dan’s heart beat at a mile a minute, but the walk was the relaxation he so desperately needed.

Dan checked his phone outside the bar; the time was 7:55, making him five minutes early. Phil could arrive at any moment. Dan decided his best option was to head on in; Phil would find him.

He took a seat at the grubby bar, taking a look around him. It wasn’t a gross bar, not the type where he felt like he’d be surrounded by drunks by the time Phil showed up. It was more of a neat little place; it wasn’t the cleanest, but it was nice and welcoming, a place where you’d meet someone once a week for a beer.

“What’ll ya have?” The bartender said, sliding his way over to Dan, isolated at the end of the bar.

“Just a beer, please.”

“What kind?”

“Pick your favorite.”

As the bartender turned to pour from his tap of choice, Dan heard the chime of the bell over the door signal that someone had entered the bar. His barstool swiveled at the speed of lighting and there was Phil, jet-black hair messy from the humidity.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” he said, sitting down beside Dan as the bartender slid him his beer. A few seconds later, Phil got a drink of his own, and the night officially began.

“Is it weird that I only met you a day ago and I already missed the hell out of you?” Dan wasn’t even one beer deep and he already sounded drunk. Maybe that was just him as a person. Drunk while sober.

“Is it weird that I feel the same way? Almost like...” he trailed off, sipping his beer.

“Almost like what?”

“Nothing.”

Dan gave him a bit of a side eye before finishing the phrase himself. “Almost like a long lost friend; it’s almost like we knew each other in a past life, and now that we’re back together there’s some sort of vibrant force drawing us back towards each other.” He looked to Phil, who had his eyebrows raised. “Bit of a weird analogy, but it was the first thing that came to mind.”

Phil stared off into the distance for a few seconds, seeming deep in thought. When his eyes finally focused back on Dan’s, all he said was, “Actually, that’s really accurate.”

Two beers in and things were getting deep. They weren’t drunk yet; no, they weren’t even close. But they were a bit buzzed, and their third round was already sliding down the bar. It was almost like being up late at night; they were completely alert and mentally sound, yet it seemed as if they had less of a filter than usual. When it gets late enough, you don’t really think; you just do what you want. Late nights usually only end in texts you’ll probably regret sending in the morning; this alcohol buzz, however, caused them each to let things slip that they would normally decide against saying, and those slips ended up being the deepest conversation Dan had ever had with another person.

“I don’t even know why I became a lawyer,” he said, pausing to take a sip of beer. “This isn’t the life I wanted to live; I never planned on growing up and sitting at a desk all day working cases until my hand cramped and ending up still having to take my work home with me. Why the hell did I think this was a good idea, Phil?”

“I couldn’t tell you, Dan. Being a-uh-zookeeper,” he stuttered, eyes widening a bit for the moment, although Dan ignored it. “has its downsides too. It’s generally really cool, getting to interact with the animals and even sometimes with the people, especially with me being such an animal lover, but you definitely don’t want to be an elephant’s pooper scooper every Wednesday afternoon.”

Dan laughed openly and childishly, something it felt like he hadn’t done in a long time. “That’s oddly specific.”

“I’ve pinpointed the worst moments of my existence, and that’s my expression of them to you. Be grateful.”

“You be grateful. Your job is way better than mine. You’ve got one quite literally shitty part of your week, but my entire job is shitty. The only fun part is getting to go to court and get paid to argue with people, but I rarely get to do that. It’s mostly just sitting at a desk day in day out. Boring as hell.”

Phil smirked. “I could commit a crime if you want. Give you something to argue about.”

“Hell no,” he chuckled. “Another case? I’d rather not. Besides, your court date wouldn’t come for a few months, so that wouldn’t do me much good. I’d rather have you here. You’re the happiest I’ve been in quite a while.”

“I feel special.”

“You are.”

After each of their fifth beers, they were each starting to feel the effects. They still weren’t quite drunk; they’d had enough beers in their day to learn how to hold them. But they weren’t quite thinking straight, and they’d be too drunk to drive in a matter of a beer or two. So, of course, they decided the best idea would be some harder liquor.

“Phil, are you sure about this?”

“Of course! It’s a Saturday night; have a little fun, Dan!” he nudged him softly with his elbow, his tongue pointing through his toothy smile.

Dan couldn’t say no to that. “Bartender! Two shots of tequila.” Phil smiled.

The night from then on would best be summed up in a television-style montage. The camera would zoom in on the shots as they clink together, Say Amen (Saturday Night) by Panic! at the Disco beginning to play in the background. You’d see at least five more scenes of shots and beers sliding down the bar, and probably Dan falling off his barstool once or twice as a clock ticks the time past into the morning. You’d see Phil laughing at Dan’s falls and hiccuping, his words slurring as he felt his morals caved in because he loved Dan as much as Dan loved him. You’d see them finally leave by around 3:00, no care left in the world for sleep.

But this isn’t a montage. This isn’t a television show. There was no music, and there was no zoom. There was just the two of them, drinking and drinking and drinking until they could barely stagger out the door. There was nothing glamorous about it; there was nothing montage-worthy to be shown. There was just the air against their faces as they each tried their best to keep the other from stumbling into the highway. Just the same walk Dan took earlier, except he could barely remember his way back anymore. Just the fumbling of keys with a chuckle in the background because oh boy was it funny that Dan couldn’t work a lock. Just the two of them finally getting inside Dan’s flat and stumbling up the stairs, somehow making it to his bed intact. Just the attack of lips, the loss of clothes, and regrets. There was no montage. There were only regrets.

Morning came, and sunlight streamed through the window as Dan came into consciousness. He groaned, covering his face with his pillow to protect himself from the light; he was hung over. Very. Hung over. Although he was practically dead, however, his ears still worked, and he could very clearly hear shuffling at the foot of his bed. This drew him to remove the pillow and very cautiously glance up to the visitor.

There he saw Phil, facing away from him, the blue shirt he was wearing the night before falling over his back as he put it on. Everything came rushing back to him. “Phil?” he called out, his voice raspy. Even the bit of loud sound made each of them cringe.

“Oh, Dan, you’re awake...” Phil whispered, obviously as hung over as Dan yet still rushing to get out.

“Were you just going to leave?”

“Yeah, I was! What did you expect me to do?”

“I don’t know, but the answer definitely isn’t leave!”

The scream whisper fight would probably be comical to any outsider, but to the two of them it was full of pure rage. “I’m sorry, but I just need to leave as soon as possible. You and I both know we weren’t supposed to do that. We aren’t soulmates.”

“Do you remember doing anything?”

“Well, no...”

“And neither do I, so who’s to say anything happened.”

“There’s a condom in the trash can, Dan.”

“Huh. Practicing safe sex even when hammered. Who knew?”

“Dan!” Phil yelled, causing them each to almost fall over from the sound. “Sorry,” he whispered. “But we’re not soulmates, and that means I’m going to have to leave. I’m sorry.”

“Wait, Phil, maybe there’s been a mistake!”

“What do you mean a mistake?”

“I know mine’s right, but maybe that accidentally isn’t your diary?”

“It is; I checked.”

“Well, then maybe the system messed up, and we’re really supposed to be soulmates? Like in the movies?”

“We don’t make mistakes,” Phil said, his voice dead serious. The light illuminated his face, making it look ominous as he turned to leave. It was a miracle either of them could take the sunlight without cringing.

“What do you mean we?” Dan said, his brow furrowed as Phil opened the door. “Phil Lester, don’t you dare leave this room.” Dan didn’t know when he learned Phil’s surname, but he somehow knew it, and he wasn’t afraid to use it.

Phil sighed, closing the door in front of him and slowly lowering himself to sit on the foot of Dan’s bed. “I haven’t been exactly truthful with you.”

In the split second, Dan’s mind went insane. There were now so many possible explanations for this mess. Phil was really someone else pretending to be him, and that was why they weren’t soulmates. Or maybe that did make them soulmates. Or maybe he stole someone’s diary. There were so many possibilities, but of course he didn’t even think about the reason the conversation started in the first place.

“I’m not a zookeeper. I guess almost everything else about me is true, as you can tell just from looking at me, but I’m not a zookeeper. I work for the IDMA.”

Dan’s eyes practically popped out of his head. If the world was a cartoon, his jaw would have dropped to the ground. The International Diary Monitoring Agency was the most infamous organization on the planet. Yes, someone had to monitor the diaries to make sure nobody was trying to break any of the many rules in place, but it still felt like an invasion of privacy. It wasn’t a hard job either; they were all taught the rules when they were first given their diaries. It was just a matter of who was willing to take the shit of doing it. It was public knowledge that most people who worked at the IDMA lied about their jobs; however, nobody knew if it was their choice or if they were mandated.

All Dan could manage to say was, “Wow.”

“I know, that’s why I’m so upset! Crazy, an IDMA monitor cheating... How’d I even let myself do this? I’m the biggest hypocrite in the world.” Phil banged his head on the wall, making a loud noise each of them cringed at. Through the intensity of the conversation, they’d almost forgotten about their hangovers. Almost.

“Wait, you’re an actual monitor? Like, you watch people’s diaries?”

“Sure do.”

“How do you not run across your soulmate?”

“There’s someone above all of us that goes through the monitoring lists and makes sure nobody gets their soulmate.”

“Have you... Have you ever seen mine?”

“It’s not on my monitor list, but I may or may not have looked it up this morning, and for fuck’s sake, Dan, be careful what you write. If I didn’t go ahead and check you off the list this morning you would have been put on a watchlist for that last entry.”

“You guys have those?”

“Sure do.”

“Damn. Guess you won’t be a topic in my diary anymore.”

Phil seemed to look a bit sad at that, but he shrugged it off. “Anyway, I guess you know that secret now.”

“Were you allowed to tell me that?”

“Not in the slightest.”

Guess Dan knew a second secret. “So... now what?”

Phil pondered that for a moment, obviously having never been in that situation before. “Either I walk out this door and we never speak to each other again, or we do something crazy and stupid.”

Dan grinned. “I think you already know what I’m going to pick.”

“Crazy and stupid?”

“The stupidest.”

Dan’s room suddenly looked like he was hosting a study session. Once their hangovers wore off, they had snacks and drinks galore piled on the floor, each of them sitting on the bed brainstorming. “How do you think we can do this? You know the place better than I do.”

“Well,” Phil said, staring off into space. “I think the only way to fix the situation is to alter the data to make us soulmates; the only issue is that I’m not sure if it’ll change our soulmates’ diaries through the past, making it obvious that we’ve altered the system. However, we have the biggest fucking handbook on the planet, and enough searching should get us an answer.”

“Can’t we just Google it?”

“No!” Phil shouted immediately, catching Dan off guard. “You can’t. They’re watching the Internet, constantly. You’ll be on a watchlist in minutes.”

“They really like watchlists, don’t they?”

“Yeah, it’s ridiculous. But I’ll head home and grab the handbook; I’ll be back in about half an hour if I can catch a cab.”

“Cya,” Dan said as Phil left the room. Dan watched him somehow immediately manage to hail a cab and climb in, disappearing off into the distance. As soon as he saw the little, yellow speck that was the taxi leave his vision, the anxiety set in. What if he wasn’t coming back? What if he was going to report him? What if something happens? He found himself watching every moment tick by; his eyes darted constantly between the clock and the window, waiting impatiently for Phil to reappear. 29 minutes after he left, Dan saw no sign of him, and his breathing was starting to become heavy. He ended up pacing the room for a few minutes until he heard a rough knock on the door. It must be Phil, he thought, trying to shove away the negative thoughts attempting to push their way into his head. He opened the door, not bothering to look through the peephole. In front of him stood Phil, but this time he brought back two other men, both dressed in suits. “IDMA. We’re gonna need you to come with us,” Phil said, a stern look on his face. Dan was stunned.

“Hell no!” he yelled, rage running through his veins. Before he could even turn to run, Phil had grabbed his hand, and in the split second to spare he found that the touch no longer affected him; he felt nothing towards Phil in his anger.

A needle was plunged into his arm, and all he could hear was a faint “I’m sorry” before all went black.

Dan’s eyes opened to a blurry, white ceiling with a singular fluorescent light on in the center. He took a moment to focus before sitting up and looking around; he found himself in an oddly neat prison cell. He walked over and pressed his head against the bars, looking as far in either direction as he could. He appeared to be in a hall full of cells just like his, although all that he could see were empty. The only place he could possibly be was IDMA.

That was when it all rushed back to him. IDMA, Phil’s betrayal, and most of all, his anger. And damn was he pissed. He couldn’t believe Phil did that to him; maybe they weren’t soulmates after all.

Dan decided to familiarize himself a bit more with his surroundings. He woke up on the bed in one back corner, sheets as white as the rest of the room. In the other corner was a toilet he honestly felt uncomfortable using even though there was nobody else around, and beside the bed was a desk with a diary sitting on it. His diary. Of course IDMA would bring his diary to his prison cell. They’d have an aneurysm if he didn’t write daily, even when he was in their own jail.

He decided he might as well write, although he had no clue what time it was. He was assuming it was still the same day; besides, there wasn’t much else to do. There was a white cup full of freshly sharpened pencils; those and the rainbow on the front of his diary were the only non-white things in the entire room. It was almost creepy. Dan picked up a pencil out of the cup, the sound reverberating through the entire empty hall. He glanced at the pencil for a while, considering how odd it was that his society preferred giving a sharp object to a prisoner to not having them write to their soulmate daily. He shrugged it off and put his pencil to the page, pausing it as soon as it hit the paper. Words were appearing on the other page.

Only once or twice in his life had Dan managed to write at the same time as his soulmate, and it was always a feat to watch the other person’s words roll in. He could physically see each stroke of the pencil, each eraser mark. It was almost magical.

It’s been quite a day, (soul)mate. I’m almost surprised you didn’t write first again. I usually have Sundays off, but I’ve been at the zoo all day dealing with a sick giraffe. He passed away this afternoon, and I’m kinda down now, so I’m not really talkative. Hope your day’s been better than mine.

Dan laughed at the entry; it was really quite sad, but in comparison, his day seemed like nothing. Alas, he had to just suck it up and answer. He couldn’t exactly vent to his soulmate about how he was in jail for cheating on him.

It has! I hung out with my new friend all morning and now I’m just chilling. I saw you write; it was really cool! Sorry about the giraffe; hope you have a good day TOMORROW!

The only real lie there was that it was a good day, he thought, so it was good enough. He tossed his pencil back into the cup and shut the book, letting his eyes linger on the rainbow on the front. It was really the only brightness in his life. That was when he noticed his clothes. They were all white, just like the entire room around him. He furrowed his brow, glancing down and slowly pulling forward the band of his white pants. Even his underwear was pure white. “Are you fucking joking?” Dan let his waistband snap back and flopped on the bed. This was bullshit.

Suddenly, he heard the jingle of keys in the otherwise silent hallway. He immediately assumed someone was unlocking the door at the end of the hall and leaped out of bed to press his head against the bars. In walked Phil, and his first instinct was relief, but then he realized Phil was a massive dick and threw himself away from the bars.

“Damn, can you believe we still have to use keys in this sector? I’ve accidentally put my badge up to a non-electronic lock five times in the last half hour,” he said, settling his gaze on Dan.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Relax, Dan, I’m here to get you out. Here, take these,” he said, tossing his clothes from earlier in the day through the bars. “It’s 11:00; everyone else is already gone. Let’s get this over with.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I got you into the facility, Dan. It’s time to go make a few edits.”

Dan’s mind was racing almost as quick as his heart. He didn’t know what to believe anymore; he was still madly in love with Phil, but he didn’t know if he could trust him. There was no reason for him to get him arrested, especially with no warning. That wasn’t something you’d do to someone you loved. But alas, Dan awkwardly threw on his own clothes. There was no privacy in the cell, so he made Phil turn around because they didn’t need any sort of awkwardness between them in that moment.

“And before you come out,” Phil added. “Trash that thing.” He pointed to Dan’s diary on the table. “You won’t be needing it.”

Dan glanced at the book he’d been writing in every day for twenty years. Every day, for twenty years, he wrote a message to a person he’d never met; he wrote to someone he was supposed to be destined to fall in love with, although he’d never even heard their name. He knew everything about the other person, although he really knew nothing. The only person he really knew everything about was Phil, not the mysterious ‘soulmate’ hiding behind the pages of a little, white book. In one swift motion, he slid the diary into the tiny trash can beside his desk, pencils along with it. They were all part of the same sham.

Phil unlocked the door, and it screeched open, causing each of them to cringe a bit out of fear; Dan didn’t know what kind of security there was around there at night, but he definitely knew that the less sound they made, the better. Dan slipped out once the door was wide enough for him to fit through, and he followed Phil down the hall the opposite way from which he entered.

Dan honestly had a lot of things to be confused about; he had no clue where they were going or why, nor did he know how Phil managed to get all the keys he needed to get them there, but all this work was done behind the scenes, and he honestly couldn’t complain about not having to be involved.

“Where are we going?” Dan spoke in a whisper, thinking back to when they were hung over just that morning. Or at least he thought it was that morning. “And how long have I been out?”

“Only a few hours. Sorry you didn’t get anything to eat; we can go out afterwards.”

“Oh, great, now I’m hungry. Thanks.”

“Anytime. Now, back to the topic at hand. We’re going to the Ancient Library.”

“The what?”

“You’ve never heard the legend of the Ancient Library?”

“No?”

Phil took a deep breath and spoke in a mystical voice. “The Ancient Library is rumored to be the place where the records of all the soulmates are held. Legend says that if someone can find and access the Library, they’ll be able to see who everyone’s soulmate is. It’s even said that it’s possible to change the records, although I’m not sure how. This immense power is why it’s said that the library is very well hidden, although it’s rumored to be somewhere in this building.”

“Wait, so you’re telling me we don’t even know this place exists? How is that a good idea? We’re just going to search this entire building head to toe for something we don’t even know is here?”

“Not exactly,” Phil said, grinning. “Us employees have our own rumor that it’s hidden inside the Director’s office, although the security there is so intense that nobody’s ever figured out how to get inside, even with our badges.”

“So how are we going to get in?”

Phil immediately flushed red, biting his lip. “I may have uh... slept with the Director...”

“Man is that ironic.”

“We’re not gonna talk about it.”

They continued down the hall in silence, Phil leading the way to where Dan was sure he’d know where the office was; he was assuming he’d at least been in there once or twice.

It was a decently long walk; Dan honestly had no clue where he even was, nor how big the facility really was, but it seemed huge from the inside. Dan’s legs were exhausted by the time they reached the huge, wooden doors, although that could’ve just been due to the fact that he was extremely out of shape. That was more likely.

Phil walked up to a glowing sensor beside the doors and flashed his badge in front of it; the white light turned green, and he pushed the doors open. Dan was a bit surprised that there was no human security around the facility, but he assumed the government just couldn’t be bothered with spending the money. The security outside was enough, until the threat came from the inside.

Dan wandered into the room behind Phil, looking around the extravagant office; there were animal heads lining the random fireplace that was for some reason in the long room, and there was a corner that just contained a bunch of gold and silver bars in a case. Behind the huge, messy desk of the Director was a certainly three times larger than life picture of who Dan assumed was the man himself. It all reminded him of Mr. Burns’s office from The Simpsons.

“So where are we going from here?”

“I’m pretty sure the entrance is around here somewhere; we just need to find it.”

The two began searching the room from head to toe, feeling around every inch for something suspicious. Dan honestly felt a bit stupid pulling on the horns of dead animals to see if they activate a hidden door, but he was in too deep to care. Finally they had searched the entire room except one spot. The two of them made eye contact before each glancing at the desk. “We’re gonna have to go through that, aren’t we?” Dan asked.

“Very carefully,” Phil answered. “If we don’t leave everything exactly as it was, he’ll notice in the morning.”

Dan nodded, and they began carefully opening drawers. After a couple moments, Dan found a drawer that opened to a control panel. “Phil?” Phil perked his head up from his own drawer and looked over Dan’s shoulder. “What the hell is this?”

There must have been dozens of tiny buttons in all different colors, none of them labelled.

“I have no clue.”

“What kind of powers does this guy have? What happens if we push any of these buttons?”

“Once, again, I have no clue. But my guess would be to push the big red one.” On the left side of the control panel, there was a red button. It was twice as large as most of the others and on its own, but it too had no label. Nevertheless, it was their only hope. Dan pushed the button.

Suddenly, the ground beneath them both collapsed in on itself, sending them straight through the trapdoor and down a chute. Dan was relieved simply to feel a slide beneath him instead of the bottomless void. He felt the curve of the chute increase, and suddenly he was spat out in a dark room.

Dan could see, but very little. There was dim, blue lighting, but he wasn’t sure where it was coming from. “Phil?” he whispered.

“Dan?” came back, and he saw Phil approach him and take his hand.

“Is this good or bad?”

“I don’t know.”

The two edged forward, Dan focused on his feet to make sure he didn’t step on any more trapdoors. Phil’s hand was tightly in his, and he appeared to be searching the room intently.

“This way,” Phil said, suddenly walking briskly towards what Dan finally recognized to be the sources of the only light in the room; there was a small door, light shining through the frame, and another ID sensor.

Phil flashed his badge in front of the sensor and it flashed green, much to Dan’s relief. “Hard to believe the security on something so important is so loose,” Dan said as Phil opened the door and blue, fluorescent light poured into the room.

“That’s because nobody knows how to get here. In all honesty, I can’t even tell you for sure that we’re in the right place.”

“You’re real mysterious, you know that?”

Phil smiled at him, his face glimmering from nervous sweat in the blue light as he climbed through the door. “It’s my best quality.”

He followed Phil into the room and took in his surroundings; the room was massive, to the point where he could barely see the end of the hall, where something he couldn’t identify sat, and there were rows of filing cabinets as far as he could see. On the top of each was a cloudy screen with blue letters on them distinguishing alphabetical order, some with solely last names.

“Wow. This is really it,” Phil said, eyes full of wonder.

Dan hesitated, simply looking confused. “What kinda Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix shit is this?”

“Where do you think we got the idea for the blue?” Phil grinned.

“Nerds.”

“Your tax money.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “So every person in the UK is in here?”

“Yup. Buckle in for the ride; it’ll take a while to get to our names. This one room is underground the entire facility; it’s nearly a mile wide.”

“You didn’t tell me there would be walking involved!”

It was Phil’s turn to roll his eyes. “Come on, we don’t have all night.”

The two took off down the hall, and after about five minutes of agonizing walking they came to a shelf with “Howell” at the top.

“Popular name, eh?”

“Shut it, Lester.”

On the third shelf from the top Phil found the Daniels, and it took him a few tries to find the right one. They may print diaries with skin color and gender on them, but they were way too lazy to print files with clarification. They were lucky Phil was tall; if he was any shorter they’d have to find a ladder.

“Let’s roll,” Phil said, heading back to the main walkway.

“The hell do you mean ‘let’s roll’? What are you doing with that?” Dan asked. Being in the presence of his file made him want nothing more than to look at it.

“We need to go find mine!”

“Can I at least see my file?”

Phil straightened his shirt and puffed up his chest. “Classified information,” he said, turning on his heel and walking deeper into the labyrinth.

“Classified information,” he said mockingly, “my ass. It’s MY file! Besides, we’ve broken enough laws today.”

“Fair enough,” Phil said, holding the file out behind him as he walked. Dan grabbed it and immediately began violently flipping through it. It had all the normal records, like date of birth, full name, address, and medical records, but behind that were the soulmate records. Dan felt as if he had hit the holy grail of records. Phillip Lester. That was his soulmate. He looked up at Phil. “Phil?”

“Yeah?” he said, not turning back.

“Isn’t this you?”

Phil stopped, furrowing his brow, and took the file. “No, it isn’t. There’s only one L in my name. That’s weird.”

“Sure as hell is,” Dan said, thoughts racing as they made their way to the Ls. Finally they reached the two cabinets full of Lesters, and Dan stuck his tongue out at Phil to show that he was superior.

Phil rolled his eyes and found his record, opening it himself. “That’s classified information!” Dan mocked.

“Hypocrite,” he said, turning to the soulmate page. “It says my soulmate is a David Howell.” Phil looked up at him, eyes wide with awe and adventure. “This is so bizarre. Do you really think there’s two other guys on this planet that look exactly like us, have almost the same names as us, were born on the same days as us, and have practically the same lives?”

“Maybe if you were really a zookeeper.” Dan grinned. Phil strode purposefully back over to the filing cabinet and pulled out the file of a Phillip Lester, flipping through it.

He looked up, mouth seeming stuck open. “He’s just like me. Just like your diary says.” Phil’s eyes suddenly changed, as if he was filled with determination he didn’t have before. “Run back. And I mean run. And get David Howell’s file. Make sure it’s the right one. Then run to the end of the hall. I’ll meet you there.”

“Why do I have to run?”

“Because you don’t know what you’re doing at the end of the hall.”

"Do you?”

“Not really, but I have an idea.” A few seconds passed. “Go! We don’t have much time.”

“Ominous.” Dan turned and ran off, watching each letter pass until he finally reached the H’s. He panted over to the files and found a David Howell that matched every description of him. He dragged himself back to the walkway and doubled over, realizing the worst of the two runs would be the one back. He sighed and took off running, focusing on the wind on his hair until he finally caught up with Phil.

“Happy.... now?” he panted, heart beating faster than he was sure a human heart should. He really needed to get into shape.

“Very much so,” Phil said, taking the file and checking to make sure everything was in order. Dan glared around to find that they were in the S’s, and the object at the end of the hall was growing nearer. As they inched closer, Dan realized the mysterious object was actually a triple-monitor computer, just like he’d imagine the IDMA spying system would be. Finally, Dan’s heart rate slowed to almost normal, and they reached the end of the hall.

Phil sat down and woke up the computer, and all three monitors popped open at once. Dan couldn’t help but notice the pieces of tape over all of the cameras. Ironic. Phil put his ID up to a sensor again, and Dan couldn’t help but wonder how much power that little piece of plastic could give a person. It was kinda creepy, to be honest.

“What are we doing here?”

“Well, I’m not quite sure-”

“You’re telling me we’ve done all this and there’s only a chance that you know what to do?”

“Uh-” Phil stuttered, turning to face Dan. “Maybe.”

Dan groaned. “Just try your thing.”

“Well, I have one idea...” he said, opening his own file and pulling out his basic information paper. “There’s a barcode here, you see?” Dan nodded. “Maybe it’ll register with the scanner.” Phil put it up to the scanner, and nothing happened. Fear began to settle into Dan’s heart. “Damnit,” Phil said. “Work, you dumb thing!”

“I don’t think it’s working,” Dan said, after he tried to scan it about ten more times.

“Damnit, Dan,” he said, his head hitting the computer desk. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Phil,” Dan said. “You tried your best.” He glanced at the time on the computer monitor, reading 4:36 AM. “It’s almost five. Janitors and security will start getting here soon, right?”

Phil sat up and nodded. “They come at five.”

“Then let’s get out of here and go home.”

Phil sighed and stood up, beginning to walk alongside Dan. “Well, about that...”

Dan’s head snapped towards Phil. “What?”

“You have to go back to prison.”

Dan looked down at his all white clothes. “Oh, yeah. That. You can’t get me out of that?”

“Nope, sorry.”

Dan groaned. All the power of that damned badge and he couldn’t even get a man out of prison. He could get into the Ancient Library, he could get into the computer, he could-

“Wait, Phil!”

“What is it?” Phil asked, excitement evident on his face.

“You said you slept with the Director, didn’t you?”

Phil rolled his eyes away and went back to a normal expression. “Didn’t I say I didn’t wanna talk about it?”

“No! Doesn’t that mean you could talk to him about there maybe being a mistake?”

Phil gritted his teeth and sucked in air. “I don’t know; that’s a bit risky. You know, we never make mistakes.”

“Phil, this was obviously a mistake! What do you think this is?”

“Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe we’re not soulmates.”

Dan stopped walking. “What?”

Phil paused beside him, seeming a bit annoyed at the holdup. “Dan, our real soulmates are almost exactly like us. If we’re in love with each other, we’d probably be in love with them too. Maybe it was right, and we’re wrong.”

“Or maybe we’re right, and it’s wrong! You said it yourself, we’re in love with each other. Maybe my ‘soulmate’,” he said, throwing in air quotes, “is similar to you, but he’s not you. You’re the only you out there, and damnit, Phil, I’m in love with you.”

Phil sighed, starting to walk again. “I’m in love with you, too; I just... I don’t know.”

Dan took his hand, pulling him back and putting both his hands in his. “Phil, aren’t we here to do something crazy and stupid?”

“I mean-”

“What are we here to do?”

Phil sighed again. “The stupidest...”

“Exactly.”

“Let’s just go back to your cell. I’ll think about it.”

‘I’ll think about it.’ Try thinking about it when you’re stuck in a jail cell with nothing to do all day. Dan was bored out of his mind, with nothing else to think about. He pulled his diary out of the trash and wrote some positive bullshit to his soulmate. He was pretty sure lying in his diary was illegal too, but what were they gonna do? Lock him up? Dan flopped on his bed, sighing. Phil better pull through with the director.

It was late at night again when Phil came. As soon as he appeared at the bars, Dan was up against them, eyes wide. “Did you do it?”

“I bullshitted so hard for you, Howell.”

“Oh, thank fuck. What did you tell him?”

“I told him how we met and thought we were soulmates, and that we thought we loved each other, but you came on to me-”

“Hey!”

“Sorry, it’s what I already had to tell them to get you arrested.”

“Thanks.”

“But you came on to me so I turned you in, but I still felt in love with you and I just wanted him to check to see if there was a mistake. He didn’t take it too well, assuring me that no mistakes have ever been made in the IDMA, but I know how to get what I want from him.”

“Thanks. Now I have to think about that until I get out of here. So he checked?”

“He’s having someone look into it right now. The results should be back by the end of the day tomorrow.”

“That’s so long!”

“Better than nothing.”

The next day was undoubtedly the longest of Dan’s life. He much enjoyed bullshitting yet another diary entry to Phillip. This time, he really did. It was more fun when he was lighthearted enough to be creative with it, even more fun when he knew who the person on the other side was, and a hell of a lot more fun when he hoped it would be the last one he’d ever have to write.

The time passed slowly; if his life was a cheesy television show, that episode would show frames of him lying on the prison bed in different positions to symbolize time passing. Dan was perfecting the beautiful dragon he’d drawn on his desk after dinner when he finally heard the door open. He threw down his pencil and leaped from his seat, rushing over to the bars, where he was met with two men in official-looking suits, with an older man standing behind them. He jumped back from the bars, moving up against the back wall.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Director James Osborne of the IDMA,” he said, showing a badge that looked similar to Phil’s. Dan inched forward to read it; it seemed legitimate. “These are my bodyguards. We’d like you to come with us, Mr. Howell.”

“What’s happening?” he asked, suspicious. As hopeful as he was that this was good news, he couldn’t trust the IDMA, and he knew that.

“I can ensure your safety; we’re just going to my office.” Dan nodded, and he unlocked the cell. The four of them walked, the bodyguards making sure Dan stayed ahead of the group at all times. They gave him directions, but he already knew most of the way; it was the exact place he’d gone to the night before, but they didn’t, and couldn’t, know that. Dan took a moment to recall everything Phil had told him to make sure he made his story line up with Phil’s if necessary.

When they reached the office, the bodyguards ushered Dan from the door as the Director put his badge up to the sensor and opened the door. When they entered, an ebony head turned from a seat across from the Director’s desk and Phil was staring at him. “Phil!”

“Dan,” he said with a smile. It didn’t seem like a good smile. It seemed like a tired and hopeless smile. Suddenly Dan was filled with fear. He felt a bit safer with Phil’s presence, but he was still terrified of whatever news was about to be shared with him.

“Take a seat, Mr. Howell,” the Director said, sitting in his overpriced office chair. Dan took a seat in the guest chair beside Phil, and the bodyguards took their place on either side of the Director.

“So,” the Director said, placing his hands on the table and leaning in towards them. “It has been brought to my attention that something very bizarre has happened with both of your soulmate assignments. I have to tell you, this is something that has never happened before.” He paused for a moment, and Dan and Phil made brief eye contact with each other before looking back at him expectantly. “There was a Phillip Lester and a Philip Lester born on January 30, 1987,” he said, looking at Phil. He turned to Dan. “There was a Daniel Howell and a David Howell born on June 11, 1991.” He cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair. “The two people born on each day grew to be very similar; they have strikingly similar appearances and lives. Phil, this Phillip man grew to have the career you use as your alibi. Dan, this David man has chosen a law path similar to yours. London is a big city, and the United Kingdom is a big country. This is something that is so unlikely to happen that it is the first time in human history that it has occurred.”

“What is it?” Phil asked, finally speaking up for the agony they were both experiencing.

“With all the similarities, our system misperceived whose soulmate was who.”

“There was a mistake?” Dan asked in awe.

“There was a mistake,” the Director said.

“We’re soulmates?” Phil asked, too nervous to react without complete confirmation.

“You are soulmates.” At that, Phil leaped into Dan’s arms, and their lips finally connected without the feeling that they were doing something wrong. They weren’t doing anything wrong; they were two men kissing their soulmate, and they were finally allowed to be happy.

Phil finally tore back, disappointing Dan, but he realized how awkward the situation must have been given the affair Phil had with the Director. “What happens now?”

“Well,” the Director said. “Firstly, both of you are prohibited from speaking of this incident, or else you will be incarcerated. And, of course, Daniel, you will be released.” Despite the anger that he didn’t get to finish drawing his dragon, Dan couldn’t help but smile at that. “The other two people in question will be brought in independently and informed of the error as well as the consequences for sharing it and given new diaries. You, of course, no longer need yours.”

“Director?” Phil spoke up.

“Yes, Mr. Lester?”

“I’d like to resign from my position here.”

The Director was taken aback. “Why?”

“Through this experience, I’ve seen how corrupt a system that plans your life for you can be. I’m not here to change it, I just don’t think I can be a part of it anymore.”

The Director sighed deeply, his age visible in his appearance. “I’ve seen a lot of corruption in my time here. The system has its issues, just like every other. Some of it is just plain unnatural, but it’s how this world functions. Disassembling it would never work. I can respect your decision.”

“Thank you, sir,” Phil said.

“You two may go.”

The two scrambled from their seats, eager to get out of the facility and into their new lives together. As soon as the door closed behind them, they fell into each other’s arms in a deep embrace. “I love you,” Dan murmured into Phil’s chest.

“I love you too.”

The two locked fingers and began the walk to claim Dan’s belongings from the prison wing. “Can we stop by my cell and grab my diary?”

Phil turned to him, shocked. “Why would you want that thing? We both know it’s full of corruption; if I could leave mine in this hell, I would.”

“Yeah, the system is corrupt, but that book isn’t the system. That book is a story of my life, chronicled with every day since I was five years old. It’s not a piece of the system; it’s a piece of me.”

“Huh,” Phil said. “I’ve never thought of it that way before.”

“Sometimes I’m insightful,” Dan said.

After grabbing Dan’s diary and taking a five minute break to make the finishing touches on Dan’s dragon (with Phil’s help), Dan was changed back into his normal clothes. “This is definitely nice,” he said as they made their way to the facility’s exit.

As the setting sun shined in Dan’s face for the first time in days, he turned to Phil and smiled. “You don’t make mistakes, huh?”

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #phan au #phan soulmate au #phan angst #phan fluff #angst #fluff #au #soulmate au #phic stuff #dong and ping #tw #tw swearing #tw implied sex

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therealkn · 5 years

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David’s Resolution - Day 18

Day 18 (January 18, 2019)

Blade: Trinity (2004)

“In the movies, Dracula wears a cape, and some old English guy always manages to save the day at the last minute with crosses and holy water. But everybody knows the movies are full of shit. The truth is, it started with Blade, and it ended with him. The rest of us were just along for the ride.”

In 1997, Batman & Robin was released to theaters and... well, a lot of people didn’t like it. In fact, many say it’s one of the worst movies ever made. The first part is true as it was slammed by critics and audiences upon release and has cultivated a considerable notoriety for its badness; the second part is false because trust me, it is FAR from the worst ever made. If you unironically consider Batman & Robin one of the worst films ever, please tell me what your criteria are for determining whether a film is “one of the worst ever”, because I think that criteria is lacking. But one thing that is for certain about Batman & Robin is that it, along with the failure of Steel that same year, more or less killed DC Comics’ hold in the box office. They struggled for several years with other films until finally seeing success again with 2005′s Batman Begins, which was a critical and commercial success and started Christopher Nolan’s “Dark Knight Trilogy” of Batman films.

In between those Batman films, however, Marvel Comics decided to take another shot at movies after some... not-so-great films. And we got Blade. Hell yeah.

Telling the stylish and action-packed tale of the half-vampire Blade (Wesley Snipes) who hunts down vampires and does so in the coolest way possible, Blade - released one year after Batman & Robin - was a critical and commercial success, Marvel’s first in the box office. This was impressive not only because it was a comic book movie and people were questioning the viability of the genre after Batman & Robin, but also because it was an R-rated comic book movie featuring a more obscure character instead of someone more well-known to audiences. Blade was a pretty cool, stylish, badass movie and while X-Men and Spider-Man would become bigger and more famous successes, I’d like to think that Blade started Marvel’s new era of superhero movies and influenced their approach to making future films, especially when it came to looking into more obscure properties to adapt to film like the Guardians of the Galaxy.

And then there was Blade II, released in 2002 and directed by my guy Guillermo del Toro. This was a sequel that was even better than the original in practically every way. The villain was cooler and surprisingly sympathetic (not being mean to you, Stephen Dorff, you were great in the first film, but I’m just saying), the story has some neat twists to it, the characters are great and memorable, the action’s exciting and one-ups the sequences in the first movie, and it has Del Toro’s distinctive visual style for days.

And then came Blade: Trinity, which cocked the whole thing up. In order to properly prepare for this film, I watched the other two films (I’ve seen them before, which is why I’m not writing full reviews for them). I had actually tried to watch this years ago but only got as far as the first act because younger David somehow thought it was that bad. That’s the younger David who would have probably disliked watching sex, lies, and videotape.

This movie’s premise is simple: the vampire world has decided that in order to destroy Blade, they hit the Godzilla threshold and awaken Dracula (Dominic Purcell), the very first vampire ever to exist, to help them fight. And this time, Blade’s not doing it alone. Okay, he wasn’t always alone, as he had his mentor Abraham Whistler (Kris Kristofferson) in the other two films and- oh, they kill off Whistler in the first act, wow, that’s some bullshit. Well, now Blade has become part of a group of vampire hunters called the Nightstalkers, and accompanying him is the wisecracking Hannibal King (Ryan Reynolds) and Whistler’s daughter Abigail (Jessica Biel). Okay, the stakes are raised - pun unintended, promise - and this is going to be the biggest challenge yet for Blade.

Speaking of Ryan Reynolds... he’s the best thing in this movie ,getting that out there right now. His character, Hannibal King, could best be described as “Deadpool Lite”. He calls his vampire ex a cock-juggling thundercunt, which is one of the greatest insults of all time and that alone makes him great. I can see why some people would find him annoying or grating, but I like to think of it as a dry run for his playing the Merc with a Mouth, which is funny considering that around this time, Reynolds was hearing about the Deadpool character. In fact, after this movie, Reynolds would begin the twelve-year-long journey of bringing DP to the big screen, which would involve playing a character named Wade Wilson in X-Men Origins: Wolverine.

I’m sorry, this movie is not great. It’s just a big disappointing letdown. One of the problems with the movie is with Blade. Not the character himself, he’s still pretty cool and Wesley Snipes is great. I mean that this doesn’t feel like his movie. In the other two movies, it was pretty clear he was the guy in charge, especially in Blade II when he made it clear to the vampires he formed a truce with that he was not someone you screw with. But in this one, he just kinda gets shunted off for several other characters. To their credit, Marvel would get better at ensemble films (The Avengers, ‘nuff said), but in this one, it just feels sad. We watched this movie because we want more of Blade. But it feels like they put him in the back seat to focus more on other characters. He’s the title character for fuck’s sake, and yet he feels like he’s a side character in his own movie. Just like what happened with Tom and Jerry...

What doesn’t help either is that the film is one of those “too many things happening for its own good” films. The movie’s got too much going on and it feels confusing. What’s this film about? Is it about Blade fighting Dracula with the Nightstalkers? Is it about the vampire world finally getting the law to crack down on Blade? Is it about the vampire’s plans to completely subjugate the world? It doesn’t seem to know which one it wants to focus on, which really hurts considering that this is supposed to be the biggest threat that the vampire hunters of the world ever faced, and yet Dracula seems like less of a legitimate threat than Deacon Frost in the first movie or the Reaper virus in the second. And it’s not the only third film in a superhero film series to have this problem, as X-Men: The Last Stand had this same problem with too much happening. Again, Marvel at least got better at juggling multiple plotlines in superhero movies with their cinematic universe, so there is that.

There’s a lot of other problems big and small, and a good chunk of them can probably be traced back to Wesley Snipes. The production of this film was pretty screwed up, and a lot of it is due to him. David S. Goyer, who wrote all the Blade films including this one, ended up directing it when no one else wanted to take the job. Snipes was unhappy with Goyer’s decision to direct, and both he and Kris Kristofferson were unhappy with the script, which is probably why Kristofferson’s character is killed off early on. (Reminds me of what they did with RoboCop’s partner in RoboCop 3, another third movie in a series that sucked.) Not only that, but Snipes was hostile to Goyer as well as Ryan Reynolds and Jessica Biel; at one point, Hannibal King says “He doesn’t like me, does he?”, which was not Hannibal talking about Blade, but Reynolds talking about Snipes. Snipes also apparently refused to leave his trailer for any scenes that didn’t show his face, so his stunt double did a lot of the Blade scenes. His working relationship with Goyer got so bad that he called him a racist several times for no reason and refused to speak to him, communicating only in Post-It notes. The fact that the final film got finished and is... watchable... is pretty impressive.

This film, sadly, killed off the Blade franchise. New Line Cinema’s problems with Wesley Snipes led to them making a short-lived TV show on Spike TV with someone else playing the Daywalker, and then Snipes got sent to prison for tax evasion and the Blade character’s film rights reverted to Marvel during his prison term. He’s been in talks with Marvel Studios to bring the character back, but so far they’ve said they have no plans for the character in the future. Here’s hoping we get more Blade in the future.

I should also mention that the version I saw was the unrated cut, which doesn’t really add more violence or swears or other things cut for an MPAA rating as all the Blade movies were rated R. It has some more plot and character stuff, but that doesn’t help the movie much when compared to the theatrical version. The biggest change is the ending, which includes the infamous shot of Blade’s opening eyes being superimposed over his face when Snipes refused to open his eyes in the scene.

This movie’s a mess, plain and simple. It is without a doubt the weakest film in the Blade trilogy, which sucks because it could have been better. If they had trimmed some of the plotlines and focused more on Blade than his companions, it would have been better. Like Mimic 3, I don’t hate the film, I just find it disappointing with how it could have been better. For what it is, it’s still watchable, but it’s just a muddled mess of a movie. Not sure if I’d recommend it. I’d definitely recommend the other two Blade films.

Also, if any of you are hoping for me to review more Marvel movies as part of this resolution, you may be out of luck, sadly. I’ve seen all the Marvel Cinematic Universe films, as I had to catch up in time for Avengers: Infinity War, as well as all the X-Men films and spinoffs and the 2003 Hulk, which I actually really liked, even more than some MCU films (to which someone will say “it’s okay, you can just say Thor: The Dark World”). ...Although I haven’t seen the Amazing Spider-Man films yet...

Next time: How about a GOOD comic book movie from 1997?

#David's resolution #Blade: Trinity

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Does The Many Saints of Newark Begin a New Chapter of The Sopranos?

https://ift.tt/39ZMSFm

This article contains light spoilers for The Many Saints of Newark.

The Sopranos prequel film, The Many Saints of Newark is David Chase’s return to the New Jersey city where his families lived, worked, and occasionally breathed their last. The film focuses on Christopher Moltisanti’s (Michael Imperioli) father Dickie Molitisanti (Alessandro Nivola), and his struggle with doing the right thing against things that have to be done right. He is very supportive of the film’s most important supporting role. Michael Gandolfini, the 22-year-old son of James Gandolfini, plays a young Tony Soprano.

While the film doesn’t explore Christopher’s claim that his father, Tony’s hero, was a junkie, it does fill in many of the plot points which lead to events in the series. But not all. Not even close. The young Tony Soprano is only a pinky swear away from living a legitimate life, varsity sweater or not.

Alan Taylor directed the pilot for The Sopranos and it looks like he’s just helmed the maiden voyage of what we hope will be a series of films bridging The Many Saints of Newark to the influential HBO series. David Case has mentioned in interviews that he’s now open to this line of thinking, 14 years after the series cut to black.

Taylor’s project is directing the pilot of the upcoming Interview with the Vampire series, which will delve deeply into the books of Anne Rice. He also directed the pilot of Mad Men, introduced dragons to Game of Thrones, and framed memorable episodes of Deadwood, Rome, Nurse Jackie, Lost, Sex and the City, and The West Wing. The former history professor might appreciate a revisionist retelling of the responses to Thor: The Dark World (2013) and Terminator Genisys (2015), but plumbed deep, dark street life in Kill the Poor (2003), and commonplace criminals grounded in concrete comedy in Palookaville (1995) which starred gangster genre favorite William Forsythe.

The Many Saints of Newark director Alan Taylor broke bread with Den of Geek, speaking about Tony Soprano’s past, Dickie Moltisanti’s future, and Sylvio Dante’s hair piece.

Den of Geek: The Many Saints of Newark ends on a real mystery. Is there any chance for a sequel to the sequel?

Alan Taylor: Well, it’s funny, I don’t think David will ever make anything where it doesn’t end with, “Okay, what happens or what just happened?” David Chase will always leave things open-ended. So, I think the door will never close. It was funny making this. I thought it was going to be a one-shot thing, but David seems to be thinking about possible sequels. And I do think there’s a “Tony Soprano, the young gangster” movie to be made, that we haven’t made yet because, in ours, we didn’t get there.

Will Michael Gandolfini be able to do that?

It would be really tough to be an actor playing Tony Soprano and not be Michael Gandolfini.

I agreed with David Chase about The Sopranos being a comedy. But did you have that mindset on set?

We’ve all drunk deep at the well of Scorsese, and humor is never absent. When things get to be their most extreme is when humor sort of breaks out, in that tone of that world. That’s partly a Scorsese thing. It’s partly maybe an American thing, inappropriate humor at violent moments. Certainly, humor was all the way through the series and hopefully there’s some of that in the movie as well.

Because we tried to capture the tones of the series and bring them in and the humor of it, but also the off-kilter weirdness. This dreaminess, that slightly surreal quality that sometimes came into the show. I love the fact that we have scenes that may or may not have actually taken place. Who knows whether Dickie Moltisanti actually coached a baseball team or whether that’s just a delusion?

In the series you use malapropisms and you explore comedy more openly. Is it easier to explore on TV than it is in film?

No, humor can be anywhere you want it or not want it to be. I think humor was a sustained, crucial element of the show from the beginning. From the pilot on, you had characters that were almost comic relief, like Ray Abruzzo’s Carmine Jr., the malaprop guy. To me, their humor is a big part of this movie. John Magaro handling his toupee is Sopranos’ humor to me and Paulie being worried about his mustard-colored leisure suit when they’re doing something really shitty to somebody is also the tone of the show. So, to me, it’s there.

I read there was a shot filmed that was not used with Edie Falco. Can you tell me anything else about it?

Movies

How The Many Saints of Newark Almost Brought Carmela Soprano Back

By Alec Bojalad and 1 other

I’m already starting to think it was not a great idea to, to say that much. It’s one of those things that I mentioned, because I tend to be candid and brutally honest. Movies are made and you’re not quite sure of the shape while you’re making it, sometimes. The beginning we have right now was a stroke of genius that David came up with very late in the game. We had an earlier beginning that we actually had shot, but we replaced it with this opening, and it seemed to shape the movie more and contain the movie more and felt more necessary.

So, sadly Edie doesn’t appear, but it was a great excuse to bring her in. We got to put her through hair and makeup and wardrobe and she became Carmela again for a second. But yeah, it’s just part of the brutal process of finding the movie along the way.

You play a lot with foreshadowing, does Christopher come into the world knowing Tony is going to kill him one day with two fingers?

Well, it depends on if you’re an atheist like me, or that woman sitting at the table with them who tells us something that I’m almost willing to believe: “Sometimes babies, when they come into this world, they know all kinds of stuff on the other side.” I love the fact that she’s talking about the other side, meaning the other side of death. But she’s also talking about the other side of, like: on HBO. You know we’re in the movies now but he knows things from TV that most people don’t know. My favorite foreshadow is less supernatural than that. There’s a scene where young Tony, played by William Ludwig, not by Michael, turns to his uncle and says “I saw a guy get shot in the back. I don’t want that to happen to me.” I don’t know how you read the final scene of The Sopranos series, but I know how I read the final scene. So, to me that’s foreshadowing

I understand you and David Chase disagree on this.

Who does he think he is? Yeah, it’s funny. We disagree on that and I think it’s okay to disagree. I’ve spoken to him. He will not commit to what happened in that room. When he tells it, it’s like every possibility is there in Tony’s life, and he just turns the TV off. But to me, I’m committed to the idea that Tony was shot in the back of the head by a guy wearing a Members Only jacket. I’ve got my reasons for thinking that. So, I’m just going to agree to disagree.

The Sopranos’ Best End Credit Songs

By Shawn Laib

The Sopranos: Explaining the Final Scene

By Jamie Andrew

But there was one line of dialogue in the whole history of Sopranos that was set as dialogue and then repeated as voice over. It’s only happened once, I think. And that was when (Bobby) Bacala says “when the bullet’s got your name on it. You probably don’t hear it coming.” I’m going to go with that and say that’s what happened at Holsten’s.

You’ve directed some of my favorite death scenes. You killed Caesar (in Rome), Ned Stark (in Game of Thrones), Christopher and Dickie, and they’re all stylistically unique.

Don’t forget Wild Bill Hickok (in Deadwood). As an episodic director, you never quite know what you’re going to get when you go in. When you see you’re killing a major character that is like you won the lottery. When I got to do Ned Stark, that was great.

Is there anything different about going into shooting an epic scene like that than the mundane scenes that lead up to it?

Maybe I’m just perverse in my head, but one of the guiding things for doing something like the Ned Stark death was to deliberately shoot it in a kind of mundane way. I wanted the angle that, where his head gets chopped off, to be a coverage angle that we’ve already been using, no special, heightened dramatic angles for the big event. I think a lot of people watched that scene, not ready to believe that he was going to die because knew he was the main character.

Of course, anybody who read the novels knew what was coming at some point, but a lot of people thought, “OK, got it, a big TV show, here is the main character.” So, I was trying not to telegraph the inevitable or to over-dramatize it. In that one, I was actually shooting his coverage almost like it was a conversation.

When I killed Caesar, I just tried to do it with historical accuracy. We did all this research about who stabbed him when and where, and tried to match the reality of that gruesome killing. There are a few ways worse to go than being stabbed to death by a bunch of people you know. Trying to capture that feeling and just be true to it. I probably got stylized with that a bit more. I remember there were top shots and slow motion and things, but every death is different, I guess.

How do you think long-time Anne Rice fans are going to respond to the upcoming Interview with the Vampire?

Boy, that’s a pressing question on my calendar today. I signed up for it because I loved her book so much. I remember I just moved to New York, I read Interview with the Vampire, and it kind of blew my mind. The feeling I got from the book was: “Okay, you’ve seen a bunch of vampire stories, but that’s all bullshit. Here’s the truth. This is the real thing.” She did it amazingly well in that first novel and then built an empire out of it.

I’m hoping people will find things to love in the version we’re going to do. That’s true to that. But also, the writer, Roland Jones, has made some changes that I think deepen and do some very intriguing things with the basic story. We’re working with the Rice estate and they’re on board with it. I think we’re carrying the original appeals of the novel, but I think we’re also making some changes that make it worth exploring again.

The mixture of vampires and gangsters is too rarely explored. I love the movie Innocent Blood.

I’m the guy. Yeah, that should be my next genre would be the vampire gangster movie. I’m sure there’s been a few.

Did you know wise guys growing up?

No, I grew up in small-town Canada, even though it was the capital. I lived in Italy as a child, so I feel like I have a real affection for Italian culture and Italian-American culture that I think comes out of that early period. I was dropped into a school where only Italian was spoken as a kid. I think that’s one of my connections to it, and I live in New York. I live in Brooklyn. I used to live in Soho right next to Little Italy. So, those places were still big social clubs at the time and that’s where I was hanging out. So, at least I brushed up against it.

You directed the pilot where Tony says he’s coming in at the end, and you’re here at the end of this movie. Do you think Tony should have finished college?

Wow, that’s just one of the small questions that raises the big question of: Did Tony have to turn out the way he did? I think the meaning of our movie is that no one is locked in a destiny, but it’s amazing how often we feel that way and how often it turns out that way. Tony should have finished college. Tony should have gotten away from his mother. Tony should have done a lot of things that might have kept his horizons broader than they were. Luckily, he didn’t and we have a great TV show as a result, but I think he could have been a happier person with less blood on his hands.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

The Many Saints of Newark will be released in theaters on October 1, and will be available on HBO Max for 31 days from the theatrical release.

The post Does The Many Saints of Newark Begin a New Chapter of The Sopranos? appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2Y5jECs

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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sunnflowerhobi · 6 years

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Family Meeting

➯ vampire!bts + poly!bts + prompts 30 (h-holy shit, why-why is there no reflection?) + 53 (“don’t go out there, especially once the sun goes down”, “why not?”, “you don’t wanna know”) + 62 (humans are idiots)

requested [by private message]

/gasp/ could it… could it be?? is she… is she doing another late Halloween request on… on Christmas?? ((yes, yes she is)) (is she also speaking about herself on third person???) (sí señor)

🌼 masterlist 🌼

“Your house is creepy.”

Did he... did he actually say that out loud? You look around to see three perplexed faces looking at him in amusement, with a very entertained Namjoon huffing in a mix between surprise and diversion.

So he did.

You start to wonder if any of your boyfriends would raise objections if you killed him right here, right now. They could harness his blood anyway so it would be a win-win situation, right?

“Don’t” a deep, low voice says solemnly behind you, though you could swear that when you look his way, you can see Seokjin trying to hide a chuckle. The sudden realisation that almost every person on this house can read your mind finally hits you; while the only one who luckily can’t, is currently standing a few metres ahead of you. He’s now examining an old painting with great curiosity and remains unaware of your ominous plans. With pursed lips and severe eyes, you give him one last look before turning around to face Jin.

“I told you all that this would be a bad idea” you scream-whisper in annoyance. “He’s seriously beyond all bearing.”

“Y/n… he’s your brother!”

“I don’t care if he’s the fucking president, he’s still insufferable. But worry not, you’ll soon see it for yourselves.”

The sound of curtains being aggressively slided aside catches your attention and prevents Jin from giving you any response. The guy in front of you is now absently looking out a huge window, probably to the thick, dense forest that extends itself over the backyard of the house. You sigh before focusing back on Jin, who is smirking.

“It was just a dumb comment. Relax a bit, it didn’t even bother us, and honestly I don’t think he’s that-”

“Is all that ground yours?”

You’re forced to concentrate back on your importunate sibling, who’s making your annoyance grow a bit more every second.

“Yeah, sort of. I mean, we never really go there” Yoongi, who had been silently watching throughout the previous conversation, comments on an apparently nonchalant tone. But the hidden wariness on his voice does not go unnoticed. Jin, Namjoon and you raise an eyebrow while your brother’s eyes seem to sparkle with curiosity.

“And why is that?”

Yoongi seems to think about it for a while. You remain silent, wondering what could he be up to.

“We just... don’t.”

But his interlocutor doesn’t seem to be satisfied with his answer, because he shifts his weight from one feet to another, almost confused.

“Yeah but... why?”

Even you’re surprised by the way Yoongi’s eyes darken, making his whole face look nearly scary. He takes a few steps ahead and lowers his voice before clearing everything out for the other three of you.

“Look buddy, if you appreciate your life, or if at the very least you appreciate having all parts of your body; don’t go out there. Especially once the sun goes down.”

Your brother’s body stiffens, his whole frame becoming tense; and he seems to meditate those words for a while. But finally, he decides to make one more try...

“Why not?”

Yoongi lets out a distressed growl at his question. However, he once again adopts that mysterious, almost shadowy appearance and smirks. A dark, sinister grin. And this time, the sight alone is enough to make you shiver and his next words would have sent you running for your life if you didn’t know he was just messing around with your fastidious guest.

“Oh, trust me... you don’t wanna know.”

That seems to finally be enough to stop any upcoming questions... at least for a while, that is.

“I’m going to murder him.”

The mocking smile that you respond Jin with does nothing but infuriate him a bit more. He reclines himself against a counter and looks at you with an exhausted look on his face. You were all in the kitchen now, trying to take a rest from your brother’s incessant antics and distasteful comments.

“It was just a dumb comment” you begin, in an exaggeratedly teasing tone, “relax a bit, it didn’t even bother us. and, honestly,” you make sure to enunciate your following words excruciatingly slow; “I don’t think he’s that bad.”

Even you would have kicked your ass, however, all he does is let out a loud, frustrated sigh that sounds almost like a snarl.

“He really is a pain in the ass huh…” Jungkook murmurs under his breath, looking ahead absently, as if he was already choosing which knife to stab him with.

“I don’t want to say that I told you-”

“I mean come on” Yoongi quickly interrupts you, “'so have you always been interested in creepy decorations or is it some trend I’m not aware of?’ Babe, are you completely sure you two are related?”

His disgusted tone makes Jimin, who had been silent all that time, chuckle to himself before wrapping one arm around your waist and the other around Hoseok’s, who was merely looking at everyone with furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips, not bothered enough to say anything.

“Come on guys, it’s just dessert and then he’s leaving. We’ve already made it this far!” his voice is surprisingly optimistic. “So come on, the faster we get out of here the faster this all will be over.“ Everyone nods in agreement, and with lost eyes and a lower voice, he weakly adds; “plus... we’ve let poor Tae alone with it.”

You had never seen Taehyung’s face light up as fast as it did when you all emerged from the kitchen.

But you had entered the room just in time to hear “… and that’s why I think the government keeps aliens a secret, you know?” and you were honestly not sure you would’ve wanted to hear the rest of that conversation.

"Maybe he has escaped area 51 and has been pretending to be your brother all this time. That would explain it all, don’t you think?” and though you playfully hit Yoongi’s arm, you still can’t help but chuckle at his whispered words.

“Oh, ice cream...” Your brother’s eyes focus on what Jimin and Hoseok are carrying, and then his lips purse for a brief second. “Not my favourite, but I can deal with it.”

At least five distressed sighs can be heard after his statement.

“You know, I was telling Taehyung about... ab... uhhh...” and although nobody is complaining about his abrupt silence, it is somewhat surprising. Especially because of the way his face loses any trace of colour and his mouth is left haphazardly opening and closing, without making any sound; his eyes focused on something behind your back. “H-holy shit, why-why is there no reflection?”

Oh.

There’s a long pause, only interrupted by Namjoon’s soft murmur of “I told you to take off all mirrors, you idiots” and Yoongi’s distressed “dude, why do we even fucking have them?” and your impressive efforts to avoid reminding him that you also lived there; because probably they would turn the tables around and ask why hadn’t you taken them off then.

Your poor, shocked brother is then met with Hoseok’s threatening smirk, one that clearly shows his long fangs, and after Jimin and Tae had imitated him, he ends up looking like a sheet of paper. He finally seems to put the pieces together, and that’s what it takes to make him run away like a scaredy cat.

“I uhhh- I remembered that I... I have to leave!!” He stumbles on his words and you almost feel bad. “Plus I’m not feeling too well and- it might be diarrhea! So- so I better go home already” he manages to say on a choked voice before hurriedly picking up his coat, ready to leave.

You swear to all the gods above that you do your very best not to laugh at his excuse but come on; diarrhea?! Yoongi, Jungkook and Jimin nonchalantly laughing their asses off behind you do not help at all.

“Do not worry about me, I know where the door is!!”

After that he practically runs up to the door, almost falling on his way, and you’re left alone with seven men dying of laughter. The loud thump of the door and his hurried, loud footsteps after reveal that he ended up fully running out of the house and that does nothing but fuel them, and you can’t avoid end up cackling too.

“Well, good thing is, I don’t think we’ll have to see him in a long, long time” Jimin manages to declare.

“God, humans are idiots.”

You raise an eyebrow at Jungkook’s statement, and he sheepishly smiles at you, with his arms snaking their way around your waist.

“Except you, of course, baby”

All you let out is a “mhm” while you roll your eyes, before Jin breaks the moment and starts making the really important questions;

“So guys... does this mean we get to have all the ice cream for us?”

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quinnhayden · 7 years

Note

21 and 42 for the 50 prompts thing? Steve and Bucky? If you're doing the prompts, please.

21. “Sometimes, being a complete nerd comes in handy.”

Note: Since the term nerd didn’t actually come around until the 50s, I’m using the closest word the 40s had which is egghead.

Just as Bucky’s about to stand up and make another round for patrol, Quinn stumbles out of the tent. He can’t help but watch fondly as she takes a few minutes to rub the sleep out of her eyes, yawn widely, and clutch her coat closer when the cold of October nips at her skin. After she’s a little more awake, she shuffles over to stand in front of him, and then shoves her hand in front of his face to help him stand to his feet.

“Did you have a bad dream?” Bucky asks worriedly because, most of the time, if she ever wakes up before dawn, she flops down next to him and sidles up nice and cozy in front of the fire. Only if she has a bad dream does she want to be up and walk around.

“I have to piss,” she says bluntly and he does have the decency to cover his mouth when he cracks up so he doesn’t wake up the Commandos. “Hey, I don’t have to pussyfoot around until the sun is up.” She pokes him in the stomach. “And it’s not like I can head off on my lonesome because someone is superstitious, so you’ll have to be my escort.”

Bucky immediately sobers and scowls at her. “No. I’m worried because the town we came from has a damn killer on the loose that takes ladies from their beds and does God knows what before he cuts their throats.”

Bucky shudders when he remembers what the SSR rookie translated from Romanian to them. Women were found naked, marks of teeth littered across their bodies because their killer chewed them to hell, and their throats cut and drained of blood. Hydra’s supposed nearby presence is what made headquarters send the Commandos in to check it out. If they’d known ahead of time what was up in this town, Bucky would’ve pleaded for the top brass to leave Quinn in London.

“We’re away from the town,” she points out quietly.

“I know, but…” He hunches in on himself a little, feels vulnerable. “I don’t want to take the chance. None of us do, but me especially. You don’t know what it’d do to me if I ever saw you end up that way.”

Quinn’s entire expression softens. “James Barnes, you’re the sweetest man on the face of the planet and I hope your momma knows what a damn fine man she raised.” She shoves her hand back out toward him which he quickly takes in his own. “C’mon, let’s take the scenic route. I can hold it.”

Under the full moon, the two of them walk around the campsite, hand-in-hand. As nice as it is to walk around with one of his sweethearts, he can’t…settle down completely. He does try, he swears to God, and tries to convince himself that it’s only because Halloween is close and he’s spooked because of the murders.

“How about you pick out a tree?” Bucky would feel a lot better back inside their tent where Steve is and where he can hold Quinn close. “Then we can head back and wake up Dum-Dum and Monty to take patrol, yeah?”

“Can we fool around a little when we’re back in the tent?” she asks hopefully.

“You bet your ass we can,” he answers.

Quinn kisses him on the cheek before she zeroes in on a tree that she can hide herself behind. He starts to whistle a little tune to let her have a little more privacy. Almost a year she’s been with them and he still can’t help but feel sorry for her—one woman with a bunch of men. They’re almost always in the middle of the woods, they’ve dealt with each and every season, and she has to eat, drink, sleep, piss, and shit the same as the fellas but with more of the stigma. Plus, she has to bleed every damn month. She’s a saint to deal with all that she does.

Bucky switches tunes, but stops because he hasn’t heard any noise out of Quinn. She’s learned to be quieter, but there should be some noise. “Quinn?” There’s no response from her. For a second, he thinks about if he should head behind the tree to check on her. It would be awkward if she’s in the middle of a piss, but he’s also seen her naked, been extremely up close and personal with the most intimate parts of her, so he gets over it quickly.

Bucky heads toward the other side of the tree and starts to say, “Quinn, hey—” but stops when he spots Quinn sprawled out in the dirt, unconscious. “Quinn,” he says worriedly but there’s the snap of a branch so close his head snaps to the side to see what made the noise.

He doesn’t have time to block the hit to the side of the head and the world fades away.

When Bucky comes back to, it’s still dark outside so he prays he hasn’t been knocked out too long. He scrambles to his feet and his head that aches doesn’t appreciate the motion, but he can’t afford to lose any more time. Some maniac has Quinn and if he’d paid more attention, this wouldn’t have happened. He knew he should’ve sent her back to the tent when she came out. Bucky heads back to camp, rather than set off on his own like he wants to, because a team would be better than one man.

Bucky is close to panic when he finally wakes the rest of the Commandos up. He’s about ready to murder someone because of how long it takes them to wake up. A gun shot in the air definitely does the trick. When Bucky informs them of what’s happened, the panic that had them up and out of their tents doesn’t fade. Steve looks as horrified as Bucky probably does.

“How the hell do we find this asshole?” Dum-Dum booms as they all make a mad dash for their weapons.

“Small town, Dum-Dum,” Jim says in response. “There can’t be many places for him to hide.”

This little town nestled near Bran is a small part of Transylvania and Transylvania resides within Romania. Come to think of it, like Jim said, there shouldn’t have been that many damn places for the murderer to hide unless—

Bucky’s eyes settle on the castle that looms in the distance. Bran Castle is the technical name for it, but it’s better known as Dracula’s Castle.

“Vampire,” Bucky blurts and why no one’s put the pieces together yet, he doesn’t know. He feels dumb now that he’s actually realized it. Everyone looks over at Bucky, confused, and he starts to wave wildly as he explains, “He bites the ladies and drains them of blood, right? And Dracula’s Castle is up there. This fucker thinks he’s a vampire or some shit.”

Everyone stares at Bucky and he’s about to snap at them when Dum-Dum says, “Dracula’s not real.”

“I know that, nimrod,” he snarls. “But the writer based his castle off that one—Bran Castle.” He points at the castle in the distance.

“That castle’s a hospital now, Buck,” Steve counters. “We were there earlier.”

They were there earlier. Quinn wanted to see the hospital for herself, see if they needed any help from a nurse while the Commandos tried to find some information about why Hydra would be in the area. “That rookie from the SSR, didn’t he say those ladies were let out of the hospital a few days before they were killed?” Someone who worked at the hospital, they would’ve seen Quinn today.

It clicks for Steve, too. “We need to see who works at that hospital.“ If they can find someone that’s worked the same days that Quinn and the other ladies have been there, they could possibly find their killer. "Dum-Dum, hurry up and fire up the truck. We don’t have time to hike it there.”

Turns out that they didn’t even need to make it all the way up to the castle. After they turned off the truck, in the dead of the night, it was easy for Steve to hear Quinn’s short scream before it was muffled. It really is a shame that the town didn’t have a super soldier of their own because there probably wouldn’t have been so many bodies piled up if they did.

If Steve hadn’t thrown himself in the way to take the kidnapper out himself, Bucky would’ve put a bullet between his eyes the second they tore down the door. It takes the bravest Commando—which is Quinn—to make Steve stand down before he pummels the doctor to death. She spotted the patch of Hydra on him and shows it to Steve.

“We have to question him,” she explains quietly. Steve stares at her tear-stained face for a minute and turns to aim his punch that’d been headed for the doctor to the wall. His fist puts a hole in the wall. Bucky can’t blame him—he wants to do the same. “Y’all don’t have to be so mad. The worst he was able to do to me was bite me.” She kicks at the unconscious doctor with her foot petulantly.

Bucky was so focused on the fury that he didn’t even stop to check on her. He feels terrible and quickly rushes over to touch the mark on her neck that she reveals to everyone. There are a few sympathetic hisses of pain. “Jesus,” he mutters. “How bad does it hurt?”

“I can’t even feel it past my extreme need to pee. Someone help me find a fucking outhouse or somethin’. That’s the reason I’m crying. Gotta pee so bad it hurts.”

Steve and Bucky are the ones who go outside and watch Quinn waddle behind a tree. As she does, Steve breathes out a sigh of relief and presses his forehead to Bucky’s shoulder. “All this started because of Dracula’s Castle.” Now that they know Quinn’s okay, the total absurdity of this situation drops down on them, and they both start to giggle like two schoolgirls. “And none of us would’ve ever figured it out if wasn’t for how you always have your nose stuck in a book.”

“Sometimes, being a complete egghead comes in handy.”

42. “I’m only here to establish an alibi.”

It hasn’t been this bad for a few months. Bucky closes his eyes and can only see his hand wrapped around Quinn’s throat. He can’t stay in the same bed as her. So, he replaces himself in her arms with a pillow and then sneaks out to the kitchen where he zeroes in on Quinn’s chocolate stash. He takes the last two bars and walks back out to flop down on the couch to puts on a documentary that he can immerse himself in. Neil deGrasse Tyson’s smooth voice is always helpful.

An hour later, when it’s almost four in the morning, Bucky can hear the bedroom door open and looks over his shoulder to see Quinn quickly dart in the bathroom. The shower starts up the next second and he frowns, but turns back to his show. He didn’t hear her talk on the phone, but maybe Steve or Natalia or someone texted her and she’s needed on their mission. He could’ve sworn he heard from her that the mission wasn’t that much of a hassle, but he knows from experience how quickly shit can hit the fan.

Bucky’s theory, however, is blown to pieces when the front door opens a little bit past four and Steve walks inside their apartment. He looks exhausted, but there’s no limp, there aren’t any visible bruises or cuts, and there’s no wounded puppy look, so Steve’s okay. Quinn’s not needed on a mission, so Bucky’s confused why she’s up so early. Maybe he infected her with his bad mood and she woke up from her own dreams.

“Everyone’s up, huh?” Steve shouldn’t sound as fond as he does. “Couldn’t sleep?” he questions and Bucky nods. He doesn’t explain exactly why he couldn’t sleep to Steve. “Okay,” Steve adds quietly before he heads back toward the bathroom. “I’ll see if Quinn’s okay to share. You can too, y’know,” he tacks on. “Maybe it’ll help you feel better.”

“I have chocolate,” Bucky informs Steve and holds up the half-devoured bar. The wrapper from the first one is next to Bucky on the couch. He wonders if he can convince Steve and Quinn to leave him alone on the couch. It’ll be hard to look at Quinn in the eye. Bucky wants to be miserable in peace. Steve knows Bucky too well because stops behind the couch and leans down to kiss the top of Bucky’s head. It briefly makes Bucky’s skin crawl—he doesn’t deserve kindness. Steve quickly leans away and heads back to the bathroom.

Bucky can hear the low murmur of conversation, but doesn’t try to focus his attention on it to hear. Instead, he takes another bite of sweet, sweet chocolate and focuses on Neil deGrasse Tyson. He doesn’t realize that the bathroom door opened back up until Steve drops down on the couch next to Bucky. Bucky opens his mouth to ask what’s up, but Steve quickly whips his phone out, wraps an arm around Bucky’s shoulders, and takes a selfie of them. The flash puts spots in Bucky’s line of vision and he shoves Steve away from him.

“What the fuck, Steve?” Bucky snarls and rubs at his eyes like that’ll help clear up the spots. “Jesus, turn off the flash next time. What was that for, anyway? Why are you here instead of in the shower?”

“I’m only here to establish an alibi,” Steve answers which isn’t an answer at all. He locks his phone and stands up from the couch. “I think I’ll see if I can find a place that’s open this late…or is it early?” He hums. “Anyway, I don’t want to be here when she’s out of the shower.”

Bucky’s more confused than usual—and he’s an amnesiac so the usual for him is pretty damn bad. For some reason, he feels like he’s made a critical mistake, but he doesn’t know what it could possibly be. “Steve? A little help would be appreciated here, sweetheart.”

Steve, as headed back out the door, turns around and stares at Bucky. There’s a serious expression on his face, but there’s mischievousness behind his eyes. “Quinn’s cramps woke her up,” Steve informs Bucky. Then, oh-so-innocently, he asks, “Hey, was that the last of the chocolate? Should I stop by the store to get some more?” Almost on cue, the shower turns off and Bucky stares down in horror at the now-empty candy wrapper.

Oh God. Quinn’s period started. She’s not an early riser the way Steve is and she’s up early because her cramps are that bad. Quinn, by the way, has an exceptional tolerance for pain because of the super soldier serum. Chocolate is and always has been her relief when her period starts…and Bucky ate the last of it.

Steve cackles before he’s out the door. Behind him, Bucky hears the bathroom door open, and peers back over his shoulder to watch Quinn shuffle out. She looks exhausted, pained, and ready to cry—Bucky’s about to cry with her. She heads directly to the kitchen and Bucky takes the opportunity to shove the wrappers down between the couch cushions, but that won’t help him. Bucky will be her prime suspect because the two of them have more of a sweet tooth than Steve’s ever had.

“Bucky,” Quinn says slowly, loudly, and sweetly—too sweet.

Bucky Barnes is fucked.

#happy halloween!#have a spooky-ish prompt fill!#idek how to tag this #taylor answers magical people #my fic #menstruation tw #prompt fill

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orionsangel86 · 7 years

Text

12x09 - Episode Review - Too Much Heart Always Was His Problem.

Can I just say that as a staunch Cas girl this episode made me so happy. (I’m not a masochist promise) If you watched this episode thinking that Cas was getting a raw deal or that he was struggling or in pain then YES you are right! He was! But this is his story arc at play and in the first episode back of the second half of this season the showrunner decided that he would take front and centre stage. If you don’t believe me re-watch the episode, Castiel was its emotional centre.

I love Andrew Dabb for this reason. We have at least two Cas-centric episodes coming up and this was not supposed to be one of them, but of course how could he resist not focusing on his fave?

I will explain and get onto my review in a moment but I just wanted to emphasise this (and maybe also rub it in a bit in my own smug way against the Cas haters lol).

Anyway. Review under the cut...

Castiel (aka My Beautiful Angel of Humanity, Angel of Tears, Angel of my broken fucking heart and fictional love of my life)

Now as far as a standalone episode goes, the first 20 minutes bored me honestly, the last 20 minutes were awesome. It was rather unbalanced, with the only moments in the first half that really got me interested were Cas’s moments. I guess I’m just not a fan of government related stories or seeing the Winchesters stuck in one place not saying anything. But I enjoyed it overall. If it wasn’t for Misha basically owning that episode I wouldn’t have liked it because the escaped fugitive with the soldiers chasing after you thing just doesn’t do it for me, but Castiel getting a heavy emotional arc? Oh yeah. That does it. That hits the sweet spot.

This is an episode where Sam and Dean spend the majority of their screen time in cold defiant silence, before playing up their serial killer vibe as fugitives in their escape plan. Where Mary Winchester spends most of the episode seemingly going through the motions (anyone see major similarities with Buffy in season 6 *cue the singing*) and not exactly expressing herself in the best of ways, and where the remaining lead characters are the secret service men; one of whom only cares about getting info and the other who “wants them punished… wants to look Dean Winchester in the eye and wants him to feel it” and the British Men of Letters who, lets be honest, are a prime example of highly functioning sociopaths (to quote Sherlock) in smart suits with British accents. Castiel stands out because where every other characters primary motivations seems to be to help themselves (whether it be an escape plan, an ambition, a goal or just a distraction technique) Castiel spends his time only thinking of others. His selflessness and feelings of worthlessness have come right back to the front line and his struggle is evident throughout. It breaks my heart to watch him blame himself time and time again for things that were primarily out of his control. Of course this all escalates until Cas makes a decision that whilst still in line with his lack of self care, is very selfish in a way.

The episode was written this way purposely (as I will never believe that Dabb writes Cas moments without a very clear intent behind them). He has been framed as the heart of this episode, he wears his heart on his sleeve and it builds to the final moments where Cas ways up his choices and takes action against Billie. Once again, in true Dabb fashion, we are shown Castiel being brought down again and again (though this time by internal forces rather than the external forces of 11x10) until he makes a very rash decision based on the same principal as always with Castiel. To save a Winchester. What will the repercussions of this be? Billie said there could be consequences on a cosmic scale. I guess we will have to wait and see.

The initial argument with Mary, the conversation with Crowley, the failed vampire hunt, the phone call with Dean, asking for the help of the BMOL, the long drawn on moment where he watches the Winchesters reunite with emotion heavy on his face, finding out that they had dealt with their lives once again. All of these moments escalated in Cas’s mind to the point where he became fed up. He wasn’t going to lose the people he loves. His speech at the end had me in tears:

“You know this world? This sad, doomed little world. It needs you. It needs every last Winchester it can get, and I won't let you die. I won't let any of you die. And I won't let you sacrifice yourselves, you mean too much to me. To everything. Yeah, you made a deal. A stupid deal, and I broke it. You're welcome.”

Oh Cas. In his own mind, this is his motivation in a nutshell. Once upon a time Cas may have been motivated by a desire to do good for the world. To ultimately be a force for good for all humanity but he hasn’t been that in a long time. His motivations have closed in and become very personal. His motivations are preserving the lives of the Winchesters. It is the only part of him that is remotely selfish, and it is entirely rooted in love.

I just hope that this story arc for him develops to the point where he begins to see his own worth, because whilst the world may need the Winchesters, the Winchesters need him. Therefore the world needs him too.

It just occurred to me that in writing this I failed to bring up this moment:

Which was lovingly giffed for me by the awesome @godshipsit (here) and in which Misha kills me with his acting skills because LOOK at the emotion on his face. He has got them back, he sees the boys embrace their mother, and he looks on with this look of... what would you say this look is? Because it certainly doesn’t look like a guy who is just happy to have his friends back. No. That looks like a guy who is witnessing something that he longs for himself. That he feels he is separated from.

I swear to God if this season doesn’t at least end with a shot of the Winchesters all hugging and then Dean reaching an arm out and pulling Cas into that group hug I’m gonna be pissed. We need that now. After this look we definitely need it.

Mary Winchester

I said above that Mary is going through the motions, she is still struggling to fit in and even though she showed her desire to keep living at her last encounter with Billie, it is easy to tell that Mary is at a weak point at the moment. Like how Castiel is prone to make bad choices motivated by love, Mary is the same, and her offering up her own life was no different. It’s no wonder that Cas and Mary have been mirroring each other this season. They both put the brother’s lives in front of their own without much thought. I honestly thought for a while there at the end that she was gonna be killed off and I was prematurely so very angry at Dabb for that, but then I was rightly angry at Dabb for another reason anyway.

Her decision to work with the British Men of Letters will bite her in the ass of course, and for some reason the filming of it and the reveal that Mick was talking to Mary heavily reminded me of Sam’s conversation with Rowena at the end of 10x18. No good will come of this for any of them.

Sam and Dean

So I have admitted that the first 20 minutes of Winchester silent defiance bored me. Though I can appreciate the affect and filming style. If you wanna break a Winchester don’t torture them, put them in a small room and leave them there with nothing but their own thoughts for company. It will drive them crazy and they will do something drastic and stupid. I enjoyed the cabin scene and loved Sam’s “You’ll live” with the first aid box as well as his “we’re the guys who save the world”. Dean’s speech to Rick over the radio was scary. Dean definitely had his psychopath mask on “We’re not trapped out here with you, you’re trapped out here with us.” But ultimately, this all comes down to another stupid decision where a Winchester sacrifices himself to save the other. They didn’t specify which Winchester was gonna go, but lets be honest here, it was totally gonna be Dean. Dean would never let Sam give up his life for him. So Dean broke first and called Billie and offered his life to save his brother basically. Dabb is once again exploring this trend of Winchester co-dependency at its most toxic and portrays it once again as a negative thing (have I mentioned yet how much I love Dabb?) to the point where Cas calls them out on it. (I really loved Cas’ speech). Alas! I hear you cry! Will they ever learn? Well. Hopefully Dabb has a plan that includes the breakdown of the toxic co-dependency once and for all, as he continues to use it in his storylines as a bad thing and in no way romanticises it like it was in the early seasons. If this ties in with Castiel’s upcoming plot lines, this could get interesting.

I have to at least comment on the very few moments we got this episode where Dean seemed to show a hint of emotion underneath his cold exterior, because every moment (up until Mary offered herself up at least) was about Cas. The first being after the call with Cas when Sam asked “Are you gonna tell him?” to which he just answered “No”. This moment is telling because of what isn’t said. We don’t know at this point what Dean has done (because it is implied early on that it is indeed Dean who did this and instigated this escape) and the flat refusal to tell Cas isn’t because he doesn’t care about Cas at all, it’s the complete opposite, and this is evidenced later in the car scene. Dean’s refusal to tell Cas at that point how he escaped and cut him off quickly like he did was because it was too painful to even consider telling Cas that he was once again facing death. The second moment being when he first sees Cas in the woods before Sam hugs him, his face is of sheer relief and joy and yeah, when Cas goes in for the hug he smiles briefly but his attention is quickly focussed on Mary, which could be read negatively, and perhaps I am disappointed that we didn’t get more from that reunion (though we are being spoiled with Destiel hugs lately) but the kicker is when they are in the car. Once the car stutters to a halt and everyone looks around in confusion, Dean just turns and looks at Cas. We don’t see his face from the camera angle but my god that look is worth everything. Dean knows whats about to happen to him, he knows whats coming. That fleeting moment is Dean’s regret. Here:

Its everything unspoken between them. Its 6 months of complete isolation followed by only moments of reunion before this. It’s the pain and angst and heartbreak of Destiel summed up in 3 seconds of screen time. Its beautiful.

Other things

So the BMOL are interesting characters who you certainly wouldn’t trust with your life now. I do have some gripes about them though, and that is simply that I don’t get how this story started with a badass British woman taking down Sam Winchester and became two very generic looking white guys? Whats up with that? Why did they completely destroy Lady Toni’s character only to have her role be taken over by these two? Don’t get me wrong I am very intrigued by Mick and Ketch, but I miss Lady Toni (and by that I mean the Lady Toni from 11x23 and the summers fanfiction and NOT the Lady Toni from 12x01 and 12x02) Its irritating because surely Mick’s role could have just been her role?? But that’s my main issue. The other one is minor and more just a way of nursing any national pride I may have left after Brexit in that honestly we do not have two default settings of “extremely posh” and “Jason Statham style cockney” and we are not all evil sociopaths. I take a slight insult at the big bad this season being British People. Sorry America, but in the real world you guys are the ones with an evil villain running your country. We’re just going through a nasty divorce with Europe.

Crowley’s minor role was great. I enjoy his snark most of the time anyway but this line had me in stitches: “Sam and Dean, they're like herpes. Just when you think they're gone 'Hello' the boys are back leaving a trail of bodies in their wake. So wherever they are, whoever has Sam and Dean. In the immortal words of Lawrence Tureaud, 'I pity the fool.” Classic. I loved it.

I should at least thank Dabb for bringing Alesha back for a minor part. I’m glad her and her gorgeous brother are still living and doing their thing and really hope they make an appearance again.

I’m really upset about Billie’s death. She was an awesome character and I loved her take-no-bullshit attitude against the Winchester’s. I don’t think she deserved to die that way and I’m sad that Cas did it. Cas makes terrible choices when a Winchesters life is threatened. It’s sad but true. I hope that the only reason they killed her off was because of Lisa Berry’s commitments to Shadow Hunters rather than any desire to start killing off an awesome WOC character for the hell of it. This show needs more diversity. Another reason why I am clinging to the beautiful hunting twins.

My one other gripe was the lack of prayer. Where the hell were the prayers to Cas? Can he not hear prayers now? Or did the Winchesters once again suffer a major case of stupidity and forgetfulness in that they have an actual angel on their side who canonically hears prayers? What’s the deal? Someone ask Andrew Dabb to explain this because its gonna bother me as much as all his car stuff.

Aside from the minor gripes and death of Billie, it was a good episode (second half more than first) and Cas was amazing. As I’ve already said he was the heart of the episode and I need more like that where Cas’ emotions are a focal point. That speech… I just… in my watching notes I just typed “ahkgnrjagbrjhjrbrguragivbhf” as it seemed an accurate response for what I felt. We need more like that! Dammit Dabb don’t let us down!

Now I just need to get on and finish my actual Cas meta before the Cas episodes air as I still have so much to say about him and what I think Dabb is planning, but I’ll leave this here.

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veronicatheslayer · 7 years

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Do You Want To Build A Snow Seal? || Ricky and Veronica

Veronica and Ricky enjoy the snow.

Veronica had always had a full set of snow gear. Her parents had often insisted that they go skiing in the Alps and it had become a tradition. Wearing her warmest jacket, gloves and scarf, Veronica waited out the front of the Church for Ricky. All around her were kids throwing snowballs, building snow men and generally having a good time. She had to admit that this place was beginning to show a different side of things, at first she had just dismissed it. She had always been slightly religious but never enough to go to church. She had been at the Church when the snow started falling, helping them with some admin stuff, the most senior Priest, Father Duffy had convinced her to stay for the fun and she wasn't regretting it. As she saw Ricky's Jeep pull up in the snow, she pushed herself off the wall she was leaning on and crunched her way through the snow over to her friend. "Glad you could make it," she said with a gentle smile.

Church was a strange thing. Ricky's father had been a staunch Catholic and Ricky had halfway been raised in the church. But he was a selkie first and a catholic second. He wasn't entirely sure how the Church's doctrine applied to him. At the very least it was a constant reminder of the father he didn't speak to anymore. Seeing Veronica leaning against the wall he hopped out of the Jeep, pulling his light jacket around his broad frame and sweeping her into a tight hug "I'm not doing Bible study. But I'm totally here for some secular fun." He looked around at the kids laughing at the beaming faces of nuns good naturedly watching over them. A strange scene to find Veronica in but if she condoned of it it couldn't be all bad. "I believe I was promised cocoa?"

Hugging Ricky tightly back, Veronica couldn't help but smile. Somehow, despite whatever happened, Ricky never failed to cheer her up. It was one of her favourite things about him to be perfectly honest. "Don't worry, I don't plan on doing any Bible study either, but I don't think that is their intention. I think they genuinely just want people to have a good time, most of the nuns and the priests are from Ashford River and they got brought across here with the merge. They are surprisingly good people. I had my reservations too but just let them convince you." She smiled and nodded. "That is a good idea, lets get a hot drink," she said smiling as they moved into the church building and towards the table that almost seemed to be buckling under the weight of all the drinks on it. "Two hot cocoa's please," she said to a beaming Sister Agatha, as the nun handed them to her she smiled, "thanks."

Ricky shook his head slightly as they walked towards the church's main building "The merge is a weird thing. At least they made with the transition with aplomb apparently." They walked into the warmth and towards the refreshment table, thankfully skipping the pew and incense filled center of worship so Ricky's hands, already itching to cross himself from some mnemonic driving force, could stay firmly in his pockets. A brightly smiling nun passed them both a hot cocoa and Ricky dug some bills out of his wallet and stuck them in a basket sitting on the table, "god bless, Sister." Taking the delicious cocoa and wandering back towards the door to watch the fun outside he leaned in close to Veronica "I've got a flask of good whiskey in my pocket. Say the word and I'll spike your drink." Glittering white snow drifted down in front of them "you know. This is surprisingly nice. I didn't catch fire walking through the church doors or anything."

Laughing gently once more, Veronica shook her head once more and smiled. "The Merge has been a giant pain in my a-... behind," she said suddenly remembering her manners and the fact that she was in Church, "the Church took away my gym and that was part of my life, but this place isn't all bad. It is one of the few things that the merge got right." Smiling gently as she watched kids run and jump through the snow, she had to admit that she missed when she was that young. Those had been care free times. That was something that she definitely missed. "When you said that you were bringing a flask I didn't realise that you meant a hipflask," she said laughing gently before nodding for him to pour a little in her drink," the whiskey sent a fiery shiver down her spine and she smiled into the steam rising from her cocoa. "They may be nice," she said with a nod, "but most of them are slayers, Sister Agatha, the one who gave you cocoa is a slayer, Father Duffy too." She shrugged. "It is kind of strange but if you look at stuff like the stained glass windows, or some of the statues in the alcoves at the back, you begin to notice quite a lot of anti-vampire symbolism."

Tipping some whiskey into each of their glasses as casually as he could, Ricky listened to Veronica talk. The Merge, as much as he understood it, hadn't affected him any. But it seemed like he was one of the lucky ones. "I usually have a flask. So. Whenever you need some you know where to find me." As she kept talking he cast a surreptitious glance over his shoulder at the still smiling Sister Agatha, face gently creased by lines of age and frequent smiling. "You mean Sister Smiles back there could put me in the ground with no problem? Impressive." He kept looking around, focusing on the windows to look for what Veronica was talking about. "We weren't a huge church family. Dad went every week. I was baptized. Had first communion and everything but.... I am what I am. We don't really have a religion"

Veronica nodded gently and smiled. Of course Ricky normally had a flask of alcohol with him, he was in College and even though that was a phase of her life that Veronica had missed, she still understood what college was like. She got it. "I will be sure to call upon you for all of my alcoholic needs," she said with a smirk, "though I have to admit that I've never understood the need for one." She shrugged gently, maybe it was just her. Maybe because of her upbringing there were just thinks that she didn't get. "Sister smiles back there could try, I don't know if she would manage it but she is good. She has a soft side to her, doesn't like killing anything but type I's. Type II's look too human to her," she shrugged gently. "I understand, my parents went but I never really got it. I still don't. I guess I'm slightly religious but it is hardly a priority for me."

Tucking the flask back into the interior pocket of his coat Ricky smiled "Its not a crutch and it's not a problem I swear. But sometimes you need a drink." Walking back out into the blinding white of the church's snow covered yard Ricky took a sip of the steaming cocoa "the nuances of vampire hunting seem far too complicated for me. But. Then again. I try to avoid killing anything if I can help it. Not that I always can." He pulled his jacket close and blew a puff of steam into the air "speaking of vamps... found my friend yet? Mr. Likes to snack on inhumans? I'll happily help take him out if you need. I don't appreciate my evenings being ruined like that. I was having a really good night."

Smiling once more, Veronica nodded. "I more than trust you to keep yourself in check, besides I am sure that you know your limits better than I do and either way who am I to judge your habits?" She smiled good naturedly and sipped at her alcoholic hot chocolate. It somehow made it taste better and she couldn't help but love the warmth that was spreading through her body. "That is a good policy to have, it would be naive to think that you could always avoid it but for the moment I'm sure you're fine," she smiled and stepped down into a patch of fresh snow, her boots crunching beneath her. "The snow is all so beautiful," she said, watching it tumble through the air. "No. Not yet. Though I have a few more leads to follow up before we officially name it a dead case, however if you want to be there when I deal with him then you're more than welcome."

"Just be happy it's only booze. Now that I'm off the team I could be into harder things." The shiver that coursed through him had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with the fact that he'd thought about it. But had managed to stop himself from following through. "well I killed some Nixies so I've already got a body count to my name." As they wandered through the small collection of snowmen that was steadily growing as people came to the church Ricky nodded in agreement. "I love the snow. And it really looks like the kids are enjoying themselves." Nodding he helped a young girl get a ball started rolling for the base of her snowman "I would. As a matter of fact I'd like to do the honors. But that's up for negotiation." His mind flashed back to the night and he grimaced "But we can talk business another time."

Laughing quietly, Veronica couldn't help but shake her head. "I'm not your mother Ricky, you can do whatever you want and I'll do my best not to judge you for it, if you get hooked on Nectar or Heroine, I might intervene but other than that it is your own life and I intend to let you live it." She shrugged gently. Keeping quiet. She didn't know how many lives she had taken now, she had never counted, but if she tried to count the vampires she'd killed in the last month alone, well the tally just went up and up and up. It wasn't as if there was anything left of them to tie her to the deaths of those vampires, they had dissolved into little more than dust. But the thing that struck her at that moment was that she didn't feel a thing for all those that she had killed. Not the nixies who had hurt Ricky and not the vampires and not ... well anything. "I'll see what I can do." She smiled gently and nodded, "of course we can, for now, I think I want to try and make a snow seal."

Ricky rolled his eyes and nudged Veronica with his shoulder "I'm dumb, but I'm not dumb enough to try that shit. Believe me I'll be staying far away from anything like that." The snow drifted down around them and for the moment they were both lost in thought. Veronica undoubtedly about something lofty and purposeful, and Ricky in wondering if there was enough snow to make a snowman as tall as he was. When she spoke again Ricky couldn't help but wag his finger accusingly "If this is a way for you to try to encase me in ice and snow I should warn you I'll be pretty grumpy about that. But I bet we can totally make a kickass snow seal. It won't be as handsome as me but we can try."

Veronica laughed gently and shook her head. "I am glad to hear that, I wouldn't want you to take a dark turn in life." She smiled and looked at the snow thoughtfully for a brief moment, trying to work out the best way to do this. "I would never want to encase you in ice and snow Ricky, if I were to do that then I wouldn't get to revel in your company. I didn't invite you here to be on my own, I genuinely do enjoy spending time with you." She smirked and laughed as she began to collect snow. "I'm new to Seal anatomy, so you're going to have to help me with this. Where do you suggest we start?"

Awww come on, V. I'm perfect for an after school special. I can just see the news headline now 'Latino Lovers' Drug Descent.' It'd be too perfect." Ricky smiled and bent down, grabbing a handful of snow and chucking it at Veronica. "Don't lie I know you love the children and the laughter and the nuns. I'm just here for you to look like you're a grumpy Gus." They stopped between two kids in an open patch of snow "tail first. It's gonna be easier to work towards the head after we get a good base body of snow worked up. Head'a gonna be the hardest part."

Veronica sighed and shook her head at Ricky. The mere idea of him ever doing something that out of character was so ridiculous that the mere notion of it became funny. "I don't mind it here," she admitted. Granted some of the nuns and the priests have tried to get me to come to Sunday Mass. But for the most part they are just a happy community." Which though she wasn't one to admit it was something that she held dear to and wanted to protect. Getting on her knees she started collecting handfuls of snow and patting them into the tail.

"It's peaceful." Ricky said as he knelt to the ground, ignoring the feeling of damp denim against his knees. "You can almost forget the monsters and death and everything outside the church gate." He laughed brightly at her revelation that the clergy had been trying to recruit her "Im just waiting for Sister Smiles to tell me she hopes to see me at Sunday Mass. Maybe I'll poke my head in one week. See f I've missed anything the last half decade I've been away from the church." He started to form the tail with Veronica, correcting her composition "less flared. My tail isn't super wide like a wails, the two fins on it are closer together. I'm built for speed. Quick hunting in the water." It felt strange to talk so openly about his aquatic form, but he didn't mind it.

Veronica smiled gently at him. "It is beautiful, the other Ashford River version of myself had a clear idea of what she wanted, I'm amazed that she managed it to be quite honest with you." She shrugged gently once more and moved back to making the tail. "Sister Smiles might well try, she is a big evangelist." She continued working on the tail, taking Ricky's advice in mind. "Is it different being a seal?" she asked quietly, careful that there was no chance of them being over heard. "I can't imagine being anything other than human."

Returning her smile Ricky kept working with the moldable snow as she told her story "Part of me wonders what the Ashford River version of me is like.... if he even exists. Another part of me says don't even try thinking about it or you'll short circuit your limited brain." He moved from the tail up to the body as they worked in tandem, "She can try but I'm not the most willing convert. The Church has some things I fundamentally disagree with. But.... she seems like a sweet woman." As the conversation turned back to him and his dual forms he shrugged, taking another sip from his now-cold cocoa. "You can argue that it's when I'm human that I'm different. There's always the tug of the ocean when I'm human, the itch of longing to return to my skin. That doesn't exist as a seal. Mom told me about selkies who abandoned their human forms entirely. Just living as seals. It's definitely possible. There's no need to be human, but if I don't take on my seal form I'll die." Another shrug and he continued his work. "They're both unique in their own ways and I love them both. I like to think I am equally myself in each form. Perfectly split between the two. Though seal form has fewer detriments than human does."

Keeping working on the snow Seal, Veronica nodded along as Ricky spoke. "I can understand that feeling." She shrugged gently and smiled again. "The other me, Ashford Veronica isn't half the slayer I am. My parents were brought from Ashford River to Ashkent Creek and they seem to think that I am weak and need protecting when the truth is that I could handle them both at the same time with ease. I'm not trying to be arrogant or an ass, but they don't see how truly good I am. I am more talented than they understand and yet they act like I am child who needs protection." She sighed gently. "It is very ... frustrating." Nodding gently, she shrugged. "It is hard to accept the church when you're gay, it is hard for me to agree with them telling me that being with Bridget is a sinful act, especially when it is so beautiful." She didn't personally understand it, but as she kept working on the seal she completely forgot about her other worries, it was nice to have something like this to focus on. "I couldn't quite comprehend that even if I tried to," she realised out loud, "you're such a different person to anything that I have ever encountered that it is almost refreshing to learn about you. I want to know more." She sighed. "To be honest, living as a seal doesn't sound that bad, I almost wish that I could live as a seal, I wouldn't have to deal with protecting people and the constant moral arguments that people throw at me."

Ricky couldn't help but let out a barking laugh (something he retained in human and seal form) at Veronica's story about her parallel self, "I'll still with the badass Veronica I've got thanks so much. I'm a big fan of her. Though...." he trailed off slightly, her story about her parents making him wonder if his mother was alive in this other town that was so close and so far from their own." The seal grew under their hands as they talked, "Its the gay thing, it's their treatment of women... it's a lot of things. Luckily for me I was never very attached to religion, so it's nothing I have to really focus on." He patted more snow onto the bulk of the body as she continued talking, nodding and smiling at her confession, "It's weird I know. But it's just two halves to the same Ricky." He held up one handful of snow, "There's the human half that loves cold beer and warm pizza, the thrum of the Jeep's engine and the feel of loud music rocking my bones." He held up another handful of snow with his other hand, "Then there's the seal half. It loves hunting at night and diving deep to find the biggest fish and barking at whales and sunbathing on a rock." He mushed them together to form a larger snowball, which he then threw at Veronica "They both add up to Ricky. I'm the sum total of seal and human. That's the Selkie balance. I'm not one without the other. If I was just human or just a seal I wouldn't be all of myself. It's just a matter of finding the balance that honors both halves of myself."

It was honestly strange that they got along this well, in fact it almost bothered Veronica that she hadn't met Ricky earlier in life. If she had known Ricky prior to this point then maybe she would have had a better chance to express herself. Maybe she would be a better person. "Me too," she admitted with a chuckle, "I can't imagine being like the other Veronica, but obviously in a different life I could have and would have turned out differently, though perhaps that was because I grew up with my Ashford River parents and not with Esme," she shrugged and nodded as they kept developing the seal more and more. "There is far too much that the Church and I don't agree with, there is far too much that I feel they should be doing rather than telling me what I can or can't do with my body, they don't seem to follow the tenants that I was brought up with or at least, the majority do. That is my main problem with it. I can't imagine a god that loves everything and yet acts in the way that this god does. Why would he design me to be attracted to women if he didn't want me to pursue women. I just. I don't understand it." She shrugged gently. "I think that the more I get to know you, the more I understand that. It is like with me. There is the human half that understands philosophy and reads latin, the half that likes fine wine and well made clothes and then there is my other half. The half of me that is an expert in martial arts and wants to help people, I want to protect them from the threat of vampires and I want them to know that they're safe when they go out at night. I might not be the same but I think that I can at least start to understand."

As Ricky set to work on adding snow fangs to the snow seal they'd been working on together he nodded as Veronica talked. "Two roads diverged in a weird supernatural town. I guess it's not really any use spending too much time on it. I am what I am in this universe. Just gotta be the biggest bamf I can with that." He sat back and looked at the finished creation. "Everyone's got a dual nature. I think it's pretty easy to understand. My dual nature just happens to come with dual bodies, but other than that it's just like what you're talking about." He stood up and offered a hand to Veronica "you think Sister Agatha's got snacks? Sealman cannot live on cocoa alone?"

Grabbing Ricky's hand, Veronica pulled herself to her feet and nodded. "I get it, this life is tough and it is what we make it." She thought that she understood that pretty well at this point. Things hadn't exactly always been easy after all. "Probably, we'll just have to take a look and see." She said, grinning as they stole back inside the church and away from the snow.

#p: ricky #para #touchofpotw #touchofchatzy #Do you want to build a snow seal?#lmao this was set on the first day of the potw

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